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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 05:20:30 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 05:20:30 -0700 |
| commit | a01641f88de9ab87f997bbc7f9b95deab321a0f9 (patch) | |
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diff --git a/3090-h/3090-h.htm b/3090-h/3090-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..cd26f3b --- /dev/null +++ b/3090-h/3090-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,75262 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta charset="UTF-8"> + <title>The Entire Original Maupassant Short Stories | Project Gutenberg</title> + <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover"> +<style> + + + body { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; 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;} + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + + +.ph2, .ph3, .ph4, .ph5 { text-align: center; text-indent: 0em; font-weight: bold; } +.ph2 { font-size: x-large; margin: .75em auto; } +.ph3 { font-size: large; margin: .83em auto; } +.ph4,.ph5 { font-size: medium; margin: 1.12em auto; } +.width100 {width: 100%;} +.pre {white-space: pre;} +.cellpadding4 {padding: 4px;} +.border3 {border-width: 3px;} +</style> + </head> + <body> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK COMPLETE ORIGINAL SHORT STORIES OF GUY DE MAUPASSANT ***</div> + + + <h1> + THE ENTIRE ORIGINAL MAUPASSANT SHORT STORIES + </h1> + <p> + <br> + </p> + <div class='ph2'> + by Guy de Maupassant + </div> + <p> + <br><br><br> + </p> + <div class='ph4'> + Translated by <br> ALBERT M. C. McMASTER, B.A. <br> A. E. HENDERSON, + B.A. <br> MME. QUESADA and Others + </div> + <p> + <br><br> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> + <img src="images/maup.jpg" alt="MAUP" class='width100'><br> + </div> + <div class='ph5'> + <a href="images/maup.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt=""> </a> + </div> + + <p> + <br><br> + </p> + <h2> + <a href="#alpha"> CONTENTS IN ALPHABETICAL ORDER</a> + </h2> + <table style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto" class='cellpadding4 border3'> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#a">A</a> + </td> + <td> + <a href="#b">B</a> + </td> + <td> + <a href="#c">C</a> + </td> + <td> + <a href="#d">D</a> + </td> + <td> + <a href="#e">E</a> + </td> + <td> + <a href="#f">F</a> + </td> + <td> + <a href="#g">G</a> + </td> + <td> + <a href="#h">H</a> + </td> + <td> + <a href="#i">I</a> + </td> + <td> + <a href="#j">J</a> + </td> + <td> + <a href="#k">K</a> + </td> + <td> + <a href="#l">L</a> + </td> + <td> + <a href="#m">M</a> + </td> + <td> + <a href="#n">N</a> + </td> + <td> + <a href="#o">O</a> + </td> + <td> + <a href="#p">P</a> + </td> + <td> + <a href="#q">Q</a> + </td> + <td> + <a href="#r">R</a> + </td> + <td> + <a href="#s">S</a> + </td> + <td> + <a href="#t">T</a> + </td> + <td> + <a href="#u">U</a> + </td> + <td> + <a href="#v">V</a> + </td> + <td> + <a href="#w">W</a> + </td> + <td> + <a href="#x">XYZ</a> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + <br><br><br> + </p> + <blockquote> + <h2> + CONTENTS IN EACH VOLUME + </h2> + <p> + <br> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0001"> <b>VOLUME I.</b> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0003"> BOULE DE SUIF </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0004"> TWO FRIENDS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0005"> THE LANCER'S WIFE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0006"> THE PRISONERS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0007"> TWO LITTLE SOLDIERS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0008"> FATHER MILON </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0009"> A COUP D'ETAT </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0010"> LIEUTENANT LARE'S MARRIAGE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0011"> THE HORRIBLE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0012"> MADAME PARISSE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0013"> MADEMOISELLE FIFI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0014"> A DUEL </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0015"> ORIGINAL SHORT STORIES, Vol. 2. </a> + </p> + <p> + <br><br> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0016"> <b>VOLUME II.</b> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0017"> THE COLONEL'S IDEAS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0018"> MOTHER SAUVAGE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0019"> EPIPHANY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0020"> THE MUSTACHE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0021"> MADAME BAPTISTE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0022"> THE QUESTION OF LATIN </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0023"> A MEETING </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0024"> THE BLIND MAN </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0025"> INDISCRETION </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0026"> A FAMILY AFFAIR </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0027"> BESIDE SCHOPENHAUER'S CORPSE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0028"> ORIGINAL SHORT STORIES, Vol. 3. </a> + </p> + <p> + <br><br> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0029"> <b>VOLUME III.</b> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0030"> MISS HARRIET </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0031"> LITTLE LOUISE ROQUE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0032"> THE DONKEY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0033"> MOIRON </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0034"> THE DISPENSER OF HOLY WATER </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0035"> A PARRICIDE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0036"> BERTHA </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0037"> THE PATRON </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0038"> THE DOOR </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0039"> A SALE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0040"> THE IMPOLITE SEX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0041"> A WEDDING GIFT </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0042"> THE RELIC </a> + </p> + <p> + <br><br> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0044"> <b>VOLUME IV.</b> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0045"> THE MORIBUND </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0046"> THE GAMEKEEPER </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0047"> THE STORY OF A FARM GIRL </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0053"> THE WRECK </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0054"> THEODULE SABOT'S CONFESSION </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0055"> THE WRONG HOUSE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0056"> THE DIAMOND NECKLACE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0057"> THE MARQUIS DE FUMEROL </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0058"> THE TRIP OF LE HORLA </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0059"> FAREWELL! </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0060"> THE WOLF </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0061"> THE INN </a> + </p> + <p> + <br><br> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0063"> <b>VOLUME V.</b> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0064"> MONSIEUR PARENT </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0065"> QUEEN HORTENSE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0066"> TIMBUCTOO </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0067"> TOMBSTONES </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0068"> MADEMOISELLE PEARL </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0069"> THE THIEF </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0070"> CLAIR DE LUNE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0071"> WAITER, A “BOCK” </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0072"> AFTER </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0073"> FORGIVENESS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0074"> IN THE SPRING </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0075"> A QUEER NIGHT IN PARIS </a> + </p> + <p> + <br><br> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0077"> <b>VOLUME VI.</b> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0078"> THAT COSTLY RIDE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0079"> USELESS BEAUTY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0080"> THE FATHER </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0081"> MY UNCLE SOSTHENES </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0082"> THE BARONESS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0083"> MOTHER AND SON </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0084"> THE HAND </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0085"> A TRESS OF HAIR </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0086"> ON THE RIVER </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0087"> THE CRIPPLE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0088"> A STROLL </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0089"> ALEXANDRE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0090"> THE LOG </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0091"> JULIE ROMAIN </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0092"> THE RONDOLI SISTERS </a> + </p> + <p> + <br><br> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0094"> <b>VOLUME VII.</b> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0095"> THE FALSE GEMS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0096"> FASCINATION </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0097"> YVETTE SAMORIS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0098"> A VENDETTA </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0099"> MY TWENTY-FIVE DAYS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0100"> “THE TERROR” </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0101"> LEGEND OF MONT ST. MICHEL </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0102"> A NEW YEAR'S GIFT </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0103"> FRIEND PATIENCE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0104"> ABANDONED </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0105"> THE MAISON TELLIER </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0108"> DENIS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0109"> MY WIFE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0110"> THE UNKNOWN </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0111"> THE APPARITION </a> + </p> + <p> + <br><br> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0113"> <b>VOLUME VIII.</b> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0114"> CLOCHETTE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0115"> THE KISS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0116"> THE LEGION OF HONOR </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0117"> THE TEST </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0118"> FOUND ON A DROWNED MAN </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0119"> THE ORPHAN </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0120"> THE BEGGAR </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0121"> THE RABBIT </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0122"> HIS AVENGER </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0123"> MY UNCLE JULES </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0124"> THE MODEL </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0125"> A VAGABOND </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0126"> THE FISHING HOLE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0127"> THE SPASM </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0128"> IN THE WOOD </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0129"> MARTINE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0130"> ALL OVER </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0131"> THE PARROT </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0132"> THE PIECE OF STRING </a> + </p> + <p> + <br><br> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0134"> <b>VOLUME IX.</b> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0135"> TOINE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0136"> MADAME HUSSON'S “ROSIER” </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0137"> THE ADOPTED SON </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0138"> COWARD </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0139"> OLD MONGILET </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0140"> MOONLIGHT </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0141"> THE FIRST SNOWFALL </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0142"> SUNDAYS OF A BOURGEOIS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0143"> A RECOLLECTION </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0144"> OUR LETTERS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0145"> THE LOVE OF LONG AGO </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0146"> FRIEND JOSEPH </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0147"> THE EFFEMINATES </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0148"> OLD AMABLE </a> + </p> + <p> + <br><br> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0150"> <b>VOLUME X.</b> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0151"> THE CHRISTENING </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0152"> THE FARMER'S WIFE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0153"> THE DEVIL </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0154"> THE SNIPE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0155"> THE WILL </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0156"> WALTER SCHNAFFS' ADVENTURE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0157"> AT SEA </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0158"> MINUET </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0159"> THE SON </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0160"> THAT PIG OF A MORIN </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0161"> SAINT ANTHONY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0162"> LASTING LOVE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0163"> PIERROT </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0164"> A NORMANDY JOKE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0165"> FATHER MATTHEW </a> + </p> + <p> + <br><br> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0167"> <b>VOLUME XI.</b> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0168"> THE UMBRELLA </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0169"> BELHOMME'S BEAST </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0170"> DISCOVERY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0171"> THE ACCURSED BREAD </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0172"> THE DOWRY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0173"> THE DIARY OF A MADMAN </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0174"> THE MASK </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0175"> THE PENGUINS' ROCK </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0176"> A FAMILY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0177"> SUICIDES </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0178"> AN ARTIFICE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0179"> DREAMS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0180"> SIMON'S PAPA </a> + </p> + <p> + <br><br> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0182"> <b>VOLUME XII.</b> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0183"> THE CHILD </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0184"> A COUNTRY EXCURSION </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0185"> ROSE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0186"> ROSALIE PRUDENT </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0187"> REGRET </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0188"> A SISTER'S CONFESSION </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0189"> COCO </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0190"> DEAD WOMAN'S SECRET </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0191"> A HUMBLE DRAMA </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0192"> MADEMOISELLE COCOTTE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0193"> THE CORSICAN BANDIT </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0194"> THE GRAVE </a> + </p> + <p> + <br><br> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0196"> <b>VOLUME XIII.</b> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0197"> OLD JUDAS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0198"> THE LITTLE CASK </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0199"> BOITELLE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0200"> A WIDOW </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0201"> THE ENGLISHMAN OF ETRETAT </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0202"> MAGNETISM </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0203"> A FATHER'S CONFESSION </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0204"> A MOTHER OF MONSTERS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0205"> AN UNCOMFORTABLE BED </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0206"> A PORTRAIT </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0207"> THE DRUNKARD </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0208"> THE WARDROBE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0209"> THE MOUNTAIN POOL </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0210"> A CREMATION </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0211"> MISTI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0212"> MADAME HERMET </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0213"> THE MAGIC COUCH </a> + </p> + <p> + <br> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <a id="alpha"> </a> + </p> + <h2> + IN ALPHABETICAL ORDER + </h2> + <table style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto" class='cellpadding4 border3'> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#a">A</a> + </td> + <td> + <a href="#b">B</a> + </td> + <td> + <a href="#c">C</a> + </td> + <td> + <a href="#d">D</a> + </td> + <td> + <a href="#e">E</a> + </td> + <td> + <a href="#f">F</a> + </td> + <td> + <a href="#g">G</a> + </td> + <td> + <a href="#h">H</a> + </td> + <td> + <a href="#i">I</a> + </td> + <td> + <a href="#j">J</a> + </td> + <td> + <a href="#k">K</a> + </td> + <td> + <a href="#l">L</a> + </td> + <td> + <a href="#m">M</a> + </td> + <td> + <a href="#n">N</a> + </td> + <td> + <a href="#o">O</a> + </td> + <td> + <a href="#p">P</a> + </td> + <td> + <a href="#q">Q</a> + </td> + <td> + <a href="#r">R</a> + </td> + <td> + <a href="#s">S</a> + </td> + <td> + <a href="#t">T</a> + </td> + <td> + <a href="#u">U</a> + </td> + <td> + <a href="#v">V</a> + </td> + <td> + <a href="#w">W</a> + </td> + <td> + <a href="#x">XYZ</a> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <h2> + <a id="a"> [ A ]</a> + </h2> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0104"> ABANDONED </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0171"> THE ACCURSED BREAD </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0072"> AFTER </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0089"> ALEXANDRE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0148"> OLD AMABLE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0111"> THE APPARITION </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0178"> AN ARTIFICE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0122"> HIS AVENGER </a> + </p> + <h2> + <a id="b"> [ B ]</a> + </h2> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0082"> THE BARONESS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0120"> THE BEGGAR </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0169"> BELHOMME'S BEAST </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0036"> BERTHA </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0027"> BESIDE SCHOPENHAUER'S CORPSE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0024"> THE BLIND MAN </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0199"> BOITELLE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0003"> BOULE DE SUIF </a> + </p> + <h2> + <a id="c"> [ C ]</a> + </h2> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0183"> THE CHILD </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0151"> THE CHRISTENING </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0070"> CLAIR DE LUNE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0114"> CLOCHETTE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0189"> COCO </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0193"> THE CORSICAN BANDIT </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0078"> THAT COSTLY RIDE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0184"> A COUNTRY EXCURSION </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0009"> A COUP D'ETAT </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0138"> COWARD </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0210"> A CREMATION </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0087"> THE CRIPPLE </a> + </p> + <h2> + <a id="d"> [ D ]</a> + </h2> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0190"> DEAD WOMAN'S SECRET </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0108"> DENIS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0153"> THE DEVIL </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0056"> THE DIAMOND NECKLACE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0173"> THE DIARY OF A MADMAN </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0170"> DISCOVERY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0034"> THE DISPENSER OF HOLY WATER </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0032"> THE DONKEY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0038"> THE DOOR </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0172"> THE DOWRY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0179"> DREAMS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0207"> THE DRUNKARD </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0014"> A DUEL </a> + </p> + <h2> + <a id="e"> [ E ]</a> + </h2> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0147"> THE EFFEMINATES </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0201"> THE ENGLISHMAN OF ETRETAT </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0019"> EPIPHANY </a> + </p> + <h2> + <a id="f"> [ F ]</a> + </h2> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0095"> THE FALSE GEMS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0176"> A FAMILY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0026"> A FAMILY AFFAIR </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0059"> FAREWELL! </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0047"> THE STORY OF A FARM GIRL </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0152"> THE FARMER'S WIFE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0096"> FASCINATION </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0080"> THE FATHER </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0165"> FATHER MATTHEW </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0008"> FATHER MILON </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0203"> A FATHER'S CONFESSION </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0126"> THE FISHING HOLE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0073"> FORGIVENESS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0118"> FOUND ON A DROWNED MAN </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0103"> FRIEND PATIENCE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0004"> TWO FRIENDS </a> + </p> + <h2> + <a id="g"> [ G ]</a> + </h2> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0046"> THE GAMEKEEPER </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0194"> THE GRAVE </a> + </p> + <h2> + <a id="h"> [ H ]</a> + </h2> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0084"> THE HAND </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0011"> THE HORRIBLE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0191"> A HUMBLE DRAMA </a> + </p> + <h2> + <a id="i"> [ I ]</a> + </h2> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0040"> THE IMPOLITE SEX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0025"> INDISCRETION </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0061"> THE INN </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0074"> IN THE SPRING </a> + </p> + <h2> + <a id="j"> [ J ]</a> + </h2> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0146"> FRIEND JOSEPH </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0197"> OLD JUDAS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0091"> JULIE ROMAIN </a> + </p> + <h2> + <a id="k"> [ K ]</a> + </h2> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0115"> THE KISS </a> + </p> + <h2> + <a id="l"> [ L ]</a> + </h2> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0005"> THE LANCER'S WIFE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0162"> LASTING LOVE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0116"> THE LEGION OF HONOR </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0144"> OUR LETTERS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0010"> LIEUTENANT LARE'S MARRIAGE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0198"> THE LITTLE CASK </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0007"> TWO LITTLE SOLDIERS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0090"> THE LOG </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0031"> LITTLE LOUISE ROQUE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0145"> THE LOVE OF LONG AGO </a> + </p> + <h2> + <a id="m"> [ M ]</a> + </h2> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0021"> MADAME BAPTISTE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0212"> MADAME HERMET </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0136"> MADAME HUSSON'S “ROSIER” </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0012"> MADAME PARISSE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0192"> MADEMOISELLE COCOTTE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0013"> MADEMOISELLE FIFI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0068"> MADEMOISELLE PEARL </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0213"> THE MAGIC COUCH </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0202"> MAGNETISM </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0105"> THE MAISON TELLIER </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0057"> THE MARQUIS DE FUMEROL </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0129"> MARTINE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0174"> THE MASK </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0023"> A MEETING </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0158"> MINUET </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0030"> MISS HARRIET </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0211"> MISTI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0124"> THE MODEL </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0033"> MOIRON </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0139"> OLD MONGILET </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0064"> MONSIEUR PARENT </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0101"> LEGEND OF MONT ST. MICHEL </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0140"> MOONLIGHT </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0045"> THE MORIBUND </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0083"> MOTHER AND SON </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0204"> A MOTHER OF MONSTERS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0018"> MOTHER SAUVAGE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0209"> THE MOUNTAIN POOL </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0109"> MY WIFE </a> + </p> + <h2> + <a id="n"> [ N ]</a> + </h2> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0102"> A NEW YEAR'S GIFT </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0164"> A NORMANDY JOKE </a> + </p> + <h2> + <a id="o"> [ O ]</a> + </h2> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0119"> THE ORPHAN </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0130"> ALL OVER </a> + </p> + <h2> + <a id="p"> [ P ]</a> + </h2> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0035"> A PARRICIDE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0131"> THE PARROT </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0037"> THE PATRON </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0175"> THE PENGUINS' ROCK </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0132"> THE PIECE OF STRING </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0163"> PIERROT </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0160"> THAT PIG OF A MORIN </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0206"> A PORTRAIT </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0006"> THE PRISONERS </a> + </p> + <h2> + <a id="q"> [ Q ]</a> + </h2> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0065"> QUEEN HORTENSE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0075"> A QUEER NIGHT IN PARIS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0022"> THE QUESTION OF LATIN </a> + </p> + <h2> + <a id="r"> [ R ]</a> + </h2> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0121"> THE RABBIT </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0143"> A RECOLLECTION </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0187"> REGRET </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0042"> THE RELIC </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0086"> ON THE RIVER </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0092"> THE RONDOLI SISTERS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0186"> ROSALIE PRUDENT </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0185"> ROSE </a> + </p> + <h2> + <a id="s"> [ S ]</a> + </h2> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0161"> SAINT ANTHONY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0039"> A SALE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0157"> AT SEA </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0180"> SIMON'S PAPA </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0188"> A SISTER'S CONFESSION </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0154"> THE SNIPE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0141"> THE FIRST SNOWFALL </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0159"> THE SON </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0127"> THE SPASM </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0088"> A STROLL </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0177"> SUICIDES </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0142"> SUNDAYS OF A BOURGEOIS </a> + </p> + <h2> + <a id="t"> [ T ]</a> + </h2> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0100"> “THE TERROR” </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0117"> THE TEST </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0137"> THE ADOPTED SON </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0017"> THE COLONEL'S IDEAS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0020"> THE MUSTACHE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0054"> THEODULE SABOT'S CONFESSION </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0069"> THE THIEF </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0066"> TIMBUCTOO </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0135"> TOINE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0067"> TOMBSTONES </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0085"> A TRESS OF HAIR </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0058"> THE TRIP OF LE HORLA </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0099"> MY TWENTY-FIVE DAYS </a> + </p> + <h2> + <a id="u"> [ U ]</a> + </h2> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0168"> THE UMBRELLA </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0123"> MY UNCLE JULES </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0081"> MY UNCLE SOSTHENES </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0205"> AN UNCOMFORTABLE BED </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0110"> THE UNKNOWN </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0079"> USELESS BEAUTY </a> + </p> + <h2> + <a id="v"> [ V ]</a> + </h2> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0125"> A VAGABOND </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0098"> A VENDETTA </a> + </p> + <h2> + <a id="w"> [ W ]</a> + </h2> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0071"> WAITER, A “BOCK” </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0156"> WALTER SCHNAFFS' ADVENTURE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0208"> THE WARDROBE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0041"> A WEDDING GIFT </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0200"> A WIDOW </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0155"> THE WILL </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0060"> THE WOLF </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0128"> IN THE WOOD </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0053"> THE WRECK </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0055"> THE WRONG HOUSE </a> + </p> + <h2> + <a id="x"> [ Y ]</a> + </h2> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#2H_4_0097"> YVETTE SAMORIS </a> + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_TOC"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + GUY DE MAUPASSANT + </h2> + <p> + <br> + </p> + <h2> + ORIGINAL SHORT STORIES + </h2> + <p> + <br> <a id="2H_4_0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + VOLUME I. + </h2> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + GUY DE MAUPASSANT + </h2> + <p> + A STUDY BY POL. NEVEUX + </p> + <p> + “I entered literary life as a meteor, and I shall leave it like a + thunderbolt.” These words of Maupassant to Jose Maria de Heredia on + the occasion of a memorable meeting are, in spite of their morbid + solemnity, not an inexact summing up of the brief career during which, for + ten years, the writer, by turns undaunted and sorrowful, with the + fertility of a master hand produced poetry, novels, romances and travels, + only to sink prematurely into the abyss of madness and death. . . . . + </p> + <p> + In the month of April, 1880, an article appeared in the “Le Gaulois” + announcing the publication of the Soirees de Medan. It was signed by a + name as yet unknown: Guy de Maupassant. After a juvenile diatribe against + romanticism and a passionate attack on languorous literature, the writer + extolled the study of real life, and announced the publication of the new + work. It was picturesque and charming. In the quiet of evening, on an + island, in the Seine, beneath poplars instead of the Neapolitan cypresses + dear to the friends of Boccaccio, amid the continuous murmur of the + valley, and no longer to the sound of the Pyrennean streams that murmured + a faint accompaniment to the tales of Marguerite's cavaliers, the master + and his disciples took turns in narrating some striking or pathetic + episode of the war. And the issue, in collaboration, of these tales in one + volume, in which the master jostled elbows with his pupils, took on the + appearance of a manifesto, the tone of a challenge, or the utterance of a + creed. + </p> + <p> + In fact, however, the beginnings had been much more simple, and they had + confined themselves, beneath the trees of Medan, to deciding on a general + title for the work. Zola had contributed the manuscript of the “Attaque + du Moulin,” and it was at Maupassant's house that the five young men + gave in their contributions. Each one read his story, Maupassant being the + last. When he had finished Boule de Suif, with a spontaneous impulse, with + an emotion they never forgot, filled with enthusiasm at this revelation, + they all rose and, without superfluous words, acclaimed him as a master. + </p> + <p> + He undertook to write the article for the Gaulois and, in cooperation with + his friends, he worded it in the terms with which we are familiar, + amplifying and embellishing it, yielding to an inborn taste for + mystification which his youth rendered excusable. The essential point, he + said, is to “unmoor” criticism. + </p> + <p> + It was unmoored. The following day Wolff wrote a polemical dissertation in + the Figaro and carried away his colleagues. The volume was a brilliant + success, thanks to Boule de Suif. Despite the novelty, the honesty of + effort, on the part of all, no mention was made of the other stories. + Relegated to the second rank, they passed without notice. From his first + battle, Maupassant was master of the field in literature. + </p> + <p> + At once the entire press took him up and said what was appropriate + regarding the budding celebrity. Biographers and reporters sought + information concerning his life. As it was very simple and perfectly + straightforward, they resorted to invention. And thus it is that at the + present day Maupassant appears to us like one of those ancient heroes + whose origin and death are veiled in mystery. + </p> + <p> + I will not dwell on Guy de Maupassant's younger days. His relatives, his + old friends, he himself, here and there in his works, have furnished us in + their letters enough valuable revelations and touching remembrances of the + years preceding his literary debut. His worthy biographer, H. Edouard + Maynial, after collecting intelligently all the writings, condensing and + comparing them, has been able to give us some definite information + regarding that early period. + </p> + <p> + I will simply recall that he was born on the 5th of August, 1850, near + Dieppe, in the castle of Miromesnil which he describes in Une Vie. . . . + </p> + <p> + Maupassant, like Flaubert, was a Norman, through his mother, and through + his place of birth he belonged to that strange and adventurous race, whose + heroic and long voyages on tramp trading ships he liked to recall. And + just as the author of “Education sentimentale” seems to have + inherited in the paternal line the shrewd realism of Champagne, so de + Maupassant appears to have inherited from his Lorraine ancestors their + indestructible discipline and cold lucidity. + </p> + <p> + His childhood was passed at Etretat, his beautiful childhood; it was there + that his instincts were awakened in the unfoldment of his prehistoric + soul. Years went by in an ecstasy of physical happiness. The delight of + running at full speed through fields of gorse, the charm of voyages of + discovery in hollows and ravines, games beneath the dark hedges, a passion + for going to sea with the fishermen and, on nights when there was no moon, + for dreaming on their boats of imaginary voyages. + </p> + <p> + Mme. de Maupassant, who had guided her son's early reading, and had gazed + with him at the sublime spectacle of nature, put, off as long as possible + the hour of separation. One day, however, she had to take the child to the + little seminary at Yvetot. Later, he became a student at the college at + Rouen, and became a literary correspondent of Louis Bouilhet. It was at + the latter's house on those Sundays in winter when the Norman rain drowned + the sound of the bells and dashed against the window panes that the school + boy learned to write poetry. + </p> + <p> + Vacation took the rhetorician back to the north of Normandy. Now it was + shooting at Saint Julien l'Hospitalier, across fields, bogs, and through + the woods. From that time on he sealed his pact with the earth, and those + “deep and delicate roots” which attached him to his native + soil began to grow. It was of Normandy, broad, fresh and virile, that he + would presently demand his inspiration, fervent and eager as a boy's love; + it was in her that he would take refuge when, weary of life, he would + implore a truce, or when he simply wished to work and revive his energies + in old-time joys. It was at this time that was born in him that voluptuous + love of the sea, which in later days could alone withdraw him from the + world, calm him, console him. + </p> + <p> + In 1870 he lived in the country, then he came to Paris to live; for, the + family fortunes having dwindled, he had to look for a position. For + several years he was a clerk in the Ministry of Marine, where he turned + over musty papers, in the uninteresting company of the clerks of the + admiralty. + </p> + <p> + Then he went into the department of Public Instruction, where bureaucratic + servility is less intolerable. The daily duties are certainly scarcely + more onerous and he had as chiefs, or colleagues, Xavier Charmes and Leon + Dierx, Henry Roujon and Rene Billotte, but his office looked out on a + beautiful melancholy garden with immense plane trees around which black + circles of crows gathered in winter. + </p> + <p> + Maupassant made two divisions of his spare hours, one for boating, and the + other for literature. Every evening in spring, every free day, he ran down + to the river whose mysterious current veiled in fog or sparkling in the + sun called to him and bewitched him. In the islands in the Seine between + Chatou and Port-Marly, on the banks of Sartrouville and Triel he was long + noted among the population of boatmen, who have now vanished, for his + unwearying biceps, his cynical gaiety of good-fellowship, his unfailing + practical jokes, his broad witticisms. Sometimes he would row with frantic + speed, free and joyous, through the glowing sunlight on the stream; + sometimes, he would wander along the coast, questioning the sailors, + chatting with the ravageurs, or junk gatherers, or stretched at full + length amid the irises and tansy he would lie for hours watching the frail + insects that play on the surface of the stream, water spiders, or white + butterflies, dragon flies, chasing each other amid the willow leaves, or + frogs asleep on the lily-pads. + </p> + <p> + The rest of his life was taken up by his work. Without ever becoming + despondent, silent and persistent, he accumulated manuscripts, poetry, + criticisms, plays, romances and novels. Every week he docilely submitted + his work to the great Flaubert, the childhood friend of his mother and his + uncle Alfred Le Poittevin. The master had consented to assist the young + man, to reveal to him the secrets that make chefs-d'oeuvre immortal. It + was he who compelled him to make copious research and to use direct + observation and who inculcated in him a horror of vulgarity and a contempt + for facility. + </p> + <p> + Maupassant himself tells us of those severe initiations in the Rue + Murillo, or in the tent at Croisset; he has recalled the implacable + didactics of his old master, his tender brutality, the paternal advice of + his generous and candid heart. For seven years Flaubert slashed, + pulverized, the awkward attempts of his pupil whose success remained + uncertain. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly, in a flight of spontaneous perfection, he wrote Boule de Suif. + His master's joy was great and overwhelming. He died two months later. + </p> + <p> + Until the end Maupassant remained illuminated by the reflection of the + good, vanished giant, by that touching reflection that comes from the dead + to those souls they have so profoundly stirred. The worship of Flaubert + was a religion from which nothing could distract him, neither work, nor + glory, nor slow moving waves, nor balmy nights. + </p> + <p> + At the end of his short life, while his mind was still clear: he wrote to + a friend: “I am always thinking of my poor Flaubert, and I say to + myself that I should like to die if I were sure that anyone would think of + me in the same manner.” + </p> + <p> + During these long years of his novitiate Maupassant had entered the social + literary circles. He would remain silent, preoccupied; and if anyone, + astonished at his silence, asked him about his plans he answered simply: + “I am learning my trade.” However, under the pseudonym of Guy + de Valmont, he had sent some articles to the newspapers, and, later, with + the approval and by the advice of Flaubert, he published, in the “Republique + des Lettres,” poems signed by his name. + </p> + <p> + These poems, overflowing with sensuality, where the hymn to the Earth + describes the transports of physical possession, where the impatience of + love expresses itself in loud melancholy appeals like the calls of animals + in the spring nights, are valuable chiefly inasmuch as they reveal the + creature of instinct, the fawn escaped from his native forests, that + Maupassant was in his early youth. But they add nothing to his glory. They + are the “rhymes of a prose writer” as Jules Lemaitre said. To + mould the expression of his thought according to the strictest laws, and + to “narrow it down” to some extent, such was his aim. + Following the example of one of his comrades of Medan, being readily + carried away by precision of style and the rhythm of sentences, by the + imperious rule of the ballad, of the pantoum or the chant royal, + Maupassant also desired to write in metrical lines. However, he never + liked this collection that he often regretted having published. His + encounters with prosody had left him with that monotonous weariness that + the horseman and the fencer feel after a period in the riding school, or a + bout with the foils. + </p> + <p> + Such, in very broad lines, is the story of Maupassant's literary + apprenticeship. + </p> + <p> + The day following the publication of “Boule de Suif,” his + reputation began to grow rapidly. The quality of his story was unrivalled, + but at the same time it must be acknowledged that there were some who, for + the sake of discussion, desired to place a young reputation in opposition + to the triumphant brutality of Zola. + </p> + <p> + From this time on, Maupassant, at the solicitation of the entire press, + set to work and wrote story after story. His talent, free from all + influences, his individuality, are not disputed for a moment. With a quick + step, steady and alert, he advanced to fame, a fame of which he himself + was not aware, but which was so universal, that no contemporary author + during his life ever experienced the same. The “meteor” sent + out its light and its rays were prolonged without limit, in article after + article, volume on volume. + </p> + <p> + He was now rich and famous . . . . He is esteemed all the more as they + believe him to be rich and happy. But they do not know that this young + fellow with the sunburnt face, thick neck and salient muscles whom they + invariably compare to a young bull at liberty, and whose love affairs they + whisper, is ill, very ill. At the very moment that success came to him, + the malady that never afterwards left him came also, and, seated + motionless at his side, gazed at him with its threatening countenance. He + suffered from terrible headaches, followed by nights of insomnia. He had + nervous attacks, which he soothed with narcotics and anesthetics, which he + used freely. His sight, which had troubled him at intervals, became + affected, and a celebrated oculist spoke of abnormality, asymetry of the + pupils. The famous young man trembled in secret and was haunted by all + kinds of terrors. + </p> + <p> + The reader is charmed at the saneness of this revived art and yet, here + and there, he is surprised to discover, amid descriptions of nature that + are full of humanity, disquieting flights towards the supernatural, + distressing conjurations, veiled at first, of the most commonplace, the + most vertiginous shuddering fits of fear, as old as the world and as + eternal as the unknown. But, instead of being alarmed, he thinks that the + author must be gifted with infallible intuition to follow out thus the + taints in his characters, even through their most dangerous mazes. The + reader does not know that these hallucinations which he describes so + minutely were experienced by Maupassant himself; he does not know that the + fear is in himself, the anguish of fear “which is not caused by the + presence of danger, or of inevitable death, but by certain abnormal + conditions, by certain mysterious influences in presence of vague dangers,” + the “fear of fear, the dread of that horrible sensation of + incomprehensible terror.” + </p> + <p> + How can one explain these physical sufferings and this morbid distress + that were known for some time to his intimates alone? Alas! the + explanation is only too simple. All his life, consciously or + unconsciously, Maupassant fought this malady, hidden as yet, which was + latent in him. + </p> + <p> + As his malady began to take a more definite form, he turned his steps + towards the south, only visiting Paris to see his physicians and + publishers. In the old port of Antibes beyond the causeway of Cannes, his + yacht, Bel Ami, which he cherished as a brother, lay at anchor and awaited + him. He took it to the white cities of the Genoese Gulf, towards the palm + trees of Hyeres, or the red bay trees of Antheor. + </p> + <p> + After several tragic weeks in which, from instinct, he made a desperate + fight, on the 1st of January, 1892, he felt he was hopelessly vanquished, + and in a moment of supreme clearness of intellect, like Gerard de Nerval, + he attempted suicide. Less fortunate than the author of Sylvia, he was + unsuccessful. But his mind, henceforth “indifferent to all + unhappiness,” had entered into eternal darkness. + </p> + <p> + He was taken back to Paris and placed in Dr. Meuriot's sanatorium, where, + after eighteen months of mechanical existence, the “meteor” + quietly passed away. + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + BOULE DE SUIF + </h2> + <p> + For several days in succession fragments of a defeated army had passed + through the town. They were mere disorganized bands, not disciplined + forces. The men wore long, dirty beards and tattered uniforms; they + advanced in listless fashion, without a flag, without a leader. All seemed + exhausted, worn out, incapable of thought or resolve, marching onward + merely by force of habit, and dropping to the ground with fatigue the + moment they halted. One saw, in particular, many enlisted men, peaceful + citizens, men who lived quietly on their income, bending beneath the + weight of their rifles; and little active volunteers, easily frightened + but full of enthusiasm, as eager to attack as they were ready to take to + flight; and amid these, a sprinkling of red-breeched soldiers, the pitiful + remnant of a division cut down in a great battle; somber artillerymen, + side by side with nondescript foot-soldiers; and, here and there, the + gleaming helmet of a heavy-footed dragoon who had difficulty in keeping up + with the quicker pace of the soldiers of the line. Legions of irregulars + with high-sounding names “Avengers of Defeat,” “Citizens + of the Tomb,” “Brethren in Death”—passed in their + turn, looking like banditti. Their leaders, former drapers or grain + merchants, or tallow or soap chandlers—warriors by force of + circumstances, officers by reason of their mustachios or their money—covered + with weapons, flannel and gold lace, spoke in an impressive manner, + discussed plans of campaign, and behaved as though they alone bore the + fortunes of dying France on their braggart shoulders; though, in truth, + they frequently were afraid of their own men—scoundrels often brave + beyond measure, but pillagers and debauchees. + </p> + <p> + Rumor had it that the Prussians were about to enter Rouen. + </p> + <p> + The members of the National Guard, who for the past two months had been + reconnoitering with the utmost caution in the neighboring woods, + occasionally shooting their own sentinels, and making ready for fight + whenever a rabbit rustled in the undergrowth, had now returned to their + homes. Their arms, their uniforms, all the death-dealing paraphernalia + with which they had terrified all the milestones along the highroad for + eight miles round, had suddenly and marvellously disappeared. + </p> + <p> + The last of the French soldiers had just crossed the Seine on their way to + Pont-Audemer, through Saint-Sever and Bourg-Achard, and in their rear the + vanquished general, powerless to do aught with the forlorn remnants of his + army, himself dismayed at the final overthrow of a nation accustomed to + victory and disastrously beaten despite its legendary bravery, walked + between two orderlies. + </p> + <p> + Then a profound calm, a shuddering, silent dread, settled on the city. + Many a round-paunched citizen, emasculated by years devoted to business, + anxiously awaited the conquerors, trembling lest his roasting-jacks or + kitchen knives should be looked upon as weapons. + </p> + <p> + Life seemed to have stopped short; the shops were shut, the streets + deserted. Now and then an inhabitant, awed by the silence, glided swiftly + by in the shadow of the walls. The anguish of suspense made men even + desire the arrival of the enemy. + </p> + <p> + In the afternoon of the day following the departure of the French troops, + a number of uhlans, coming no one knew whence, passed rapidly through the + town. A little later on, a black mass descended St. Catherine's Hill, + while two other invading bodies appeared respectively on the Darnetal and + the Boisguillaume roads. The advance guards of the three corps arrived at + precisely the same moment at the Square of the Hotel de Ville, and the + German army poured through all the adjacent streets, its battalions making + the pavement ring with their firm, measured tread. + </p> + <p> + Orders shouted in an unknown, guttural tongue rose to the windows of the + seemingly dead, deserted houses; while behind the fast-closed shutters + eager eyes peered forth at the victors-masters now of the city, its + fortunes, and its lives, by “right of war.” The inhabitants, + in their darkened rooms, were possessed by that terror which follows in + the wake of cataclysms, of deadly upheavals of the earth, against which + all human skill and strength are vain. For the same thing happens whenever + the established order of things is upset, when security no longer exists, + when all those rights usually protected by the law of man or of Nature are + at the mercy of unreasoning, savage force. The earthquake crushing a whole + nation under falling roofs; the flood let loose, and engulfing in its + swirling depths the corpses of drowned peasants, along with dead oxen and + beams torn from shattered houses; or the army, covered with glory, + murdering those who defend themselves, making prisoners of the rest, + pillaging in the name of the Sword, and giving thanks to God to the + thunder of cannon—all these are appalling scourges, which destroy + all belief in eternal justice, all that confidence we have been taught to + feel in the protection of Heaven and the reason of man. + </p> + <p> + Small detachments of soldiers knocked at each door, and then disappeared + within the houses; for the vanquished saw they would have to be civil to + their conquerors. + </p> + <p> + At the end of a short time, once the first terror had subsided, calm was + again restored. In many houses the Prussian officer ate at the same table + with the family. He was often well-bred, and, out of politeness, expressed + sympathy with France and repugnance at being compelled to take part in the + war. This sentiment was received with gratitude; besides, his protection + might be needful some day or other. By the exercise of tact the number of + men quartered in one's house might be reduced; and why should one provoke + the hostility of a person on whom one's whole welfare depended? Such + conduct would savor less of bravery than of fool-hardiness. And + foolhardiness is no longer a failing of the citizens of Rouen as it was in + the days when their city earned renown by its heroic defenses. Last of + all-final argument based on the national politeness—the folk of + Rouen said to one another that it was only right to be civil in one's own + house, provided there was no public exhibition of familiarity with the + foreigner. Out of doors, therefore, citizen and soldier did not know each + other; but in the house both chatted freely, and each evening the German + remained a little longer warming himself at the hospitable hearth. + </p> + <p> + Even the town itself resumed by degrees its ordinary aspect. The French + seldom walked abroad, but the streets swarmed with Prussian soldiers. + Moreover, the officers of the Blue Hussars, who arrogantly dragged their + instruments of death along the pavements, seemed to hold the simple + townsmen in but little more contempt than did the French cavalry officers + who had drunk at the same cafes the year before. + </p> + <p> + But there was something in the air, a something strange and subtle, an + intolerable foreign atmosphere like a penetrating odor—the odor of + invasion. It permeated dwellings and places of public resort, changed the + taste of food, made one imagine one's self in far-distant lands, amid + dangerous, barbaric tribes. + </p> + <p> + The conquerors exacted money, much money. The inhabitants paid what was + asked; they were rich. But, the wealthier a Norman tradesman becomes, the + more he suffers at having to part with anything that belongs to him, at + having to see any portion of his substance pass into the hands of another. + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless, within six or seven miles of the town, along the course of + the river as it flows onward to Croisset, Dieppedalle and Biessart, + boat-men and fishermen often hauled to the surface of the water the body + of a German, bloated in his uniform, killed by a blow from knife or club, + his head crushed by a stone, or perchance pushed from some bridge into the + stream below. The mud of the river-bed swallowed up these obscure acts of + vengeance—savage, yet legitimate; these unrecorded deeds of bravery; + these silent attacks fraught with greater danger than battles fought in + broad day, and surrounded, moreover, with no halo of romance. For hatred + of the foreigner ever arms a few intrepid souls, ready to die for an idea. + </p> + <p> + At last, as the invaders, though subjecting the town to the strictest + discipline, had not committed any of the deeds of horror with which they + had been credited while on their triumphal march, the people grew bolder, + and the necessities of business again animated the breasts of the local + merchants. Some of these had important commercial interests at Havre + —occupied at present by the French army—and wished to attempt + to reach that port by overland route to Dieppe, taking the boat from + there. + </p> + <p> + Through the influence of the German officers whose acquaintance they had + made, they obtained a permit to leave town from the general in command. + </p> + <p> + A large four-horse coach having, therefore, been engaged for the journey, + and ten passengers having given in their names to the proprietor, they + decided to start on a certain Tuesday morning before daybreak, to avoid + attracting a crowd. + </p> + <p> + The ground had been frozen hard for some time-past, and about three + o'clock on Monday afternoon—large black clouds from the north shed + their burden of snow uninterruptedly all through that evening and night. + </p> + <p> + At half-past four in the morning the travellers met in the courtyard of + the Hotel de Normandie, where they were to take their seats in the coach. + </p> + <p> + They were still half asleep, and shivering with cold under their wraps. + They could see one another but indistinctly in the darkness, and the + mountain of heavy winter wraps in which each was swathed made them look + like a gathering of obese priests in their long cassocks. But two men + recognized each other, a third accosted them, and the three began to talk. + “I am bringing my wife,” said one. “So am I.” + “And I, too.” The first speaker added: “We shall not + return to Rouen, and if the Prussians approach Havre we will cross to + England.” All three, it turned out, had made the same plans, being + of similar disposition and temperament. + </p> + <p> + Still the horses were not harnessed. A small lantern carried by a + stable-boy emerged now and then from one dark doorway to disappear + immediately in another. The stamping of horses' hoofs, deadened by the + dung and straw of the stable, was heard from time to time, and from inside + the building issued a man's voice, talking to the animals and swearing at + them. A faint tinkle of bells showed that the harness was being got ready; + this tinkle soon developed into a continuous jingling, louder or softer + according to the movements of the horse, sometimes stopping altogether, + then breaking out in a sudden peal accompanied by a pawing of the ground + by an iron-shod hoof. + </p> + <p> + The door suddenly closed. All noise ceased. + </p> + <p> + The frozen townsmen were silent; they remained motionless, stiff with + cold. + </p> + <p> + A thick curtain of glistening white flakes fell ceaselessly to the ground; + it obliterated all outlines, enveloped all objects in an icy mantle of + foam; nothing was to be heard throughout the length and breadth of the + silent, winter-bound city save the vague, nameless rustle of falling snow—a + sensation rather than a sound—the gentle mingling of light atoms + which seemed to fill all space, to cover the whole world. + </p> + <p> + The man reappeared with his lantern, leading by a rope a + melancholy-looking horse, evidently being led out against his inclination. + The hostler placed him beside the pole, fastened the traces, and spent + some time in walking round him to make sure that the harness was all + right; for he could use only one hand, the other being engaged in holding + the lantern. As he was about to fetch the second horse he noticed the + motionless group of travellers, already white with snow, and said to them: + “Why don't you get inside the coach? You'd be under shelter, at + least.” + </p> + <p> + This did not seem to have occurred to them, and they at once took his + advice. The three men seated their wives at the far end of the coach, then + got in themselves; lastly the other vague, snow-shrouded forms clambered + to the remaining places without a word. + </p> + <p> + The floor was covered with straw, into which the feet sank. The ladies at + the far end, having brought with them little copper foot-warmers heated by + means of a kind of chemical fuel, proceeded to light these, and spent some + time in expatiating in low tones on their advantages, saying over and over + again things which they had all known for a long time. + </p> + <p> + At last, six horses instead of four having been harnessed to the + diligence, on account of the heavy roads, a voice outside asked: “Is + every one there?” To which a voice from the interior replied: + “Yes,” and they set out. + </p> + <p> + The vehicle moved slowly, slowly, at a snail's pace; the wheels sank into + the snow; the entire body of the coach creaked and groaned; the horses + slipped, puffed, steamed, and the coachman's long whip cracked + incessantly, flying hither and thither, coiling up, then flinging out its + length like a slender serpent, as it lashed some rounded flank, which + instantly grew tense as it strained in further effort. + </p> + <p> + But the day grew apace. Those light flakes which one traveller, a native + of Rouen, had compared to a rain of cotton fell no longer. A murky light + filtered through dark, heavy clouds, which made the country more + dazzlingly white by contrast, a whiteness broken sometimes by a row of + tall trees spangled with hoarfrost, or by a cottage roof hooded in snow. + </p> + <p> + Within the coach the passengers eyed one another curiously in the dim + light of dawn. + </p> + <p> + Right at the back, in the best seats of all, Monsieur and Madame Loiseau, + wholesale wine merchants of the Rue Grand-Pont, slumbered opposite each + other. Formerly clerk to a merchant who had failed in business, Loiseau + had bought his master's interest, and made a fortune for himself. He sold + very bad wine at a very low price to the retail-dealers in the country, + and had the reputation, among his friends and acquaintances, of being a + shrewd rascal a true Norman, full of quips and wiles. So well established + was his character as a cheat that, in the mouths of the citizens of Rouen, + the very name of Loiseau became a byword for sharp practice. + </p> + <p> + Above and beyond this, Loiseau was noted for his practical jokes of every + description—his tricks, good or ill-natured; and no one could + mention his name without adding at once: “He's an extraordinary man—Loiseau.” + He was undersized and potbellied, had a florid face with grayish whiskers. + </p> + <p> + His wife-tall, strong, determined, with a loud voice and decided manner + —represented the spirit of order and arithmetic in the business + house which Loiseau enlivened by his jovial activity. + </p> + <p> + Beside them, dignified in bearing, belonging to a superior caste, sat + Monsieur Carre-Lamadon, a man of considerable importance, a king in the + cotton trade, proprietor of three spinning-mills, officer of the Legion of + Honor, and member of the General Council. During the whole time the Empire + was in the ascendancy he remained the chief of the well-disposed + Opposition, merely in order to command a higher value for his devotion + when he should rally to the cause which he meanwhile opposed with “courteous + weapons,” to use his own expression. + </p> + <p> + Madame Carre-Lamadon, much younger than her husband, was the consolation + of all the officers of good family quartered at Rouen. Pretty, slender, + graceful, she sat opposite her husband, curled up in her furs, and gazing + mournfully at the sorry interior of the coach. + </p> + <p> + Her neighbors, the Comte and Comtesse Hubert de Breville, bore one of the + noblest and most ancient names in Normandy. The count, a nobleman advanced + in years and of aristocratic bearing, strove to enhance by every artifice + of the toilet, his natural resemblance to King Henry IV, who, according to + a legend of which the family were inordinately proud, had been the favored + lover of a De Breville lady, and father of her child —the frail + one's husband having, in recognition of this fact, been made a count and + governor of a province. + </p> + <p> + A colleague of Monsieur Carre-Lamadon in the General Council, Count Hubert + represented the Orleanist party in his department. The story of his + marriage with the daughter of a small shipowner at Nantes had always + remained more or less of a mystery. But as the countess had an air of + unmistakable breeding, entertained faultlessly, and was even supposed to + have been loved by a son of Louis-Philippe, the nobility vied with one + another in doing her honor, and her drawing-room remained the most select + in the whole countryside—the only one which retained the old spirit + of gallantry, and to which access was not easy. + </p> + <p> + The fortune of the Brevilles, all in real estate, amounted, it was said, + to five hundred thousand francs a year. + </p> + <p> + These six people occupied the farther end of the coach, and represented + Society—with an income—the strong, established society of good + people with religion and principle. + </p> + <p> + It happened by chance that all the women were seated on the same side; and + the countess had, moreover, as neighbors two nuns, who spent the time in + fingering their long rosaries and murmuring paternosters and aves. One of + them was old, and so deeply pitted with smallpox that she looked for all + the world as if she had received a charge of shot full in the face. The + other, of sickly appearance, had a pretty but wasted countenance, and a + narrow, consumptive chest, sapped by that devouring faith which is the + making of martyrs and visionaries. + </p> + <p> + A man and woman, sitting opposite the two nuns, attracted all eyes. + </p> + <p> + The man—a well-known character—was Cornudet, the democrat, the + terror of all respectable people. For the past twenty years his big red + beard had been on terms of intimate acquaintance with the tankards of all + the republican cafes. With the help of his comrades and brethren he had + dissipated a respectable fortune left him by his father, an + old-established confectioner, and he now impatiently awaited the Republic, + that he might at last be rewarded with the post he had earned by his + revolutionary orgies. On the fourth of September—possibly as the + result of a practical joke—he was led to believe that he had been + appointed prefect; but when he attempted to take up the duties of the + position the clerks in charge of the office refused to recognize his + authority, and he was compelled in consequence to retire. A good sort of + fellow in other respects, inoffensive and obliging, he had thrown himself + zealously into the work of making an organized defence of the town. He had + had pits dug in the level country, young forest trees felled, and traps + set on all the roads; then at the approach of the enemy, thoroughly + satisfied with his preparations, he had hastily returned to the town. He + thought he might now do more good at Havre, where new intrenchments would + soon be necessary. + </p> + <p> + The woman, who belonged to the courtesan class, was celebrated for an + embonpoint unusual for her age, which had earned for her the sobriquet of + “Boule de Suif” (Tallow Ball). Short and round, fat as a pig, + with puffy fingers constricted at the joints, looking like rows of short + sausages; with a shiny, tightly-stretched skin and an enormous bust + filling out the bodice of her dress, she was yet attractive and much + sought after, owing to her fresh and pleasing appearance. Her face was + like a crimson apple, a peony-bud just bursting into bloom; she had two + magnificent dark eyes, fringed with thick, heavy lashes, which cast a + shadow into their depths; her mouth was small, ripe, kissable, and was + furnished with the tiniest of white teeth. + </p> + <p> + As soon as she was recognized the respectable matrons of the party began + to whisper among themselves, and the words “hussy” and “public + scandal” were uttered so loudly that Boule de Suif raised her head. + She forthwith cast such a challenging, bold look at her neighbors that a + sudden silence fell on the company, and all lowered their eyes, with the + exception of Loiseau, who watched her with evident interest. + </p> + <p> + But conversation was soon resumed among the three ladies, whom the + presence of this girl had suddenly drawn together in the bonds of + friendship—one might almost say in those of intimacy. They decided + that they ought to combine, as it were, in their dignity as wives in face + of this shameless hussy; for legitimized love always despises its + easygoing brother. + </p> + <p> + The three men, also, brought together by a certain conservative instinct + awakened by the presence of Cornudet, spoke of money matters in a tone + expressive of contempt for the poor. Count Hubert related the losses he + had sustained at the hands of the Prussians, spoke of the cattle which had + been stolen from him, the crops which had been ruined, with the easy + manner of a nobleman who was also a tenfold millionaire, and whom such + reverses would scarcely inconvenience for a single year. Monsieur + Carre-Lamadon, a man of wide experience in the cotton industry, had taken + care to send six hundred thousand francs to England as provision against + the rainy day he was always anticipating. As for Loiseau, he had managed + to sell to the French commissariat department all the wines he had in + stock, so that the state now owed him a considerable sum, which he hoped + to receive at Havre. + </p> + <p> + And all three eyed one another in friendly, well-disposed fashion. + Although of varying social status, they were united in the brotherhood of + money—in that vast freemasonry made up of those who possess, who can + jingle gold wherever they choose to put their hands into their breeches' + pockets. + </p> + <p> + The coach went along so slowly that at ten o'clock in the morning it had + not covered twelve miles. Three times the men of the party got out and + climbed the hills on foot. The passengers were becoming uneasy, for they + had counted on lunching at Totes, and it seemed now as if they would + hardly arrive there before nightfall. Every one was eagerly looking out + for an inn by the roadside, when, suddenly, the coach foundered in a + snowdrift, and it took two hours to extricate it. + </p> + <p> + As appetites increased, their spirits fell; no inn, no wine shop could be + discovered, the approach of the Prussians and the transit of the starving + French troops having frightened away all business. + </p> + <p> + The men sought food in the farmhouses beside the road, but could not find + so much as a crust of bread; for the suspicious peasant invariably hid his + stores for fear of being pillaged by the soldiers, who, being entirely + without food, would take violent possession of everything they found. + </p> + <p> + About one o'clock Loiseau announced that he positively had a big hollow in + his stomach. They had all been suffering in the same way for some time, + and the increasing gnawings of hunger had put an end to all conversation. + </p> + <p> + Now and then some one yawned, another followed his example, and each in + turn, according to his character, breeding and social position, yawned + either quietly or noisily, placing his hand before the gaping void whence + issued breath condensed into vapor. + </p> + <p> + Several times Boule de Suif stooped, as if searching for something under + her petticoats. She would hesitate a moment, look at her neighbors, and + then quietly sit upright again. All faces were pale and drawn. Loiseau + declared he would give a thousand francs for a knuckle of ham. His wife + made an involuntary and quickly checked gesture of protest. It always hurt + her to hear of money being squandered, and she could not even understand + jokes on such a subject. + </p> + <p> + “As a matter of fact, I don't feel well,” said the count. + “Why did I not think of bringing provisions?” Each one + reproached himself in similar fashion. + </p> + <p> + Cornudet, however, had a bottle of rum, which he offered to his neighbors. + They all coldly refused except Loiseau, who took a sip, and returned the + bottle with thanks, saying: “That's good stuff; it warms one up, and + cheats the appetite.” The alcohol put him in good humor, and he + proposed they should do as the sailors did in the song: eat the fattest of + the passengers. This indirect allusion to Boule de Suif shocked the + respectable members of the party. No one replied; only Cornudet smiled. + The two good sisters had ceased to mumble their rosary, and, with hands + enfolded in their wide sleeves, sat motionless, their eyes steadfastly + cast down, doubtless offering up as a sacrifice to Heaven the suffering it + had sent them. + </p> + <p> + At last, at three o'clock, as they were in the midst of an apparently + limitless plain, with not a single village in sight, Boule de Suif stooped + quickly, and drew from underneath the seat a large basket covered with a + white napkin. + </p> + <p> + From this she extracted first of all a small earthenware plate and a + silver drinking cup, then an enormous dish containing two whole chickens + cut into joints and imbedded in jelly. The basket was seen to contain + other good things: pies, fruit, dainties of all sorts-provisions, in fine, + for a three days' journey, rendering their owner independent of wayside + inns. The necks of four bottles protruded from among the food. She took a + chicken wing, and began to eat it daintily, together with one of those + rolls called in Normandy “Regence.” + </p> + <p> + All looks were directed toward her. An odor of food filled the air, + causing nostrils to dilate, mouths to water, and jaws to contract + painfully. The scorn of the ladies for this disreputable female grew + positively ferocious; they would have liked to kill her, or throw, her and + her drinking cup, her basket, and her provisions, out of the coach into + the snow of the road below. + </p> + <p> + But Loiseau's gaze was fixed greedily on the dish of chicken. He said: + </p> + <p> + “Well, well, this lady had more forethought than the rest of us. + Some people think of everything.” + </p> + <p> + She looked up at him. + </p> + <p> + “Would you like some, sir? It is hard to go on fasting all day.” + </p> + <p> + He bowed. + </p> + <p> + “Upon my soul, I can't refuse; I cannot hold out another minute. All + is fair in war time, is it not, madame?” And, casting a glance on + those around, he added: + </p> + <p> + “At times like this it is very pleasant to meet with obliging + people.” + </p> + <p> + He spread a newspaper over his knees to avoid soiling his trousers, and, + with a pocketknife he always carried, helped himself to a chicken leg + coated with jelly, which he thereupon proceeded to devour. + </p> + <p> + Then Boule le Suif, in low, humble tones, invited the nuns to partake of + her repast. They both accepted the offer unhesitatingly, and after a few + stammered words of thanks began to eat quickly, without raising their + eyes. Neither did Cornudet refuse his neighbor's offer, and, in + combination with the nuns, a sort of table was formed by opening out the + newspaper over the four pairs of knees. + </p> + <p> + Mouths kept opening and shutting, ferociously masticating and devouring + the food. Loiseau, in his corner, was hard at work, and in low tones urged + his wife to follow his example. She held out for a long time, but + overstrained Nature gave way at last. Her husband, assuming his politest + manner, asked their “charming companion” if he might be + allowed to offer Madame Loiseau a small helping. + </p> + <p> + “Why, certainly, sir,” she replied, with an amiable smile, + holding out the dish. + </p> + <p> + When the first bottle of claret was opened some embarrassment was caused + by the fact that there was only one drinking cup, but this was passed from + one to another, after being wiped. Cornudet alone, doubtless in a spirit + of gallantry, raised to his own lips that part of the rim which was still + moist from those of his fair neighbor. + </p> + <p> + Then, surrounded by people who were eating, and well-nigh suffocated by + the odor of food, the Comte and Comtesse de Breville and Monsieur and + Madame Carre-Lamadon endured that hateful form of torture which has + perpetuated the name of Tantalus. All at once the manufacturer's young + wife heaved a sigh which made every one turn and look at her; she was + white as the snow without; her eyes closed, her head fell forward; she had + fainted. Her husband, beside himself, implored the help of his neighbors. + No one seemed to know what to do until the elder of the two nuns, raising + the patient's head, placed Boule de Suif's drinking cup to her lips, and + made her swallow a few drops of wine. The pretty invalid moved, opened her + eyes, smiled, and declared in a feeble voice that she was all right again. + But, to prevent a recurrence of the catastrophe, the nun made her drink a + cupful of claret, adding: “It's just hunger —that's what is + wrong with you.” + </p> + <p> + Then Boule de Suif, blushing and embarrassed, stammered, looking at the + four passengers who were still fasting: + </p> + <p> + “'Mon Dieu', if I might offer these ladies and gentlemen——” + </p> + <p> + She stopped short, fearing a snub. But Loiseau continued: + </p> + <p> + “Hang it all, in such a case as this we are all brothers and sisters + and ought to assist each other. Come, come, ladies, don't stand on + ceremony, for goodness' sake! Do we even know whether we shall find a + house in which to pass the night? At our present rate of going we sha'n't + be at Totes till midday to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + They hesitated, no one daring to be the first to accept. But the count + settled the question. He turned toward the abashed girl, and in his most + distinguished manner said: + </p> + <p> + “We accept gratefully, madame.” + </p> + <p> + As usual, it was only the first step that cost. This Rubicon once crossed, + they set to work with a will. The basket was emptied. It still contained a + pate de foie gras, a lark pie, a piece of smoked tongue, Crassane pears, + Pont-Leveque gingerbread, fancy cakes, and a cup full of pickled gherkins + and onions—Boule de Suif, like all women, being very fond of + indigestible things. + </p> + <p> + They could not eat this girl's provisions without speaking to her. So they + began to talk, stiffly at first; then, as she seemed by no means forward, + with greater freedom. Mesdames de Breville and Carre-Lamadon, who were + accomplished women of the world, were gracious and tactful. The countess + especially displayed that amiable condescension characteristic of great + ladies whom no contact with baser mortals can sully, and was absolutely + charming. But the sturdy Madame Loiseau, who had the soul of a gendarme, + continued morose, speaking little and eating much. + </p> + <p> + Conversation naturally turned on the war. Terrible stories were told about + the Prussians, deeds of bravery were recounted of the French; and all + these people who were fleeing themselves were ready to pay homage to the + courage of their compatriots. Personal experiences soon followed, and + Boule le Suif related with genuine emotion, and with that warmth of + language not uncommon in women of her class and temperament, how it came + about that she had left Rouen. + </p> + <p> + “I thought at first that I should be able to stay,” she said. + “My house was well stocked with provisions, and it seemed better to + put up with feeding a few soldiers than to banish myself goodness knows + where. But when I saw these Prussians it was too much for me! My blood + boiled with rage; I wept the whole day for very shame. Oh, if only I had + been a man! I looked at them from my window—the fat swine, with + their pointed helmets!—and my maid held my hands to keep me from + throwing my furniture down on them. Then some of them were quartered on + me; I flew at the throat of the first one who entered. They are just as + easy to strangle as other men! And I'd have been the death of that one if + I hadn't been dragged away from him by my hair. I had to hide after that. + And as soon as I could get an opportunity I left the place, and here I am.” + </p> + <p> + She was warmly congratulated. She rose in the estimation of her + companions, who had not been so brave; and Cornudet listened to her with + the approving and benevolent smile of an apostle, the smile a priest might + wear in listening to a devotee praising God; for long-bearded democrats of + his type have a monopoly of patriotism, just as priests have a monopoly of + religion. He held forth in turn, with dogmatic self-assurance, in the + style of the proclamations daily pasted on the walls of the town, winding + up with a specimen of stump oratory in which he reviled “that + besotted fool of a Louis-Napoleon.” + </p> + <p> + But Boule de Suif was indignant, for she was an ardent Bonapartist. She + turned as red as a cherry, and stammered in her wrath: “I'd just + like to have seen you in his place—you and your sort! There would + have been a nice mix-up. Oh, yes! It was you who betrayed that man. It + would be impossible to live in France if we were governed by such rascals + as you!” + </p> + <p> + Cornudet, unmoved by this tirade, still smiled a superior, contemptuous + smile; and one felt that high words were impending, when the count + interposed, and, not without difficulty, succeeded in calming the + exasperated woman, saying that all sincere opinions ought to be respected. + But the countess and the manufacturer's wife, imbued with the unreasoning + hatred of the upper classes for the Republic, and instinct, moreover, with + the affection felt by all women for the pomp and circumstance of despotic + government, were drawn, in spite of themselves, toward this dignified + young woman, whose opinions coincided so closely with their own. + </p> + <p> + The basket was empty. The ten people had finished its contents without + difficulty amid general regret that it did not hold more. Conversation + went on a little longer, though it flagged somewhat after the passengers + had finished eating. + </p> + <p> + Night fell, the darkness grew deeper and deeper, and the cold made Boule + de Suif shiver, in spite of her plumpness. So Madame de Breville offered + her her foot-warmer, the fuel of which had been several times renewed + since the morning, and she accepted the offer at once, for her feet were + icy cold. Mesdames Carre-Lamadon and Loiseau gave theirs to the nuns. + </p> + <p> + The driver lighted his lanterns. They cast a bright gleam on a cloud of + vapor which hovered over the sweating flanks of the horses, and on the + roadside snow, which seemed to unroll as they went along in the changing + light of the lamps. + </p> + <p> + All was now indistinguishable in the coach; but suddenly a movement + occurred in the corner occupied by Boule de Suif and Cornudet; and + Loiseau, peering into the gloom, fancied he saw the big, bearded democrat + move hastily to one side, as if he had received a well-directed, though + noiseless, blow in the dark. + </p> + <p> + Tiny lights glimmered ahead. It was Totes. The coach had been on the road + eleven hours, which, with the three hours allotted the horses in four + periods for feeding and breathing, made fourteen. It entered the town, and + stopped before the Hotel du Commerce. + </p> + <p> + The coach door opened; a well-known noise made all the travellers start; + it was the clanging of a scabbard, on the pavement; then a voice called + out something in German. + </p> + <p> + Although the coach had come to a standstill, no one got out; it looked as + if they were afraid of being murdered the moment they left their seats. + Thereupon the driver appeared, holding in his hand one of his lanterns, + which cast a sudden glow on the interior of the coach, lighting up the + double row of startled faces, mouths agape, and eyes wide open in surprise + and terror. + </p> + <p> + Beside the driver stood in the full light a German officer, a tall young + man, fair and slender, tightly encased in his uniform like a woman in her + corset, his flat shiny cap, tilted to one side of his head, making him + look like an English hotel runner. His exaggerated mustache, long and + straight and tapering to a point at either end in a single blond hair that + could hardly be seen, seemed to weigh down the corners of his mouth and + give a droop to his lips. + </p> + <p> + In Alsatian French he requested the travellers to alight, saying stiffly: + </p> + <p> + “Kindly get down, ladies and gentlemen.” + </p> + <p> + The two nuns were the first to obey, manifesting the docility of holy + women accustomed to submission on every occasion. Next appeared the count + and countess, followed by the manufacturer and his wife, after whom came + Loiseau, pushing his larger and better half before him. + </p> + <p> + “Good-day, sir,” he said to the officer as he put his foot to + the ground, acting on an impulse born of prudence rather than of + politeness. The other, insolent like all in authority, merely stared + without replying. + </p> + <p> + Boule de Suif and Cornudet, though near the door, were the last to alight, + grave and dignified before the enemy. The stout girl tried to control + herself and appear calm; the democrat stroked his long russet beard with a + somewhat trembling hand. Both strove to maintain their dignity, knowing + well that at such a time each individual is always looked upon as more or + less typical of his nation; and, also, resenting the complaisant attitude + of their companions, Boule de Suif tried to wear a bolder front than her + neighbors, the virtuous women, while he, feeling that it was incumbent on + him to set a good example, kept up the attitude of resistance which he had + first assumed when he undertook to mine the high roads round Rouen. + </p> + <p> + They entered the spacious kitchen of the inn, and the German, having + demanded the passports signed by the general in command, in which were + mentioned the name, description and profession of each traveller, + inspected them all minutely, comparing their appearance with the written + particulars. + </p> + <p> + Then he said brusquely: “All right,” and turned on his heel. + </p> + <p> + They breathed freely, All were still hungry; so supper was ordered. Half + an hour was required for its preparation, and while two servants were + apparently engaged in getting it ready the travellers went to look at + their rooms. These all opened off a long corridor, at the end of which was + a glazed door with a number on it. + </p> + <p> + They were just about to take their seats at table when the innkeeper + appeared in person. He was a former horse dealer—a large, asthmatic + individual, always wheezing, coughing, and clearing his throat. Follenvie + was his patronymic. + </p> + <p> + He called: + </p> + <p> + “Mademoiselle Elisabeth Rousset?” + </p> + <p> + Boule de Suif started, and turned round. + </p> + <p> + “That is my name.” + </p> + <p> + “Mademoiselle, the Prussian officer wishes to speak to you + immediately.” + </p> + <p> + “To me?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; if you are Mademoiselle Elisabeth Rousset.” + </p> + <p> + She hesitated, reflected a moment, and then declared roundly: + </p> + <p> + “That may be; but I'm not going.” + </p> + <p> + They moved restlessly around her; every one wondered and speculated as to + the cause of this order. The count approached: + </p> + <p> + “You are wrong, madame, for your refusal may bring trouble not only + on yourself but also on all your companions. It never pays to resist those + in authority. Your compliance with this request cannot possibly be fraught + with any danger; it has probably been made because some formality or other + was forgotten.” + </p> + <p> + All added their voices to that of the count; Boule de Suif was begged, + urged, lectured, and at last convinced; every one was afraid of the + complications which might result from headstrong action on her part. She + said finally: + </p> + <p> + “I am doing it for your sakes, remember that!” + </p> + <p> + The countess took her hand. + </p> + <p> + “And we are grateful to you.” + </p> + <p> + She left the room. All waited for her return before commencing the meal. + Each was distressed that he or she had not been sent for rather than this + impulsive, quick-tempered girl, and each mentally rehearsed platitudes in + case of being summoned also. + </p> + <p> + But at the end of ten minutes she reappeared breathing hard, crimson with + indignation. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! the scoundrel! the scoundrel!” she stammered. + </p> + <p> + All were anxious to know what had happened; but she declined to enlighten + them, and when the count pressed the point, she silenced him with much + dignity, saying: + </p> + <p> + “No; the matter has nothing to do with you, and I cannot speak of + it.” + </p> + <p> + Then they took their places round a high soup tureen, from which issued an + odor of cabbage. In spite of this coincidence, the supper was cheerful. + The cider was good; the Loiseaus and the nuns drank it from motives of + economy. The others ordered wine; Cornudet demanded beer. He had his own + fashion of uncorking the bottle and making the beer foam, gazing at it as + he inclined his glass and then raised it to a position between the lamp + and his eye that he might judge of its color. When he drank, his great + beard, which matched the color of his favorite beverage, seemed to tremble + with affection; his eyes positively squinted in the endeavor not to lose + sight of the beloved glass, and he looked for all the world as if he were + fulfilling the only function for which he was born. He seemed to have + established in his mind an affinity between the two great passions of his + life—pale ale and revolution—and assuredly he could not taste + the one without dreaming of the other. + </p> + <p> + Monsieur and Madame Follenvie dined at the end of the table. The man, + wheezing like a broken-down locomotive, was too short-winded to talk when + he was eating. But the wife was not silent a moment; she told how the + Prussians had impressed her on their arrival, what they did, what they + said; execrating them in the first place because they cost her money, and + in the second because she had two sons in the army. She addressed herself + principally to the countess, flattered at the opportunity of talking to a + lady of quality. + </p> + <p> + Then she lowered her voice, and began to broach delicate subjects. Her + husband interrupted her from time to time, saying: + </p> + <p> + “You would do well to hold your tongue, Madame Follenvie.” + </p> + <p> + But she took no notice of him, and went on: + </p> + <p> + “Yes, madame, these Germans do nothing but eat potatoes and pork, + and then pork and potatoes. And don't imagine for a moment that they are + clean! No, indeed! And if only you saw them drilling for hours, indeed for + days, together; they all collect in a field, then they do nothing but + march backward and forward, and wheel this way and that. If only they + would cultivate the land, or remain at home and work on their high roads! + Really, madame, these soldiers are of no earthly use! Poor people have to + feed and keep them, only in order that they may learn how to kill! True, I + am only an old woman with no education, but when I see them wearing + themselves out marching about from morning till night, I say to myself: + When there are people who make discoveries that are of use to people, why + should others take so much trouble to do harm? Really, now, isn't it a + terrible thing to kill people, whether they are Prussians, or English, or + Poles, or French? If we revenge ourselves on any one who injures us we do + wrong, and are punished for it; but when our sons are shot down like + partridges, that is all right, and decorations are given to the man who + kills the most. No, indeed, I shall never be able to understand it.” + </p> + <p> + Cornudet raised his voice: + </p> + <p> + “War is a barbarous proceeding when we attack a peaceful neighbor, + but it is a sacred duty when undertaken in defence of one's country.” + </p> + <p> + The old woman looked down: + </p> + <p> + “Yes; it's another matter when one acts in self-defence; but would + it not be better to kill all the kings, seeing that they make war just to + amuse themselves?” + </p> + <p> + Cornudet's eyes kindled. + </p> + <p> + “Bravo, citizens!” he said. + </p> + <p> + Monsieur Carre-Lamadon was reflecting profoundly. Although an ardent + admirer of great generals, the peasant woman's sturdy common sense made + him reflect on the wealth which might accrue to a country by the + employment of so many idle hands now maintained at a great expense, of so + much unproductive force, if they were employed in those great industrial + enterprises which it will take centuries to complete. + </p> + <p> + But Loiseau, leaving his seat, went over to the innkeeper and began + chatting in a low voice. The big man chuckled, coughed, sputtered; his + enormous carcass shook with merriment at the pleasantries of the other; + and he ended by buying six casks of claret from Loiseau to be delivered in + spring, after the departure of the Prussians. + </p> + <p> + The moment supper was over every one went to bed, worn out with fatigue. + </p> + <p> + But Loiseau, who had been making his observations on the sly, sent his + wife to bed, and amused himself by placing first his ear, and then his + eye, to the bedroom keyhole, in order to discover what he called “the + mysteries of the corridor.” + </p> + <p> + At the end of about an hour he heard a rustling, peeped out quickly, and + caught sight of Boule de Suif, looking more rotund than ever in a + dressing-gown of blue cashmere trimmed with white lace. She held a candle + in her hand, and directed her steps to the numbered door at the end of the + corridor. But one of the side doors was partly opened, and when, at the + end of a few minutes, she returned, Cornudet, in his shirt-sleeves, + followed her. They spoke in low tones, then stopped short. Boule de Suif + seemed to be stoutly denying him admission to her room. Unfortunately, + Loiseau could not at first hear what they said; but toward the end of the + conversation they raised their voices, and he caught a few words. Cornudet + was loudly insistent. + </p> + <p> + “How silly you are! What does it matter to you?” he said. + </p> + <p> + She seemed indignant, and replied: + </p> + <p> + “No, my good man, there are times when one does not do that sort of + thing; besides, in this place it would be shameful.” + </p> + <p> + Apparently he did not understand, and asked the reason. Then she lost her + temper and her caution, and, raising her voice still higher, said: + </p> + <p> + “Why? Can't you understand why? When there are Prussians in the + house! Perhaps even in the very next room!” + </p> + <p> + He was silent. The patriotic shame of this wanton, who would not suffer + herself to be caressed in the neighborhood of the enemy, must have roused + his dormant dignity, for after bestowing on her a simple kiss he crept + softly back to his room. Loiseau, much edified, capered round the bedroom + before taking his place beside his slumbering spouse. + </p> + <p> + Then silence reigned throughout the house. But soon there arose from some + remote part—it might easily have been either cellar or attic—a + stertorous, monotonous, regular snoring, a dull, prolonged rumbling, + varied by tremors like those of a boiler under pressure of steam. Monsieur + Follenvie had gone to sleep. + </p> + <p> + As they had decided on starting at eight o'clock the next morning, every + one was in the kitchen at that hour; but the coach, its roof covered with + snow, stood by itself in the middle of the yard, without either horses or + driver. They sought the latter in the stables, coach-houses and barns + —but in vain. So the men of the party resolved to scour the country + for him, and sallied forth. They found themselves in the square, with the + church at the farther side, and to right and left low-roofed houses where + there were some Prussian soldiers. The first soldier they saw was peeling + potatoes. The second, farther on, was washing out a barber's shop. Another, bearded to the eyes, was fondling a crying infant, and dandling it + on his knees to quiet it; and the stout peasant women, whose men-folk were + for the most part at the war, were, by means of signs, telling their + obedient conquerors what work they were to do: chop wood, prepare soup, + grind coffee; one of them even was doing the washing for his hostess, an + infirm old grandmother. + </p> + <p> + The count, astonished at what he saw, questioned the beadle who was coming + out of the presbytery. The old man answered: + </p> + <p> + “Oh, those men are not at all a bad sort; they are not Prussians, I + am told; they come from somewhere farther off, I don't exactly know where. + And they have all left wives and children behind them; they are not fond + of war either, you may be sure! I am sure they are mourning for the men + where they come from, just as we do here; and the war causes them just as + much unhappiness as it does us. As a matter of fact, things are not so + very bad here just now, because the soldiers do no harm, and work just as + if they were in their own homes. You see, sir, poor folk always help one + another; it is the great ones of this world who make war.” + </p> + <p> + Cornudet indignant at the friendly understanding established between + conquerors and conquered, withdrew, preferring to shut himself up in the + inn. + </p> + <p> + “They are repeopling the country,” jested Loiseau. + </p> + <p> + “They are undoing the harm they have done,” said Monsieur + Carre-Lamadon gravely. + </p> + <p> + But they could not find the coach driver. At last he was discovered in the + village cafe, fraternizing cordially with the officer's orderly. + </p> + <p> + “Were you not told to harness the horses at eight o'clock?” + demanded the count. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes; but I've had different orders since.” + </p> + <p> + “What orders?” + </p> + <p> + “Not to harness at all.” + </p> + <p> + “Who gave you such orders?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, the Prussian officer.” + </p> + <p> + “But why?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know. Go and ask him. I am forbidden to harness the horses, + so I don't harness them—that's all.” + </p> + <p> + “Did he tell you so himself?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir; the innkeeper gave me the order from him.” + </p> + <p> + “When?” + </p> + <p> + “Last evening, just as I was going to bed.” + </p> + <p> + The three men returned in a very uneasy frame of mind. + </p> + <p> + They asked for Monsieur Follenvie, but the servant replied that on account + of his asthma he never got up before ten o'clock. They were strictly + forbidden to rouse him earlier, except in case of fire. + </p> + <p> + They wished to see the officer, but that also was impossible, although he + lodged in the inn. Monsieur Follenvie alone was authorized to interview + him on civil matters. So they waited. The women returned to their rooms, + and occupied themselves with trivial matters. + </p> + <p> + Cornudet settled down beside the tall kitchen fireplace, before a blazing + fire. He had a small table and a jug of beer placed beside him, and he + smoked his pipe—a pipe which enjoyed among democrats a consideration + almost equal to his own, as though it had served its country in serving + Cornudet. It was a fine meerschaum, admirably colored to a black the shade + of its owner's teeth, but sweet-smelling, gracefully curved, at home in + its master's hand, and completing his physiognomy. And Cornudet sat + motionless, his eyes fixed now on the dancing flames, now on the froth + which crowned his beer; and after each draught he passed his long, thin + fingers with an air of satisfaction through his long, greasy hair, as he + sucked the foam from his mustache. + </p> + <p> + Loiseau, under pretence of stretching his legs, went out to see if he + could sell wine to the country dealers. The count and the manufacturer + began to talk politics. They forecast the future of France. One believed + in the Orleans dynasty, the other in an unknown savior—a hero who + should rise up in the last extremity: a Du Guesclin, perhaps a Joan of + Arc? or another Napoleon the First? Ah! if only the Prince Imperial were + not so young! Cornudet, listening to them, smiled like a man who holds the + keys of destiny in his hands. His pipe perfumed the whole kitchen. + </p> + <p> + As the clock struck ten, Monsieur Follenvie appeared. He was immediately + surrounded and questioned, but could only repeat, three or four times in + succession, and without variation, the words: + </p> + <p> + “The officer said to me, just like this: 'Monsieur Follenvie, you + will forbid them to harness up the coach for those travellers to-morrow. + They are not to start without an order from me. You hear? That is + sufficient.'” + </p> + <p> + Then they asked to see the officer. The count sent him his card, on which + Monsieur Carre-Lamadon also inscribed his name and titles. The Prussian + sent word that the two men would be admitted to see him after his luncheon—that + is to say, about one o'clock. + </p> + <p> + The ladies reappeared, and they all ate a little, in spite of their + anxiety. Boule de Suif appeared ill and very much worried. + </p> + <p> + They were finishing their coffee when the orderly came to fetch the + gentlemen. + </p> + <p> + Loiseau joined the other two; but when they tried to get Cornudet to + accompany them, by way of adding greater solemnity to the occasion, he + declared proudly that he would never have anything to do with the Germans, + and, resuming his seat in the chimney corner, he called for another jug of + beer. + </p> + <p> + The three men went upstairs, and were ushered into the best room in the + inn, where the officer received them lolling at his ease in an armchair, + his feet on the mantelpiece, smoking a long porcelain pipe, and enveloped + in a gorgeous dressing-gown, doubtless stolen from the deserted dwelling + of some citizen destitute of taste in dress. He neither rose, greeted + them, nor even glanced in their direction. He afforded a fine example of + that insolence of bearing which seems natural to the victorious soldier. + </p> + <p> + After the lapse of a few moments he said in his halting French: + </p> + <p> + “What do you want?” + </p> + <p> + “We wish to start on our journey,” said the count. + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “May I ask the reason of your refusal?” + </p> + <p> + “Because I don't choose.” + </p> + <p> + “I would respectfully call your attention, monsieur, to the fact + that your general in command gave us a permit to proceed to Dieppe; and I + do not think we have done anything to deserve this harshness at your + hands.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't choose—that's all. You may go.” + </p> + <p> + They bowed, and retired. + </p> + <p> + The afternoon was wretched. They could not understand the caprice of this + German, and the strangest ideas came into their heads. They all + congregated in the kitchen, and talked the subject to death, imagining all + kinds of unlikely things. Perhaps they were to be kept as hostages —but + for what reason? or to be extradited as prisoners of war? or possibly they + were to be held for ransom? They were panic-stricken at this last + supposition. The richest among them were the most alarmed, seeing + themselves forced to empty bags of gold into the insolent soldier's hands + in order to buy back their lives. They racked their brains for plausible + lies whereby they might conceal the fact that they were rich, and pass + themselves off as poor—very poor. Loiseau took off his watch chain, + and put it in his pocket. The approach of night increased their + apprehension. The lamp was lighted, and as it wanted yet two hours to + dinner Madame Loiseau proposed a game of trente et un. It would distract + their thoughts. The rest agreed, and Cornudet himself joined the party, + first putting out his pipe for politeness' sake. + </p> + <p> + The count shuffled the cards—dealt—and Boule de Suif had + thirty-one to start with; soon the interest of the game assuaged the + anxiety of the players. But Cornudet noticed that Loiseau and his wife + were in league to cheat. + </p> + <p> + They were about to sit down to dinner when Monsieur Follenvie appeared, + and in his grating voice announced: + </p> + <p> + “The Prussian officer sends to ask Mademoiselle Elisabeth Rousset if + she has changed her mind yet.” + </p> + <p> + Boule de Suif stood still, pale as death. Then, suddenly turning crimson + with anger, she gasped out: + </p> + <p> + “Kindly tell that scoundrel, that cur, that carrion of a Prussian, + that I will never consent—you understand?—never, never, never!” + </p> + <p> + The fat innkeeper left the room. Then Boule de Suif was surrounded, + questioned, entreated on all sides to reveal the mystery of her visit to + the officer. She refused at first; but her wrath soon got the better of + her. + </p> + <p> + “What does he want? He wants to make me his mistress!” she + cried. + </p> + <p> + No one was shocked at the word, so great was the general indignation. + Cornudet broke his jug as he banged it down on the table. A loud outcry + arose against this base soldier. All were furious. They drew together in + common resistance against the foe, as if some part of the sacrifice + exacted of Boule de Suif had been demanded of each. The count declared, + with supreme disgust, that those people behaved like ancient barbarians. + The women, above all, manifested a lively and tender sympathy for Boule de + Suif. The nuns, who appeared only at meals, cast down their eyes, and said + nothing. + </p> + <p> + They dined, however, as soon as the first indignant outburst had subsided; + but they spoke little and thought much. + </p> + <p> + The ladies went to bed early; and the men, having lighted their pipes, + proposed a game of ecarte, in which Monsieur Follenvie was invited to + join, the travellers hoping to question him skillfully as to the best + means of vanquishing the officer's obduracy. But he thought of nothing but + his cards, would listen to nothing, reply to nothing, and repeated, time + after time: “Attend to the game, gentlemen! attend to the game!” + So absorbed was his attention that he even forgot to expectorate. The + consequence was that his chest gave forth rumbling sounds like those of an + organ. His wheezing lungs struck every note of the asthmatic scale, from + deep, hollow tones to a shrill, hoarse piping resembling that of a young + cock trying to crow. + </p> + <p> + He refused to go to bed when his wife, overcome with sleep, came to fetch + him. So she went off alone, for she was an early bird, always up with the + sun; while he was addicted to late hours, ever ready to spend the night + with friends. He merely said: “Put my egg-nogg by the fire,” + and went on with the game. When the other men saw that nothing was to be + got out of him they declared it was time to retire, and each sought his + bed. + </p> + <p> + They rose fairly early the next morning, with a vague hope of being + allowed to start, a greater desire than ever to do so, and a terror at + having to spend another day in this wretched little inn. + </p> + <p> + Alas! the horses remained in the stable, the driver was invisible. They + spent their time, for want of something better to do, in wandering round + the coach. + </p> + <p> + Luncheon was a gloomy affair; and there was a general coolness toward + Boule de Suif, for night, which brings counsel, had somewhat modified the + judgment of her companions. In the cold light of the morning they almost + bore a grudge against the girl for not having secretly sought out the + Prussian, that the rest of the party might receive a joyful surprise when + they awoke. What more simple? + </p> + <p> + Besides, who would have been the wiser? She might have saved appearances + by telling the officer that she had taken pity on their distress. Such a + step would be of so little consequence to her. + </p> + <p> + But no one as yet confessed to such thoughts. + </p> + <p> + In the afternoon, seeing that they were all bored to death, the count + proposed a walk in the neighborhood of the village. Each one wrapped + himself up well, and the little party set out, leaving behind only + Cornudet, who preferred to sit over the fire, and the two nuns, who were + in the habit of spending their day in the church or at the presbytery. + </p> + <p> + The cold, which grew more intense each day, almost froze the noses and + ears of the pedestrians, their feet began to pain them so that each step + was a penance, and when they reached the open country it looked so + mournful and depressing in its limitless mantle of white that they all + hastily retraced their steps, with bodies benumbed and hearts heavy. + </p> + <p> + The four women walked in front, and the three men followed a little in + their rear. + </p> + <p> + Loiseau, who saw perfectly well how matters stood, asked suddenly “if + that trollop were going to keep them waiting much longer in this + Godforsaken spot.” The count, always courteous, replied that they + could not exact so painful a sacrifice from any woman, and that the first + move must come from herself. Monsieur Carre-Lamadon remarked that if the + French, as they talked of doing, made a counter attack by way of Dieppe, + their encounter with the enemy must inevitably take place at Totes. This + reflection made the other two anxious. + </p> + <p> + “Supposing we escape on foot?” said Loiseau. + </p> + <p> + The count shrugged his shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “How can you think of such a thing, in this snow? And with our + wives? Besides, we should be pursued at once, overtaken in ten minutes, + and brought back as prisoners at the mercy of the soldiery.” + </p> + <p> + This was true enough; they were silent. + </p> + <p> + The ladies talked of dress, but a certain constraint seemed to prevail + among them. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly, at the end of the street, the officer appeared. His tall, + wasp-like, uniformed figure was outlined against the snow which bounded + the horizon, and he walked, knees apart, with that motion peculiar to + soldiers, who are always anxious not to soil their carefully polished + boots. + </p> + <p> + He bowed as he passed the ladies, then glanced scornfully at the men, who + had sufficient dignity not to raise their hats, though Loiseau made a + movement to do so. + </p> + <p> + Boule de Suif flushed crimson to the ears, and the three married women + felt unutterably humiliated at being met thus by the soldier in company + with the girl whom he had treated with such scant ceremony. + </p> + <p> + Then they began to talk about him, his figure, and his face. Madame + Carre-Lamadon, who had known many officers and judged them as a + connoisseur, thought him not at all bad-looking; she even regretted that + he was not a Frenchman, because in that case he would have made a very + handsome hussar, with whom all the women would assuredly have fallen in + love. + </p> + <p> + When they were once more within doors they did not know what to do with + themselves. Sharp words even were exchanged apropos of the merest trifles. + The silent dinner was quickly over, and each one went to bed early in the + hope of sleeping, and thus killing time. + </p> + <p> + They came down next morning with tired faces and irritable tempers; the + women scarcely spoke to Boule de Suif. + </p> + <p> + A church bell summoned the faithful to a baptism. Boule de Suif had a + child being brought up by peasants at Yvetot. She did not see him once a + year, and never thought of him; but the idea of the child who was about to + be baptized induced a sudden wave of tenderness for her own, and she + insisted on being present at the ceremony. + </p> + <p> + As soon as she had gone out, the rest of the company looked at one another + and then drew their chairs together; for they realized that they must + decide on some course of action. Loiseau had an inspiration: he proposed + that they should ask the officer to detain Boule de Suif only, and to let + the rest depart on their way. + </p> + <p> + Monsieur Follenvie was intrusted with this commission, but he returned to + them almost immediately. The German, who knew human nature, had shown him + the door. He intended to keep all the travellers until his condition had + been complied with. + </p> + <p> + Whereupon Madame Loiseau's vulgar temperament broke bounds. + </p> + <p> + “We're not going to die of old age here!” she cried. “Since + it's that vixen's trade to behave so with men I don't see that she has any + right to refuse one more than another. I may as well tell you she took any + lovers she could get at Rouen—even coachmen! Yes, indeed, madame—the + coachman at the prefecture! I know it for a fact, for he buys his wine of + us. And now that it is a question of getting us out of a difficulty she + puts on virtuous airs, the drab! For my part, I think this officer has + behaved very well. Why, there were three others of us, any one of whom he + would undoubtedly have preferred. But no, he contents himself with the + girl who is common property. He respects married women. Just think. He is + master here. He had only to say: 'I wish it!' and he might have taken us + by force, with the help of his soldiers.” + </p> + <p> + The two other women shuddered; the eyes of pretty Madame Carre-Lamadon + glistened, and she grew pale, as if the officer were indeed in the act of + laying violent hands on her. + </p> + <p> + The men, who had been discussing the subject among themselves, drew near. + Loiseau, in a state of furious resentment, was for delivering up “that + miserable woman,” bound hand and foot, into the enemy's power. But + the count, descended from three generations of ambassadors, and endowed, + moreover, with the lineaments of a diplomat, was in favor of more tactful + measures. + </p> + <p> + “We must persuade her,” he said. + </p> + <p> + Then they laid their plans. + </p> + <p> + The women drew together; they lowered their voices, and the discussion + became general, each giving his or her opinion. But the conversation was + not in the least coarse. The ladies, in particular, were adepts at + delicate phrases and charming subtleties of expression to describe the + most improper things. A stranger would have understood none of their + allusions, so guarded was the language they employed. But, seeing that the + thin veneer of modesty with which every woman of the world is furnished + goes but a very little way below the surface, they began rather to enjoy + this unedifying episode, and at bottom were hugely delighted —feeling + themselves in their element, furthering the schemes of lawless love with + the gusto of a gourmand cook who prepares supper for another. + </p> + <p> + Their gaiety returned of itself, so amusing at last did the whole business + seem to them. The count uttered several rather risky witticisms, but so + tactfully were they said that his audience could not help smiling. Loiseau + in turn made some considerably broader jokes, but no one took offence; and + the thought expressed with such brutal directness by his wife was + uppermost in the minds of all: “Since it's the girl's trade, why + should she refuse this man more than another?” Dainty Madame + Carre-Lamadon seemed to think even that in Boule de Suif's place she would + be less inclined to refuse him than another. + </p> + <p> + The blockade was as carefully arranged as if they were investing a + fortress. Each agreed on the role which he or she was to play, the + arguments to be used, the maneuvers to be executed. They decided on the + plan of campaign, the stratagems they were to employ, and the surprise + attacks which were to reduce this human citadel and force it to receive + the enemy within its walls. + </p> + <p> + But Cornudet remained apart from the rest, taking no share in the plot. + </p> + <p> + So absorbed was the attention of all that Boule de Suif's entrance was + almost unnoticed. But the count whispered a gentle “Hush!” + which made the others look up. She was there. They suddenly stopped + talking, and a vague embarrassment prevented them for a few moments from + addressing her. But the countess, more practiced than the others in the + wiles of the drawing-room, asked her: + </p> + <p> + “Was the baptism interesting?” + </p> + <p> + The girl, still under the stress of emotion, told what she had seen and + heard, described the faces, the attitudes of those present, and even the + appearance of the church. She concluded with the words: + </p> + <p> + “It does one good to pray sometimes.” + </p> + <p> + Until lunch time the ladies contented themselves with being pleasant to + her, so as to increase her confidence and make her amenable to their + advice. + </p> + <p> + As soon as they took their seats at table the attack began. First they + opened a vague conversation on the subject of self-sacrifice. Ancient + examples were quoted: Judith and Holofernes; then, irrationally enough, + Lucrece and Sextus; Cleopatra and the hostile generals whom she reduced to + abject slavery by a surrender of her charms. Next was recounted an + extraordinary story, born of the imagination of these ignorant + millionaires, which told how the matrons of Rome seduced Hannibal, his + lieutenants, and all his mercenaries at Capua. They held up to admiration + all those women who from time to time have arrested the victorious + progress of conquerors, made of their bodies a field of battle, a means of + ruling, a weapon; who have vanquished by their heroic caresses hideous or + detested beings, and sacrificed their chastity to vengeance and devotion. + </p> + <p> + All was said with due restraint and regard for propriety, the effect + heightened now and then by an outburst of forced enthusiasm calculated to + excite emulation. + </p> + <p> + A listener would have thought at last that the one role of woman on earth + was a perpetual sacrifice of her person, a continual abandonment of + herself to the caprices of a hostile soldiery. + </p> + <p> + The two nuns seemed to hear nothing, and to be lost in thought. Boule de + Suif also was silent. + </p> + <p> + During the whole afternoon she was left to her reflections. But instead of + calling her “madame” as they had done hitherto, her companions + addressed her simply as “mademoiselle,” without exactly + knowing why, but as if desirous of making her descend a step in the esteem + she had won, and forcing her to realize her degraded position. + </p> + <p> + Just as soup was served, Monsieur Follenvie reappeared, repeating his + phrase of the evening before: + </p> + <p> + “The Prussian officer sends to ask if Mademoiselle Elisabeth Rousset + has changed her mind.” + </p> + <p> + Boule de Suif answered briefly: + </p> + <p> + “No, monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + But at dinner the coalition weakened. Loiseau made three unfortunate + remarks. Each was cudgeling his brains for further examples of + self-sacrifice, and could find none, when the countess, possibly without + ulterior motive, and moved simply by a vague desire to do homage to + religion, began to question the elder of the two nuns on the most striking + facts in the lives of the saints. Now, it fell out that many of these had + committed acts which would be crimes in our eyes, but the Church readily + pardons such deeds when they are accomplished for the glory of God or the + good of mankind. This was a powerful argument, and the countess made the + most of it. Then, whether by reason of a tacit understanding, a thinly + veiled act of complaisance such as those who wear the ecclesiastical habit + excel in, or whether merely as the result of sheer stupidity—a + stupidity admirably adapted to further their designs—the old nun + rendered formidable aid to the conspirator. They had thought her timid; + she proved herself bold, talkative, bigoted. She was not troubled by the + ins and outs of casuistry; her doctrines were as iron bars; her faith knew + no doubt; her conscience no scruples. She looked on Abraham's sacrifice as + natural enough, for she herself would not have hesitated to kill both + father and mother if she had received a divine order to that effect; and + nothing, in her opinion, could displease our Lord, provided the motive + were praiseworthy. The countess, putting to good use the consecrated + authority of her unexpected ally, led her on to make a lengthy and + edifying paraphrase of that axiom enunciated by a certain school of + moralists: “The end justifies the means.” + </p> + <p> + “Then, sister,” she asked, “you think God accepts all + methods, and pardons the act when the motive is pure?” + </p> + <p> + “Undoubtedly, madame. An action reprehensible in itself often + derives merit from the thought which inspires it.” + </p> + <p> + And in this wise they talked on, fathoming the wishes of God, predicting + His judgments, describing Him as interested in matters which assuredly + concern Him but little. + </p> + <p> + All was said with the utmost care and discretion, but every word uttered + by the holy woman in her nun's garb weakened the indignant resistance of + the courtesan. Then the conversation drifted somewhat, and the nun began + to talk of the convents of her order, of her Superior, of herself, and of + her fragile little neighbor, Sister St. Nicephore. They had been sent for + from Havre to nurse the hundreds of soldiers who were in hospitals, + stricken with smallpox. She described these wretched invalids and their + malady. And, while they themselves were detained on their way by the + caprices of the Prussian officer, scores of Frenchmen might be dying, whom + they would otherwise have saved! For the nursing of soldiers was the old + nun's specialty; she had been in the Crimea, in Italy, in Austria; and as + she told the story of her campaigns she revealed herself as one of those + holy sisters of the fife and drum who seem designed by nature to follow + camps, to snatch the wounded from amid the strife of battle, and to quell + with a word, more effectually than any general, the rough and + insubordinate troopers—a masterful woman, her seamed and pitted face + itself an image of the devastations of war. + </p> + <p> + No one spoke when she had finished for fear of spoiling the excellent + effect of her words. + </p> + <p> + As soon as the meal was over the travellers retired to their rooms, whence + they emerged the following day at a late hour of the morning. + </p> + <p> + Luncheon passed off quietly. The seed sown the preceding evening was being + given time to germinate and bring forth fruit. + </p> + <p> + In the afternoon the countess proposed a walk; then the count, as had been + arranged beforehand, took Boule de Suif's arm, and walked with her at some + distance behind the rest. + </p> + <p> + He began talking to her in that familiar, paternal, slightly contemptuous + tone which men of his class adopt in speaking to women like her, calling + her “my dear child,” and talking down to her from the height + of his exalted social position and stainless reputation. He came straight + to the point. + </p> + <p> + “So you prefer to leave us here, exposed like yourself to all the + violence which would follow on a repulse of the Prussian troops, rather + than consent to surrender yourself, as you have done so many times in your + life?” + </p> + <p> + The girl did not reply. + </p> + <p> + He tried kindness, argument, sentiment. He still bore himself as count, + even while adopting, when desirable, an attitude of gallantry, and making + pretty—nay, even tender—speeches. He exalted the service she + would render them, spoke of their gratitude; then, suddenly, using the + familiar “thou”: + </p> + <p> + “And you know, my dear, he could boast then of having made a + conquest of a pretty girl such as he won't often find in his own country.” + </p> + <p> + Boule de Suif did not answer, and joined the rest of the party. + </p> + <p> + As soon as they returned she went to her room, and was seen no more. The + general anxiety was at its height. What would she do? If she still + resisted, how awkward for them all! + </p> + <p> + The dinner hour struck; they waited for her in vain. At last Monsieur + Follenvie entered, announcing that Mademoiselle Rousset was not well, and + that they might sit down to table. They all pricked up their ears. The + count drew near the innkeeper, and whispered: + </p> + <p> + “Is it all right?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + Out of regard for propriety he said nothing to his companions, but merely + nodded slightly toward them. A great sigh of relief went up from all + breasts; every face was lighted up with joy. + </p> + <p> + “By Gad!” shouted Loiseau, “I'll stand champagne all + round if there's any to be found in this place.” And great was + Madame Loiseau's dismay when the proprietor came back with four bottles in + his hands. They had all suddenly become talkative and merry; a lively joy + filled all hearts. The count seemed to perceive for the first time that + Madame Carre-Lamadon was charming; the manufacturer paid compliments to + the countess. The conversation was animated, sprightly, witty, and, + although many of the jokes were in the worst possible taste, all the + company were amused by them, and none offended—indignation being + dependent, like other emotions, on surroundings. And the mental atmosphere + had gradually become filled with gross imaginings and unclean thoughts. + </p> + <p> + At dessert even the women indulged in discreetly worded allusions. Their + glances were full of meaning; they had drunk much. The count, who even in + his moments of relaxation preserved a dignified demeanor, hit on a + much-appreciated comparison of the condition of things with the + termination of a winter spent in the icy solitude of the North Pole and + the joy of shipwrecked mariners who at last perceive a southward track + opening out before their eyes. + </p> + <p> + Loiseau, fairly in his element, rose to his feet, holding aloft a glass of + champagne. + </p> + <p> + “I drink to our deliverance!” he shouted. + </p> + <p> + All stood up, and greeted the toast with acclamation. Even the two good + sisters yielded to the solicitations of the ladies, and consented to + moisten their lips with the foaming wine, which they had never before + tasted. They declared it was like effervescent lemonade, but with a + pleasanter flavor. + </p> + <p> + “It is a pity,” said Loiseau, “that we have no piano; we + might have had a quadrille.” + </p> + <p> + Cornudet had not spoken a word or made a movement; he seemed plunged in + serious thought, and now and then tugged furiously at his great beard, as + if trying to add still further to its length. At last, toward midnight, + when they were about to separate, Loiseau, whose gait was far from steady, + suddenly slapped him on the back, saying thickly: + </p> + <p> + “You're not jolly to-night; why are you so silent, old man?” + </p> + <p> + Cornudet threw back his head, cast one swift and scornful glance over the + assemblage, and answered: + </p> + <p> + “I tell you all, you have done an infamous thing!” + </p> + <p> + He rose, reached the door, and repeating: “Infamous!” + disappeared. + </p> + <p> + A chill fell on all. Loiseau himself looked foolish and disconcerted for a + moment, but soon recovered his aplomb, and, writhing with laughter, + exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “Really, you are all too green for anything!” + </p> + <p> + Pressed for an explanation, he related the “mysteries of the + corridor,” whereat his listeners were hugely amused. The ladies + could hardly contain their delight. The count and Monsieur Carre-Lamadon + laughed till they cried. They could scarcely believe their ears. + </p> + <p> + “What! you are sure? He wanted——” + </p> + <p> + “I tell you I saw it with my own eyes.” + </p> + <p> + “And she refused?” + </p> + <p> + “Because the Prussian was in the next room!” + </p> + <p> + “Surely you are mistaken?” + </p> + <p> + “I swear I'm telling you the truth.” + </p> + <p> + The count was choking with laughter. The manufacturer held his sides. + Loiseau continued: + </p> + <p> + “So you may well imagine he doesn't think this evening's business at + all amusing.” + </p> + <p> + And all three began to laugh again, choking, coughing, almost ill with + merriment. + </p> + <p> + Then they separated. But Madame Loiseau, who was nothing if not spiteful, + remarked to her husband as they were on the way to bed that “that + stuck-up little minx of a Carre-Lamadon had laughed on the wrong side of + her mouth all the evening.” + </p> + <p> + “You know,” she said, “when women run after uniforms + it's all the same to them whether the men who wear them are French or + Prussian. It's perfectly sickening!” + </p> + <p> + The next morning the snow showed dazzling white tinder a clear winter sun. + The coach, ready at last, waited before the door; while a flock of white + pigeons, with pink eyes spotted in the centres with black, puffed out + their white feathers and walked sedately between the legs of the six + horses, picking at the steaming manure. + </p> + <p> + The driver, wrapped in his sheepskin coat, was smoking a pipe on the box, + and all the passengers, radiant with delight at their approaching + departure, were putting up provisions for the remainder of the journey. + </p> + <p> + They were waiting only for Boule de Suif. At last she appeared. + </p> + <p> + She seemed rather shamefaced and embarrassed, and advanced with timid step + toward her companions, who with one accord turned aside as if they had not + seen her. The count, with much dignity, took his wife by the arm, and + removed her from the unclean contact. + </p> + <p> + The girl stood still, stupefied with astonishment; then, plucking up + courage, accosted the manufacturer's wife with a humble “Good-morning, + madame,” to which the other replied merely with a slight and + insolent nod, accompanied by a look of outraged virtue. Every one suddenly + appeared extremely busy, and kept as far from Boule de Suif as if her + skirts had been infected with some deadly disease. Then they hurried to + the coach, followed by the despised courtesan, who, arriving last of all, + silently took the place she had occupied during the first part of the + journey. + </p> + <p> + The rest seemed neither to see nor to know her—all save Madame + Loiseau, who, glancing contemptuously in her direction, remarked, half + aloud, to her husband: + </p> + <p> + “What a mercy I am not sitting beside that creature!” + </p> + <p> + The lumbering vehicle started on its way, and the journey began afresh. + </p> + <p> + At first no one spoke. Boule de Suif dared not even raise her eyes. She + felt at once indignant with her neighbors, and humiliated at having + yielded to the Prussian into whose arms they had so hypocritically cast + her. + </p> + <p> + But the countess, turning toward Madame Carre-Lamadon, soon broke the + painful silence: + </p> + <p> + “I think you know Madame d'Etrelles?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; she is a friend of mine.” + </p> + <p> + “Such a charming woman!” + </p> + <p> + “Delightful! Exceptionally talented, and an artist to the finger + tips. She sings marvellously and draws to perfection.” + </p> + <p> + The manufacturer was chatting with the count, and amid the clatter of the + window-panes a word of their conversation was now and then + distinguishable: “Shares—maturity—premium—time-limit.” + </p> + <p> + Loiseau, who had abstracted from the inn the timeworn pack of cards, thick + with the grease of five years' contact with half-wiped-off tables, started + a game of bezique with his wife. + </p> + <p> + The good sisters, taking up simultaneously the long rosaries hanging from + their waists, made the sign of the cross, and began to mutter in unison + interminable prayers, their lips moving ever more and more swiftly, as if + they sought which should outdistance the other in the race of orisons; + from time to time they kissed a medal, and crossed themselves anew, then + resumed their rapid and unintelligible murmur. + </p> + <p> + Cornudet sat still, lost in thought. + </p> + <p> + Ah the end of three hours Loiseau gathered up the cards, and remarked that + he was hungry. + </p> + <p> + His wife thereupon produced a parcel tied with string, from which she + extracted a piece of cold veal. This she cut into neat, thin slices, and + both began to eat. + </p> + <p> + “We may as well do the same,” said the countess. The rest + agreed, and she unpacked the provisions which had been prepared for + herself, the count, and the Carre-Lamadons. In one of those oval dishes, + the lids of which are decorated with an earthenware hare, by way of + showing that a game pie lies within, was a succulent delicacy consisting + of the brown flesh of the game larded with streaks of bacon and flavored + with other meats chopped fine. A solid wedge of Gruyere cheese, which had + been wrapped in a newspaper, bore the imprint: “Items of News,” + on its rich, oily surface. + </p> + <p> + The two good sisters brought to light a hunk of sausage smelling strongly + of garlic; and Cornudet, plunging both hands at once into the capacious + pockets of his loose overcoat, produced from one four hard-boiled eggs and + from the other a crust of bread. He removed the shells, threw them into + the straw beneath his feet, and began to devour the eggs, letting morsels + of the bright yellow yolk fall in his mighty beard, where they looked like + stars. + </p> + <p> + Boule de Suif, in the haste and confusion of her departure, had not + thought of anything, and, stifling with rage, she watched all these people + placidly eating. At first, ill-suppressed wrath shook her whole person, + and she opened her lips to shriek the truth at them, to overwhelm them + with a volley of insults; but she could not utter a word, so choked was + she with indignation. + </p> + <p> + No one looked at her, no one thought of her. She felt herself swallowed up + in the scorn of these virtuous creatures, who had first sacrificed, then + rejected her as a thing useless and unclean. Then she remembered her big + basket full of the good things they had so greedily devoured: the two + chickens coated in jelly, the pies, the pears, the four bottles of claret; + and her fury broke forth like a cord that is overstrained, and she was on + the verge of tears. She made terrible efforts at self-control, drew + herself up, swallowed the sobs which choked her; but the tears rose + nevertheless, shone at the brink of her eyelids, and soon two heavy drops + coursed slowly down her cheeks. Others followed more quickly, like water + filtering from a rock, and fell, one after another, on her rounded bosom. + She sat upright, with a fixed expression, her face pale and rigid, hoping + desperately that no one saw her give way. + </p> + <p> + But the countess noticed that she was weeping, and with a sign drew her + husband's attention to the fact. He shrugged his shoulders, as if to say: + “Well, what of it? It's not my fault.” Madame Loiseau chuckled + triumphantly, and murmured: + </p> + <p> + “She's weeping for shame.” + </p> + <p> + The two nuns had betaken themselves once more to their prayers, first + wrapping the remainder of their sausage in paper: + </p> + <p> + Then Cornudet, who was digesting his eggs, stretched his long legs under + the opposite seat, threw himself back, folded his arms, smiled like a man + who had just thought of a good joke, and began to whistle the + Marseillaise. + </p> + <p> + The faces of his neighbors clouded; the popular air evidently did not find + favor with them; they grew nervous and irritable, and seemed ready to howl + as a dog does at the sound of a barrel-organ. Cornudet saw the discomfort + he was creating, and whistled the louder; sometimes he even hummed the + words: + </p> +<div class='pre'> + Amour sacre de la patrie, + Conduis, soutiens, nos bras vengeurs, + Liberte, liberte cherie, + Combats avec tes defenseurs! +</div> + <p> + The coach progressed more swiftly, the snow being harder now; and all the + way to Dieppe, during the long, dreary hours of the journey, first in the + gathering dusk, then in the thick darkness, raising his voice above the + rumbling of the vehicle, Cornudet continued with fierce obstinacy his + vengeful and monotonous whistling, forcing his weary and + exasperated-hearers to follow the song from end to end, to recall every + word of every line, as each was repeated over and over again with untiring + persistency. + </p> + <p> + And Boule de Suif still wept, and sometimes a sob she could not restrain + was heard in the darkness between two verses of the song. + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + TWO FRIENDS + </h2> + <p> + Besieged Paris was in the throes of famine. Even the sparrows on the roofs + and the rats in the sewers were growing scarce. People were eating + anything they could get. + </p> + <p> + As Monsieur Morissot, watchmaker by profession and idler for the nonce, + was strolling along the boulevard one bright January morning, his hands in + his trousers pockets and stomach empty, he suddenly came face to face with + an acquaintance—Monsieur Sauvage, a fishing chum. + </p> + <p> + Before the war broke out Morissot had been in the habit, every Sunday + morning, of setting forth with a bamboo rod in his hand and a tin box on + his back. He took the Argenteuil train, got out at Colombes, and walked + thence to the Ile Marante. The moment he arrived at this place of his + dreams he began fishing, and fished till nightfall. + </p> + <p> + Every Sunday he met in this very spot Monsieur Sauvage, a stout, jolly, + little man, a draper in the Rue Notre Dame de Lorette, and also an ardent + fisherman. They often spent half the day side by side, rod in hand and + feet dangling over the water, and a warm friendship had sprung up between + the two. + </p> + <p> + Some days they did not speak; at other times they chatted; but they + understood each other perfectly without the aid of words, having similar + tastes and feelings. + </p> + <p> + In the spring, about ten o'clock in the morning, when the early sun caused + a light mist to float on the water and gently warmed the backs of the two + enthusiastic anglers, Morissot would occasionally remark to his neighbor: + </p> + <p> + “My, but it's pleasant here.” + </p> + <p> + To which the other would reply: + </p> + <p> + “I can't imagine anything better!” + </p> + <p> + And these few words sufficed to make them understand and appreciate each + other. + </p> + <p> + In the autumn, toward the close of day, when the setting sun shed a + blood-red glow over the western sky, and the reflection of the crimson + clouds tinged the whole river with red, brought a glow to the faces of the + two friends, and gilded the trees, whose leaves were already turning at + the first chill touch of winter, Monsieur Sauvage would sometimes smile at + Morissot, and say: + </p> + <p> + “What a glorious spectacle!” + </p> + <p> + And Morissot would answer, without taking his eyes from his float: + </p> + <p> + “This is much better than the boulevard, isn't it?” + </p> + <p> + As soon as they recognized each other they shook hands cordially, affected + at the thought of meeting under such changed circumstances. + </p> + <p> + Monsieur Sauvage, with a sigh, murmured: + </p> + <p> + “These are sad times!” + </p> + <p> + Morissot shook his head mournfully. + </p> + <p> + “And such weather! This is the first fine day of the year.” + </p> + <p> + The sky was, in fact, of a bright, cloudless blue. + </p> + <p> + They walked along, side by side, reflective and sad. + </p> + <p> + “And to think of the fishing!” said Morissot. “What good + times we used to have!” + </p> + <p> + “When shall we be able to fish again?” asked Monsieur Sauvage. + </p> + <p> + They entered a small cafe and took an absinthe together, then resumed + their walk along the pavement. + </p> + <p> + Morissot stopped suddenly. + </p> + <p> + “Shall we have another absinthe?” he said. + </p> + <p> + “If you like,” agreed Monsieur Sauvage. + </p> + <p> + And they entered another wine shop. + </p> + <p> + They were quite unsteady when they came out, owing to the effect of the + alcohol on their empty stomachs. It was a fine, mild day, and a gentle + breeze fanned their faces. + </p> + <p> + The fresh air completed the effect of the alcohol on Monsieur Sauvage. He + stopped suddenly, saying: + </p> + <p> + “Suppose we go there?” + </p> + <p> + “Where?” + </p> + <p> + “Fishing.” + </p> + <p> + “But where?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, to the old place. The French outposts are close to Colombes. I + know Colonel Dumoulin, and we shall easily get leave to pass.” + </p> + <p> + Morissot trembled with desire. + </p> + <p> + “Very well. I agree.” + </p> + <p> + And they separated, to fetch their rods and lines. + </p> + <p> + An hour later they were walking side by side on the-highroad. Presently + they reached the villa occupied by the colonel. He smiled at their + request, and granted it. They resumed their walk, furnished with a + password. + </p> + <p> + Soon they left the outposts behind them, made their way through deserted + Colombes, and found themselves on the outskirts of the small vineyards + which border the Seine. It was about eleven o'clock. + </p> + <p> + Before them lay the village of Argenteuil, apparently lifeless. The + heights of Orgement and Sannois dominated the landscape. The great plain, + extending as far as Nanterre, was empty, quite empty-a waste of + dun-colored soil and bare cherry trees. + </p> + <p> + Monsieur Sauvage, pointing to the heights, murmured: + </p> + <p> + “The Prussians are up yonder!” + </p> + <p> + And the sight of the deserted country filled the two friends with vague + misgivings. + </p> + <p> + The Prussians! They had never seen them as yet, but they had felt their + presence in the neighborhood of Paris for months past—ruining + France, pillaging, massacring, starving them. And a kind of superstitious + terror mingled with the hatred they already felt toward this unknown, + victorious nation. + </p> + <p> + “Suppose we were to meet any of them?” said Morissot. + </p> + <p> + “We'd offer them some fish,” replied Monsieur Sauvage, with + that Parisian light-heartedness which nothing can wholly quench. + </p> + <p> + Still, they hesitated to show themselves in the open country, overawed by + the utter silence which reigned around them. + </p> + <p> + At last Monsieur Sauvage said boldly: + </p> + <p> + “Come, we'll make a start; only let us be careful!” + </p> + <p> + And they made their way through one of the vineyards, bent double, + creeping along beneath the cover afforded by the vines, with eye and ear + alert. + </p> + <p> + A strip of bare ground remained to be crossed before they could gain the + river bank. They ran across this, and, as soon as they were at the water's + edge, concealed themselves among the dry reeds. + </p> + <p> + Morissot placed his ear to the ground, to ascertain, if possible, whether + footsteps were coming their way. He heard nothing. They seemed to be + utterly alone. + </p> + <p> + Their confidence was restored, and they began to fish. + </p> + <p> + Before them the deserted Ile Marante hid them from the farther shore. The + little restaurant was closed, and looked as if it had been deserted for + years. + </p> + <p> + Monsieur Sauvage caught the first gudgeon, Monsieur Morissot the second, + and almost every moment one or other raised his line with a little, + glittering, silvery fish wriggling at the end; they were having excellent + sport. + </p> + <p> + They slipped their catch gently into a close-meshed bag lying at their + feet; they were filled with joy—the joy of once more indulging in a + pastime of which they had long been deprived. + </p> + <p> + The sun poured its rays on their backs; they no longer heard anything or + thought of anything. They ignored the rest of the world; they were + fishing. + </p> + <p> + But suddenly a rumbling sound, which seemed to come from the bowels of the + earth, shook the ground beneath them: the cannon were resuming their + thunder. + </p> + <p> + Morissot turned his head and could see toward the left, beyond the banks + of the river, the formidable outline of Mont-Valerien, from whose summit + arose a white puff of smoke. + </p> + <p> + The next instant a second puff followed the first, and in a few moments a + fresh detonation made the earth tremble. + </p> + <p> + Others followed, and minute by minute the mountain gave forth its deadly + breath and a white puff of smoke, which rose slowly into the peaceful + heaven and floated above the summit of the cliff. + </p> + <p> + Monsieur Sauvage shrugged his shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “They are at it again!” he said. + </p> + <p> + Morissot, who was anxiously watching his float bobbing up and down, was + suddenly seized with the angry impatience of a peaceful man toward the + madmen who were firing thus, and remarked indignantly: + </p> + <p> + “What fools they are to kill one another like that!” + </p> + <p> + “They're worse than animals,” replied Monsieur Sauvage. + </p> + <p> + And Morissot, who had just caught a bleak, declared: + </p> + <p> + “And to think that it will be just the same so long as there are + governments!” + </p> + <p> + “The Republic would not have declared war,” interposed + Monsieur Sauvage. + </p> + <p> + Morissot interrupted him: + </p> + <p> + “Under a king we have foreign wars; under a republic we have civil + war.” + </p> + <p> + And the two began placidly discussing political problems with the sound + common sense of peaceful, matter-of-fact citizens—agreeing on one + point: that they would never be free. And Mont-Valerien thundered + ceaselessly, demolishing the houses of the French with its cannon balls, + grinding lives of men to powder, destroying many a dream, many a cherished + hope, many a prospective happiness; ruthlessly causing endless woe and + suffering in the hearts of wives, of daughters, of mothers, in other + lands. + </p> + <p> + “Such is life!” declared Monsieur Sauvage. + </p> + <p> + “Say, rather, such is death!” replied Morissot, laughing. + </p> + <p> + But they suddenly trembled with alarm at the sound of footsteps behind + them, and, turning round, they perceived close at hand four tall, bearded + men, dressed after the manner of livery servants and wearing flat caps on + their heads. They were covering the two anglers with their rifles. + </p> + <p> + The rods slipped from their owners' grasp and floated away down the river. + </p> + <p> + In the space of a few seconds they were seized, bound, thrown into a boat, + and taken across to the Ile Marante. + </p> + <p> + And behind the house they had thought deserted were about a score of + German soldiers. + </p> + <p> + A shaggy-looking giant, who was bestriding a chair and smoking a long clay + pipe, addressed them in excellent French with the words: + </p> + <p> + “Well, gentlemen, have you had good luck with your fishing?” + </p> + <p> + Then a soldier deposited at the officer's feet the bag full of fish, which + he had taken care to bring away. The Prussian smiled. + </p> + <p> + “Not bad, I see. But we have something else to talk about. Listen to + me, and don't be alarmed: + </p> + <p> + “You must know that, in my eyes, you are two spies sent to + reconnoitre me and my movements. Naturally, I capture you and I shoot you. + You pretended to be fishing, the better to disguise your real errand. You + have fallen into my hands, and must take the consequences. Such is war. + </p> + <p> + “But as you came here through the outposts you must have a password + for your return. Tell me that password and I will let you go.” + </p> + <p> + The two friends, pale as death, stood silently side by side, a slight + fluttering of the hands alone betraying their emotion. + </p> + <p> + “No one will ever know,” continued the officer. “You + will return peacefully to your homes, and the secret will disappear with + you. If you refuse, it means death-instant death. Choose!” + </p> + <p> + They stood motionless, and did not open their lips. + </p> + <p> + The Prussian, perfectly calm, went on, with hand outstretched toward the + river: + </p> + <p> + “Just think that in five minutes you will be at the bottom of that + water. In five minutes! You have relations, I presume?” + </p> + <p> + Mont-Valerien still thundered. + </p> + <p> + The two fishermen remained silent. The German turned and gave an order in + his own language. Then he moved his chair a little way off, that he might + not be so near the prisoners, and a dozen men stepped forward, rifle in + hand, and took up a position, twenty paces off. + </p> + <p> + “I give you one minute,” said the officer; “not a second + longer.” + </p> + <p> + Then he rose quickly, went over to the two Frenchmen, took Morissot by the + arm, led him a short distance off, and said in a low voice: + </p> + <p> + “Quick! the password! Your friend will know nothing. I will pretend + to relent.” + </p> + <p> + Morissot answered not a word. + </p> + <p> + Then the Prussian took Monsieur Sauvage aside in like manner, and made him + the same proposal. + </p> + <p> + Monsieur Sauvage made no reply. + </p> + <p> + Again they stood side by side. + </p> + <p> + The officer issued his orders; the soldiers raised their rifles. + </p> + <p> + Then by chance Morissot's eyes fell on the bag full of gudgeon lying in + the grass a few feet from him. + </p> + <p> + A ray of sunlight made the still quivering fish glisten like silver. And + Morissot's heart sank. Despite his efforts at self-control his eyes filled + with tears. + </p> + <p> + “Good-by, Monsieur Sauvage,” he faltered. + </p> + <p> + “Good-by, Monsieur Morissot,” replied Sauvage. + </p> + <p> + They shook hands, trembling from head to foot with a dread beyond their + mastery. + </p> + <p> + The officer cried: + </p> + <p> + “Fire!” + </p> + <p> + The twelve shots were as one. + </p> + <p> + Monsieur Sauvage fell forward instantaneously. Morissot, being the taller, + swayed slightly and fell across his friend with face turned skyward and + blood oozing from a rent in the breast of his coat. + </p> + <p> + The German issued fresh orders. + </p> + <p> + His men dispersed, and presently returned with ropes and large stones, + which they attached to the feet of the two friends; then they carried them + to the river bank. + </p> + <p> + Mont-Valerien, its summit now enshrouded in smoke, still continued to + thunder. + </p> + <p> + Two soldiers took Morissot by the head and the feet; two others did the + same with Sauvage. The bodies, swung lustily by strong hands, were cast to + a distance, and, describing a curve, fell feet foremost into the stream. + </p> + <p> + The water splashed high, foamed, eddied, then grew calm; tiny waves lapped + the shore. + </p> + <p> + A few streaks of blood flecked the surface of the river. + </p> + <p> + The officer, calm throughout, remarked, with grim humor: + </p> + <p> + “It's the fishes' turn now!” + </p> + <p> + Then he retraced his way to the house. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly he caught sight of the net full of gudgeons, lying forgotten in + the grass. He picked it up, examined it, smiled, and called: + </p> + <p> + “Wilhelm!” + </p> + <p> + A white-aproned soldier responded to the summons, and the Prussian, + tossing him the catch of the two murdered men, said: + </p> + <p> + “Have these fish fried for me at once, while they are still alive; + they'll make a tasty dish.” + </p> + <p> + Then he resumed his pipe. + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + THE LANCER'S WIFE + </h2> + <p> + I + </p> + <p> + It was after Bourbaki's defeat in the east of France. The army, broken up, + decimated, and worn out, had been obliged to retreat into Switzerland + after that terrible campaign, and it was only its short duration that + saved a hundred and fifty thousand men from certain death. Hunger, the + terrible cold, forced marches in the snow without boots, over bad mountain + roads, had caused us 'francs-tireurs', especially, the greatest suffering, + for we were without tents, and almost without food, always in the van when + we were marching toward Belfort, and in the rear when returning by the + Jura. Of our little band that had numbered twelve hundred men on the first + of January, there remained only twenty-two pale, thin, ragged wretches, + when we at length succeeded in reaching Swiss territory. + </p> + <p> + There we were safe, and could rest. Everybody knows what sympathy was + shown to the unfortunate French army, and how well it was cared for. We + all gained fresh life, and those who had been rich and happy before the + war declared that they had never experienced a greater feeling of comfort + than they did then. Just think. We actually had something to eat every + day, and could sleep every night. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile, the war continued in the east of France, which had been + excluded from the armistice. Besancon still kept the enemy in check, and + the latter had their revenge by ravaging Franche Comte. Sometimes we heard + that they had approached quite close to the frontier, and we saw Swiss + troops, who were to form a line of observation between us and them, set + out on their march. + </p> + <p> + That pained us in the end, and, as we regained health and strength, the + longing to fight took possession of us. It was disgraceful and irritating + to know that within two or three leagues of us the Germans were victorious + and insolent, to feel that we were protected by our captivity, and to feel + that on that account we were powerless against them. + </p> + <p> + One day our captain took five or six of us aside, and spoke to us about + it, long and furiously. He was a fine fellow, that captain. He had been a + sublieutenant in the Zouaves, was tall and thin and as hard as steel, and + during the whole campaign he had cut out their work for the Germans. He + fretted in inactivity, and could not accustom himself to the idea of being + a prisoner and of doing nothing. + </p> + <p> + “Confound it!” he said to us, “does it not pain you to + know that there is a number of uhlans within two hours of us? Does it not + almost drive you mad to know that those beggarly wretches are walking + about as masters in our mountains, when six determined men might kill a + whole spitful any day? I cannot endure it any longer, and I must go there.” + </p> + <p> + “But how can you manage it, captain?” + </p> + <p> + “How? It is not very difficult! Just as if we had not done a thing + or two within the last six months, and got out of woods that were guarded + by very different men from the Swiss. The day that you wish to cross over + into France, I will undertake to get you there.” + </p> + <p> + “That may be; but what shall we do in France without any arms?” + </p> + <p> + “Without arms? We will get them over yonder, by Jove!” + </p> + <p> + “You are forgetting the treaty,” another soldier said; “we + shall run the risk of doing the Swiss an injury, if Manteuffel learns that + they have allowed prisoners to return to France.” + </p> + <p> + “Come,” said the captain, “those are all bad reasons. I + mean to go and kill some Prussians; that is all I care about. If you do + not wish to do as I do, well and good; only say so at once. I can quite + well go by myself; I do not require anybody's company.” + </p> + <p> + Naturally we all protested, and, as it was quite impossible to make the + captain alter his mind, we felt obliged to promise to go with him. We + liked him too much to leave him in the lurch, as he never failed us in any + extremity; and so the expedition was decided on. + </p> + <p> + II + </p> + <p> + The captain had a plan of his own, that he had been cogitating over for + some time. A man in that part of the country whom he knew was going to + lend him a cart and six suits of peasants' clothes. We could hide under + some straw at the bottom of the wagon, which would be loaded with Gruyere + cheese, which he was supposed to be going to sell in France. The captain + told the sentinels that he was taking two friends with him to protect his + goods, in case any one should try to rob him, which did not seem an + extraordinary precaution. A Swiss officer seemed to look at the wagon in a + knowing manner, but that was in order to impress his soldiers. In a word, + neither officers nor men could make it out. + </p> + <p> + “Get up,” the captain said to the horses, as he cracked his + whip, while our three men quietly smoked their pipes. I was half + suffocated in my box, which only admitted the air through those holes in + front, and at the same time I was nearly frozen, for it was terribly cold. + </p> + <p> + “Get up,” the captain said again, and the wagon loaded with + Gruyere cheese entered France. + </p> + <p> + The Prussian lines were very badly guarded, as the enemy trusted to the + watchfulness of the Swiss. The sergeant spoke North German, while our + captain spoke the bad German of the Four Cantons, and so they could not + understand each other. The sergeant, however, pretended to be very + intelligent; and, in order to make us believe that he understood us, they + allowed us to continue our journey; and, after travelling for seven hours, + being continually stopped in the same manner, we arrived at a small + village of the Jura in ruins, at nightfall. + </p> + <p> + What were we going to do? Our only arms were the captain's whip, our + uniforms our peasants' blouses, and our food the Gruyere cheese. Our sole + wealth consisted in our ammunition, packages of cartridges which we had + stowed away inside some of the large cheeses. We had about a thousand of + them, just two hundred each, but we needed rifles, and they must be + chassepots. Luckily, however, the captain was a bold man of an inventive + mind, and this was the plan that he hit upon: + </p> + <p> + While three of us remained hidden in a cellar in the abandoned village, he + continued his journey as far as Besancon with the empty wagon and one man. + The town was invested, but one can always make one's way into a town among + the hills by crossing the tableland till within about ten miles of the + walls, and then following paths and ravines on foot. They left their wagon + at Omans, among the Germans, and escaped out of it at night on foot; so as + to gain the heights which border the River Doubs; the next day they + entered Besancon, where there were plenty of chassepots. There were nearly + forty thousand of them left in the arsenal, and General Roland, a brave + marine, laughed at the captain's daring project, but let him have six + rifles and wished him “good luck.” There he had also found his + wife, who had been through all the war with us before the campaign in the + East, and who had been only prevented by illness from continuing with + Bourbaki's army. She had recovered, however, in spite of the cold, which + was growing more and more intense, and in spite of the numberless + privations that awaited her, she persisted in accompanying her husband. He + was obliged to give way to her, and they all three, the captain, his wife, + and our comrade, started on their expedition. + </p> + <p> + Going was nothing in comparison to returning. They were obliged to travel + by night, so as to avoid meeting anybody, as the possession of six rifles + would have made them liable to suspicion. But, in spite of everything, a + week after leaving us, the captain and his two men were back with us + again. The campaign was about to begin. + </p> + <p> + III + </p> + <p> + The first night of his arrival he began it himself, and, under pretext of + examining the surrounding country, he went along the high road. + </p> + <p> + I must tell you that the little village which served as our fortress was a + small collection of poor, badly built houses, which had been deserted long + before. It lay on a steep slope, which terminated in a wooded plain. The + country people sell the wood; they send it down the slopes, which are + called coulees, locally, and which lead down to the plain, and there they + stack it into piles, which they sell thrice a year to the wood merchants. + The spot where this market is held in indicated by two small houses by the + side of the highroad, which serve for public houses. The captain had gone + down there by way of one of these coulees. + </p> + <p> + He had been gone about half an hour, and we were on the lookout at the top + of the ravine, when we heard a shot. The captain had ordered us not to + stir, and only to come to him when we heard him blow his trumpet. It was + made of a goat's horn, and could be heard a league off; but it gave no + sound, and, in spite of our cruel anxiety, we were obliged to wait in + silence, with our rifles by our side. + </p> + <p> + It is nothing to go down these coulees; one just lets one's self slide + down; but it is more difficult to get up again; one has to scramble up by + catching hold of the hanging branches of the trees, and sometimes on all + fours, by sheer strength. A whole mortal hour passed, and he did not come; + nothing moved in the brushwood. The captain's wife began to grow + impatient. What could he be doing? Why did he not call us? Did the shot + that we had heard proceed from an enemy, and had he killed or wounded our + leader, her husband? They did not know what to think, but I myself fancied + either that he was dead or that his enterprise was successful; and I was + merely anxious and curious to know what he had done. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly we heard the sound of his trumpet, and we were much surprised + that instead of coming from below, as we had expected, it came from the + village behind us. What did that mean? It was a mystery to us, but the + same idea struck us all, that he had been killed, and that the Prussians + were blowing the trumpet to draw us into an ambush. We therefore returned + to the cottage, keeping a careful lookout with our fingers on the trigger, + and hiding under the branches; but his wife, in spite of our entreaties, + rushed on, leaping like a tigress. She thought that she had to avenge her + husband, and had fixed the bayonet to her rifle, and we lost sight of her + at the moment that we heard the trumpet again; and, a few moments later, + we heard her calling out to us: + </p> + <p> + “Come on! come on! He is alive! It is he!” + </p> + <p> + We hastened on, and saw the captain smoking his pipe at the entrance of + the village, but strangely enough, he was on horseback. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! ah!” he said to us, “you see that there is + something to be done here. Here I am on horseback already; I knocked over + an uhlan yonder, and took his horse; I suppose they were guarding the + wood, but it was by drinking and swilling in clover. One of them, the + sentry at the door, had not time to see me before I gave him a sugarplum + in his stomach, and then, before the others could come out, I jumped on + the horse and was off like a shot. Eight or ten of them followed me, I + think; but I took the crossroads through the woods. I have got scratched + and torn a bit, but here I am, and now, my good fellows, attention, and + take care! Those brigands will not rest until they have caught us, and we + must receive them with rifle bullets. Come along; let us take up our + posts!” + </p> + <p> + We set out. One of us took up his position a good way from the village on + the crossroads; I was posted at the entrance of the main street, where the + road from the level country enters the village, while the two others, the + captain and his wife, were in the middle of the village, near the church, + whose tower served for an observatory and citadel. + </p> + <p> + We had not been in our places long before we heard a shot, followed by + another, and then two, then three. The first was evidently a chassepot + —one recognized it by the sharp report, which sounds like the crack + of a whip—while the other three came from the lancers' carbines. + </p> + <p> + The captain was furious. He had given orders to the outpost to let the + enemy pass and merely to follow them at a distance if they marched toward + the village, and to join me when they had gone well between the houses. + Then they were to appear suddenly, take the patrol between two fires, and + not allow a single man to escape; for, posted as we were, the six of us + could have hemmed in ten Prussians, if needful. + </p> + <p> + “That confounded Piedelot has roused them,” the captain said, + “and they will not venture to come on blindfolded any longer. And + then I am quite sure that he has managed to get a shot into himself + somewhere or other, for we hear nothing of him. It serves him right; why + did he not obey orders?” And then, after a moment, he grumbled in + his beard: “After all I am sorry for the poor fellow; he is so + brave, and shoots so well!” + </p> + <p> + The captain was right in his conjectures. We waited until evening, without + seeing the uhlans; they had retreated after the first attack; but + unfortunately we had not seen Piedelot, either. Was he dead or a prisoner? + When night came, the captain proposed that we should go out and look for + him, and so the three of us started. At the crossroads we found a broken + rifle and some blood, while the ground was trampled down; but we did not + find either a wounded man or a dead body, although we searched every + thicket, and at midnight we returned without having discovered anything of + our unfortunate comrade. + </p> + <p> + “It is very strange,” the captain growled. “They must + have killed him and thrown him into the bushes somewhere; they cannot + possibly have taken him prisoner, as he would have called out for help. I + cannot understand it at all.” Just as he said that, bright flames + shot up in the direction of the inn on the high road, which illuminated + the sky. + </p> + <p> + “Scoundrels! cowards!” he shouted. “I will bet that they + have set fire to the two houses on the marketplace, in order to have their + revenge, and then they will scuttle off without saying a word. They will + be satisfied with having killed a man and set fire to two houses. All + right. It shall not pass over like that. We must go for them; they will + not like to leave their illuminations in order to fight.” + </p> + <p> + “It would be a great stroke of luck if we could set Piedelot free at + the same time,” some one said. + </p> + <p> + The five of us set off, full of rage and hope. In twenty minutes we had + got to the bottom of the coulee, and had not yet seen any one when we were + within a hundred yards of the inn. The fire was behind the house, and all + we saw of it was the reflection above the roof. However, we were walking + rather slowly, as we were afraid of an ambush, when suddenly we heard + Piedelot's well-known voice. It had a strange sound, however; for it was + at the same time—dull and vibrating, stifled and clear, as if he + were calling out as loud as he could with a bit of rag stuffed into his + mouth. He seemed to be hoarse and gasping, and the unlucky fellow kept + exclaiming: “Help! Help!” + </p> + <p> + We sent all thoughts of prudence to the devil, and in two bounds we were + at the back of the inn, where a terrible sight met our eyes. + </p> + <p> + IV + </p> + <p> + Piedelot was being burned alive. He was writhing in the midst of a heap of + fagots, tied to a stake, and the flames were licking him with their + burning tongues. When he saw us, his tongue seemed to stick in his throat; + he drooped his head, and seemed as if he were going to die. It was only + the affair of a moment to upset the burning pile, to scatter the embers, + and to cut the ropes that fastened him. + </p> + <p> + Poor fellow! In what a terrible state we found him. The evening before he + had had his left arm broken, and it seemed as if he had been badly beaten + since then, for his whole body was covered with wounds, bruises and blood. + The flames had also begun their work on him, and he had two large burns, + one on his loins and the other on his right thigh, and his beard and hair + were scorched. Poor Piedelot! + </p> + <p> + No one knows the terrible rage we felt at this sight! We would have rushed + headlong at a hundred thousand Prussians; our thirst for vengeance was + intense. But the cowards had run away, leaving their crime behind them. + Where could we find them now? Meanwhile, however, the captain's wife was + looking after Piedelot, and dressing his wounds as best she could, while + the captain himself shook hands with him excitedly, and in a few minutes + he came to himself. + </p> + <p> + “Good-morning, captain; good-morning, all of you,” he said. + “Ah! the scoundrels, the wretches! Why, twenty of them came to + surprise us.” + </p> + <p> + “Twenty, do you say?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; there was a whole band of them, and that is why I disobeyed + orders, captain, and fired on them, for they would have killed you all, + and I preferred to stop them. That frightened them, and they did not + venture to go farther than the crossroads. They were such cowards. Four of + them shot at me at twenty yards, as if I had been a target, and then they + slashed me with their swords. My arm was broken, so that I could only use + my bayonet with one hand.” + </p> + <p> + “But why did you not call for help?” + </p> + <p> + “I took good care not to do that, for you would all have come; and + you would neither have been able to defend me nor yourselves, being only + five against twenty.” + </p> + <p> + “You know that we should not have allowed you to have been taken, + poor old fellow.” + </p> + <p> + “I preferred to die by myself, don't you see! I did not want to + bring you here, for it would have been a mere ambush.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, we will not talk about it any more. Do you feel rather + easier?” + </p> + <p> + “No, I am suffocating. I know that I cannot live much longer. The + brutes! They tied me to a tree, and beat me till I was half dead, and then + they shook my broken arm; but I did not make a sound. I would rather have + bitten my tongue out than have called out before them. Now I can tell what + I am suffering and shed tears; it does one good. Thank you, my kind + friends.” + </p> + <p> + “Poor Piedelot! But we will avenge you, you may be sure!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes; I want you to do that. There is, in particular, a woman + among them who passes as the wife of the lancer whom the captain killed + yesterday. She is dressed like a lancer, and she tortured me the most + yesterday, and suggested burning me; and it was she who set fire to the + wood. Oh! the wretch, the brute! Ah! how I am suffering! My loins, my + arms!” and he fell back gasping and exhausted, writhing in his + terrible agony, while the captain's wife wiped the perspiration from his + forehead, and we all shed tears of grief and rage, as if we had been + children. I will not describe the end to you; he died half an hour later, + previously telling us in what direction the enemy had gone. When he was + dead we gave ourselves time to bury him, and then we set out in pursuit of + them, with our hearts full of fury and hatred. + </p> + <p> + “We will throw ourselves on the whole Prussian army, if it be + necessary,” the captain said; “but we will avenge Piedelot. We + must catch those scoundrels. Let us swear to die, rather than not to find + them; and if I am killed first, these are my orders: All the prisoners + that you take are to be shot immediately, and as for the lancer's wife, + she is to be tortured before she is put to death.” + </p> + <p> + “She must not be shot, because she is a woman,” the captain's + wife said. “If you survive, I am sure that you would not shoot a + woman. Torturing her will be quite sufficient; but if you are killed in + this pursuit, I want one thing, and that is to fight with her; I will kill + her with my own hands, and the others can do what they like with her if + she kills me.” + </p> + <p> + “We will outrage her! We will burn her! We will tear her to pieces! + Piedelot shall be avenged! + </p> + <p> + “An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth!” + </p> + <p> + V + </p> + <p> + The next morning we unexpectedly fell on an outpost of uhlans four leagues + away. Surprised by our sudden attack, they were not able to mount their + horses, nor even to defend themselves; and in a few moments we had five + prisoner, corresponding to our own number. The captain questioned them, + and from their answers we felt certain that they were the same whom we had + encountered the previous day. Then a very curious operation took place. + One of us was told off to ascertain their sex, and nothing can describe + our joy when we discovered what we were seeking among them, the female + executioner who had tortured our friend. + </p> + <p> + The four others were shot on the spot, with their backs to us and close to + the muzzles of our rifles; and then we turned our attention to the woman. + What were we going to do with her? I must acknowledge that we were all of + us in favor of shooting her. Hatred, and the wish to avenge Piedelot, had + extinguished all pity in us, and we had forgotten that we were going to + shoot a woman, but a woman reminded us of it, the captain's wife; at her + entreaties, therefore, we determined to keep her a prisoner. + </p> + <p> + The captain's poor wife was to be severely punished for this act of + clemency. + </p> + <p> + The next day we heard that the armistice had been extended to the eastern + part of France, and we had to put an end to our little campaign. Two of + us, who belonged to the neighborhood, returned home, so there were only + four of us, all told: the captain, his wife, and two men. We belonged to + Besancon, which was still being besieged in spite of the armistice. + </p> + <p> + “Let us stop here,” said the captain. “I cannot believe + that the war is going to end like this. The devil take it! Surely there + are men still left in France; and now is the time to prove what they are + made of. The spring is coming on, and the armistice is only a trap laid + for the Prussians. During the time that it lasts, a new army will be + raised, and some fine morning we shall fall upon them again. We shall be + ready, and we have a hostage—let us remain here.” + </p> + <p> + We fixed our quarters there. It was terribly cold, and we did not go out + much, and somebody had always to keep the female prisoner in sight. + </p> + <p> + She was sullen, and never said anything, or else spoke of her husband, + whom the captain had killed. She looked at him continually with fierce + eyes, and we felt that she was tortured by a wild longing for revenge. + That seemed to us to be the most suitable punishment for the terrible + torments that she had made Piedelot suffer, for impotent vengeance is such + intense pain! + </p> + <p> + Alas! we who knew how to avenge our comrade ought to have thought that + this woman would know how to avenge her husband, and have been on our + guard. It is true that one of us kept watch every night, and that at first + we tied her by a long rope to the great oak bench that was fastened to the + wall. But, by and by, as she had never tried to escape, in spite of her + hatred for us, we relaxed our extreme prudence, and allowed her to sleep + somewhere else except on the bench, and without being tied. What had we to + fear? She was at the end of the room, a man was on guard at the door, and + between her and the sentinel the captain's wife and two other men used to + lie. She was alone and unarmed against four, so there could be no danger. + </p> + <p> + One night when we were asleep, and the captain was on guard, the lancer's + wife was lying more quietly in her corner than usual, and she had even + smiled for the first time since she had been our prisoner during the + evening. Suddenly, however, in the middle of the night, we were all + awakened by a terrible cry. We got up, groping about, and at once stumbled + over a furious couple who were rolling about and fighting on the ground. + It was the captain and the lancer's wife. We threw ourselves on them, and + separated them in a moment. She was shouting and laughing, and he seemed + to have the death rattle. All this took place in the dark. Two of us held + her, and when a light was struck a terrible sight met our eyes. The + captain was lying on the floor in a pool of blood, with an enormous gash + in his throat, and his sword bayonet, that had been taken from his rifle, + was sticking in the red, gaping wound. A few minutes afterward he died, + without having been able to utter a word. + </p> + <p> + His wife did not shed a tear. Her eyes were dry, her throat was + contracted, and she looked at the lancer's wife steadfastly, and with a + calm ferocity that inspired fear. + </p> + <p> + “This woman belongs to me,” she said to us suddenly. “You + swore to me not a week ago to let me kill her as I chose, if she killed my + husband; and you must keep your oath. You must fasten her securely to the + fireplace, upright against the back of it, and then you can go where you + like, but far from here. I will take my revenge on her myself. Leave the + captain's body, and we three, he, she and I, will remain here.” + </p> + <p> + We obeyed, and went away. She promised to write to us to Geneva, as we + were returning thither. + </p> + <p> + VI + </p> + <p> + Two days later I received the following letter, dated the day after we had + left, that had been written at an inn on the high road: + </p> + <p> + “MY FRIEND: I am writing to you, according to my promise. For the + moment I am at the inn, where I have just handed my prisoner over to a + Prussian officer. + </p> + <p> + “I must tell you, my friend, that this poor woman has left two + children in Germany. She had followed her husband, whom she adored, as she + did not wish him to be exposed to the risks of war by himself, and as her + children were with their grandparents. I have learned all this since + yesterday, and it has turned my ideas of vengeance into more humane + feelings. At the very moment when I felt pleasure in insulting this woman, + and in threatening her with the most fearful torments, in recalling + Piedelot, who had been burned alive, and in threatening her with a similar + death, she looked at me coldly, and said: + </p> + <p> + “'What have you got to reproach me with, Frenchwoman? You think that + you will do right in avenging your husband's death, is not that so?' + </p> + <p> + “'Yes,' I replied. + </p> + <p> + “'Very well, then; in killing him, I did what you are going to do in + burning me. I avenged my husband, for your husband killed him.' + </p> + <p> + “'Well,' I replied, 'as you approve of this vengeance, prepare to + endure it.' + </p> + <p> + “'I do not fear it.' + </p> + <p> + “And in fact she did not seem to have lost courage. Her face was + calm, and she looked at me without trembling, while I brought wood and + dried leaves together, and feverishly threw on to them the powder from + some cartridges, which was to make her funeral pile the more cruel. + </p> + <p> + “I hesitated in my thoughts of persecution for a moment. But the + captain was there, pale and covered with blood, and he seemed to be + looking at me with his large, glassy eyes, and I applied myself to my work + again after kissing his pale lips. Suddenly, however, on raising my head, + I saw that she was crying, and I felt rather surprised. + </p> + <p> + “'So you are frightened?' I said to her. + </p> + <p> + “'No, but when I saw you kiss your husband, I thought of mine, of + all whom I love.' + </p> + <p> + “She continued to sob, but stopping suddenly, she said to me in + broken words and in a low voice: + </p> + <p> + “'Have you any children?' + </p> + <p> + “A shiver rare over me, for I guessed that this poor woman had some. + She asked me to look in a pocketbook which was in her bosom, and in it I + saw two photographs of quite young children, a boy and a girl, with those + kind, gentle, chubby faces that German children have. In it there were + also two locks of light hair and a letter in a large, childish hand, and + beginning with German words which meant: + </p> + <p> + “'My dear little mother. + </p> + <p> + “'I could not restrain my tears, my dear friend, and so I untied + her, and without venturing to look at the face of my poor dead husband, + who was not to be avenged, I went with her as far as the inn. She is free; + I have just left her, and she kissed me with tears. I am going upstairs to + my husband; come as soon as possible, my dear friend, to look for our two + bodies.'” + </p> + <p> + I set off with all speed, and when I arrived there was a Prussian patrol + at the cottage; and when I asked what it all meant, I was told that there + was a captain of francs-tireurs and his wife inside, both dead. I gave + their names; they saw that I knew them, and I begged to be allowed to + arrange their funeral. + </p> + <p> + “Somebody has already undertaken it,” was the reply. “Go + in if you wish to, as you know them. You can settle about their funeral + with their friend.” + </p> + <p> + I went in. The captain and his wife were lying side by side on a bed, and + were covered by a sheet. I raised it, and saw that the woman had inflicted + a similar wound in her throat to that from which her husband had died. + </p> + <p> + At the side of the bed there sat, watching and weeping, the woman who had + been mentioned to me as their best friend. It was the lancer's wife. + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + THE PRISONERS + </h2> + <p> + There was not a sound in the forest save the indistinct, fluttering sound + of the snow falling on the trees. It had been snowing since noon; a little + fine snow, that covered the branches as with frozen moss, and spread a + silvery covering over the dead leaves in the ditches, and covered the + roads with a white, yielding carpet, and made still more intense the + boundless silence of this ocean of trees. + </p> + <p> + Before the door of the forester's dwelling a young woman, her arms bare to + the elbow, was chopping wood with a hatchet on a block of stone. She was + tall, slender, strong-a true girl of the woods, daughter and wife of a + forester. + </p> + <p> + A voice called from within the house: + </p> + <p> + “We are alone to-night, Berthine; you must come in. It is getting + dark, and there may be Prussians or wolves about.” + </p> + <p> + “I've just finished, mother,” replied the young woman, + splitting as she spoke an immense log of wood with strong, deft blows, + which expanded her chest each time she raised her arms to strike. “Here + I am; there's no need to be afraid; it's quite light still.” + </p> + <p> + Then she gathered up her sticks and logs, piled them in the chimney + corner, went back to close the great oaken shutters, and finally came in, + drawing behind her the heavy bolts of the door. + </p> + <p> + Her mother, a wrinkled old woman whom age had rendered timid, was spinning + by the fireside. + </p> + <p> + “I am uneasy,” she said, “when your father's not here. + Two women are not much good.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” said the younger woman, “I'd cheerfully kill a + wolf or a Prussian if it came to that.” + </p> + <p> + And she glanced at a heavy revolver hanging above the hearth. + </p> + <p> + Her husband had been called upon to serve in the army at the beginning of + the Prussian invasion, and the two women had remained alone with the old + father, a keeper named Nicolas Pichon, sometimes called Long-legs, who + refused obstinately to leave his home and take refuge in the town. + </p> + <p> + This town was Rethel, an ancient stronghold built on a rock. Its + inhabitants were patriotic, and had made up their minds to resist the + invaders, to fortify their native place, and, if need be, to stand a siege + as in the good old days. Twice already, under Henri IV and under Louis + XIV, the people of Rethel had distinguished themselves by their heroic + defence of their town. They would do as much now, by gad! or else be + slaughtered within their own walls. + </p> + <p> + They had, therefore, bought cannon and rifles, organized a militia, and + formed themselves into battalions and companies, and now spent their time + drilling all day long in the square. All-bakers, grocers, butchers, + lawyers, carpenters, booksellers, chemists-took their turn at military + training at regular hours of the day, under the auspices of Monsieur + Lavigne, a former noncommissioned officer in the dragoons, now a draper, + having married the daughter and inherited the business of Monsieur + Ravaudan, Senior. + </p> + <p> + He had taken the rank of commanding officer in Rethel, and, seeing that + all the young men had gone off to the war, he had enlisted all the others + who were in favor of resisting an attack. Fat men now invariably walked + the streets at a rapid pace, to reduce their weight and improve their + breathing, and weak men carried weights to strengthen their muscles. + </p> + <p> + And they awaited the Prussians. But the Prussians did not appear. They + were not far off, however, for twice already their scouts had penetrated + as far as the forest dwelling of Nicolas Pichon, called Long-legs. + </p> + <p> + The old keeper, who could run like a fox, had come and warned the town. + The guns had been got ready, but the enemy had not shown themselves. + </p> + <p> + Long-legs' dwelling served as an outpost in the Aveline forest. Twice a + week the old man went to the town for provisions and brought the citizens + news of the outlying district. + </p> + <p> + On this particular day he had gone to announce the fact that a small + detachment of German infantry had halted at his house the day before, + about two o'clock in the afternoon, and had left again almost immediately. + The noncommissioned officer in charge spoke French. + </p> + <p> + When the old man set out like this he took with him his dogs—two + powerful animals with the jaws of lions-as a safeguard against the wolves, + which were beginning to get fierce, and he left directions with the two + women to barricade themselves securely within their dwelling as soon as + night fell. + </p> + <p> + The younger feared nothing, but her mother was always apprehensive, and + repeated continually: + </p> + <p> + “We'll come to grief one of these days. You see if we don't!” + </p> + <p> + This evening she was, if possible, more nervous than ever. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know what time your father will be back?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, not before eleven, for certain. When he dines with the + commandant he's always late.” + </p> + <p> + And Berthine was hanging her pot over the fire to warm the soup when she + suddenly stood still, listening attentively to a sound that had reached + her through the chimney. + </p> + <p> + “There are people walking in the wood,” she said; “seven + or eight men at least.” + </p> + <p> + The terrified old woman stopped her spinning wheel, and gasped: + </p> + <p> + “Oh, my God! And your father not here!” + </p> + <p> + She had scarcely finished speaking when a succession of violent blows + shook the door. + </p> + <p> + As the woman made no reply, a loud, guttural voice shouted: + </p> + <p> + “Open the door!” + </p> + <p> + After a brief silence the same voice repeated: + </p> + <p> + “Open the door or I'll break it down!” + </p> + <p> + Berthine took the heavy revolver from its hook, slipped it into the pocket + of her skirt, and, putting her ear to the door, asked: + </p> + <p> + “Who are you?” demanded the young woman. “What do you + want?”. + </p> + <p> + “The detachment that came here the other day,” replied the + voice. + </p> + <p> + “My men and I have lost our way in the forest since morning. Open + the door or I'll break it down!” + </p> + <p> + The forester's daughter had no choice; she shot back the heavy bolts, + threw open the ponderous shutter, and perceived in the wan light of the + snow six men, six Prussian soldiers, the same who had visited the house + the day before. + </p> + <p> + “What are you doing here at this time of night?” she asked + dauntlessly. + </p> + <p> + “I lost my bearings,” replied the officer; “lost them + completely. Then I recognized this house. I've eaten nothing since + morning, nor my men either.” + </p> + <p> + “But I'm quite alone with my mother this evening,” said + Berthine. + </p> + <p> + “Never mind,” replied the soldier, who seemed a decent sort of + fellow. “We won't do you any harm, but you must give us something to + eat. We are nearly dead with hunger and fatigue.” + </p> + <p> + Then the girl moved aside. + </p> + <p> + “Come in;” she said. + </p> + <p> + Then entered, covered with snow, their helmets sprinkled with a + creamy-looking froth, which gave them the appearance of meringues. They + seemed utterly worn out. + </p> + <p> + The young woman pointed to the wooden benches on either side of the large + table. + </p> + <p> + “Sit down,” she said, “and I'll make you some soup. You + certainly look tired out, and no mistake.” + </p> + <p> + Then she bolted the door afresh. + </p> + <p> + She put more water in the pot, added butter and potatoes; then, taking + down a piece of bacon from a hook in the chimney earner, cut it in two and + slipped half of it into the pot. + </p> + <p> + The six men watched her movements with hungry eyes. They had placed their + rifles and helmets in a corner and waited for supper, as well behaved as + children on a school bench. + </p> + <p> + The old mother had resumed her spinning, casting from time to time a + furtive and uneasy glance at the soldiers. Nothing was to be heard save + the humming of the wheel, the crackling of the fire, and the singing of + the water in the pot. + </p> + <p> + But suddenly a strange noise—a sound like the harsh breathing of + some wild animal sniffing under the door-startled the occupants of the + room. + </p> + <p> + The German officer sprang toward the rifles. Berthine stopped him with a + gesture, and said, smilingly: + </p> + <p> + “It's only the wolves. They are like you—prowling hungry + through the forest.” + </p> + <p> + The incredulous man wanted to see with his own eyes, and as soon as the + door was opened he perceived two large grayish animals disappearing with + long, swinging trot into the darkness. + </p> + <p> + He returned to his seat, muttering: + </p> + <p> + “I wouldn't have believed it!” + </p> + <p> + And he waited quietly till supper was ready. + </p> + <p> + The men devoured their meal voraciously, with mouths stretched to their + ears that they might swallow the more. Their round eyes opened at the same + time as their jaws, and as the soup coursed down their throats it made a + noise like the gurgling of water in a rainpipe. + </p> + <p> + The two women watched in silence the movements of the big red beards. The + potatoes seemed to be engulfed in these moving fleeces. + </p> + <p> + But, as they were thirsty, the forester's daughter went down to the cellar + to draw them some cider. She was gone some time. The cellar was small, + with an arched ceiling, and had served, so people said, both as prison and + as hiding-place during the Revolution. It was approached by means of a + narrow, winding staircase, closed by a trap-door at the farther end of the + kitchen. + </p> + <p> + When Berthine returned she was smiling mysteriously to herself. She gave + the Germans her jug of cider. + </p> + <p> + Then she and her mother supped apart, at the other end of the kitchen. + </p> + <p> + The soldiers had finished eating, and were all six falling asleep as they + sat round the table. Every now and then a forehead fell with a thud on the + board, and the man, awakened suddenly, sat upright again. + </p> + <p> + Berthine said to the officer: + </p> + <p> + “Go and lie down, all of you, round the fire. There's lots of room + for six. I'm going up to my room with my mother.” + </p> + <p> + And the two women went upstairs. They could be heard locking the door and + walking about overhead for a time; then they were silent. + </p> + <p> + The Prussians lay down on the floor, with their feet to the fire and their + heads resting on their rolled-up cloaks. Soon all six snored loudly and + uninterruptedly in six different keys. + </p> + <p> + They had been sleeping for some time when a shot rang out so loudly that + it seemed directed against the very walls of the house. The soldiers rose + hastily. Two-then three-more shots were fired. + </p> + <p> + The door opened hastily, and Berthine appeared, barefooted and only half + dressed, with her candle in her hand and a scared look on her face. + </p> + <p> + “There are the French,” she stammered; “at least two + hundred of them. If they find you here they'll burn the house down. For + God's sake, hurry down into the cellar, and don't make a sound, whatever + you do. If you make any noise we are lost.” + </p> + <p> + “We'll go, we'll go,” replied the terrified officer. “Which + is the way?” + </p> + <p> + The young woman hurriedly raised the small, square trap-door, and the six + men disappeared one after another down the narrow, winding staircase, + feeling their way as they went. + </p> + <p> + But as soon as the spike of the last helmet was out of sight Berthine + lowered the heavy oaken lid—thick as a wall, hard as steel, + furnished with the hinges and bolts of a prison cell—shot the two + heavy bolts, and began to laugh long and silently, possessed with a mad + longing to dance above the heads of her prisoners. + </p> + <p> + They made no sound, inclosed in the cellar as in a strong-box, obtaining + air only from a small, iron-barred vent-hole. + </p> + <p> + Berthine lighted her fire again, hung the pot over it, and prepared more + soup, saying to herself: + </p> + <p> + “Father will be tired to-night.” + </p> + <p> + Then she sat and waited. The heavy pendulum of the clock swung to and fro + with a monotonous tick. + </p> + <p> + Every now and then the young woman cast an impatient glance at the dial-a + glance which seemed to say: + </p> + <p> + “I wish he'd be quick!” + </p> + <p> + But soon there was a sound of voices beneath her feet. Low, confused words + reached her through the masonry which roofed the cellar. The Prussians + were beginning to suspect the trick she had played them, and presently the + officer came up the narrow staircase, and knocked at the trap-door. + </p> + <p> + “Open the door!” he cried. + </p> + <p> + “What do you want?” she said, rising from her seat and + approaching the cellarway. + </p> + <p> + “Open the door!” + </p> + <p> + “I won't do any such thing!” + </p> + <p> + “Open it or I'll break it down!” shouted the man angrily. + </p> + <p> + She laughed. + </p> + <p> + “Hammer away, my good man! Hammer away!” + </p> + <p> + He struck with the butt-end of his gun at the closed oaken door. But it + would have resisted a battering-ram. + </p> + <p> + The forester's daughter heard him go down the stairs again. Then the + soldiers came one after another and tried their strength against the + trapdoor. But, finding their efforts useless, they all returned to the + cellar and began to talk among themselves. + </p> + <p> + The young woman heard them for a short time, then she rose, opened the + door of the house; looked out into the night, and listened. + </p> + <p> + A sound of distant barking reached her ear. She whistled just as a + huntsman would, and almost immediately two great dogs emerged from the + darkness, and bounded to her side. She held them tight, and shouted at the + top of her voice: + </p> + <p> + “Hullo, father!” + </p> + <p> + A far-off voice replied: + </p> + <p> + “Hullo, Berthine!” + </p> + <p> + She waited a few seconds, then repeated: + </p> + <p> + “Hullo, father!” + </p> + <p> + The voice, nearer now, replied: + </p> + <p> + “Hullo, Berthine!” + </p> + <p> + “Don't go in front of the vent-hole!” shouted his daughter. + “There are Prussians in the cellar!” + </p> + <p> + Suddenly the man's tall figure could be seen to the left, standing between + two tree trunks. + </p> + <p> + “Prussians in the cellar?” he asked anxiously. “What are + they doing?” + </p> + <p> + The young woman laughed. + </p> + <p> + “They are the same as were here yesterday. They lost their way, and + I've given them free lodgings in the cellar.” + </p> + <p> + She told the story of how she had alarmed them by firing the revolver, and + had shut them up in the cellar. + </p> + <p> + The man, still serious, asked: + </p> + <p> + “But what am I to do with them at this time of night?” + </p> + <p> + “Go and fetch Monsieur Lavigne with his men,” she replied. + “He'll take them prisoners. He'll be delighted.” + </p> + <p> + Her father smiled. + </p> + <p> + “So he will-delighted.” + </p> + <p> + “Here's some soup for you,” said his daughter. “Eat it + quick, and then be off.” + </p> + <p> + The old keeper sat down at the table, and began to eat his soup, having + first filled two plates and put them on the floor for the dogs. + </p> + <p> + The Prussians, hearing voices, were silent. + </p> + <p> + Long-legs set off a quarter of an hour later, and Berthine, with her head + between her hands, waited. + </p> + <p> + The prisoners began to make themselves heard again. They shouted, called, + and beat furiously with the butts of their muskets against the rigid + trap-door of the cellar. + </p> + <p> + Then they fired shots through the vent-hole, hoping, no doubt, to be heard + by any German detachment which chanced to be passing that way. + </p> + <p> + The forester's daughter did not stir, but the noise irritated and unnerved + her. Blind anger rose in her heart against the prisoners; she would have + been only too glad to kill them all, and so silence them. + </p> + <p> + Then, as her impatience grew, she watched the clock, counting the minutes + as they passed. + </p> + <p> + Her father had been gone an hour and a half. He must have reached the town + by now. She conjured up a vision of him telling the story to Monsieur + Lavigne, who grew pale with emotion, and rang for his servant to bring him + his arms and uniform. She fancied she could bear the drum as it sounded + the call to arms. Frightened faces appeared at the windows. The + citizen-soldiers emerged from their houses half dressed, out of breath, + buckling on their belts, and hurrying to the commandant's house. + </p> + <p> + Then the troop of soldiers, with Long-legs at its head, set forth through + the night and the snow toward the forest. + </p> + <p> + She looked at the clock. “They may be here in an hour.” + </p> + <p> + A nervous impatience possessed her. The minutes seemed interminable. Would + the time never come? + </p> + <p> + At last the clock marked the moment she had fixed on for their arrival. + And she opened the door to listen for their approach. She perceived a + shadowy form creeping toward the house. She was afraid, and cried out. But + it was her father. + </p> + <p> + “They have sent me,” he said, “to see if there is any + change in the state of affairs.” + </p> + <p> + “No-none.” + </p> + <p> + Then he gave a shrill whistle. Soon a dark mass loomed up under the trees; + the advance guard, composed of ten men. + </p> + <p> + “Don't go in front of the vent-hole!” repeated Long-legs at + intervals. + </p> + <p> + And the first arrivals pointed out the much-dreaded vent-hole to those who + came after. + </p> + <p> + At last the main body of the troop arrived, in all two hundred men, each + carrying two hundred cartridges. + </p> + <p> + Monsieur Lavigne, in a state of intense excitement, posted them in such a + fashion as to surround the whole house, save for a large space left vacant + in front of the little hole on a level with the ground, through which the + cellar derived its supply of air. + </p> + <p> + Monsieur Lavigne struck the trap-door a blow with his foot, and called: + </p> + <p> + “I wish to speak to the Prussian officer!” + </p> + <p> + The German did not reply. + </p> + <p> + “The Prussian officer!” again shouted the commandant. + </p> + <p> + Still no response. For the space of twenty minutes Monsieur Lavigne called + on this silent officer to surrender with bag and baggage, promising him + that all lives should be spared, and that he and his men should be + accorded military honors. But he could extort no sign, either of consent + or of defiance. The situation became a puzzling one. + </p> + <p> + The citizen-soldiers kicked their heels in the snow, slapping their arms + across their chest, as cabdrivers do, to warm themselves, and gazing at + the vent-hole with a growing and childish desire to pass in front of it. + </p> + <p> + At last one of them took the risk-a man named Potdevin, who was fleet of + limb. He ran like a deer across the zone of danger. The experiment + succeeded. The prisoners gave no sign of life. + </p> + <p> + A voice cried: + </p> + <p> + “There's no one there!” + </p> + <p> + And another soldier crossed the open space before the dangerous vent-hole. + Then this hazardous sport developed into a game. Every minute a man ran + swiftly from one side to the other, like a boy playing baseball, kicking + up the snow behind him as he ran. They had lighted big fires of dead wood + at which to warm themselves, and the figures of the runners were illumined + by the flames as they passed rapidly from the camp on the right to that on + the left. + </p> + <p> + Some one shouted: + </p> + <p> + “It's your turn now, Maloison.” + </p> + <p> + Maloison was a fat baker, whose corpulent person served to point many a + joke among his comrades. + </p> + <p> + He hesitated. They chaffed him. Then, nerving himself to the effort, he + set off at a little, waddling gait, which shook his fat paunch and made + the whole detachment laugh till they cried. + </p> + <p> + “Bravo, bravo, Maloison!” they shouted for his encouragement. + </p> + <p> + He had accomplished about two-thirds of his journey when a long, crimson + flame shot forth from the vent-hole. A loud report followed, and the fat + baker fell face forward to the ground, uttering a frightful scream. No one + went to his assistance. Then he was seen to drag himself, groaning, on + all-fours through the snow until he was beyond danger, when he fainted. + </p> + <p> + He was shot in the upper part of the thigh. + </p> + <p> + After the first surprise and fright were over they laughed at him again. + But Monsieur Lavigne appeared on the threshold of the forester's dwelling. + He had formed his plan of attack. He called in a loud voice “I want + Planchut, the plumber, and his workmen.” + </p> + <p> + Three men approached. + </p> + <p> + “Take the eavestroughs from the roof.” + </p> + <p> + In a quarter of an hour they brought the commandant thirty yards of pipes. + </p> + <p> + Next, with infinite precaution, he had a small round hole drilled in the + trap-door; then, making a conduit with the troughs from the pump to this + opening, he said, with an air of extreme satisfaction: + </p> + <p> + “Now we'll give these German gentlemen something to drink.” + </p> + <p> + A shout of frenzied admiration, mingled with uproarious laughter, burst + from his followers. And the commandant organized relays of men, who were + to relieve one another every five minutes. Then he commanded: + </p> + <p> + “Pump!!!” + </p> + <p> + And, the pump handle having been set in motion, a stream of water trickled + throughout the length of the piping, and flowed from step to step down the + cellar stairs with a gentle, gurgling sound. + </p> + <p> + They waited. + </p> + <p> + An hour passed, then two, then three. The commandant, in a state of + feverish agitation, walked up and down the kitchen, putting his ear to the + ground every now and then to discover, if possible, what the enemy were + doing and whether they would soon capitulate. + </p> + <p> + The enemy was astir now. They could be heard moving the casks about, + talking, splashing through the water. + </p> + <p> + Then, about eight o'clock in the morning, a voice came from the vent-hole + “I want to speak to the French officer.” + </p> + <p> + Lavigne replied from the window, taking care not to put his head out too + far: + </p> + <p> + “Do you surrender?” + </p> + <p> + “I surrender.” + </p> + <p> + “Then put your rifles outside.” + </p> + <p> + A rifle immediately protruded from the hole, and fell into the snow, then + another and another, until all were disposed of. And the voice which had + spoken before said: + </p> + <p> + “I have no more. Be quick! I am drowned.” + </p> + <p> + “Stop pumping!” ordered the commandant. + </p> + <p> + And the pump handle hung motionless. + </p> + <p> + Then, having filled the kitchen with armed and waiting soldiers, he slowly + raised the oaken trapdoor. + </p> + <p> + Four heads appeared, soaking wet, four fair heads with long, sandy hair, + and one after another the six Germans emerged—scared, shivering and + dripping from head to foot. + </p> + <p> + They were seized and bound. Then, as the French feared a surprise, they + set off at once in two convoys, one in charge of the prisoners, and the + other conducting Maloison on a mattress borne on poles. + </p> + <p> + They made a triumphal entry into Rethel. + </p> + <p> + Monsieur Lavigne was decorated as a reward for having captured a Prussian + advance guard, and the fat baker received the military medal for wounds + received at the hands of the enemy. + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + TWO LITTLE SOLDIERS + </h2> + <p> + Every Sunday, as soon as they were free, the little soldiers would go for + a walk. They turned to the right on leaving the barracks, crossed + Courbevoie with rapid strides, as though on a forced march; then, as the + houses grew scarcer, they slowed down and followed the dusty road which + leads to Bezons. + </p> + <p> + They were small and thin, lost in their ill-fitting capes, too large and + too long, whose sleeves covered their hands; their ample red trousers fell + in folds around their ankles. Under the high, stiff shako one could just + barely perceive two thin, hollow-cheeked Breton faces, with their calm, + naive blue eyes. They never spoke during their journey, going straight + before them, the same idea in each one's mind taking the place of + conversation. For at the entrance of the little forest of Champioux they + had found a spot which reminded them of home, and they did not feel happy + anywhere else. + </p> + <p> + At the crossing of the Colombes and Chatou roads, when they arrived under + the trees, they would take off their heavy, oppressive headgear and wipe + their foreheads. + </p> + <p> + They always stopped for a while on the bridge at Bezons, and looked at the + Seine. They stood there several minutes, bending over the railing, + watching the white sails, which perhaps reminded them of their home, and + of the fishing smacks leaving for the open. + </p> + <p> + As soon as they had crossed the Seine, they would purchase provisions at + the delicatessen, the baker's, and the wine merchant's. A piece of + bologna, four cents' worth of bread, and a quart of wine, made up the + luncheon which they carried away, wrapped up in their handkerchiefs. But + as soon as they were out of the village their gait would slacken and they + would begin to talk. + </p> + <p> + Before them was a plain with a few clumps of trees, which led to the + woods, a little forest which seemed to remind them of that other forest at + Kermarivan. The wheat and oat fields bordered on the narrow path, and Jean + Kerderen said each time to Luc Le Ganidec: + </p> + <p> + “It's just like home, just like Plounivon.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it's just like home.” + </p> + <p> + And they went on, side by side, their minds full of dim memories of home. + They saw the fields, the hedges, the forests, and beaches. + </p> + <p> + Each time they stopped near a large stone on the edge of the private + estate, because it reminded them of the dolmen of Locneuven. + </p> + <p> + As soon as they reached the first clump of trees, Luc Le Ganidec would cut + off a small stick, and, whittling it slowly, would walk on, thinking of + the folks at home. + </p> + <p> + Jean Kerderen carried the provisions. + </p> + <p> + From time to time Luc would mention a name, or allude to some boyish prank + which would give them food for plenty of thought. And the home country, so + dear and so distant, would little by little gain possession of their + minds, sending them back through space, to the well-known forms and + noises, to the familiar scenery, with the fragrance of its green fields + and sea air. They no longer noticed the smells of the city. And in their + dreams they saw their friends leaving, perhaps forever, for the dangerous + fishing grounds. + </p> + <p> + They were walking slowly, Luc Le Ganidec and Jean Kerderen, contented and + sad, haunted by a sweet sorrow, the slow and penetrating sorrow of a + captive animal which remembers the days of its freedom. + </p> + <p> + And when Luc had finished whittling his stick, they came to a little nook, + where every Sunday they took their meal. They found the two bricks, which + they had hidden in a hedge, and they made a little fire of dry branches + and roasted their sausages on the ends of their knives. + </p> + <p> + When their last crumb of bread had been eaten and the last drop of wine + had been drunk, they stretched themselves out on the grass side by side, + without speaking, their half-closed eyes looking away in the distance, + their hands clasped as in prayer, their red-trousered legs mingling with + the bright colors of the wild flowers. + </p> + <p> + Towards noon they glanced, from time to time, towards the village of + Bezons, for the dairy maid would soon be coming. Every Sunday she would + pass in front of them on the way to milk her cow, the only cow in the + neighborhood which was sent out to pasture. + </p> + <p> + Soon they would see the girl, coming through the fields, and it pleased + them to watch the sparkling sunbeams reflected from her shining pail. They + never spoke of her. They were just glad to see her, without understanding + why. + </p> + <p> + She was a tall, strapping girl, freckled and tanned by the open air—a + girl typical of the Parisian suburbs. + </p> + <p> + Once, on noticing that they were always sitting in the same place, she + said to them: + </p> + <p> + “Do you always come here?” + </p> + <p> + Luc Le Ganidec, more daring than his friend, stammered: + </p> + <p> + “Yes, we come here for our rest.” + </p> + <p> + That was all. But the following Sunday, on seeing them, she smiled with + the kindly smile of a woman who understood their shyness, and she asked: + </p> + <p> + “What are you doing here? Are you watching the grass grow?” + </p> + <p> + Luc, cheered up, smiled: “P'raps.” + </p> + <p> + She continued: “It's not growing fast, is it?” + </p> + <p> + He answered, still laughing: “Not exactly.” + </p> + <p> + She went on. But when she came back with her pail full of milk, she + stopped before them and said: + </p> + <p> + “Want some? It will remind you of home.” + </p> + <p> + She had, perhaps instinctively, guessed and touched the right spot. + </p> + <p> + Both were moved. Then not without difficulty, she poured some milk into + the bottle in which they had brought their wine. Luc started to drink, + carefully watching lest he should take more than his share. Then he passed + the bottle to Jean. She stood before them, her hands on her hips, her pail + at her feet, enjoying the pleasure that she was giving them. Then she went + on, saying: “Well, bye-bye until next Sunday!” + </p> + <p> + For a long time they watched her tall form as it receded in the distance, + blending with the background, and finally disappeared. + </p> + <p> + The following week as they left the barracks, Jean said to Luc: + </p> + <p> + “Don't you think we ought to buy her something good?” + </p> + <p> + They were sorely perplexed by the problem of choosing something to bring + to the dairy maid. Luc was in favor of bringing her some chitterlings; but + Jean, who had a sweet tooth, thought that candy would be the best thing. + He won, and so they went to a grocery to buy two sous' worth, of red and + white candies. + </p> + <p> + This time they ate more quickly than usual, excited by anticipation. + </p> + <p> + Jean was the first one to notice her. “There she is,” he said; + and Luc answered: “Yes, there she is.” + </p> + <p> + She smiled when she saw them, and cried: + </p> + <p> + “Well, how are you to-day?” + </p> + <p> + They both answered together: + </p> + <p> + “All right! How's everything with you?” + </p> + <p> + Then she started to talk of simple things which might interest them; of + the weather, of the crops, of her masters. + </p> + <p> + They didn't dare to offer their candies, which were slowly melting in + Jean's pocket. Finally Luc, growing bolder, murmured: + </p> + <p> + “We have brought you something.” + </p> + <p> + She asked: “Let's see it.” + </p> + <p> + Then Jean, blushing to the tips of his ears, reached in his pocket, and + drawing out the little paper bag, handed it to her. + </p> + <p> + She began to eat the little sweet dainties. The two soldiers sat in front + of her, moved and delighted. + </p> + <p> + At last she went to do her milking, and when she came back she again gave + them some milk. + </p> + <p> + They thought of her all through the week and often spoke of her: The + following Sunday she sat beside them for a longer time. + </p> + <p> + The three of them sat there, side by side, their eyes looking far away in + the distance, their hands clasped over their knees, and they told each + other little incidents and little details of the villages where they were + born, while the cow, waiting to be milked, stretched her heavy head toward + the girl and mooed. + </p> + <p> + Soon the girl consented to eat with them and to take a sip of wine. Often + she brought them plums pocket for plums were now ripe. Her presence + enlivened the little Breton soldiers, who chattered away like two birds. + </p> + <p> + One Tuesday something unusual happened to Luc Le Ganidec; he asked for + leave and did not return until ten o'clock at night. + </p> + <p> + Jean, worried and racked his brain to account for his friend's having + obtained leave. + </p> + <p> + The following Friday, Luc borrowed ten sons from one of his friends, and + once more asked and obtained leave for several hours. + </p> + <p> + When he started out with Jean on Sunday he seemed queer, disturbed, + changed. Kerderen did not understand; he vaguely suspected something, but + he could not guess what it might be. + </p> + <p> + They went straight to the usual place, and lunched slowly. Neither was + hungry. + </p> + <p> + Soon the girl appeared. They watched her approach as they always did. When + she was near, Luc arose and went towards her. She placed her pail on the + ground and kissed him. She kissed him passionately, throwing her arms + around his neck, without paying attention to Jean, without even noticing + that he was there. + </p> + <p> + Poor Jean was dazed, so dazed that he could not understand. His mind was + upset and his heart broken, without his even realizing why. + </p> + <p> + Then the girl sat down beside Luc, and they started to chat. + </p> + <p> + Jean was not looking at them. He understood now why his friend had gone + out twice during the week. He felt the pain and the sting which treachery + and deceit leave in their wake. + </p> + <p> + Luc and the girl went together to attend to the cow. + </p> + <p> + Jean followed them with his eyes. He saw them disappear side by side, the + red trousers of his friend making a scarlet spot against the white road. + It was Luc who sank the stake to which the cow was tethered. The girl + stooped down to milk the cow, while he absent-mindedly stroked the + animal's glossy neck. Then they left the pail in the grass and disappeared + in the woods. + </p> + <p> + Jean could no longer see anything but the wall of leaves through which + they had passed. He was unmanned so that he did not have strength to + stand. He stayed there, motionless, bewildered and grieving-simple, + passionate grief. He wanted to weep, to run away, to hide somewhere, never + to see anyone again. + </p> + <p> + Then he saw them coming back again. They were walking slowly, hand in + hand, as village lovers do. Luc was carrying the pail. + </p> + <p> + After kissing him again, the girl went on, nodding carelessly to Jean. She + did not offer him any milk that day. + </p> + <p> + The two little soldiers sat side by side, motionless as always, silent and + quiet, their calm faces in no way betraying the trouble in their hearts. + The sun shone down on them. From time to time they could hear the + plaintive lowing of the cow. At the usual time they arose to return. + </p> + <p> + Luc was whittling a stick. Jean carried the empty bottle. He left it at + the wine merchant's in Bezons. Then they stopped on the bridge, as they + did every Sunday, and watched the water flowing by. + </p> + <p> + Jean leaned over the railing, farther and farther, as though he had seen + something in the stream which hypnotized him. Luc said to him: + </p> + <p> + “What's the matter? Do you want a drink?” + </p> + <p> + He had hardly said the last word when Jean's head carried away the rest of + his body, and the little blue and red soldier fell like a shot and + disappeared in the water. + </p> + <p> + Luc, paralyzed with horror, tried vainly to shout for help. In the + distance he saw something move; then his friend's head bobbed up out of + the water only to disappear again. + </p> + <p> + Farther down he again noticed a hand, just one hand, which appeared and + again went out of sight. That was all. + </p> + <p> + The boatmen who had rushed to the scene found the body that day. + </p> + <p> + Luc ran back to the barracks, crazed, and with eyes and voice full of + tears, he related the accident: “He leaned—he—he was + leaning —so far over—that his head carried him away—and—he—fell + —he fell——” + </p> + <p> + Emotion choked him so that he could say no more. If he had only known. + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + FATHER MILON + </h2> + <p> + For a month the hot sun has been parching the fields. Nature is expanding + beneath its rays; the fields are green as far as the eye can see. The big + azure dome of the sky is unclouded. The farms of Normandy, scattered over + the plains and surrounded by a belt of tall beeches, look, from a + distance, like little woods. On closer view, after lowering the worm-eaten + wooden bars, you imagine yourself in an immense garden, for all the + ancient apple-trees, as gnarled as the peasants themselves, are in bloom. + The sweet scent of their blossoms mingles with the heavy smell of the + earth and the penetrating odor of the stables. It is noon. The family is + eating under the shade of a pear tree planted in front of the door; + father, mother, the four children, and the help—two women and three + men are all there. All are silent. The soup is eaten and then a dish of + potatoes fried with bacon is brought on. + </p> + <p> + From time to time one of the women gets up and takes a pitcher down to the + cellar to fetch more cider. + </p> + <p> + The man, a big fellow about forty years old, is watching a grape vine, + still bare, which is winding and twisting like a snake along the side of + the house. + </p> + <p> + At last he says: “Father's vine is budding early this year. Perhaps + we may get something from it.” + </p> + <p> + The woman then turns round and looks, without saying a word. + </p> + <p> + This vine is planted on the spot where their father had been shot. + </p> + <p> + It was during the war of 1870. The Prussians were occupying the whole + country. General Faidherbe, with the Northern Division of the army, was + opposing them. + </p> + <p> + The Prussians had established their headquarters at this farm. The old + farmer to whom it belonged, Father Pierre Milon, had received and + quartered them to the best of his ability. + </p> + <p> + For a month the German vanguard had been in this village. The French + remained motionless, ten leagues away; and yet, every night, some of the + Uhlans disappeared. + </p> + <p> + Of all the isolated scouts, of all those who were sent to the outposts, in + groups of not more than three, not one ever returned. + </p> + <p> + They were picked up the next morning in a field or in a ditch. Even their + horses were found along the roads with their throats cut. + </p> + <p> + These murders seemed to be done by the same men, who could never be found. + </p> + <p> + The country was terrorized. Farmers were shot on suspicion, women were + imprisoned; children were frightened in order to try and obtain + information. Nothing could be ascertained. + </p> + <p> + But, one morning, Father Milon was found stretched out in the barn, with a + sword gash across his face. + </p> + <p> + Two Uhlans were found dead about a mile and a half from the farm. One of + them was still holding his bloody sword in his hand. He had fought, tried + to defend himself. A court-martial was immediately held in the open air, + in front of the farm. The old man was brought before it. + </p> + <p> + He was sixty-eight years old, small, thin, bent, with two big hands + resembling the claws of a crab. His colorless hair was sparse and thin, + like the down of a young duck, allowing patches of his scalp to be seen. + The brown and wrinkled skin of his neck showed big veins which disappeared + behind his jaws and came out again at the temples. He had the reputation + of being miserly and hard to deal with. + </p> + <p> + They stood him up between four soldiers, in front of the kitchen table, + which had been dragged outside. Five officers and the colonel seated + themselves opposite him. + </p> + <p> + The colonel spoke in French: + </p> + <p> + “Father Milon, since we have been here we have only had praise for + you. You have always been obliging and even attentive to us. But to-day a + terrible accusation is hanging over you, and you must clear the matter up. + How did you receive that wound on your face?” + </p> + <p> + The peasant answered nothing. + </p> + <p> + The colonel continued: + </p> + <p> + “Your silence accuses you, Father Milon. But I want you to answer + me! Do you understand? Do you know who killed the two Uhlans who were + found this morning near Calvaire?” + </p> + <p> + The old man answered clearly + </p> + <p> + “I did.” + </p> + <p> + The colonel, surprised, was silent for a minute, looking straight at the + prisoner. Father Milon stood impassive, with the stupid look of the + peasant, his eyes lowered as though he were talking to the priest. Just + one thing betrayed an uneasy mind; he was continually swallowing his + saliva, with a visible effort, as though his throat were terribly + contracted. + </p> + <p> + The man's family, his son Jean, his daughter-in-law and his two + grandchildren were standing a few feet behind him, bewildered and + affrighted. + </p> + <p> + The colonel went on: + </p> + <p> + “Do you also know who killed all the scouts who have been found + dead, for a month, throughout the country, every morning?” + </p> + <p> + The old man answered with the same stupid look: + </p> + <p> + “I did.” + </p> + <p> + “You killed them all?” + </p> + <p> + “Uh huh! I did.” + </p> + <p> + “You alone? All alone?” + </p> + <p> + “Uh huh!” + </p> + <p> + “Tell me how you did it.” + </p> + <p> + This time the man seemed moved; the necessity for talking any length of + time annoyed him visibly. He stammered: + </p> + <p> + “I dunno! I simply did it.” + </p> + <p> + The colonel continued: + </p> + <p> + “I warn you that you will have to tell me everything. You might as + well make up your mind right away. How did you begin?” + </p> + <p> + The man cast a troubled look toward his family, standing close behind him. + He hesitated a minute longer, and then suddenly made up his mind to obey + the order. + </p> + <p> + “I was coming home one night at about ten o'clock, the night after + you got here. You and your soldiers had taken more than fifty ecus worth + of forage from me, as well as a cow and two sheep. I said to myself: 'As + much as they take from you; just so much will you make them pay back.' And + then I had other things on my mind which I will tell you. Just then I + noticed one of your soldiers who was smoking his pipe by the ditch behind + the barn. I went and got my scythe and crept up slowly behind him, so that + he couldn't hear me. And I cut his head off with one single blow, just as + I would a blade of grass, before he could say 'Booh!' If you should look + at the bottom of the pond, you will find him tied up in a potato-sack, + with a stone fastened to it. + </p> + <p> + “I got an idea. I took all his clothes, from his boots to his cap, + and hid them away in the little wood behind the yard.” + </p> + <p> + The old man stopped. The officers remained speechless, looking at each + other. The questioning began again, and this is what they learned. + </p> + <p> + Once this murder committed, the man had lived with this one thought: + “Kill the Prussians!” He hated them with the blind, fierce + hate of the greedy yet patriotic peasant. He had his idea, as he said. He + waited several days. + </p> + <p> + He was allowed to go and come as he pleased, because he had shown himself + so humble, submissive and obliging to the invaders. Each night he saw the + outposts leave. One night he followed them, having heard the name of the + village to which the men were going, and having learned the few words of + German which he needed for his plan through associating with the soldiers. + </p> + <p> + He left through the back yard, slipped into the woods, found the dead + man's clothes and put them on. Then he began to crawl through the fields, + following along the hedges in order to keep out of sight, listening to the + slightest noises, as wary as a poacher. + </p> + <p> + As soon as he thought the time ripe, he approached the road and hid behind + a bush. He waited for a while. Finally, toward midnight, he heard the + sound of a galloping horse. The man put his ear to the ground in order to + make sure that only one horseman was approaching, then he got ready. + </p> + <p> + An Uhlan came galloping along, carrying dispatches. As he went, he was + all eyes and ears. When he was only a few feet away, Father Milon dragged + himself across the road, moaning: “Hilfe! Hilfe!” ( Help! + Help!) The horseman stopped, and recognizing a German, he thought he was + wounded and dismounted, coming nearer without any suspicion, and just as + he was leaning over the unknown man, he received, in the pit of his + stomach, a heavy thrust from the long curved blade of the sabre. He + dropped without suffering pain, quivering only in the final throes. Then + the farmer, radiant with the silent joy of an old peasant, got up again, + and, for his own pleasure, cut the dead man's throat. He then dragged the + body to the ditch and threw it in. + </p> + <p> + The horse quietly awaited its master. Father Milon mounted him and started + galloping across the plains. + </p> + <p> + About an hour later he noticed two more Uhlans who were returning home, + side by side. He rode straight for them, once more crying “Hilfe! + Hilfe!” + </p> + <p> + The Prussians, recognizing the uniform, let him approach without distrust. + The old man passed between them like a cannon-ball, felling them both, one + with his sabre and the other with a revolver. + </p> + <p> + Then he killed the horses, German horses! After that he quickly returned + to the woods and hid one of the horses. He left his uniform there and + again put on his old clothes; then going back into bed, he slept until + morning. + </p> + <p> + For four days he did not go out, waiting for the inquest to be terminated; + but on the fifth day he went out again and killed two more soldiers by the + same stratagem. From that time on he did not stop. Each night he wandered + about in search of adventure, killing Prussians, sometimes here and + sometimes there, galloping through deserted fields, in the moonlight, a + lost Uhlan, a hunter of men. Then, his task accomplished, leaving behind + him the bodies lying along the roads, the old farmer would return and hide + his horse and uniform. + </p> + <p> + He went, toward noon, to carry oats and water quietly to his mount, and he + fed it well as he required from it a great amount of work. + </p> + <p> + But one of those whom he had attacked the night before, in defending + himself slashed the old peasant across the face with his sabre. + </p> + <p> + However, he had killed them both. He had come back and hidden the horse + and put on his ordinary clothes again; but as he reached home he began to + feel faint, and had dragged himself as far as the stable, being unable to + reach the house. + </p> + <p> + They had found him there, bleeding, on the straw. + </p> + <p> + When he had finished his tale, he suddenly lifted up his head and looked + proudly at the Prussian officers. + </p> + <p> + The colonel, who was gnawing at his mustache, asked: + </p> + <p> + “You have nothing else to say?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing more; I have finished my task; I killed sixteen, not one + more or less.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you know that you are going to die?” + </p> + <p> + “I haven't asked for mercy.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you been a soldier?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I served my time. And then, you had killed my father, who was + a soldier of the first Emperor. And last month you killed my youngest son, + Francois, near Evreux. I owed you one for that; I paid. We are quits.” + </p> + <p> + The officers were looking at each other. + </p> + <p> + The old man continued: + </p> + <p> + “Eight for my father, eight for the boy—we are quits. I did + not seek any quarrel with you. I don't know you. I don't even know where + you come from. And here you are, ordering me about in my home as though it + were your own. I took my revenge upon the others. I'm not sorry.” + </p> + <p> + And, straightening up his bent back, the old man folded his arms in the + attitude of a modest hero. + </p> + <p> + The Prussians talked in a low tone for a long time. One of them, a + captain, who had also lost his son the previous month, was defending the + poor wretch. Then the colonel arose and, approaching Father Milon, said in + a low voice: + </p> + <p> + “Listen, old man, there is perhaps a way of saving your life, it is + to—” + </p> + <p> + But the man was not listening, and, his eyes fixed on the hated officer, + while the wind played with the downy hair on his head, he distorted his + slashed face, giving it a truly terrible expression, and, swelling out his + chest, he spat, as hard as he could, right in the Prussian's face. + </p> + <p> + The colonel, furious, raised his hand, and for the second time the man + spat in his face. + </p> + <p> + All the officers had jumped up and were shrieking orders at the same time. + </p> + <p> + In less than a minute the old man, still impassive, was pushed up against + the wall and shot, looking smilingly the while toward Jean, his eldest + son, his daughter-in-law and his two grandchildren, who witnessed this + scene in dumb terror. + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + A COUP D'ETAT + </h2> + <p> + Paris had just heard of the disaster at Sedan. A republic had been + declared. All France was wavering on the brink of this madness which + lasted until after the Commune. From one end of the country to the other + everybody was playing soldier. + </p> + <p> + Cap-makers became colonels, fulfilling the duties of generals; revolvers + and swords were displayed around big, peaceful stomachs wrapped in flaming + red belts; little tradesmen became warriors commanding battalions of + brawling volunteers, and swearing like pirates in order to give themselves + some prestige. + </p> + <p> + The sole fact of handling firearms crazed these people, who up to that + time had only handled scales, and made them, without any reason, dangerous + to all. Innocent people were shot to prove that they knew how to kill; in + forests which had never seen a Prussian, stray dogs, grazing cows and + browsing horses were killed. + </p> + <p> + Each one thought himself called upon to play a great part in military + affairs. The cafes of the smallest villages, full of uniformed tradesmen, + looked like barracks or hospitals. + </p> + <p> + The town of Canneville was still in ignorance of the maddening news from + the army and the capital; nevertheless, great excitement had prevailed for + the last month, the opposing parties finding themselves face to face. + </p> + <p> + The mayor, Viscount de Varnetot, a thin, little old man, a conservative, + who had recently, from ambition, gone over to the Empire, had seen a + determined opponent arise in Dr. Massarel, a big, full-blooded man, leader + of the Republican party of the neighborhood, a high official in the local + masonic lodge, president of the Agricultural Society and of the firemen's + banquet and the organizer of the rural militia which was to save the + country. + </p> + <p> + In two weeks, he had managed to gather together sixty-three volunteers, + fathers of families, prudent farmers and town merchants, and every morning + he would drill them in the square in front of the town-hall. + </p> + <p> + When, perchance, the mayor would come to the municipal building, Commander + Massarel, girt with pistols, would pass proudly in front of his troop, his + sword in his hand, and make all of them cry: “Long live the + Fatherland!” And it had been noticed that this cry excited the + little viscount, who probably saw in it a menace, a threat, as well as the + odious memory of the great Revolution. + </p> + <p> + On the morning of the fifth of September, the doctor, in full uniform, his + revolver on the table, was giving a consultation to an old couple, a + farmer who had been suffering from varicose veins for the last seven years + and had waited until his wife had them also, before he would consult the + doctor, when the postman brought in the paper. + </p> + <p> + M. Massarel opened it, grew pale, suddenly rose, and lifting his hands to + heaven in a gesture of exaltation, began to shout at the top of his voice + before the two frightened country folks: + </p> + <p> + “Long live the Republic! long live the Republic! long live the + Republic!” + </p> + <p> + Then he fell back in his chair, weak from emotion. + </p> + <p> + And as the peasant resumed: “It started with the ants, which began + to run up and down my legs—-” Dr. Massarel exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “Shut up! I haven't got time to bother with your nonsense. The + Republic has been proclaimed, the emperor has been taken prisoner, France + is saved! Long live the Republic!” + </p> + <p> + Running to the door, he howled: + </p> + <p> + “Celeste, quick, Celeste!” + </p> + <p> + The servant, affrighted, hastened in; he was trying to talk so rapidly, + that he could only stammer: + </p> + <p> + “My boots, my sword, my cartridge-box and the Spanish dagger which + is on my night-table! Hasten!” + </p> + <p> + As the persistent peasant, taking advantage of a moment's silence, + continued, “I seemed to get big lumps which hurt me when I walk,” + the physician, exasperated, roared: + </p> + <p> + “Shut up and get out! If you had washed your feet it would not have + happened!” + </p> + <p> + Then, grabbing him by the collar, he yelled at him: + </p> + <p> + “Can't you understand that we are a republic, you brass-plated + idiot!” + </p> + <p> + But professional sentiment soon calmed him, and he pushed the bewildered + couple out, saying: + </p> + <p> + “Come back to-morrow, come back to-morrow, my friends. I haven't any + time to-day.” + </p> + <p> + As he equipped himself from head to foot, he gave a series of important + orders to his servant: + </p> + <p> + “Run over to Lieutenant Picart and to Second Lieutenant Pommel, and + tell them that I am expecting them here immediately. Also send me + Torchebeuf with his drum. Quick! quick!” + </p> + <p> + When Celeste had gone out, he sat down and thought over the situation and + the difficulties which he would have to surmount. + </p> + <p> + The three men arrived together in their working clothes. The commandant, + who expected to see them in uniform, felt a little shocked. + </p> + <p> + “Don't you people know anything? The emperor has been taken + prisoner, the Republic has been proclaimed. We must act. My position is + delicate, I might even say dangerous.” + </p> + <p> + He reflected for a few moments before his bewildered subordinates, then he + continued: + </p> + <p> + “We must act and not hesitate; minutes count as hours in times like + these. All depends on the promptness of our decision. You, Picart, go to + the cure and order him to ring the alarm-bell, in order to get together + the people, to whom I am going to announce the news. You, Torchebeuf beat + the tattoo throughout the whole neighborhood as far as the hamlets of + Gerisaie and Salmare, in order to assemble the militia in the public + square. You, Pommel, get your uniform on quickly, just the coat and cap. + We are going to the town-hall to demand Monsieur de Varnetot to surrender + his powers to me. Do you understand?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Now carry out those orders quickly. I will go over to your house + with you, Pommel, since we shall act together.” + </p> + <p> + Five minutes later, the commandant and his subordinates, armed to the + teeth, appeared on the square, just as the little Viscount de Varnetot, + his legs encased in gaiters as for a hunting party, his gun on his + shoulder, was coming down the other street at double-quick time, followed + by his three green-coated guards, their swords at their sides and their + guns swung over their shoulders. + </p> + <p> + While the doctor stopped, bewildered, the four men entered the town-hall + and closed the door behind them. + </p> + <p> + “They have outstripped us,” muttered the physician, “we + must now wait for reenforcements. There is nothing to do for the present.” + </p> + <p> + Lieutenant Picart now appeared on the scene. + </p> + <p> + “The priest refuses to obey,” he said. “He has even + locked himself in the church with the sexton and beadle.” + </p> + <p> + On the other side of the square, opposite the white, tightly closed + town-hall, stood the church, silent and dark, with its massive oak door + studded with iron. + </p> + <p> + But just as the perplexed inhabitants were sticking their heads out of the + windows or coming out on their doorsteps, the drum suddenly began to be + heard, and Torchebeuf appeared, furiously beating the tattoo. He crossed + the square running, and disappeared along the road leading to the fields. + </p> + <p> + The commandant drew his sword, and advanced alone to half way between the + two buildings behind which the enemy had intrenched itself, and, waving + his sword over his head, he roared with all his might: + </p> + <p> + “Long live the Republic! Death to traitors!” + </p> + <p> + Then he returned to his officers. + </p> + <p> + The butcher, the baker and the druggist, much disturbed, were anxiously + pulling down their shades and closing their shops. The grocer alone kept + open. + </p> + <p> + However, the militia were arriving by degrees, each man in a different + uniform, but all wearing a black cap with gold braid, the cap being the + principal part of the outfit. They were armed with old rusty guns, the old + guns which had hung for thirty years on the kitchen wall; and they looked + a good deal like an army of tramps. + </p> + <p> + When he had about thirty men about him, the commandant, in a few words, + outlined the situation to them. Then, turning to his staff: “Let us + act,” he said. + </p> + <p> + The villagers were gathering together and talking the matter over. + </p> + <p> + The doctor quickly decided on a plan of campaign. + </p> + <p> + “Lieutenant Picart, you will advance under the windows of this + town-hall and summon Monsieur de Varnetot, in the name of the Republic, to + hand the keys over to me.” + </p> + <p> + But the lieutenant, a master mason, refused: + </p> + <p> + “You're smart, you are. I don't care to get killed, thank you. Those + people in there shoot straight, don't you forget it. Do your errands + yourself.” + </p> + <p> + The commandant grew very red. + </p> + <p> + “I command you to go in the name of discipline!” + </p> + <p> + The lieutenant rebelled: + </p> + <p> + “I'm not going to have my beauty spoiled without knowing why.” + </p> + <p> + All the notables, gathered in a group near by, began to laugh. One of them + cried: + </p> + <p> + “You are right, Picart, this isn't the right time.” + </p> + <p> + The doctor then muttered: + </p> + <p> + “Cowards!” + </p> + <p> + And, leaving his sword and his revolver in the hands of a soldier, he + advanced slowly, his eye fastened on the windows, expecting any minute to + see a gun trained on him. + </p> + <p> + When he was within a few feet of the building, the doors at both ends, + leading into the two schools, opened and a flood of children ran out, boys + from one side, girls from the ether, and began to play around the doctor, + in the big empty square, screeching and screaming, and making so much + noise that he could not make himself heard. + </p> + <p> + As soon as the last child was out of the building, the two doors closed + again. + </p> + <p> + Most of the youngsters finally dispersed, and the commandant called in a + loud voice: + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur de Varnetot!” + </p> + <p> + A window on the first floor opened and M. de Varnetot appeared. + </p> + <p> + The commandant continued: + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur, you know that great events have just taken place which + have changed the entire aspect of the government. The one which you + represented no longer exists. The one which I represent is taking control. + Under these painful, but decisive circumstances, I come, in the name of + the new Republic, to ask you to turn over to me the office which you held + under the former government.” + </p> + <p> + M. de Varnetot answered: + </p> + <p> + “Doctor, I am the mayor of Canneville, duly appointed, and I shall + remain mayor of Canneville until I have been dismissed by a decree from my + superiors. As mayor, I am in my place in the townhall, and here I stay. + Anyhow, just try to get me out.” + </p> + <p> + He closed the window. + </p> + <p> + The commandant returned to his troop. But before giving any information, + eyeing Lieutenant Picart from head to foot, he exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “You're a great one, you are! You're a fine specimen of manhood! + You're a disgrace to the army! I degrade you.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't give a——!” + </p> + <p> + He turned away and mingled with a group of townspeople. + </p> + <p> + Then the doctor hesitated. What could he do? Attack? But would his men + obey orders? And then, did he have the right to do so? + </p> + <p> + An idea struck him. He ran to the telegraph office, opposite the + town-hall, and sent off three telegrams: + </p> + <p> + To the new republican government in Paris. + </p> + <p> + To the new prefect of the Seine-Inferieure, at Rouen. + </p> + <p> + To the new republican sub-prefect at Dieppe. + </p> + <p> + He explained the situation, pointed out the danger which the town would + run if it should remain in the hands of the royalist mayor; offered his + faithful services, asked for orders and signed, putting all his titles + after his name. + </p> + <p> + Then he returned to his battalion, and, drawing ten francs from his + pocket, he cried: “Here, my friends, go eat and drink; only leave me + a detachment of ten men to guard against anybody's leaving the town-hall.” + </p> + <p> + But ex-Lieutenant Picart, who had been talking with the watchmaker, heard + him; he began to laugh, and exclaimed: “By Jove, if they come out, + it'll give you a chance to get in. Otherwise I can see you standing out + there for the rest of your life!” + </p> + <p> + The doctor did not reply, and he went to luncheon. + </p> + <p> + In the afternoon, he disposed his men about the town as though they were + in immediate danger of an ambush. + </p> + <p> + Several times he passed in front of the town-hall and of the church + without noticing anything suspicious; the two buildings looked as though + empty. + </p> + <p> + The butcher, the baker and the druggist once more opened up their stores. + </p> + <p> + Everybody was talking about the affair. If the emperor were a prisoner, + there must have been some kind of treason. They did not know exactly which + of the republics had returned to power. + </p> + <p> + Night fell. + </p> + <p> + Toward nine o'clock, the doctor, alone, noiselessly approached the + entrance of the public building, persuaded that the enemy must have gone + to bed; and, as he was preparing to batter down the door with a pick-axe, + the deep voice of a sentry suddenly called: + </p> + <p> + “Who goes there?” + </p> + <p> + And M. Massarel retreated as fast as his legs could carry him. + </p> + <p> + Day broke without any change in the situation. + </p> + <p> + Armed militia occupied the square. All the citizens had gathered around + this troop awaiting developments. Even neighboring villagers had come to + look on. + </p> + <p> + Then the doctor, seeing that his reputation was at stake, resolved to put + an end to the matter in one way or another; and he was about to take some + measures, undoubtedly energetic ones, when the door of the telegraph + station opened and the little servant of the postmistress appeared, + holding in her hands two papers. + </p> + <p> + First she went to the commandant and gave him one of the despatches; then + she crossed the empty square, confused at seeing the eyes of everyone on + her, and lowering her head and running along with little quick steps, she + went and knocked softly at the door of the barricaded house, as though + ignorant of the fact that those behind it were armed. + </p> + <p> + The door opened wide enough to let a man's hand reach out and receive the + message; and the young girl returned blushing, ready to cry at being thus + stared at by the whole countryside. + </p> + <p> + In a clear voice, the doctor cried: + </p> + <p> + “Silence, if you please.” + </p> + <p> + When the populace had quieted down, he continued proudly: + </p> + <p> + “Here is the communication which I have received from the + government.” + </p> + <p> + And lifting the telegram he read: + </p> +<div class='pre'> + Former mayor dismissed. Inform him immediately, More orders + following. + For the sub-prefect: + SAPIN, Councillor. +</div> + <p> + He was-triumphant; his heart was throbbing with joy and his hands were + trembling; but Picart, his former subordinate, cried to him from a + neighboring group: + </p> + <p> + “That's all right; but supposing the others don't come out, what + good is the telegram going to do you?” + </p> + <p> + M. Massarel grew pale. He had not thought of that; if the others did not + come out, he would now have to take some decisive step. It was not only + his right, but his duty. + </p> + <p> + He looked anxiously at the town-hall, hoping to see the door open and his + adversary give in. + </p> + <p> + The door remained closed. What could he do? The crowd was growing and + closing around the militia. They were laughing. + </p> + <p> + One thought especially tortured the doctor. If he attacked, he would have + to march at the head of his men; and as, with him dead, all strife would + cease, it was at him and him only that M. de Varnetot and his three guards + would aim. And they were good shots, very good shots, as Picart had just + said. But an idea struck him and, turning to Pommel, he ordered: + </p> + <p> + “Run quickly to the druggist and ask him to lend me a towel and a + stick.” + </p> + <p> + The lieutenant hastened. + </p> + <p> + He would make a flag of truce, a white flag, at the sight of which the + royalist heart of the mayor would perhaps rejoice. + </p> + <p> + Pommel returned with the cloth and a broom-stick. With some twine they + completed the flag, and M. Massarel, grasping it in both hands and holding + it in front of him, again advanced in the direction of the town-hall. When + he was opposite the door, he once more called: “Monsieur de + Varnetot!” The door suddenly opened and M. de Varnetot and his three + guards appeared on the threshold. + </p> + <p> + Instinctively the doctor stepped back; then he bowed courteously to his + enemy, and, choking with emotion, he announced: “I have come, + monsieur, to make you acquainted with the orders which I have received.” + </p> + <p> + The nobleman, without returning the bow, answered: “I resign, + monsieur, but understand that it is neither through fear of, nor obedience + to, the odious government which has usurped the power.” And, + emphasizing every word, he declared: “I do not wish to appear, for a + single day, to serve the Republic. That's all.” + </p> + <p> + Massarel, stunned, answered nothing; and M. de Varnetot, walking quickly, + disappeared around the corner of the square, still followed by his escort. + </p> + <p> + The doctor, puffed up with pride, returned to the crowd. As soon as he was + near enough to make himself heard, he cried: “Hurrah! hurrah! + Victory crowns the Republic everywhere.” + </p> + <p> + There was no outburst of joy. + </p> + <p> + The doctor continued: “We are free, you are free, independent! Be + proud!” + </p> + <p> + The motionless villagers were looking at him without any signs of triumph + shining in their eyes. + </p> + <p> + He looked at them, indignant at their indifference, thinking of what he + could say or do in order to make an impression to electrify this calm + peasantry, to fulfill his mission as a leader. + </p> + <p> + He had an inspiration and, turning to Pommel, he ordered: “Lieutenant, + go get me the bust of the ex-emperor which is in the meeting room of the + municipal council, and bring it here with a chair.” + </p> + <p> + The man presently reappeared, carrying on his right shoulder the plaster + Bonaparte, and holding in his left hand a cane-seated chair. + </p> + <p> + M. Massarel went towards him, took the chair, placed the white bust on it, + then stepping back a few steps, he addressed it in a loud voice: + </p> + <p> + “Tyrant, tyrant, you have fallen down in the mud. The dying + fatherland was in its death throes under your oppression. Vengeful Destiny + has struck you. Defeat and shame have pursued you; you fall conquered, a + prisoner of the Prussians; and from the ruins of your crumbling empire, + the young and glorious Republic arises, lifting from the ground your + broken sword——” + </p> + <p> + He waited for applause. Not a sound greeted his listening ear. The + peasants, nonplussed, kept silent; and the white, placid, well-groomed + statue seemed to look at M. Massarel with its plaster smile, ineffaceable + and sarcastic. + </p> + <p> + Thus they stood, face to face, Napoleon on his chair, the physician + standing three feet away. Anger seized the commandant. What could he do to + move this crowd and definitely to win over public opinion? + </p> + <p> + He happened to carry his hand to his stomach, and he felt, under his red + belt, the butt of his revolver. + </p> + <p> + Not another inspiration, not another word cane to his mind. Then, he drew + his weapon, stepped back a few steps and shot the former monarch. + </p> + <p> + The bullet made a little black hole: like a spot, in his forehead. No + sensation was created. M. Massarel shot a second time and made a second + hole, then a third time, then, without stopping, he shot off the three + remaining shots. Napoleon's forehead was blown away in a white powder, but + his eyes, nose and pointed mustache remained intact. + </p> + <p> + Then in exasperation, the doctor kicked the chair over, and placing one + foot on what remained of the bust in the position of a conqueror, he + turned to the amazed public and yelled: “Thus may all traitors die!” + </p> + <p> + As no enthusiasm was, as yet, visible, the spectators appearing to be dumb + with astonishment, the commandant cried to the militia: “You may go + home now.” And he himself walked rapidly, almost ran, towards his + house. + </p> + <p> + As soon as he appeared, the servant told him that some patients had been + waiting in his office for over three hours. He hastened in. They were the + same two peasants as a few days before, who had returned at daybreak, + obstinate and patient. + </p> + <p> + The old man immediately began his explanation: + </p> + <p> + “It began with ants, which seemed to be crawling up and down my legs——” + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + LIEUTENANT LARE'S MARRIAGE + </h2> + <p> + Since the beginning of the campaign Lieutenant Lare had taken two cannon + from the Prussians. His general had said: “Thank you, lieutenant,” + and had given him the cross of honor. + </p> + <p> + As he was as cautious as he was brave, wary, inventive, wily and + resourceful, he was entrusted with a hundred soldiers and he organized a + company of scouts who saved the army on several occasions during a + retreat. + </p> + <p> + But the invading army entered by every frontier like a surging sea. Great + waves of men arrived one after the other, scattering all around them a + scum of freebooters. General Carrel's brigade, separated from its + division, retreated continually, fighting each day, but remaining almost + intact, thanks to the vigilance and agility of Lieutenant Lare, who seemed + to be everywhere at the same moment, baffling all the enemy's cunning, + frustrating their plans, misleading their Uhlans and killing their + vanguards. + </p> + <p> + One morning the general sent for him. + </p> + <p> + “Lieutenant,” said he, “here is a dispatch from General + de Lacere, who will be destroyed if we do not go to his aid by sunrise + to-morrow. He is at Blainville, eight leagues from here. You will start at + nightfall with three hundred men, whom you will echelon along the road. I + will follow you two hours later. Study the road carefully; I fear we may + meet a division of the enemy.” + </p> + <p> + It had been freezing hard for a week. At two o'clock it began to snow, and + by night the ground was covered and heavy white swirls concealed objects + hard by. + </p> + <p> + At six o'clock the detachment set out. + </p> + <p> + Two men walked alone as scouts about three yards ahead. Then came a + platoon of ten men commanded by the lieutenant himself. The rest followed + them in two long columns. To the right and left of the little band, at a + distance of about three hundred feet on either side, some soldiers marched + in pairs. + </p> + <p> + The snow, which was still falling, covered them with a white powder in the + darkness, and as it did not melt on their uniforms, they were hardly + distinguishable in the night amid the dead whiteness of the landscape. + </p> + <p> + From time to time they halted. One heard nothing but that indescribable, + nameless flutter of falling snow—a sensation rather than a sound, a + vague, ominous murmur. A command was given in a low tone and when the + troop resumed its march it left in its wake a sort of white phantom + standing in the snow. It gradually grew fainter and finally disappeared. + It was the echelons who were to lead the army. + </p> + <p> + The scouts slackened their pace. Something was ahead of them. + </p> + <p> + “Turn to the right,” said the lieutenant; “it is the + Ronfi wood; the chateau is more to the left.” + </p> + <p> + Presently the command “Halt” was passed along. The detachment + stopped and waited for the lieutenant, who, accompanied by only ten men, + had undertaken a reconnoitering expedition to the chateau. + </p> + <p> + They advanced, creeping under the trees. Suddenly they all remained + motionless. Around them was a dead silence. Then, quite near them, a + little clear, musical young voice was heard amid the stillness of the + wood. + </p> + <p> + “Father, we shall get lost in the snow. We shall never reach + Blainville.” + </p> + <p> + A deeper voice replied: + </p> + <p> + “Never fear, little daughter; I know the country as well as I know + my pocket.” + </p> + <p> + The lieutenant said a few words and four men moved away silently, like + shadows. + </p> + <p> + All at once a woman's shrill cry was heard through the darkness. Two + prisoners were brought back, an old man and a young girl. The lieutenant + questioned them, still in a low tone: + </p> + <p> + “Your name?” + </p> + <p> + “Pierre Bernard.” + </p> + <p> + “Your profession?” + </p> + <p> + “Butler to Comte de Ronfi.” + </p> + <p> + “Is this your daughter?” + </p> + <p> + 'Yes!' + </p> + <p> + “What does she do?” + </p> + <p> + “She is laundress at the chateau.” + </p> + <p> + “Where are you going?” + </p> + <p> + “We are making our escape.” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” + </p> + <p> + “Twelve Uhlans passed by this evening. They shot three keepers and + hanged the gardener. I was alarmed on account of the little one.” + </p> + <p> + “Whither are you bound?” + </p> + <p> + “To Blainville.” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” + </p> + <p> + “Because there is a French army there.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you know the way?” + </p> + <p> + “Perfectly.” + </p> + <p> + “Well then, follow us.” + </p> + <p> + They rejoined the column and resumed their march across country. The old + man walked in silence beside the lieutenant, his daughter walking at his + side. All at once she stopped. + </p> + <p> + “Father,” she said, “I am so tired I cannot go any + farther.” + </p> + <p> + And she sat down. She was shaking with cold and seemed about to lose + consciousness. Her father wanted to carry her, but he was too old and too + weak. + </p> + <p> + “Lieutenant,” said he, sobbing, “we shall only impede + your march. France before all. Leave us here.” + </p> + <p> + The officer had given a command. Some men had started off. They came back + with branches they had cut, and in a minute a litter was ready. The whole + detachment had joined them by this time. + </p> + <p> + “Here is a woman dying of cold,” said the lieutenant. “Who + will give his cape to cover her?” + </p> + <p> + Two hundred capes were taken off. The young girl was wrapped up in these + warm soldiers' capes, gently laid in the litter, and then four' hardy + shoulders lifted her up, and like an Eastern queen borne by her slaves she + was placed in the center of the detachment of soldiers, who resumed their + march with more energy, more courage, more cheerfulness, animated by the + presence of a woman, that sovereign inspiration that has stirred the old + French blood to so many deeds of valor. + </p> + <p> + At the end of an hour they halted again and every one lay down in the + snow. Over yonder on the level country a big, dark shadow was moving. It + looked like some weird monster stretching itself out like a serpent, then + suddenly coiling itself into a mass, darting forth again, then back, and + then forward again without ceasing. Some whispered orders were passed + around among the soldiers, and an occasional little, dry, metallic click + was heard. The moving object suddenly came nearer, and twelve Uhlans were + seen approaching at a gallop, one behind the other, having lost their way + in the darkness. A brilliant flash suddenly revealed to them two hundred + men lying on the ground before them. A rapid fire was heard, which died + away in the snowy silence, and all the twelve fell to the ground, their + horses with them. + </p> + <p> + After a long rest the march was resumed. The old man whom they had + captured acted as guide. + </p> + <p> + Presently a voice far off in the distance cried out: “Who goes + there?” + </p> + <p> + Another voice nearer by gave the countersign. + </p> + <p> + They made another halt; some conferences took place. It had stopped + snowing. A cold wind was driving the clouds, and innumerable stars were + sparkling in the sky behind them, gradually paling in the rosy light of + dawn. + </p> + <p> + A staff officer came forward to receive the detachment. But when he asked + who was being carried in the litter, the form stirred; two little hands + moved aside the big blue army capes and, rosy as the dawn, with two eyes + that were brighter than the stars that had just faded from sight, and a + smile as radiant as the morn, a dainty face appeared. + </p> + <p> + “It is I, monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + The soldiers, wild with delight, clapped their hands and bore the young + girl in triumph into the midst of the camp, that was just getting to arms. + Presently General Carrel arrived on the scene. At nine o'clock the + Prussians made an attack. They beat a retreat at noon. + </p> + <p> + That evening, as Lieutenant Lare, overcome by fatigue, was sleeping on a + bundle of straw, he was sent for by the general. He found the commanding + officer in his tent, chatting with the old man whom they had come across + during the night. As soon as he entered the tent the general took his + hand, and addressing the stranger, said: + </p> + <p> + “My dear comte, this is the young man of whom you were telling me + just now; he is one of my best officers.” + </p> + <p> + He smiled, lowered his tone, and added: + </p> + <p> + “The best.” + </p> + <p> + Then, turning to the astonished lieutenant, he presented “Comte de + Ronfi-Quedissac.” + </p> + <p> + The old man took both his hands, saying: + </p> + <p> + “My dear lieutenant, you have saved my daughter's life. I have only + one way of thanking you. You may come in a few months to tell me—if + you like her.” + </p> + <p> + One year later, on the very same day, Captain Lare and Miss + Louise-Hortense-Genevieve de Ronfi-Quedissac were married in the church of + St. Thomas Aquinas. + </p> + <p> + She brought a dowry of six thousand francs, and was said to be the + prettiest bride that had been seen that year. + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + THE HORRIBLE + </h2> + <p> + The shadows of a balmy night were slowly falling. The women remained in + the drawing-room of the villa. The men, seated, or astride of garden + chairs, were smoking outside the door of the house, around a table laden + with cups and liqueur glasses. + </p> + <p> + Their lighted cigars shone like eyes in the darkness, which was gradually + becoming more dense. They had been talking about a frightful accident + which had occurred the night before—two men and three women drowned + in the river before the eyes of the guests. + </p> + <p> + General de G——remarked: + </p> + <p> + “Yes, these things are affecting, but they are not horrible. + </p> + <p> + “Horrible, that well-known word, means much more than terrible. A + frightful accident like this affects, upsets, terrifies; it does not + horrify. In order that we should experience horror, something more is + needed than emotion, something more than the spectacle of a dreadful + death; there must be a shuddering sense of mystery, or a sensation of + abnormal terror, more than natural. A man who dies, even under the most + tragic circumstances, does not excite horror; a field of battle is not + horrible; blood is not horrible; the vilest crimes are rarely horrible. + </p> + <p> + “Here are two personal examples which have shown me what is the + meaning of horror. + </p> + <p> + “It was during the war of 1870. We were retreating toward + Pont-Audemer, after having passed through Rouen. The army, consisting of + about twenty thousand men, twenty thousand routed men, disbanded, + demoralized, exhausted, were going to disband at Havre. + </p> + <p> + “The earth was covered with snow. The night was falling. They had + not eaten anything since the day before. They were fleeing rapidly, the + Prussians not being far off. + </p> + <p> + “All the Norman country, sombre, dotted with the shadows of the + trees surrounding the farms, stretched out beneath a black, heavy, + threatening sky. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing else could be heard in the wan twilight but the confused + sound, undefined though rapid, of a marching throng, an endless tramping, + mingled with the vague clink of tin bowls or swords. The men, bent, + round-shouldered, dirty, in many cases even in rags, dragged themselves + along, hurried through the snow, with a long, broken-backed stride. + </p> + <p> + “The skin of their hands froze to the butt ends of their muskets, + for it was freezing hard that night. I frequently saw a little soldier + take off his shoes in order to walk barefoot, as his shoes hurt his weary + feet; and at every step he left a track of blood. Then, after some time, + he would sit down in a field for a few minutes' rest, and he never got up + again. Every man who sat down was a dead man. + </p> + <p> + “Should we have left behind us those poor, exhausted soldiers, who + fondly counted on being able to start afresh as soon as they had somewhat + refreshed their stiffened legs? But scarcely had they ceased to move, and + to make their almost frozen blood circulate in their veins, than an + unconquerable torpor congealed them, nailed them to the ground, closed + their eyes, and paralyzed in one second this overworked human mechanism. + And they gradually sank down, their foreheads on their knees, without, + however, falling over, for their loins and their limbs became as hard and + immovable as wood, impossible to bend or to stand upright. + </p> + <p> + “And the rest of us, more robust, kept straggling on, chilled to the + marrow, advancing by a kind of inertia through the night, through the + snow, through that cold and deadly country, crushed by pain, by defeat, by + despair, above all overcome by the abominable sensation of abandonment, of + the end, of death, of nothingness. + </p> + <p> + “I saw two gendarmes holding by the arm a curious-looking little + man, old, beardless, of truly surprising aspect. + </p> + <p> + “They were looking for an officer, believing that they had caught a + spy. The word 'spy' at once spread through the midst of the stragglers, + and they gathered in a group round the prisoner. A voice exclaimed: 'He + must be shot!' And all these soldiers who were falling from utter + prostration, only holding themselves on their feet by leaning on their + guns, felt all of a sudden that thrill of furious and bestial anger which + urges on a mob to massacre. + </p> + <p> + “I wanted to speak. I was at that time in command of a battalion; + but they no longer recognized the authority of their commanding officers; + they would even have shot me. + </p> + <p> + “One of the gendarmes said: 'He has been following us for the three + last days. He has been asking information from every one about the + artillery.'” + </p> + <p> + I took it on myself to question this person. + </p> + <p> + “What are you doing? What do you want? Why are you accompanying the + army?” + </p> + <p> + “He stammered out some words in some unintelligible dialect. He was, + indeed, a strange being, with narrow shoulders, a sly look, and such an + agitated air in my presence that I really no longer doubted that he was a + spy. He seemed very aged and feeble. He kept looking at me from under his + eyes with a humble, stupid, crafty air. + </p> + <p> + “The men all round us exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “'To the wall! To the wall!' + </p> + <p> + “I said to the gendarmes: + </p> + <p> + “'Will you be responsible for the prisoner?' + </p> + <p> + “I had not ceased speaking when a terrible shove threw me on my + back, and in a second I saw the man seized by the furious soldiers, thrown + down, struck, dragged along the side of the road, and flung against a + tree. He fell in the snow, nearly dead already. + </p> + <p> + “And immediately they shot him. The soldiers fired at him, reloaded + their guns, fired again with the desperate energy of brutes. They fought + with each other to have a shot at him, filed off in front of the corpse, + and kept on firing at him, as people at a funeral keep sprinkling holy + water in front of a coffin. + </p> + <p> + “But suddenly a cry arose of 'The Prussians! the Prussians!' + </p> + <p> + “And all along the horizon I heard the great noise of this + panic-stricken army in full flight. + </p> + <p> + “A panic, the result of these shots fired at this vagabond, had + filled his very executioners with terror; and, without realizing that they + were themselves the originators of the scare, they fled and disappeared in + the darkness. + </p> + <p> + “I remained alone with the corpse, except for the two gendarmes + whose duty compelled them to stay with me. + </p> + <p> + “They lifted up the riddled mass of bruised and bleeding flesh. + </p> + <p> + “'He must be searched,' I said. And I handed them a box of taper + matches which I had in my pocket. One of the soldiers had another box. I + was standing between the two. + </p> + <p> + “The gendarme who was examining the body announced: + </p> + <p> + “'Clothed in a blue blouse, a white shirt, trousers, and a pair of + shoes.' + </p> + <p> + “The first match went out; we lighted a second. The man continued, + as he turned out his pockets: + </p> + <p> + “'A horn-handled pocketknife, check handkerchief, a snuffbox, a bit + of pack thread, a piece of bread.' + </p> + <p> + “The second match went out; we lighted a third. The gendarme, after + having felt the corpse for a long time, said: + </p> + <p> + “'That is all.' + </p> + <p> + “I said: + </p> + <p> + “'Strip him. We shall perhaps find something next his skin.” + </p> + <p> + “And in order that the two soldiers might help each other in this + task, I stood between them to hold the lighted match. By the rapid and + speedily extinguished flame of the match, I saw them take off the garments + one by one, and expose to view that bleeding bundle of flesh, still warm, + though lifeless. + </p> + <p> + “And suddenly one of them exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “'Good God, general, it is a woman!' + </p> + <p> + “I cannot describe to you the strange and poignant sensation of pain + that moved my heart. I could not believe it, and I knelt down in the snow + before this shapeless pulp of flesh to see for myself: it was a woman. + </p> + <p> + “The two gendarmes, speechless and stunned, waited for me to give my + opinion on the matter. But I did not know what to think, what theory to + adopt. + </p> + <p> + “Then the brigadier slowly drawled out: + </p> + <p> + “'Perhaps she came to look for a son of hers in the artillery, whom + she had not heard from.' + </p> + <p> + “And the other chimed in: + </p> + <p> + “'Perhaps, indeed, that is so.' + </p> + <p> + “And I, who had seen some very terrible things in my time, began to + cry. And I felt, in the presence of this corpse, on that icy cold night, + in the midst of that gloomy plain; at the sight of this mystery, at the + sight of this murdered stranger, the meaning of that word 'horror.' + </p> + <p> + “I had the same sensation last year, while interrogating one of the + survivors of the Flatters Mission, an Algerian sharpshooter. + </p> + <p> + “You know the details of that atrocious drama. It is possible, + however, that you are unacquainted with one of them. + </p> + <p> + “The colonel travelled through the desert into the Soudan, and + passed through the immense territory of the Touaregs, who, in that great + ocean of sand which stretches from the Atlantic to Egypt and from the + Soudan to Algeria, are a kind of pirates, resembling those who ravaged the + seas in former days. + </p> + <p> + “The guides who accompanied the column belonged to the tribe of the + Chambaa, of Ouargla. + </p> + <p> + “Now, one day we encamped in the middle of the desert, and the Arabs + declared that, as the spring was still some distance away, they would go + with all their camels to look for water. + </p> + <p> + “One man alone warned the colonel that he had been betrayed. + Flatters did not believe this, and accompanied the convoy with the + engineers, the doctors, and nearly all his officers. + </p> + <p> + “They were massacred round the spring, and all the camels were + captured. + </p> + <p> + “The captain of the Arab Intelligence Department at Ouargla, who had + remained in the camp, took command of the survivors, spahis and + sharpshooters, and they began to retreat, leaving behind them the baggage + and provisions, for want of camels to carry them. + </p> + <p> + “Then they started on their journey through this solitude without + shade and boundless, beneath the devouring sun, which burned them from + morning till night. + </p> + <p> + “One tribe came to tender its submission and brought dates as a + tribute. The dates were poisoned. Nearly all the Frenchmen died, and, + among them, the last officer. + </p> + <p> + “There now only remained a few spahis with their quartermaster, + Pobeguin, and some native sharpshooters of the Chambaa tribe. They had + still two camels left. They disappeared one night, along with two, Arabs. + </p> + <p> + “Then the survivors understood that they would be obliged to eat + each other, and as soon as they discovered the flight of the two men with + the two camels, those who remained separated, and proceeded to march, one + by one, through the soft sand, under the glare of a scorching sun, at a + distance of more than a gunshot from each other. + </p> + <p> + “So they went on all day, and when they reached a spring each of + them came to drink at it in turn, as soon as each solitary marcher had + moved forward the number of yards arranged upon. And thus they continued + marching the whole day, raising everywhere they passed, in that level, + burnt up expanse, those little columns of dust which, from a distance, + indicate those who are trudging through the desert. + </p> + <p> + “But one morning one of the travellers suddenly turned round and + approached the man behind him. And they all stopped to look. + </p> + <p> + “The man toward whom the famished soldier drew near did not flee, + but lay flat on the ground, and took aim at the one who was coming toward + him. When he believed he was within gunshot, he fired. The other was not + hit, and he continued then to advance, and levelling his gun, in turn, he + killed his comrade. + </p> + <p> + “Then from all directions the others rushed to seek their share. And + he who had killed the fallen man, cutting the corpse into pieces, + distributed it. + </p> + <p> + “And they once more placed themselves at fixed distances, these + irreconcilable allies, preparing for the next murder which would bring + them together. + </p> + <p> + “For two days they lived on this human flesh which they divided + between them. Then, becoming famished again, he who had killed the first + man began killing afresh. And again, like a butcher, he cut up the corpse + and offered it to his comrades, keeping only his own portion of it. + </p> + <p> + “And so this retreat of cannibals continued. + </p> + <p> + “The last Frenchman, Pobeguin, was massacred at the side of a well, + the very night before the supplies arrived. + </p> + <p> + “Do you understand now what I mean by the horrible?” + </p> + <p> + This was the story told us a few nights ago by General de G——. + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + MADAME PARISSE + </h2> + <p> + I was sitting on the pier of the small port of Obernon, near the village + of Salis, looking at Antibes, bathed in the setting sun. I had never + before seen anything so wonderful and so beautiful. + </p> + <p> + The small town, enclosed by its massive ramparts, built by Monsieur de + Vauban, extended into the open sea, in the middle of the immense Gulf of + Nice. The great waves, coming in from the ocean, broke at its feet, + surrounding it with a wreath of foam; and beyond the ramparts the houses + climbed up the hill, one after the other, as far as the two towers, which + rose up into the sky, like the peaks of an ancient helmet. And these two + towers were outlined against the milky whiteness of the Alps, that + enormous distant wall of snow which enclosed the entire horizon. + </p> + <p> + Between the white foam at the foot of the walls and the white snow on the + sky-line the little city, dazzling against the bluish background of the + nearest mountain ranges, presented to the rays of the setting sun a + pyramid of red-roofed houses, whose facades were also white, but so + different one from another that they seemed to be of all tints. + </p> + <p> + And the sky above the Alps was itself of a blue that was almost white, as + if the snow had tinted it; some silvery clouds were floating just over the + pale summits, and on the other side of the gulf Nice, lying close to the + water, stretched like a white thread between the sea and the mountain. Two + great sails, driven by a strong breeze, seemed to skim over the waves. I + looked upon all this, astounded. + </p> + <p> + This view was one of those sweet, rare, delightful things that seem to + permeate you and are unforgettable, like the memory of a great happiness. + One sees, thinks, suffers, is moved and loves with the eyes. He who can + feel with the eye experiences the same keen, exquisite and deep pleasure + in looking at men and things as the man with the delicate and sensitive + ear, whose soul music overwhelms. + </p> + <p> + I turned to my companion, M. Martini, a pureblooded Southerner. + </p> + <p> + “This is certainly one of the rarest sights which it has been + vouchsafed to me to admire. + </p> + <p> + “I have seen Mont Saint-Michel, that monstrous granite jewel, rise + out of the sand at sunrise. + </p> + <p> + “I have seen, in the Sahara, Lake Raianechergui, fifty kilometers + long, shining under a moon as brilliant as our sun and breathing up toward + it a white cloud, like a mist of milk. + </p> + <p> + “I have seen, in the Lipari Islands, the weird sulphur crater of the + Volcanello, a giant flower which smokes and burns, an enormous yellow + flower, opening out in the midst of the sea, whose stem is a volcano. + </p> + <p> + “But I have seen nothing more wonderful than Antibes, standing + against the Alps in the setting sun. + </p> + <p> + “And I know not how it is that memories of antiquity haunt me; + verses of Homer come into my mind; this is a city of the ancient East, a + city of the odyssey; this is Troy, although Troy was very far from the + sea.” + </p> + <p> + M. Martini drew the Sarty guide-book out of his pocket and read: “This + city was originally a colony founded by the Phocians of Marseilles, about + 340 B.C. They gave it the Greek name of Antipolis, meaning counter-city, + city opposite another, because it is in fact opposite to Nice, another + colony from Marseilles. + </p> + <p> + “After the Gauls were conquered, the Romans turned Antibes into a + municipal city, its inhabitants receiving the rights of Roman citizenship. + </p> + <p> + “We know by an epigram of Martial that at this time——” + </p> + <p> + I interrupted him: + </p> + <p> + “I don't care what she was. I tell you that I see down there a city + of the Odyssey. The coast of Asia and the coast of Europe resemble each + other in their shores, and there is no city on the other coast of the + Mediterranean which awakens in me the memories of the heroic age as this + one does.” + </p> + <p> + A footstep caused me to turn my head; a woman, a large, dark woman, was + walking along the road which skirts the sea in going to the cape. + </p> + <p> + “That is Madame Parisse, you know,” muttered Monsieur Martini, + dwelling on the final syllable. + </p> + <p> + No, I did not know, but that name, mentioned carelessly, that name of the + Trojan shepherd, confirmed me in my dream. + </p> + <p> + However, I asked: “Who is this Madame Parisse?” + </p> + <p> + He seemed astonished that I did not know the story. + </p> + <p> + I assured him that I did not know it, and I looked after the woman, who + passed by without seeing us, dreaming, walking with steady and slow step, + as doubtless the ladies of old walked. + </p> + <p> + She was perhaps thirty-five years old and still very beautiful, though a + trifle stout. + </p> + <p> + And Monsieur Martini told me the following story: + </p> + <p> + Mademoiselle Combelombe was married, one year before the war of 1870, to + Monsieur Parisse, a government official. She was then a handsome young + girl, as slender and lively as she has now become stout and sad. + </p> + <p> + Unwillingly she had accepted Monsieur Parisse, one of those little fat men + with short legs, who trip along, with trousers that are always too large. + </p> + <p> + After the war Antibes was garrisoned by a single battalion commanded by + Monsieur Jean de Carmelin, a young officer decorated during the war, and + who had just received his four stripes. + </p> + <p> + As he found life exceedingly tedious in this fortress this stuffy + mole-hole enclosed by its enormous double walls, he often strolled out to + the cape, a kind of park or pine wood shaken by all the winds from the + sea. + </p> + <p> + There he met Madame Parisse, who also came out in the summer evenings to + get the fresh air under the trees. How did they come to love each other? + Who knows? They met, they looked at each other, and when out of sight they + doubtless thought of each other. The image of the young woman with the + brown eyes, the black hair, the pale skin, this fresh, handsome + Southerner, who displayed her teeth in smiling, floated before the eyes of + the officer as he continued his promenade, chewing his cigar instead of + smoking it; and the image of the commanding officer, in his close-fitting + coat, covered with gold lace, and his red trousers, and a little blond + mustache, would pass before the eyes of Madame Parisse, when her husband, + half shaven and ill-clad, short-legged and big-bellied, came home to + supper in the evening. + </p> + <p> + As they met so often, they perhaps smiled at the next meeting; then, + seeing each other again and again, they felt as if they knew each other. + He certainly bowed to her. And she, surprised, bowed in return, but very, + very slightly, just enough not to appear impolite. But after two weeks she + returned his salutation from a distance, even before they were side by + side. + </p> + <p> + He spoke to her. Of what? Doubtless of the setting sun. They admired it + together, looking for it in each other's eyes more often than on the + horizon. And every evening for two weeks this was the commonplace and + persistent pretext for a few minutes' chat. + </p> + <p> + Then they ventured to take a few steps together, talking of anything that + came into their minds, but their eyes were already saying to each other a + thousand more intimate things, those secret, charming things that are + reflected in the gentle emotion of the glance, and that cause the heart to + beat, for they are a better revelation of the soul than the spoken ward. + </p> + <p> + And then he would take her hand, murmuring those words which the woman + divines, without seeming to hear them. + </p> + <p> + And it was agreed between them that they would love each other without + evidencing it by anything sensual or brutal. + </p> + <p> + She would have remained indefinitely at this stage of intimacy, but he + wanted more. And every day he urged her more hotly to give in to his + ardent desire. + </p> + <p> + She resisted, would not hear of it, seemed determined not to give way. + </p> + <p> + But one evening she said to him casually: “My husband has just gone + to Marseilles. He will be away four days.” + </p> + <p> + Jean de Carmelin threw himself at her feet, imploring her to open her door + to him that very night at eleven o'clock. But she would not listen to him, + and went home, appearing to be annoyed. + </p> + <p> + The commandant was in a bad humor all the evening, and the next morning at + dawn he went out on the ramparts in a rage, going from one exercise field + to the other, dealing out punishment to the officers and men as one might + fling stones into a crowd, + </p> + <p> + On going in to breakfast he found an envelope under his napkin with these + four words: “To-night at ten.” And he gave one hundred sous + without any reason to the waiter. + </p> + <p> + The day seemed endless to him. He passed part of it in curling his hair + and perfuming himself. + </p> + <p> + As he was sitting down to the dinner-table another envelope was handed to + him, and in it he found the following telegram: + </p> +<div class='pre'> + “My Love: Business completed. I return this evening on the nine + o'clock train. + PARISSE.” + </div> + <p> + The commandant let loose such a vehement oath that the waiter dropped the + soup-tureen on the floor. + </p> + <p> + What should he do? He certainly wanted her, that very, evening at whatever + cost; and he would have her. He would resort to any means, even to + arresting and imprisoning the husband. Then a mad thought struck him. + Calling for paper, he wrote the following note: + </p> +<div class='pre'> + MADAME: He will not come back this evening, I swear it to + you,—and I shall be, you know where, at ten o'clock. Fear nothing. + I will answer for everything, on my honor as an officer. + JEAN DE CARMELIN. +</div> + <p> + And having sent off this letter, he quietly ate his dinner. + </p> + <p> + Toward eight o'clock he sent for Captain Gribois, the second in command, + and said, rolling between his fingers the crumpled telegram of Monsieur + Parisse: + </p> + <p> + “Captain, I have just received a telegram of a very singular nature, + which it is impossible for me to communicate to you. You will immediately + have all the gates of the city closed and guarded, so that no one, mind + me, no one, will either enter or leave before six in the morning. You will + also have men patrol the streets, who will compel the inhabitants to + retire to their houses at nine o'clock. Any one found outside beyond that + time will be conducted to his home 'manu militari'. If your men meet me + this night they will at once go out of my way, appearing not to know me. + You understand me?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, commandant.” + </p> + <p> + “I hold you responsible for the execution of my orders, my dear + captain.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, commandant.” + </p> + <p> + “Would you like to have a glass of chartreuse?” + </p> + <p> + “With great pleasure, commandant.” + </p> + <p> + They clinked glasses drank down the brown liquor and Captain Gribois left + the room. + </p> + <p> + The train from Marseilles arrived at the station at nine o'clock sharp, + left two passengers on the platform and went on toward Nice. + </p> + <p> + One of them, tall and thin, was Monsieur Saribe, the oil merchant, and the + other, short and fat, was Monsieur Parisse. + </p> + <p> + Together they set out, with their valises, to reach the city, one + kilometer distant. + </p> + <p> + But on arriving at the gate of the port the guards crossed their bayonets, + commanding them to retire. + </p> + <p> + Frightened, surprised, cowed with astonishment, they retired to + deliberate; then, after having taken counsel one with the other, they came + back cautiously to parley, giving their names. + </p> + <p> + But the soldiers evidently had strict orders, for they threatened to + shoot; and the two scared travellers ran off, throwing away their valises, + which impeded their flight. + </p> + <p> + Making the tour of the ramparts, they presented themselves at the gate on + the route to Cannes. This likewise was closed and guarded by a menacing + sentinel. Messrs. Saribe and Parisse, like the prudent men they were, + desisted from their efforts and went back to the station for shelter, + since it was not safe to be near the fortifications after sundown. + </p> + <p> + The station agent, surprised and sleepy, permitted them to stay till + morning in the waiting-room. + </p> + <p> + And they sat there side by side, in the dark, on the green velvet sofa, + too scared to think of sleeping. + </p> + <p> + It was a long and weary night for them. + </p> + <p> + At half-past six in the morning they were informed that the gates were + open and that people could now enter Antibes. + </p> + <p> + They set out for the city, but failed to find their abandoned valises on + the road. + </p> + <p> + When they passed through the gates of the city, still somewhat anxious, + the Commandant de Carmelin, with sly glance and mustache curled up, came + himself to look at them and question them. + </p> + <p> + Then he bowed to them politely, excusing himself for having caused them a + bad night. But he had to carry out orders. + </p> + <p> + The people of Antibes were scared to death. Some spoke of a surprise + planned by the Italians, others of the landing of the prince imperial and + others again believed that there was an Orleanist conspiracy. The truth + was suspected only later, when it became known that the battalion of the + commandant had been sent away, to a distance and that Monsieur de Carmelin + had been severely punished. + </p> + <p> + Monsieur Martini had finished his story. Madame Parisse returned, her + promenade being ended. She passed gravely near me, with her eyes fixed on + the Alps, whose summits now gleamed rosy in the last rays of the setting + sun. + </p> + <p> + I longed to speak to her, this poor, sad woman, who would ever be thinking + of that night of love, now long past, and of the bold man who for the sake + of a kiss from her had dared to put a city into a state of siege and to + compromise his whole future. + </p> + <p> + And to-day he had probably forgotten her, if he did not relate this + audacious, comical and tender farce to his comrades over their cups. + </p> + <p> + Had she seen him again? Did she still love him? And I thought: Here is an + instance of modern love, grotesque and yet heroic. The Homer who should + sing of this new Helen and the adventure of her Menelaus must be gifted + with the soul of a Paul de Kock. And yet the hero of this deserted woman + was brave, daring, handsome, strong as Achilles and more cunning than + Ulysses. + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + MADEMOISELLE FIFI + </h2> + <p> + Major Graf Von Farlsberg, the Prussian commandant, was reading his + newspaper as he lay back in a great easy-chair, with his booted feet on + the beautiful marble mantelpiece where his spurs had made two holes, which + had grown deeper every day during the three months that he had been in the + chateau of Uville. + </p> + <p> + A cup of coffee was smoking on a small inlaid table, which was stained + with liqueur, burned by cigars, notched by the penknife of the victorious + officer, who occasionally would stop while sharpening a pencil, to jot + down figures, or to make a drawing on it, just as it took his fancy. + </p> + <p> + When he had read his letters and the German newspapers, which his orderly + had brought him, he got up, and after throwing three or four enormous + pieces of green wood on the fire, for these gentlemen were gradually + cutting down the park in order to keep themselves warm, he went to the + window. The rain was descending in torrents, a regular Normandy rain, + which looked as if it were being poured out by some furious person, a + slanting rain, opaque as a curtain, which formed a kind of wall with + diagonal stripes, and which deluged everything, a rain such as one + frequently experiences in the neighborhood of Rouen, which is the + watering-pot of France. + </p> + <p> + For a long time the officer looked at the sodden turf and at the swollen + Andelle beyond it, which was overflowing its banks; he was drumming a + waltz with his fingers on the window-panes, when a noise made him turn + round. It was his second in command, Captain Baron van Kelweinstein. + </p> + <p> + The major was a giant, with broad shoulders and a long, fan-like beard, + which hung down like a curtain to his chest. His whole solemn person + suggested the idea of a military peacock, a peacock who was carrying his + tail spread out on his breast. He had cold, gentle blue eyes, and a scar + from a swordcut, which he had received in the war with Austria; he was + said to be an honorable man, as well as a brave officer. + </p> + <p> + The captain, a short, red-faced man, was tightly belted in at the waist, + his red hair was cropped quite close to his head, and in certain lights he + almost looked as if he had been rubbed over with phosphorus. He had lost + two front teeth one night, though he could not quite remember how, and + this sometimes made him speak unintelligibly, and he had a bald patch on + top of his head surrounded by a fringe of curly, bright golden hair, which + made him look like a monk. + </p> + <p> + The commandant shook hands with him and drank his cup of coffee (the sixth + that morning), while he listened to his subordinate's report of what had + occurred; and then they both went to the window and declared that it was a + very unpleasant outlook. The major, who was a quiet man, with a wife at + home, could accommodate himself to everything; but the captain, who led a + fast life, who was in the habit of frequenting low resorts, and enjoying + women's society, was angry at having to be shut up for three months in + that wretched hole. + </p> + <p> + There was a knock at the door, and when the commandant said, “Come + in,” one of the orderlies appeared, and by his mere presence + announced that breakfast was ready. In the dining-room they met three + other officers of lower rank—a lieutenant, Otto von Grossling, and + two sub-lieutenants, Fritz Scheuneberg and Baron von Eyrick, a very short, + fair-haired man, who was proud and brutal toward men, harsh toward + prisoners and as explosive as gunpowder. + </p> + <p> + Since he had been in France his comrades had called him nothing but + Mademoiselle Fifi. They had given him that nickname on account of his + dandified style and small waist, which looked as if he wore corsets; of + his pale face, on which his budding mustache scarcely showed, and on + account of the habit he had acquired of employing the French expression, + 'Fi, fi donc', which he pronounced with a slight whistle when he wished to + express his sovereign contempt for persons or things. + </p> + <p> + The dining-room of the chateau was a magnificent long room, whose fine old + mirrors, that were cracked by pistol bullets, and whose Flemish tapestry, + which was cut to ribbons, and hanging in rags in places from sword-cuts, + told too well what Mademoiselle Fifi's occupation was during his spare + time. + </p> + <p> + There were three family portraits on the walls a steel-clad knight, a + cardinal and a judge, who were all smoking long porcelain pipes, which had + been inserted into holes in the canvas, while a lady in a long, pointed + waist proudly exhibited a pair of enormous mustaches, drawn with charcoal. + The officers ate their breakfast almost in silence in that mutilated room, + which looked dull in the rain and melancholy in its dilapidated condition, + although its old oak floor had become as solid as the stone floor of an + inn. + </p> + <p> + When they had finished eating and were smoking and drinking, they began, + as usual, to berate the dull life they were leading. The bottles of brandy + and of liqueur passed from hand to hand, and all sat back in their chairs + and took repeated sips from their glasses, scarcely removing from their + mouths the long, curved stems, which terminated in china bowls, painted in + a manner to delight a Hottentot. + </p> + <p> + As soon as their glasses were empty they filled them again, with a gesture + of resigned weariness, but Mademoiselle Fifi emptied his every minute, and + a soldier immediately gave him another. They were enveloped in a cloud of + strong tobacco smoke, and seemed to be sunk in a state of drowsy, stupid + intoxication, that condition of stupid intoxication of men who have + nothing to do, when suddenly the baron sat up and said: “Heavens! + This cannot go on; we must think of something to do.” And on hearing + this, Lieutenant Otto and Sub-lieutenant Fritz, who preeminently possessed + the serious, heavy German countenance, said: “What, captain?” + </p> + <p> + He thought for a few moments and then replied: “What? Why, we must + get up some entertainment, if the commandant will allow us.” “What + sort of an entertainment, captain?” the major asked, taking his pipe + out of his mouth. “I will arrange all that, commandant,” the + baron said. “I will send Le Devoir to Rouen, and he will bring back + some ladies. I know where they can be found, We will have supper here, as + all the materials are at hand and; at least, we shall have a jolly + evening.” + </p> + <p> + Graf von Farlsberg shrugged his shoulders with a smile: “You must + surely be mad, my friend.” + </p> + <p> + But all the other officers had risen and surrounded their chief, saying: + “Let the captain have his way, commandant; it is terribly dull here.” + And the major ended by yielding. “Very well,” he replied, and + the baron immediately sent for Le Devoir. He was an old non-commissioned + officer, who had never been seen to smile, but who carried out all the + orders of his superiors to the letter, no matter what they might be. He + stood there, with an impassive face, while he received the baron's + instructions, and then went out, and five minutes later a large military + wagon, covered with tarpaulin, galloped off as fast as four horses could + draw it in the pouring rain. The officers all seemed to awaken from their + lethargy, their looks brightened, and they began to talk. + </p> + <p> + Although it was raining as hard as ever, the major declared that it was + not so dark, and Lieutenant von Grossling said with conviction that the + sky was clearing up, while Mademoiselle Fifi did not seem to be able to + keep still. He got up and sat down again, and his bright eyes seemed to be + looking for something to destroy. Suddenly, looking at the lady with the + mustaches, the young fellow pulled out his revolver and said: “You + shall not see it.” And without leaving his seat he aimed, and with + two successive bullets cut out both the eyes of the portrait. + </p> + <p> + “Let us make a mine!” he then exclaimed, and the conversation + was suddenly interrupted, as if they had found some fresh and powerful + subject of interest. The mine was his invention, his method of + destruction, and his favorite amusement. + </p> + <p> + When he left the chateau, the lawful owner, Comte Fernand d'Amoys + d'Uville, had not had time to carry away or to hide anything except the + plate, which had been stowed away in a hole made in one of the walls. As + he was very rich and had good taste, the large drawing-room, which opened + into the dining-room, looked like a gallery in a museum, before his + precipitate flight. + </p> + <p> + Expensive oil paintings, water colors and drawings hung against the walls, + while on the tables, on the hanging shelves and in elegant glass cupboards + there were a thousand ornaments: small vases, statuettes, groups of + Dresden china and grotesque Chinese figures, old ivory and Venetian glass, + which filled the large room with their costly and fantastic array. + </p> + <p> + Scarcely anything was left now; not that the things had been stolen, for + the major would not have allowed that, but Mademoiselle Fifi would every + now and then have a mine, and on those occasions all the officers + thoroughly enjoyed themselves for five minutes. The little marquis went + into the drawing-room to get what he wanted, and he brought back a small, + delicate china teapot, which he filled with gunpowder, and carefully + introduced a piece of punk through the spout. This he lighted and took his + infernal machine into the next room, but he came back immediately and shut + the door. The Germans all stood expectant, their faces full of childish, + smiling curiosity, and as soon as the explosion had shaken the chateau, + they all rushed in at once. + </p> + <p> + Mademoiselle Fifi, who got in first, clapped his hands in delight at the + sight of a terra-cotta Venus, whose head had been blown off, and each + picked up pieces of porcelain and wondered at the strange shape of the + fragments, while the major was looking with a paternal eye at the large + drawing-room, which had been wrecked after the fashion of a Nero, and was + strewn with the fragments of works of art. He went out first and said with + a smile: “That was a great success this time.” + </p> + <p> + But there was such a cloud of smoke in the dining-room, mingled with the + tobacco smoke, that they could not breathe, so the commandant opened the + window, and all the officers, who had returned for a last glass of cognac, + went up to it. + </p> + <p> + The moist air blew into the room, bringing with it a sort of powdery + spray, which sprinkled their beards. They looked at the tall trees which + were dripping with rain, at the broad valley which was covered with mist, + and at the church spire in the distance, which rose up like a gray point + in the beating rain. + </p> + <p> + The bells had not rung since their arrival. That was the only resistance + which the invaders had met with in the neighborhood. The parish priest had + not refused to take in and to feed the Prussian soldiers; he had several + times even drunk a bottle of beer or claret with the hostile commandant, + who often employed him as a benevolent intermediary; but it was no use to + ask him for a single stroke of the bells; he would sooner have allowed + himself to be shot. That was his way of protesting against the invasion, a + peaceful and silent protest, the only one, he said, which was suitable to + a priest, who was a man of mildness, and not of blood; and every one, for + twenty-five miles round, praised Abbe Chantavoine's firmness and heroism + in venturing to proclaim the public mourning by the obstinate silence of + his church bells. + </p> + <p> + The whole village, enthusiastic at his resistance, was ready to back up + their pastor and to risk anything, for they looked upon that silent + protest as the safeguard of the national honor. It seemed to the peasants + that thus they deserved better of their country than Belfort and + Strassburg, that they had set an equally valuable example, and that the + name of their little village would become immortalized by that; but, with + that exception, they refused their Prussian conquerors nothing. + </p> + <p> + The commandant and his officers laughed among themselves at this + inoffensive courage, and as the people in the whole country round showed + themselves obliging and compliant toward them, they willingly tolerated + their silent patriotism. Little Baron Wilhelm alone would have liked to + have forced them to ring the bells. He was very angry at his superior's + politic compliance with the priest's scruples, and every day begged the + commandant to allow him to sound “ding-dong, ding-dong,” just + once, only just once, just by way of a joke. And he asked it in the + coaxing, tender voice of some loved woman who is bent on obtaining her + wish, but the commandant would not yield, and to console himself, + Mademoiselle Fifi made a mine in the Chateau d'Uville. + </p> + <p> + The five men stood there together for five minutes, breathing in the moist + air, and at last Lieutenant Fritz said with a laugh: “The ladies + will certainly not have fine weather for their drive.” Then they + separated, each to his duty, while the captain had plenty to do in + arranging for the dinner. + </p> + <p> + When they met again toward evening they began to laugh at seeing each + other as spick and span and smart as on the day of a grand review. The + commandant's hair did not look so gray as it was in the morning, and the + captain had shaved, leaving only his mustache, which made him look as if + he had a streak of fire under his nose. + </p> + <p> + In spite of the rain, they left the window open, and one of them went to + listen from time to time; and at a quarter past six the baron said he + heard a rumbling in the distance. They all rushed down, and presently the + wagon drove up at a gallop with its four horses steaming and blowing, and + splashed with mud to their girths. Five women dismounted, five handsome + girls whom a comrade of the captain, to whom Le Devoir had presented his + card, had selected with care. + </p> + <p> + They had not required much pressing, as they had got to know the Prussians + in the three months during which they had had to do with them, and so they + resigned themselves to the men as they did to the state of affairs. + </p> + <p> + They went at once into the dining-room, which looked still more dismal in + its dilapidated condition when it was lighted up; while the table covered + with choice dishes, the beautiful china and glass, and the plate, which + had been found in the hole in the wall where its owner had hidden it, gave + it the appearance of a bandits' inn, where they were supping after + committing a robbery in the place. The captain was radiant, and put his + arm round the women as if he were familiar with them; and when the three + young men wanted to appropriate one each, he opposed them authoritatively, + reserving to himself the right to apportion them justly, according to + their several ranks, so as not to offend the higher powers. Therefore, to + avoid all discussion, jarring, and suspicion of partiality, he placed them + all in a row according to height, and addressing the tallest, he said in a + voice of command: + </p> + <p> + “What is your name?” “Pamela,” she replied, + raising her voice. And then he said: “Number One, called Pamela, is + adjudged to the commandant.” Then, having kissed Blondina, the + second, as a sign of proprietorship, he proffered stout Amanda to + Lieutenant Otto; Eva, “the Tomato,” to Sub-lieutenant Fritz, + and Rachel, the shortest of them all, a very young, dark girl, with eyes + as black as ink, a Jewess, whose snub nose proved the rule which allots + hooked noses to all her race, to the youngest officer, frail Count Wilhelm + d'Eyrick. + </p> + <p> + They were all pretty and plump, without any distinctive features, and all + had a similarity of complexion and figure. + </p> + <p> + The three young men wished to carry off their prizes immediately, under + the pretext that they might wish to freshen their toilets; but the captain + wisely opposed this, for he said they were quite fit to sit down to + dinner, and his experience in such matters carried the day. There were + only many kisses, expectant kisses. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly Rachel choked, and began to cough until the tears came into her + eyes, while smoke came through her nostrils. Under pretence of kissing + her, the count had blown a whiff of tobacco into her mouth. She did not + fly into a rage and did not say a word, but she looked at her tormentor + with latent hatred in her dark eyes. + </p> + <p> + They sat down to dinner. The commandant seemed delighted; he made Pamela + sit on his right, and Blondina on his left, and said, as he unfolded his + table napkin: “That was a delightful idea of yours, captain.” + </p> + <p> + Lieutenants Otto and Fritz, who were as polite as if they had been with + fashionable ladies, rather intimidated their guests, but Baron von + Kelweinstein beamed, made obscene remarks and seemed on fire with his + crown of red hair. He paid the women compliments in French of the Rhine, + and sputtered out gallant remarks, only fit for a low pothouse, from + between his two broken teeth. + </p> + <p> + They did not understand him, however, and their intelligence did not seem + to be awakened until he uttered foul words and broad expressions, which + were mangled by his accent. Then they all began to laugh at once like + crazy women and fell against each other, repeating the words, which the + baron then began to say all wrong, in order that he might have the + pleasure of hearing them say dirty things. They gave him as much of that + stuff as he wanted, for they were drunk after the first bottle of wine, + and resuming their usual habits and manners, they kissed the officers to + right and left of them, pinched their arms, uttered wild cries, drank out + of every glass and sang French couplets and bits of German songs which + they had picked up in their daily intercourse with the enemy. + </p> + <p> + Soon the men themselves became very unrestrained, shouted and broke the + plates and dishes, while the soldiers behind them waited on them stolidly. + The commandant was the only one who kept any restraint upon himself. + </p> + <p> + Mademoiselle Fifi had taken Rachel on his knee, and, getting excited, at + one moment he kissed the little black curls on her neck and at another he + pinched her furiously and made her scream, for he was seized by a species + of ferocity, and tormented by his desire to hurt her. He often held her + close to him and pressed a long kiss on the Jewess' rosy mouth until she + lost her breath, and at last he bit her until a stream of blood ran down + her chin and on to her bodice. + </p> + <p> + For the second time she looked him full in the face, and as she bathed the + wound, she said: “You will have to pay for, that!” But he + merely laughed a hard laugh and said: “I will pay.” + </p> + <p> + At dessert champagne was served, and the commandant rose, and in the same + voice in which he would have drunk to the health of the Empress Augusta, + he drank: “To our ladies!” And a series of toasts began, + toasts worthy of the lowest soldiers and of drunkards, mingled with + obscene jokes, which were made still more brutal by their ignorance of the + language. They got up, one after the other, trying to say something witty, + forcing themselves to be funny, and the women, who were so drunk that they + almost fell off their chairs, with vacant looks and clammy tongues + applauded madly each time. + </p> + <p> + The captain, who no doubt wished to impart an appearance of gallantry to + the orgy, raised his glass again and said: “To our victories over + hearts.” and, thereupon Lieutenant Otto, who was a species of bear + from the Black Forest, jumped up, inflamed and saturated with drink, and + suddenly seized by an access of alcoholic patriotism, he cried: “To + our victories over France!” + </p> + <p> + Drunk as they were, the women were silent, but Rachel turned round, + trembling, and said: “See here, I know some Frenchmen in whose + presence you would not dare say that.” But the little count, still + holding her on his knee, began to laugh, for the wine had made him very + merry, and said: “Ha! ha! ha! I have never met any of them myself. + As soon as we show ourselves, they run away!” The girl, who was in a + terrible rage, shouted into his face: “You are lying, you dirty + scoundrel!” + </p> + <p> + For a moment he looked at her steadily with his bright eyes upon her, as + he had looked at the portrait before he destroyed it with bullets from his + revolver, and then he began to laugh: “Ah! yes, talk about them, my + dear! Should we be here now if they were brave?” And, getting + excited, he exclaimed: “We are the masters! France belongs to us!” + She made one spring from his knee and threw herself into her chair, while + he arose, held out his glass over the table and repeated: “France + and the French, the woods, the fields and the houses of France belong to + us!” + </p> + <p> + The others, who were quite drunk, and who were suddenly seized by military + enthusiasm, the enthusiasm of brutes, seized their glasses, and shouting, + “Long live Prussia!” they emptied them at a draught. + </p> + <p> + The girls did not protest, for they were reduced to silence and were + afraid. Even Rachel did not say a word, as she had no reply to make. Then + the little marquis put his champagne glass, which had just been refilled, + on the head of the Jewess and exclaimed: “All the women in France + belong to us also!” + </p> + <p> + At that she got up so quickly that the glass upset, spilling the + amber-colored wine on her black hair as if to baptize her, and broke into + a hundred fragments, as it fell to the floor. Her lips trembling, she + defied the looks of the officer, who was still laughing, and stammered out + in a voice choked with rage: + </p> + <p> + “That—that—that—is not true—for you shall + not have the women of France!” + </p> + <p> + He sat down again so as to laugh at his ease; and, trying to speak with + the Parisian accent, he said: “She is good, very good! Then why did + you come here, my dear?” She was thunderstruck and made no reply for + a moment, for in her agitation she did not understand him at first, but as + soon as she grasped his meaning she said to him indignantly and + vehemently: “I! I! I am not a woman, I am only a strumpet, and that + is all that Prussians want.” + </p> + <p> + Almost before she had finished he slapped her full in the face; but as he + was raising his hand again, as if to strike her, she seized a small + dessert knife with a silver blade from the table and, almost mad with + rage, stabbed him right in the hollow of his neck. Something that he was + going to say was cut short in his throat, and he sat there with his mouth + half open and a terrible look in his eyes. + </p> + <p> + All the officers shouted in horror and leaped up tumultuously; but, + throwing her chair between the legs of Lieutenant Otto, who fell down at + full length, she ran to the window, opened it before they could seize her + and jumped out into the night and the pouring rain. + </p> + <p> + In two minutes Mademoiselle Fifi was dead, and Fritz and Otto drew their + swords and wanted to kill the women, who threw themselves at their feet + and clung to their knees. With some difficulty the major stopped the + slaughter and had the four terrified girls locked up in a room under the + care of two soldiers, and then he organized the pursuit of the fugitive as + carefully as if he were about to engage in a skirmish, feeling quite sure + that she would be caught. + </p> + <p> + The table, which had been cleared immediately, now served as a bed on + which to lay out the lieutenant, and the four officers stood at the + windows, rigid and sobered with the stern faces of soldiers on duty, and + tried to pierce through the darkness of the night amid the steady torrent + of rain. Suddenly a shot was heard and then another, a long way off; and + for four hours they heard from time to time near or distant reports and + rallying cries, strange words of challenge, uttered in guttural voices. + </p> + <p> + In the morning they all returned. Two soldiers had been killed and three + others wounded by their comrades in the ardor of that chase and in the + confusion of that nocturnal pursuit, but they had not caught Rachel. + </p> + <p> + Then the inhabitants of the district were terrorized, the houses were + turned topsy-turvy, the country was scoured and beaten up, over and over + again, but the Jewess did not seem to have left a single trace of her + passage behind her. + </p> + <p> + When the general was told of it he gave orders to hush up the affair, so + as not to set a bad example to the army, but he severely censured the + commandant, who in turn punished his inferiors. The general had said: + “One does not go to war in order to amuse one's self and to caress + prostitutes.” Graf von Farlsberg, in his exasperation, made up his + mind to have his revenge on the district, but as he required a pretext for + showing severity, he sent for the priest and ordered him to have the bell + tolled at the funeral of Baron von Eyrick. + </p> + <p> + Contrary to all expectation, the priest showed himself humble and most + respectful, and when Mademoiselle Fifi's body left the Chateau d'Uville on + its way to the cemetery, carried by soldiers, preceded, surrounded and + followed by soldiers who marched with loaded rifles, for the first time + the bell sounded its funeral knell in a lively manner, as if a friendly + hand were caressing it. At night it rang again, and the next day, and + every day; it rang as much as any one could desire. Sometimes even it + would start at night and sound gently through the darkness, seized with a + strange joy, awakened one could not tell why. All the peasants in the + neighborhood declared that it was bewitched, and nobody except the priest + and the sacristan would now go near the church tower. And they went + because a poor girl was living there in grief and solitude and provided + for secretly by those two men. + </p> + <p> + She remained there until the German troops departed, and then one evening + the priest borrowed the baker's cart and himself drove his prisoner to + Rouen. When they got there he embraced her, and she quickly went back on + foot to the establishment from which she had come, where the proprietress, + who thought that she was dead, was very glad to see her. + </p> + <p> + A short time afterward a patriot who had no prejudices, and who liked her + because of her bold deed, and who afterward loved her for herself, married + her and made her a lady quite as good as many others. + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + A DUEL + </h2> + <p> + The war was over. The Germans occupied France. The whole country was + pulsating like a conquered wrestler beneath the knee of his victorious + opponent. + </p> + <p> + The first trains from Paris, distracted, starving, despairing Paris, were + making their way to the new frontiers, slowly passing through the country + districts and the villages. The passengers gazed through the windows at + the ravaged fields and burned hamlets. Prussian soldiers, in their black + helmets with brass spikes, were smoking their pipes astride their chairs + in front of the houses which were still left standing. Others were working + or talking just as if they were members of the families. As you passed + through the different towns you saw entire regiments drilling in the + squares, and, in spite of the rumble of the carriage-wheels, you could + every moment hear the hoarse words of command. + </p> + <p> + M. Dubuis, who during the entire siege had served as one of the National + Guard in Paris, was going to join his wife and daughter, whom he had + prudently sent away to Switzerland before the invasion. + </p> + <p> + Famine and hardship had not diminished his big paunch so characteristic of + the rich, peace-loving merchant. He had gone through the terrible events + of the past year with sorrowful resignation and bitter complaints at the + savagery of men. Now that he was journeying to the frontier at the close + of the war, he saw the Prussians for the first time, although he had done + his duty on the ramparts and mounted guard on many a cold night. + </p> + <p> + He stared with mingled fear and anger at those bearded armed men, + installed all over French soil as if they were at home, and he felt in his + soul a kind of fever of impotent patriotism, at the same time also the + great need of that new instinct of prudence which since then has, never + left us. In the same railway carriage were two Englishmen, who had come to + the country as sightseers and were gazing about them with looks of quiet + curiosity. They were both also stout, and kept chatting in their own + language, sometimes referring to their guidebook, and reading aloud the + names of the places indicated. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly the train stopped at a little village station, and a Prussian + officer jumped up with a great clatter of his sabre on the double + footboard of the railway carriage. He was tall, wore a tight-fitting + uniform, and had whiskers up to his eyes. His red hair seemed to be on + fire, and his long mustache, of a paler hue, stuck out on both sides of + his face, which it seemed to cut in two. + </p> + <p> + The Englishmen at once began staring at him, with smiles of newly awakened + interest, while M. Dubuis made a show of reading a newspaper. He sat + concealed in his corner like a thief in presence of a gendarme. + </p> + <p> + The train started again. The Englishmen went on chatting and looking out + for the exact scene of different battles; and all of a sudden, as one of + them stretched out his arm toward the horizon as he pointed out a village, + the Prussian officer remarked in French, extending his long legs and + lolling backward: + </p> + <p> + “I killed a dozen Frenchmen in that village and took more than a + hundred prisoners.” + </p> + <p> + The Englishmen, quite interested, immediately asked: + </p> + <p> + “Ha! and what is the name of this village?” + </p> + <p> + The Prussian replied: + </p> + <p> + “Pharsbourg.” He added: “We caught those French + scoundrels by the ears.” + </p> + <p> + And he glanced toward M. Dubuis, laughing conceitedly into his mustache. + </p> + <p> + The train rolled on, still passing through hamlets occupied by the + victorious army. German soldiers could be seen along the roads, on the + edges of fields, standing in front of gates or chatting outside cafes. + They covered the soil like African locusts. + </p> + <p> + The officer said, with a wave of his hand: + </p> + <p> + “If I had been in command, I'd have taken Paris, burned everything, + killed everybody. No more France!” + </p> + <p> + The Englishman, through politeness, replied simply: + </p> + <p> + “Ah! yes.” + </p> + <p> + He went on: + </p> + <p> + “In twenty years all Europe, all of it, will belong to us. Prussia + is more than a match for all of them.” + </p> + <p> + The Englishmen, getting uneasy, no longer replied. Their faces, which had + become impassive, seemed made of wax behind their long whiskers. Then the + Prussian officer began to laugh. And still, lolling back, he began to + sneer. He sneered at the downfall of France, insulted the prostrate enemy; + he sneered at Austria, which had been recently conquered; he sneered at + the valiant but fruitless defence of the departments; he sneered at the + Garde Mobile and at the useless artillery. He announced that Bismarck was + going to build a city of iron with the captured cannon. And suddenly he + placed his boots against the thigh of M. Dubuis, who turned away his eyes, + reddening to the roots of his hair. + </p> + <p> + The Englishmen seemed to have become indifferent to all that was going on, + as if they were suddenly shut up in their own island, far from the din of + the world. + </p> + <p> + The officer took out his pipe, and looking fixedly at the Frenchman, said: + </p> + <p> + “You haven't any tobacco—have you?” + </p> + <p> + M. Dubuis replied: + </p> + <p> + “No, monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + The German resumed: + </p> + <p> + “You might go and buy some for me when the train stops.” + </p> + <p> + And he began laughing afresh as he added: + </p> + <p> + “I'll give you the price of a drink.” + </p> + <p> + The train whistled, and slackened its pace. They passed a station that had + been burned down; and then they stopped altogether. + </p> + <p> + The German opened the carriage door, and, catching M. Dubuis by the arm, + said: + </p> + <p> + “Go and do what I told you—quick, quick!” + </p> + <p> + A Prussian detachment occupied the station. Other soldiers were standing + behind wooden gratings, looking on. The engine was getting up steam before + starting off again. Then M. Dubuis hurriedly jumped on the platform, and, + in spite of the warnings of the station master, dashed into the adjoining + compartment. + </p> + <p> + He was alone! He tore open his waistcoat, his heart was beating so + rapidly, and, gasping for breath, he wiped the perspiration from his + forehead. + </p> + <p> + The train drew up at another station. And suddenly the officer appeared at + the carriage door and jumped in, followed close behind by the two + Englishmen, who were impelled by curiosity. The German sat facing the + Frenchman, and, laughing still, said: + </p> + <p> + “You did not want to do what I asked you?” + </p> + <p> + M. Dubuis replied: + </p> + <p> + “No, monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + The train had just left the station. + </p> + <p> + The officer said: + </p> + <p> + “I'll cut off your mustache to fill my pipe with.” + </p> + <p> + And he put out his hand toward the Frenchman's face. + </p> + <p> + The Englishmen stared at them, retaining their previous impassive manner. + </p> + <p> + The German had already pulled out a few hairs, and was still tugging at + the mustache, when M. Dubuis, with a back stroke of his hand, flung aside + the officer's arm, and, seizing him by the collar, threw him down on the + seat. Then, excited to a pitch of fury, his temples swollen and his eyes + glaring, he kept throttling the officer with one hand, while with the + other clenched he began to strike him violent blows in the face. The + Prussian struggled, tried to draw his sword, to clinch with his adversary, + who was on top of him. But M. Dubuis crushed him with his enormous weight + and kept punching him without taking breath or knowing where his blows + fell. Blood flowed down the face of the German, who, choking and with a + rattling in his throat, spat out his broken teeth and vainly strove to + shake off this infuriated man who was killing him. + </p> + <p> + The Englishmen had got on their feet and came closer in order to see + better. They remained standing, full of mirth and curiosity, ready to bet + for, or against, either combatant. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly M. Dubuis, exhausted by his violent efforts, rose and resumed his + seat without uttering a word. + </p> + <p> + The Prussian did not attack him, for the savage assault had terrified and + astonished the officer as well as causing him suffering. When he was able + to breathe freely, he said: + </p> + <p> + “Unless you give me satisfaction with pistols I will kill you.” + </p> + <p> + M. Dubuis replied: + </p> + <p> + “Whenever you like. I'm quite ready.” + </p> + <p> + The German said: + </p> + <p> + “Here is the town of Strasbourg. I'll get two officers to be my + seconds, and there will be time before the train leaves the station.” + </p> + <p> + M. Dubuis, who was puffing as hard as the engine, said to the Englishmen: + </p> + <p> + “Will you be my seconds?” They both answered together: + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes!” + </p> + <p> + And the train stopped. + </p> + <p> + In a minute the Prussian had found two comrades, who brought pistols, and + they made their way toward the ramparts. + </p> + <p> + The Englishmen were continually looking at their watches, shuffling their + feet and hurrying on with the preparations, uneasy lest they should be too + late for the train. + </p> + <p> + M. Dubuis had never fired a pistol in his life. + </p> + <p> + They made him stand twenty paces away from his enemy. He was asked: + </p> + <p> + “Are you ready?” + </p> + <p> + While he was answering, “Yes, monsieur,” he noticed that one + of the Englishmen had opened his umbrella in order to keep off the rays of + the sun. + </p> + <p> + A voice gave the signal: + </p> + <p> + “Fire!” + </p> + <p> + M. Dubuis fired at random without delay, and he was amazed to see the + Prussian opposite him stagger, lift up his arms and fall forward, dead. He + had killed the officer. + </p> + <p> + One of the Englishmen exclaimed: “Ah!” He was quivering with + delight, with satisfied curiosity and joyous impatience. The other, who + still kept his watch in his hand, seized M. Dubuis' arm and hurried him in + double-quick time toward the station, his fellow-countryman marking time + as he ran beside them, with closed fists, his elbows at his sides, “One, + two; one, two!” + </p> + <p> + And all three, running abreast rapidly, made their way to the station like + three grotesque figures in a comic newspaper. + </p> + <p> + The train was on the point of starting. They sprang into their carriage. + Then the Englishmen, taking off their travelling caps, waved them three + times over their heads, exclaiming: + </p> + <p> + “Hip! hip! hip! hurrah!” + </p> + <p> + And gravely, one after the other, they extended their right hands to M. + Dubuis and then went back and sat down in their own corner. + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + ORIGINAL SHORT STORIES, Vol. 2. + </h2> +<div class='pre'> + GUY DE MAUPASSANT + ORIGINAL SHORT STORIES + Translated by + ALBERT M. C. McMASTER, B.A. + A. E. HENDERSON, B.A. + MME. QUESADA and Others +</div> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0016"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + VOLUME II. + </h2> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0017"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + THE COLONEL'S IDEAS + </h2> + <p> + “Upon my word,” said Colonel Laporte, “although I am old + and gouty, my legs as stiff as two pieces of wood, yet if a pretty woman + were to tell me to go through the eye of a needle, I believe I should take + a jump at it, like a clown through a hoop. I shall die like that; it is in + the blood. I am an old beau, one of the old school, and the sight of a + woman, a pretty woman, stirs me to the tips of my toes. There! + </p> + <p> + “We are all very much alike in France in this respect; we still + remain knights, knights of love and fortune, since God has been abolished + whose bodyguard we really were. But nobody can ever get woman out of our + hearts; there she is, and there she will remain, and we love her, and + shall continue to love her, and go on committing all kinds of follies on + her account as long as there is a France on the map of Europe; and even if + France were to be wiped off the map, there would always be Frenchmen left. + </p> + <p> + “When I am in the presence of a woman, of a pretty woman, I feel + capable of anything. By Jove! when I feel her looks penetrating me, her + confounded looks which set your blood on fire, I should like to do I don't + know what; to fight a duel, to have a row, to smash the furniture, in + order to show that I am the strongest, the bravest, the most daring and + the most devoted of men. + </p> + <p> + “But I am not the only one, certainly not; the whole French army is + like me, I swear to you. From the common soldier to the general, we all + start out, from the van to the rear guard, when there is a woman in the + case, a pretty woman. Do you remember what Joan of Arc made us do + formerly? Come. I will make a bet that if a pretty woman had taken command + of the army on the eve of Sedan, when Marshal MacMahon was wounded, we + should have broken through the Prussian lines, by Jove! and had a drink + out of their guns. + </p> + <p> + “It was not a Trochu, but a Sainte-Genevieve, who was needed in + Paris; and I remember a little anecdote of the war which proves that we + are capable of everything in presence of a woman. + </p> + <p> + “I was a captain, a simple captain, at the time, and I was in + command of a detachment of scouts, who were retreating through a district + which swarmed with Prussians. We were surrounded, pursued, tired out and + half dead with fatigue and hunger, but we were bound to reach Bar-sur-Tain + before the morrow, otherwise we should be shot, cut down, massacred. I do + not know how we managed to escape so far. However, we had ten leagues to + go during the night, ten leagues through the night, ten leagues through + the snow, and with empty stomachs, and I thought to myself: + </p> + <p> + “'It is all over; my poor devils of fellows will never be able to do + it.' + </p> + <p> + “We had eaten nothing since the day before, and the whole day long + we remained hidden in a barn, huddled close together, so as not to feel + the cold so much, unable to speak or even move, and sleeping by fits and + starts, as one does when worn out with fatigue. + </p> + <p> + “It was dark by five o'clock, that wan darkness of the snow, and I + shook my men. Some of them would not get up; they were almost incapable of + moving or of standing upright; their joints were stiff from cold and + hunger. + </p> + <p> + “Before us there was a large expanse of flat, bare country; the snow + was still falling like a curtain, in large, white flakes, which concealed + everything under a thick, frozen coverlet, a coverlet of frozen wool One + might have thought that it was the end of the world. + </p> + <p> + “'Come, my lads, let us start.' + </p> + <p> + “They looked at the thick white flakes that were coming down, and + they seemed to think: 'We have had enough of this; we may just as well die + here!' Then I took out my revolver and said: + </p> + <p> + “'I will shoot the first man who flinches.' And so they set off, but + very slowly, like men whose legs were of very little use to them, and I + sent four of them three hundred yards ahead to scout, and the others + followed pell-mell, walking at random and without any order. I put the + strongest in the rear, with orders to quicken the pace of the sluggards + with the points of their bayonets in the back. + </p> + <p> + “The snow seemed as if it were going to bury us alive; it powdered + our kepis and cloaks without melting, and made phantoms of us, a kind of + spectres of dead, weary soldiers. I said to myself: 'We shall never get + out of this except by a miracle.' + </p> + <p> + “Sometimes we had to stop for a few minutes, on account of those who + could not follow us, and then we heard nothing except the falling snow, + that vague, almost undiscernible sound made by the falling flakes. Some of + the men shook themselves, others did not move, and so I gave the order to + set off again. They shouldered their rifles, and with weary feet we + resumed our march, when suddenly the scouts fell back. Something had + alarmed them; they had heard voices in front of them. I sent forward six + men and a sergeant and waited. + </p> + <p> + “All at once a shrill cry, a woman's cry, pierced through the heavy + silence of the snow, and in a few minutes they brought back two prisoners, + an old man and a girl, whom I questioned in a low voice. They were + escaping from the Prussians, who had occupied their house during the + evening and had got drunk. The father was alarmed on his daughter's + account, and, without even telling their servants, they had made their + escape in the darkness. I saw immediately that they belonged to the better + class. I invited them to accompany us, and we started off again, the old + man who knew the road acting as our guide. + </p> + <p> + “It had ceased snowing, the stars appeared and the cold became + intense. The girl, who was leaning on her father's arm, walked unsteadily + as though in pain, and several times she murmured: + </p> + <p> + “'I have no feeling at all in my feet'; and I suffered more than she + did to see that poor little woman dragging herself like that through the + snow. But suddenly she stopped and said: + </p> + <p> + “'Father, I am so tired that I cannot go any further.' + </p> + <p> + “The old man wanted to carry her, but he could not even lift her up, + and she sank to the ground with a deep sigh. We all gathered round her, + and, as for me, I stamped my foot in perplexity, not knowing what to do, + and being unwilling to abandon that man and girl like that, when suddenly + one of the soldiers, a Parisian whom they had nicknamed Pratique, said: + </p> + <p> + “'Come, comrades, we must carry the young lady, otherwise we shall + not show ourselves Frenchmen, confound it!' + </p> + <p> + “I really believe that I swore with pleasure. 'That is very good of + you, my children,' I said; 'and I will take my share of the burden.' + </p> + <p> + “We could indistinctly see, through the darkness, the trees of a + little wood on the left. Several of the men went into it, and soon came + back with a bundle of branches made into a litter. + </p> + <p> + “'Who will lend his cape? It is for a pretty girl, comrades,' + Pratique said, and ten cloaks were thrown to him. In a moment the girl was + lying, warm and comfortable, among them, and was raised upon six + shoulders. I placed myself at their head, on the right, well pleased with + my position. + </p> + <p> + “We started off much more briskly, as if we had had a drink of wine, + and I even heard some jokes. A woman is quite enough to electrify + Frenchmen, you see. The soldiers, who had become cheerful and warm, had + almost reformed their ranks, and an old 'franc-tireur' who was following + the litter, waiting for his turn to replace the first of his comrades who + might give out, said to one of his neighbors, loud enough for me to hear: + “'I am not a young man now, but by—-, there is nothing like + the women to put courage into you!' + </p> + <p> + “We went on, almost without stopping, until three o'clock in the + morning, when suddenly our scouts fell back once more, and soon the whole + detachment showed nothing but a vague shadow on the ground, as the men lay + on the snow. I gave my orders in a low voice, and heard the harsh, + metallic sound of the cocking, of rifles. For there, in the middle of the + plain, some strange object was moving about. It looked like some enormous + animal running about, now stretching out like a serpent, now coiling + itself into a ball, darting to the right, then to the left, then stopping, + and presently starting off again. But presently that wandering shape came + nearer, and I saw a dozen lancers at full gallop, one behind the other. + They had lost their way and were trying to find it. + </p> + <p> + “They were so near by that time that I could hear the loud breathing + of their horses, the clinking of their swords and the creaking of their + saddles, and cried: 'Fire!' + </p> + <p> + “Fifty rifle shots broke the stillness of the night, then there were + four or five reports, and at last one single shot was heard, and when the + smoke had cleared away, we saw that the twelve men and nine horses had + fallen. Three of the animals were galloping away at a furious pace, and + one of them was dragging the dead body of its rider, which rebounded + violently from the ground; his foot had caught in the stirrup. + </p> + <p> + “One of the soldiers behind me gave a terrible laugh and said: + 'There will be some widows there!' + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps he was married. A third added: 'It did not take long!' + </p> + <p> + “A head emerged from the litter. + </p> + <p> + “'What is the matter?' she asked; 'are you fighting?' + </p> + <p> + “'It is nothing, mademoiselle,' I replied; 'we have got rid of a + dozen Prussians!' + </p> + <p> + “'Poor fellows!' she said. But as she was cold, she quickly + disappeared beneath the cloaks again, and we started off once more. We + marched on for a long time, and at last the sky began to grow lighter. The + snow became quite clear, luminous and glistening, and a rosy tint appeared + in the east. Suddenly a voice in the distance cried: + </p> + <p> + “'Who goes there?' + </p> + <p> + “The whole detachment halted, and I advanced to give the + countersign. We had reached the French lines, and, as my men defiled + before the outpost, a commandant on horseback, whom I had informed of what + had taken place, asked in a sonorous voice, as he saw the litter pass him: + 'What have you in there?' + </p> + <p> + “And immediately a small head covered with light hair appeared, + dishevelled and smiling, and replied: + </p> + <p> + “'It is I, monsieur.' + </p> + <p> + “At this the men raised a hearty laugh, and we felt quite + light-hearted, while Pratique, who was walking by the side of the litter, + waved his kepi and shouted: + </p> + <p> + “'Vive la France!' And I felt really affected. I do not know why, + except that I thought it a pretty and gallant thing to say. + </p> + <p> + “It seemed to me as if we had just saved the whole of France and had + done something that other men could not have done, something simple and + really patriotic. I shall never forget that little face, you may be sure; + and if I had to give my opinion about abolishing drums, trumpets and + bugles, I should propose to replace them in every regiment by a pretty + girl, and that would be even better than playing the 'Marseillaise: By + Jove! it would put some spirit into a trooper to have a Madonna like that, + a live Madonna, by the colonel's side.” + </p> + <p> + He was silent for a few moments and then continued, with an air of + conviction, and nodding his head: + </p> + <p> + “All the same, we are very fond of women, we Frenchmen!” + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0018"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + MOTHER SAUVAGE + </h2> + <p> + Fifteen years had passed since I was at Virelogne. I returned there in the + autumn to shoot with my friend Serval, who had at last rebuilt his + chateau, which the Prussians had destroyed. + </p> + <p> + I loved that district. It is one of those delightful spots which have a + sensuous charm for the eyes. You love it with a physical love. We, whom + the country enchants, keep tender memories of certain springs, certain + woods, certain pools, certain hills seen very often which have stirred us + like joyful events. Sometimes our thoughts turn back to a corner in a + forest, or the end of a bank, or an orchard filled with flowers, seen but + a single time on some bright day, yet remaining in our hearts like the + image of certain women met in the street on a spring morning in their + light, gauzy dresses, leaving in soul and body an unsatisfied desire which + is not to be forgotten, a feeling that you have just passed by happiness. + </p> + <p> + At Virelogne I loved the whole countryside, dotted with little woods and + crossed by brooks which sparkled in the sun and looked like veins carrying + blood to the earth. You fished in them for crawfish, trout and eels. + Divine happiness! You could bathe in places and you often found snipe + among the high grass which grew along the borders of these small water + courses. + </p> + <p> + I was stepping along light as a goat, watching my two dogs running ahead + of me, Serval, a hundred metres to my right, was beating a field of + lucerne. I turned round by the thicket which forms the boundary of the + wood of Sandres and I saw a cottage in ruins. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly I remembered it as I had seen it the last time, in 1869, neat, + covered with vines, with chickens before the door. What is sadder than a + dead house, with its skeleton standing bare and sinister? + </p> + <p> + I also recalled that inside its doors, after a very tiring day, the good + woman had given me a glass of wine to drink and that Serval had told me + the history of its people. The father, an old poacher, had been killed by + the gendarmes. The son, whom I had once seen, was a tall, dry fellow who + also passed for a fierce slayer of game. People called them “Les + Sauvage.” + </p> + <p> + Was that a name or a nickname? + </p> + <p> + I called to Serval. He came up with his long strides like a crane. + </p> + <p> + I asked him: + </p> + <p> + “What's become of those people?” + </p> + <p> + This was his story: + </p> + <p> + When war was declared the son Sauvage, who was then thirty-three years + old, enlisted, leaving his mother alone in the house. People did not pity + the old woman very much because she had money; they knew it. + </p> + <p> + She remained entirely alone in that isolated dwelling, so far from the + village, on the edge of the wood. She was not afraid, however, being of + the same strain as the men folk—a hardy old woman, tall and thin, + who seldom laughed and with whom one never jested. The women of the fields + laugh but little in any case, that is men's business. But they themselves + have sad and narrowed hearts, leading a melancholy, gloomy life. The + peasants imbibe a little noisy merriment at the tavern, but their + helpmates always have grave, stern countenances. The muscles of their + faces have never learned the motions of laughter. + </p> + <p> + Mother Sauvage continued her ordinary existence in her cottage, which was + soon covered by the snows. She came to the village once a week to get + bread and a little meat. Then she returned to her house. As there was talk + of wolves, she went out with a gun upon her shoulder—her son's gun, + rusty and with the butt worn by the rubbing of the hand—and she was + a strange sight, the tall “Sauvage,” a little bent, going with + slow strides over the snow, the muzzle of the piece extending beyond the + black headdress, which confined her head and imprisoned her white hair, + which no one had ever seen. + </p> + <p> + One day a Prussian force arrived. It was billeted upon the inhabitants, + according to the property and resources of each. Four were allotted to the + old woman, who was known to be rich. + </p> + <p> + They were four great fellows with fair complexion, blond beards and blue + eyes, who had not grown thin in spite of the fatigue which they had + endured already and who also, though in a conquered country, had remained + kind and gentle. Alone with this aged woman, they showed themselves full + of consideration, sparing her, as much as they could, all expense and + fatigue. They could be seen, all four of them, making their toilet at the + well in their shirt-sleeves in the gray dawn, splashing with great swishes + of water their pink-white northern skin, while La Mere Sauvage went and + came, preparing their soup. They would be seen cleaning the kitchen, + rubbing the tiles, splitting wood, peeling potatoes, doing up all the + housework like four good sons around their mother. + </p> + <p> + But the old woman thought always of her own son, so tall and thin, with + his hooked nose and his brown eyes and his heavy mustache which made a + roll of black hair upon his lip. She asked every day of each of the + soldiers who were installed beside her hearth: “Do you know where + the French marching regiment, No. 23, was sent? My boy is in it.” + </p> + <p> + They invariably answered, “No, we don't know, don't know a thing at + all.” And, understanding her pain and her uneasiness—they who + had mothers, too, there at home—they rendered her a thousand little + services. She loved them well, moreover, her four enemies, since the + peasantry have no patriotic hatred; that belongs to the upper class alone. + The humble, those who pay the most because they are poor and because every + new burden crushes them down; those who are killed in masses, who make the + true cannon's prey because they are so many; those, in fine, who suffer + most cruelly the atrocious miseries of war because they are the feeblest + and offer least resistance—they hardly understand at all those + bellicose ardors, that excitable sense of honor or those pretended + political combinations which in six months exhaust two nations, the + conqueror with the conquered. + </p> + <p> + They said in the district, in speaking of the Germans of La Mere Sauvage: + </p> + <p> + “There are four who have found a soft place.” + </p> + <p> + Now, one morning, when the old woman was alone in the house, she observed, + far off on the plain, a man coming toward her dwelling. Soon she + recognized him; it was the postman to distribute the letters. He gave her + a folded paper and she drew out of her case the spectacles which she used + for sewing. Then she read: + </p> +<div class='pre'> + MADAME SAUVAGE: This letter is to tell you sad news. Your boy + Victor was killed yesterday by a shell which almost cut him in two. + I was near by, as we stood next each other in the company, and he + told me about you and asked me to let you know on the same day if + anything happened to him. + + I took his watch, which was in his pocket, to bring it back to you + when the war is done. + CESAIRE RIVOT, + + Soldier of the 2d class, March. Reg. No. 23. +</div> + <p> + The letter was dated three weeks back. + </p> + <p> + She did not cry at all. She remained motionless, so overcome and stupefied + that she did not even suffer as yet. She thought: “There's Victor + killed now.” Then little by little the tears came to her eyes and + the sorrow filled her heart. Her thoughts came, one by one, dreadful, + torturing. She would never kiss him again, her child, her big boy, never + again! The gendarmes had killed the father, the Prussians had killed the + son. He had been cut in two by a cannon-ball. She seemed to see the thing, + the horrible thing: the head falling, the eyes open, while he chewed the + corner of his big mustache as he always did in moments of anger. + </p> + <p> + What had they done with his body afterward? If they had only let her have + her boy back as they had brought back her husband—with the bullet in + the middle of the forehead! + </p> + <p> + But she heard a noise of voices. It was the Prussians returning from the + village. She hid her letter very quickly in her pocket, and she received + them quietly, with her ordinary face, having had time to wipe her eyes. + </p> + <p> + They were laughing, all four, delighted, for they brought with them a fine + rabbit—stolen, doubtless—and they made signs to the old woman + that there was to be something good to east. + </p> + <p> + She set herself to work at once to prepare breakfast, but when it came to + killing the rabbit, her heart failed her. And yet it was not the first. + One of the soldiers struck it down with a blow of his fist behind the + ears. + </p> + <p> + The beast once dead, she skinned the red body, but the sight of the blood + which she was touching, and which covered her hands, and which she felt + cooling and coagulating, made her tremble from head to foot, and she kept + seeing her big boy cut in two, bloody, like this still palpitating animal. + </p> + <p> + She sat down at table with the Prussians, but she could not eat, not even + a mouthful. They devoured the rabbit without bothering themselves about + her. She looked at them sideways, without speaking, her face so impassive + that they perceived nothing. + </p> + <p> + All of a sudden she said: “I don't even know your names, and here's + a whole month that we've been together.” They understood, not + without difficulty, what she wanted, and told their names. + </p> + <p> + That was not sufficient; she had them written for her on a paper, with the + addresses of their families, and, resting her spectacles on her great + nose, she contemplated that strange handwriting, then folded the sheet and + put it in her pocket, on top of the letter which told her of the death of + her son. + </p> + <p> + When the meal was ended she said to the men: + </p> + <p> + “I am going to work for you.” + </p> + <p> + And she began to carry up hay into the loft where they slept. + </p> + <p> + They were astonished at her taking all this trouble; she explained to them + that thus they would not be so cold; and they helped her. They heaped the + stacks of hay as high as the straw roof, and in that manner they made a + sort of great chamber with four walls of fodder, warm and perfumed, where + they should sleep splendidly. + </p> + <p> + At dinner one of them was worried to see that La Mere Sauvage still ate + nothing. She told him that she had pains in her stomach. Then she kindled + a good fire to warm herself, and the four Germans ascended to their + lodging-place by the ladder which served them every night for this + purpose. + </p> + <p> + As soon as they closed the trapdoor the old woman removed the ladder, then + opened the outside door noiselessly and went back to look for more bundles + of straw, with which she filled her kitchen. She went barefoot in the + snow, so softly that no sound was heard. From time to time she listened to + the sonorous and unequal snoring of the four soldiers who were fast + asleep. + </p> + <p> + When she judged her preparations to be sufficient, she threw one of the + bundles into the fireplace, and when it was alight she scattered it over + all the others. Then she went outside again and looked. + </p> + <p> + In a few seconds the whole interior of the cottage was illumined with a + brilliant light and became a frightful brasier, a gigantic fiery furnace, + whose glare streamed out of the narrow window and threw a glittering beam + upon the snow. + </p> + <p> + Then a great cry issued from the top of the house; it was a clamor of men + shouting heartrending calls of anguish and of terror. Finally the trapdoor + having given way, a whirlwind of fire shot up into the loft, pierced the + straw roof, rose to the sky like the immense flame of a torch, and all the + cottage flared. + </p> + <p> + Nothing more was heard therein but the crackling of the fire, the cracking + of the walls, the falling of the rafters. Suddenly the roof fell in and + the burning carcass of the dwelling hurled a great plume of sparks into + the air, amid a cloud of smoke. + </p> + <p> + The country, all white, lit up by the fire, shone like a cloth of silver + tinted with red. + </p> + <p> + A bell, far off, began to toll. + </p> + <p> + The old “Sauvage” stood before her ruined dwelling, armed with + her gun, her son's gun, for fear one of those men might escape. + </p> + <p> + When she saw that it was ended, she threw her weapon into the brasier. A + loud report followed. + </p> + <p> + People were coming, the peasants, the Prussians. + </p> + <p> + They found the woman seated on the trunk of a tree, calm and satisfied. + </p> + <p> + A German officer, but speaking French like a son of France, demanded: + </p> + <p> + “Where are your soldiers?” + </p> + <p> + She reached her bony arm toward the red heap of fire which was almost out + and answered with a strong voice: + </p> + <p> + “There!” + </p> + <p> + They crowded round her. The Prussian asked: + </p> + <p> + “How did it take fire?” + </p> + <p> + “It was I who set it on fire.” + </p> + <p> + They did not believe her, they thought that the sudden disaster had made + her crazy. While all pressed round and listened, she told the story from + beginning to end, from the arrival of the letter to the last shriek of the + men who were burned with her house, and never omitted a detail. + </p> + <p> + When she had finished, she drew two pieces of paper from her pocket, and, + in order to distinguish them by the last gleams of the fire, she again + adjusted her spectacles. Then she said, showing one: + </p> + <p> + “That, that is the death of Victor.” Showing the other, she + added, indicating the red ruins with a bend of the head: “Here are + their names, so that you can write home.” She quietly held a sheet + of paper out to the officer, who held her by the shoulders, and she + continued: + </p> + <p> + “You must write how it happened, and you must say to their mothers + that it was I who did that, Victoire Simon, la Sauvage! Do not forget.” + </p> + <p> + The officer shouted some orders in German. They seized her, they threw her + against the walls of her house, still hot. Then twelve men drew quickly up + before her, at twenty paces. She did not move. She had understood; she + waited. + </p> + <p> + An order rang out, followed instantly by a long report. A belated shot + went off by itself, after the others. + </p> + <p> + The old woman did not fall. She sank as though they had cut off her legs. + </p> + <p> + The Prussian officer approached. She was almost cut in two, and in her + withered hand she held her letter bathed with blood. + </p> + <p> + My friend Serval added: + </p> + <p> + “It was by way of reprisal that the Germans destroyed the chateau of + the district, which belonged to me.” + </p> + <p> + I thought of the mothers of those four fine fellows burned in that house + and of the horrible heroism of that other mother shot against the wall. + </p> + <p> + And I picked up a little stone, still blackened by the flames. + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0019"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + EPIPHANY + </h2> + <p> + I should say I did remember that Epiphany supper during the war! exclaimed + Count de Garens, an army captain. + </p> + <p> + I was quartermaster of cavalry at the time, and for a fortnight had been + scouting in front of the German advance guard. The evening before we had + cut down a few Uhlans and had lost three men, one of whom was that poor + little Raudeville. You remember Joseph de Raudeville, of course. + </p> + <p> + Well, on that day my commanding officer ordered me to take six troopers + and to go and occupy the village of Porterin, where there had been five + skirmishes in three weeks, and to hold it all night. There were not twenty + houses left standing, not a dozen houses in that wasps' nest. So I took + ten troopers and set out about four o'clock, and at five o'clock, while it + was still pitch dark, we reached the first houses of Porterin. I halted + and ordered Marchas—you know Pierre de Marchas, who afterward + married little Martel-Auvelin, the daughter of the Marquis de Martel-Auvelin—to + go alone into the village, and to report to me what he saw. + </p> + <p> + I had selected nothing but volunteers, all men of good family. It is + pleasant when on duty not to be forced to be on intimate terms with + unpleasant fellows. This Marchas was as smart as possible, cunning as a + fox and supple as a serpent. He could scent the Prussians as a dog can + scent a hare, could discover food where we should have died of hunger + without him, and obtained information from everybody, and information + which was always reliable, with incredible cleverness. + </p> + <p> + In ten minutes he returned. “All right,” he said; “there + have been no Prussians here for three days. It is a sinister place, is + this village. I have been talking to a Sister of Mercy, who is caring for + four or five wounded men in an abandoned convent.” + </p> + <p> + I ordered them to ride on, and we entered the principal street. On the + right and left we could vaguely see roofless walls, which were hardly + visible in the profound darkness. Here and there a light was burning in a + room; some family had remained to keep its house standing as well as they + were able; a family of brave or of poor people. The rain began to fall, a + fine, icy cold rain, which froze as it fell on our cloaks. The horses + stumbled against stones, against beams, against furniture. Marchas guided + us, going before us on foot, and leading his horse by the bridle. + </p> + <p> + “Where are you taking us to?” I asked him. And he replied: + “I have a place for us to lodge in, and a rare good one.” And + we presently stopped before a small house, evidently belonging to some + proprietor of the middle class. It stood on the street, was quite + inclosed, and had a garden in the rear. + </p> + <p> + Marchas forced open the lock by means of a big stone which he picked up + near the garden gate; then he mounted the steps, smashed in the front door + with his feet and shoulders, lit a bit of wax candle, which he was never + without, and went before us into the comfortable apartments of some rich + private individual, guiding us with admirable assurance, as if he lived in + this house which he now saw for the first time. + </p> + <p> + Two troopers remained outside to take care of our horses, and Marchas said + to stout Ponderel, who followed him: “The stables must be on the + left; I saw that as we came in; go and put the animals up there, for we do + not need them”; and then, turning to me, he said: “Give your + orders, confound it all!” + </p> + <p> + This fellow always astonished me, and I replied with a laugh: “I + will post my sentinels at the country approaches and will return to you + here.” + </p> + <p> + “How many men are you going to take?” + </p> + <p> + “Five. The others will relieve them at five o'clock in the evening.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well. Leave me four to look after provisions, to do the + cooking and to set the table. I will go and find out where the wine is + hidden.” + </p> + <p> + I went off, to reconnoitre the deserted streets until they ended in the + open country, so as to post my sentries there. + </p> + <p> + Half an hour later I was back, and found Marchas lounging in a great + easy-chair, the covering of which he had taken off, from love of luxury, + as he said. He was warming his feet at the fire and smoking an excellent + cigar, whose perfume filled the room. He was alone, his elbows resting on + the arms of the chair, his head sunk between his shoulders, his cheeks + flushed, his eyes bright, and looking delighted. + </p> + <p> + I heard the noise of plates and dishes in the next room, and Marchas said + to me, smiling in a contented manner: “This is famous; I found the + champagne under the flight of steps outside, the brandy—fifty + bottles of the very finest in the kitchen garden under a pear tree, which + did not seem to me to be quite straight when I looked at it by the light + of my lantern. As for solids, we have two fowls, a goose, a duck, and + three pigeons. They are being cooked at this moment. It is a delightful + district.” + </p> + <p> + I sat down opposite him, and the fire in the grate was burning my nose and + cheeks. “Where did you find this wood?” I asked. “Splendid + wood,” he replied. “The owner's carriage. It is the paint + which is causing all this flame, an essence of punch and varnish. A + capital house!” + </p> + <p> + I laughed, for I saw the creature was funny, and he went on: “Fancy + this being the Epiphany! I have had a bean put into the goose dressing; + but there is no queen; it is really very annoying!” And I repeated + like an echo: “It is annoying, but what do you want me to do in the + matter?” “To find some, of course.” “Some women. + Women?—you must be mad?” “I managed to find the brandy + under the pear tree, and the champagne under the steps; and yet there was + nothing to guide me, while as for you, a petticoat is a sure bait. Go and + look, old fellow.” + </p> + <p> + He looked so grave, so convinced, that I could not tell whether he was + joking or not, and so I replied: “Look here, Marchas, are you having + a joke with me?” “I never joke on duty.” “But + where the devil do you expect me to find any women?” “Where + you like; there must be two or three remaining in the neighborhood, so + ferret them out and bring them here.” + </p> + <p> + I got up, for it was too hot in front of the fire, and Marchas went off: + </p> + <p> + “Do you want an idea?” “Yes.” “Go and see + the priest.” “The priest? What for?” “Ask him to + supper, and beg him to bring a woman with him.” “The priest! A + woman! Ha! ha! ha!” + </p> + <p> + But Marchas continued with extraordinary gravity: “I am not + laughing; go and find the priest and tell him how we are situated, and, as + he must be horribly dull, he will come. But tell him that we want one + woman at least, a lady, of course, since we, are all men of the world. He + is sure to know his female parishioners on the tips of his fingers, and if + there is one to suit us, and you manage it well, he will suggest her to + you.” + </p> + <p> + “Come, come, Marchas, what are you thinking of?” “My + dear Garens, you can do this quite well. It will even be very funny. We + are well bred, by Jove! and we will put on our most distinguished manners + and our grandest style. Tell the abbe who we are, make him laugh, soften + his heart, coax him and persuade him!” “No, it is impossible.” + </p> + <p> + He drew his chair close to mine, and as he knew my special weakness, the + scamp continued: “Just think what a swaggering thing it will be to + do and how amusing to tell about; the whole army will talk about it, and + it will give you a famous reputation.” + </p> + <p> + I hesitated, for the adventure rather tempted me, and he persisted: + “Come, my little Garens. You are the head of this detachment, and + you alone can go and call on the head of the church in this neighborhood. + I beg of you to go, and I promise you that after the war I will relate the + whole affair in verse in the Revue de Deux Mondes. You owe this much to + your men, for you have made them march enough during the last month.” + </p> + <p> + I got up at last and asked: “Where is the priest's house?” + “Take the second turning at the end of the street, you will see an + avenue, and at the end of the avenue you will find the church. The + parsonage is beside it.” As I went out, he called out: “Tell + him the bill of fare, to make him hungry!” + </p> + <p> + I discovered the ecclesiastic's little house without any difficulty; it + was by the side of a large, ugly brick church. I knocked at the door with + my fist, as there was neither bell nor knocker, and a loud voice from + inside asked: “Who is there?” To which I replied: “A + quartermaster of hussars.” + </p> + <p> + I heard the noise of bolts and of a key being turned, and found myself + face to face with a tall priest with a large stomach, the chest of a + prizefighter, formidable hands projecting from turned-up sleeves, a red + face, and the look of a kind man. I gave him a military salute and said: + “Good-day, Monsieur le Cure.” + </p> + <p> + He had feared a surprise, some marauders' ambush, and he smiled as he + replied: “Good-day, my friend; come in.” I followed him into a + small room with a red tiled floor, in which a small fire was burning, very + different to Marchas' furnace, and he gave me a chair and said: “What + can I do for you?” “Monsieur, allow me first of all to + introduce myself”; and I gave him my card, which he took and read + half aloud: “Le Comte de Garens.” + </p> + <p> + I continued: “There are eleven of us here, Monsieur l'Abbe, five on + picket duty, and six installed at the house of an unknown inhabitant. The + names of the six are: Garens, myself; Pierre de Marchas, Ludovic de + Ponderel, Baron d'Streillis, Karl Massouligny, the painter's son, and + Joseph Herbon, a young musician. I have come to ask you, in their name and + my own, to do us the honor of supping with us. It is an Epiphany supper, + Monsieur le Cure, and we should like to make it a little cheerful.” + </p> + <p> + The priest smiled and murmured: “It seems to me to be hardly a + suitable occasion for amusing one's self.” And I replied: “We + are fighting during the day, monsieur. Fourteen of our comrades have been + killed in a month, and three fell as late as yesterday. It is war time. We + stake our life at every moment; have we not, therefore, the right to amuse + ourselves freely? We are Frenchmen, we like to laugh, and we can laugh + everywhere. Our fathers laughed on the scaffold! This evening we should + like to cheer ourselves up a little, like gentlemen, and not like + soldiers; you understand me, I hope. Are we wrong?” + </p> + <p> + He replied quickly: “You are quite right, my friend, and I accept + your invitation with great pleasure.” Then he called out: “Hermance!” + </p> + <p> + An old bent, wrinkled, horrible peasant woman appeared and said: “What + do you want?” “I shall not dine at home, my daughter.” + “Where are you going to dine then?” “With some + gentlemen, the hussars.” + </p> + <p> + I felt inclined to say: “Bring your servant with you,” just to + see Marchas' face, but I did not venture, and continued: “Do you + know any one among your parishioners, male or female, whom I could invite + as well?” He hesitated, reflected, and then said: “No, I do + not know anybody!” + </p> + <p> + I persisted: “Nobody! Come, monsieur, think; it would be very nice + to have some ladies, I mean to say, some married couples! I know nothing + about your parishioners. The baker and his wife, the grocer, the—the—the—watchmaker—the—shoemaker—the—the + druggist with Mrs. Druggist. We have a good spread and plenty of wine, and + we should be enchanted to leave pleasant recollections of ourselves with + the people here.” + </p> + <p> + The priest thought again for a long time, and then said resolutely: + “No, there is nobody.” I began to laugh. “By Jove, + Monsieur le Cure, it is very annoying not to have an Epiphany queen, for + we have the bean. Come, think. Is there not a married mayor, or a married + deputy mayor, or a married municipal councillor or a schoolmaster?” + “No, all the ladies have gone away.” “What, is there not + in the whole place some good tradesman's wife with her good tradesman, to + whom we might give this pleasure, for it would be a pleasure to them, a + great pleasure under present circumstances?” + </p> + <p> + But, suddenly, the cure began to laugh, and laughed so violently that he + fairly shook, and presently exclaimed: “Ha! ha! ha! I have got what + you want, yes. I have got what you want! Ha! ha! ha! We will laugh and + enjoy ourselves, my children; we will have some fun. How pleased the + ladies will be, I say, how delighted they will be! Ha! ha! Where are you + staying?” + </p> + <p> + I described the house, and he understood where it was. “Very good,” + he said. “It belongs to Monsieur Bertin-Lavaille. I will be there in + half an hour, with four ladies! Ha! ha! ha! four ladies!” + </p> + <p> + He went out with me, still laughing, and left me, repeating: “That + is capital; in half an hour at Bertin-Lavaille's house.” + </p> + <p> + I returned quickly, very much astonished and very much puzzled. “Covers + for how many?” Marchas asked, as soon as he saw me. “Eleven. + There are six of us hussars, besides the priest and four ladies.” He + was thunderstruck, and I was triumphant. He repeated: “Four ladies! + Did you say, four ladies?” “I said four women.” “Real + women?” “Real women.” “Well, accept my + compliments!” “I will, for I deserve them.” + </p> + <p> + He got out of his armchair, opened the door, and I saw a beautiful white + tablecloth on a long table, round which three hussars in blue aprons were + setting out the plates and glasses. “There are some women coming!” + Marchas cried. And the three men began to dance and to cheer with all + their might. + </p> + <p> + Everything was ready, and we were waiting. We waited for nearly an hour, + while a delicious smell of roast poultry pervaded the whole house. At + last, however, a knock against the shutters made us all jump up at the + same moment. Stout Ponderel ran to open the door, and in less than a + minute a little Sister of Mercy appeared in the doorway. She was thin, + wrinkled and timid, and successively greeted the four bewildered hussars + who saw her enter. Behind her, the noise of sticks sounded on the tiled + floor in the vestibule, and as soon as she had come into the drawing-room, + I saw three old heads in white caps, following each other one by one, who + came in, swaying with different movements, one inclining to the right, + while the other inclined to the left. And three worthy women appeared, + limping, dragging their legs behind them, crippled by illness and deformed + through old age, three infirm old women, past service, the only three + pensioners who were able to walk in the home presided over by Sister + Saint-Benedict. + </p> + <p> + She had turned round to her invalids, full of anxiety for them, and then, + seeing my quartermaster's stripes, she said to me: “I am much + obliged to you for thinking of these poor women. They have very little + pleasure in life, and you are at the same time giving them a great treat + and doing them a great honor.” + </p> + <p> + I saw the priest, who had remained in the dark hallway, and was laughing + heartily, and I began to laugh in my turn, especially when I saw Marchas' + face. Then, motioning the nun to the seats, I said: + </p> + <p> + “Sit down, sister; we are very proud and very happy that you have + accepted our unpretentious invitation.” + </p> + <p> + She took three chairs which stood against the wall, set them before the + fire, led her three old women to them, settled them on them, took their + sticks and shawls, which she put into a corner, and then, pointing to the + first, a thin woman with an enormous stomach, who was evidently suffering + from the dropsy, she said: “This is Mother Paumelle; whose husband + was killed by falling from a roof, and whose son died in Africa; she is + sixty years old.” Then she pointed to another, a tall woman, whose + head trembled unceasingly: “This is Mother Jean-Jean, who is + sixty-seven. She is nearly blind, for her face was terribly singed in a + fire, and her right leg was half burned off.” + </p> + <p> + Then she pointed to the third, a sort of dwarf, with protruding, round, + stupid eyes, which she rolled incessantly in all directions, “This + is La Putois, an idiot. She is only forty-four.” + </p> + <p> + I bowed to the three women as if I were being presented to some royal + highnesses, and turning to the priest, I said: “You are an excellent + man, Monsieur l'Abbe, to whom all of us here owe a debt of gratitude.” + </p> + <p> + Everybody was laughing, in fact, except Marchas, who seemed furious, and + just then Karl Massouligny cried: “Sister Saint-Benedict, supper is + on the table!” + </p> + <p> + I made her go first with the priest, then I helped up Mother Paumelle, + whose arm I took and dragged her into the next room, which was no easy + task, for she seemed heavier than a lump of iron. + </p> + <p> + Stout Ponderel gave his arm to Mother Jean-Jean, who bemoaned her crutch, + and little Joseph Herbon took the idiot, La Putois, to the dining-room, + which was filled with the odor of the viands. + </p> + <p> + As soon as we were opposite our plates, the sister clapped her hands three + times, and, with the precision of soldiers presenting arms, the women made + a rapid sign of the cross, and then the priest slowly repeated the + Benedictus in Latin. Then we sat down, and the two fowls appeared, brought + in by Marchas, who chose to wait at table, rather than to sit down as a + guest to this ridiculous repast. + </p> + <p> + But I cried: “Bring the champagne at once!” and a cork flew + out with the noise of a pistol, and in spite of the resistance of the + priest and of the kind sister, the three hussars, sitting by the side of + the three invalids, emptied their three full glasses down their throats by + force. + </p> + <p> + Massouligny, who possessed the faculty of making himself at home, and of + being on good terms with every one, wherever he was, made love to Mother + Paumelle in the drollest manner. The dropsical woman, who had retained her + cheerfulness in spite of her misfortunes, answered him banteringly in a + high falsetto voice which appeared as if it were put on, and she laughed + so heartily at her neighbor's jokes that it was quite alarming. Little + Herbon had seriously undertaken the task of making the idiot drunk, and + Baron d'Streillis, whose wits were not always particularly sharp, was + questioning old Jean-Jean about the life, the habits, and the rules of the + hospital. + </p> + <p> + The nun said to Massouligny in consternation: + </p> + <p> + “Oh! oh! you will make her ill; pray do not make her laugh like + that, monsieur. Oh! monsieur—” Then she got up and rushed at + Herbon to take from him a full glass which he was hastily emptying down La + Putois' throat, while the priest shook with laughter, and said to the + sister: “Never mind; just this once, it will not hurt them. Do leave + them alone.” + </p> + <p> + After the two fowls they ate the duck, which was flanked by the three + pigeons and the blackbird, and then the goose appeared, smoking, + golden-brown, and diffusing a warm odor of hot, browned roast meat. La + Paumelle, who was getting lively, clapped her hands; La Jean-Jean left off + answering the baron's numerous questions, and La Putois uttered grunts of + pleasure, half cries and half sighs, as little children do when one shows + them candy. “Allow me to take charge of this animal,” the cure + said. “I understand these sort of operations better than most + people.” “Certainly, Monsieur l'Abbe,” and the sister + said: “How would it be to open the window a little? They are too + warm, and I am afraid they will be ill.” + </p> + <p> + I turned to Marchas: “Open the window for a minute.” He did + so; the cold outer air as it came in made the candles flare, and the steam + from the goose, which the cure was scientifically carving, with a table + napkin round his neck, whirl about. We watched him doing it, without + speaking now, for we were interested in his attractive handiwork, and + seized with renewed appetite at the sight of that enormous golden-brown + bird, whose limbs fell one after another into the brown gravy at the + bottom of the dish. At that moment, in the midst of that greedy silence + which kept us all attentive, the distant report of a shot came in at the + open window. + </p> + <p> + I started to my feet so quickly that my chair fell down behind me, and I + shouted: “To saddle, all of you! You, Marchas, take two men and go + and see what it is. I shall expect you back here in five minutes.” + And while the three riders went off at full gallop through the night, I + got into the saddle with my three remaining hussars, in front of the steps + of the villa, while the cure, the sister and the three old women showed + their frightened faces at the window. + </p> + <p> + We heard nothing more, except the barking of a dog in the distance. The + rain had ceased, and it was cold, very cold, and soon I heard the gallop + of a horse, of a single horse, coming back. It was Marchas, and I called + out to him: “Well?” “It is nothing; Francois has wounded + an old peasant who refused to answer his challenge: 'Who goes there?' and + who continued to advance in spite of the order to keep off; but they are + bringing him here, and we shall see what is the matter.” + </p> + <p> + I gave orders for the horses to be put back in the stable, and I sent my + two soldiers to meet the others, and returned to the house. Then the cure, + Marchas, and I took a mattress into the room to lay the wounded man on; + the sister tore up a table napkin in order to make lint, while the three + frightened women remained huddled up in a corner. + </p> + <p> + Soon I heard the rattle of sabres on the road, and I took a candle to show + a light to the men who were returning; and they soon appeared, carrying + that inert, soft, long, sinister object which a human body becomes when + life no longer sustains it. + </p> + <p> + They put the wounded man on the mattress that had been prepared for him, + and I saw at the first glance that he was dying. He had the death rattle + and was spitting up blood, which ran out of the corners of his mouth at + every gasp. The man was covered with blood! His cheeks, his beard, his + hair, his neck and his clothes seemed to have been soaked, to have been + dipped in a red tub; and that blood stuck to him, and had become a dull + color which was horrible to look at. + </p> + <p> + The wounded man, wrapped up in a large shepherd's cloak, occasionally + opened his dull, vacant eyes, which seemed stupid with astonishment, like + those of animals wounded by a sportsman, which fall at his feet, more than + half dead already, stupefied with terror and surprise. + </p> + <p> + The cure exclaimed: “Ah, it is old Placide, the shepherd from Les + Moulins. He is deaf, poor man, and heard nothing. Ah! Oh, God! they have + killed the unhappy man!” The sister had opened his blouse and shirt, + and was looking at a little blue hole in his chest, which was not bleeding + any more. “There is nothing to be done,” she said. + </p> + <p> + The shepherd was gasping terribly and bringing up blood with every last + breath, and in his throat, to the very depth of his lungs, they could hear + an ominous and continued gurgling. The cure, standing in front of him, + raised his right hand, made the sign of the cross, and in a slow and + solemn voice pronounced the Latin words which purify men's souls, but + before they were finished, the old man's body trembled violently, as if + something had given way inside him, and he ceased to breathe. He was dead. + </p> + <p> + When I turned round, I saw a sight which was even more horrible than the + death struggle of this unfortunate man; the three old women were standing + up huddled close together, hideous, and grimacing with fear and horror. I + went up to them, and they began to utter shrill screams, while La + Jean-Jean, whose burned leg could no longer support her, fell to the + ground at full length. + </p> + <p> + Sister Saint-Benedict left the dead man, ran up to her infirm old women, + and without a word or a look for me, wrapped their shawls round them, gave + them their crutches, pushed them to the door, made them go out, and + disappeared with them into the dark night. + </p> + <p> + I saw that I could not even let a hussar accompany them, for the mere + rattle of a sword would have sent them mad with fear. + </p> + <p> + The cure was still looking at the dead man; but at last he turned round to + me and said: + </p> + <p> + “Oh! What a horrible thing!” + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0020"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + THE MUSTACHE + </h2> +<div class='pre'> + CHATEAU DE SOLLES, + July 30, 1883. +</div> + <p> + My Dear Lucy: + </p> + <p> + I have no news. We live in the drawing-room, looking out at the rain. We + cannot go out in this frightful weather, so we have theatricals. How + stupid they are, my dear, these drawing entertainments in the repertory of + real life! All is forced, coarse, heavy. The jokes are like cannon balls, + smashing everything in their passage. No wit, nothing natural, no + sprightliness, no elegance. These literary men, in truth, know nothing of + society. They are perfectly ignorant of how people think and talk in our + set. I do not mind if they despise our customs, our conventionalities, but + I do not forgive them for not knowing them. When they want to be humorous + they make puns that would do for a barrack; when they try to be jolly, + they give us jokes that they must have picked up on the outer boulevard in + those beer houses artists are supposed to frequent, where one has heard + the same students' jokes for fifty years. + </p> + <p> + So we have taken to Theatricals. As we are only two women, my husband + takes the part of a soubrette, and, in order to do that, he has shaved off + his mustache. You cannot imagine, my dear Lucy, how it changes him! I no + longer recognize him-by day or at night. If he did not let it grow again I + think I should no longer love him; he looks so horrid like this. + </p> + <p> + In fact, a man without a mustache is no longer a man. I do not care much + for a beard; it almost always makes a man look untidy. But a mustache, oh, + a mustache is indispensable to a manly face. No, you would never believe + how these little hair bristles on the upper lip are a relief to the eye + and good in other ways. I have thought over the matter a great deal but + hardly dare to write my thoughts. Words look so different on paper and the + subject is so difficult, so delicate, so dangerous that it requires + infinite skill to tackle it. + </p> + <p> + Well, when my husband appeared, shaven, I understood at once that I never + could fall in love with a strolling actor nor a preacher, even if it were + Father Didon, the most charming of all! Later when I was alone with him + (my husband) it was worse still. Oh, my dear Lucy, never let yourself be + kissed by a man without a mustache; their kisses have no flavor, none + whatever! They no longer have the charm, the mellowness and the snap + —yes, the snap—of a real kiss. The mustache is the spice. + </p> + <p> + Imagine placing to your lips a piece of dry—or moist—parchment. + That is the kiss of the man without a mustache. It is not worth while. + </p> + <p> + Whence comes this charm of the mustache, will you tell me? Do I know + myself? It tickles your face, you feel it approaching your mouth and it + sends a little shiver through you down to the tips of your toes. + </p> + <p> + And on your neck! Have you ever felt a mustache on your neck? It + intoxicates you, makes you feel creepy, goes to the tips of your fingers. + You wriggle, shake your shoulders, toss back your head. You wish to get + away and at the same time to remain there; it is delightful, but + irritating. But how good it is! + </p> + <p> + A lip without a mustache is like a body without clothing; and one must + wear clothes, very few, if you like, but still some clothing. + </p> + <p> + I recall a sentence (uttered by a politician) which has been running in my + mind for three months. My husband, who keeps up with the newspapers, read + me one evening a very singular speech by our Minister of Agriculture, who + was called M. Meline. He may have been superseded by this time. I do not + know. + </p> + <p> + I was paying no attention, but the name Meline struck me. It recalled, I + do not exactly know why, the 'Scenes de la vie de boheme'. I thought it + was about some grisette. That shows how scraps of the speech entered my + mind. This M. Meline was making this statement to the people of Amiens, I + believe, and I have ever since been trying to understand what he meant: + “There is no patriotism without agriculture!” Well, I have + just discovered his meaning, and I affirm in my turn that there is no love + without a mustache. When you say it that way it sounds comical, does it + not? + </p> + <p> + There is no love without a mustache! + </p> + <p> + “There is no patriotism without agriculture,” said M. Meline, + and he was right, that minister; I now understand why. + </p> + <p> + From a very different point of view the mustache is essential. It gives + character to the face. It makes a man look gentle, tender, violent, a + monster, a rake, enterprising! The hairy man, who does not shave off his + whiskers, never has a refined look, for his features are concealed; and + the shape of the jaw and the chin betrays a great deal to those who + understand. + </p> + <p> + The man with a mustache retains his own peculiar expression and his + refinement at the same time. + </p> + <p> + And how many different varieties of mustaches there are! Sometimes they + are twisted, curled, coquettish. Those seem to be chiefly devoted to + women. + </p> + <p> + Sometimes they are pointed, sharp as needles, and threatening. That kind + prefers wine, horses and war. + </p> + <p> + Sometimes they are enormous, overhanging, frightful. These big ones + generally conceal a fine disposition, a kindliness that borders on + weakness and a gentleness that savors of timidity. + </p> + <p> + But what I adore above all in the mustache is that it is French, + altogether French. It came from our ancestors, the Gauls, and has remained + the insignia of our national character. + </p> + <p> + It is boastful, gallant and brave. It sips wine gracefully and knows how + to laugh with refinement, while the broad-bearded jaws are clumsy in + everything they do. + </p> + <p> + I recall something that made me weep all my tears and also—I see it + now—made me love a mustache on a man's face. + </p> + <p> + It was during the war, when I was living with my father. I was a young + girl then. One day there was a skirmish near the chateau. I had heard the + firing of the cannon and of the artillery all the morning, and that + evening a German colonel came and took up his abode in our house. He left + the following day. + </p> + <p> + My father was informed that there were a number of dead bodies in the + fields. He had them brought to our place so that they might be buried + together. They were laid all along the great avenue of pines as fast as + they brought them in, on both sides of the avenue, and as they began to + smell unpleasant, their bodies were covered with earth until the deep + trench could be dug. Thus one saw only their heads which seemed to + protrude from the clayey earth and were almost as yellow, with their + closed eyes. + </p> + <p> + I wanted to see them. But when I saw those two rows of frightful faces, I + thought I should faint. However, I began to look at them, one by one, + trying to guess what kind of men these had been. + </p> + <p> + The uniforms were concealed beneath the earth, and yet immediately, yes, + immediately, my dear, I recognized the Frenchmen by their mustache! + </p> + <p> + Some of them had shaved on the very day of the battle, as though they + wished to be elegant up to the last; others seemed to have a week's + growth, but all wore the French mustache, very plain, the proud mustache + that seems to say: “Do not take me for my bearded friend, little + one; I am a brother.” + </p> + <p> + And I cried, oh, I cried a great deal more than I should if I had not + recognized them, the poor dead fellows. + </p> +<div class='pre'> +It was wrong of me to tell you this. Now I am sad and cannot chatter any +longer. Well, good-by, dear Lucy. I send you a hearty kiss. Long live +the mustache! + JEANNE. +</div> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0021"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + MADAME BAPTISTE + </h2> + <p> + The first thing I did was to look at the clock as I entered the + waiting-room of the station at Loubain, and I found that I had to wait two + hours and ten minutes for the Paris express. + </p> + <p> + I had walked twenty miles and felt suddenly tired. Not seeing anything on + the station walls to amuse me, I went outside and stood there racking my + brains to think of something to do. The street was a kind of boulevard, + planted with acacias, and on either side a row of houses of varying shape + and different styles of architecture, houses such as one only sees in a + small town, and ascended a slight hill, at the extreme end of which there + were some trees, as though it ended in a park. + </p> + <p> + From time to time a cat crossed the street and jumped over the gutters + carefully. A cur sniffed at every tree and hunted for scraps from the + kitchens, but I did not see a single human being, and I felt listless and + disheartened. What could I do with myself? I was already thinking of the + inevitable and interminable visit to the small cafe at the railway + station, where I should have to sit over a glass of undrinkable beer and + the illegible newspaper, when I saw a funeral procession coming out of a + side street into the one in which I was, and the sight of the hearse was a + relief to me. It would, at any rate, give me something to do for ten + minutes. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly, however, my curiosity was aroused. The hearse was followed by + eight gentlemen, one of whom was weeping, while the others were chatting + together, but there was no priest, and I thought to myself: + </p> + <p> + “This is a non-religious funeral,” and then I reflected that a + town like Loubain must contain at least a hundred freethinkers, who would + have made a point of making a manifestation. What could it be, then? The + rapid pace of the procession clearly proved that the body was to be buried + without ceremony, and, consequently, without the intervention of the + Church. + </p> + <p> + My idle curiosity framed the most complicated surmises, and as the hearse + passed me, a strange idea struck me, which was to follow it, with the + eight gentlemen. That would take up my time for an hour, at least, and I + accordingly walked with the others, with a sad look on my face, and, on + seeing this, the two last turned round in surprise, and then spoke to each + other in a low voice. + </p> + <p> + No doubt they were asking each other whether I belonged to the town, and + then they consulted the two in front of them, who stared at me in turn. + This close scrutiny annoyed me, and to put an end to it I went up to them, + and, after bowing, I said: + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon, gentlemen, for interrupting your conversation, + but, seeing a civil funeral, I have followed it, although I did not know + the deceased gentleman whom you are accompanying.” + </p> + <p> + “It was a woman,” one of them said. + </p> + <p> + I was much surprised at hearing this, and asked: + </p> + <p> + “But it is a civil funeral, is it not?” + </p> + <p> + The other gentleman, who evidently wished to tell me all about it, then + said: “Yes and no. The clergy have refused to allow us the use of + the church.” + </p> + <p> + On hearing this I uttered a prolonged “A-h!” of astonishment. + I could not understand it at all, but my obliging neighbor continued: + </p> + <p> + “It is rather a long story. This young woman committed suicide, and + that is the reason why she cannot be buried with any religious ceremony. + The gentleman who is walking first, and who is crying, is her husband.” + </p> + <p> + I replied with some hesitation: + </p> + <p> + “You surprise and interest me very much, monsieur. Shall I be + indiscreet if I ask you to tell me the facts of the case? If I am + troubling you, forget that I have said anything about the matter.” + </p> + <p> + The gentleman took my arm familiarly. + </p> + <p> + “Not at all, not at all. Let us linger a little behind the others, + and I will tell it you, although it is a very sad story. We have plenty of + time before getting to the cemetery, the trees of which you see up yonder, + for it is a stiff pull up this hill.” + </p> + <p> + And he began: + </p> + <p> + “This young woman, Madame Paul Hamot, was the daughter of a wealthy + merchant in the neighborhood, Monsieur Fontanelle. When she was a mere + child of eleven, she had a shocking adventure; a footman attacked her and + she nearly died. A terrible criminal case was the result, and the man was + sentenced to penal servitude for life. + </p> + <p> + “The little girl grew up, stigmatized by disgrace, isolated, without + any companions; and grown-up people would scarcely kiss her, for they + thought that they would soil their lips if they touched her forehead, and + she became a sort of monster, a phenomenon to all the town. People said to + each other in a whisper: 'You know, little Fontanelle,' and everybody + turned away in the streets when she passed. Her parents could not even get + a nurse to take her out for a walk, as the other servants held aloof from + her, as if contact with her would poison everybody who came near her. + </p> + <p> + “It was pitiable to see the poor child go and play every afternoon. + She remained quite by herself, standing by her maid and looking at the + other children amusing themselves. Sometimes, yielding to an irresistible + desire to mix with the other children, she advanced timidly, with nervous + gestures, and mingled with a group, with furtive steps, as if conscious of + her own disgrace. And immediately the mothers, aunts and nurses would come + running from every seat and take the children entrusted to their care by + the hand and drag them brutally away. + </p> + <p> + “Little Fontanelle remained isolated, wretched, without + understanding what it meant, and then she began to cry, nearly heartbroken + with grief, and then she used to run and hide her head in her nurse's lap, + sobbing. + </p> + <p> + “As she grew up, it was worse still. They kept the girls from her, + as if she were stricken with the plague. Remember that she had nothing to + learn, nothing; that she no longer had the right to the symbolical wreath + of orange-flowers; that almost before she could read she had penetrated + that redoubtable mystery which mothers scarcely allow their daughters to + guess at, trembling as they enlighten them on the night of their marriage. + </p> + <p> + “When she went through the streets, always accompanied by her + governess, as if, her parents feared some fresh, terrible adventure, with + her eyes cast down under the load of that mysterious disgrace which she + felt was always weighing upon her, the other girls, who were not nearly so + innocent as people thought, whispered and giggled as they looked at her + knowingly, and immediately turned their heads absently, if she happened to + look at them. People scarcely greeted her; only a few men bowed to her, + and the mothers pretended not to see her, while some young blackguards + called her Madame Baptiste, after the name of the footman who had attacked + her. + </p> + <p> + “Nobody knew the secret torture of her mind, for she hardly ever + spoke, and never laughed, and her parents themselves appeared + uncomfortable in her presence, as if they bore her a constant grudge for + some irreparable fault. + </p> + <p> + “An honest man would not willingly give his hand to a liberated + convict, would he, even if that convict were his own son? And Monsieur and + Madame Fontanelle looked on their daughter as they would have done on a + son who had just been released from the hulks. She was pretty and pale, + tall, slender, distinguished-looking, and she would have pleased me very + much, monsieur, but for that unfortunate affair. + </p> + <p> + “Well, when a new sub-prefect was appointed here, eighteen months + ago, he brought his private secretary with him. He was a queer sort of + fellow, who had lived in the Latin Quarter, it appears. He saw + Mademoiselle Fontanelle and fell in love with her, and when told of what + occurred, he merely said: + </p> + <p> + “'Bah! That is just a guarantee for the future, and I would rather + it should have happened before I married her than afterward. I shall live + tranquilly with that woman.' + </p> + <p> + “He paid his addresses to her, asked for her hand and married her, + and then, not being deficient in assurance, he paid wedding calls, as if + nothing had happened. Some people returned them, others did not; but, at + last, the affair began to be forgotten, and she took her proper place in + society. + </p> + <p> + “She adored her husband as if he had been a god; for, you must + remember, he had restored her to honor and to social life, had braved + public opinion, faced insults, and, in a word, performed such a courageous + act as few men would undertake, and she felt the most exalted and tender + love for him. + </p> + <p> + “When she became enceinte, and it was known, the most particular + people and the greatest sticklers opened their doors to her, as if she had + been definitely purified by maternity. + </p> + <p> + “It is strange, but so it is, and thus everything was going on as + well as possible until the other day, which was the feast of the patron + saint of our town. The prefect, surrounded by his staff and the + authorities, presided at the musical competition, and when he had finished + his speech the distribution of medals began, which Paul Hamot, his private + secretary, handed to those who were entitled to them. + </p> + <p> + “As you know, there are always jealousies and rivalries, which make + people forget all propriety. All the ladies of the town were there on the + platform, and, in his turn, the bandmaster from the village of Mourmillon + came up. This band was only to receive a second-class medal, for one + cannot give first-class medals to everybody, can one? But when the private + secretary handed him his badge, the man threw it in his face and + exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “'You may keep your medal for Baptiste. You owe him a first-class + one, also, just as you do me.' + </p> + <p> + “There were a number of people there who began to laugh. The common + herd are neither charitable nor refined, and every eye was turned toward + that poor lady. Have you ever seen a woman going mad, monsieur? Well, we + were present at the sight! She got up and fell back on her chair three + times in succession, as if she wished to make her escape, but saw that she + could not make her way through the crowd, and then another voice in the + crowd exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “'Oh! Oh! Madame Baptiste!' + </p> + <p> + “And a great uproar, partly of laughter and partly of indignation, + arose. The word was repeated over and over again; people stood on tiptoe + to see the unhappy woman's face; husbands lifted their wives up in their + arms, so that they might see her, and people asked: + </p> + <p> + “'Which is she? The one in blue?' + </p> + <p> + “The boys crowed like cocks, and laughter was heard all over the + place. + </p> + <p> + “She did not move now on her state chair, but sat just as if she had + been put there for the crowd to look at. She could not move, nor conceal + herself, nor hide her face. Her eyelids blinked quickly, as if a vivid + light were shining on them, and she breathed heavily, like a horse that is + going up a steep hill, so that it almost broke one's heart to see her. + Meanwhile, however, Monsieur Hamot had seized the ruffian by the throat, + and they were rolling on the ground together, amid a scene of + indescribable confusion, and the ceremony was interrupted. + </p> + <p> + “An hour later, as the Hamots were returning home, the young woman, + who had not uttered a word since the insult, but who was trembling as if + all her nerves had been set in motion by springs, suddenly sprang over the + parapet of the bridge and threw herself into the river before her husband + could prevent her. The water is very deep under the arches, and it was two + hours before her body was recovered. Of course, she was dead.” + </p> + <p> + The narrator stopped and then added: + </p> + <p> + “It was, perhaps, the best thing she could do under the + circumstances. There are some things which cannot be wiped out, and now + you understand why the clergy refused to have her taken into church. Ah! + If it had been a religious funeral the whole town would have been present, + but you can understand that her suicide added to the other affair and made + families abstain from attending her funeral; and then, it is not an easy + matter here to attend a funeral which is performed without religious + rites.” + </p> + <p> + We passed through the cemetery gates and I waited, much moved by what I + had heard, until the coffin had been lowered into the grave, before I went + up to the poor fellow who was sobbing violently, to press his hand warmly. + He looked at me in surprise through his tears and then said: + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, monsieur.” And I was not sorry that I had followed + the funeral. + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0022"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + THE QUESTION OF LATIN + </h2> + <p> + This subject of Latin that has been dinned into our ears for some time + past recalls to my mind a story—a story of my youth. + </p> + <p> + I was finishing my studies with a teacher, in a big central town, at the + Institution Robineau, celebrated through the entire province for the + special attention paid there to the study of Latin. + </p> + <p> + For the past ten years, the Robineau Institute beat the imperial lycee of + the town at every competitive examination, and all the colleges of the + subprefecture, and these constant successes were due, they said, to an + usher, a simple usher, M. Piquedent, or rather Pere Piquedent. + </p> + <p> + He was one of those middle-aged men quite gray, whose real age it is + impossible to tell, and whose history we can guess at first glance. Having + entered as an usher at twenty into the first institution that presented + itself so that he could proceed to take first his degree of Master of Arts + and afterward the degree of Doctor of Laws, he found himself so enmeshed + in this routine that he remained an usher all his life. But his love for + Latin did not leave him and harassed him like an unhealthy passion. He + continued to read the poets, the prose writers, the historians, to + interpret them and penetrate their meaning, to comment on them with a + perseverance bordering on madness. + </p> + <p> + One day, the idea came into his head to oblige all the students in his + class to answer him in Latin only; and he persisted in this resolution + until at last they were capable of sustaining an entire conversation with + him just as they would in their mother tongue. He listened to them, as a + leader of an orchestra listens to his musicians rehearsing, and striking + his desk every moment with his ruler, he exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur Lefrere, Monsieur Lefrere, you are committing a solecism! + You forget the rule. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur Plantel, your way of expressing yourself is altogether + French and in no way Latin. You must understand the genius of a language. + Look here, listen to me.” + </p> + <p> + Now, it came to pass that the pupils of the Institution Robineau carried + off, at the end of the year, all the prizes for composition, translation, + and Latin conversation. + </p> + <p> + Next year, the principal, a little man, as cunning as an ape, whom he + resembled in his grinning and grotesque appearance, had had printed on his + programmes, on his advertisements, and painted on the door of his + institution: + </p> + <p> + “Latin Studies a Specialty. Five first prizes carried off in the + five classes of the lycee. + </p> + <p> + “Two honor prizes at the general examinations in competition with + all the lycees and colleges of France.” + </p> + <p> + For ten years the Institution Robineau triumphed in the same fashion. Now + my father, allured by these successes, sent me as a day pupil to + Robineau's—or, as we called it, Robinetto or Robinettino's—and + made me take special private lessons from Pere Piquedent at the rate of + five francs per hour, out of which the usher got two francs and the + principal three francs. I was then eighteen, and was in the philosophy + class. + </p> + <p> + These private lessons were given in a little room looking out on the + street. It so happened that Pere Piquedent, instead of talking Latin to + me, as he did when teaching publicly in the institution, kept telling me + his troubles in French. Without relations, without friends, the poor man + conceived an attachment to me, and poured out his misery to me. + </p> + <p> + He had never for the last ten or fifteen years chatted confidentially with + any one. + </p> + <p> + “I am like an oak in a desert,” he said—“'sicut + quercus in solitudine'.” + </p> + <p> + The other ushers disgusted him. He knew nobody in the town, since he had + no time to devote to making acquaintances. + </p> + <p> + “Not even the nights, my friend, and that is the hardest thing on + me. The dream of my life is to have a room with my own furniture, my own + books, little things that belong to myself and which others may not touch. + And I have nothing of my own, nothing except my trousers and my + frock-coat, nothing, not even my mattress and my pillow! I have not four + walls to shut myself up in, except when I come to give a lesson in this + room. Do you see what this means—a man forced to spend his life + without ever having the right, without ever finding the time, to shut + himself up all alone, no matter where, to think, to reflect, to work, to + dream? Ah! my dear boy, a key, the key of a door which one can lock—this + is happiness, mark you, the only happiness! + </p> + <p> + “Here, all day long, teaching all those restless rogues, and during + the night the dormitory with the same restless rogues snoring. And I have + to sleep in the bed at the end of two rows of beds occupied by these + youngsters whom I must look after. I can never be alone, never! If I go + out I find the streets full of people, and, when I am tired of walking, I + go into some cafe crowded with smokers and billiard players. I tell you + what, it is the life of a galley slave.” + </p> + <p> + I said: + </p> + <p> + “Why did you not take up some other line, Monsieur Piquedent?” + </p> + <p> + He exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “What, my little friend? I am not a shoemaker, or a joiner, or a + hatter, or a baker, or a hairdresser. I only know Latin, and I have no + diploma which would enable me to sell my knowledge at a high price. If I + were a doctor I would sell for a hundred francs what I now sell for a + hundred sous; and I would supply it probably of an inferior quality, for + my title would be enough to sustain my reputation.” + </p> + <p> + Sometimes he would say to me: + </p> + <p> + “I have no rest in life except in the hours spent with you. Don't be + afraid! you'll lose nothing by that. I'll make it up to you in the + class-room by making you speak twice as much Latin as the others.” + </p> + <p> + One day, I grew bolder, and offered him a cigarette. He stared at me in + astonishment at first, then he gave a glance toward the door. + </p> + <p> + “If any one were to come in, my dear boy?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, let us smoke at the window,” said I. + </p> + <p> + And we went and leaned our elbows on the windowsill looking on the street, + holding concealed in our hands the little rolls of tobacco. Just opposite + to us was a laundry. Four women in loose white waists were passing hot, + heavy irons over the linen spread out before them, from which a warm steam + arose. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly, another, a fifth, carrying on her arm a large basket which made + her stoop, came out to take the customers their shirts, their + handkerchiefs, and their sheets. She stopped on the threshold as if she + were already fatigued; then, she raised her eyes, smiled as she saw us + smoking, flung at us, with her left hand, which was free, the sly kiss + characteristic of a free-and-easy working-woman, and went away at a slow + place, dragging her feet as she went. + </p> + <p> + She was a woman of about twenty, small, rather thin, pale, rather pretty, + with a roguish air and laughing eyes beneath her ill-combed fair hair. + </p> + <p> + Pere Piquedent, affected, began murmuring: + </p> + <p> + “What an occupation for a woman! Really a trade only fit for a + horse.” + </p> + <p> + And he spoke with emotion about the misery of the people. He had a heart + which swelled with lofty democratic sentiment, and he referred to the + fatiguing pursuits of the working class with phrases borrowed from + Jean-Jacques Rousseau, and with sobs in his throat. + </p> + <p> + Next day, as we were leaning our elbows on the same window sill, the same + woman perceived us and cried out to us: + </p> + <p> + “Good-day, scholars!” in a comical sort of tone, while she + made a contemptuous gesture with her hands. + </p> + <p> + I flung her a cigarette, which she immediately began to smoke. And the + four other ironers rushed out to the door with outstretched hands to get + cigarettes also. + </p> + <p> + And each day a friendly intercourse was established between the + working-women of the pavement and the idlers of the boarding school. + </p> + <p> + Pere Piquedent was really a comical sight. He trembled at being noticed, + for he might lose his position; and he made timid and ridiculous gestures, + quite a theatrical display of love signals, to which the women responded + with a regular fusillade of kisses. + </p> + <p> + A perfidious idea came into my mind. One day, on entering our room, I said + to the old usher in a low tone: + </p> + <p> + “You would not believe it, Monsieur Piquedent, I met the little + washerwoman! You know the one I mean, the woman who had the basket, and I + spoke to her!” + </p> + <p> + He asked, rather worried at my manner: + </p> + <p> + “What did she say to you?” + </p> + <p> + “She said to me—why, she said she thought you were very nice. + The fact of the matter is, I believe, I believe, that she is a little in + love with you.” I saw that he was growing pale. + </p> + <p> + “She is laughing at me, of course. These things don't happen at my + age,” he replied. + </p> + <p> + I said gravely: + </p> + <p> + “How is that? You are all right.” + </p> + <p> + As I felt that my trick had produced its effect on him, I did not press + the matter. + </p> + <p> + But every day I pretended that I had met the little laundress and that I + had spoken to her about him, so that in the end he believed me, and sent + her ardent and earnest kisses. + </p> + <p> + Now it happened that one morning, on my way to the boarding school, I + really came across her. I accosted her without hesitation, as if I had + known her for the last ten years. + </p> + <p> + “Good-day, mademoiselle. Are you quite well?” + </p> + <p> + “Very well, monsieur, thank you.” + </p> + <p> + “Will you have a cigarette?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! not in the street.” + </p> + <p> + “You can smoke it at home.” + </p> + <p> + “In that case, I will.” + </p> + <p> + “Let me tell you, mademoiselle, there's something you don't know.” + </p> + <p> + “What is that, monsieur?” + </p> + <p> + “The old gentleman—my old professor, I mean—” + </p> + <p> + “Pere Piquedent?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Pere Piquedent. So you know his name?” + </p> + <p> + “Faith, I do! What of that?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, he is in love with you!” + </p> + <p> + She burst out laughing wildly, and exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “You are only fooling.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! no, I am not fooling! He keeps talking of you all through the + lesson. I bet that he'll marry you!” + </p> + <p> + She ceased laughing. The idea of marriage makes every girl serious. Then + she repeated, with an incredulous air: + </p> + <p> + “This is humbug!” + </p> + <p> + “I swear to you, it's true.” + </p> + <p> + She picked up her basket which she had laid down at her feet. + </p> + <p> + “Well, we'll see,” she said. And she went away. + </p> + <p> + Presently when I had reached the boarding school, I took Pere Piquedent + aside, and said: + </p> + <p> + “You must write to her; she is infatuated with you.” + </p> + <p> + And he wrote a long letter, tenderly affectionate, full of phrases and + circumlocutions, metaphors and similes, philosophy and academic gallantry; + and I took on myself the responsibility of delivering it to the young + woman. + </p> + <p> + She read it with gravity, with emotion; then she murmured: + </p> + <p> + “How well he writes! It is easy to see he has got education! Does he + really mean to marry me?” + </p> + <p> + I replied intrepidly: “Faith, he has lost his head about you!” + </p> + <p> + “Then he must invite me to dinner on Sunday at the Ile des Fleurs.” + </p> + <p> + I promised that she should be invited. + </p> + <p> + Pere Piquedent was much touched by everything I told him about her. + </p> + <p> + I added: + </p> + <p> + “She loves you, Monsieur Piquedent, and I believe her to be a decent + girl. It is not right to lead her on and then abandon her.” + </p> + <p> + He replied in a firm tone: + </p> + <p> + “I hope I, too, am a decent man, my friend.” + </p> + <p> + I confess I had at the time no plan. I was playing a practical joke a + schoolboy joke, nothing more. I had been aware of the simplicity of the + old usher, his innocence and his weakness. I amused myself without asking + myself how it would turn out. I was eighteen, and I had been for a long + time looked upon at the lycee as a sly practical joker. + </p> + <p> + So it was agreed that Pere Piquedent and I should set out in a hack for + the ferry of Queue de Vache, that we should there pick up Angele, and that + I should take them into my boat, for in those days I was fond of boating. + I would then bring them to the Ile des Fleurs, where the three of us would + dine. I had inflicted myself on them, the better to enjoy my triumph, and + the usher, consenting to my arrangement, proved clearly that he was losing + his head by thus risking the loss of his position. + </p> + <p> + When we arrived at the ferry, where my boat had been moored since morning, + I saw in the grass, or rather above the tall weeds of the bank, an + enormous red parasol, resembling a monstrous wild poppy. Beneath the + parasol was the little laundress in her Sunday clothes. I was surprised. + She was really pretty, though pale; and graceful, though with a rather + suburban grace. + </p> + <p> + Pere Piquedent raised his hat and bowed. She put out her hand toward him, + and they stared at one another without uttering a word. Then they stepped + into my boat, and I took the oars. They were seated side by side near the + stern. + </p> + <p> + The usher was the first to speak. + </p> + <p> + “This is nice weather for a row in a boat.” + </p> + <p> + She murmured: + </p> + <p> + “Oh! yes.” + </p> + <p> + She dipped her hand into the water, skimming the surface, making a thin, + transparent film like a sheet of glass, which made a soft plashing along + the side of the boat. + </p> + <p> + When they were in the restaurant, she took it on herself to speak, and + ordered dinner, fried fish, a chicken, and salad; then she led us on + toward the isle, which she knew perfectly. + </p> + <p> + After this, she was gay, romping, and even rather tantalizing. + </p> + <p> + Until dessert, no question of love arose. I had treated them to champagne, + and Pere Piquedent was tipsy. Herself slightly the worse, she called out + to him: + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur Piquenez.” + </p> + <p> + He said abruptly: + </p> + <p> + “Mademoiselle, Monsieur Raoul has communicated my sentiments to you.” + </p> + <p> + She became as serious as a judge. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + “What is your reply?” + </p> + <p> + “We never reply to these questions!” + </p> + <p> + He puffed with emotion, and went on: + </p> + <p> + “Well, will the day ever come that you will like me?” + </p> + <p> + She smiled. + </p> + <p> + “You big stupid! You are very nice.” + </p> + <p> + “In short, mademoiselle, do you think that, later on, we might—” + </p> + <p> + She hesitated a second; then in a trembling voice she said: + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean to marry me when you say that? For on no other + condition, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, mademoiselle!” + </p> + <p> + “Well, that's all right, Monsieur Piquedent!” + </p> + <p> + It was thus that these two silly creatures promised marriage to each other + through the trick of a young scamp. But I did not believe that it was + serious, nor, indeed, did they, perhaps. + </p> + <p> + “You know, I have nothing, not four sous,” she said. + </p> + <p> + He stammered, for he was as drunk as Silenus: + </p> + <p> + “I have saved five thousand francs.” + </p> + <p> + She exclaimed triumphantly: + </p> + <p> + “Then we can set up in business?” + </p> + <p> + He became restless. + </p> + <p> + “In what business?” + </p> + <p> + “What do I know? We shall see. With five thousand francs we could do + many things. You don't want me to go and live in your boarding school, do + you?” + </p> + <p> + He had not looked forward so far as this, and he stammered in great + perplexity: + </p> + <p> + “What business could we set up in? That would not do, for all I know + is Latin!” + </p> + <p> + She reflected in her turn, passing in review all her business ambitions. + </p> + <p> + “You could not be a doctor?” + </p> + <p> + “No, I have no diploma.” + </p> + <p> + “Or a chemist?” + </p> + <p> + “No more than the other.” + </p> + <p> + She uttered a cry of joy. She had discovered it. + </p> + <p> + “Then we'll buy a grocer's shop! Oh! what luck! we'll buy a grocer's + shop. Not on a big scale, of course; with five thousand francs one does + not go far.” + </p> + <p> + He was shocked at the suggestion. + </p> + <p> + “No, I can't be a grocer. I am—I am—too well known: I + only know Latin, that is all I know.” + </p> + <p> + But she poured a glass of champagne down his throat. He drank it and was + silent. + </p> + <p> + We got back into the boat. The night was dark, very dark. I saw clearly, + however, that he had caught her by the waist, and that they were hugging + each other again and again. + </p> + <p> + It was a frightful catastrophe. Our escapade was discovered, with the + result that Pere Piquedent was dismissed. And my father, in a fit of + anger, sent me to finish my course of philosophy at Ribaudet's school. + </p> + <p> + Six months later I took my degree of Bachelor of Arts. Then I went to + study law in Paris, and did not return to my native town till two years + later. + </p> + <p> + At the corner of the Rue de Serpent a shop caught my eye. Over the door + were the words: “Colonial Products—Piquedent”; then + underneath, so as to enlighten the most ignorant: “Grocery.” + </p> + <p> + I exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “'Quantum mutatus ab illo!'” + </p> + <p> + Piquedent raised his head, left his female customer, and rushed toward me + with outstretched hands. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! my young friend, my young friend, here you are! What luck! what + luck!” + </p> + <p> + A beautiful woman, very plump, abruptly left the cashier's desk and flung + herself on my breast. I had some difficulty in recognizing her, she had + grown so stout. + </p> + <p> + I asked: + </p> + <p> + “So then you're doing well?” + </p> + <p> + Piquedent had gone back to weigh the groceries. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! very well, very well, very well. I have made three thousand + francs clear this year!” + </p> + <p> + “And what about Latin, Monsieur Piquedent?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, good heavens! Latin, Latin, Latin—you see it does not + keep the pot boiling!” + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0023"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + A MEETING + </h2> + <p> + It was nothing but an accident, an accident pure and simple. On that + particular evening the princess' rooms were open, and as they appeared + dark after the brilliantly lighted parlors, Baron d'Etraille, who was + tired of standing, inadvertently wandered into an empty bedroom. + </p> + <p> + He looked round for a chair in which to have a doze, as he was sure his + wife would not leave before daylight. As soon as he became accustomed to + the light of the room he distinguished the big bed with its azure-and-gold + hangings, in the middle of the great room, looking like a catafalque in + which love was buried, for the princess was no longer young. Behind it, a + large bright surface looked like a lake seen at a distance. It was a large + mirror, discreetly covered with dark drapery, that was very rarely let + down, and seemed to look at the bed, which was its accomplice. One might + almost fancy that it had reminiscences, and that one might see in it + charming female forms and the gentle movement of loving arms. + </p> + <p> + The baron stood still for a moment, smiling, almost experiencing an + emotion on the threshold of this chamber dedicated to love. But suddenly + something appeared in the looking-glass, as if the phantoms which he had + evoked had risen up before him. A man and a woman who had been sitting on + a low couch concealed in the shadow had arisen, and the polished surface, + reflecting their figures, showed that they were kissing each other before + separating. + </p> + <p> + Baron d'Etraille recognized his wife and the Marquis de Cervigne. He + turned and went away like a man who is fully master of himself, and waited + till it was day before taking away the baroness; but he had no longer any + thoughts of sleeping. + </p> + <p> + As soon as they were alone he said: + </p> + <p> + “Madame, I saw you just now in Princesse de Raynes' room; I need say + no more, and I am not fond either of reproaches, acts of violence, or of + ridicule. As I wish to avoid all such things, we shall separate without + any scandal. Our lawyers will settle your position according to my orders. + You will be free to live as you please when you are no longer under my + roof; but, as you will continue to bear my name, I must warn you that + should any scandal arise I shall show myself inflexible.” + </p> + <p> + She tried to speak, but he stopped her, bowed, and left the room. + </p> + <p> + He was more astonished and sad than unhappy. He had loved her dearly + during the first period of their married life; but his ardor had cooled, + and now he often amused himself elsewhere, either in a theatre or in + society, though he always preserved a certain liking for the baroness. + </p> + <p> + She was very young, hardly four-and-twenty, small, slight—too slight—and + very fair. She was a true Parisian doll: clever, spoiled, elegant, + coquettish, witty, with more charm than real beauty. He used to say + familiarly to his brother, when speaking of her: + </p> + <p> + “My wife is charming, attractive, but—there is nothing to lay + hold of. She is like a glass of champagne that is all froth; when you get + to the wine it is very good, but there is too little of it, unfortunately.” + </p> + <p> + He walked up and down the room in great agitation, thinking of a thousand + things. At one moment he was furious, and felt inclined to give the + marquis a good thrashing, or to slap his face publicly, in the club. But + he decided that would not do, it would not be good form; he would be + laughed at, and not his rival, and this thought wounded his vanity. So he + went to bed, but could not sleep. Paris knew in a few days that the Baron + and Baroness d'Etraille had agreed to an amicable separation on account of + incompatibility of temper. No one suspected anything, no one laughed, and + no one was astonished. + </p> + <p> + The baron, however, to avoid meeting his wife, travelled for a year, then + spent the summer at the seaside, and the autumn in shooting, returning to + Paris for the winter. He did not meet the baroness once. + </p> + <p> + He did not even know what people said about her. In any case, she took + care to respect appearances, and that was all he asked for. + </p> + <p> + He became dreadfully bored, travelled again, restored his old castle of + Villebosc, which took him two years; then for over a year he entertained + friends there, till at last, tired of all these so-called pleasures, he + returned to his mansion in the Rue de Lille, just six years after the + separation. + </p> + <p> + He was now forty-five, with a good crop of gray hair, rather stout, and + with that melancholy look characteristic of those who have been handsome, + sought after, and liked, but who are deteriorating, daily. + </p> + <p> + A month after his return to Paris, he took cold on coming out of his club, + and had such a bad cough that his medical man ordered him to Nice for the + rest of the winter. + </p> + <p> + He reached the station only a few minutes before the departure of the + train on Monday evening, and had barely time to get into a carriage, with + only one other occupant, who was sitting in a corner so wrapped in furs + and cloaks that he could not even make out whether it was a man or a + woman, as nothing of the figure could be seen. When he perceived that he + could not find out, he put on his travelling cap, rolled himself up in his + rugs, and stretched out comfortably to sleep. + </p> + <p> + He did not wake until the day was breaking, and looked at once at his + fellow-traveller, who had not stirred all night, and seemed still to be + sound asleep. + </p> + <p> + M. d'Etraille made use of the opportunity to brush his hair and his beard, + and to try to freshen himself up a little generally, for a night's travel + does not improve one's appearance when one has attained a certain age. + </p> + <p> + A great poet has said: + </p> + <p> + “When we are young, our mornings are triumphant!” + </p> + <p> + Then we wake up with a cool skin, a bright eye, and glossy hair. + </p> + <p> + As one grows older one wakes up in a very different condition. Dull eyes, + red, swollen cheeks, dry lips, hair and beard disarranged, impart an old, + fatigued, worn-out look to the face. + </p> + <p> + The baron opened his travelling case, and improved his looks as much as + possible. + </p> + <p> + The engine whistled, the train stopped, and his neighbor moved. No doubt + he was awake. They started off again, and then a slanting ray of sunlight + shone into the carriage and on the sleeper, who moved again, shook + himself, and then his face could be seen. + </p> + <p> + It was a young, fair, pretty, plump woman, and the baron looked at her in + amazement. He did not know what to think. He could really have sworn that + it was his wife, but wonderfully changed for the better: stouter —why + she had grown as stout as he was, only it suited her much better than it + did him. + </p> + <p> + She looked at him calmly, did not seem to recognize him, and then slowly + laid aside her wraps. She had that quiet assurance of a woman who is sure + of herself, who feels that on awaking she is in her full beauty and + freshness. + </p> + <p> + The baron was really bewildered. Was it his wife, or else as like her as + any sister could be? Not having seen her for six years, he might be + mistaken. + </p> + <p> + She yawned, and this gesture betrayed her. She turned and looked at him + again, calmly, indifferently, as if she scarcely saw him, and then looked + out of the window again. + </p> + <p> + He was upset and dreadfully perplexed, and kept looking at her sideways. + </p> + <p> + Yes; it was surely his wife. How could he possibly have doubted it? There + could certainly not be two noses like that, and a thousand recollections + flashed through his mind. He felt the old feeling of the intoxication of + love stealing over him, and he called to mind the sweet odor of her skin, + her smile when she put her arms on to his shoulders, the soft intonations + of her voice, all her graceful, coaxing ways. + </p> + <p> + But how she had changed and improved! It was she and yet not she. She + seemed riper, more developed, more of a woman, more seductive, more + desirable, adorably desirable. + </p> + <p> + And this strange, unknown woman, whom he had accidentally met in a railway + carriage, belonged to him; he had only to say to her: + </p> + <p> + “I insist upon it.” + </p> + <p> + He had formerly slept in her arms, existed only in her love, and now he + had found her again certainly, but so changed that he scarcely knew her. + It was another, and yet it was she herself. It was some one who had been + born and had formed and grown since he had left her. It was she, indeed; + she whom he had loved, but who was now altered, with a more assured smile + and greater self-possession. There were two women in one, mingling a great + part of what was new and unknown with many sweet recollections of the + past. There was something singular, disturbing, exciting about it —a + kind of mystery of love in which there floated a delicious confusion. It + was his wife in a new body and in new flesh which lips had never pressed. + </p> + <p> + And he thought that in a few years nearly every thing changes in us; only + the outline can be recognized, and sometimes even that disappears. + </p> + <p> + The blood, the hair, the skin, all changes and is renewed, and when people + have not seen each other for a long time, when they meet they find each + other totally different beings, although they are the same and bear the + same name. + </p> + <p> + And the heart also can change. Ideas may be modified and renewed, so that + in forty years of life we may, by gradual and constant transformations, + become four or five totally new and different beings. + </p> + <p> + He dwelt on this thought till it troubled him; it had first taken + possession of him when he surprised her in the princess' room. He was not + the least angry; it was not the same woman that he was looking at —that + thin, excitable little doll of those days. + </p> + <p> + What was he to do? How should he address her? and what could he say to + her? Had she recognized him? + </p> + <p> + The train stopped again. He got up, bowed, and said: “Bertha, do you + want anything I could bring you?” + </p> + <p> + She looked at him from head to foot, and answered, without showing the + slightest surprise, or confusion, or anger, but with the most perfect + indifference: + </p> + <p> + “I do not want anything—-thank you.” + </p> + <p> + He got out and walked up and down the platform a little in order to + recover himself, and, as it were, to recover his senses after a fall. What + should he do now? If he got into another carriage it would look as if he + were running away. Should he be polite or importunate? That would look as + if he were asking for forgiveness. Should he speak as if he were her + master? He would look like a fool, and, besides, he really had no right to + do so. + </p> + <p> + He got in again and took his place. + </p> + <p> + During his absence she had hastily arranged her dress and hair, and was + now lying stretched out on the seat, radiant, and without showing any + emotion. + </p> + <p> + He turned to her, and said: “My dear Bertha, since this singular + chance has brought up together after a separation of six years—a + quite friendly separation—are we to continue to look upon each other + as irreconcilable enemies? We are shut up together, tete-a-tete, which is + so much the better or so much the worse. I am not going to get into + another carriage, so don't you think it is preferable to talk as friends + till the end of our journey?” + </p> + <p> + She answered, quite calmly again: + </p> + <p> + “Just as you please.” + </p> + <p> + Then he suddenly stopped, really not knowing what to say; but as he had + plenty of assurance, he sat down on the middle seat, and said: + </p> + <p> + “Well, I see I must pay my court to you; so much the better. It is, + however, really a pleasure, for you are charming. You cannot imagine how + you have improved in the last six years. I do not know any woman who could + give me that delightful sensation which I experienced just now when you + emerged from your wraps. I really could not have thought such a change + possible.” + </p> + <p> + Without moving her head or looking at him, she said: “I cannot say + the same with regard to you; you have certainly deteriorated a great deal.” + </p> + <p> + He got red and confused, and then, with a smile of resignation, he said: + </p> + <p> + “You are rather hard.” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” was her reply. “I am only stating facts. I don't + suppose you intend to offer me your love? It must, therefore, be a matter + of perfect indifference to you what I think about you. But I see it is a + painful subject, so let us talk of something else. What have you been + doing since I last saw you?” + </p> + <p> + He felt rather out of countenance, and stammered: + </p> + <p> + “I? I have travelled, done some shooting, and grown old, as you see. + And you?” + </p> + <p> + She said, quite calmly: “I have taken care of appearances, as you + ordered me.” + </p> + <p> + He was very nearly saying something brutal, but he checked himself; and + kissed his wife's hand: + </p> + <p> + “And I thank you,” he said. + </p> + <p> + She was surprised. He was indeed diplomatic, and always master of himself. + </p> + <p> + He went on: “As you have acceded to my first request, shall we now + talk without any bitterness?” + </p> + <p> + She made a little movement of surprise. + </p> + <p> + “Bitterness? I don't feel any; you are a complete stranger to me; I + am only trying to keep up a difficult conversation.” + </p> + <p> + He was still looking at her, fascinated in spite of her harshness, and he + felt seized with a brutal Beside, the desire of the master. + </p> + <p> + Perceiving that she had hurt his feelings, she said: + </p> + <p> + “How old are you now? I thought you were younger than you look.” + </p> + <p> + “I am forty-five”; and then he added: “I forgot to ask + after Princesse de Raynes. Are you still intimate with her?” + </p> + <p> + She looked at him as if she hated him: + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I certainly am. She is very well, thank you.” + </p> + <p> + They remained sitting side by side, agitated and irritated. Suddenly he + said: + </p> + <p> + “My dear Bertha, I have changed my mind. You are my wife, and I + expect you to come with me to-day. You have, I think, improved both + morally and physically, and I am going to take you back again. I am your + husband, and it is my right to do so.” + </p> + <p> + She was stupefied, and looked at him, trying to divine his thoughts; but + his face was resolute and impenetrable. + </p> + <p> + “I am very sorry,” she said, “but I have made other + engagements.” + </p> + <p> + “So much the worse for you,” was his reply. “The law + gives me the power, and I mean to use it.” + </p> + <p> + They were nearing Marseilles, and the train whistled and slackened speed. + The baroness rose, carefully rolled up her wraps, and then, turning to her + husband, said: + </p> + <p> + “My dear Raymond, do not make a bad use of this tete-a tete which I + had carefully prepared. I wished to take precautions, according to your + advice, so that I might have nothing to fear from you or from other + people, whatever might happen. You are going to Nice, are you not?” + </p> + <p> + “I shall go wherever you go.” + </p> + <p> + “Not at all; just listen to me, and I am sure that you will leave me + in peace. In a few moments, when we get to the station, you will see the + Princesse de Raynes and Comtesse Henriot waiting for me with their + husbands. I wished them to see as, and to know that we had spent the night + together in the railway carriage. Don't be alarmed; they will tell it + everywhere as a most surprising fact. + </p> + <p> + “I told you just now that I had most carefully followed your advice + and saved appearances. Anything else does not matter, does it? Well, in + order to do so, I wished to be seen with you. You told me carefully to + avoid any scandal, and I am avoiding it, for, I am afraid—I am + afraid—” + </p> + <p> + She waited till the train had quite stopped, and as her friends ran up to + open the carriage door, she said: + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid”—hesitating—“that there is + another reason—je suis enceinte.” + </p> + <p> + The princess stretched out her arms to embrace her,—and the baroness + said, painting to the baron, who was dumb with astonishment, and was + trying to get at the truth: + </p> + <p> + “You do not recognize Raymond? He has certainly changed a good deal, + and he agreed to come with me so that I might not travel alone. We take + little trips like this occasionally, like good friends who cannot live + together. We are going to separate here; he has had enough of me already.” + </p> + <p> + She put out her hand, which he took mechanically, and then she jumped out + on to the platform among her friends, who were waiting for her. + </p> + <p> + The baron hastily shut the carriage door, for he was too much disturbed to + say a word or come to any determination. He heard his wife's voice and + their merry laughter as they went away. + </p> + <p> + He never saw her again, nor did he ever discover whether she had told him + a lie or was speaking the truth. + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0024"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + THE BLIND MAN + </h2> + <p> + How is it that the sunlight gives us such joy? Why does this radiance when + it falls on the earth fill us with the joy of living? The whole sky is + blue, the fields are green, the houses all white, and our enchanted eyes + drink in those bright colors which bring delight to our souls. And then + there springs up in our hearts a desire to dance, to run, to sing, a happy + lightness of thought, a sort of enlarged tenderness; we feel a longing to + embrace the sun. + </p> + <p> + The blind, as they sit in the doorways, impassive in their eternal + darkness, remain as calm as ever in the midst of this fresh gaiety, and, + not understanding what is taking place around them, they continually check + their dogs as they attempt to play. + </p> + <p> + When, at the close of the day, they are returning home on the arm of a + young brother or a little sister, if the child says: “It was a very + fine day!” the other answers: “I could notice that it was + fine. Loulou wouldn't keep quiet.” + </p> + <p> + I knew one of these men whose life was one of the most cruel martyrdoms + that could possibly be conceived. + </p> + <p> + He was a peasant, the son of a Norman farmer. As long as his father and + mother lived, he was more or less taken care of; he suffered little save + from his horrible infirmity; but as soon as the old people were gone, an + atrocious life of misery commenced for him. Dependent on a sister of his, + everybody in the farmhouse treated him as a beggar who is eating the bread + of strangers. At every meal the very food he swallowed was made a subject + of reproach against him; he was called a drone, a clown, and although his + brother-in-law had taken possession of his portion of the inheritance, he + was helped grudgingly to soup, getting just enough to save him from + starving. + </p> + <p> + His face was very pale and his two big white eyes looked like wafers. He + remained unmoved at all the insults hurled at him, so reserved that one + could not tell whether he felt them. + </p> + <p> + Moreover, he had never known any tenderness, his mother having always + treated him unkindly and caring very little for him; for in country places + useless persons are considered a nuisance, and the peasants would be glad + to kill the infirm of their species, as poultry do. + </p> + <p> + As soon as he finished his soup he went and sat outside the door in summer + and in winter beside the fireside, and did not stir again all the evening. + He made no gesture, no movement; only his eyelids, quivering from some + nervous affection, fell down sometimes over his white, sightless orbs. Had + he any intellect, any thinking faculty, any consciousness of his own + existence? Nobody cared to inquire. + </p> + <p> + For some years things went on in this fashion. But his incapacity for work + as well as his impassiveness eventually exasperated his relatives, and he + became a laughingstock, a sort of butt for merriment, a prey to the inborn + ferocity, to the savage gaiety of the brutes who surrounded him. + </p> + <p> + It is easy to imagine all the cruel practical jokes inspired by his + blindness. And, in order to have some fun in return for feeding him, they + now converted his meals into hours of pleasure for the neighbors and of + punishment for the helpless creature himself. + </p> + <p> + The peasants from the nearest houses came to this entertainment; it was + talked about from door to door, and every day the kitchen of the farmhouse + was full of people. Sometimes they placed before his plate, when he was + beginning to eat his soup, some cat or dog. The animal instinctively + perceived the man's infirmity, and, softly approaching, commenced eating + noiselessly, lapping up the soup daintily; and, when they lapped the food + rather noisily, rousing the poor fellow's attention, they would prudently + scamper away to avoid the blow of the spoon directed at random by the + blind man! + </p> + <p> + Then the spectators ranged along the wall would burst out laughing, nudge + each other and stamp their feet on the floor. And he, without ever + uttering a word, would continue eating with his right hand, while + stretching out his left to protect his plate. + </p> + <p> + Another time they made him chew corks, bits of wood, leaves or even filth, + which he was unable to distinguish. + </p> + <p> + After this they got tired even of these practical jokes, and the + brother-in-law, angry at having to support him always, struck him, cuffed + him incessantly, laughing at his futile efforts to ward off or return the + blows. Then came a new pleasure—the pleasure of smacking his face. + And the plough-men, the servant girls and even every passing vagabond were + every moment giving him cuffs, which caused his eyelashes to twitch + spasmodically. He did not know where to hide himself and remained with his + arms always held out to guard against people coming too close to him. + </p> + <p> + At last he was forced to beg. + </p> + <p> + He was placed somewhere on the high-road on market-days, and as soon as he + heard the sound of footsteps or the rolling of a vehicle, he reached out + his hat, stammering: + </p> + <p> + “Charity, if you please!” + </p> + <p> + But the peasant is not lavish, and for whole weeks he did not bring back a + sou. + </p> + <p> + Then he became the victim of furious, pitiless hatred. And this is how he + died. + </p> + <p> + One winter the ground was covered with snow, and it was freezing hard. His + brother-in-law led him one morning a great distance along the high road in + order that he might solicit alms. The blind man was left there all day; + and when night came on, the brother-in-law told the people of his house + that he could find no trace of the mendicant. Then he added: + </p> + <p> + “Pooh! best not bother about him! He was cold and got someone to + take him away. Never fear! he's not lost. He'll turn up soon enough + tomorrow to eat the soup.” + </p> + <p> + Next day he did not come back. + </p> + <p> + After long hours of waiting, stiffened with the cold, feeling that he was + dying, the blind man began to walk. Being unable to find his way along the + road, owing to its thick coating of ice, he went on at random, falling + into ditches, getting up again, without uttering a sound, his sole object + being to find some house where he could take shelter. + </p> + <p> + But, by degrees, the descending snow made a numbness steal over him, and + his feeble limbs being incapable of carrying him farther, he sat down in + the middle of an open field. He did not get up again. + </p> + <p> + The white flakes which fell continuously buried him, so that his body, + quite stiff and stark, disappeared under the incessant accumulation of + their rapidly thickening mass, and nothing was left to indicate the place + where he lay. + </p> + <p> + His relatives made a pretence of inquiring about him and searching for him + for about a week. They even made a show of weeping. + </p> + <p> + The winter was severe, and the thaw did not set in quickly. Now, one + Sunday, on their way to mass, the farmers noticed a great flight of crows, + who were whirling incessantly above the open field, and then descending + like a shower of black rain at the same spot, ever going and coming. + </p> + <p> + The following week these gloomy birds were still there. There was a crowd + of them up in the air, as if they had gathered from all corners of the + horizon, and they swooped down with a great cawing into the shining snow, + which they covered like black patches, and in which they kept pecking + obstinately. A young fellow went to see what they were doing and + discovered the body of the blind man, already half devoured, mangled. His + wan eyes had disappeared, pecked out by the long, voracious beaks. + </p> + <p> + And I can never feel the glad radiance of sunlit days without sadly + remembering and pondering over the fate of the beggar who was such an + outcast in life that his horrible death was a relief to all who had known + him. + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0025"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + INDISCRETION + </h2> + <p> + They had loved each other before marriage with a pure and lofty love. They + had first met on the sea-shore. He had thought this young girl charming, + as she passed by with her light-colored parasol and her dainty dress amid + the marine landscape against the horizon. He had loved her, blond and + slender, in these surroundings of blue ocean and spacious sky. He could + not distinguish the tenderness which this budding woman awoke in him from + the vague and powerful emotion which the fresh salt air and the grand + scenery of surf and sunshine and waves aroused in his soul. + </p> + <p> + She, on the other hand, had loved him because he courted her, because he + was young, rich, kind, and attentive. She had loved him because it is + natural for young girls to love men who whisper sweet nothings to them. + </p> + <p> + So, for three months, they had lived side by side, and hand in hand. The + greeting which they exchanged in the morning before the bath, in the + freshness of the morning, or in the evening on the sand, under the stars, + in the warmth of a calm night, whispered low, very low, already had the + flavor of kisses, though their lips had never met. + </p> + <p> + Each dreamed of the other at night, each thought of the other on awaking, + and, without yet having voiced their sentiments, each longing for the + other, body and soul. + </p> + <p> + After marriage their love descended to earth. It was at first a tireless, + sensuous passion, then exalted tenderness composed of tangible poetry, + more refined caresses, and new and foolish inventions. Every glance and + gesture was an expression of passion. + </p> + <p> + But, little by little, without even noticing it, they began to get tired + of each other. Love was still strong, but they had nothing more to reveal + to each other, nothing more to learn from each other, no new tale of + endearment, no unexpected outburst, no new way of expressing the + well-known, oft-repeated verb. + </p> + <p> + They tried, however, to rekindle the dwindling flame of the first love. + Every day they tried some new trick or desperate attempt to bring back to + their hearts the uncooled ardor of their first days of married life. They + tried moonlight walks under the trees, in the sweet warmth of the summer + evenings: the poetry of mist-covered beaches; the excitement of public + festivals. + </p> + <p> + One morning Henriette said to Paul: + </p> + <p> + “Will you take me to a cafe for dinner?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly, dearie.” + </p> + <p> + “To some well-known cafe?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course!” + </p> + <p> + He looked at her with a questioning glance, seeing that she was thinking + of something which she did not wish to tell. + </p> + <p> + She went on: + </p> + <p> + “You know, one of those cafes—oh, how can I explain myself?—a + sporty cafe!” + </p> + <p> + He smiled: “Of course, I understand—you mean in one of the + cafes which are commonly called bohemian.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, that's it. But take me to one of the big places, one where you + are known, one where you have already supped—no—dined—well, + you know—I—I—oh! I will never dare say it!” + </p> + <p> + “Go ahead, dearie. Little secrets should no longer exist between us.” + </p> + <p> + “No, I dare not.” + </p> + <p> + “Go on; don't be prudish. Tell me.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I—I—I want to be taken for your sweetheart—there! + and I want the boys, who do not know that you are married, to take me for + such; and you too—I want you to think that I am your sweetheart for + one hour, in that place which must hold so many memories for you. There! + And I will play that I am your sweetheart. It's awful, I know—I am + abominably ashamed, I am as red as a peony. Don't look at me!” + </p> + <p> + He laughed, greatly amused, and answered: + </p> + <p> + “All right, we will go to-night to a very swell place where I am + well known.” + </p> + <p> + Toward seven o'clock they went up the stairs of one of the big cafes on + the Boulevard, he, smiling, with the look of a conqueror, she, timid, + veiled, delighted. They were immediately shown to one of the luxurious + private dining-rooms, furnished with four large arm-chairs and a red plush + couch. The head waiter entered and brought them the menu. Paul handed it + to his wife. + </p> + <p> + “What do you want to eat?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't care; order whatever is good.” + </p> + <p> + After handing his coat to the waiter, he ordered dinner and champagne. The + waiter looked at the young woman and smiled. He took the order and + murmured: + </p> + <p> + “Will Monsieur Paul have his champagne sweet or dry?” + </p> + <p> + “Dry, very dry.” + </p> + <p> + Henriette was pleased to hear that this man knew her husband's name. They + sat on the couch, side by side, and began to eat. + </p> + <p> + Ten candles lighted the room and were reflected in the mirrors all around + them, which seemed to increase the brilliancy a thousand-fold. Henriette + drank glass after glass in order to keep up her courage, although she felt + dizzy after the first few glasses. Paul, excited by the memories which + returned to him, kept kissing his wife's hands. His eyes were sparkling. + </p> + <p> + She was feeling strangely excited in this new place, restless, pleased, a + little guilty, but full of life. Two waiters, serious, silent, accustomed + to seeing and forgetting everything, to entering the room only when it was + necessary and to leaving it when they felt they were intruding, were + silently flitting hither and thither. + </p> + <p> + Toward the middle of the dinner, Henriette was well under the influence of + champagne. She was prattling along fearlessly, her cheeks flushed, her + eyes glistening. + </p> + <p> + “Come, Paul; tell me everything.” + </p> + <p> + “What, sweetheart?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't dare tell you.” + </p> + <p> + “Go on!” + </p> + <p> + “Have you loved many women before me?” + </p> + <p> + He hesitated, a little perplexed, not knowing whether he should hide his + adventures or boast of them. + </p> + <p> + She continued: + </p> + <p> + “Oh! please tell me. How many have you loved?” + </p> + <p> + “A few.” + </p> + <p> + “How many?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know. How do you expect me to know such things?” + </p> + <p> + “Haven't you counted them?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course not.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you must have loved a good many!” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps.” + </p> + <p> + “About how many? Just tell me about how many.” + </p> + <p> + “But I don't know, dearest. Some years a good many, and some years + only a few.” + </p> + <p> + “How many a year, did you say?” + </p> + <p> + “Sometimes twenty or thirty, sometimes only four or five.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! that makes more than a hundred in all!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, just about.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! I think that is dreadful!” + </p> + <p> + “Why dreadful?” + </p> + <p> + “Because it's dreadful when you think of it—all those women—and + always—always the same thing. Oh! it's dreadful, just the same—more + than a hundred women!” + </p> + <p> + He was surprised that she should think that dreadful, and answered, with + the air of superiority which men take with women when they wish to make + them understand that they have said something foolish: + </p> + <p> + “That's funny! If it is dreadful to have a hundred women, it's + dreadful to have one.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no, not at all!” + </p> + <p> + “Why not?” + </p> + <p> + “Because with one woman you have a real bond of love which attaches + you to her, while with a hundred women it's not the same at all. There is + no real love. I don't understand how a man can associate with such women.” + </p> + <p> + “But they are all right.” + </p> + <p> + “No, they can't be!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, they are!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, stop; you disgust me!” + </p> + <p> + “But then, why did you ask me how many sweethearts I had had?” + </p> + <p> + “Because——” + </p> + <p> + “That's no reason!” + </p> + <p> + “What were they-actresses, little shop-girls, or society women?” + </p> + <p> + “A few of each.” + </p> + <p> + “It must have been rather monotonous toward the last.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no; it's amusing to change.” + </p> + <p> + She remained thoughtful, staring at her champagne glass. It was full + —she drank it in one gulp; then putting it back on the table, she + threw her arms around her husband's neck and murmured in his ear: + </p> + <p> + “Oh! how I love you, sweetheart! how I love you!” + </p> + <p> + He threw his arms around her in a passionate embrace. A waiter, who was + just entering, backed out, closing the door discreetly. In about five + minutes the head waiter came back, solemn and dignified, bringing the + fruit for dessert. She was once more holding between her fingers a full + glass, and gazing into the amber liquid as though seeking unknown things. + She murmured in a dreamy voice: + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it must be fun!” + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0026"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + A FAMILY AFFAIR + </h2> + <p> + The small engine attached to the Neuilly steam-tram whistled as it passed + the Porte Maillot to warn all obstacles to get out of its way and puffed + like a person out of breath as it sent out its steam, its pistons moving + rapidly with a noise as of iron legs running. The train was going along + the broad avenue that ends at the Seine. The sultry heat at the close of a + July day lay over the whole city, and from the road, although there was + not a breath of wind stirring, there arose a white, chalky, suffocating, + warm dust, which adhered to the moist skin, filled the eyes and got into + the lungs. People stood in the doorways of their houses to try and get a + breath of air. + </p> + <p> + The windows of the steam-tram were open and the curtains fluttered in the + wind. There were very few passengers inside, because on warm days people + preferred the outside or the platforms. They consisted of stout women in + peculiar costumes, of those shopkeepers' wives from the suburbs, who made + up for the distinguished looks which they did not possess by ill-assumed + dignity; of men tired from office-work, with yellow faces, stooped + shoulders, and with one shoulder higher than the other, in consequence of, + their long hours of writing at a desk. Their uneasy and melancholy faces + also spoke of domestic troubles, of constant want of money, disappointed + hopes, for they all belonged to the army of poor, threadbare devils who + vegetate economically in cheap, plastered houses with a tiny piece of + neglected garden on the outskirts of Paris, in the midst of those fields + where night soil is deposited. + </p> + <p> + A short, corpulent man, with a puffy face, dressed all in black and + wearing a decoration in his buttonhole, was talking to a tall, thin man, + dressed in a dirty, white linen suit, the coat all unbuttoned, with a + white Panama hat on his head. The former spoke so slowly and hesitatingly + that it occasionally almost seemed as if he stammered; he was Monsieur + Caravan, chief clerk in the Admiralty. The other, who had formerly been + surgeon on board a merchant ship, had set up in practice in Courbevoie, + where he applied the vague remnants of medical knowledge which he had + retained after an adventurous life, to the wretched population of that + district. His name was Chenet, and strange rumors were current as to his + morality. + </p> + <p> + Monsieur Caravan had always led the normal life of a man in a Government + office. For the last thirty years he had invariably gone the same way to + his office every morning, and had met the same men going to business at + the same time, and nearly on the same spot, and he returned home every + evening by the same road, and again met the same faces which he had seen + growing old. Every morning, after buying his penny paper at the corner of + the Faubourg Saint Honore, he bought two rolls, and then went to his + office, like a culprit who is giving himself up to justice, and got to his + desk as quickly as possible, always feeling uneasy; as though he were + expecting a rebuke for some neglect of duty of which he might have been + guilty. + </p> + <p> + Nothing had ever occurred to change the monotonous order of his existence, + for no event affected him except the work of his office, perquisites, + gratuities, and promotion. He never spoke of anything but of his duties, + either at the office, or at home—he had married the portionless + daughter of one of his colleagues. His mind, which was in a state of + atrophy from his depressing daily work, had no other thoughts, hopes or + dreams than such as related to the office, and there was a constant source + of bitterness that spoilt every pleasure that he might have had, and that + was the employment of so many naval officials, tinsmiths, as they were + called because of their silver-lace as first-class clerks; and every + evening at dinner he discussed the matter hotly with his wife, who shared + his angry feelings, and proved to their own satisfaction that it was in + every way unjust to give places in Paris to men who ought properly to have + been employed in the navy. + </p> + <p> + He was old now, and had scarcely noticed how his life was passing, for + school had merely been exchanged for the office without any intermediate + transition, and the ushers, at whom he had formerly trembled, were + replaced by his chiefs, of whom he was terribly afraid. When he had to go + into the rooms of these official despots, it made him tremble from head to + foot, and that constant fear had given him a very awkward manner in their + presence, a humble demeanor, and a kind of nervous stammering. + </p> + <p> + He knew nothing more about Paris than a blind man might know who was led + to the same spot by his dog every day; and if he read the account of any + uncommon events or scandals in his penny paper, they appeared to him like + fantastic tales, which some pressman had made up out of his own head, in + order to amuse the inferior employees. He did not read the political news, + which his paper frequently altered as the cause which subsidized it might + require, for he was not fond of innovations, and when he went through the + Avenue of the Champs-Elysees every evening, he looked at the surging crowd + of pedestrians, and at the stream of carriages, as a traveller might who + has lost his way in a strange country. + </p> + <p> + As he had completed his thirty years of obligatory service that year, on + the first of January, he had had the cross of the Legion of Honor bestowed + upon him, which, in the semi-military public offices, is a recompense for + the miserable slavery—the official phrase is, loyal services—of + unfortunate convicts who are riveted to their desk. That unexpected + dignity gave him a high and new idea of his own capacities, and altogether + changed him. He immediately left off wearing light trousers and fancy + waistcoats, and wore black trousers and long coats, on which his ribbon, + which was very broad, showed off better. He got shaved every morning, + manicured his nails more carefully, changed his linen every two days, from + a legitimate sense of what was proper, and out of respect for the national + Order, of which he formed a part, and from that day he was another + Caravan, scrupulously clean, majestic and condescending. + </p> + <p> + At home, he said, “my cross,” at every moment, and he had + become so proud of it, that he could not bear to see men wearing any other + ribbon in their button-holes. He became especially angry on seeing strange + orders: “Which nobody ought to be allowed to wear in France,” + and he bore Chenet a particular grudge, as he met him on a tram-car every + evening, wearing a decoration of one kind or another, white, blue, orange, + or green. + </p> + <p> + The conversation of the two men, from the Arc de Triomphe to Neuilly, was + always the same, and on that day they discussed, first of all, various + local abuses which disgusted them both, and the Mayor of Neuilly received + his full share of their censure. Then, as invariably happens in the + company of medical men, Caravan began to enlarge on the chapter of illness, + as in that manner, he hoped to obtain a little gratuitous advice, if he + was careful not to show his hand. His mother had been causing him no + little anxiety for some time; she had frequent and prolonged fainting + fits, and, although she was ninety, she would not take care of herself. + </p> + <p> + Caravan grew quite tender-hearted when he mentioned her great age, and + more than once asked Doctor Chenet, emphasizing the word doctor—although + he was not fully qualified, being only an Offcier de Sante—whether + he had often met anyone as old as that. And he rubbed his hands with + pleasure; not, perhaps, that he cared very much about seeing the good + woman last forever here on earth, but because the long duration of his + mother's life was, as it were an earnest of old age for himself, and he + continued: + </p> + <p> + “In my family, we last long, and I am sure that, unless I meet with + an accident, I shall not die until I am very old.” + </p> + <p> + The doctor looked at him with pity, and glanced for a moment at his + neighbor's red face, his short, thick neck, his “corporation,” + as Chenet called it to himself, his two fat, flabby legs, and the + apoplectic rotundity of the old official; and raising the white Panama hat + from his head, he said with a snigger: + </p> + <p> + “I am not so sure of that, old fellow; your mother is as tough as + nails, and I should say that your life is not a very good one.” + </p> + <p> + This rather upset Caravan, who did not speak again until the tram put them + down at their destination, where the two friends got out, and Chenet asked + his friend to have a glass of vermouth at the Cafe du Globe, opposite, + which both of them were in the habit of frequenting. The proprietor, who + was a friend of theirs, held out to them two fingers, which they shook + across the bottles of the counter; and then they joined three of their + friends, who were playing dominoes, and who had been there since midday. + They exchanged cordial greetings, with the usual question: “Anything + new?” And then the three players continued their game, and held out + their hands without looking up, when the others wished them “Good-night,” + and then they both went home to dinner. + </p> + <p> + Caravan lived in a small two-story house in Courbevaie, near where the + roads meet; the ground floor was occupied by a hair-dresser. Two bed + rooms, a dining-room and a kitchen, formed the whole of their apartments, + and Madame Caravan spent nearly her whole time in cleaning them up, while + her daughter, Marie-Louise, who was twelve, and her son, Phillip-Auguste, + were running about with all the little, dirty, mischievous brats of the + neighborhood, and playing in the gutter. + </p> + <p> + Caravan had installed his mother, whose avarice was notorious in the + neighborhood, and who was terribly thin, in the room above them. She was + always cross, and she never passed a day without quarreling and flying + into furious tempers. She would apostrophize the neighbors, who were + standing at their own doors, the coster-mongers, the street-sweepers, and + the street-boys, in the most violent language; and the latter, to have + their revenge, used to follow her at a distance when she went out, and + call out rude things after her. + </p> + <p> + A little servant from Normandy, who was incredibly giddy and thoughtless, + performed the household work, and slept on the second floor in the same + room as the old woman, for fear of anything happening to her in the night. + </p> + <p> + When Caravan got in, his wife, who suffered from a chronic passion for + cleaning, was polishing up the mahogany chairs that were scattered about + the room with a piece of flannel. She always wore cotton gloves, and + adorned her head with a cap ornamented with many colored ribbons, which + was always tilted over one ear; and whenever anyone caught her polishing, + sweeping, or washing, she used to say: + </p> + <p> + “I am not rich; everything is very simple in my house, but + cleanliness is my luxury, and that is worth quite as much as any other.” + </p> + <p> + As she was gifted with sound, obstinate, practical common sense, she led + her husband in everything. Every evening during dinner, and afterwards + when they were in their room, they talked over the business of the office + for a long time, and although she was twenty years younger than he was, he + confided everything to her as if she took the lead, and followed her + advice in every matter. + </p> + <p> + She had never been pretty, and now she had grown ugly; in addition to + that, she was short and thin, while her careless and tasteless way of + dressing herself concealed her few small feminine attractions, which might + have been brought out if she had possessed any taste in dress. Her skirts + were always awry, and she frequently scratched herself, no matter on what + part of her person, totally indifferent as to who might see her, and so + persistently, that anyone who saw her might think that she was suffering + from something like the itch. The only adornments that she allowed herself + were silk ribbons, which she had in great profusion, and of various colors + mixed together, in the pretentious caps which she wore at home. + </p> + <p> + As soon as she saw her husband she rose and said, as she kissed his + whiskers: + </p> + <p> + “Did you remember Potin, my dear?” + </p> + <p> + He fell into a chair, in consternation, for that was the fourth time on + which he had forgotten a commission that he had promised to do for her. + </p> + <p> + “It is a fatality,” he said; “it is no good for me to + think of it all day long, for I am sure to forget it in the evening.” + </p> + <p> + But as he seemed really so very sorry, she merely said, quietly: + </p> + <p> + “You will think of it to-morrow, I dare say. Anything new at the + office?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, a great piece of news; another tinsmith has been appointed + second chief clerk.” She became very serious, and said: + </p> + <p> + “So he succeeds Ramon; this was the very post that I wanted you to + have. And what about Ramon?” + </p> + <p> + “He retires on his pension.” + </p> + <p> + She became furious, her cap slid down on her shoulder, and she continued: + </p> + <p> + “There is nothing more to be done in that shop now. And what is the + name of the new commissioner?” + </p> + <p> + “Bonassot.” + </p> + <p> + She took up the Naval Year Book, which she always kept close at hand, and + looked him up. + </p> + <p> + “'Bonassot-Toulon. Born in 1851. Student Commissioner in 1871. + Sub-Commissioner in 1875.' Has he been to sea?” she continued. At + that question Caravan's looks cleared up, and he laughed until his sides + shook. + </p> + <p> + “As much as Balin—as much as Baffin, his chief.” And he + added an old office joke, and laughed more than ever: + </p> + <p> + “It would not even do to send them by water to inspect the + Point-du-Jour, for they would be sick on the penny steamboats on the + Seine.” + </p> + <p> + But she remained as serious as if she had not heard him, and then she said + in a low voice, as she scratched her chin: + </p> + <p> + “If we only had a Deputy to fall back upon. When the Chamber hears + everything that is going on at the Admiralty, the Minister will be turned + out——” + </p> + <p> + She was interrupted by a terrible noise on the stairs. Marie-Louise and + Philippe-Auguste, who had just come in from the gutter, were slapping each + other all the way upstairs. Their mother rushed at them furiously, and + taking each of them by an arm she dragged them into the room, shaking them + vigorously; but as soon as they saw their father, they rushed up to him, + and he kissed them affectionately, and taking one of them on each knee, + began to talk to them. + </p> + <p> + Philippe-Auguste was an ugly, ill-kempt little brat, dirty from head to + foot, with the face of an idiot, and Marie-Louise was already like her + mother—spoke like her, repeated her words, and even imitated her + movements. She also asked him whether there was anything fresh at the + office, and he replied merrily: + </p> + <p> + “Your friend, Ramon, who comes and dines here every Sunday, is going + to leave us, little one. There is a new second head-clerk.” + </p> + <p> + She looked at her father, and with a precocious child's pity, she said: + </p> + <p> + “Another man has been put over your head again.” + </p> + <p> + He stopped laughing, and did not reply, and in order to create a + diversion, he said, addressing his wife, who was cleaning the windows: + </p> + <p> + “How is mamma, upstairs?” + </p> + <p> + Madame Caravan left off rubbing, turned round pulled her cap up, as it had + fallen quite on to her back, and said with trembling lips: + </p> + <p> + “Ah! yes; let us talk about your mother, for she has made a pretty + scene. Just imagine: a short time ago Madame Lebaudin, the hairdresser's + wife, came upstairs to borrow a packet of starch of me, and, as I was not + at home, your mother chased her out as though she were a beggar; but I + gave it to the old woman. She pretended not to hear, as she always does + when one tells her unpleasant truths, but she is no more deaf than I am, + as you know. It is all a sham, and the proof of it is, that she went up to + her own room immediately, without saying a word.” + </p> + <p> + Caravan, embarrassed, did not utter a word, and at that moment the little + servant came in to announce dinner. In order to let his mother know, he + took a broom-handle, which always stood in a corner, and rapped loudly on + the ceiling three times, and then they went into the dining-room. Madame + Caravan, junior, helped the soup, and waited for the old woman, but she + did not come, and as the soup was getting cold, they began to eat slowly, + and when their plates were empty, they waited again, and Madame Caravan, + who was furious, attacked her husband: + </p> + <p> + “She does it on purpose, you know that as well as I do. But you + always uphold her.” + </p> + <p> + Not knowing which side to take, he sent Marie-Louise to fetch her + grandmother, and he sat motionless, with his eyes cast down, while his + wife tapped her glass angrily with her knife. In about a minute, the door + flew open suddenly, and the child came in again, out of breath and very + pale, and said hurriedly: + </p> + <p> + “Grandmamma has fallen on the floor.” + </p> + <p> + Caravan jumped up, threw his table-napkin down, and rushed upstairs, while + his wife, who thought it was some trick of her mother-in-law's, followed + more slowly, shrugging her shoulders, as if to express her doubt. When + they got upstairs, however, they found the old woman lying at full length + in the middle of the room; and when they turned her over, they saw that + she was insensible and motionless, while her skin looked more wrinkled and + yellow than usual, her eyes were closed, her teeth clenched, and her thin + body was stiff. + </p> + <p> + Caravan knelt down by her, and began to moan. + </p> + <p> + “My poor mother! my poor mother!” he said. But the other + Madame Caravan said: + </p> + <p> + “Bah! She has only fainted again, that is all, and she has done it + to prevent us from dining comfortably, you may be sure of that.” + </p> + <p> + They put her on the bed, undressed her completely, and Caravan, his wife, + and the servant began to rub her; but, in spite of their efforts, she did + not recover consciousness, so they sent Rosalie, the servant, to fetch + Doctor Chenet. He lived a long way off, on the quay, going towards + Suresnes, and so it was a considerable time before he arrived. He came at + last, however, and, after having looked at the old woman, felt her pulse, + and listened for a heart beat, he said: “It is all over.” + </p> + <p> + Caravan threw himself on the body, sobbing violently; he kissed his + mother's rigid face, and wept so that great tears fell on the dead woman's + face like drops of water, and, naturally, Madame Caravan, junior, showed a + decorous amount of grief, and uttered feeble moans as she stood behind her + husband, while she rubbed her eyes vigorously. + </p> + <p> + But, suddenly, Caravan raised himself up, with his thin hair in disorder, + and, looking very ugly in his grief, said: + </p> + <p> + “But—are you sure, doctor? Are you quite sure?” + </p> + <p> + The doctor stooped over the body, and, handling it with professional + dexterity, as a shopkeeper might do, when showing off his goods, he said: + </p> + <p> + “See, my dear friend, look at her eye.” + </p> + <p> + He raised the eyelid, and the old woman's eye appeared altogether + unaltered, unless, perhaps, the pupil was rather larger, and Caravan felt + a severe shock at the sight. Then Monsieur Chenet took her thin arm, + forced the fingers open, and said, angrily, as if he had been + contradicted: + </p> + <p> + “Just look at her hand; I never make a mistake, you may be quite + sure of that.” + </p> + <p> + Caravan fell on the bed, and almost bellowed, while his wife, still + whimpering, did what was necessary. + </p> + <p> + She brought the night-table, on which she spread a towel and placed four + wax candles on it, which she lighted; then she took a sprig of box, which + was hanging over the chimney glass, and put it between the four candles, + in a plate, which she filled with clean water, as she had no holy water. + But, after a moment's rapid reflection, she threw a pinch of salt into the + water, no doubt thinking she was performing some sort of act of + consecration by doing that, and when she had finished, she remained + standing motionless, and the doctor, who had been helping her, whispered + to her: + </p> + <p> + “We must take Caravan away.” + </p> + <p> + She nodded assent, and, going up to her husband, who was still on his + knees, sobbing, she raised him up by one arm, while Chenet took him by the + other. + </p> + <p> + They put him into a chair, and his wife kissed his forehead, and then + began to lecture him. Chenet enforced her words and preached firmness, + courage, and resignation—the very things which are always wanting in + such overwhelming misfortunes—and then both of them took him by the + arms again and led him out. + </p> + <p> + He was crying like a great child, with convulsive sobs; his arms hanging + down, and his legs weak, and he went downstairs without knowing what he + was doing, and moving his feet mechanically. They put him into the chair + which he always occupied at dinner, in front of his empty soup plate. And + there he sat, without moving, his eyes fixed on his glass, and so + stupefied with grief, that he could not even think. + </p> + <p> + In a corner, Madame Caravan was talking with the doctor and asking what + the necessary formalities were, as she wanted to obtain practical + information. At last, Monsieur Chenet, who appeared to be waiting for + something, took up his hat and prepared to go, saying that he had not + dined yet; whereupon she exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “What! you have not dined? Why, stay here, doctor; don't go. You + shall have whatever we have, for, of course, you understand that we do not + fare sumptuously.” He made excuses and refused, but she persisted, + and said: “You really must stay; at times like this, people like to + have friends near them, and, besides that, perhaps you will be able to + persuade my husband to take some nourishment; he must keep up his + strength.” + </p> + <p> + The doctor bowed, and, putting down his hat, he said: + </p> + <p> + “In that case, I will accept your invitation, madame.” + </p> + <p> + She gave Rosalie, who seemed to have lost her head, some orders, and then + sat down, “to pretend to eat,” as she said, “to keep the + doctor company.” + </p> + <p> + The soup was brought in again, and Monsieur Chenet took two helpings. Then + there came a dish of tripe, which exhaled a smell of onions, and which + Madame Caravan made up her mind to taste. + </p> + <p> + “It is excellent,” the doctor said, at which she smiled, and, + turning to her husband, she said: + </p> + <p> + “Do take a little, my poor Alfred, only just to put something in + your stomach. Remember that you have got to pass the night watching by + her!” + </p> + <p> + He held out his plate, docilely, just as he would have gone to bed, if he + had been told to, obeying her in everything, without resistance and + without reflection, and he ate; the doctor helped himself three times, + while Madame Caravan, from time to time, fished out a large piece at the + end of her fork, and swallowed it with a sort of studied indifference. + </p> + <p> + When a salad bowl full of macaroni was brought in, the doctor said: + </p> + <p> + “By Jove! That is what I am very fond of.” And this time, + Madame Caravan helped everybody. She even filled the saucers that were + being scraped by the children, who, being left to themselves, had been + drinking wine without any water, and were now kicking each other under the + table. + </p> + <p> + Chenet remembered that Rossini, the composer, had been very fond of that + Italian dish, and suddenly he exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “Why! that rhymes, and one could begin some lines like this: + </p> +<div class='pre'> + The Maestro Rossini + Was fond of macaroni.” + </div> + <p> + Nobody listened to him, however. Madame Caravan, who had suddenly grown + thoughtful, was thinking of all the probable consequences of the event, + while her husband made bread pellets, which he put on the table-cloth, and + looked at with a fixed, idiotic stare. As he was devoured by thirst, he + was continually raising his glass full of wine to his lips, and the + consequence was that his mind, which had been upset by the shock and + grief, seemed to become vague, and his ideas danced about as digestion + commenced. + </p> + <p> + The doctor, who, meanwhile, had been drinking away steadily, was getting + visibly drunk, and Madame Caravan herself felt the reaction which follows + all nervous shocks, and was agitated and excited, and, although she had + drunk nothing but water, her head felt rather confused. + </p> + <p> + Presently, Chenet began to relate stories of death that appeared comical + to him. For in that suburb of Paris, that is full of people from the + provinces, one finds that indifference towards death which all peasants + show, were it even their own father or mother; that want of respect, that + unconscious brutality which is so common in the country, and so rare in + Paris, and he said: + </p> + <p> + “Why, I was sent for last week to the Rue du Puteaux, and when I + went, I found the patient dead and the whole family calmly sitting beside + the bed finishing a bottle of aniseed cordial, which had been bought the + night before to satisfy the dying man's fancy.” + </p> + <p> + But Madame Caravan was not listening; she was continually thinking of the + inheritance, and Caravan was incapable of understanding anything further. + </p> + <p> + Coffee was presently served, and it had been made very strong to give them + courage. As every cup was well flavored with cognac, it made all their + faces red, and confused their ideas still more. To make matters still + worse, Chenet suddenly seized the brandy bottle and poured out “a + drop for each of them just to wash their mouths out with,” as he + termed it, and then, without speaking any more, overcome in spite of + themselves, by that feeling of animal comfort which alcohol affords after + dinner, they slowly sipped the sweet cognac, which formed a yellowish + syrup at the bottom of their cups. + </p> + <p> + The children had fallen asleep, and Rosalie carried them off to bed. + Caravan, mechanically obeying that wish to forget oneself which possesses + all unhappy persons, helped himself to brandy again several times, and his + dull eyes grew bright. At last the doctor rose to go, and seizing his + friend's arm, he said: + </p> + <p> + “Come with me; a little fresh air will do you good. When one is in + trouble, one must not remain in one spot.” + </p> + <p> + The other obeyed mechanically, put on his hat, took his stick, and went + out, and both of them walked arm-in-arm towards the Seine, in the + starlight night. + </p> + <p> + The air was warm and sweet, for all the gardens in the neighborhood were + full of flowers at this season of the year, and their fragrance, which is + scarcely perceptible during the day, seemed to awaken at the approach of + night, and mingled with the light breezes which blew upon them in the + darkness. + </p> + <p> + The broad avenue with its two rows of gas lamps, that extended as far as + the Arc de Triomphe, was deserted and silent, but there was the distant + roar of Paris, which seemed to have a reddish vapor hanging over it. It + was a kind of continual rumbling, which was at times answered by the + whistle of a train in the distance, travelling at full speed to the ocean, + through the provinces. + </p> + <p> + The fresh air on the faces of the two men rather overcame them at first, + made the doctor lose his equilibrium a little, and increased Caravan's + giddiness, from which he had suffered since dinner. He walked as if he + were in a dream; his thoughts were paralyzed, although he felt no great + grief, for he was in a state of mental torpor that prevented him from + suffering, and he even felt a sense of relief which was increased by the + mildness of the night. + </p> + <p> + When they reached the bridge, they turned to the right, and got the fresh + breeze from the river, which rolled along, calm and melancholy, bordered + by tall poplar trees, while the stars looked as if they were floating on + the water and were moving with the current. A slight white mist that + floated over the opposite banks, filled their lungs with a sensation of + cold, and Caravan stopped suddenly, for he was struck by that smell from + the water which brought back old memories to his mind. For, in his mind, + he suddenly saw his mother again, in Picardy, as he had seen her years + before, kneeling in front of their door, and washing the heaps of linen at + her side in the stream that ran through their garden. He almost fancied + that he could hear the sound of the wooden paddle with which she beat the + linen in the calm silence of the country, and her voice, as she called out + to him: “Alfred, bring me some soap.” And he smelled that odor + of running water, of the mist rising from the wet ground, that marshy + smell, which he should never forget, and which came back to him on this + very evening on which his mother had died. + </p> + <p> + He stopped, seized with a feeling of despair. A sudden flash seemed to + reveal to him the extent of his calamity, and that breath from the river + plunged him into an abyss of hopeless grief. His life seemed cut in half, + his youth disappeared, swallowed up by that death. All the former days + were over and done with, all the recollections of his youth had been swept + away; for the future, there would be nobody to talk to him of what had + happened in days gone by, of the people he had known of old, of his own + part of the country, and of his past life; that was a part of his + existence which existed no longer, and the rest might as well end now. + </p> + <p> + And then he saw “the mother” as she was when young, wearing + well-worn dresses, which he remembered for such a long time that they + seemed inseparable from her; he recollected her movements, the different + tones of her voice, her habits, her predilections, her fits of anger, the + wrinkles on her face, the movements of her thin fingers, and all her + well-known attitudes, which she would never have again, and clutching hold + of the doctor, he began to moan and weep. His thin legs began to tremble, + his whole stout body was shaken by his sobs, all he could say was: + </p> + <p> + “My mother, my poor mother, my poor mother!” + </p> + <p> + But his companion, who was still drunk, and who intended to finish the + evening in certain places of bad repute that he frequented secretly, made + him sit down on the grass by the riverside, and left him almost + immediately, under the pretext that he had to see a patient. + </p> + <p> + Caravan went on crying for some time, and when he had got to the end of + his tears, when his grief had, so to say, run out, he again felt relief, + repose and sudden tranquillity. + </p> + <p> + The moon had risen, and bathed the horizon in its soft light. + </p> + <p> + The tall poplar trees had a silvery sheen on them, and the mist on the + plain looked like drifting snow; the river, in which the stars were + reflected, and which had a sheen as of mother-of-pearl, was gently rippled + by the wind. The air was soft and sweet, and Caravan inhaled it almost + greedily, and thought that he could perceive a feeling of freshness, of + calm and of superhuman consolation pervading him. + </p> + <p> + He actually resisted that feeling of comfort and relief, and kept on + saying to himself: “My poor mother, my poor mother!” and tried + to make himself cry, from a kind of conscientious feeling; but he could + not succeed in doing so any longer, and those sad thoughts, which had made + him sob so bitterly a shore time before, had almost passed away. In a few + moments, he rose to go home, and returned slowly, under the influence of + that serene night, and with a heart soothed in spite of himself. + </p> + <p> + When he reached the bridge, he saw that the last tramcar was ready to + start, and behind it were the brightly lighted windows of the Cafe du + Globe. He felt a longing to tell somebody of his loss, to excite pity, to + make himself interesting. He put on a woeful face, pushed open the door, + and went up to the counter, where the landlord still was. He had counted + on creating a sensation, and had hoped that everybody would get up and + come to him with outstretched hands, and say: “Why, what is the + matter with you?” But nobody noticed his disconsolate face, so he + rested his two elbows on the counter, and, burying his face in his hands, + he murmured: “Mon Dieu! Mon Dieu!” + </p> + <p> + The landlord looked at him and said: “Are you ill, Monsieur Caravan?” + </p> + <p> + “No, my friend,” he replied, “but my mother has just + died.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” the other exclaimed, and as a customer at the other end + of the establishment asked for a glass of Bavarian beer, he went to attend + to him, leaving Caravan dumfounded at his want of sympathy. + </p> + <p> + The three domino players were sitting at the same table which they had + occupied before dinner, totally absorbed in their game, and Caravan went + up to them, in search of pity, but as none of them appeared to notice him + he made up his mind to speak. + </p> + <p> + “A great misfortune has happened to me since I was here,” he + said. + </p> + <p> + All three slightly raised their heads at the same instant, but keeping + their eyes fixed on the pieces which they held in their hands. + </p> + <p> + “What do you say?” + </p> + <p> + “My mother has just died”; whereupon one of them said: + </p> + <p> + “Oh! the devil,” with that false air of sorrow which + indifferent people assume. Another, who could not find anything to say, + emitted a sort of sympathetic whistle, shaking his head at the same time, + and the third turned to the game again, as if he were saying to himself: + “Is that all!” + </p> + <p> + Caravan had expected some of these expressions that are said to “come + from the heart,” and when he saw how his news was received, he left + the table, indignant at their calmness at their friend's sorrow, although + this sorrow had stupefied him so that he scarcely felt it any longer. When + he got home his wife was waiting for him in her nightgown, and sitting in + a low chair by the open window, still thinking of the inheritance. + </p> + <p> + “Undress yourself,” she said; “we can go on talking.” + </p> + <p> + He raised his head, and looking at the ceiling, said: + </p> + <p> + “But—there is nobody upstairs.” + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon, Rosalie is with her, and you can go and take her + place at three o'clock in the morning, when you have had some sleep.” + </p> + <p> + He only partially undressed, however, so as to be ready for anything that + might happen, and after tying a silk handkerchief round his head, he lay + down to rest, and for some time neither of them spoke. Madame Caravan was + thinking. + </p> + <p> + Her nightcap was adorned with a red bow, and was pushed rather to one + side, as was the way with all the caps she wore, and presently she turned + towards him and said: + </p> + <p> + “Do you know whether your mother made a will?” + </p> + <p> + He hesitated for a moment, and then replied: + </p> + <p> + “I—I do not think so. No, I am sure that she did not.” + </p> + <p> + His wife looked at him, and she said, in a low, angry tone: + </p> + <p> + “I call that infamous; here we have been wearing ourselves out for + ten years in looking after her, and have boarded and lodged her! Your + sister would not have done so much for her, nor I either, if I had known + how I was to be rewarded! Yes, it is a disgrace to her memory! I dare say + that you will tell me that she paid us, but one cannot pay one's children + in ready money for what they do; that obligation is recognized after + death; at any rate, that is how honorable people act. So I have had all my + worry and trouble for nothing! Oh, that is nice! that is very nice!” + </p> + <p> + Poor Caravan, who was almost distracted, kept on repeating: + </p> + <p> + “My dear, my dear, please, please be quiet.” + </p> + <p> + She grew calmer by degrees, and, resuming her usual voice and manner, she + continued: + </p> + <p> + “We must let your sister know to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + He started, and said: + </p> + <p> + “Of course we must; I had forgotten all about it; I will send her a + telegram the first thing in the morning.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” she replied, like a woman who had foreseen everything; + “no, do not send it before ten or eleven o'clock, so that we may + have time to turn round before she comes. It does not take more than two + hours to get here from Charenton, and we can say that you lost your head + from grief. If we let her know in the course of the day, that will be soon + enough, and will give us time to look round.” + </p> + <p> + Caravan put his hand to his forehead, and, in the came timid voice in + which he always spoke of his chief, the very thought of whom made him + tremble, he said: + </p> + <p> + “I must let them know at the office.” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” she replied. “On occasions like this, it is + always excusable to forget. Take my advice, and don't let him know; your + chief will not be able to say anything to you, and you will put him in a + nice fix. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! yes, that I shall, and he will be in a terrible rage, too, when + he notices my absence. Yes, you are right; it is a capital idea, and when + I tell him that my mother is dead, he will be obliged to hold his tongue.” + </p> + <p> + And he rubbed his hands in delight at the joke, when he thought of his + chief's face; while upstairs lay the body of the dead old woman, with the + servant asleep beside it. + </p> + <p> + But Madame Caravan grew thoughtful, as if she were preoccupied by + something which she did not care to mention, and at last she said: + </p> + <p> + “Your mother had given you her clock, had she not—the girl + playing at cup and ball?” + </p> + <p> + He thought for a moment, and then replied: + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes; she said to me (but it was a long time ago, when she + first came here): 'I shall leave the clock to you, if you look after me + well.'” + </p> + <p> + Madame Caravan was reassured, and regained her serenity, and said: + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, you must go and fetch it out of her room, for if we get + your sister here, she will prevent us from taking it.” + </p> + <p> + He hesitated. + </p> + <p> + “Do you think so?” + </p> + <p> + That made her angry. + </p> + <p> + “I certainly think so; once it is in our possession, she will know + nothing at all about where it came from; it belongs to us. It is just the + same with the chest of drawers with the marble top, that is in her room; + she gave it me one day when she was in a good temper. We will bring it + down at the same time.” + </p> + <p> + Caravan, however, seemed incredulous, and said: + </p> + <p> + “But, my dear, it is a great responsibility!” + </p> + <p> + She turned on him furiously. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! Indeed! Will you never change? You would let your children die + of hunger, rather than make a move. Does not that chest of drawers belong + to us, as she gave it to me? And if your sister is not satisfied, let her + tell me so, me! I don't care a straw for your sister. Come, get up, and we + will bring down what your mother gave us, immediately.” + </p> + <p> + Trembling and vanquished, he got out of bed and began to put on his + trousers, but she stopped him: + </p> + <p> + “It is not worth while to dress yourself; your underwear is quite + enough. I mean to go as I am.” + </p> + <p> + They both left the room in their night clothes, went upstairs quite + noiselessly, opened the door and went into the room, where the four + lighted tapers and the plate with the sprig of box alone seemed to be + watching the old woman in her rigid repose, for Rosalie, who was lying + back in the easy chair with her legs stretched out, her hands folded in + her lap, and her head on one side, was also quite motionless, and was + snoring with her mouth wide open. + </p> + <p> + Caravan took the clock, which was one of those grotesque objects that were + produced so plentifully under the Empire. A girl in gilt bronze was + holding a cup and ball, and the ball formed the pendulum. + </p> + <p> + “Give that to me,” his wife said, “and take the marble + slab off the chest of drawers.” + </p> + <p> + He put the marble slab on his shoulder with considerable effort, and they + left the room. Caravan had to stoop in the doorway, and trembled as he + went downstairs, while his wife walked backwards, so as to light him, and + held the candlestick in one hand, carrying the clock under the other arm. + </p> + <p> + When they were in their own room, she heaved a sigh. + </p> + <p> + “We have got over the worst part of the job,” she said; + “so now let us go and fetch the other things.” + </p> + <p> + But the bureau drawers were full of the old woman's wearing apparel, which + they must manage to hide somewhere, and Madame Caravan soon thought of a + plan. + </p> + <p> + “Go and get that wooden packing case in the vestibule; it is hardly + worth anything, and we may just as well put it here.” + </p> + <p> + And when he had brought it upstairs they began to fill it. One by one they + took out all the collars, cuffs, chemises, caps, all the well-worn things + that had belonged to the poor woman lying there behind them, and arranged + them methodically in the wooden box in such a manner as to deceive Madame + Braux, the deceased woman's other child, who would be coming the next day. + </p> + <p> + When they had finished, they first of all carried the bureau drawers + downstairs, and the remaining portion afterwards, each of them holding an + end, and it was some time before they could make up their minds where it + would stand best; but at last they decided upon their own room, opposite + the bed, between the two windows, and as soon as it was in its place + Madame Caravan filled it with her own things. The clock was placed on the + chimney-piece in the dining-room, and they looked to see what the effect + was, and were both delighted with it and agreed that nothing could be + better. Then they retired, she blew out the candle, and soon everybody in + the house was asleep. + </p> + <p> + It was broad daylight when. Caravan opened his eyes again. His mind was + rather confused when he woke up, and he did not clearly remember what had + happened for a few minutes; when he did, he felt a weight at his heart, + and jumped out of bed, almost ready to cry again. + </p> + <p> + He hastened to the room overhead, where Rosalie was still sleeping in the + same position as the night before, not having awakened once. He sent her + to do her work, put fresh tapers in the place of those that had burnt out, + and then he looked at his mother, revolving in his brain those apparently + profound thoughts, those religious and philosophical commonplaces which + trouble people of mediocre intelligence in the presence of death. + </p> + <p> + But, as his wife was calling him, he went downstairs. She had written out + a list of what had to be done during the morning, and he was horrified + when he saw the memorandum: + </p> + <p> + 1. Report the death at the mayor's office. 2. See the doctor who had + attended her. 3. Order the coffin. 4. Give notice at the church. 5. Go to + the undertaker. 6. Order the notices of her death at the printer's. 7. Go + to the lawyer. 8. Telegraph the news to all the family. + </p> + <p> + Besides all this, there were a number of small commissions; so he took his + hat and went out. As the news had spread abroad, Madame Caravan's female + friends and neighbors soon began to come in and begged to be allowed to + see the body. There had been a scene between husband and wife at the + hairdresser's on the ground floor about the matter, while a customer was + being shaved. The wife, who was knitting steadily, said: “Well, + there is one less, and as great a miser as one ever meets with. I + certainly did not care for her; but, nevertheless, I must go and have a + look at her.” + </p> + <p> + The husband, while lathering his patient's chin, said: “That is + another queer fancy! Nobody but a woman would think of such a thing. It is + not enough for them to worry you during life, but they cannot even leave + you at peace when you are dead:” But his wife, without being in the + least disconcerted, replied: “The feeling is stronger than I am, and + I must go. It has been on me since the morning. If I were not to see her, + I should think about it all my life; but when I have had a good look at + her, I shall be satisfied.” + </p> + <p> + The knight of the razor shrugged his shoulders and remarked in a low voice + to the gentleman whose cheek he was scraping: “I just ask you, what + sort of ideas do you think these confounded females have? I should not + amuse myself by going to see a corpse!” But his wife had heard him + and replied very quietly: “But it is so, it is so.” And then, + putting her knitting on the counter, she went upstairs to the first floor, + where she met two other neighbors, who had just come, and who were + discussing the event with Madame Caravan, who was giving them the details, + and they all went together to the death chamber. The four women went in + softly, and, one after the other, sprinkled the bed clothes with the salt + water, knelt down, made the sign of the cross while they mumbled a prayer. + Then they rose from their knees and looked for some time at the corpse + with round, wide-open eyes and mouths partly open, while the + daughter-in-law of the dead woman, with her handkerchief to her face, + pretended to be sobbing piteously. + </p> + <p> + When she turned about to walk away whom should she perceive standing close + to the door but Marie-Louise and Philippe-Auguste, who were curiously + taking stock of all that was going on. Then, forgetting her pretended + grief, she threw herself upon them with uplifted hands, crying out in a + furious voice, “Will you get out of this, you horrid brats!” + </p> + <p> + Ten minutes later, going upstairs again with another contingent of + neighbors, she prayed, wept profusely, performed all her duties, and found + once more her two children, who had followed her upstairs. She again boxed + their ears soundly, but the next time she paid no heed to them, and at + each fresh arrival of visitors the two urchins always followed in the + wake, kneeling down in a corner and imitating slavishly everything they + saw their mother do. + </p> + <p> + When the afternoon came the crowds of inquisitive people began to + diminish, and soon there were no more visitors. Madame Caravan, returning + to her own apartments, began to make the necessary preparations for the + funeral ceremony, and the deceased was left alone. + </p> + <p> + The window of the room was open. A torrid heat entered, along with clouds + of dust; the flames of the four candles were flickering beside the + immobile corpse, and upon the cloth which covered the face, the closed + eyes, the two stretched-out hands, small flies alighted, came, went and + careered up and down incessantly, being the only companions of the old + woman for the time being. + </p> + <p> + Marie-Louise and Philippe-Auguste, however, had now left the house and + were running up and down the street. They were soon surrounded by their + playmates, by little girls especially, who were older and who were much + more interested in all the mysteries of life, asking questions as if they + were grown people. + </p> + <p> + “Then your grandmother is dead?” “Yes, she died + yesterday evening.” “What does a dead person look like?” + </p> + <p> + Then Marie began to explain, telling all about the candles, the sprig of + box and the face of the corpse. It was not long before great curiosity was + aroused in the minds of all the children, and they asked to be allowed to + go upstairs to look at the departed. + </p> + <p> + Marie-Louise at once organized a first expedition, consisting of five + girls and two boys—the biggest and the most courageous. She made + them take off their shoes so that they might not be discovered. The troupe + filed into the house and mounted the stairs as stealthily as an army of + mice. + </p> + <p> + Once in the chamber, the little girl, imitating her mother, regulated the + ceremony. She solemnly walked in advance of her comrades, went down on her + knees, made the sign of the cross, moved her lips as in prayer, rose, + sprinkled the bed, and while the children, all crowded together, were + approaching—frightened and curious and eager to look at the face and + hands of the deceased—she began suddenly to simulate sobbing and to + bury her eyes in her little handkerchief. Then, becoming instantly + consoled, on thinking of the other children who were downstairs waiting at + the door, she ran downstairs followed by the rest, returning in a minute + with another group, then a third; for all the little ragamuffins of the + countryside, even to the little beggars in rags, had congregated in order + to participate in this new pleasure; and each time she repeated her + mother's grimaces with absolute perfection. + </p> + <p> + At length, however, she became tired. Some game or other drew the children + away from the house, and the old grandmother was left alone, forgotten + suddenly by everybody. + </p> + <p> + The room was growing dark, and upon the dry and rigid features of the + corpse the fitful flames of the candles cast patches of light. + </p> + <p> + Towards 8 o'clock Caravan ascended to the chamber of death, closed the + windows and renewed the candles. He was now quite composed on entering the + room, accustomed already to regard the corpse as though it had been there + for months. He even went the length of declaring that, as yet, there were + no signs of decomposition, making this remark just at the moment when he + and his wife were about to sit down at table. “Pshaw!” she + responded, “she is now stark and stiff; she will keep for a year.” + </p> + <p> + The soup was eaten in silence. The children, who had been left to + themselves all day, now worn out by fatigue, were sleeping soundly on + their chairs, and nobody ventured to break the silence. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly the flame of the lamp went down. Madame Caravan immediately + turned up the wick, a hollow sound ensued, and the light went out. They + had forgotten to buy oil. To send for it now to the grocer's would keep + back the dinner, and they began to look for candles, but none were to be + found except the tapers which had been placed upon the table upstairs in + the death chamber. + </p> + <p> + Madame Caravan, always prompt in her decisions, quickly despatched + Marie-Louise to fetch two, and her return was awaited in total darkness. + </p> + <p> + The footsteps of the girl who had ascended the stairs were distinctly + heard. There was silence for a few seconds and then the child descended + precipitately. She threw open the door and in a choking voice murmured: + “Oh! papa, grandmamma is dressing herself!” + </p> + <p> + Caravan bounded to his feet with such precipitance that his chair fell + over against the wall. He stammered out: “You say? . . . . What are + you saying?” + </p> + <p> + But Marie-Louise, gasping with emotion, repeated: “Grand—grand + —grandmamma is putting on her clothes, she is coming downstairs.” + </p> + <p> + Caravan rushed boldly up the staircase, followed by his wife, dumfounded; + but he came to a standstill before the door of the second floor, overcome + with terror, not daring to enter. What was he going to see? Madame + Caravan, more courageous, turned the handle of the door and stepped + forward into the room. + </p> + <p> + The old woman was standing up. In awakening from her lethargic sleep, + before even regaining full consciousness, in turning upon her side and + raising herself on her elbow, she had extinguished three of the candles + which burned near the bed. Then, gaining strength, she got off the bed and + began to look for her clothes. The absence of her chest of drawers had at + first worried her, but, after a little, she had succeeded in finding her + things at the bottom of the wooden box, and was now quietly dressing. She + emptied the plateful of water, replaced the sprig of box behind the + looking-glass, and arranged the chairs in their places, and was ready to + go downstairs when there appeared before her her son and daughter-in-law. + </p> + <p> + Caravan rushed forward, seized her by the hands, embraced her with tears + in his eyes, while his wife, who was behind him, repeated in a + hypocritical tone of voice: “Oh, what a blessing! oh, what a + blessing!” + </p> + <p> + But the old woman, without being at all moved, without even appearing to + understand, rigid as a statue, and with glazed eyes, simply asked: “Will + dinner soon be ready?” + </p> + <p> + He stammered out, not knowing what he said: + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, mother, we have been waiting for you.” + </p> + <p> + And with an alacrity unusual in him, he took her arm, while Madame + Caravan, the younger, seized the candle and lighted them downstairs, + walking backwards in front of them, step by step, just as she had done the + previous night for her husband, who was carrying the marble. + </p> + <p> + On reaching the first floor, she almost ran against people who were + ascending the stairs. It was the Charenton family, Madame Braux, followed + by her husband. + </p> + <p> + The wife, tall and stout, with a prominent stomach, opened wide her + terrified eyes and was ready to make her escape. The husband, a socialist + shoemaker, a little hairy man, the perfect image of a monkey, murmured + quite unconcerned: “Well, what next? Is she resurrected?” + </p> + <p> + As soon as Madame Caravan recognized them, she made frantic gestures to + them; then, speaking aloud, she said: “Why, here you are! What a + pleasant surprise!” + </p> + <p> + But Madame Braux, dumfounded, understood nothing. She responded in a low + voice: “It was your telegram that brought us; we thought that all + was over.” + </p> + <p> + Her husband, who was behind her, pinched her to make her keep silent. He + added with a sly laugh, which his thick beard concealed: “It was + very kind of you to invite us here. We set out post haste,” which + remark showed the hostility which had for a long time reigned between the + households. Then, just as the old woman reached the last steps, he pushed + forward quickly and rubbed his hairy face against her cheeks, shouting in + her ear, on account of her deafness: “How well you look, mother; + sturdy as usual, hey!” + </p> + <p> + Madame Braux, in her stupefaction at seeing the old woman alive, whom they + all believed to be dead, dared not even embrace her; and her enormous bulk + blocked up the passageway and hindered the others from advancing. The old + woman, uneasy and suspicious, but without speaking, looked at everyone + around her; and her little gray eyes, piercing and hard, fixed themselves + now on one and now on the other, and they were so full of meaning that the + children became frightened. + </p> + <p> + Caravan, to explain matters, said: “She has been somewhat ill, but + she is better now; quite well, indeed, are you not, mother?” + </p> + <p> + Then the good woman, continuing to walk, replied in a husky voice, as + though it came from a distance: “It was syncope. I heard you all the + while.” + </p> + <p> + An embarrassing silence followed. They entered the dining-room, and in a + few minutes all sat down to an improvised dinner. + </p> + <p> + Only M. Braux had retained his self-possession. His gorilla features + grinned wickedly, while he let fall some words of double meaning which + painfully disconcerted everyone. + </p> + <p> + But the door bell kept ringing every second, and Rosalie, distracted, came + to call Caravan, who rushed out, throwing down his napkin. His + brother-in-law even asked him whether it was not one of his reception + days, to which he stammered out in answer: “No, only a few packages; + nothing more.” + </p> + <p> + A parcel was brought in, which he began to open carelessly, and the + mourning announcements with black borders appeared unexpectedly. Reddening + up to the very eyes, he closed the package hurriedly and pushed it under + his waistcoat. + </p> + <p> + His mother had not seen it! She was looking intently at her clock which + stood on the mantelpiece, and the embarrassment increased in midst of a + dead silence. Turning her wrinkled face towards her daughter, the old + woman, in whose eyes gleamed malice, said: “On Monday you must take + me away from here, so that I can see your little girl. I want so much to + see her.” Madame Braux, her features all beaming, exclaimed: “Yes, + mother, that I will,” while Madame Caravan, the younger, who had + turned pale, was ready to faint with annoyance. The two men, however, + gradually drifted into conversation and soon became embroiled in a + political discussion. Braux maintained the most revolutionary and + communistic doctrines, his eyes glowing, and gesticulating and throwing + about his arms. “Property, sir,” he said, “is a robbery + perpetrated on the working classes; the land is the common property of + every man; hereditary rights are an infamy and a disgrace.” But here + he suddenly stopped, looking as if he had just said something foolish, + then added in softer tones: “But this is not the proper moment to + discuss such things.” + </p> + <p> + The door was opened and Dr. Chenet appeared. For a moment he seemed + bewildered, but regaining his usual smirking expression of countenance, he + jauntily approached the old woman and said: “Aha! mamma; you are + better to-day. Oh! I never had any doubt but you would come round again; + in fact, I said to myself as I was mounting the staircase, 'I have an idea + that I shall find the old lady on her feet once more';” and as he + patted her gently on the back: “Ah! she is as solid as the + Pont-Neuf, she will bury us all; see if she does not.” + </p> + <p> + He sat down, accepted the coffee that was offered him, and soon began to + join in the conversation of the two men, backing up Braux, for he himself + had been mixed up in the Commune. + </p> + <p> + The old woman, now feeling herself fatigued, wished to retire. Caravan + rushed forward. She looked him steadily in the eye and said: “You, + you must carry my clock and chest of drawers upstairs again without a + moment's delay.” “Yes, mamma,” he replied, gasping; + “yes, I will do so.” The old woman then took the arm of her + daughter and withdrew from the room. The two Caravans remained astounded, + silent, plunged in the deepest despair, while Braux rubbed his hands and + sipped his coffee gleefully. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly Madame Caravan, consumed with rage, rushed at him, exclaiming: + “You are a thief, a footpad, a cur! I would spit in your face! I—I + —would——” She could find nothing further to say, + suffocating as she was with rage, while he went on sipping his coffee with + a smile. + </p> + <p> + His wife returning just then, Madame Caravan attacked her sister-in-law, + and the two women—the one with her enormous bulk, the other + epileptic and spare, with changed voices and trembling hands flew at one + another with words of abuse. + </p> + <p> + Chenet and Braux now interposed, and the latter, taking his better half by + the shoulders, pushed her out of the door before him, shouting: “Go + on, you slut; you talk too much”; and the two were heard in the + street quarrelling until they disappeared from sight. + </p> + <p> + M. Chenet also took his departure, leaving the Caravans alone, face to + face. The husband fell back on his chair, and with the cold sweat standing + out in beads on his temples, murmured: “What shall I say to my chief + to-morrow?” + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0027"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + BESIDE SCHOPENHAUER'S CORPSE + </h2> + <p> + He was slowly dying, as consumptives die. I saw him each day, about two + o'clock, sitting beneath the hotel windows on a bench in the promenade, + looking out on the calm sea. He remained for some time without moving, in + the heat of the sun, gazing mournfully at the Mediterranean. Every now and + then, he cast a glance at the lofty mountains with beclouded summits that + shut in Mentone; then, with a very slow movement, he would cross his long + legs, so thin that they seemed like two bones, around which fluttered the + cloth of his trousers, and he would open a book, always the same book. And + then he did not stir any more, but read on, read on with his eye and his + mind; all his wasting body seemed to read, all his soul plunged, lost, + disappeared, in this book, up to the hour when the cool air made him cough + a little. Then, he got up and reentered the hotel. + </p> + <p> + He was a tall German, with fair beard, who breakfasted and dined in his + own room, and spoke to nobody. + </p> + <p> + A vague, curiosity attracted me to him. One day, I sat down by his side, + having taken up a book, too, to keep up appearances, a volume of Musset's + poems. + </p> + <p> + And I began to look through “Rolla.” + </p> + <p> + Suddenly, my neighbor said to me, in good French: + </p> + <p> + “Do you know German, monsieur?” + </p> + <p> + “Not at all, monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + “I am sorry for that. Since chance has thrown us side by side, I + could have lent you, I could have shown you, an inestimable thing—this + book which I hold in my hand.” + </p> + <p> + “What is it, pray?” + </p> + <p> + “It is a copy of my master, Schopenhauer, annotated with his own + hand. All the margins, as you may see, are covered with his handwriting.” + </p> + <p> + I took the book from him reverently, and I gazed at these forms + incomprehensible to me, but which revealed the immortal thoughts of the + greatest shatterer of dreams who had ever dwelt on earth. + </p> + <p> + And Musset's verses arose in my memory: + </p> +<div class='pre'> + “Hast thou found out, Voltaire, that it is bliss to die, + And does thy hideous smile over thy bleached bones fly?” + </div> + <p> + And involuntarily I compared the childish sarcasm, the religious sarcasm + of Voltaire with the irresistible irony of the German philosopher whose + influence is henceforth ineffaceable. + </p> + <p> + Let us protest and let us be angry, let us be indignant, or let us be + enthusiastic, Schopenhauer has marked humanity with the seal of his + disdain and of his disenchantment. + </p> + <p> + A disabused pleasure-seeker, he overthrew beliefs, hopes, poetic ideals + and chimeras, destroyed the aspirations, ravaged the confidence of souls, + killed love, dragged down the chivalrous worship of women, crushed the + illusions of hearts, and accomplished the most gigantic task ever + attempted by scepticism. He spared nothing with his mocking spirit, and + exhausted everything. And even to-day those who execrate him seem to carry + in their own souls particles of his thought. + </p> + <p> + “So, then, you were intimately acquainted with Schopenhauer?” + I said to the German. + </p> + <p> + He smiled sadly. + </p> + <p> + “Up to the time of his death, monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + And he spoke to me about the philosopher and told me about the almost + supernatural impression which this strange being made on all who came near + him. + </p> + <p> + He gave me an account of the interview of the old iconoclast with a French + politician, a doctrinaire Republican, who wanted to get a glimpse of this + man, and found him in a noisy tavern, seated in the midst of his + disciples, dry, wrinkled, laughing with an unforgettable laugh, attacking + and tearing to pieces ideas and beliefs with a single word, as a dog tears + with one bite of his teeth the tissues with which he plays. + </p> + <p> + He repeated for me the comment of this Frenchman as he went away, + astonished and terrified: “I thought I had spent an hour with the + devil.” + </p> + <p> + Then he added: + </p> + <p> + “He had, indeed, monsieur, a frightful smile, which terrified us + even after his death. I can tell you an anecdote about it that is not + generally known, if it would interest you.” + </p> + <p> + And he began, in a languid voice, interrupted by frequent fits of + coughing. + </p> + <p> + “Schopenhauer had just died, and it was arranged that we should + watch, in turn, two by two, till morning. + </p> + <p> + “He was lying in a large apartment, very simple, vast and gloomy. + Two wax candles were burning on the stand by the bedside. + </p> + <p> + “It was midnight when I went on watch, together with one of our + comrades. The two friends whom we replaced had left the apartment, and we + came and sat down at the foot of the bed. + </p> + <p> + “The face was not changed. It was laughing. That pucker which we + knew so well lingered still around the corners of the lips, and it seemed + to us that he was about to open his eyes, to move and to speak. His + thought, or rather his thoughts, enveloped us. We felt ourselves more than + ever in the atmosphere of his genius, absorbed, possessed by him. His + domination seemed to be even more sovereign now that he was dead. A + feeling of mystery was blended with the power of this incomparable spirit. + </p> + <p> + “The bodies of these men disappear, but they themselves remain; and + in the night which follows the cessation of their heart's pulsation I + assure you, monsieur, they are terrifying. + </p> + <p> + “And in hushed tones we talked about him, recalling to mind certain + sayings, certain formulas of his, those startling maxims which are like + jets of flame flung, in a few words, into the darkness of the Unknown + Life. + </p> + <p> + “'It seems to me that he is going to speak,' said my comrade. And we + stared with uneasiness bordering on fear at the motionless face, with its + eternal laugh. Gradually, we began to feel ill at ease, oppressed, on the + point of fainting. I faltered: + </p> + <p> + “'I don't know what is the matter with me, but, I assure you I am + not well.' + </p> + <p> + “And at that moment we noticed that there was an unpleasant odor + from the corpse. + </p> + <p> + “Then, my comrade suggested that we should go into the adjoining + room, and leave the door open; and I assented to his proposal. + </p> + <p> + “I took one of the wax candles which burned on the stand, and I left + the second behind. Then we went and sat down at the other end of the + adjoining apartment, in such a position that we could see the bed and the + corpse, clearly revealed by the light. + </p> + <p> + “But he still held possession of us. One would have said that his + immaterial essence, liberated, free, all-powerful and dominating, was + flitting around us. And sometimes, too, the dreadful odor of the + decomposed body came toward us and penetrated us, sickening and + indefinable. + </p> + <p> + “Suddenly a shiver passed through our bones: a sound, a slight + sound, came from the death-chamber. Immediately we fixed our glances on + him, and we saw, yes, monsieur, we saw distinctly, both of us, something + white pass across the bed, fall on the carpet, and vanish under an + armchair. + </p> + <p> + “We were on our feet before we had time to think of anything, + distracted by stupefying terror, ready to run away. Then we stared at each + other. We were horribly pale. Our hearts throbbed fiercely enough to have + raised the clothing on our chests. I was the first to speak: + </p> + <p> + “'Did you see?' + </p> + <p> + “'Yes, I saw.' + </p> + <p> + “'Can it be that he is not dead?' + </p> + <p> + “'Why, when the body is putrefying?' + </p> + <p> + “'What are we to do?' + </p> + <p> + “My companion said in a hesitating tone: + </p> + <p> + “'We must go and look.' + </p> + <p> + “I took our wax candle and entered first, glancing into all the dark + corners in the large apartment. Nothing was moving now, and I approached + the bed. But I stood transfixed with stupor and fright: + </p> + <p> + “Schopenhauer was no longer laughing! He was grinning in a horrible + fashion, with his lips pressed together and deep hollows in his cheeks. I + stammered out: + </p> + <p> + “'He is not dead!' + </p> + <p> + “But the terrible odor ascended to my nose and stifled me. And I no + longer moved, but kept staring fixedly at him, terrified as if in the + presence of an apparition. + </p> + <p> + “Then my companion, having seized the other wax candle, bent + forward. Next, he touched my arm without uttering a word. I followed his + glance, and saw on the ground, under the armchair by the side of the bed, + standing out white on the dark carpet, and open as if to bite, + Schopenhauer's set of artificial teeth. + </p> + <p> + “The work of decomposition, loosening the jaws, had made it jump out + of the mouth. + </p> + <p> + “I was really frightened that day, monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + And as the sun was sinking toward the glittering sea, the consumptive + German rose from his seat, gave me a parting bow, and retired into the + hotel. + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0028"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + ORIGINAL SHORT STORIES, Vol. 3. + </h2> +<div class='pre'> + GUY DE MAUPASSANT + ORIGINAL SHORT STORIES + Translated by + ALBERT M. C. McMASTER, B.A. + A. E. HENDERSON, B.A. + MME. QUESADA and Others +</div> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0029"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + VOLUME III. + </h2> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0030"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + MISS HARRIET + </h2> + <p> + There were seven of us on a drag, four women and three men; one of the + latter sat on the box seat beside the coachman. We were ascending, at a + snail's pace, the winding road up the steep cliff along the coast. + </p> + <p> + Setting out from Etretat at break of day in order to visit the ruins of + Tancarville, we were still half asleep, benumbed by the fresh air of the + morning. The women especially, who were little accustomed to these early + excursions, half opened and closed their eyes every moment, nodding their + heads or yawning, quite insensible to the beauties of the dawn. + </p> + <p> + It was autumn. On both sides of the road stretched the bare fields, + yellowed by the stubble of wheat and oats which covered the soil like a + beard that had been badly shaved. The moist earth seemed to steam. Larks + were singing high up in the air, while other birds piped in the bushes. + </p> + <p> + The sun rose at length in front of us, bright red on the plane of the + horizon, and in proportion as it ascended, growing clearer from minute to + minute, the country seemed to awake, to smile, to shake itself like a + young girl leaving her bed in her white robe of vapor. The Comte + d'Etraille, who was seated on the box, cried: + </p> + <p> + “Look! look! a hare!” and he extended his arm toward the left, + pointing to a patch of clover. The animal scurried along, almost hidden by + the clover, only its large ears showing. Then it swerved across a furrow, + stopped, started off again at full speed, changed its course, stopped + anew, uneasy, spying out every danger, uncertain what route to take, when + suddenly it began to run with great bounds, disappearing finally in a + large patch of beet-root. All the men had waked up to watch the course of + the animal. + </p> + <p> + Rene Lamanoir exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “We are not at all gallant this morning,” and; regarding his + neighbor, the little Baroness de Serennes, who struggled against sleep, he + said to her in a low tone: “You are thinking of your husband, + baroness. Reassure yourself; he will not return before Saturday, so you + have still four days.” + </p> + <p> + She answered with a sleepy smile: + </p> + <p> + “How stupid you are!” Then, shaking off her torpor, she added: + “Now, let somebody say something to make us laugh. You, Monsieur + Chenal, who have the reputation of having had more love affairs than the + Duc de Richelieu, tell us a love story in which you have played a part; + anything you like.” + </p> + <p> + Leon Chenal, an old painter, who had once been very handsome, very strong, + very proud of his physique and very popular with women, took his long + white beard in his hand and smiled. Then, after a few moments' reflection, + he suddenly became serious. + </p> + <p> + “Ladies, it will not be an amusing tale, for I am going to relate to + you the saddest love affair of my life, and I sincerely hope that none of + my friends may ever pass through a similar experience. + </p> + <p> + “I was twenty-five years of age and was pillaging along the coast of + Normandy. I call 'pillaging' wandering about, with a knapsack on one's + back, from inn to inn, under the pretext of making studies and sketching + landscapes. I knew nothing more enjoyable than that happy-go-lucky + wandering life, in which one is perfectly free, without shackles of any + kind, without care, without preoccupation, without thinking even of the + morrow. One goes in any direction one pleases, without any guide save his + fancy, without any counsellor save his eyes. One stops because a running + brook attracts one, because the smell of potatoes frying tickles one's + olfactories on passing an inn. Sometimes it is the perfume of clematis + which decides one in his choice or the roguish glance of the servant at an + inn. Do not despise me for my affection for these rustics. These girls + have a soul as well as senses, not to mention firm cheeks and fresh lips; + while their hearty and willing kisses have the flavor of wild fruit. Love + is always love, come whence it may. A heart that beats at your approach, + an eye that weeps when you go away are things so rare, so sweet, so + precious that they must never be despised. + </p> + <p> + “I have had rendezvous in ditches full of primroses, behind the cow + stable and in barns among the straw, still warm from the heat of the day. + I have recollections of coarse gray cloth covering supple peasant skin and + regrets for simple, frank kisses, more delicate in their unaffected + sincerity than the subtle favors of charming and distinguished women. + </p> + <p> + “But what one loves most amid all these varied adventures is the + country, the woods, the rising of the sun, the twilight, the moonlight. + These are, for the painter, honeymoon trips with Nature. One is alone with + her in that long and quiet association. You go to sleep in the fields, + amid marguerites and poppies, and when you open your eyes in the full + glare of the sunlight you descry in the distance the little village with + its pointed clock tower which sounds the hour of noon. + </p> + <p> + “You sit down by the side of a spring which gushes out at the foot + of an oak, amid a growth of tall, slender weeds, glistening with life. You + go down on your knees, bend forward and drink that cold, pellucid water + which wets your mustache and nose; you drink it with a physical pleasure, + as though you kissed the spring, lip to lip. Sometimes, when you find a + deep hole along the course of these tiny brooks, you plunge in quite + naked, and you feel on your skin, from head to foot, as it were, an icy + and delicious caress, the light and gentle quivering of the stream. + </p> + <p> + “You are gay on the hills, melancholy on the edge of ponds, inspired + when the sun is setting in an ocean of blood-red clouds and casts red + reflections or the river. And at night, under the moon, which passes + across the vault of heaven, you think of a thousand strange things which + would never have occurred to your mind under the brilliant light of day. + </p> + <p> + “So, in wandering through the same country where we, are this year, + I came to the little village of Benouville, on the cliff between Yport and + Etretat. I came from Fecamp, following the coast, a high coast as straight + as a wall, with its projecting chalk cliffs descending perpendicularly + into the sea. I had walked since early morning on the short grass, smooth + and yielding as a carpet, that grows on the edge of the cliff. And, + singing lustily, I walked with long strides, looking sometimes at the slow + circling flight of a gull with its white curved wings outlined on the blue + sky, sometimes at the brown sails of a fishing bark on the green sea. In + short, I had passed a happy day, a day of liberty and of freedom from + care. + </p> + <p> + “A little farmhouse where travellers were lodged was pointed out to + me, a kind of inn, kept by a peasant woman, which stood in the centre of a + Norman courtyard surrounded by a double row of beeches. + </p> + <p> + “Leaving the coast, I reached the hamlet, which was hemmed in by + great trees, and I presented myself at the house of Mother Lecacheur. + </p> + <p> + “She was an old, wrinkled and stern peasant woman, who seemed always + to receive customers under protest, with a kind of defiance. + </p> + <p> + “It was the month of May. The spreading apple trees covered the + court with a shower of blossoms which rained unceasingly both upon people + and upon the grass. + </p> + <p> + “I said: 'Well, Madame Lecacheur, have you a room for me?' + </p> + <p> + “Astonished to find that I knew her name, she answered: + </p> + <p> + “'That depends; everything is let, but all the same I can find out.” + </p> + <p> + “In five minutes we had come to an agreement, and I deposited my bag + upon the earthen floor of a rustic room, furnished with a bed, two chairs, + a table and a washbowl. The room looked into the large, smoky kitchen, + where the lodgers took their meals with the people of the farm and the + landlady, who was a widow. + </p> + <p> + “I washed my hands, after which I went out. The old woman was making + a chicken fricassee for dinner in the large fireplace in which hung the + iron pot, black with smoke. + </p> + <p> + “'You have travellers, then, at the present time?' said I to her. + </p> + <p> + “She answered in an offended tone of voice: + </p> + <p> + “'I have a lady, an English lady, who has reached years of maturity. + She occupies the other room.' + </p> + <p> + “I obtained, by means of an extra five sous a day, the privilege of + dining alone out in the yard when the weather was fine. + </p> + <p> + “My place was set outside the door, and I was beginning to gnaw the + lean limbs of the Normandy chicken, to drink the clear cider and to munch + the hunk of white bread, which was four days old but excellent. + </p> + <p> + “Suddenly the wooden gate which gave on the highway was opened, and + a strange lady directed her steps toward the house. She was very thin, + very tall, so tightly enveloped in a red Scotch plaid shawl that one might + have supposed she had no arms, if one had not seen a long hand appear just + above the hips, holding a white tourist umbrella. Her face was like that + of a mummy, surrounded with curls of gray hair, which tossed about at + every step she took and made me think, I know not why, of a pickled + herring in curl papers. Lowering her eyes, she passed quickly in front of + me and entered the house. + </p> + <p> + “That singular apparition cheered me. She undoubtedly was my + neighbor, the English lady of mature age of whom our hostess had spoken. + </p> + <p> + “I did not see her again that day. The next day, when I had settled + myself to commence painting at the end of that beautiful valley which you + know and which extends as far as Etretat, I perceived, on lifting my eyes + suddenly, something singular standing on the crest of the cliff, one might + have said a pole decked out with flags. It was she. On seeing me, she + suddenly disappeared. I reentered the house at midday for lunch and took + my seat at the general table, so as to make the acquaintance of this odd + character. But she did not respond to my polite advances, was insensible + even to my little attentions. I poured out water for her persistently, I + passed her the dishes with great eagerness. A slight, almost + imperceptible, movement of the head and an English word, murmured so low + that I did not understand it, were her only acknowledgments. + </p> + <p> + “I ceased occupying myself with her, although she had disturbed my + thoughts. + </p> + <p> + “At the end of three days I knew as much about her as did Madame + Lecacheur herself. + </p> + <p> + “She was called Miss Harriet. Seeking out a secluded village in + which to pass the summer, she had been attracted to Benouville some six + months before and did not seem disposed to leave it. She never spoke at + table, ate rapidly, reading all the while a small book of the Protestant + propaganda. She gave a copy of it to everybody. The cure himself had + received no less than four copies, conveyed by an urchin to whom she had + paid two sous commission. She said sometimes to our hostess abruptly, + without preparing her in the least for the declaration: + </p> + <p> + “'I love the Saviour more than all. I admire him in all creation; I + adore him in all nature; I carry him always in my heart.' + </p> + <p> + “And she would immediately present the old woman with one of her + tracts which were destined to convert the universe. + </p> + <p> + “In, the village she was not liked. In fact, the schoolmaster having + pronounced her an atheist, a kind of stigma attached to her. The cure, who + had been consulted by Madame Lecacheur, responded: + </p> + <p> + “'She is a heretic, but God does not wish the death of the sinner, + and I believe her to be a person of pure morals.' + </p> + <p> + “These words, 'atheist,' 'heretic,' words which no one can precisely + define, threw doubts into some minds. It was asserted, however, that this + English woman was rich and that she had passed her life in travelling + through every country in the world because her family had cast her off. + Why had her family cast her off? Because of her impiety, of course! + </p> + <p> + “She was, in fact, one of those people of exalted principles; one of + those opinionated puritans, of which England produces so many; one of + those good and insupportable old maids who haunt the tables d'hote of + every hotel in Europe, who spoil Italy, poison Switzerland, render the + charming cities of the Mediterranean uninhabitable, carry everywhere their + fantastic manias their manners of petrified vestals, their indescribable + toilets and a certain odor of india-rubber which makes one believe that at + night they are slipped into a rubber casing. + </p> + <p> + “Whenever I caught sight of one of these individuals in a hotel I + fled like the birds who see a scarecrow in a field. + </p> + <p> + “This woman, however, appeared so very singular that she did not + displease me. + </p> + <p> + “Madame Lecacheur, hostile by instinct to everything that was not + rustic, felt in her narrow soul a kind of hatred for the ecstatic + declarations of the old maid. She had found a phrase by which to describe + her, a term of contempt that rose to her lips, called forth by I know not + what confused and mysterious mental ratiocination. She said: 'That woman + is a demoniac.' This epithet, applied to that austere and sentimental + creature, seemed to me irresistibly droll. I myself never called her + anything now but 'the demoniac,' experiencing a singular pleasure in + pronouncing aloud this word on perceiving her. + </p> + <p> + “One day I asked Mother Lecacheur: 'Well, what is our demoniac about + to-day?' + </p> + <p> + “To which my rustic friend replied with a shocked air: + </p> + <p> + “'What do you think, sir? She picked up a toad which had had its paw + crushed and carried it to her room and has put it in her washbasin and + bandaged it as if it were a man. If that is not profanation I should like + to know what is!' + </p> + <p> + “On another occasion, when walking along the shore she bought a + large fish which had just been caught, simply to throw it back into the + sea again. The sailor from whom she had bought it, although she paid him + handsomely, now began to swear, more exasperated, indeed, than if she had + put her hand into his pocket and taken his money. For more than a month he + could not speak of the circumstance without becoming furious and + denouncing it as an outrage. Oh, yes! She was indeed a demoniac, this Miss + Harriet, and Mother Lecacheur must have had an inspiration in thus + christening her. + </p> + <p> + “The stable boy, who was called Sapeur, because he had served in + Africa in his youth, entertained other opinions. He said with a roguish + air: 'She is an old hag who has seen life.' + </p> + <p> + “If the poor woman had but known! + </p> + <p> + “The little kind-hearted Celeste did not wait upon her willingly, + but I was never able to understand why. Probably her only reason was that + she was a stranger, of another race; of a different tongue and of another + religion. She was, in fact, a demoniac! + </p> + <p> + “She passed her time wandering about the country, adoring and + seeking God in nature. I found her one evening on her knees in a cluster + of bushes. Having discovered something red through the leaves, I brushed + aside the branches, and Miss Harriet at once rose to her feet, confused at + having been found thus, fixing on me terrified eyes like those of an owl + surprised in open day. + </p> + <p> + “Sometimes, when I was working among the rocks, I would suddenly + descry her on the edge of the cliff like a lighthouse signal. She would be + gazing in rapture at the vast sea glittering in the sunlight and the + boundless sky with its golden tints. Sometimes I would distinguish her at + the end of the valley, walking quickly with her elastic English step, and + I would go toward her, attracted by I know not what, simply to see her + illuminated visage, her dried-up, ineffable features, which seemed to glow + with inward and profound happiness. + </p> + <p> + “I would often encounter her also in the corner of a field, sitting + on the grass under the shadow of an apple tree, with her little religious + booklet lying open on her knee while she gazed out at the distance. + </p> + <p> + “I could not tear myself away from that quiet country neighborhood, + to which I was attached by a thousand links of love for its wide and + peaceful landscape. I was happy in this sequestered farm, far removed from + everything, but in touch with the earth, the good, beautiful, green earth. + And—must I avow it?—there was, besides, a little curiosity + which retained me at the residence of Mother Lecacheur. I wished to become + acquainted a little with this strange Miss Harriet and to know what + transpires in the solitary souls of those wandering old English women. + </p> + <p> + “We became acquainted in a rather singular manner. I had just + finished a study which appeared to me to be worth something, and so it + was, as it sold for ten thousand francs fifteen years later. It was as + simple, however, as two and two make four and was not according to + academic rules. The whole right side of my canvas represented a rock, an + enormous rock, covered with sea-wrack, brown, yellow and red, across which + the sun poured like a stream of oil. The light fell upon the rock as + though it were aflame without the sun, which was at my back, being + visible. That was all. A first bewildering study of blazing, gorgeous + light. + </p> + <p> + “On the left was the sea, not the blue sea, the slate-colored sea, + but a sea of jade, greenish, milky and solid beneath the deep-colored sky. + </p> + <p> + “I was so pleased with my work that I danced from sheer delight as I + carried it back to the inn. I would have liked the whole world to see it + at once. I can remember that I showed it to a cow that was browsing by the + wayside, exclaiming as I did so: 'Look at that, my old beauty; you will + not often see its like again.' + </p> + <p> + “When I had reached the house I immediately called out to Mother + Lecacheur, shouting with all my might: + </p> + <p> + “'Hullo, there! Mrs. Landlady, come here and look at this.' + </p> + <p> + “The rustic approached and looked at my work with her stupid eyes + which distinguished nothing and could not even tell whether the picture + represented an ox or a house. + </p> + <p> + “Miss Harriet just then came home, and she passed behind me just as + I was holding out my canvas at arm's length, exhibiting it to our + landlady. The demoniac could not help but see it, for I took care to + exhibit the thing in such a way that it could not escape her notice. She + stopped abruptly and stood motionless, astonished. It was her rock which + was depicted, the one which she climbed to dream away her time + undisturbed. + </p> + <p> + “She uttered a British 'Aoh,' which was at once so accentuated and + so flattering that I turned round to her, smiling, and said: + </p> + <p> + “'This is my latest study, mademoiselle.' + </p> + <p> + “She murmured rapturously, comically and tenderly: + </p> + <p> + “'Oh! monsieur, you understand nature as a living thing.' + </p> + <p> + “I colored and was more touched by that compliment than if it had + come from a queen. I was captured, conquered, vanquished. I could have + embraced her, upon my honor. + </p> + <p> + “I took my seat at table beside her as usual. For the first time she + spoke, thinking aloud: + </p> + <p> + “'Oh! I do love nature.' + </p> + <p> + “I passed her some bread, some water, some wine. She now accepted + these with a little smile of a mummy. I then began to talk about the + scenery. + </p> + <p> + “After the meal we rose from the table together and walked leisurely + across the courtyard; then, attracted doubtless by the fiery glow which + the setting sun cast over the surface of the sea, I opened the gate which + led to the cliff, and we walked along side by side, as contented as two + persons might be who have just learned to understand and penetrate each + other's motives and feelings. + </p> + <p> + “It was one of those warm, soft evenings which impart a sense of + ease to flesh and spirit alike. All is enjoyment, everything charms. The + balmy air, laden with the perfume of grasses and the smell of seaweed, + soothes the olfactory sense with its wild fragrance, soothes the palate + with its sea savor, soothes the mind with its pervading sweetness. + </p> + <p> + “We were now walking along the edge of the cliff, high above the + boundless sea which rolled its little waves below us at a distance of a + hundred metres. And we drank in with open mouth and expanded chest that + fresh breeze, briny from kissing the waves, that came from the ocean and + passed across our faces. + </p> + <p> + “Wrapped in her plaid shawl, with a look of inspiration as she faced + the breeze, the English woman gazed fixedly at the great sun ball as it + descended toward the horizon. Far off in the distance a three-master in + full sail was outlined on the blood-red sky and a steamship, somewhat + nearer, passed along, leaving behind it a trail of smoke on the horizon. + The red sun globe sank slowly lower and lower and presently touched the + water just behind the motionless vessel, which, in its dazzling + effulgence, looked as though framed in a flame of fire. We saw it plunge, + grow smaller and disappear, swallowed up by the ocean. + </p> + <p> + “Miss Harriet gazed in rapture at the last gleams of the dying day. + She seemed longing to embrace the sky, the sea, the whole landscape. + </p> + <p> + “She murmured: 'Aoh! I love—I love' I saw a tear in her eye. + She continued: 'I wish I were a little bird, so that I could mount up into + the firmament.' + </p> + <p> + “She remained standing as I had often before seen her, perched on + the cliff, her face as red as her shawl. I should have liked to have + sketched her in my album. It would have been a caricature of ecstasy. + </p> + <p> + “I turned away so as not to laugh. + </p> + <p> + “I then spoke to her of painting as I would have done to a fellow + artist, using the technical terms common among the devotees of the + profession. She listened attentively, eagerly seeking to divine the + meaning of the terms, so as to understand my thoughts. From time to time + she would exclaim: + </p> + <p> + “'Oh! I understand, I understand. It is very interesting.' + </p> + <p> + “We returned home. + </p> + <p> + “The next day, on seeing me, she approached me, cordially holding + out her hand; and we at once became firm friends. + </p> + <p> + “She was a good creature who had a kind of soul on springs, which + became enthusiastic at a bound. She lacked equilibrium like all women who + are spinsters at the age of fifty. She seemed to be preserved in a pickle + of innocence, but her heart still retained something very youthful and + inflammable. She loved both nature and animals with a fervor, a love like + old wine fermented through age, with a sensuous love that she had never + bestowed on men. + </p> + <p> + “One thing is certain, that the sight of a bitch nursing her + puppies, a mare roaming in a meadow with a foal at its side, a bird's nest + full of young ones, screaming, with their open mouths and their enormous + heads, affected her perceptibly. + </p> + <p> + “Poor, solitary, sad, wandering beings! I love you ever since I + became acquainted with Miss Harriet. + </p> + <p> + “I soon discovered that she had something she would like to tell me, + but dare not, and I was amused at her timidity. When I started out in the + morning with my knapsack on my back, she would accompany me in silence as + far as the end of the village, evidently struggling to find words with + which to begin a conversation. Then she would leave me abruptly and walk + away quickly with her springy step. + </p> + <p> + “One day, however, she plucked up courage: + </p> + <p> + “I would like to see how you paint pictures. Are you willing? I have + been very curious.' + </p> + <p> + “And she blushed as if she had said something very audacious. + </p> + <p> + “I conducted her to the bottom of the Petit-Val, where I had begun a + large picture. + </p> + <p> + “She remained standing behind me, following all my gestures with + concentrated attention. Then, suddenly, fearing perhaps that she was + disturbing me, she said: 'Thank you,' and walked away. + </p> + <p> + “But she soon became more friendly, and accompanied me every day, + her countenance exhibiting visible pleasure. She carried her camp stool + under her arm, not permitting me to carry it. She would remain there for + hours, silent and motionless, following with her eyes the point of my + brush, in its every movement. When I obtained unexpectedly just the effect + I wanted by a dash of color put on with the palette knife, she + involuntarily uttered a little 'Ah!' of astonishment, of joy, of + admiration. She had the most tender respect for my canvases, an almost + religious respect for that human reproduction of a part of nature's work + divine. My studies appeared to her a kind of religious pictures, and + sometimes she spoke to me of God, with the idea of converting me. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, he was a queer, good-natured being, this God of hers! He was a + sort of village philosopher without any great resources and without great + power, for she always figured him to herself as inconsolable over + injustices committed under his eyes, as though he were powerless to + prevent them. + </p> + <p> + “She was, however, on excellent terms with him, affecting even to be + the confidante of his secrets and of his troubles. She would say: + </p> + <p> + “'God wills' or 'God does not will,' just like a sergeant announcing + to a recruit: 'The colonel has commanded.' + </p> + <p> + “At the bottom of her heart she deplored my ignorance of the + intentions of the Eternal, which she endeavored to impart to me. + </p> + <p> + “Almost every day I found in my pockets, in my hat when I lifted it + from the ground, in my paintbox, in my polished shoes, standing in front + of my door in the morning, those little pious tracts which she no doubt, + received directly from Paradise. + </p> + <p> + “I treated her as one would an old friend, with unaffected + cordiality. But I soon perceived that she had changed somewhat in her + manner, though, for a while, I paid little attention to it. + </p> + <p> + “When I was painting, whether in my valley or in some country lane, + I would see her suddenly appear with her rapid, springy walk. She would + then sit down abruptly, out of breath, as though she had been running or + were overcome by some profound emotion. Her face would be red, that + English red which is denied to the people of all other countries; then, + without any reason, she would turn ashy pale and seem about to faint away. + Gradually, however, her natural color would return and she would begin to + speak. + </p> + <p> + “Then, without warning, she would break off in the middle of a + sentence, spring up from her seat and walk away so rapidly and so + strangely that I was at my wits' ends to discover whether I had done or + said anything to displease or wound her. + </p> + <p> + “I finally came to the conclusion that those were her normal + manners, somewhat modified no doubt in my honor during the first days of + our acquaintance. + </p> + <p> + “When she returned to the farm, after walking for hours on the windy + coast, her long curls often hung straight down, as if their springs had + been broken. This had hitherto seldom given her any concern, and she would + come to dinner without embarrassment all dishevelled by her sister, the + breeze. + </p> + <p> + “But now she would go to her room and arrange the untidy locks, and + when I would say, with familiar gallantry, which, however, always offended + her: + </p> + <p> + “'You are as beautiful as a star to-day, Miss Harriet,' a blush + would immediately rise to her cheeks, the blush of a young girl, of a girl + of fifteen. + </p> + <p> + “Then she would suddenly become quite reserved and cease coming to + watch me paint. I thought, 'This is only a fit of temper; it will blow + over.' But it did not always blow over, and when I spoke to her she would + answer me either with affected indifference or with sullen annoyance. + </p> + <p> + “She became by turns rude, impatient and nervous. I never saw her + now except at meals, and we spoke but little. I concluded at length that I + must have offended her in some way, and, accordingly, I said to her one + evening: + </p> + <p> + “'Miss Harriet, why is it that you do not act toward me as formerly? + What have I done to displease you? You are causing me much pain!' + </p> + <p> + “She replied in a most comical tone of anger: + </p> + <p> + “'I am just the same with you as formerly. It is not true, not + true,' and she ran upstairs and shut herself up in her room. + </p> + <p> + “Occasionally she would look at me in a peculiar manner. I have + often said to myself since then that those who are condemned to death must + look thus when they are informed that their last day has come. In her eye + there lurked a species of insanity, an insanity at once mystical and + violent; and even more, a fever, an aggravated longing, impatient and + impotent, for the unattained and unattainable. + </p> + <p> + “Nay, it seemed to me there was also going on within her a struggle + in which her heart wrestled with an unknown force that she sought to + master, and even, perhaps, something else. But what do I know? What do I + know? + </p> + <p> + “It was indeed a singular revelation. + </p> + <p> + “For some time I had commenced to work, as soon as daylight + appeared, on a picture the subject of which was as follows: + </p> + <p> + “A deep ravine, enclosed, surmounted by two thickets of trees and + vines, extended into the distance and was lost, submerged in that milky + vapor, in that cloud like cotton down that sometimes floats over valleys + at daybreak. And at the extreme end of that heavy, transparent fog one + saw, or, rather, surmised, that a couple of human beings were approaching, + a human couple, a youth and a maiden, their arms interlaced, embracing + each other, their heads inclined toward each other, their lips meeting. + </p> + <p> + “A first ray of the sun, glistening through the branches, pierced + that fog of the dawn, illuminated it with a rosy reflection just behind + the rustic lovers, framing their vague shadows in a silvery background. It + was well done; yes, indeed, well done. + </p> + <p> + “I was working on the declivity which led to the Valley of Etretat. + On this particular morning I had, by chance, the sort of floating vapor + which I needed. Suddenly something rose up in front of me like a phantom; + it was Miss Harriet. On seeing me she was about to flee. But I called + after her, saying: 'Come here, come here, mademoiselle. I have a nice + little picture for you.' + </p> + <p> + “She came forward, though with seeming reluctance. I handed her my + sketch. She said nothing, but stood for a long time, motionless, looking + at it, and suddenly she burst into tears. She wept spasmodically, like men + who have striven hard to restrain their tears, but who can do so no longer + and abandon themselves to grief, though still resisting. I sprang to my + feet, moved at the sight of a sorrow I did not comprehend, and I took her + by the hand with an impulse of brusque affection, a true French impulse + which acts before it reflects. + </p> + <p> + “She let her hands rest in mine for a few seconds, and I felt them + quiver as if all her nerves were being wrenched. Then she withdrew her + hands abruptly, or, rather, snatched them away. + </p> + <p> + “I recognized that tremor, for I had felt it, and I could not be + deceived. Ah! the love tremor of a woman, whether she be fifteen or fifty + years of age, whether she be of the people or of society, goes so straight + to my heart that I never have any hesitation in understanding it! + </p> + <p> + “Her whole frail being had trembled, vibrated, been overcome. I knew + it. She walked away before I had time to say a word, leaving me as + surprised as if I had witnessed a miracle and as troubled as if I had + committed a crime. + </p> + <p> + “I did not go in to breakfast. I went to take a turn on the edge of + the cliff, feeling that I would just as lief weep as laugh, looking on the + adventure as both comic and deplorable and my position as ridiculous, + believing her unhappy enough to go insane. + </p> + <p> + “I asked myself what I ought to do. It seemed best for me to leave + the place, and I immediately resolved to do so. + </p> + <p> + “Somewhat sad and perplexed, I wandered about until dinner time and + entered the farmhouse just when the soup had been served up. + </p> + <p> + “I sat down at the table as usual. Miss Harriet was there, eating + away solemnly, without speaking to any one, without even lifting her eyes. + Her manner and expression were, however, the same as usual. + </p> + <p> + “I waited patiently till the meal had been finished, when, turning + toward the landlady, I said: 'Well, Madame Lecacheur, it will not be long + now before I shall have to take my leave of you.' + </p> + <p> + “The good woman, at once surprised and troubled, replied in her + drawling voice: 'My dear sir, what is it you say? You are going to leave + us after I have become so accustomed to you?' + </p> + <p> + “I glanced at Miss Harriet out of the corner of my eye. Her + countenance did not change in the least. But Celeste, the little servant, + looked up at me. She was a fat girl, of about eighteen years of age, rosy, + fresh, as strong as a horse, and possessing the rare attribute of + cleanliness. I had kissed her at odd times in out-of-the-way corners, + after the manner of travellers—nothing more. + </p> + <p> + “The dinner being at length over, I went to smoke my pipe under the + apple trees, walking up and down from one end of the enclosure to the + other. All the reflections which I had made during the day, the strange + discovery of the morning, that passionate and grotesque attachment for me, + the recollections which that revelation had suddenly called up, + recollections at once charming and perplexing, perhaps also that look + which the servant had cast on me at the announcement of my departure—all + these things, mixed up and combined, put me now in a reckless humor, gave + me a tickling sensation of kisses on the lips and in my veins a something + which urged me on to commit some folly. + </p> + <p> + “Night was coming on, casting its dark shadows under the trees, when + I descried Celeste, who had gone to fasten up the poultry yard at the + other end of the enclosure. I darted toward her, running so noiselessly + that she heard nothing, and as she got up from closing the small trapdoor + by which the chickens got in and out, I clasped her in my arms and rained + on her coarse, fat face a shower of kisses. She struggled, laughing all + the time, as she was accustomed to do in such circumstances. Why did I + suddenly loose my grip of her? Why did I at once experience a shock? What + was it that I heard behind me? + </p> + <p> + “It was Miss Harriet, who had come upon us, who had seen us and who + stood in front of us motionless as a spectre. Then she disappeared in the + darkness. + </p> + <p> + “I was ashamed, embarrassed, more desperate at having been thus + surprised by her than if she had caught me committing some criminal act. + </p> + <p> + “I slept badly that night. I was completely unnerved and haunted by + sad thoughts. I seemed to hear loud weeping, but in this I was no doubt + deceived. Moreover, I thought several times that I heard some one walking + up and down in the house and opening the hall door. + </p> + <p> + “Toward morning I was overcome by fatigue and fell asleep. I got up + late and did not go downstairs until the late breakfast, being still in a + bewildered state, not knowing what kind of expression to put on. + </p> + <p> + “No one had seen Miss Harriet. We waited for her at table, but she + did not appear. At length Mother Lecacheur went to her room. The English + woman had gone out. She must have set out at break of day, as she was wont + to do, in order to see the sun rise. + </p> + <p> + “Nobody seemed surprised at this, and we began to eat in silence. + </p> + <p> + “The weather was hot, very hot, one of those broiling, heavy days + when not a leaf stirs. The table had been placed out of doors, under an + apple tree, and from time to time Sapeur had gone to the cellar to draw a + jug of cider, everybody was so thirsty. Celeste brought the dishes from + the kitchen, a ragout of mutton with potatoes, a cold rabbit and a salad. + Afterward she placed before us a dish of strawberries, the first of the + season. + </p> + <p> + “As I wished to wash and freshen these, I begged the servant to go + and draw me a pitcher of cold water. + </p> + <p> + “In about five minutes she returned, declaring that the well was + dry. She had lowered the pitcher to the full extent of the cord and had + touched the bottom, but on drawing the pitcher up again it was empty. + Mother Lecacheur, anxious to examine the thing for herself, went and + looked down the hole. She returned, announcing that one could see clearly + something in the well, something altogether unusual. But this no doubt was + bundles of straw, which a neighbor had thrown in out of spite. + </p> + <p> + “I wished to look down the well also, hoping I might be able to + clear up the mystery, and I perched myself close to the brink. I perceived + indistinctly a white object. What could it be? I then conceived the idea + of lowering a lantern at the end of a cord. When I did so the yellow flame + danced on the layers of stone and gradually became clearer. All four of us + were leaning over the opening, Sapeur and Celeste having now joined us. + The lantern rested on a black-and-white indistinct mass, singular, + incomprehensible. Sapeur exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “'It is a horse. I see the hoofs. It must have got out of the meadow + during the night and fallen in headlong.' + </p> + <p> + “But suddenly a cold shiver froze me to the marrow. I first + recognized a foot, then a leg sticking up; the whole body and the other + leg were completely under water. + </p> + <p> + “I stammered out in a loud voice, trembling so violently that the + lantern danced hither and thither over the slipper: + </p> + <p> + “'It is a woman! Who-who-can it be? It is Miss Harriet!' + </p> + <p> + “Sapeur alone did not manifest horror. He had witnessed many such + scenes in Africa. + </p> + <p> + “Mother Lecacheur and Celeste began to utter piercing screams and + ran away. + </p> + <p> + “But it was necessary to recover the corpse of the dead woman. I + attached the young man securely by the waist to the end of the pulley rope + and lowered him very slowly, watching him disappear in the darkness. In + one hand he held the lantern and a rope in the other. Soon I recognized + his voice, which seemed to come from the centre of the earth, saying: + </p> + <p> + “'Stop!' + </p> + <p> + “I then saw him fish something out of the water. It was the other + leg. He then bound the two feet together and shouted anew: + </p> + <p> + “'Haul up!' + </p> + <p> + “I began to wind up, but I felt my arms crack, my muscles twitch, + and I was in terror lest I should let the man fall to the bottom. When his + head appeared at the brink I asked: + </p> + <p> + “'Well?' as if I expected he had a message from the drowned woman. + </p> + <p> + “We both got on the stone slab at the edge of the well and from + opposite sides we began to haul up the body. + </p> + <p> + “Mother Lecacheur and Celeste watched us from a distance, concealed + from view behind the wall of the house. When they saw issuing from the + hole the black slippers and white stockings of the drowned person they + disappeared. + </p> + <p> + “Sapeur seized the ankles, and we drew up the body of the poor + woman. The head was shocking to look at, being bruised and lacerated, and + the long gray hair, out of curl forevermore, hanging down tangled and + disordered. + </p> + <p> + “'In the name of all that is holy! how lean she is,' exclaimed + Sapeur in a contemptuous tone. + </p> + <p> + “We carried her into the room, and as the women did not put in an + appearance I, with the assistance of the stable lad, dressed the corpse + for burial. + </p> + <p> + “I washed her disfigured face. Under the touch of my finger an eye + was slightly opened and regarded me with that pale, cold look, that + terrible look of a corpse which seems to come from the beyond. I braided + as well as I could her dishevelled hair and with my clumsy hands arranged + on her head a novel and singular coiffure. Then I took off her dripping + wet garments, baring, not without a feeling of shame, as though I had been + guilty of some profanation, her shoulders and her chest and her long arms, + as slim as the twigs of a tree. + </p> + <p> + “I next went to fetch some flowers, poppies, bluets, marguerites and + fresh, sweet-smelling grass with which to strew her funeral couch. + </p> + <p> + “I then had to go through the usual formalities, as I was alone to + attend to everything. A letter found in her pocket, written at the last + moment, requested that her body be buried in the village in which she had + passed the last days of her life. A sad suspicion weighed on my heart. Was + it not on my account that she wished to be laid to rest in this place? + </p> + <p> + “Toward evening all the female gossips of the locality came to view + the remains of the defunct, but I would not allow a single person to + enter. I wanted to be alone, and I watched beside her all night. + </p> + <p> + “I looked at the corpse by the flickering light of the candles, at + this unhappy woman, unknown to us all, who had died in such a lamentable + manner and so far away from home. Had she left no friends, no relations + behind her? What had her infancy been? What had been her life? Whence had + she come thither alone, a wanderer, lost like a dog driven from home? What + secrets of sufferings and of despair were sealed up in that + unprepossessing body, in that poor body whose outward appearance had + driven from her all affection, all love? + </p> + <p> + “How many unhappy beings there are! I felt that there weighed upon + that human creature the eternal injustice of implacable nature! It was all + over with her, without her ever having experienced, perhaps, that which + sustains the greatest outcasts to wit, the hope of being loved once! + Otherwise why should she thus have concealed herself, fled from the face + of others? Why did she love everything so tenderly and so passionately, + everything living that was not a man? + </p> + <p> + “I recognized the fact that she believed in a God, and that she + hoped to receive compensation from the latter for all the miseries she had + endured. She would now disintegrate and become, in turn, a plant. She + would blossom in the sun, the cattle would browse on her leaves, the birds + would bear away the seeds, and through these changes she would become + again human flesh. But that which is called the soul had been extinguished + at the bottom of the dark well. She suffered no longer. She had given her + life for that of others yet to come. + </p> + <p> + “Hours passed away in this silent and sinister communion with the + dead. A pale light at length announced the dawn of a new day; then a red + ray streamed in on the bed, making a bar of light across the coverlet and + across her hands. This was the hour she had so much loved. The awakened + birds began to sing in the trees. + </p> + <p> + “I opened the window to its fullest extent and drew back the + curtains that the whole heavens might look in upon us, and, bending over + the icy corpse, I took in my hands the mutilated head and slowly, without + terror or disgust, I imprinted a kiss, a long kiss, upon those lips which + had never before been kissed.” + </p> + <p> + Leon Chenal remained silent. The women wept. We heard on the box seat the + Count d'Atraille blowing his nose from time to time. The coachman alone + had gone to sleep. The horses, who no longer felt the sting of the whip, + had slackened their pace and moved along slowly. The drag, hardly + advancing at all, seemed suddenly torpid, as if it had been freighted with + sorrow. + </p> +<div class='pre'> + [Miss Harriet appeared in Le Gaulois, July 9, 1883, under the title + of Miss Hastings. The story was later revised, enlarged; and partly + reconstructed. This is what De Maupassant wrote to Editor Havard + March 15, 1884, in an unedited letter, in regard to the title of the + story that was to give its name to the volume: + + “I do not believe that Hastings is a bad name, inasmuch as it is + known all over the world, and recalls the greatest facts in English + history. Besides, Hastings is as much a name as Duval is with us. + + “The name Cherbuliez selected, Miss Revel, is no more like an + English name than like a Turkish name. But here is another name as + English as Hastings, and more euphonious; it is Miss Harriet. + I will ask you therefore to substitute Harriet for Hastings.” + + It was in regard to this very tittle that De Maupassant had a + disagreement with Audran and Boucheron director of the Bouffes + Parisiens in October, 1890. They had given this title to an operetta + about to be played at the Bouffes. It ended however, by their + ceding to De Maupassant, and the title of the operetta was changed + to Miss Helyett.] +</div> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0031"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + LITTLE LOUISE ROQUE + </h2> + <p> + The former soldier, Mederic Rompel, familiarly called Mederic by the + country folks, left the post office of Roily-le-Tors at the usual hour. + After passing through the village with his long stride, he cut across the + meadows of Villaume and reached the bank of the Brindille, following the + path along the water's edge to the village of Carvelin, where he commenced + to deliver his letters. He walked quickly, following the course of the + narrow river, which frothed, murmured and boiled in its grassy bed beneath + an arch of willows. + </p> + <p> + Mederic went on without stopping, with only this thought in his mind: + “My first letter is for the Poivron family, then I have one for + Monsieur Renardet; so I must cross the wood.” + </p> + <p> + His blue blouse, fastened round his waist by a black leather belt, moved + in a quick, regular fashion above the green hedge of willow trees, and his + stout stick of holly kept time with his steady tread. + </p> + <p> + He crossed the Brindille on a bridge consisting of a tree trunk, with a + handrail of rope, fastened at either end to a stake driven into the + ground. + </p> + <p> + The wood, which belonged to Monsieur Renardet, the mayor of Carvelin and + the largest landowner in the district, consisted of huge old trees, + straight as pillars and extending for about half a league along the left + bank of the stream which served as a boundary to this immense dome of + foliage. Alongside the water large shrubs had grown up in the sunlight, + but under the trees one found nothing but moss, thick, soft and yielding, + from which arose, in the still air, an odor of dampness and of dead wood. + </p> + <p> + Mederic slackened his pace, took off his black cap adorned with red lace + and wiped his forehead, for it was by this time hot in the meadows, though + it was not yet eight o'clock in the morning. + </p> + <p> + He had just recovered from the effects of the heat and resumed his quick + pace when he noticed at the foot of a tree a knife, a child's small knife. + When he picked it up he discovered a thimble and also a needlecase not far + away. + </p> + <p> + Having taken up these objects, he thought: “I'll entrust them to the + mayor,” and he resumed his journey, but now he kept his eyes open, + expecting to find something else. + </p> + <p> + All of a sudden he stopped short, as if he had struck against a wooden + barrier. Ten paces in front of him lay stretched on her back on the moss a + little girl, perfectly nude, her face covered with a handkerchief. She was + about twelve years old. + </p> + <p> + Meredic advanced on tiptoe, as if he apprehended some danger, and he + glanced toward the spot uneasily. + </p> + <p> + What was this? No doubt she was asleep. Then he reflected that a person + does not go to sleep naked at half-past seven in the morning under the + cool trees. So, then, she must be dead, and he must be face to face with a + crime. At this thought a cold shiver ran through his frame, although he + was an old soldier. And then a murder was such a rare thing in the + country, and, above all, the murder of a child, that he could not believe + his eyes. But she had no wound-nothing save a spot of blood on her leg. + How, then, had she been killed? + </p> + <p> + He stopped close to her and gazed at her, while he leaned on his stick. + Certainly he must know her, for he knew all the inhabitants of the + district; but, not being able to get a look at her face, he could not + guess her name. He stooped forward in order to take off the handkerchief + which covered her face, then paused, with outstretched hand, restrained by + an idea that occurred to him. + </p> + <p> + Had he the right to disarrange anything in the condition of the corpse + before the official investigation? He pictured justice to himself as a + kind of general whom nothing escapes and who attaches as much importance + to a lost button as to the stab of a knife in the stomach. Perhaps under + this handkerchief evidence could be found to sustain a charge of murder; + in fact, if such proof were there it might lose its value if touched by an + awkward hand. + </p> + <p> + Then he raised himself with the intention of hastening toward the mayor's + residence, but again another thought held him back. If the little girl + were still alive, by any chance, he could not leave her lying there in + this way. He sank on his knees very gently, a little distance from her, + through precaution, and extended his hand toward her foot. It was icy + cold, with the terrible coldness of death which leaves us no longer in + doubt. The letter carrier, as he touched her, felt his heart in his mouth, + as he said himself afterward, and his mouth parched. Rising up abruptly, + he rushed off under the trees toward Monsieur Renardet's house. + </p> + <p> + He walked on faster than ever, with his stick under his arm, his hands + clenched and his head thrust forward, while his leathern bag, filled with + letters and newspapers, kept flapping at his side. + </p> + <p> + The mayor's residence was at the end of the wood which served as a park, + and one side of it was washed by the Brindille. + </p> + <p> + It was a big square house of gray stone, very old, and had stood many a + siege in former days, and at the end of it was a huge tower, twenty metres + high, rising out of the water. + </p> + <p> + From the top of this fortress one could formerly see all the surrounding + country. It was called the Fox's tower, without any one knowing exactly + why; and from this appellation, no doubt, had come the name Renardet, + borne by the owners of this fief, which had remained in the same family, + it was said, for more than two hundred years. For the Renardets formed + part of the upper middle class, all but noble, to be met with so often in + the province before the Revolution. + </p> + <p> + The postman dashed into the kitchen, where the servants were taking + breakfast, and exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “Is the mayor up? I want to speak to him at once.” + </p> + <p> + Mederic was recognized as a man of standing and authority, and they + understood that something serious had happened. + </p> + <p> + As soon as word was brought to Monsieur Renardet, he ordered the postman + to be sent up to him. Pale and out of breath, with his cap in his hand, + Mederic found the mayor seated at a long table covered with scattered + papers. + </p> + <p> + He was a large, tall man, heavy and red-faced, strong as an ox, and was + greatly liked in the district, although of an excessively violent + disposition. Almost forty years old and a widower for the past six months, + he lived on his estate like a country gentleman. His choleric temperament + had often brought him into trouble from which the magistrates of + Roily-le-Tors, like indulgent and prudent friends, had extricated him. Had + he not one day thrown the conductor of the diligence from the top of his + seat because he came near running over his retriever, Micmac? Had he not + broken the ribs of a gamekeeper who abused him for having, gun in hand, + passed through a neighbor's property? Had he not even caught by the collar + the sub-prefect, who stopped over in the village during an administrative + circuit, called by Monsieur Renardet an electioneering circuit, for he was + opposed to the government, in accordance with family traditions. + </p> + <p> + The mayor asked: + </p> + <p> + “What's the matter now, Mederic?” + </p> + <p> + “I found a little girl dead in your wood.” + </p> + <p> + Renardet rose to his feet, his face the color of brick. + </p> + <p> + “What do you say—a little girl?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, m'sieu, a little girl, quite naked, on her back, with blood on + her, dead—quite dead!” + </p> + <p> + The mayor gave vent to an oath: + </p> + <p> + “By God, I'd make a bet it is little Louise Roque! I have just + learned that she did not go home to her mother last night. Where did you + find her?” + </p> + <p> + The postman described the spot, gave full details and offered to conduct + the mayor to the place. + </p> + <p> + But Renardet became brusque: + </p> + <p> + “No, I don't need you. Send the watchman, the mayor's secretary and + the doctor to me at once, and resume your rounds. Quick, quick, go and + tell them to meet me in the wood.” + </p> + <p> + The letter carrier, a man used to discipline, obeyed and withdrew, angry + and grieved at not being able to be present at the investigation. + </p> + <p> + The mayor, in his turn, prepared to go out, took his big soft hat and + paused for a few seconds on the threshold of his abode. In front of him + stretched a wide sward, in which were three large beds of flowers in full + bloom, one facing the house and the others at either side of it. Farther + on the outlying trees of the wood rose skyward, while at the left, beyond + the Brindille, which at that spot widened into a pond, could be seen long + meadows, an entirely green flat sweep of country, intersected by trenches + and hedges of pollard willows. + </p> + <p> + To the right, behind the stables, the outhouses and all the buildings + connected with the property, might be seen the village, which was wealthy, + being mainly inhabited by cattle breeders. + </p> + <p> + Renardet slowly descended the steps in front of his house, and, turning to + the left, gained the water's edge, which he followed at a slow pace, his + hand behind his back. He walked on, with bent head, and from time to time + glanced round in search of the persons he had sent for. + </p> + <p> + When he stood beneath the trees he stopped, took off his hat and wiped his + forehead as Mederic had done, for the burning sun was darting its fiery + rays on the earth. Then the mayor resumed his journey, stopped once more + and retraced his steps. Suddenly, stooping down, he steeped his + handkerchief in the stream that glided along at his feet and spread it + over his head, under his hat. Drops of water flowed down his temples over + his ears, which were always purple, over his strong red neck, and made + their way, one after the other, under his white shirt collar. + </p> + <p> + As nobody had appeared, he began tapping with his foot, then he called + out: + </p> + <p> + “Hello! Hello!” + </p> + <p> + A voice at his right answered: + </p> + <p> + “Hello! Hello!” + </p> + <p> + And the doctor appeared under the trees. He was a thin little man, an + ex-military surgeon, who passed in the neighborhood for a very skillful + practitioner. He limped, having been wounded while in the service, and had + to use a stick to assist him in walking. + </p> + <p> + Next came the watchman and the mayor's secretary, who, having been sent + for at the same time, arrived together. They looked scared, and hurried + forward, out of breath, walking and running alternately to hasten their + progress, and moving their arms up and down so vigorously that they seemed + to do more work with them than with their legs. + </p> + <p> + Renardet said to the doctor: + </p> + <p> + “You know what the trouble is about?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, a child found dead in the wood by Mederic.” + </p> + <p> + “That's quite correct. Come on!” + </p> + <p> + They walked along, side by side, followed by the two men. + </p> + <p> + Their steps made no sound on the moss. Their eyes were gazing ahead in + front of them. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly the doctor, extending his arm, said: + </p> + <p> + “See, there she is!” + </p> + <p> + Far ahead of them under the trees they saw something white on which the + sun gleamed down through the branches. As they approached they gradually + distinguished a human form lying there, its head toward the river, the + face covered and the arms extended as though on a crucifix. + </p> + <p> + “I am fearfully warm,” said the mayor, and stooping down, he + again soaked his handkerchief in the water and placed it round his + forehead. + </p> + <p> + The doctor hastened his steps, interested by the discovery. As soon as + they were near the corpse, he bent down to examine it without touching it. + He had put on his pince-nez, as one does in examining some curious object, + and turned round very quietly. + </p> + <p> + He said, without rising: + </p> + <p> + “Violated and murdered, as we shall prove presently. This little + girl, moreover, is almost a woman—look at her throat.” + </p> + <p> + The doctor lightly drew away the handkerchief which covered her face, + which looked black, frightful, the tongue protruding, the eyes bloodshot. + He went on: + </p> + <p> + “By heavens! She was strangled the moment the deed was done.” + </p> + <p> + He felt her neck. + </p> + <p> + “Strangled with the hands without leaving any special trace, neither + the mark of the nails nor the imprint of the fingers. Quite right. It is + little Louise Roque, sure enough!” + </p> + <p> + He carefully replaced the handkerchief. + </p> + <p> + “There's nothing for me to do. She's been dead for the last hour at + least. We must give notice of the matter to the authorities.” + </p> + <p> + Renardet, standing up, with his hands behind his back, kept staring with a + stony look at the little body exposed to view on the grass. He murmured: + </p> + <p> + “What a wretch! We must find the clothes.” + </p> + <p> + The doctor felt the hands, the arms, the legs. He said: + </p> + <p> + “She had been bathing no doubt. They ought to be at the water's + edge.” + </p> + <p> + The mayor thereupon gave directions: + </p> + <p> + “Do you, Principe” (this was his secretary), “go and + find those clothes for me along the stream. You, Maxime” (this was + the watchman), “hurry on toward Rouy-le-Tors and bring with you the + magistrate with the gendarmes. They must be here within an hour. You + understand?” + </p> + <p> + The two men started at once, and Renardet said to the doctor: + </p> + <p> + “What miscreant could have done such a deed in this part of the + country?” + </p> + <p> + The doctor murmured: + </p> + <p> + “Who knows? Any one is capable of that. Every one in particular and + nobody in general. No matter, it must be some prowler, some workman out of + employment. Since we have become a Republic we meet only this kind of + person along the roads.” + </p> + <p> + Both of them were Bonapartists. + </p> + <p> + The mayor went on: + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it can only be a stranger, a passer-by, a vagabond without + hearth or home.” + </p> + <p> + The doctor added, with the shadow of a smile on his face: + </p> + <p> + “And without a wife. Having neither a good supper nor a good bed, he + became reckless. You can't tell how many men there may be in the world + capable of a crime at a given moment. Did you know that this little girl + had disappeared?” + </p> + <p> + And with the end of his stick he touched one after the other the stiffened + fingers of the corpse, resting on them as on the keys of a piano. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, the mother came last night to look for me about nine o'clock, + the child not having come home at seven to supper. We looked for her along + the roads up to midnight, but we did not think of the wood. However, we + needed daylight to carry out a thorough search.” + </p> + <p> + “Will you have a cigar?” said the doctor. + </p> + <p> + “Thanks, I don't care to smoke. This thing affects me so.” + </p> + <p> + They remained standing beside the corpse of the young girl, so pale on the + dark moss. A big blue fly was walking over the body with his lively, jerky + movements. The two men kept watching this wandering speck. + </p> + <p> + The doctor said: + </p> + <p> + “How pretty it is, a fly on the skin! The ladies of the last century + had good reason to paste them on their faces. Why has this fashion gone + out?” + </p> + <p> + The mayor seemed not to hear, plunged as he was in deep thought. + </p> + <p> + But, all of a sudden, he turned round, surprised by a shrill noise. A + woman in a cap and blue apron was running toward them under the trees. It + was the mother, La Roque. As soon as she saw Renardet she began to shriek: + </p> + <p> + “My little girl! Where's my little girl?” so distractedly that + she did not glance down at the ground. Suddenly she saw the corpse, + stopped short, clasped her hands and raised both her arms while she + uttered a sharp, heartrending cry—the cry of a wounded animal. Then + she rushed toward the body, fell on her knees and snatched away the + handkerchief that covered the face. When she saw that frightful + countenance, black and distorted, she rose to her feet with a shudder, + then sinking to the ground, face downward, she pressed her face against + the ground and uttered frightful, continuous screams on the thick moss. + </p> + <p> + Her tall, thin frame, with its close-clinging dress, was palpitating, + shaken with spasms. One could see her bony ankles and her dried-up calves + covered with coarse blue stockings shaking horribly. She was digging the + soil with her crooked fingers, as though she were trying to make a hole in + which to hide herself. + </p> + <p> + The doctor, much affected, said in a low tone: + </p> + <p> + “Poor old woman!” + </p> + <p> + Renardet felt a strange sensation. Then he gave vent to a sort of loud + sneeze, and, drawing his handkerchief from his pocket, he began to weep + internally, coughing, sobbing and blowing his nose noisily. + </p> + <p> + He stammered: + </p> + <p> + “Damn—damn—damned pig to do this! I would like to +see him guillotined.” + </p> + <p> + Principe reappeared with his hands empty. He murmured: + </p> + <p> + “I have found nothing, M'sieu le Maire, nothing at all anywhere.” + </p> + <p> + The mayor, alarmed, replied in a thick voice, drowned in tears: + </p> + <p> + “What is that you could not find?” + </p> + <p> + “The little girl's clothes.” + </p> + <p> + “Well—well—look again, and find them—or you 'll + have to answer to me.” + </p> + <p> + The man, knowing that the mayor would not brook opposition, set forth + again with hesitating steps, casting a timid side glance at the corpse. + </p> + <p> + Distant voices were heard under the trees, a confused sound, the noise of + an approaching crowd, for Mederic had, in the course of his rounds, + carried the news from door to door. The people of the neighborhood, dazed + at first, had gossiped about it in the street, from one threshold to + another. Then they gathered together. They talked over, discussed and + commented on the event for some minutes and had now come to see for + themselves. + </p> + <p> + They arrived in groups, a little faltering and uneasy through fear of the + first impression of such a scene on their minds. When they saw the body + they stopped, not daring to advance, and speaking low. Then they grew + bolder, went on a few steps, stopped again, advanced once more, and + presently formed around the dead girl, her mother, the doctor and Renardet + a close circle, restless and noisy, which crowded forward at the sudden + impact of newcomers. And now they touched the corpse. Some of them even + bent down to feel it with their fingers. The doctor kept them back. But + the mayor, waking abruptly out of his torpor, flew into a rage, and + seizing Dr. Labarbe's stick, flung himself on his townspeople, stammering: + </p> + <p> + “Clear out—clear out—you pack of brutes—clear out!” + </p> + <p> + And in a second the crowd of sightseers had fallen back two hundred paces. + </p> + <p> + Mother La Roque had risen to a sitting posture and now remained weeping, + with her hands clasped over her face. + </p> + <p> + The crowd was discussing the affair, and young lads' eager eyes curiously + scrutinized this nude young form. Renardet perceived this, and, abruptly + taking off his coat, he flung it over the little girl, who was entirely + hidden from view beneath the large garment. + </p> + <p> + The secretary drew near quietly. The wood was filled with people, and a + continuous hum of voices rose up under the tangled foliage of the tall + trees. + </p> + <p> + The mayor, in his shirt sleeves, remained standing, with his stick in his + hands, in a fighting attitude. He seemed exasperated by this curiosity on + the part of the people and kept repeating: + </p> + <p> + “If one of you come nearer I'll break his head just as I would a + dog's.” + </p> + <p> + The peasants were greatly afraid of him. They held back. Dr. Labarbe, who + was smoking, sat down beside La Roque and spoke to her in order to + distract her attention. The old woman at once removed her hands from her + face and replied with a flood of tearful words, emptying her grief in + copious talk. She told the whole story of her life, her marriage, the + death of her man, a cattle drover, who had been gored to death, the + infancy of her daughter, her wretched existence as a widow without + resources and with a child to support. She had only this one, her little + Louise, and the child had been killed—killed in this wood. Then she + felt anxious to see her again, and, dragging herself on her knees toward + the corpse, she raised up one corner of the garment that covered her; then + she let it fall again and began wailing once more. The crowd remained + silent, eagerly watching all the mother's gestures. + </p> + <p> + But suddenly there was a great commotion at the cry of “The + gendarmes! the gendarmes!” + </p> + <p> + Two gendarmes appeared in the distance, advancing at a rapid trot, + escorting their captain and a little gentleman with red whiskers, who was + bobbing up and down like a monkey on a big white mare. + </p> + <p> + The watchman had just found Monsieur Putoin, the magistrate, at the moment + when he was mounting his horse to take his daily ride, for he posed as a + good horseman, to the great amusement of the officers. + </p> + <p> + He dismounted, along with the captain, and pressed the hands of the mayor + and the doctor, casting a ferret-like glance on the linen coat beneath + which lay the corpse. + </p> + <p> + When he was made acquainted with all the facts, he first gave orders to + disperse the crowd, whom the gendarmes drove out of the wood, but who soon + reappeared in the meadow and formed a hedge, a big hedge of excited and + moving heads, on the other side of the stream. + </p> + <p> + The doctor, in his turn, gave explanations, which Renardet noted down in + his memorandum book. All the evidence was given, taken down and commented + on without leading to any discovery. Maxime, too, came back without having + found any trace of the clothes. + </p> + <p> + This disappearance surprised everybody; no one could explain it except on + the theory of theft, and as her rags were not worth twenty sous, even this + theory was inadmissible. + </p> + <p> + The magistrate, the mayor, the captain and the doctor set to work + searching in pairs, putting aside the smallest branch along the water. + </p> + <p> + Renardet said to the judge: + </p> + <p> + “How does it happen that this wretch has concealed or carried away + the clothes, and has thus left the body exposed, in sight of every one?” + </p> + <p> + The other, crafty and sagacious, answered: + </p> + <p> + “Ha! ha! Perhaps a dodge? This crime has been committed either by a + brute or by a sly scoundrel. In any case, we'll easily succeed in finding + him.” + </p> + <p> + The noise of wheels made them turn their heads round. It was the deputy + magistrate, the doctor and the registrar of the court who had arrived in + their turn. They resumed their search, all chatting in an animated + fashion. + </p> + <p> + Renardet said suddenly: + </p> + <p> + “Do you know that you are to take luncheon with me?” + </p> + <p> + Every one smilingly accepted the invitation, and the magistrate, thinking + that the case of little Louise Roque had occupied enough attention for one + day, turned toward the mayor. + </p> + <p> + “I can have the body brought to your house, can I not? You have a + room in which you can keep it for me till this evening?” + </p> + <p> + The other became confused and stammered: + </p> + <p> + “Yes—no—no. To tell the truth, I prefer that it should + not come into my house on account of—on account of my servants, who + are already talking about ghosts in—in my tower, in the Fox's tower. + You know—I could no longer keep a single one. No—I prefer not + to have it in my house.” + </p> + <p> + The magistrate began to smile. + </p> + <p> + “Good! I will have it taken at once to Roily for the legal + examination.” And, turning to his deputy, he said: + </p> + <p> + “I can make use of your trap, can I not?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, certainly.” + </p> + <p> + They all came back to the place where the corpse lay. Mother La Roque, now + seated beside her daughter, was holding her hand and was staring right + before her with a wandering, listless eye. + </p> + <p> + The two doctors endeavored to lead her away, so that she might not witness + the dead girl's removal, but she understood at once what they wanted to + do, and, flinging herself on the body, she threw both arms round it. Lying + on top of the corpse, she exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “You shall not have it—it's mine—it's mine now. They + have killed her for me, and I want to keep her—you shall not have + her——” + </p> + <p> + All the men, affected and not knowing how to act, remained standing around + her. Renardet fell on his knees and said to her: + </p> + <p> + “Listen, La Roque, it is necessary, in order to find out who killed + her. Without this, we could not find out. We must make a search for the + man in order to punish him. When we have found him we'll give her up to + you. I promise you this.” + </p> + <p> + This explanation bewildered the woman, and a feeling of hatred manifested + itself in her distracted glance. + </p> + <p> + “So then they'll arrest him?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I promise you that.” + </p> + <p> + She rose up, deciding to let them do as they liked, but when the captain + remarked: + </p> + <p> + “It is surprising that her clothes were not found,” a new + idea, which she had not previously thought of, abruptly entered her mind, + and she asked: + </p> + <p> + “Where are her clothes? They're mine. I want them. Where have they + been put?” + </p> + <p> + They explained to her that they had not been found. Then she demanded them + persistently, crying and moaning. + </p> + <p> + “They're mine—I want them. Where are they? I want them!” + </p> + <p> + The more they tried to calm her the more she sobbed and persisted in her + demands. She no longer wanted the body, she insisted on having the + clothes, as much perhaps through the unconscious cupidity of a wretched + being to whom a piece of silver represents a fortune as through maternal + tenderness. + </p> + <p> + And when the little body, rolled up in blankets which had been brought out + from Renardet's house, had disappeared in the vehicle, the old woman + standing under the trees, sustained by the mayor and the captain, + exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “I have nothing, nothing, nothing in the world, not even her little + cap —her little cap.” + </p> + <p> + The cure, a young priest, had just arrived. He took it on himself to + accompany the mother, and they went away together toward the village. The + mother's grief was modified by the sugary words of the clergyman, who + promised her a thousand compensations. But she kept repeating: “If I + had only her little cap.” This idea now dominated every other. + </p> + <p> + Renardet called from the distance: + </p> + <p> + “You will lunch with us, Monsieur l'Abbe—in an hour's time.” + </p> + <p> + The priest turned his head round and replied: + </p> + <p> + “With pleasure, Monsieur le Maire. I'll be with you at twelve.” + </p> + <p> + And they all directed their steps toward the house, whose gray front, with + the large tower built on the edge of the Brindille, could be seen through + the branches. + </p> + <p> + The meal lasted a long time. They talked about the crime. Everybody was of + the same opinion. It had been committed by some tramp passing there by + mere chance while the little girl was bathing. + </p> + <p> + Then the magistrates returned to Rouy, announcing that they would return + next day at an early hour. The doctor and the cure went to their + respective homes, while Renardet, after a long walk through the meadows, + returned to the wood, where he remained walking till nightfall with slow + steps, his hands behind his back. + </p> + <p> + He went to bed early and was still asleep next morning when the magistrate + entered his room. He was rubbing his hands together with a self-satisfied + air. + </p> + <p> + “Ha! ha! You are still sleeping! Well, my dear fellow, we have news + this morning.” + </p> + <p> + The mayor sat up in his bed. + </p> + <p> + “What, pray?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! Something strange. You remember well how the mother clamored + yesterday for some memento of her daughter, especially her little cap? + Well, on opening her door this morning she found on the threshold her + child's two little wooden shoes. This proves that the crime was + perpetrated by some one from the district, some one who felt pity for her. + Besides, the postman, Mederic, brought me the thimble, the knife and the + needle case of the dead girl. So, then, the man in carrying off the + clothes to hide them must have let fall the articles which were in the + pocket. As for me, I attach special importance to the wooden shoes, as + they indicate a certain moral culture and a faculty for tenderness on the + part of the assassin. We will, therefore, if you have no objection, go + over together the principal inhabitants of your district.” + </p> + <p> + The mayor got up. He rang for his shaving water and said: + </p> + <p> + “With pleasure, but it will take some time, and we may begin at + once.” + </p> + <p> + M. Putoin sat astride a chair. + </p> + <p> + Renardet covered his chin with a white lather while he looked at himself + in the glass. Then he sharpened his razor on the strop and continued: + </p> + <p> + “The principal inhabitant of Carvelin bears the name of Joseph + Renardet, mayor, a rich landowner, a rough man who beats guards and + coachmen—” + </p> + <p> + The examining magistrate burst out laughing. + </p> + <p> + “That's enough. Let us pass on to the next.” + </p> + <p> + “The second in importance is Pelledent, his deputy, a cattle + breeder, an equally rich landowner, a crafty peasant, very sly, very + close-fisted on every question of money, but incapable in my opinion of + having perpetrated such a crime.” + </p> + <p> + “Continue,” said M. Putoin. + </p> + <p> + Renardet, while proceeding with his toilet, reviewed the characters of all + the inhabitants of Carvelin. After two hours' discussion their suspicions + were fixed on three individuals who had hitherto borne a shady reputation—a + poacher named Cavalle, a fisherman named Paquet, who caught trout and + crabs, and a cattle drover named Clovis. II + </p> + <p> + The search for the perpetrator of the crime lasted all summer, but he was + not discovered. Those who were suspected and arrested easily proved their + innocence, and the authorities were compelled to abandon the attempt to + capture the criminal. + </p> + <p> + But this murder seemed to have moved the entire country in a singular + manner. There remained in every one's mind a disquietude, a vague fear, a + sensation of mysterious terror, springing not merely from the + impossibility of discovering any trace of the assassin, but also and above + all from that strange finding of the wooden shoes in front of La Roque's + door the day after the crime. The certainty that the murderer had assisted + at the investigation, that he was still, doubtless, living in the village, + possessed all minds and seemed to brood over the neighborhood like a + constant menace. + </p> + <p> + The wood had also become a dreaded spot, a place to be avoided and + supposed to be haunted. + </p> + <p> + Formerly the inhabitants went there to spend every Sunday afternoon. They + used to sit down on the moss at the feet of the huge tall trees or walk + along the water's edge watching the trout gliding among the weeds. The + boy's used to play bowls, hide-and-seek and other games where the ground + had been cleared and levelled, and the girls, in rows of four or five, + would trip along, holding one another by the arms and screaming songs with + their shrill voices. Now nobody ventured there for fear of finding some + corpse lying on the ground. + </p> + <p> + Autumn arrived, the leaves began to fall from the tall trees, whirling + round and round to the ground, and the sky could be seen through the bare + branches. Sometimes, when a gust of wind swept over the tree tops, the + slow, continuous rain suddenly grew heavier and became a rough storm that + covered the moss with a thick yellow carpet that made a kind of creaking + sound beneath one's feet. + </p> + <p> + And the sound of the falling leaves seemed like a wail and the leaves + themselves like tears shed by these great, sorrowful trees, that wept in + the silence of the bare and empty wood, this dreaded and deserted wood + where wandered lonely the soul, the little soul of little Louise Roque. + </p> + <p> + The Brindille, swollen by the storms, rushed on more quickly, yellow and + angry, between its dry banks, bordered by two thin, bare, willow hedges. + </p> + <p> + And here was Renardet suddenly resuming his walks under the trees. Every + day, at sunset, he came out of his house, descended the front steps slowly + and entered the wood in a dreamy fashion, with his hands in his pockets, + and paced over the damp soft moss, while a legion of rooks from all the + neighboring haunts came thither to rest in the tall trees and then flew + off like a black cloud uttering loud, discordant cries. + </p> + <p> + Night came on, and Renardet was still strolling slowly under the trees; + then, when the darkness prevented him from walking any longer, he would go + back to the house and sink into his armchair in front of the glowing + hearth, stretching his damp feet toward the fire. + </p> + <p> + One morning an important bit of news was circulated through the district; + the mayor was having his wood cut down. + </p> + <p> + Twenty woodcutters were already at work. They had commenced at the corner + nearest to the house and worked rapidly in the master's presence. + </p> + <p> + And each day the wood grew thinner, losing its trees, which fell down one + by one, as an army loses its soldiers. + </p> + <p> + Renardet no longer walked up, and down. He remained from morning till + night, contemplating, motionless, with his hands behind his back, the slow + destruction of his wood. When a tree fell he placed his foot on it as if + it were a corpse. Then he raised his eyes to the next with a kind of + secret, calm impatience, as if he expected, hoped for something at the end + of this slaughter. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile they were approaching the place where little Louise Roque had + been found. They came to it one evening in the twilight. + </p> + <p> + As it was dark, the sky being overcast, the woodcutters wanted to stop + their work, putting off till next day the fall of an enormous beech tree, + but the mayor objected to this and insisted that they should at once lop + and cut down this giant, which had sheltered the crime. + </p> + <p> + When the lopper had laid it bare and the woodcutters had sapped its base, + five men commenced hauling at the rope attached to the top. + </p> + <p> + The tree resisted; its powerful trunk, although notched to the centre, was + as rigid as iron. The workmen, all together, with a sort of simultaneous + motion, strained at the rope, bending backward and uttering a cry which + timed and regulated their efforts. + </p> + <p> + Two woodcutters standing close to the giant remained with axes in their + grip, like two executioners ready to strike once more, and Renardet, + motionless, with his hand on the trunk, awaited the fall with an uneasy, + nervous feeling. + </p> + <p> + One of the men said to him: + </p> + <p> + “You are too near, Monsieur le Maire. When it falls it may hurt you.” + </p> + <p> + He did not reply and did not move away. He seemed ready to catch the beech + tree in his open arms and to cast it on the ground like a wrestler. + </p> + <p> + All at once, at the base of the tall column of wood there was a rent which + seemed to run to the top, like a painful shock; it bent slightly, ready to + fall, but still resisting. The men, in a state of excitement, stiffened + their arms, renewed their efforts with greater vigor, and, just as the + tree came crashing down, Renardet suddenly made a forward step, then + stopped, his shoulders raised to receive the irresistible shock, the + mortal shock which would crush him to the earth. + </p> + <p> + But the beech tree, having deviated a little, only rubbed against his + loins, throwing him on his face, five metres away. + </p> + <p> + The workmen dashed forward to lift him up. He had already arisen to his + knees, stupefied, with bewildered eyes and passing his hand across his + forehead, as if he were awaking from an attack of madness. + </p> + <p> + When he had got to his feet once more the men, astonished, questioned him, + not being able to understand what he had done. He replied in faltering + tones that he had been dazed for a moment, or, rather, he had been + thinking of his childhood days; that he thought he would have time to run + under the tree, just as street boys rush in front of vehicles driving + rapidly past; that he had played at danger; that for the past eight days + he felt this desire growing stronger within him, asking himself each time + a tree began to fall whether he could pass beneath it without being + touched. It was a piece of stupidity, he confessed, but every one has + these moments of insanity and these temptations to boyish folly. + </p> + <p> + He made this explanation in a slow tone, searching for his words, and + speaking in a colorless tone. + </p> + <p> + Then he went off, saying: + </p> + <p> + “Till to-morrow, my friends-till to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + As soon as he got back to his room he sat down at his table which his lamp + lighted up brightly, and, burying his head in his hands, he began to cry. + </p> + <p> + He remained thus for a long time, then wiped his eyes, raised his head and + looked at the clock. It was not yet six o'clock. + </p> + <p> + He thought: + </p> + <p> + “I have time before dinner.” + </p> + <p> + And he went to the door and locked it. He then came back, and, sitting + down at his table, pulled out the middle drawer. Taking from it a + revolver, he laid it down on his papers in full view. The barrel of the + firearm glittered, giving out gleams of light. + </p> + <p> + Renardet gazed at it for some time with the uneasy glance of a drunken + man. Then he rose and began to pace up and down the room. + </p> + <p> + He walked from one end of the apartment to the other, stopping from time + to time, only to pace up and down again a moment afterward. Suddenly he + opened the door of his dressing-room, steeped a towel in the water pitcher + and moistened his forehead, as he had done on the morning of the crime. + </p> + <p> + Then he, began walking up and down again. Each time he passed the table + the gleaming revolver attracted his glance, tempted his hand, but he kept + watching the clock and reflected: + </p> + <p> + “I have still time.” + </p> + <p> + It struck half-past six. Then he took up the revolver, opened his mouth + wide with a frightful grimace and stuck the barrel into it as if he wanted + to swallow it. He remained in this position for some seconds without + moving, his finger on the trigger. Then, suddenly seized with a shudder of + horror, he dropped the pistol on the carpet. + </p> + <p> + He fell back on his armchair, sobbing: + </p> + <p> + “I cannot. I dare not! My God! my God! How can I have the courage to + kill myself?'” + </p> + <p> + There was a knock at the door. He rose up, bewildered. A servant said: + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur's dinner is ready.” + </p> + <p> + He replied: + </p> + <p> + “All right. I'm coming down.” + </p> + <p> + Then he picked up the revolver, locked it up again in the drawer and + looked at himself in the mirror over the mantelpiece to see whether his + face did not look too much troubled. It was as red as usual, a little + redder perhaps. That was all. He went down and seated himself at table. + </p> + <p> + He ate slowly, like a man who wants to prolong the meal, who does not want + to be alone. + </p> + <p> + Then he smoked several pipes in the hall while the table was being + cleared. After that he went back to his room. + </p> + <p> + As soon as he had locked himself in he looked, under the bed, opened all + the closets, explored every corner, rummaged through all the furniture. + Then he lighted the candles on the mantelpiece, and, turning round several + times, ran his eye all over the apartment with an anguish of terror that + distorted his face, for he knew well that he would see her, as he did + every night—little Louise Roque, the little girl he had attacked and + afterward strangled. + </p> + <p> + Every night the odious vision came back again. First he seemed to hear a + kind of roaring sound, such as is made by a threshing machine or the + distant passage of a train over a bridge. Then he commenced to gasp, to + suffocate, and he had to unbutton his collar and his belt. He moved about + to make his blood circulate, he tried to read, he attempted to sing. It + was in vain. His thoughts, in spite of himself, went back to the day of + the murder and made him begin it all over again in all its most secret + details, with all the violent emotions he had experienced from the first + minute to the last. + </p> + <p> + He had felt on rising that morning, the morning of the horrible day, a + little dizziness and headache, which he attributed to the heat, so that he + remained in his room until breakfast time. + </p> + <p> + After the meal he had taken a siesta, then, toward the close of the + afternoon, he had gone out to breathe the fresh, soothing breeze under the + trees in the wood. + </p> + <p> + But, as soon as he was outside, the heavy, scorching air of the plain + oppressed him still more. The sun, still high in the heavens, poured down + on the parched soil waves of burning light. Not a breath of wind stirred + the leaves. Every beast and bird, even the grasshoppers, were silent. + Renardet reached the tall trees and began to walk over the moss where the + Brindille produced a slight freshness of the air beneath the immense roof + of branches. But he felt ill at ease. It seemed to him that an unknown, + invisible hand was strangling him, and he scarcely thought of anything, + having usually few ideas in his head. For the last three months only one + thought haunted him, the thought of marrying again. He suffered from + living alone, suffered from it morally and physically. Accustomed for ten + years past to feeling a woman near him, habituated to her presence every + moment, he had need, an imperious and perplexing need of such association. + Since Madame Renardet's death he had suffered continually without knowing + why, he had suffered at not feeling her dress brushing past him, and, + above all, from no longer being able to calm and rest himself in her arms. + He had been scarcely six months a widower and he was already looking about + in the district for some young girl or some widow he might marry when his + period of mourning was at an end. + </p> + <p> + He had a chaste soul, but it was lodged in a powerful, herculean body, and + carnal imaginings began to disturb his sleep and his vigils. He drove them + away; they came back again; and he murmured from time to time, smiling at + himself: + </p> + <p> + “Here I am, like St. Anthony.” + </p> + <p> + Having this special morning had several of these visions, the desire + suddenly came into his breast to bathe in the Brindille in order to + refresh himself and cool his blood. + </p> + <p> + He knew of a large deep pool, a little farther down, where the people of + the neighborhood came sometimes to take a dip in summer. He went there. + </p> + <p> + Thick willow trees hid this clear body of water where the current rested + and went to sleep for a while before starting on its way again. Renardet, + as he appeared, thought he heard a light sound, a faint plashing which was + not that of the stream on the banks. He softly put aside the leaves and + looked. A little girl, quite naked in the transparent water, was beating + the water with both hands, dancing about in it and dipping herself with + pretty movements. She was not a child nor was she yet a woman. She was + plump and developed, while preserving an air of youthful precocity, as of + one who had grown rapidly. He no longer moved, overcome with surprise, + with desire, holding his breath with a strange, poignant emotion. He + remained there, his heart beating as if one of his sensuous dreams had + just been realized, as if an impure fairy had conjured up before him this + young creature, this little rustic Venus, rising from the eddies of the + stream as the real Venus rose from the waves of the sea. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly the little girl came out of the water, and, without seeing him, + came over to where he stood, looking for her clothes in order to dress + herself. As she approached gingerly, on account of the sharp-pointed + stones, he felt himself pushed toward her by an irresistible force, by a + bestial transport of passion, which stirred his flesh, bewildered his mind + and made him tremble from head to foot. + </p> + <p> + She remained standing some seconds behind the willow tree which concealed + him from view. Then, losing his reason entirely, he pushed aside the + branches, rushed on her and seized her in his arms. She fell, too + terrified to offer any resistance, too terror-stricken to cry out. He + seemed possessed, not understanding what he was doing. + </p> + <p> + He woke from his crime as one wakes from a nightmare. The child burst out + weeping. + </p> + <p> + “Hold your tongue! Hold your tongue!” he said. “I'll + give you money.” + </p> + <p> + But she did not hear him and went on sobbing. + </p> + <p> + “Come now, hold your tongue! Do hold your tongue! Keep quiet!” + he continued. + </p> + <p> + She kept shrieking as she tried to free herself. He suddenly realized that + he was ruined, and he caught her by the neck to stop her mouth from + uttering these heartrending, dreadful screams. As she continued to + struggle with the desperate strength of a being who is seeking to fly from + death, he pressed his enormous hands on the little throat swollen with + screaming, and in a few seconds he had strangled her, so furiously did he + grip her. He had not intended to kill her, but only to make her keep + quiet. + </p> + <p> + Then he stood up, overwhelmed with horror. + </p> + <p> + She lay before him, her face bleeding and blackned. He was about to rush + away when there sprang up in his agitated soul the mysterious and + undefined instinct that guides all beings in the hour of danger. + </p> + <p> + He was going to throw the body into the water, but another impulse drove + him toward the clothes, which he made into a small package. Then, as he + had a piece of twine in his pocket, he tied it up and hid it in a deep + portion of the stream, beneath the trunk of a tree that overhung the + Brindille. + </p> + <p> + Then he went off at a rapid pace, reached the meadows, took a wide turn in + order to show himself to some peasants who dwelt some distance away at the + opposite side of the district, and came back to dine at the usual hour, + telling his servants all that was supposed to have happened during his + walk. + </p> + <p> + He slept, however, that night; he slept with a heavy, brutish sleep like + the sleep of certain persons condemned to death. He did not open his eyes + until the first glimmer of dawn, and he waited till his usual hour for + riding, so as to excite no suspicion. + </p> + <p> + Then he had to be present at the inquiry as to the cause of death. He did + so like a somnambulist, in a kind of vision which showed him men and + things as in a dream, in a cloud of intoxication, with that sense of + unreality which perplexes the mind at the time of the greatest + catastrophes. + </p> + <p> + But the agonized cry of Mother Roque pierced his heart. At that moment he + had felt inclined to cast himself at the old woman's feet and to exclaim: + </p> + <p> + “I am the guilty one!” + </p> + <p> + But he had restrained himself. He went back, however, during the night to + fish up the dead girl's wooden shoes, in order to place them on her + mother's threshold. + </p> + <p> + As long as the inquiry lasted, as long as it was necessary to lead justice + astray he was calm, master of himself, crafty and smiling. He discussed + quietly with the magistrates all the suppositions that passed through + their minds, combated their opinions and demolished their arguments. He + even took a keen and mournful pleasure in disturbing their investigations, + in embroiling their ideas, in showing the innocence of those whom they + suspected. + </p> + <p> + But as soon as the inquiry was abandoned he became gradually nervous, more + excitable than he had been before, although he mastered his irritability. + Sudden noises made him start with fear; he shuddered at the slightest + thing and trembled sometimes from head to foot when a fly alighted on his + forehead. Then he was seized with an imperious desire for motion, which + impelled him to take long walks and to remain up whole nights pacing up + and down his room. + </p> + <p> + It was not that he was goaded by remorse. His brutal nature did not lend + itself to any shade of sentiment or of moral terror. A man of energy and + even of violence, born to make war, to ravage conquered countries and to + massacre the vanquished, full of the savage instincts of the hunter and + the fighter, he scarcely took count of human life. Though he respected the + Church outwardly, from policy, he believed neither in God nor the devil, + expecting neither chastisement nor recompense for his acts in another + life. His sole belief was a vague philosophy drawn from all the ideas of + the encyclopedists of the last century, and he regarded religion as a + moral sanction of the law, the one and the other having been invented by + men to regulate social relations. To kill any one in a duel, or in war, or + in a quarrel, or by accident, or for the sake of revenge, or even through + bravado would have seemed to him an amusing and clever thing and would not + have left more impression on his mind than a shot fired at a hare; but he + had experienced a profound emotion at the murder of this child. He had, in + the first place, perpetrated it in the heat of an irresistible gust of + passion, in a sort of tempest of the senses that had overpowered his + reason. And he had cherished in his heart, in his flesh, on his lips, even + to the very tips of his murderous fingers a kind of bestial love, as well + as a feeling of terrified horror, toward this little girl surprised by him + and basely killed. Every moment his thoughts returned to that horrible + scene, and, though he endeavored to drive this picture from his mind, + though he put it aside with terror, with disgust, he felt it surging + through his soul, moving about in him, waiting incessantly for the moment + to reappear. + </p> + <p> + Then, as evening approached, he was afraid of the shadow falling around + him. He did not yet know why the darkness seemed frightful to him, but he + instinctively feared it, he felt that it was peopled with terrors. The + bright daylight did not lend itself to fears. Things and beings were + visible then, and only natural things and beings could exhibit themselves + in the light of day. But the night, the impenetrable night, thicker than + walls and empty; the infinite night, so black, so vast, in which one might + brush against frightful things; the night, when one feels that a + mysterious terror is wandering, prowling about, appeared to him to conceal + an unknown threatening danger, close beside him. + </p> + <p> + What was it? + </p> + <p> + He knew ere long. As he sat in his armchair, rather late one evening when + he could not sleep, he thought he saw the curtain of his window move. He + waited, uneasily, with beating heart. The drapery did not stir; then, all + of a sudden, it moved once more. He did not venture to rise; he no longer + ventured to breathe, and yet he was brave. He had often fought, and he + would have liked to catch thieves in his house. + </p> + <p> + Was it true that this curtain did move? he asked himself, fearing that his + eyes had deceived him. It was, moreover, such a slight thing, a gentle + flutter of drapery, a kind of trembling in its folds, less than an + undulation caused by the wind. + </p> + <p> + Renardet sat still, with staring eyes and outstretched neck. He sprang to + his feet abruptly, ashamed of his fear, took four steps, seized the + drapery with both hands and pulled it wide apart. At first he saw nothing + but darkened glass, resembling plates of glittering ink. The night, the + vast, impenetrable night, stretched beyond as far as the invisible + horizon. He remained standing in front of this illimitable shadow, and + suddenly he perceived a light, a moving light, which seemed some distance + away. + </p> + <p> + Then he put his face close to the window pane, thinking that a person + looking for crabs might be poaching in the Brindille, for it was past + midnight, and this light rose up at the edge of the stream, under the + trees. As he was not yet able to see clearly, Renardet placed his hands + over his eyes, and suddenly this light became an illumination, and he + beheld little Louise Roque naked and bleeding on the moss. He recoiled, + frozen with horror, knocked over his chair and fell over on his back. He + remained there some minutes in anguish of mind; then he sat up and began + to reflect. He had had a hallucination—that was all, a hallucination + due to the fact that a night marauder was walking with a lantern in his + hand near the water's edge. What was there astonishing, besides, in the + circumstance that the recollection of his crime should sometimes bring + before him the vision of the dead girl? + </p> + <p> + He rose from the ground, swallowed a glass of wine and sat down again. He + was thinking: + </p> + <p> + “What am I to do if this occurs again?” + </p> + <p> + And it would occur; he felt it; he was sure of it. Already his glance was + drawn toward the window; it called him; it attracted him. In order to + avoid looking at it, he turned his chair round. Then he took a book and + tried to read, but it seemed to him that he presently heard something + stirring behind him, and he swung round his armchair on one foot. + </p> + <p> + The curtain was moving again; unquestionably, it moved this time. He could + no longer have any doubt about it. + </p> + <p> + He rushed forward and grasped it so violently that he pulled it down with + its pole. Then he eagerly glued his face to the glass. He saw nothing. All + was black outside, and he breathed with the joy of a man whose life has + just been saved. + </p> + <p> + Then he went back to his chair and sat down again, but almost immediately + he felt a longing to look out once more through the window. Since the + curtain had fallen down, the window made a sort of gap, fascinating and + terrible, on the dark landscape. In order not to yield to this dangerous + temptation, he undressed, blew out the light and closed his eyes. + </p> + <p> + Lying on his back motionless, his skin warm and moist, he awaited sleep. + Suddenly a great gleam of light flashed across his eyelids. He opened + them, believing that his dwelling was on fire. All was black as before, + and he leaned on his elbow to try to distinguish the window which had + still for him an unconquerable attraction. By dint of, straining his eyes + he could perceive some stars, and he rose, groped his way across the room, + discovered the panes with his outstretched hands, and placed his forehead + close to them. There below, under the trees, lay the body of the little + girl gleaming like phosphorus, lighting up the surrounding darkness. + </p> + <p> + Renardet uttered a cry and rushed toward his bed, where he lay till + morning, his head hidden under the pillow. + </p> + <p> + From that moment his life became intolerable. He passed his days in + apprehension of each succeeding night, and each night the vision came back + again. As soon as he had locked himself up in his room he strove to resist + it, but in vain. An irresistible force lifted him up and pushed him + against the window, as if to call the phantom, and he saw it at once, + lying first in the spot where the crime was committed in the position in + which it had been found. + </p> + <p> + Then the dead girl rose up and came toward him with little steps just as + the child had done when she came out of the river. She advanced quietly, + passing straight across the grass and over the bed of withered flowers. + Then she rose up in the air toward Renardet's window. She came toward him + as she had come on the day of the crime. And the man recoiled before the + apparition—he retreated to his bed and sank down upon it, knowing + well that the little one had entered the room and that she now was + standing behind the curtain, which presently moved. And until daybreak he + kept staring at this curtain with a fixed glance, ever waiting to see his + victim depart. + </p> + <p> + But she did not show herself any more; she remained there behind the + curtain, which quivered tremulously now and then. + </p> + <p> + And Renardet, his fingers clutching the clothes, squeezed them as he had + squeezed the throat of little Louise Roque. + </p> + <p> + He heard the clock striking the hours, and in the stillness the pendulum + kept ticking in time with the loud beating of his heart. And he suffered, + the wretched man, more than any man had ever suffered before. + </p> + <p> + Then, as soon as a white streak of light on the ceiling announced the + approaching day, he felt himself free, alone at last, alone in his room; + and he went to sleep. He slept several hours—a restless, feverish + sleep in which he retraced in dreams the horrible vision of the past + night. + </p> + <p> + When he went down to the late breakfast he felt exhausted as after unusual + exertion, and he scarcely ate anything, still haunted as he was by the + fear of what he had seen the night before. + </p> + <p> + He knew well, however, that it was not an apparition, that the dead do not + come back, and that his sick soul, his soul possessed by one thought + alone, by an indelible remembrance, was the only cause of his torture, was + what brought the dead girl back to life and raised her form before his + eyes, on which it was ineffaceably imprinted. But he knew, too, that there + was no cure, that he would never escape from the savage persecution of his + memory, and he resolved to die rather than to endure these tortures any + longer. + </p> + <p> + Then he thought of how he would kill himself, It must be something simple + and natural, which would preclude the idea of suicide. For he clung to his + reputation, to the name bequeathed to him by his ancestors; and if his + death awakened any suspicion people's thoughts might be, perhaps, directed + toward the mysterious crime, toward the murderer who could not be found, + and they would not hesitate to accuse him of the crime. + </p> + <p> + A strange idea came into his head, that of allowing himself to be crushed + by the tree at the foot of which he had assassinated little Louise Roque. + So he determined to have the wood cut down and to simulate an accident. + But the beech tree refused to crush his ribs. + </p> + <p> + Returning to his house, a prey to utter despair, he had snatched up his + revolver, and then did not dare to fire it. + </p> + <p> + The dinner bell summoned him. He could eat nothing, and he went upstairs + again. And he did not know what to do. Now that he had escaped the first + time, he felt himself a coward. Presently he would be ready, brave, + decided, master of his courage and of his resolution; now he was weak and + feared death as much as he did the dead girl. + </p> + <p> + He faltered: + </p> + <p> + “I dare not venture it again—I dare not venture it.” + </p> + <p> + Then he glanced with terror, first at the revolver on the table and next + at the curtain which hid his window. It seemed to him, moreover, that + something horrible would occur as soon as his life was ended. Something? + What? A meeting with her, perhaps. She was watching for him; she was + waiting for him; she was calling him; and it was in order to seize him in + her turn, to draw him toward the doom that would avenge her, and to lead + him to die, that she appeared thus every night. + </p> + <p> + He began to cry like a child, repeating: + </p> + <p> + “I will not venture it again—I will not venture it.” + </p> + <p> + Then he fell on his knees and murmured: + </p> + <p> + “My God! my God!” without believing, nevertheless, in God. And + he no longer dared, in fact, to look at his window, where he knew the + apparition was hiding, nor at his table, where his revolver gleamed. When + he had risen up he said: + </p> + <p> + “This cannot last; there must be an end of it” + </p> + <p> + The sound of his voice in the silent room made a chill of fear pass + through his limbs, but as he could not bring himself to come to a + determination, as he felt certain that his finger would always refuse to + pull the trigger of his revolver, he turned round to hide his head under + the bedclothes and began to reflect. + </p> + <p> + He would have to find some way in which he could force himself to die, to + play some trick on himself which would not permit of any hesitation on his + part, any delay, any possible regrets. He envied condemned criminals who + are led to the scaffold surrounded by soldiers. Oh! if he could only beg + of some one to shoot him; if after confessing his crime to a true friend + who would never divulge it he could procure death at his hand. But from + whom could he ask this terrible service? From whom? He thought of all the + people he knew. The doctor? No, he would talk about it afterward, most + probably. And suddenly a fantastic idea entered his mind. He would write + to the magistrate, who was on terms of close friendship with him, and + would denounce himself as the perpetrator of the crime. He would in this + letter confess everything, revealing how his soul had been tortured, how + he had resolved to die, how he had hesitated about carrying out his + resolution and what means he had employed to strengthen his failing + courage. And in the name of their old friendship he would implore of the + other to destroy the letter as soon as he had ascertained that the culprit + had inflicted justice on himself. Renardet could rely on this magistrate; + he knew him to be true, discreet, incapable of even an idle word. He was + one of those men who have an inflexible conscience, governed, directed, + regulated by their reason alone. + </p> + <p> + Scarcely had he formed this project when a strange feeling of joy took + possession of his heart. He was calm now. He would write his letter + slowly, then at daybreak he would deposit it in the box nailed to the + outside wall of his office; then he would ascend his tower to watch for + the postman's arrival; and when the man in the blue blouse had gone away, + he would cast himself head foremost on the rocks on which the foundations + rested, He would take care to be seen first by the workmen who had cut + down his wood. He could climb to the projecting stone which bore the + flagstaff displayed on festivals, He would smash this pole with a shake + and carry it along with him as he fell. + </p> + <p> + Who would suspect that it was not an accident? And he would be killed + outright, owing to his weight and the height of the tower. + </p> + <p> + Presently he got out of bed, went over to the table and began to write. He + omitted nothing, not a single detail of the crime, not a single detail of + the torments of his heart, and he ended by announcing that he had passed + sentence on himself, that he was going to execute the criminal, and begged + his friend, his old friend, to be careful that there should never be any + stain on his memory. + </p> + <p> + When he had finished this letter he saw that the day had dawned. + </p> + <p> + He closed, sealed it and wrote the address. Then he descended with light + steps, hurried toward the little white box fastened to the outside wall in + the corner of the farmhouse, and when he had thrown into it this letter, + which made his hand tremble, he came back quickly, drew the bolts of the + great door and climbed up to his tower to wait for the passing of the + postman, who was to bear away his death sentence. + </p> + <p> + He felt self-possessed now. Liberated! Saved! + </p> + <p> + A cold dry wind, an icy wind passed across his face. He inhaled it eagerly + with open mouth, drinking in its chilling kiss. The sky was red, a wintry + red, and all the plain, whitened with frost, glistened under the first + rays of the sun, as if it were covered with powdered glass. + </p> + <p> + Renardet, standing up, his head bare, gazed at the vast tract of country + before him, the meadows to the left and to the right the village whose + chimneys were beginning to smoke in preparation for the morning meal. At + his feet he saw the Brindille flowing amid the rocks, where he would soon + be crushed to death. He felt new life on that beautiful frosty morning. + The light bathed him, entered his being like a new-born hope. A thousand + recollections assailed him, recollections of similar mornings, of rapid + walks on the hard earth which rang beneath his footsteps, of happy days of + shooting on the edges of pools where wild ducks sleep. All the good things + that he loved, the good things of existence, rushed to his memory, + penetrated him with fresh desires, awakened all the vigorous appetites of + his active, powerful body. + </p> + <p> + And he was about to die! Why? He was going to kill himself stupidly + because he was afraid of a shadow-afraid of nothing! He was still rich and + in the prime of life. What folly! All he needed was distraction, absence, + a voyage in order to forget. + </p> + <p> + This night even he had not seen the little girl because his mind was + preoccupied and had wandered toward some other subject. Perhaps he would + not see her any more? And even if she still haunted him in this house, + certainly she would not follow him elsewhere! The earth was wide, the + future was long. + </p> + <p> + Why should he die? + </p> + <p> + His glance travelled across the meadows, and he perceived a blue spot in + the path which wound alongside the Brindille. It was Mederic coming to + bring letters from the town and to carry away those of the village. + </p> + <p> + Renardet gave a start, a sensation of pain shot through his breast, and he + rushed down the winding staircase to get back his letter, to demand it + back from the postman. Little did it matter to him now whether he was + seen, He hurried across the grass damp from the light frost of the + previous night and arrived in front of the box in the corner of the + farmhouse exactly at the same time as the letter carrier. + </p> + <p> + The latter had opened the little wooden door and drew forth the four + papers deposited there by the inhabitants of the locality. + </p> + <p> + Renardet said to him: + </p> + <p> + “Good-morrow, Mederic.” + </p> + <p> + “Good-morrow, Monsieur le Maire.” + </p> + <p> + “I say, Mederic, I threw a letter into the box that I want back + again. I came to ask you to give it back to me.” + </p> + <p> + “That's all right, Monsieur le Maire—you'll get it.” + </p> + <p> + And the postman raised his eyes. He stood petrified at the sight of + Renardet's face. The mayor's cheeks were purple, his eyes were anxious and + sunken, with black circles round them, his hair was unbrushed, his beard + untrimmed, his necktie unfastened. It was evident that he had not been in + bed. + </p> + <p> + The postman asked: + </p> + <p> + “Are you ill, Monsieur le Maire?” + </p> + <p> + The other, suddenly comprehending that his appearance must be unusual, + lost countenance and faltered: + </p> + <p> + “Oh! no-oh! no. Only I jumped out of bed to ask you for this letter. + I was asleep. You understand?” + </p> + <p> + He said in reply: + </p> + <p> + “What letter?” + </p> + <p> + “The one you are going to give back to me.” + </p> + <p> + Mederic now began to hesitate. The mayor's attitude did not strike him as + natural. There was perhaps a secret in that letter, a political secret. He + knew Renardet was not a Republican, and he knew all the tricks and + chicanery employed at elections. + </p> + <p> + He asked: + </p> + <p> + “To whom is it addressed, this letter of yours?” + </p> + <p> + “To Monsieur Putoin, the magistrate—you know, my friend, + Monsieur Putoin!” + </p> + <p> + The postman searched through the papers and found the one asked for. Then + he began looking at it, turning it round and round between his fingers, + much perplexed, much troubled by the fear of either committing a grave + offence or of making an enemy of the mayor. + </p> + <p> + Seeing his hesitation, Renardet made a movement for the purpose of seizing + the letter and snatching it away from him. This abrupt action convinced + Mederic that some important secret was at stake and made him resolve to do + his duty, cost what it may. + </p> + <p> + So he flung the letter into his bag and fastened it up, with the reply: + </p> + <p> + “No, I can't, Monsieur le Maire. As long as it is for the + magistrate, I can't.” + </p> + <p> + A dreadful pang wrung Renardet's heart and he murmured: + </p> + <p> + “Why, you know me well. You are even able to recognize my + handwriting. I tell you I want that paper.” + </p> + <p> + “I can't.” + </p> + <p> + “Look here, Mederic, you know that I'm incapable of deceiving you—I + tell you I want it.” + </p> + <p> + “No, I can't.” + </p> + <p> + A tremor of rage passed through Renardet's soul. + </p> + <p> + “Damn it all, take care! You know that I never trifle and that I + could get you out of your job, my good fellow, and without much delay, + either, And then, I am the mayor of the district, after all; and I now + order you to give me back that paper.” + </p> + <p> + The postman answered firmly: + </p> + <p> + “No, I can't, Monsieur le Maire.” + </p> + <p> + Thereupon Renardet, losing his head, caught hold of the postman's arms in + order to take away his bag; but, freeing himself by a strong effort, and + springing backward, the letter carrier raised his big holly stick. Without + losing his temper, he said emphatically: + </p> + <p> + “Don't touch me, Monsieur le Maire, or I'll strike. Take care, I'm + only doing my duty!” + </p> + <p> + Feeling that he was lost, Renardet suddenly became humble, gentle, + appealing to him like a whimpering child: + </p> + <p> + “Look here, look here, my friend, give me back that letter and I'll + recompense you—I'll give you money. Stop! stop! I'll give you a + hundred francs, you understand—a hundred francs!” + </p> + <p> + The postman turned on his heel and started on his journey. + </p> + <p> + Renardet followed him, out of breath, stammering: + </p> + <p> + “Mederic, Mederic, listen! I'll give you a thousand francs, you + understand—a thousand francs.” + </p> + <p> + The postman still went on without giving any answer. + </p> + <p> + Renardet went on: + </p> + <p> + “I'll make your fortune, you understand—whatever you wish—fifty + thousand francs—fifty thousand francs for that letter! What does it + matter to you? You won't? Well, a hundred thousand—I say—a + hundred thousand francs. Do you understand? A hundred thousand francs—a + hundred thousand francs.” + </p> + <p> + The postman turned back, his face hard, his eye severe: + </p> + <p> + “Enough of this, or else I'll repeat to the magistrate everything + you have just said to me.” + </p> + <p> + Renardet stopped abruptly. It was all over. He turned back and rushed + toward his house, running like a hunted animal. + </p> + <p> + Then, in his turn, Mederic stopped and watched his flight with + stupefaction. He saw the mayor reenter his house, and he waited still, as + if something astonishing were about to happen. + </p> + <p> + In fact, presently the tall form of Renardet appeared on the summit of the + Fox's tower. He ran round the platform like a madman. Then he seized the + flagstaff and shook it furiously without succeeding in breaking it; then, + all of a sudden, like a diver, with his two hands before him, he plunged + into space. + </p> + <p> + Mederic rushed forward to his assistance. He saw the woodcutters going to + work and called out to them, telling them an accident had occurred. At the + foot of the walls they found a bleeding body, its head crushed on a rock. + The Brindille surrounded this rock, and over its clear, calm waters could + be seen a long red thread of mingled brains and blood. + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0032"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + THE DONKEY + </h2> + <p> + There was not a breath of air stirring; a heavy mist was lying over the + river. It was like a layer of cotton placed on the water. The banks + themselves were indistinct, hidden behind strange fogs. But day was + breaking and the hill was becoming visible. In the dawning light of day + the plaster houses began to appear like white spots. Cocks were crowing in + the barnyard. + </p> + <p> + On the other side of the river, hidden behind the fogs, just opposite + Frette, a slight noise from time to time broke the dead silence of the + quiet morning. At times it was an indistinct plashing, like the cautious + advance of a boat, then again a sharp noise like the rattle of an oar and + then the sound of something dropping in the water. Then silence. + </p> + <p> + Sometimes whispered words, coming perhaps from a distance, perhaps from + quite near, pierced through these opaque mists. They passed by like wild + birds which have slept in the rushes and which fly away at the first light + of day, crossing the mist and uttering a low and timid sound which wakes + their brothers along the shores. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly along the bank, near the village, a barely perceptible shadow + appeared on the water. Then it grew, became more distinct and, coming out + of the foggy curtain which hung over the river, a flatboat, manned by two + men, pushed up on the grass. + </p> + <p> + The one who was rowing rose and took a pailful of fish from the bottom of + the boat, then he threw the dripping net over his shoulder. His companion, + who had not made a motion, exclaimed: “Say, Mailloche, get your gun + and see if we can't land some rabbit along the shore.” + </p> + <p> + The other one answered: “All right. I'll be with you in a minute.” + Then he disappeared, in order to hide their catch. + </p> + <p> + The man who had stayed in the boat slowly filled his pipe and lighted it. + His name was Labouise, but he was called Chicot, and was in partnership + with Maillochon, commonly called Mailloche, to practice the doubtful and + undefined profession of junk-gatherers along the shore. + </p> + <p> + They were a low order of sailors and they navigated regularly only in the + months of famine. The rest of the time they acted as junk-gatherers. + Rowing about on the river day and night, watching for any prey, dead or + alive, poachers on the water and nocturnal hunters, sometimes ambushing + venison in the Saint-Germain forests, sometimes looking for drowned people + and searching their clothes, picking up floating rags and empty bottles; + thus did Labouise and Maillochon live easily. + </p> + <p> + At times they would set out on foot about noon and stroll along straight + ahead. They would dine in some inn on the shore and leave again side by + side. They would remain away for a couple of days; then one morning they + would be seen rowing about in the tub which they called their boat. + </p> + <p> + At Joinville or at Nogent some boatman would be looking for his boat, + which had disappeared one night, probably stolen, while twenty or thirty + miles from there, on the Oise, some shopkeeper would be rubbing his hands, + congratulating himself on the bargain he had made when he bought a boat + the day before for fifty francs, which two men offered him as they were + passing. + </p> + <p> + Maillochon reappeared with his gun wrapped up in rags. He was a man of + forty or fifty, tall and thin, with the restless eye of people who are + worried by legitimate troubles and of hunted animals. His open shirt + showed his hairy chest, but he seemed never to have had any more hair on + his face than a short brush of a mustache and a few stiff hairs under his + lower lip. He was bald around the temples. When he took off the dirty cap + that he wore his scalp seemed to be covered with a fluffy down, like the + body of a plucked chicken. + </p> + <p> + Chicot, on the contrary, was red, fat, short and hairy. He looked like a + raw beefsteak. He continually kept his left eye closed, as if he were + aiming at something or at somebody, and when people jokingly cried to him, + “Open your eye, Labouise!” he would answer quietly: “Never + fear, sister, I open it when there's cause to.” + </p> + <p> + He had a habit of calling every one “sister,” even his + scavenger companion. + </p> + <p> + He took up the oars again, and once more the boat disappeared in the heavy + mist, which was now turned snowy white in the pink-tinted sky. + </p> + <p> + “What kind of lead did you take, Maillochon?” Labouise asked. + </p> + <p> + “Very small, number nine; that's the best for rabbits.” + </p> + <p> + They were approaching the other shore so slowly, so quietly that no noise + betrayed them. This bank belongs to the Saint-Germain forest and is the + boundary line for rabbit hunting. It is covered with burrows hidden under + the roots of trees, and the creatures at daybreak frisk about, running in + and out of the holes. + </p> + <p> + Maillochon was kneeling in the bow, watching, his gun hidden on the floor. + Suddenly he seized it, aimed, and the report echoed for some time + throughout the quiet country. + </p> + <p> + Labouise, in a few strokes, touched the beach, and his companion, jumping + to the ground, picked up a little gray rabbit, not yet dead. + </p> + <p> + Then the boat once more disappeared into the fog in order to get to the + other side, where it could keep away from the game wardens. + </p> + <p> + The two men seemed to be riding easily on the water. The weapon had + disappeared under the board which served as a hiding place and the rabbit + was stuffed into Chicot's loose shirt. + </p> + <p> + After about a quarter of an hour Labouise asked: “Well, sister, + shall we get one more?” + </p> + <p> + “It will suit me,” Maillochon answered. + </p> + <p> + The boat started swiftly down the current. The mist, which was hiding both + shores, was beginning to rise. The trees could be barely perceived, as + through a veil, and the little clouds of fog were floating up from the + water. When they drew near the island, the end of which is opposite + Herblay, the two men slackened their pace and began to watch. Soon a + second rabbit was killed. + </p> + <p> + Then they went down until they were half way to Conflans. Here they + stopped their boat, tied it to a tree and went to sleep in the bottom of + it. + </p> + <p> + From time to time Labouise would sit up and look over the horizon with his + open eye. The last of the morning mist had disappeared and the large + summer sun was climbing in the blue sky. + </p> + <p> + On the other side of the river the vineyard-covered hill stretched out in + a semicircle. One house stood out alone at the summit. Everything was + silent. + </p> + <p> + Something was moving slowly along the tow-path, advancing with difficulty. + It was a woman dragging a donkey. The stubborn, stiff-jointed beast + occasionally stretched out a leg in answer to its companion's efforts, and + it proceeded thus, with outstretched neck and ears lying flat, so slowly + that one could not tell when it would ever be out of sight. + </p> + <p> + The woman, bent double, was pulling, turning round occasionally to strike + the donkey with a stick. + </p> + <p> + As soon as he saw her, Labouise exclaimed: “Say, Mailloche!” + </p> + <p> + Mailloche answered: “What's the matter?” + </p> + <p> + “Want to have some fun?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course!” + </p> + <p> + “Then hurry, sister; we're going to have a laugh.” + </p> + <p> + Chicot took the oars. When he had crossed the river he stopped opposite + the woman and called: + </p> + <p> + “Hey, sister!” + </p> + <p> + The woman stopped dragging her donkey and looked. + </p> + <p> + Labouise continued: “What are you doing—going to the + locomotive show?” + </p> + <p> + The woman made no reply. Chicot continued: + </p> + <p> + “Say, your trotter's prime for a race. Where are you taking him at + that speed?” + </p> + <p> + At last the woman answered: “I'm going to Macquart, at Champioux, to + have him killed. He's worthless.” + </p> + <p> + Labouise answered: “You're right. How much do you think Macquart + will give you for him?” + </p> + <p> + The woman wiped her forehead on the back of her hand and hesitated, + saying: “How do I know? Perhaps three francs, perhaps four.” + </p> + <p> + Chicot exclaimed: “I'll give you five francs and your errand's done! + How's that?” + </p> + <p> + The woman considered the matter for a second and then exclaimed: “Done!” + </p> + <p> + The two men landed. Labouise grasped the animal by the bridle. Maillochon + asked in surprise: + </p> + <p> + “What do you expect to do with that carcass?” + </p> + <p> + Chicot this time opened his other eye in order to express his gaiety. His + whole red face was grinning with joy. He chuckled: “Don't worry, + sister. I've got my idea.” + </p> + <p> + He gave five francs to the woman, who then sat down by the road to see + what was going to happen. Then Labouise, in great humor, got the gun and + held it out to Maillochon, saying: “Each one in turn; we're going + after big game, sister. Don't get so near or you'll kill it right away! + You must make the pleasure last a little.” + </p> + <p> + He placed his companion about forty paces from the victim. The ass, + feeling itself free, was trying to get a little of the tall grass, but it + was so exhausted that it swayed on its legs as if it were about to fall. + </p> + <p> + Maillochon aimed slowly and said: “A little pepper for the ears; + watch, Ghicot!” And he fired. + </p> + <p> + The tiny shot struck the donkey's long ears and he began to shake them in + order to get rid of the stinging sensation. The two men were doubled up + with laughter and stamped their feet with joy. The woman, indignant, + rushed forward; she did not want her donkey to be tortured, and she + offered to return the five francs. Labouise threatened her with a + thrashing and pretended to roll up his sleeves. He had paid, hadn't he? + Well, then, he would take a shot at her skirts, just to show that it + didn't hurt. She went away, threatening to call the police. They could + hear her protesting indignantly and cursing as she went her way. + </p> + <p> + Maillochon held out the gun to his comrade, saying: “It's your turn, + Chicot.” + </p> + <p> + Labouise aimed and fired. The donkey received the charge in his thighs, + but the shot was so small and came from such a distance that he thought he + was being stung by flies, for he began to thrash himself with his tail. + </p> + <p> + Labouise sat down to laugh more comfortably, while Maillochon reloaded the + weapon, so happy that he seemed to sneeze into the barrel. He stepped + forward a few paces, and, aiming at the same place that his friend had + shot at, he fired again. This time the beast started, tried to kick and + turned its head. At last a little blood was running. It had been wounded + and felt a sharp pain, for it tried to run away with a slow, limping, + jerky gallop. + </p> + <p> + Both men darted after the beast, Maillochon with a long stride, Labouise + with the short, breathless trot of a little man. But the donkey, tired + out, had stopped, and, with a bewildered look, was watching his two + murderers approach. Suddenly he stretched his neck and began to bray. + </p> + <p> + Labouise, out of breath, had taken the gun. This time he walked right up + close, as he did not wish to begin the chase over again. + </p> + <p> + When the poor beast had finished its mournful cry, like a last call for + help, the man called: “Hey, Mailloche! Come here, sister; I'm going + to give him some medicine.” And while the other man was forcing the + animal's mouth open, Chicot stuck the barrel of his gun down its throat, + as if he were trying to make it drink a potion. Then he said: “Look + out, sister, here she goes!” + </p> + <p> + He pressed the trigger. The donkey stumbled back a few steps, fell down, + tried to get up again and finally lay on its side and closed its eyes: The + whole body was trembling, its legs were kicking as if it were, trying to + run. A stream of blood was oozing through its teeth. Soon it stopped + moving. It was dead. + </p> + <p> + The two men went along, laughing. It was over too quickly; they had not + had their money's worth. Maillochon asked: “Well, what are we going + to do now?” + </p> + <p> + Labouise answered: “Don't worry, sister. Get the thing on the boat; + we're going to have some fun when night comes.” + </p> + <p> + They went and got the boat. The animal's body was placed on the bottom, + covered with fresh grass, and the two men stretched out on it and went to + sleep. + </p> + <p> + Toward noon Labouise drew a bottle of wine, some bread and butter and raw + onions from a hiding place in their muddy, worm-eaten boat, and they began + to eat. + </p> + <p> + When the meal was over they once more stretched out on the dead donkey and + slept. At nightfall Labouise awoke and shook his comrade, who was snoring + like a buzzsaw. “Come on, sister,” he ordered. + </p> + <p> + Maillochon began to row. As they had plenty of time they went up the Seine + slowly. They coasted along the reaches covered with water-lilies, and the + heavy, mud-covered boat slipped over the lily pads and bent the flowers, + which stood up again as soon as they had passed. + </p> + <p> + When they reached the wall of the Eperon, which separates the + Saint-Germain forest from the Maisons-Laffitte Park, Labouise stopped his + companion and explained his idea to him. Maillochon was moved by a + prolonged, silent laugh. + </p> + <p> + They threw into the water the grass which had covered the body, took the + animal by the feet and hid it behind some bushes. Then they got into their + boat again and went to Maisons-Laffitte. + </p> + <p> + The night was perfectly black when they reached the wine shop of old man + Jules. As soon as the dealer saw them he came up, shook hands with them + and sat down at their table. They began to talk of one thing and another. + By eleven o'clock the last customer had left and old man Jules winked at + Labouise and asked: “Well, have you got any?” + </p> + <p> + Labouise made a motion with his head and answered: “Perhaps so, + perhaps not!” + </p> + <p> + The dealer insisted: “Perhaps you've not nothing but gray ones?” + </p> + <p> + Chicot dug his hands into his flannel shirt, drew out the ears of a rabbit + and declared: “Three francs a pair!” + </p> + <p> + Then began a long discussion about the price. Two francs sixty-five and + the two rabbits were delivered. As the two men were getting up to go, old + man Jules, who had been watching them, exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “You have something else, but you won't say what.” + </p> + <p> + Labouise answered: “Possibly, but it is not for you; you're too + stingy.” + </p> + <p> + The man, growing eager, kept asking: “What is it? Something big? + Perhaps we might make a deal.” + </p> + <p> + Labouise, who seemed perplexed, pretended to consult Maillochon with a + glance. Then he answered in a slow voice: “This is how it is. We + were in the bushes at Eperon when something passed right near us, to the + left, at the end of the wall. Mailloche takes a shot and it drops. We + skipped on account of the game people. I can't tell you what it is, + because I don't know. But it's big enough. But what is it? If I told you + I'd be lying, and you know, sister, between us everything's above-board.” + </p> + <p> + Anxiously the man asked: “Think it's venison?” + </p> + <p> + Labouise answered: “Might be and then again it might not! Venison?—uh! + uh!—might be a little big for that! Mind you, I don't say it's a + doe, because I don't know, but it might be.” + </p> + <p> + Still the dealer insisted: “Perhaps it's a buck?” + </p> + <p> + Labouise stretched out his hand, exclaiming: “No, it's not that! + It's not a buck. I should have seen the horns. No, it's not a buck!” + </p> + <p> + “Why didn't you bring it with you?” asked the man. + </p> + <p> + “Because, sister, from now on I sell from where I stand. Plenty of + people will buy. All you have to do is to take a walk over there, find the + thing and take it. No risk for me.” + </p> + <p> + The innkeeper, growing suspicious, exclaimed “Supposing he wasn't + there!” + </p> + <p> + Labouise once more raised his hand and said: + </p> + <p> + “He's there, I swear!—first bush to the left. What it is, I + don't know. But it's not a buck, I'm positive. It's for you to find out + what it is. Twenty-five francs, cash down!” + </p> + <p> + Still the man hesitated: “Couldn't you bring it?” + </p> + <p> + Maillochon exclaimed: “No, indeed! You know our price! Take it or + leave it!” + </p> + <p> + The dealer decided: “It's a bargain for twenty francs!” + </p> + <p> + And they shook hands over the deal. + </p> + <p> + Then he took out four big five-franc pieces from the cash drawer, and the + two friends pocketed the money. Labouise arose, emptied his glass and + left. As he was disappearing in the shadows he turned round to exclaim: + “It isn't a buck. I don't know what it is!—but it's there. + I'll give you back your money if you find nothing!” + </p> + <p> + And he disappeared in the darkness. Maillochon, who was following him, + kept punching him in the back to express his joy. + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0033"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + MOIRON + </h2> + <p> + As we were still talking about Pranzini, M. Maloureau, who had been + attorney general under the Empire, said: “Oh! I formerly knew a very + curious affair, curious for several reasons, as you will see. + </p> + <p> + “I was at that time imperial attorney in one of the provinces. I had + to take up the case which has remained famous under the name of the Moiron + case. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur Moiron, who was a teacher in the north of France, enjoyed + an excellent reputation throughout the whole country. He was a person of + intelligence, quiet, very religious, a little taciturn; he had married in + the district of Boislinot, where he exercised his profession. He had had + three children, who had died of consumption, one after the other. From + this time he seemed to bestow upon the youngsters confided to his care all + the tenderness of his heart. With his own money he bought toys for his + best scholars and for the good boys; he gave them little dinners and + stuffed them with delicacies, candy and cakes: Everybody loved this good + man with his big heart, when suddenly five of his pupils died, in a + strange manner, one after the other. It was supposed that there was an + epidemic due to the condition of the water, resulting from drought; they + looked for the causes without being able to discover them, the more so + that the symptoms were so peculiar. The children seemed to be attacked by + a feeling of lassitude; they would not eat, they complained of pains in + their stomachs, dragged along for a short time, and died in frightful + suffering. + </p> + <p> + “A post-mortem examination was held over the last one, but nothing + was discovered. The vitals were sent to Paris and analyzed, and they + revealed the presence of no toxic substance. + </p> + <p> + “For a year nothing new developed; then two little boys, the best + scholars in the class, Moiron's favorites, died within four days of each + other. An examination of the bodies was again ordered, and in both of them + were discovered tiny fragments of crushed glass. The conclusion arrived at + was that the two youngsters must imprudently have eaten from some + carelessly cleaned receptacle. A glass broken over a pail of milk could + have produced this frightful accident, and the affair would have been + pushed no further if Moiron's servant had not been taken sick at this + time. The physician who was called in noticed the same symptoms he had + seen in the children. He questioned her and obtained the admission that + she had stolen and eaten some candies that had been bought by the teacher + for his scholars. + </p> + <p> + “On an order from the court the schoolhouse was searched, and a + closet was found which was full of toys and dainties destined for the + children. Almost all these delicacies contained bits of crushed glass or + pieces of broken needles! + </p> + <p> + “Moiron was immediately arrested; but he seemed so astonished and + indignant at the suspicion hanging over him that he was almost released. + How ever, indications of his guilt kept appearing, and baffled in my mind + my first conviction, based on his excellent reputation, on his whole life, + on the complete absence of any motive for such a crime. + </p> + <p> + “Why should this good, simple, religious man have killed little + children, and the very children whom he seemed to love the most, whom he + spoiled and stuffed with sweet things, for whom he spent half his salary + in buying toys and bonbons? + </p> + <p> + “One must consider him insane to believe him guilty of this act. + Now, Moiron seemed so normal, so quiet, so rational and sensible that it + seemed impossible to adjudge him insane. + </p> + <p> + “However, the proofs kept growing! In none of the candies that were + bought at the places where the schoolmaster secured his provisions could + the slightest trace of anything suspicious be found. + </p> + <p> + “He then insisted that an unknown enemy must have opened his + cupboard with a false key in order to introduce the glass and the needles + into the eatables. And he made up a whole story of an inheritance + dependent on the death of a child, determined on and sought by some + peasant, and promoted thus by casting suspicions on the schoolmaster. This + brute, he claimed, did not care about the other children who were forced + to die as well. + </p> + <p> + “The story was possible. The man appeared to be so sure of himself + and in such despair that we should undoubtedly have acquitted him, + notwithstanding the charges against him, if two crushing discoveries had + not been made, one after the other. + </p> + <p> + “The first one was a snuffbox full of crushed glass; his own + snuffbox, hidden in the desk where he kept his money! + </p> + <p> + “He explained this new find in an acceptable manner, as the ruse of + the real unknown criminal. But a mercer from Saint-Marlouf came to the + presiding judge and said that a gentleman had several times come to his + store to buy some needles; and he always asked for the thinnest needles he + could find, and would break them to see whether they pleased him. The man + was brought forward in the presence of a dozen or more persons, and + immediately recognized Moiron. The inquest revealed that the schoolmaster + had indeed gone into Saint-Marlouf on the days mentioned by the tradesman. + </p> + <p> + “I will pass over the terrible testimony of children on the choice + of dainties and the care which he took to have them eat the things in his + presence, and to remove the slightest traces. + </p> + <p> + “Public indignation demanded capital punishment, and it became more + and more insistent, overturning all objections. + </p> + <p> + “Moiron was condemned to death, and his appeal was rejected. Nothing + was left for him but the imperial pardon. I knew through my father that + the emperor would not grant it. + </p> + <p> + “One morning, as I was working in my study, the visit of the prison + almoner was announced. He was an old priest who knew men well and + understood the habits of criminals. He seemed troubled, ill at ease, + nervous. After talking for a few minutes about one thing and another, he + arose and said suddenly: 'If Moiron is executed, monsieur, you will have + put an innocent man to death.' + </p> + <p> + “Then he left without bowing, leaving me behind with the deep + impression made by his words. He had pronounced them in such a sincere and + solemn manner, opening those lips, closed and sealed by the secret of + confession, in order to save a life. + </p> + <p> + “An hour later I left for Paris, and my father immediately asked + that I be granted an audience with the emperor. + </p> + <p> + “The following day I was received. His majesty was working in a + little reception room when we were introduced. I described the whole case, + and I was just telling about the priest's visit when a door opened behind + the sovereign's chair and the empress, who supposed he was alone, + appeared. His majesty, Napoleon, consulted her. As soon as she had heard + the matter, she exclaimed: 'This man must be pardoned. He must, since he + is innocent.' + </p> + <p> + “Why did this sudden conviction of a religious woman cast a terrible + doubt in my mind? + </p> + <p> + “Until then I had ardently desired a change of sentence. And now I + suddenly felt myself the toy, the dupe of a cunning criminal who had + employed the priest and confession as a last means of defence. + </p> + <p> + “I explained my hesitancy to their majesties. The emperor remained + undecided, urged on one side by his natural kindness and held back on the + other by the fear of being deceived by a criminal; but the empress, who + was convinced that the priest had obeyed a divine inspiration, kept + repeating: 'Never mind! It is better to spare a criminal than to kill an + innocent man!' Her advice was taken. The death sentence was commuted to + one of hard labor. + </p> + <p> + “A few years later I heard that Moiron had again been called to the + emperor's attention on account of his exemplary conduct in the prison at + Toulon and was now employed as a servant by the director of the + penitentiary. + </p> + <p> + “For a long time I heard nothing more of this man. But about two + years ago, while I was spending a summer near Lille with my cousin, De + Larielle, I was informed one evening, just as we were sitting down to + dinner, that a young priest wished to speak to me. + </p> + <p> + “I had him shown in and he begged me to come to a dying man who + desired absolutely to see me. This had often happened to me in my long + career as a magistrate, and, although I had been set aside by the + Republic, I was still often called upon in similar circumstances. I + therefore followed the priest, who led me to a miserable little room in a + large tenement house. + </p> + <p> + “There I found a strange-looking man on a bed of straw, sitting with + his back against the wall, in order to get his breath. He was a sort of + skeleton, with dark, gleaming eyes. + </p> + <p> + “As soon as he saw me, he murmured: 'Don't you recognize me?' + </p> + <p> + “'No.' + </p> + <p> + “'I am Moiron.' + </p> + <p> + “I felt a shiver run through me, and I asked 'The schoolmaster?' + </p> + <p> + “'Yes.' + </p> + <p> + “'How do you happen to be here?' + </p> + <p> + “'The story is too long. I haven't time to tell it. I was going to + die —and that priest was brought to me—and as I knew that you + were here I sent for you. It is to you that I wish to confess—since + you were the one who once saved my life.' + </p> + <p> + “His hands clutched the straw of his bed through the sheet and he + continued in a hoarse, forcible and low tone: 'You see—I owe you the + truth—I owe it to you—for it must be told to some one before I + leave this earth. + </p> + <p> + “'It is I who killed the children—all of them. I did it—for + revenge! + </p> + <p> + “'Listen. I was an honest, straightforward, pure man—adoring + God—this good Father—this Master who teaches us to love, and + not the false God, the executioner, the robber, the murderer who governs + the earth. I had never done any harm; I had never committed an evil act. I + was as good as it is possible to be, monsieur. + </p> + <p> + “'I married and had children, and I loved them as no father or + mother ever loved their children. I lived only for them. I was wild about + them. All three of them died! Why? why? What had I done? I was rebellious, + furious; and suddenly my eyes were opened as if I were waking up out of a + sleep. I understood that God is bad. Why had He killed my children? I + opened my eyes and saw that He loves to kill. He loves only that, + monsieur. He gives life but to destroy it! God, monsieur, is a murderer! + He needs death every day. And He makes it of every variety, in order the + better to be amused. He has invented sickness and accidents in order to + give Him diversion all through the months and the years; and when He grows + tired of this, He has epidemics, the plague, cholera, diphtheria, + smallpox, everything possible! But this does not satisfy Him; all these + things are too similar; and so from time to time He has wars, in order to + see two hundred thousand soldiers killed at once, crushed in blood and in + the mud, blown apart, their arms and legs torn off, their heads smashed by + bullets, like eggs that fall on the ground. + </p> + <p> + “'But this is not all. He has made men who eat each other. And then, + as men become better than He, He has made beasts, in order to see men hunt + them, kill them and eat them. That is not all. He has made tiny little + animals which live one day, flies who die by the millions in one hour, + ants which we are continually crushing under our feet, and so many, many + others that we cannot even imagine. And all these things are continually + killing each other and dying. And the good Lord looks on and is amused, + for He sees everything, the big ones as well as the little ones, those who + are in the drops of water and those in the other firmaments. He watches + them and is amused. Wretch! + </p> + <p> + “'Then, monsieur, I began to kill children. I played a trick +on Him. He + did not get those. It was not He, but I! And I would have killed many + others, but you caught me. There! + </p> + <p> + “'I was to be executed. I! How He would have laughed! Then I asked + for a priest, and I lied. I confessed to him. I lied and I lived. + </p> + <p> + “'Now, all is over. I can no longer escape from Him. I no longer + fear Him, monsieur; I despise Him too much.' + </p> + <p> + “This poor wretch was frightful to see as he lay there gasping, + opening an enormous mouth in order to utter words which could scarcely be + heard, his breath rattling, picking at his bed and moving his thin legs + under a grimy sheet as though trying to escape. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! The mere remembrance of it is frightful! + </p> + <p> + “'You have nothing more to say?' I asked. + </p> + <p> + “'No, monsieur.' + </p> + <p> + “'Then, farewell.' + </p> + <p> + “'Farewell, monsieur, till some day——' + </p> + <p> + “I turned to the ashen-faced priest, whose dark outline stood out + against the wall, and asked: 'Are you going to stay here, Monsieur + l'Abbe?' + </p> + <p> + “'Yes.' + </p> + <p> + “Then the dying man sneered: 'Yes, yes, He sends His vultures to the + corpses.' + </p> + <p> + “I had had enough of this. I opened the door and ran away.” + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0034"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + THE DISPENSER OF HOLY WATER + </h2> + <p> + He lived formerly in a little house beside the high road outside the + village. He had set up in business as a wheelwright, after marrying the + daughter of a farmer of the neighborhood, and as they were both + industrious, they managed to save up a nice little fortune. But they had + no children, and this caused them great sorrow. Finally a son was born, + whom they named Jean. They both loved and petted him, enfolding him with + their affection, and were unwilling to let him be out of their sight. + </p> + <p> + When he was five years old some mountebanks passed through the country and + set up their tent in the town hall square. + </p> + <p> + Jean, who had seen them pass by, made his escape from the house, and after + his father had made a long search for him, he found him among the learned + goats and trick dogs, uttering shouts of laughter and sitting on the knees + of an old clown. + </p> + <p> + Three days later, just as they were sitting down to dinner, the + wheelwright and his wife noticed that their son was not in the house. They + looked for him in the garden, and as they did not find him, his father + went out into the road and shouted at the top of his voice, “Jean!” + </p> + <p> + Night came on. A brown vapor arose making distant objects look still + farther away and giving them a dismal, weird appearance. Three tall pines, + close at hand, seemed to be weeping. Still there was no reply, but the air + appeared to be full of indistinct sighing. The father listened for some + time, thinking he heard a sound first in one direction, then in another, + and, almost beside himself, he ran, out into the night, calling + incessantly “Jean! Jean!” + </p> + <p> + He ran along thus until daybreak, filling the, darkness with his shouts, + terrifying stray animals, torn by a terrible anguish and fearing that he + was losing his mind. His wife, seated on the stone step of their home, + sobbed until morning. + </p> + <p> + They did not find their son. They both aged rapidly in their inconsolable + sorrow. Finally they sold their house and set out to search together. + </p> + <p> + They inquired of the shepherds on the hillsides, of the tradesmen passing + by, of the peasants in the villages and of the authorities in the towns. + But their boy had been lost a long time and no one knew anything about + him. He had probably forgotten his own name by this time and also the name + of his village, and his parents wept in silence, having lost hope. + </p> + <p> + Before long their money came to an end, and they worked out by the day in + the farms and inns, doing the most menial work, eating what was left from + the tables, sleeping on the ground and suffering from cold. Then as they + became enfeebled by hard work no one would employ them any longer, and + they were forced to beg along the high roads. They accosted passers-by in + an entreating voice and with sad, discouraged faces; they begged a morsel + of bread from the harvesters who were dining around a tree in the fields + at noon, and they ate in silence seated on the edge of a ditch. An + innkeeper to whom they told their story said to them one day: + </p> + <p> + “I know some one who had lost their daughter, and they found her in + Paris.” + </p> + <p> + They at once set out for Paris. + </p> + <p> + When they entered the great city they were bewildered by its size and by + the crowds that they saw. But they knew that Jean must be in the midst of + all these people, though they did not know how to set about looking for + him. Then they feared that they might not recognize him, for he was only + five years old when they last saw him. + </p> + <p> + They visited every place, went through all the streets, stopping whenever + they saw a group of people, hoping for some providential meeting, some + extraordinary luck, some compassionate fate. + </p> + <p> + They frequently walked at haphazard straight ahead, leaning one against + the other, looking so sad and poverty-stricken that people would give them + alms without their asking. + </p> + <p> + They spent every Sunday at the doors of the churches, watching the crowds + entering and leaving, trying to distinguish among the faces one that might + be familiar. Several times they thought they recognized him, but always + found they had made a mistake. + </p> + <p> + In the vestibule of one of the churches which they visited the most + frequently there was an old dispenser of holy Water who had become their + friend. He also had a very sad history, and their sympathy for him had + established a bond of close friendship between them. It ended by them all + three living together in a poor lodging on the top floor of a large house + situated at some distance, quite on the outskirts of the city, and the + wheelwright would sometimes take his new friend's place at the church when + the latter was ill. + </p> + <p> + Winter came, a very severe winter. The poor holy water sprinkler died and + the parish priest appointed the wheelwright, whose misfortunes had come to + his knowledge, to replace him. He went every morning and sat in the same + place, on the same chair, wearing away the old stone pillar by continually + leaning against it. He would gaze steadily at every man who entered the + church and looked forward to Sunday with as much impatience as a + schoolboy, for on that day the church was filled with people from morning + till night. + </p> + <p> + He became very old, growing weaker each day from the dampness of the + church, and his hope oozed away gradually. + </p> + <p> + He now knew by sight all the people who came to the services; he knew + their hours, their manners, could distinguish their step on the stone + pavement. + </p> + <p> + His interests had become so contracted that the entrance of a stranger in + the church was for him a great event. One day two ladies came in; one was + old, the other young—a mother and daughter probably. Behind them + came a man who was following them. He bowed to them as they came out, and + after offering them some holy water, he took the arm of the elder lady. + </p> + <p> + “That must be the fiance of the younger one,” thought the + wheelwright. And until evening he kept trying to recall where he had + formerly seen a young man who resembled this one. But the one he was + thinking of must be an old man by this time, for it seemed as if he had + known him down home in his youth. + </p> + <p> + The same man frequently came again to walk home with the ladies, and this + vague, distant, familiar resemblance which he could not place worried the + old man so much that he made his wife come with him to see if she could + help his impaired memory. + </p> + <p> + One evening as it was growing dusk the three strangers entered together. + When they had passed the old man said: + </p> + <p> + “Well, do you know him?” + </p> + <p> + His wife anxiously tried to ransack her memory. Suddenly she said in a low + tone: + </p> + <p> + “Yes—yes—but he is darker, taller, stouter and is + dressed like a gentleman, but, father, all the same, it is your face when + you were young!” + </p> + <p> + The old man started violently. + </p> + <p> + It was true. He looked like himself and also like his brother who was + dead, and like his father, whom he remembered while he was yet young. The + old couple were so affected that they could not speak. The three persons + came out and were about to leave the church. + </p> + <p> + The man touched his finger to the holy water sprinkler. Then the old man, + whose hand was trembling so that he was fairly sprinkling the ground with + holy water, exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “Jean!” + </p> + <p> + The young man stopped and looked at him. + </p> + <p> + He repeated in a lower tone: + </p> + <p> + “Jean!” + </p> + <p> + The two women looked at them without understanding. + </p> + <p> + He then said for the third time, sobbing as he did so: + </p> + <p> + “Jean!” + </p> + <p> + The man stooped down, with his face close to the old man's, and as a + memory of his childhood dawned on him he replied: + </p> + <p> + “Papa Pierre, Mamma Jeanne!” + </p> + <p> + He had forgotten everything, his father's surname and the name of his + native place, but he always remembered those two words that he had so + often repeated: “Papa Pierre, Mamma Jeanne.” + </p> + <p> + He sank to the floor, his face on the old man's knees, and he wept, + kissing now his father and then his mother, while they were almost + breathless from intense joy. + </p> + <p> + The two ladies also wept, understanding as they did that some great + happiness had come to pass. + </p> + <p> + Then they all went to the young man's house and he told them his history. + The circus people had carried him off. For three years he traveled with + them in various countries. Then the troupe disbanded, and one day an old + lady in a chateau had paid to have him stay with her because she liked his + appearance. As he was intelligent, he was sent to school, then to college, + and the old lady having no children, had left him all her money. He, for + his part, had tried to find his parents, but as he could remember only the + two names, “Papa Pierre, Mamma Jeanne,” he had been unable to + do so. Now he was about to be married, and he introduced his fiancee, who + was very good and very pretty. + </p> + <p> + When the two old people had told their story in their turn he kissed them + once more. They sat up very late that night, not daring to retire lest the + happiness they had so long sought should escape them again while they were + asleep. + </p> + <p> + But misfortune had lost its hold on them and they were happy for the rest + of their lives. + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0035"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + A PARRICIDE + </h2> + <p> + The lawyer had presented a plea of insanity. How could anyone explain this + strange crime otherwise? + </p> + <p> + One morning, in the grass near Chatou, two bodies had been found, a man + and a woman, well known, rich, no longer young and married since the + preceding year, the woman having been a widow for three years before. + </p> + <p> + They were not known to have enemies; they had not been robbed. They seemed + to have been thrown from the roadside into the river, after having been + struck, one after the other, with a long iron spike. + </p> + <p> + The investigation revealed nothing. The boatmen, who had been questioned, + knew nothing. The matter was about to be given up, when a young carpenter + from a neighboring village, Georges Louis, nicknamed “the Bourgeois,” + gave himself up. + </p> + <p> + To all questions he only answered this: + </p> + <p> + “I had known the man for two years, the woman for six months. They + often had me repair old furniture for them, because I am a clever workman.” + </p> + <p> + And when he was asked: + </p> + <p> + “Why did you kill them?” + </p> + <p> + He would obstinately answer: + </p> + <p> + “I killed them because I wanted to kill them.” + </p> + <p> + They could get nothing more out of him. + </p> + <p> + This man was undoubtedly an illegitimate child, put out to nurse and then + abandoned. He had no other name than Georges Louis, but as on growing up + he became particularly intelligent, with the good taste and native + refinement which his acquaintances did not have, he was nicknamed “the + Bourgeois,” and he was never called otherwise. He had become + remarkably clever in the trade of a carpenter, which he had taken up. He + was also said to be a socialist fanatic, a believer in communistic and + nihilistic doctrines, a great reader of bloodthirsty novels, an + influential political agitator and a clever orator in the public meetings + of workmen or of farmers. + </p> + <p> + His lawyer had pleaded insanity. + </p> + <p> + Indeed, how could one imagine that this workman should kill his best + customers, rich and generous (as he knew), who in two years had enabled + him to earn three thousand francs (his books showed it)? Only one + explanation could be offered: insanity, the fixed idea of the unclassed + individual who reeks vengeance on two bourgeois, on all the bourgeoisie, + and the lawyer made a clever allusion to this nickname of “The + Bourgeois,” given throughout the neighborhood to this poor wretch. + He exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “Is this irony not enough to unbalance the mind of this poor wretch, + who has neither father nor mother? He is an ardent republican. What am I + saying? He even belongs to the same political party, the members of which, + formerly shot or exiled by the government, it now welcomes with open arms + this party to which arson is a principle and murder an ordinary + occurrence. + </p> + <p> + “These gloomy doctrines, now applauded in public meetings, have + ruined this man. He has heard republicans—even women, yes, women—ask + for the blood of M. Gambetta, the blood of M. Grevy; his weakened mind + gave way; he wanted blood, the blood of a bourgeois! + </p> + <p> + “It is not he whom you should condemn, gentlemen; it is the Commune!” + </p> + <p> + Everywhere could be heard murmurs of assent. Everyone felt that the lawyer + had won his case. The prosecuting attorney did not oppose him. + </p> + <p> + Then the presiding judge asked the accused the customary question: + </p> + <p> + “Prisoner, is there anything that you wish to add to your defense?” + </p> + <p> + The man stood up. + </p> + <p> + He was a short, flaxen blond, with calm, clear, gray eyes. A strong, + frank, sonorous voice came from this frail-looking boy and, at the first + words, quickly changed the opinion which had been formed of him. + </p> + <p> + He spoke loud in a declamatory manner, but so distinctly that every word + could be understood in the farthest corners of the big hall: + </p> + <p> + “Your honor, as I do not wish to go to an insane asylum, and as I + even prefer death to that, I will tell everything. + </p> + <p> + “I killed this man and this woman because they were my parents. + </p> + <p> + “Now, listen, and judge me. + </p> + <p> + “A woman, having given birth to a boy, sent him out, somewhere, to a + nurse. Did she even know where her accomplice carried this innocent little + being, condemned to eternal misery, to the shame of an illegitimate birth; + to more than that—to death, since he was abandoned and the nurse, no + longer receiving the monthly pension, might, as they often do, let him die + of hunger and neglect! + </p> + <p> + “The woman who nursed me was honest, better, more noble, more of a + mother than my own mother. She brought me up. She did wrong in doing her + duty. It is more humane to let them die, these little wretches who are + cast away in suburban villages just as garbage is thrown away. + </p> + <p> + “I grew up with the indistinct impression that I was carrying some + burden of shame. One day the other children called me a 'b——-'. + They did not know the meaning of this word, which one of them had heard at + home. I was also ignorant of its meaning, but I felt the sting all the + same. + </p> + <p> + “I was, I may say, one of the cleverest boys in the school. I would + have been a good man, your honor, perhaps a man of superior intellect, if + my parents had not committed the crime of abandoning me. + </p> + <p> + “This crime was committed against me. I was the victim, they were + the guilty ones. I was defenseless, they were pitiless. Their duty was to + love me, they rejected me. + </p> + <p> + “I owed them life—but is life a boon? To me, at any rate, it + was a misfortune. After their shameful desertion, I owed them only + vengeance. They committed against me the most inhuman, the most infamous, + the most monstrous crime which can be committed against a human creature. + </p> + <p> + “A man who has been insulted, strikes; a man who has been robbed, + takes back his own by force. A man who has been deceived, played upon, + tortured, kills; a man who has been slapped, kills; a man who has been + dishonored, kills. I have been robbed, deceived, tortured, morally + slapped, dishonored, all this to a greater degree than those whose anger + you excuse. + </p> + <p> + “I revenged myself, I killed. It was my legitimate right. I took + their happy life in exchange for the terrible one which they had forced on + me. + </p> + <p> + “You will call me parricide! Were these people my parents, for whom + I was an abominable burden, a terror, an infamous shame; for whom my birth + was a calamity and my life a threat of disgrace? They sought a selfish + pleasure; they got an unexpected child. They suppressed the child. My turn + came to do the same for them. + </p> + <p> + “And yet, up to quite recently, I was ready to love them. + </p> + <p> + “As I have said, this man, my father, came to me for the first time + two years ago. I suspected nothing. He ordered two pieces of furniture. I + found out, later on, that, under the seal of secrecy, naturally, he had + sought information from the priest. + </p> + <p> + “He returned often. He gave me a lot of work and paid me well. + Sometimes he would even talk to me of one thing or another. I felt a + growing affection for him. + </p> + <p> + “At the beginning of this year he brought with him his wife, my + mother. When she entered she was trembling so that I thought her to be + suffering from some nervous disease. Then she asked for a seat and a glass + of water. She said nothing; she looked around abstractedly at my work and + only answered 'yes' and 'no,' at random, to all the questions which he + asked her. When she had left I thought her a little unbalanced. + </p> + <p> + “The following month they returned. She was calm, self-controlled. + That day they chattered for a long time, and they left me a rather large + order. I saw her three more times, without suspecting anything. But one + day she began to talk to me of my life, of my childhood, of my parents. I + answered: 'Madame, my parents were wretches who deserted me.' Then she + clutched at her heart and fell, unconscious. I immediately thought: 'She + is my mother!' but I took care not to let her notice anything. I wished to + observe her. + </p> + <p> + “I, in turn, sought out information about them. I learned that they + had been married since last July, my mother having been a widow for only + three years. There had been rumors that they had loved each other during + the lifetime of the first husband, but there was no proof of it. I was the + proof—the proof which they had at first hidden and then hoped to + destroy. + </p> + <p> + “I waited. She returned one evening, escorted as usual by my father. + That day she seemed deeply moved, I don't know why. Then, as she was + leaving, she said to me: 'I wish you success, because you seem to me to be + honest and a hard worker; some day you will undoubtedly think of getting + married. I have come to help you to choose freely the woman who may suit + you. I was married against my inclination once and I know what suffering + it causes. Now I am rich, childless, free, mistress of my fortune. Here is + your dowry.' + </p> + <p> + “She held out to me a large, sealed envelope. + </p> + <p> + “I looked her straight in the eyes and then said: 'Are you my + mother?' + </p> + <p> + “She drew back a few steps and hid her face in her hands so as not + to see me. He, the man, my father, supported her in his arms and cried out + to me: 'You must be crazy!' + </p> + <p> + “I answered: 'Not in the least. I know that you are my parents. I + cannot be thus deceived. Admit it and I will keep the secret; I will bear + you no ill will; I will remain what I am, a carpenter.' + </p> + <p> + “He retreated towards the door, still supporting his wife who was + beginning to sob. Quickly I locked the door, put the key in my pocket and + continued: 'Look at her and dare to deny that she is my mother.' + </p> + <p> + “Then he flew into a passion, very pale, terrified at the thought + that the scandal, which had so far been avoided, might suddenly break out; + that their position, their good name, their honor might all at once be + lost. He stammered out: 'You are a rascal, you wish to get money from us! + That's the thanks we get for trying to help such common people!' + </p> + <p> + “My mother, bewildered, kept repeating: 'Let's get out of here, + let's get out!' + </p> + <p> + “Then, when he found the door locked, he exclaimed: 'If you do not + open this door immediately, I will have you thrown into prison for + blackmail and assault!' + </p> + <p> + “I had remained calm; I opened the door and saw them disappear in + the darkness. + </p> + <p> + “Then I seemed to have been suddenly orphaned, deserted, pushed to + the wall. I was seized with an overwhelming sadness, mingled with anger, + hatred, disgust; my whole being seemed to rise up in revolt against the + injustice, the meanness, the dishonor, the rejected love. I began to run, + in order to overtake them along the Seine, which they had to follow in + order to reach the station of Chaton. + </p> + <p> + “I soon caught up with them. It was now pitch dark. I was creeping + up behind them softly, that they might not hear me. My mother was still + crying. My father was saying: 'It's all your own fault. Why did you wish + to see him? It was absurd in our position. We could have helped him from + afar, without showing ourselves. Of what use are these dangerous visits, + since we can't recognize him?' + </p> + <p> + “Then I rushed up to them, beseeching. I cried: + </p> + <p> + “'You see! You are my parents. You have already rejected me once; + would you repulse me again?' + </p> + <p> + “Then, your honor, he struck me. I swear it on my honor, before the + law and my country. He struck me, and as I seized him by the collar, he + drew from his pocket a revolver. + </p> + <p> + “The blood rushed to my head, I no longer knew what I was doing, I + had my compass in my pocket; I struck him with it as often as I could. + </p> + <p> + “Then she began to cry: 'Help! murder!' and to pull my beard. It + seems that I killed her also. How do I know what I did then? + </p> + <p> + “Then, when I saw them both lying on the ground, without thinking, I + threw them into the Seine. + </p> + <p> + “That's all. Now sentence me.” + </p> + <p> + The prisoner sat down. After this revelation the case was carried over to + the following session. It comes up very soon. If we were jurymen, what + would we do with this parricide? + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0036"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + BERTHA + </h2> + <p> + Dr. Bonnet, my old friend—one sometimes has friends older than one's + self—had often invited me to spend some time with him at Riom, and, + as I did not know Auvergne, I made up my mind to visit him in the summer + of 1876. + </p> + <p> + I arrived by the morning train, and the first person I saw on the platform + was the doctor. He was dressed in a gray suit, and wore a soft, black, + wide-brimmed, high-crowned felt hat, narrow at the top like a chimney pot, + a hat which hardly any one except an Auvergnat would wear, and which + reminded one of a charcoal burner. Dressed like that, the doctor had the + appearance of an old young man, with his spare body under his thin coat, + and his large head covered with white hair. + </p> + <p> + He embraced me with that evident pleasure which country people feel when + they meet long-expected friends, and, stretching out his arm, he said + proudly: + </p> + <p> + “This is Auvergne!” I saw nothing before me except a range of + mountains, whose summits, which resembled truncated cones, must have been + extinct volcanoes. + </p> + <p> + Then, pointing to the name of the station, he said: + </p> + <p> + “Riom, the fatherland of magistrates, the pride of the magistracy, + and which ought rather to be the fatherland of doctors.” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” I, asked. + </p> + <p> + “Why?” he replied with a laugh. “If you transpose the + letters, you have the Latin word 'mori', to die. That is the reason why I + settled here, my young friend.” + </p> + <p> + And, delighted at his own joke, he carried me off, rubbing his hands. + </p> + <p> + As soon as I had swallowed a cup of coffee, he made me go and see the + town. I admired the druggist's house, and the other noted houses, which + were all black, but as pretty as bric-a-brac, with their facades of + sculptured stone. I admired the statue of the Virgin, the patroness of + butchers, and he told me an amusing story about this, which I will relate + some other time, and then Dr. Bonnet said to me: + </p> + <p> + “I must beg you to excuse me for a few minutes while I go and see a + patient, and then I will take you to Chatel-Guyon, so as to show you the + general aspect of the town, and all the mountain chain of the Puy-de-Dome + before lunch. You can wait for me outside; I shall only go upstairs and + come down immediately.” + </p> + <p> + He left me outside one of those old, gloomy, silent, melancholy houses, + which one sees in the provinces, and this one appeared to look + particularly sinister, and I soon discovered the reason. All the large + windows on the first floor were boarded half way up. The upper part of + them alone could be opened, as if one had wished to prevent the people who + were locked up in that huge stone box from looking into the street. + </p> + <p> + When the doctor came down again, I told him how it struck me, and he + replied: + </p> + <p> + “You are quite right; the poor creature who is living there must + never see what is going on outside. She is a madwoman, or rather an idiot, + what you Normans would call a Niente. It is a miserable story, but a very + singular pathological case at the same time. Shall I tell you?” + </p> + <p> + I begged him to do so, and he continued: + </p> + <p> + “Twenty years ago the owners of this house, who were my patients, + had a daughter who was like all other girls, but I soon discovered that + while her body became admirably developed, her intellect remained + stationary. + </p> + <p> + “She began to walk very early, but she could not talk. At first I + thought she was deaf, but I soon discovered that, although she heard + perfectly, she did not understand anything that was said to her. Violent + noises made her start and frightened her, without her understanding how + they were caused. + </p> + <p> + “She grew up into a superb woman, but she was dumb, from an absolute + want of intellect. I tried all means to introduce a gleam of intelligence + into her brain, but nothing succeeded. I thought I noticed that she knew + her nurse, though as soon as she was weaned, she failed to recognize her + mother. She could never pronounce that word which is the first that + children utter and the last which soldiers murmur when they are dying on + the field of battle. She sometimes tried to talk, but she produced nothing + but incoherent sounds. + </p> + <p> + “When the weather was fine, she laughed continually, and emitted low + cries which might be compared to the twittering of birds; when it rained + she cried and moaned in a mournful, terrifying manner, which sounded like + the howling of a dog before a death occurs in a house. + </p> + <p> + “She was fond of rolling on the grass, as young animals do, and of + running about madly, and she would clap her hands every morning, when the + sun shone into her room, and would insist, by signs, on being dressed as + quickly as possible, so that she might get out. + </p> + <p> + “She did not appear to distinguish between people, between her + mother and her nurse, or between her father and me, or between the + coachman and the cook. I particularly liked her parents, who were very + unhappy on her account, and went to see them nearly every day. I dined + with them quite frequently, which enabled me to remark that Bertha (they + had called her Bertha) seemed to recognize the various dishes, and to + prefer some to others. At that time she was twelve years old, but as fully + formed in figure as a girl of eighteen, and taller than I was. Then the + idea struck me of developing her greediness, and by this means of + cultivating some slight power of discrimination in her mind, and to force + her, by the diversity of flavors, if not to reason, at any rate to arrive + at instinctive distinctions, which would of themselves constitute a kind + of process that was necessary to thought. Later on, by appealing to her + passions, and by carefully making use of those which could serve our + purpose, we might hope to obtain a kind of reaction on her intellect, and + by degrees increase the unconscious action of her brain. + </p> + <p> + “One day I put two plates before her, one of soup, and the other of + very sweet vanilla cream. I made her taste each of them successively, and + then I let her choose for herself, and she ate the plate of cream. In a + short time I made her very greedy, so greedy that it appeared as if the + only idea she had in her head was the desire for eating. She perfectly + recognized the various dishes, and stretched out her hands toward those + that she liked, and took hold of them eagerly, and she used to cry when + they were taken from her. Then I thought I would try and teach her to come + to the dining-room when the dinner bell rang. It took a long time, but I + succeeded in the end. In her vacant intellect a vague correlation was + established between sound and taste, a correspondence between the two + senses, an appeal from one to the other, and consequently a sort of + connection of ideas—if one can call that kind of instinctive hyphen + between two organic functions an idea—and so I carried my + experiments further, and taught her, with much difficulty, to recognize + meal times by the clock. + </p> + <p> + “It was impossible for me for a long time to attract her attention + to the hands, but I succeeded in making her remark the clockwork and the + striking apparatus. The means I employed were very simple; I asked them + not to have the bell rung for lunch, and everybody got up and went into + the dining-room when the little brass hammer struck twelve o'clock, but I + found great difficulty in making her learn to count the strokes. She ran + to the door each time she heard the clock strike, but by degrees she + learned that all the strokes had not the same value as far as regarded + meals, and she frequently fixed her eyes, guided by her ears, on the dial + of the clock. + </p> + <p> + “When I noticed that, I took care every day at twelve, and at six + o'clock, to place my fingers on the figures twelve and six, as soon as the + moment she was waiting for had arrived, and I soon noticed that she + attentively followed the motion of the small brass hands, which I had + often turned in her presence. + </p> + <p> + “She had understood! Perhaps I ought rather to say that she had + grasped the idea. I had succeeded in getting the knowledge, or, rather, + the sensation, of the time into her, just as is the case with carp, who + certainly have no clocks, when they are fed every day exactly at the same + time. + </p> + <p> + “When once I had obtained that result all the clocks and watches in + the house occupied her attention almost exclusively. She spent her time in + looking at them, listening to them, and in waiting for meal time, and once + something very funny happened. The striking apparatus of a pretty little + Louis XVI clock that hung at the head of her bed having got out of order, + she noticed it. She sat for twenty minutes with her eyes on the hands, + waiting for it to strike ten, but when the hands passed the figure she was + astonished at not hearing anything; so stupefied was she, indeed, that she + sat down, no doubt overwhelmed by a feeling of violent emotion such as + attacks us in the face of some terrible catastrophe. And she had the + wonderful patience to wait until eleven o'clock in order to see what would + happen, and as she naturally heard nothing, she was suddenly either seized + with a wild fit of rage at having been deceived and imposed upon by + appearances, or else overcome by that fear which some frightened creature + feels at some terrible mystery, and by the furious impatience of a + passionate individual who meets with some obstacle; she took up the tongs + from the fireplace and struck the clock so violently that she broke it to + pieces in a moment. + </p> + <p> + “It was evident, therefore, that her, brain did act and calculate, + obscurely it is true, and within very restricted limits, for I could never + succeed in making her distinguish persons as she distinguished the time; + and to stir her intellect, it was necessary to appeal to her passions, in + the material sense of the word, and we soon had another, and alas! a very + terrible proof of this! + </p> + <p> + “She had grown up into a splendid girl, a perfect type of a race, a + sort of lovely and stupid Venus. She was sixteen, and I have rarely seen + such perfection of form, such suppleness and such regular features. I said + she was a Venus; yes, a fair, stout, vigorous Venus, with large, bright, + vacant eyes, which were as blue as the flowers of the flax plant; she had + a large mouth with full lips, the mouth of a glutton, of a sensualist, a + mouth made for kisses. Well, one morning her father came into my + consulting room with a strange look on his face, and, sitting down without + even replying to my greeting, he said: + </p> + <p> + “'I want to speak to you about a very serious matter. Would it be + possible—would it be possible for Bertha to marry?' + </p> + <p> + “'Bertha to marry! Why, it is quite impossible!' + </p> + <p> + “'Yes, I know, I know,' he replied. 'But reflect, doctor. Don't you + think—perhaps—we hoped—if she had children—it + would be a great shock to her, but a great happiness, and—who knows + whether maternity might not rouse her intellect?' + </p> + <p> + “I was in a state of great perplexity. He was right, and it was + possible that such a new situation, and that wonderful instinct of + maternity, which beats in the hearts of the lower animals as it does in + the heart of a woman, which makes the hen fly at a dog's jaws to defend + her chickens, might bring about a revolution, an utter change in her + vacant mind, and set the motionless mechanism of her thoughts in motion. + And then, moreover, I immediately remembered a personal instance. Some + years previously I had owned a spaniel bitch who was so stupid that I + could do nothing with her, but when she had had puppies she became, if not + exactly intelligent, yet almost like many other dogs who had not been + thoroughly broken. + </p> + <p> + “As soon as I foresaw the possibility of this, the wish to get + Bertha married grew in me, not so much out of friendship for her and her + poor parents as from scientific curiosity. What would happen? It was a + singular problem. I said in reply to her father: + </p> + <p> + “'Perhaps you are right. You might make the attempt, but you will + never find a man to consent to marry her.' + </p> + <p> + “'I have found somebody,' he said, in a low voice. + </p> + <p> + “I was dumfounded, and said: 'Somebody really suitable? Some one of + your own rank and position in society?' + </p> + <p> + “'Decidedly,' he replied. + </p> + <p> + “'Oh! And may I ask his name?' + </p> + <p> + “'I came on purpose to tell you, and to consult you. It is Monsieur + Gaston du Boys de Lucelles.' + </p> + <p> + “I felt inclined to exclaim: 'The wretch!' but I held my tongue, and + after a few moments' silence I said: + </p> + <p> + “'Oh! Very good. I see nothing against it.' + </p> + <p> + “The poor man shook me heartily by the hand. + </p> + <p> + “'She is to be married next month,' he said. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur Gaston du Boys de Lucelles was a scapegrace of good + family, who, after having spent all that he had inherited from his father, + and having incurred debts in all kinds of doubtful ways, had been trying + to discover some other means of obtaining money, and he had discovered + this method. He was a good-looking young fellow, and in capital health, + but fast; one of that odious race of provincial fast men, and he appeared + to me to be as suitable as anyone, and could be got rid of later by making + him an allowance. He came to the house to pay his addresses and to strut + about before the idiot girl, who, however, seemed to please him. He + brought her flowers, kissed her hands, sat at her feet, and looked at her + with affectionate eyes; but she took no notice of any of his attentions, + and did not make any distinction between him and the other persons who + were about her. + </p> + <p> + “However, the marriage took place, and you may guess how my + curiosity was aroused. I went to see Bertha the next day to try and + discover from her looks whether any feelings had been awakened in her, but + I found her just the same as she was every day, wholly taken up with the + clock and dinner, while he, on the contrary, appeared really in love, and + tried to rouse his wife's spirits and affection by little endearments and + such caresses as one bestows on a kitten. He could think of nothing + better. + </p> + <p> + “I called upon the married couple pretty frequently, and I soon + perceived that the young woman knew her husband, and gave him those eager + looks which she had hitherto only bestowed on sweet dishes. + </p> + <p> + “She followed his movements, knew his step on the stairs or in the + neighboring rooms, clapped her hands when he came in, and her face was + changed and brightened by the flames of profound happiness and of desire. + </p> + <p> + “She loved him with her whole body and with all her soul to the very + depths of her poor, weak soul, and with all her heart, that poor heart of + some grateful animal. It was really a delightful and innocent picture of + simple passion, of carnal and yet modest passion, such as nature had + implanted in mankind, before man had complicated and disfigured it by all + the various shades of sentiment. But he soon grew tired of this ardent, + beautiful, dumb creature, and did not spend more than an hour during the + day with her, thinking it sufficient if he came home at night, and she + began to suffer in consequence. She used to wait for him from morning till + night with her eyes on the clock; she did not even look after the meals + now, for he took all his away from home, Clermont, Chatel-Guyon, Royat, no + matter where, as long as he was not obliged to come home. + </p> + <p> + “She began to grow thin; every other thought, every other wish, + every other expectation, and every confused hope disappeared from her + mind, and the hours during which she did not see him became hours of + terrible suffering to her. Soon he ceased to come home regularly of + nights; he spent them with women at the casino at Royat and did not come + home until daybreak. But she never went to bed before he returned. She + remained sitting motionless in an easy-chair, with her eyes fixed on the + hands of the clock, which turned so slowly and regularly round the china + face on which the hours were painted. + </p> + <p> + “She heard the trot of his horse in the distance and sat up with a + start, and when he came into the room she got up with the movements of an + automaton and pointed to the clock, as if to say: 'Look how late it is!' + </p> + <p> + “And he began to be afraid of this amorous and jealous, half-witted + woman, and flew into a rage, as brutes do; and one night he even went so + far as to strike her, so they sent for me. When I arrived she was writhing + and screaming in a terrible crisis of pain, anger, passion, how do I know + what? Can one tell what goes on in such undeveloped brains? + </p> + <p> + “I calmed her by subcutaneous injections of morphine, and forbade + her to see that man again, for I saw clearly that marriage would + infallibly kill her by degrees. + </p> + <p> + “Then she went mad! Yes, my dear friend, that idiot went mad. She is + always thinking of him and waiting for him; she waits for him all day and + night, awake or asleep, at this very moment, ceaselessly. When I saw her + getting thinner and thinner, and as she persisted in never taking her eyes + off the clocks, I had them removed from the house. I thus made it + impossible for her to count the hours, and to try to remember, from her + indistinct reminiscences, at what time he used to come home formerly. I + hope to destroy the recollection of it in time, and to extinguish that ray + of thought which I kindled with so much difficulty. + </p> + <p> + “The other day I tried an experiment. I offered her my watch; she + took it and looked at it for some time; then she began to scream terribly, + as if the sight of that little object had suddenly awakened her memory, + which was beginning to grow indistinct. She is pitiably thin now, with + hollow and glittering eyes, and she walks up and down ceaselessly, like a + wild beast in its cage; I have had gratings put on the windows, boarded + them up half way, and have had the seats fixed to the floor so as to + prevent her from looking to see whether he is coming. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! her poor parents! What a life they must lead!” + </p> + <p> + We had got to the top of the hill, and the doctor turned round and said to + me: + </p> + <p> + “Look at Riom from here.” + </p> + <p> + The gloomy town looked like some ancient city. Behind it a green, wooded + plain studded with towns and villages, and bathed in a soft blue haze, + extended until it was lost in the distance. Far away, on my right, there + was a range of lofty mountains with round summits, or else cut off flat, + as if with a sword, and the doctor began to enumerate the villages, towns + and hills, and to give me the history of all of them. But I did not listen + to him; I was thinking of nothing but the madwoman, and I only saw her. + She seemed to be hovering over that vast extent of country like a mournful + ghost, and I asked him abruptly: + </p> + <p> + “What has become of the husband?” + </p> + <p> + My friend seemed rather surprised, but after a few moments' hesitation, he + replied: + </p> + <p> + “He is living at Royat, on an allowance that they made him, and is + quite happy; he leads a very fast life.” + </p> + <p> + As we were slowly going back, both of us silent and rather low-spirited, + an English dogcart, drawn by a thoroughbred horse, came up behind us and + passed us rapidly. The doctor took me by the arm. + </p> + <p> + “There he is,” he said. + </p> + <p> + I saw nothing except a gray felt hat, cocked over one ear above a pair of + broad shoulders, driving off in a cloud of dust. + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0037"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + THE PATRON + </h2> + <p> + We never dreamed of such good fortune! The son of a provincial bailiff, + Jean Marin had come, as do so many others, to study law in the Quartier + Latin. In the various beer-houses that he had frequented he had made + friends with several talkative students who spouted politics as they drank + their beer. He had a great admiration for them and followed them + persistently from cafe to cafe, even paying for their drinks when he had + the money. + </p> + <p> + He became a lawyer and pleaded causes, which he lost. However, one morning + he read in the papers that one of his former comrades of the Quartier had + just been appointed deputy. + </p> + <p> + He again became his faithful hound, the friend who does the drudgery, the + unpleasant tasks, for whom one sends when one has need of him and with + whom one does not stand on ceremony. But it chanced through some + parliamentary incident that the deputy became a minister. Six months later + Jean Marin was appointed a state councillor. + </p> + <p> + He was so elated with pride at first that he lost his head. He would walk + through the streets just to show himself off, as though one could tell by + his appearance what position he occupied. He managed to say to the + shopkeepers as soon as he entered a store, bringing it in somehow in the + course of the most insignificant remarks and even to the news vendors and + the cabmen: + </p> + <p> + “I, who am a state councillor—” + </p> + <p> + Then, in consequence of his position as well as for professional reasons + and as in duty bound through being an influential and generous man, he + felt an imperious need of patronizing others. He offered his support to + every one on all occasions and with unbounded generosity. + </p> + <p> + When he met any one he recognized on the boulevards he would advance to + meet them with a charmed air, would take their hand, inquire after their + health, and, without waiting for any questions, remark: + </p> + <p> + “You know I am state councillor, and I am entirely at your service. + If I can be of any use to you, do not hesitate to call on me. In my + position one has great influence.” + </p> + <p> + Then he would go into some cafe with the friend he had just met and ask + for a pen and ink and a sheet of paper. “Just one, waiter; it is to + write a letter of recommendation.” + </p> + <p> + And he wrote ten, twenty, fifty letters of recommendation a day. He wrote + them to the Cafe Americain, to Bignon's, to Tortoni's, to the Maison + Doree, to the Cafe Riche, to the Helder, to the Cafe Anglais, to the + Napolitain, everywhere, everywhere. He wrote them to all the officials of + the republican government, from the magistrates to the ministers. And he + was happy, perfectly happy. + </p> + <p> + One morning as he was starting out to go to the council it began to rain. + He hesitated about taking a cab, but decided not to do so and set out on + foot. + </p> + <p> + The rain came down in torrents, swamping the sidewalks and inundating the + streets. M. Marin was obliged to take shelter in a doorway. An old priest + was standing there—an old priest with white hair. Before he became a + councillor M. Marin did not like the clergy. Now he treated them with + consideration, ever since a cardinal had consulted him on an important + matter. The rain continued to pour down in floods and obliged the two men + to take shelter in the porter's lodge so as to avoid getting wet. M. + Marin, who was always itching to talk so as to let people know who he was, + remarked: + </p> + <p> + “This is horrible weather, Monsieur l'Abbe.” + </p> + <p> + The old priest bowed: + </p> + <p> + “Yes indeed, sir, it is very unpleasant when one comes to Paris for + only a few days.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! You come from the provinces?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, monsieur. I am only passing through on my journey.” + </p> + <p> + “It certainly is very disagreeable to have rain during the few days + one spends in the capital. We officials who stay here the year round, we + think nothing of it.” + </p> + <p> + The priest did not reply. He was looking at the street where the rain + seemed to be falling less heavily. And with a sudden resolve he raised his + cassock just as women raise their skirts in stepping across water. + </p> + <p> + M. Marin, seeing him start away, exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “You will get drenched, Monsieur l'Abbe. Wait a few moments longer; + the rain will be over.” + </p> + <p> + The good man stopped irresistibly and then said: + </p> + <p> + “But I am in a great hurry. I have an important engagement.” + </p> + <p> + M. Marin seemed quite worried. + </p> + <p> + “But you will be absolutely drenched. Might I ask in which direction + you are going?” + </p> + <p> + The priest appeared to hesitate. Then he said: + </p> + <p> + “I am going in the direction of the Palais Royal.” + </p> + <p> + “In that case, if you will allow me, Monsieur l'Abbe, I will offer + you the shelter of my umbrella: As for me, I am going to the council. I am + a councillor of state.” + </p> + <p> + The old priest raised his head and looked at his neighbor and then + exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “I thank you, monsieur. I shall be glad to accept your offer.” + </p> + <p> + M. Marin then took his arm and led him away. He directed him, watched over + him and advised him. + </p> + <p> + “Be careful of that stream, Monsieur l'Abbe. And be very careful + about the carriage wheels; they spatter you with mud sometimes from head + to foot. Look out for the umbrellas of the people passing by; there is + nothing more dangerous to the eyes than the tips of the ribs. Women + especially are unbearable; they pay no heed to where they are going and + always jab you in the face with the point of their parasols or umbrellas. + And they never move aside for anybody. One would suppose the town belonged + to them. They monopolize the pavement and the street. It is my opinion + that their education has been greatly neglected.” + </p> + <p> + And M. Marin laughed. + </p> + <p> + The priest did not reply. He walked along, slightly bent over, picking his + steps carefully so as not to get mud on his boots or his cassock. + </p> + <p> + M. Marin resumed: + </p> + <p> + “I suppose you have come to Paris to divert your mind a little?” + </p> + <p> + The good man replied: + </p> + <p> + “No, I have some business to attend to.” + </p> + <p> + “Ali! Is it important business? Might I venture to ask what it is? + If I can be of any service to you, you may command me.” + </p> + <p> + The priest seemed embarrassed. He murmured: + </p> + <p> + “Oh, it is a little personal matter; a little difficulty with—with + my bishop. It would not interest you. It is a matter of internal + regulation—an ecclesiastical affair.” + </p> + <p> + M. Marin was eager. + </p> + <p> + “But it is precisely the state council that regulates all those + things. In that case, make use of me.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, monsieur, it is to the council that I am going. You are a + thousand times too kind. I have to see M. Lerepere and M. Savon and also + perhaps M. Petitpas.” + </p> + <p> + M. Marin stopped short. + </p> + <p> + “Why, those are my friends, Monsieur l'Abbe, my best friends, + excellent colleagues, charming men. I will speak to them about you, and + very highly. Count upon me.” + </p> + <p> + The cure thanked him, apologizing for troubling him, and stammered out a + thousand grateful promises. + </p> + <p> + M. Marin was enchanted. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, you may be proud of having made a stroke of luck, Monsieur + l'Abbe. You will see—you will see that, thanks to me, your affair + will go along swimmingly.” + </p> + <p> + They reached the council hall. M. Marin took the priest into his office, + offered him a chair in front of the fire and sat down himself at his desk + and began to write. + </p> + <p> + “My dear colleague, allow me to recommend to you most highly a + venerable and particularly worthy and deserving priest, M. L'Abbe——” + </p> + <p> + He stopped and asked: + </p> + <p> + “Your name, if you please?” + </p> + <p> + “L'Abbe Ceinture.” + </p> + <p> + “M. l'Abbe Ceinture, who needs your good office in a little matter + which he will communicate to you. + </p> + <p> + “I am pleased at this incident which gives me an opportunity, my + dear colleague——” + </p> + <p> + And he finished with the usual compliments. + </p> + <p> + When he had written the three letters he handed them to his protege, who + took his departure with many protestations of gratitude. + </p> + <p> + M. Marin attended to some business and then went home, passed the day + quietly, slept well, woke in a good humor and sent for his newspapers. + </p> + <p> + The first he opened was a radical sheet. He read: + </p> +<div class='pre'> + “OUR CLERGY AND OUR GOVERNMENT OFFICIALS +</div> + <p> + “We shall never make an end of enumerating the misdeeds of the + clergy. A certain priest, named Ceinture, convicted of conspiracy against + the present government, accused of base actions to which we will not even + allude, suspected besides of being a former Jesuit, metamorphosed into a + simple priest, suspended by a bishop for causes that are said to be + unmentionable and summoned to Paris to give an explanation of his conduct, + has found an ardent defender in the man named Marin, a councillor of + state, who was not afraid to give this frocked malefactor the warmest + letters of recommendation to all the republican officials, his colleagues. + </p> + <p> + “We call the, attention of the ministry to the unheard of attitude + of this councillor of state——” + </p> + <p> + M. Marin bounded out of bed, dressed himself and hastened to his + colleague, Petitpas, who said to him: + </p> + <p> + “How now? You were crazy to recommend to me that old conspirator!” + </p> + <p> + M. Marin, bewildered, stammered out: + </p> + <p> + “Why no—you see—I was deceived. He looked such an honest + man. He played me a trick—a disgraceful trick! I beg that you will + sentence him severely, very severely. I am going to write. Tell me to whom + I should write about having him punished. I will go and see the + attorney-general and the archbishop of Paris—yes, the archbishop.” + </p> + <p> + And seating himself abruptly at M. Petitpas' desk, he wrote: + </p> + <p> + “Monseigneur, I have the honor to bring to your grace's notice the + fact that I have recently been made a victim of the intrigues and lies of + a certain Abbe Ceinture, who imposed on my kind-heartedness. + </p> + <p> + “Deceived by the representations of this ecclesiastic, I was led——” + </p> + <p> + Then, having signed and sealed his letter, he turned to his colleague and + exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “See here; my dear friend, let this be a warning to you never to + recommend any one again.” + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0038"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + THE DOOR + </h2> + <p> + “Bah!” exclaimed Karl Massouligny, “the question of + complaisant husbands is a difficult one. I have seen many kinds, and yet I + am unable to give an opinion about any of them. I have often tried to + determine whether they are blind, weak or clairvoyant. I believe that + there are some which belong to each of these categories. + </p> + <p> + “Let us quickly pass over the blind ones. They cannot rightly be + called complaisant, since they do not know, but they are good creatures + who cannot see farther than their nose. It is a curious and interesting + thing to notice the ease with which men and women can, be deceived. We are + taken in by the slightest trick of those who surround us, by our children, + our friends, our servants, our tradespeople. Humanity is credulous, and in + order to discover deceit in others, we do not display one-tenth the + shrewdness which we use when we, in turn, wish to deceive some one else. + </p> + <p> + “Clairvoyant husbands may be divided into three classes: Those who + have some interest, pecuniary, ambitious or otherwise, in their wife's + having love affairs. These ask only to safeguard appearances as much as + possible, and they are satisfied. + </p> + <p> + “Next come those who get angry. What a beautiful novel one could + write about them! + </p> + <p> + “Finally the weak ones! Those who are afraid of scandal. + </p> + <p> + “There are also those who are powerless, or, rather, tired, who flee + from the duties of matrimony through fear of ataxia or apoplexy, who are + satisfied to see a friend run these risks. + </p> + <p> + “But I once met a husband of a rare species, who guarded against the + common accident in a strange and witty manner. + </p> + <p> + “In Paris I had made the acquaintance of an elegant, fashionable + couple. The woman, nervous, tall, slender, courted, was supposed to have + had many love adventures. She pleased me with her wit, and I believe that + I pleased her also. I courted her, a trial courting to which she answered + with evident provocations. Soon we got to tender glances, hand pressures, + all the little gallantries which precede the final attack. + </p> + <p> + “Nevertheless, I hesitated. I consider that, as a rule, the majority + of society intrigues, however short they may be, are not worth the trouble + which they give us and the difficulties which may arise. I therefore + mentally compared the advantages and disadvantages which I might expect, + and I thought I noticed that the husband suspected me. + </p> + <p> + “One evening, at a ball, as I was saying tender things to the young + woman in a little parlor leading from the big hall where the dancing was + going on, I noticed in a mirror the reflection of some one who was + watching me. It was he. Our looks met and then I saw him turn his head and + walk away. + </p> + <p> + “I murmured: 'Your husband is spying on us.' + </p> + <p> + “She seemed dumbfounded and asked: 'My husband?' + </p> + <p> + “'Yes, he has been watching us for some time: + </p> + <p> + “'Nonsense! Are you sure?' + </p> + <p> + “'Very sure.' + </p> + <p> + “'How strange! He is usually extraordinarily pleasant to all my + friends.' + </p> + <p> + “'Perhaps he guessed that I love you!' + </p> + <p> + “'Nonsense! You are not the first one to pay attention to me. Every + woman who is a little in view drags behind her a herd of admirers.' + </p> + <p> + “'Yes. But I love you deeply.' + </p> + <p> + “'Admitting that that is true, does a husband ever guess those + things?' + </p> + <p> + “'Then he is not jealous?' + </p> + <p> + “'No-no!' + </p> + <p> + “She thought for an instant and then continued: 'No. I do not think + that I ever noticed any jealousy on his part.' + </p> + <p> + “'Has he never watched you?' + </p> + <p> + “'No. As I said, he is always agreeable to my friends.' + </p> + <p> + “From that day my courting became much more assiduous. The woman did + not please me any more than before, but the probable jealousy of her + husband tempted me greatly. + </p> + <p> + “As for her, I judged her coolly and clearly. She had a certain + worldly charm, due to a quick, gay, amiable and superficial mind, but no + real, deep attraction. She was, as I have already said, an excitable + little being, all on the surface, with rather a showy elegance. How can I + explain myself? She was an ornament, not a home. + </p> + <p> + “One day, after taking dinner with her, her husband said to me, just + as I was leaving: 'My dear friend' (he now called me 'friend'), 'we soon + leave for the country. It is a great pleasure to my wife and myself to + entertain people whom we like. We would be very pleased to have you spend + a month with us. It would be very nice of you to do so.' + </p> + <p> + “I was dumbfounded, but I accepted. + </p> + <p> + “A month later I arrived at their estate of Vertcresson, in + Touraine. They were waiting for me at the station, five miles from the + chateau. There were three of them, she, the husband and a gentleman + unknown to me, the Comte de Morterade, to whom I was introduced. He + appeared to be delighted to make my acquaintance, and the strangest ideas + passed through my mind while we trotted along the beautiful road between + two hedges. I was saying to myself: 'Let's see, what can this mean? Here + is a husband who cannot doubt that his wife and I are on more than + friendly terms, and yet he invites me to his house, receives me like an + old friend and seems to say: “Go ahead, my friend, the road is + clear!”' + </p> + <p> + “Then I am introduced to a very pleasant gentleman, who seems + already to have settled down in the house, and—and who is perhaps + trying to get out of it, and who seems as pleased at my arrival as the + husband himself. + </p> + <p> + “Is it some former admirer who wishes to retire? One might think so. + But, then, would these two men tacitly have come to one of these infamous + little agreements so common in society? And it is proposed to me that I + should quietly enter into the pact and carry it out. All hands and arms + are held out to me. All doors and hearts are open to me. + </p> + <p> + “And what about her? An enigma. She cannot be ignorant of + everything. However—however—Well, I cannot understand it. + </p> + <p> + “The dinner was very gay and cordial. On leaving the table the + husband and his friend began to play cards, while I went out on the porch + to look at the moonlight with madame. She seemed to be greatly affected by + nature, and I judged that the moment for my happiness was near. That + evening she was really delightful. The country had seemed to make her more + tender. Her long, slender waist looked pretty on this stone porch beside a + great vase in which grew some flowers. I felt like dragging her out under + the trees, throwing myself at her feet and speaking to her words of love. + </p> + <p> + “Her husband's voice called 'Louise!' + </p> + <p> + “'Yes, dear.' + </p> + <p> + “'You are forgetting the tea.' + </p> + <p> + “'I'll go and see about it, my friend.' + </p> + <p> + “We returned to the house, and she gave us some tea. When the two + men had finished playing cards, they were visibly tired. I had to go to my + room. I did not get to sleep till late, and then I slept badly. + </p> + <p> + “An excursion was decided upon for the following afternoon, and we + went in an open carriage to visit some ruins. She and I were in the back + of the vehicle and they were opposite us, riding backward. The + conversation was sympathetic and agreeable. I am an orphan, and it seemed + to me as though I had just found my family, I felt so at home with them. + </p> + <p> + “Suddenly, as she had stretched out her foot between her husband's + legs, he murmured reproachfully: 'Louise, please don't wear out your old + shoes yourself. There is no reason for being neater in Paris than in the + country.' + </p> + <p> + “I lowered my eyes. She was indeed wearing worn-out shoes, and I + noticed that her stockings were not pulled up tight. + </p> + <p> + “She had blushed and hidden her foot under her dress. The friend was + looking out in the distance with an indifferent and unconcerned look. + </p> + <p> + “The husband offered me a cigar, which I accepted. For a few days it + was impossible for me to be alone with her for two minutes; he was with us + everywhere. He was delightful to me, however. + </p> + <p> + “One morning he came to get me to take a walk before breakfast, and + the conversation happened to turn on marriage. I spoke a little about + solitude and about how charming life can be made by the affection of a + woman. Suddenly he interrupted me, saying: 'My friend, don't talk about + things you know nothing about. A woman who has no other reason for loving + you will not love you long. All the little coquetries which make them so + exquisite when they do not definitely belong to us cease as soon as they + become ours. And then—the respectable women—that is to say our + wives—are—are not—in fact do not understand their + profession of wife. Do you understand?' + </p> + <p> + “He said no more, and I could not guess his thoughts. + </p> + <p> + “Two days after this conversation he called me to his room quite + early, in order to show me a collection of engravings. I sat in an easy + chair opposite the big door which separated his apartment from his wife's, + and behind this door I heard some one walking and moving, and I was + thinking very little of the engravings, although I kept exclaiming: 'Oh, + charming! delightful! exquisite!' + </p> + <p> + “He suddenly said: 'Oh, I have a beautiful specimen in the next + room. I'll go and get it.' + </p> + <p> + “He ran to the door quickly, and both sides opened as though for a + theatrical effect. + </p> + <p> + “In a large room, all in disorder, in the midst of skirts, collars, + waists lying around on the floor, stood a tall, dried-up creature. The + lower part of her body was covered with an old, worn-out silk petticoat, + which was hanging limply on her shapeless form, and she was standing in + front of a mirror brushing some short, sparse blond hairs. Her arms formed + two acute angles, and as she turned around in astonishment I saw under a + common cotton chemise a regular cemetery of ribs, which were hidden from + the public gaze by well-arranged pads. + </p> + <p> + “The husband uttered a natural exclamation and came back, closing + the doors, and said: 'Gracious! how stupid I am! Oh, how thoughtless! My + wife will never forgive me for that!' + </p> + <p> + “I already felt like thanking him. I left three days later, after + cordially shaking hands with the two men and kissing the lady's fingers. + She bade me a cold good-by.” + </p> + <p> + Karl Massouligny was silent. Some one asked: “But what was the + friend?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know—however—however he looked greatly + distressed to see me leaving so soon.” + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0039"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + A SALE + </h2> + <p> + The defendants, Cesaire-Isidore Brument and Prosper-Napoleon Cornu, + appeared before the Court of Assizes of the Seine-Inferieure, on a charge + of attempted murder, by drowning, of Mme. Brument, lawful wife of the + first of the aforenamed. + </p> + <p> + The two prisoners sat side by side on the traditional bench. They were two + peasants; the first was small and stout, with short arms, short legs, and + a round head with a red pimply face, planted directly on his trunk, which + was also round and short, and with apparently no neck. He was a raiser of + pigs and lived at Cacheville-la-Goupil, in the district of Criquetot. + </p> + <p> + Cornu (Prosper-Napoleon) was thin, of medium height, with enormously long + arms. His head was on crooked, his jaw awry, and he squinted. A blue + blouse, as long as a shirt, hung down to his knees, and his yellow hair, + which was scanty and plastered down on his head, gave his face a worn-out, + dirty look, a dilapidated look that was frightful. He had been nicknamed + “the cure” because he could imitate to perfection the chanting + in church, and even the sound of the serpent. This talent attracted to his + cafe—for he was a saloon keeper at Criquetot—a great many + customers who preferred the “mass at Cornu” to the mass in + church. + </p> + <p> + Mme. Brument, seated on the witness bench, was a thin peasant woman who + seemed to be always asleep. She sat there motionless, her hands crossed on + her knees, gazing fixedly before her with a stupid expression. + </p> + <p> + The judge continued his interrogation. + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, Mme. Brument, they came into your house and threw you + into a barrel full of water. Tell us the details. Stand up.” + </p> + <p> + She rose. She looked as tall as a flag pole with her cap which looked like + a white skull cap. She said in a drawling tone: + </p> + <p> + “I was shelling beans. Just then they came in. I said to myself, + 'What is the matter with them? They do not seem natural, they seem up to + some mischief.' They watched me sideways, like this, especially Cornu, + because he squints. I do not like to see them together, for they are two + good-for-nothings when they are in company. I said: 'What do you want with + me?' They did not answer. I had a sort of mistrust——” + </p> + <p> + The defendant Brument interrupted the witness hastily, saying: + </p> + <p> + “I was full.” + </p> + <p> + Then Cornu, turning towards his accomplice said in the deep tones of an + organ: + </p> + <p> + “Say that we were both full, and you will be telling no lie.” + </p> + <p> + The judge, severely: + </p> + <p> + “You mean by that that you were both drunk?” + </p> + <p> + Brument: “There can be no question about it.” + </p> + <p> + Cornu: “That might happen to anyone.” + </p> + <p> + The judge to the victim: “Continue your testimony, woman Brument.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, Brument said to me, 'Do you wish to earn a hundred sous?' + 'Yes,' I replied, seeing that a hundred sous are not picked up in a + horse's tracks. Then he said: 'Open your eyes and do as I do,' and he went + to fetch the large empty barrel which is under the rain pipe in the + corner, and he turned it over and brought it into my kitchen, and stuck it + down in the middle of the floor, and then he said to me: 'Go and fetch + water until it is full.' + </p> + <p> + “So I went to the pond with two pails and carried water, and still + more water for an hour, seeing that the barrel was as large as a vat, + saving your presence, m'sieu le president. + </p> + <p> + “All this time Brument and Cornu were drinking a glass, and then + another glass, and then another. They were finishing their drinks when I + said to them: 'You are full, fuller than this barrel.' And Brument + answered me. 'Do not worry, go on with your work, your turn will come, + each one has his share.' I paid no attention to what he said as he was + full. + </p> + <p> + “When the barrel was full to the brim, I said: 'There, that's done.' + </p> + <p> + “And then Cornu gave me a hundred sous, not Brument, Cornu; it was + Cornu gave them to me. And Brument said: 'Do you wish to earn a hundred + sous more?' 'Yes,' I said, for I am not accustomed to presents like that. + Then he said: 'Take off your clothes! + </p> + <p> + “'Take off my clothes?' + </p> + <p> + “'Yes,' he said. + </p> + <p> + “'How many shall I take off?' + </p> + <p> + “'If it worries you at all, keep on your chemise, that won't bother + us.' + </p> + <p> + “A hundred sous is a hundred sous, and I have to undress myself; but + I did not fancy undressing before those two good-for-nothings. I took off + my cap, and then my jacket, and then my skirt, and then my sabots. Brument + said, 'Keep on your stockings, also; we are good fellows.' + </p> + <p> + “And Cornu said, too, 'We are good fellows.' + </p> + <p> + “So there I was, almost like mother Eve. And they got up from their + chairs, but could not stand straight, they were so full, saving your + presence, M'sieu le president. + </p> + <p> + “I said to myself: 'What are they up to?' + </p> + <p> + “And Brument said: 'Are you ready?' + </p> + <p> + “And Cornu said: 'I'm ready!' + </p> + <p> + “And then they took me, Brument by the head, and Cornu by the feet, + as one might take, for instance, a sheet that has been washed. Then I + began to bawl. + </p> + <p> + “And Brument said: 'Keep still, wretched creature!' + </p> + <p> + “And they lifted me up in the air and put me into the barrel, which + was full of water, so that I had a check of the circulation, a chill to my + very insides. + </p> + <p> + “And Brument said: 'Is that all?' + </p> + <p> + “Cornu said: 'That is all.' + </p> + <p> + “Brument said: 'The head is not in, that will make a difference in + the measure.' + </p> + <p> + “Cornu said: 'Put in her head.' + </p> + <p> + “And then Brument pushed down my head as if to drown me, so that the + water ran into my nose, so that I could already see Paradise. And he + pushed it down, and I disappeared. + </p> + <p> + “And then he must have been frightened. He pulled me out and said: + 'Go and get dry, carcass.' + </p> + <p> + “As for me, I took to my heels and ran as far as M. le cure's. He + lent me a skirt belonging to his servant, for I was almost in a state of + nature, and he went to fetch Maitre Chicot, the country watchman who went + to Criquetot to fetch the police who came to my house with me. + </p> + <p> + “Then we found Brument and Cornu fighting each other like two rams. + </p> + <p> + “Brument was bawling: 'It isn't true, I tell you that there is at + least a cubic metre in it. It is the method that was no good.' + </p> + <p> + “Cornu bawled: 'Four pails, that is almost half a cubic metre. You + need not reply, that's what it is.' + </p> + <p> + “The police captain put them both under arrest. I have no more to + tell.” + </p> + <p> + She sat down. The audience in the court room laughed. The jurors looked at + one another in astonishment. The judge said: + </p> + <p> + “Defendant Cornu, you seem to have been the instigator of this + infamous plot. What have you to say?” + </p> + <p> + And Cornu rose in his turn. + </p> + <p> + “Judge,” he replied, “I was full.” + </p> + <p> + The Judge answered gravely: + </p> + <p> + “I know it. Proceed.” + </p> + <p> + “I will. Well, Brument came to my place about nine o'clock, and + ordered two drinks, and said: 'There's one for you, Cornu.' I sat down + opposite him and drank, and out of politeness, I offered him a glass. Then + he returned the compliment and so did I, and so it went on from glass to + glass until noon, when we were full. + </p> + <p> + “Then Brument began to cry. That touched me. I asked him what was + the matter. He said: 'I must have a thousand francs by Thursday.' That + cooled me off a little, you understand. Then he said to me all at once: 'I + will sell you my wife.' + </p> + <p> + “I was full, and I was a widower. You understand, that stirred me + up. I did not know his wife, but she was a woman, wasn't she? I asked him: + 'How much would you sell her for?' + </p> + <p> + “He reflected, or pretended to reflect. When one is full one is not + very clear-headed, and he replied: 'I will sell her by the cubic metre.' + </p> + <p> + “That did not surprise me, for I was as drunk as he was, and I knew + what a cubic metre is in my business. It is a thousand litres, that suited + me. + </p> + <p> + “But the price remained to be settled. All depends on the quality. I + said: 'How much do you want a cubic metre?' + </p> + <p> + “He answered: 'Two thousand francs.' + </p> + <p> + “I gave a bound like a rabbit, and then I reflected that a woman + ought not to measure more than three hundred litres. So I said: 'That's + too dear.' + </p> + <p> + “He answered: 'I cannot do it for less. I should lose by it.' + </p> + <p> + “You understand, one is not a dealer in hogs for nothing. One + understands one's business. But, if he is smart, the seller of bacon, I am + smarter, seeing that I sell them also. Ha, Ha, Ha! So I said to him: 'If + she were new, I would not say anything, but she has been married to you + for some time, so she is not as fresh as she was. I will give you fifteen + hundred francs a cubic metre, not a sou more. Will that suit you?' + </p> + <p> + “He answered: 'That will do. That's a bargain!' + </p> + <p> + “I agreed, and we started out, arm in arm. We must help each other + in this world. + </p> + <p> + “But a fear came to me: 'How can you measure her unless you put her + into the liquid?' + </p> + <p> + “Then he explained his idea, not without difficulty for he was full. + He said to me: 'I take a barrel, and fill it with water to the brim. I put + her in it. All the water that comes out we will measure, that is the way + to fix it.' + </p> + <p> + “I said: 'I see, I understand. But this water that overflows will + run away; how are you going to gather it up?' + </p> + <p> + “Then he began stuffing me and explained to me that all we should + have to do would be to refill the barrel with the water his wife had + displaced as soon as she should have left. All the water we should pour in + would be the measure. I supposed about ten pails; that would be a cubic + metre. He isn't a fool, all the same, when he is drunk, that old horse. + </p> + <p> + “To be brief, we reached his house and I took a look at its + mistress. A beautiful woman she certainly was not. Anyone can see her, for + there she is. I said to myself: 'I am disappointed, but never mind, she + will be of value; handsome or ugly, it is all the same, is it not, + monsieur le president?' And then I saw that she was as thin as a rail. I + said to myself: 'She will not measure four hundred litres.' I understand + the matter, it being in liquids. + </p> + <p> + “She told you about the proceeding. I even let her keep on her + chemise and stockings, to my own disadvantage. + </p> + <p> + “When that was done she ran away. I said: 'Look out, Brument! she is + escaping.' + </p> + <p> + “He replied: 'Do not be afraid. I will catch her all right. She will + have to come back to sleep, I will measure the deficit.' + </p> + <p> + “We measured. Not four pailfuls. Ha, Ha, Ha!” + </p> + <p> + The witness began to laugh so persistently that a gendarme was obliged to + punch him in the back. Having quieted down, he resumed: + </p> + <p> + “In short, Brument exclaimed: 'Nothing doing, that is not enough.' I + bawled and bawled, and bawled again, he punched me, I hit back. That would + have kept on till the Day of judgment, seeing we were both drunk. + </p> + <p> + “Then came the gendarmes! They swore at us, they took us off to + prison. I want damages.” + </p> + <p> + He sat down. + </p> + <p> + Brument confirmed in every particular the statements of his accomplice. + The jury, in consternation, retired to deliberate. + </p> + <p> + At the end of an hour they returned a verdict of acquittal for the + defendants, with some severe strictures on the dignity of marriage, and + establishing the precise limitations of business transactions. + </p> + <p> + Brument went home to the domestic roof accompanied by his wife. + </p> + <p> + Cornu went back to his business. + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0040"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + THE IMPOLITE SEX + </h2> +<div class='pre'> + Madame de X. to Madame de L. + + ETRETAT, Friday. +My Dear Aunt: +</div> + <p> + I am coming to see you without anyone knowing it. I shall be at Les + Fresnes on the 2d of September, the day before the hunting season opens, + as I do not want to miss it, so that I may tease these gentlemen. You are + too good, aunt, and you will allow them, as you usually do when there are + no strange guests, to come to table, under pretext of fatigue, without + dressing or shaving for the occasion. + </p> + <p> + They are delighted, of course, when I am not present. But I shall be there + and will hold a review, like a general, at dinner time; and, if I find a + single one of them at all careless in dress, no matter how little, I mean + to send them down to the kitchen with the servants. + </p> + <p> + The men of to-day have so little consideration for others and so little + good manners that one must be always severe with them. We live indeed in + an age of vulgarity. When they quarrel, they insult each other in terms + worthy of longshoremen, and, in our presence, they do not conduct + themselves even as well as our servants. It is at the seaside that you see + this most clearly. They are to be found there in battalions, and you can + judge them in the lump. Oh! what coarse beings they are! + </p> + <p> + Just imagine, in a train, a gentleman who looked well, as I thought at + first sight, thanks to his tailor, carefully took off his boots in order + to put on a pair of old shoes! Another, an old man who was probably some + wealthy upstart (these are the most ill-bred), while sitting opposite to + me, had the delicacy to place his two feet on the seat quite close to me. + This is a positive fact. + </p> + <p> + At the watering-places the vulgarity is unrestrained. I must here make one + admission—that my indignation is perhaps due to the fact that I am + not accustomed to associate, as a rule, with the sort of people one comes + across here, for I should be less shocked by their manners if I had the + opportunity of observing them oftener. In the office of the hotel I was + nearly thrown down by a young man who snatched the key over my head. + Another knocked against me so violently without begging my pardon or + lifting his hat, coming away from a ball at the Casino, that it gave me a + pain in the chest. It is the same way with all of them. Watch them + addressing ladies on the terrace; they scarcely ever bow. They merely + raise their hands to their headgear. But, indeed, as they are all more or + less bald, it is the best plan. + </p> + <p> + But what exasperates and disgusts me particularly is the liberty they take + of talking in public, without any kind of precaution, about the most + revolting adventures. When two men are together, they relate to each + other, in the broadest language and with the most abominable comments + really horrible stories, without caring in the slightest degree whether a + woman's ear is within reach of their voices. Yesterday, on the beach, I + was forced to leave the place where I was sitting in order not to be any + longer the involuntary confidante of an obscene anecdote, told in such + immodest language that I felt just as humiliated as indignant at having + heard it. Would not the most elementary good-breeding teach them to speak + in a lower tone about such matters when we are near at hand. Etretat is, + moreover, the country of gossip and scandal. From five to seven o'clock + you can see people wandering about in quest of scandal, which they retail + from group to group. As you remarked to me, my dear aunt, tittle-tattle is + the mark of petty individuals and petty minds. It is also the consolation + of women who are no longer loved or sought after. It is enough for me to + observe the women who are fondest of gossiping to be persuaded that you + are quite right. + </p> + <p> + The other day I was present at a musical evening at the Casino, given by a + remarkable artist, Madame Masson, who sings in a truly delightful manner. + I took the opportunity of applauding the admirable Coquelin, as well as + two charming vaudeville performers, M——and Meillet. I met, on + this occasion, all the bathers who were at the beach. It is no great + distinction this year. + </p> + <p> + Next day I went to lunch at Yport. I noticed a tall man with a beard, + coming out of a large house like a castle. It was the painter, Jean Paul + Laurens. He is not satisfied apparently with imprisoning the subjects of + his pictures, he insists on imprisoning himself. + </p> + <p> + Then I found myself seated on the shingle close to a man still young, of + gentle and refined appearance, who was reading poetry. But he read it with + such concentration, with such passion, I may say, that he did not even + raise his eyes towards me. I was somewhat astonished and asked the + proprietor of the baths, without appearing to be much concerned, the name + of this gentleman. I laughed to myself a little at this reader of rhymes; + he seemed behind the age, for a man. This person, I thought, must be a + simpleton. Well, aunt, I am now infatuated about this stranger. Just + fancy, his name is Sully Prudhomme! I went back and sat down beside him + again so as to get a good look at him. His face has an expression of + calmness and of penetration. Somebody came to look for him, and I heard + his voice, which is sweet and almost timid. He would certainly not tell + obscene stories aloud in public or knock up against ladies without + apologizing. He is assuredly a man of refinement, but his refinement is of + an almost morbid, sensitive character, I will try this winter to get an + introduction to him. + </p> +<div class='pre'> +I have no more news, my dear aunt, and I must finish this letter in +haste, as the mail will soon close. I kiss your hands and your cheeks. +Your devoted niece, + BERTHE DE X. +</div> + <p> + P. S.—I should add, however, by way of justification of French + politeness, that our fellow-countrymen are, when travelling, models of + good manners in comparison with the abominable English, who seem to have + been brought up in a stable, so careful are they not to discommode + themselves in any way, while they always discommode their neighbors. + </p> +<div class='pre'> + Madame de L. to Madame de X. + + LES FRESNES, Saturday. +My Dear Child: +</div> + <p> + Many of the things you have said to me are very sensible, but that does + not prevent you from being wrong. Like you, I used formerly to feel very + indignant at the impoliteness of men, who, as I supposed, constantly + treated me with neglect; but, as I grew older and reflected on everything, + putting aside coquetry, and observing things without taking any part in + them myself, I perceived this much—that if men are not always + polite, women are always indescribably rude. + </p> + <p> + We imagine that we should be permitted to do anything, my darling, and at + the same time we consider that we have a right to the utmost respect, and + in the most flagrant manner we commit actions devoid of that elementary + good-breeding of which you speak so feelingly. + </p> + <p> + I find, on the contrary, that men consider us much more than we consider + them. Besides, darling, men must needs be, and are, what we make them. In + a state of society, where women are all true gentlewomen, all men would + become gentlemen. + </p> + <p> + Come now; just observe and reflect. + </p> + <p> + Look at two women meeting in the street. What an attitude each assumes + towards the other! What disparaging looks! What contempt they throw into + each glance! How they toss their heads while they inspect each other to + find something to condemn! And, if the footpath is narrow, do you think + one woman would make room for another, or would beg pardon as she sweeps + by? Never! When two men jostle each other by accident in some narrow lane, + each of them bows and at the same time gets out of the other's way, while + we women press against each other stomach to stomach, face to face, + insolently staring each other out of countenance. + </p> + <p> + Look at two women who are acquaintances meeting on a staircase outside the + door of a friend's drawing-room, one of them just leaving, the other about + to go in. They begin to talk to each other and block up all the landing. + If anyone happens to be coming up behind them, man or woman, do you + imagine that they will put themselves half an inch out of their way? + Never! never! + </p> + <p> + I was waiting myself, with my watch in my hands, one day last winter at a + certain drawing-room door. And, behind me, two gentlemen were also waiting + without showing any readiness, as I did, to lose their temper. The reason + was that they had long grown accustomed to our unconscionable insolence. + </p> + <p> + The other day, before leaving Paris, I went to dine with no less a person + than your husband, in the Champs Elysees, in order to enjoy the fresh air. + Every table was occupied. The waiter asked us to wait and there would soon + be a vacant table. + </p> + <p> + At that moment I noticed an elderly lady of noble figure, who, having paid + for her dinner, seemed on the point of going away. She saw me, scanned me + from head to foot, and did not budge. For more than a quarter of an hour + she sat there, immovable, putting on her gloves, and calmly staring at + those who were waiting like myself. Now, two young men who were just + finishing their dinner, having seen me in their turn, hastily summoned the + waiter, paid what they owed, and at once offered me their seats, even + insisting on standing while waiting for their change. And, bear in mind, + my fair niece, that I am no longer pretty, like you, but old and + white-haired. + </p> + <p> + It is we, you see, who should be taught politeness, and the task would be + such a difficult one that Hercules himself would not be equal to it. You + speak to me about Etretat and about the people who indulged in “tittle-tattle” + along the beach of that delightful watering-place. It is a spot now lost + to me, a thing of the past, but I found much amusement therein days gone + by. + </p> + <p> + There were only a few of us, people in good society, really good society, + and a few artists, and we all fraternized. We paid little attention to + gossip in those days. + </p> + <p> + As we had no monotonous Casino, where people only gather for show, where + they whisper, where they dance stupidly, where they succeed in thoroughly + boring one another, we sought some other way of passing our evenings + pleasantly. Now, just guess what came into the head of one of our + husbands? Nothing less than to go and dance each night in one of the + farm-houses in the neighborhood. + </p> + <p> + We started out in a group with a street-organ, generally played by Le + Poittevin, the painter, with a cotton nightcap on his head. Two men + carried lanterns. We followed in procession, laughing and chattering like + a pack of fools. + </p> + <p> + We woke up the farmer and his servant-maids and farm hands. We got them to + make onion soup (horror!), and we danced under the apple trees, to the + sound of the barrel-organ. The cocks waking up began to crow in the + darkness of the out-houses; the horses began prancing on the straw of + their stables. The cool air of the country caressed our cheeks with the + smell of grass and of new-mown hay. + </p> + <p> + How long ago it is! How long ago it is! It is thirty years since then! + </p> +<div class='pre'> +I do not want you, my darling, to come for the opening of the hunting +season. Why spoil the pleasure of our friends by inflicting on them +fashionable toilettes on this day of vigorous exercise in the country? +This is the way, child, that men are spoiled. I embrace you. Your old +aunt, + GENEVIEVE DE L. +</div> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0041"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + A WEDDING GIFT + </h2> + <p> + For a long time Jacques Bourdillere had sworn that he would never marry, + but he suddenly changed his mind. It happened suddenly, one summer, at the + seashore. + </p> + <p> + One morning as he lay stretched out on the sand, watching the women coming + out of the water, a little foot had struck him by its neatness and + daintiness. He raised his eyes and was delighted with the whole person, + although in fact he could see nothing but the ankles and the head emerging + from a flannel bathrobe carefully held closed. He was supposed to be + sensual and a fast liver. It was therefore by the mere grace of the form + that he was at first captured. Then he was held by the charm of the young + girl's sweet mind, so simple and good, as fresh as her cheeks and lips. + </p> + <p> + He was presented to the family and pleased them. He immediately fell madly + in love. When he saw Berthe Lannis in the distance, on the long yellow + stretch of sand, he would tingle to the roots of his hair. When he was + near her he would become silent, unable to speak or even to think, with a + kind of throbbing at his heart, and a buzzing in his ears, and a + bewilderment in his mind. Was that love? + </p> + <p> + He did not know or understand, but he had fully decided to have this child + for his wife. + </p> + <p> + Her parents hesitated for a long time, restrained by the young man's bad + reputation. It was said that he had an old sweetheart, one of these + binding attachments which one always believes to be broken off and yet + which always hold. + </p> + <p> + Besides, for a shorter or longer period, he loved every woman who came + within reach of his lips. + </p> + <p> + Then he settled down and refused, even once, to see the one with whom he + had lived for so long. A friend took care of this woman's pension and + assured her an income. Jacques paid, but he did not even wish to hear of + her, pretending even to ignore her name. She wrote him letters which he + never opened. Every week he would recognize the clumsy writing of the + abandoned woman, and every week a greater anger surged within him against + her, and he would quickly tear the envelope and the paper, without opening + it, without reading one single line, knowing in advance the reproaches and + complaints which it contained. + </p> + <p> + As no one had much faith in his constancy, the test was prolonged through + the winter, and Berthe's hand was not granted him until the spring. The + wedding took place in Paris at the beginning of May. + </p> + <p> + The young couple had decided not to take the conventional wedding trip, + but after a little dance for the younger cousins, which would not be + prolonged after eleven o'clock, in order that this day of lengthy + ceremonies might not be too tiresome, the young pair were to spend the + first night in the parental home and then, on the following morning, to + leave for the beach so dear to their hearts, where they had first known + and loved each other. + </p> + <p> + Night had come, and the dance was going on in the large parlor. 'The two + had retired into a little Japanese boudoir hung with bright silks and + dimly lighted by the soft rays of a large colored lantern hanging from the + ceiling like a gigantic egg. Through the open window the fresh air from + outside passed over their faces like a caress, for the night was warm and + calm, full of the odor of spring. + </p> + <p> + They were silent, holding each other's hands and from time to time + squeezing them with all their might. She sat there with a dreamy look, + feeling a little lost at this great change in her life, but smiling, + moved, ready to cry, often also almost ready to faint from joy, believing + the whole world to be changed by what had just happened to her, uneasy, + she knew not why, and feeling her whole body and soul filled with an + indefinable and delicious lassitude. + </p> + <p> + He was looking at her persistently with a fixed smile. He wished to speak, + but found nothing to say, and so sat there, expressing all his ardor by + pressures of the hand. From time to time he would murmur: “Berthe!” + And each time she would raise her eyes to him with a look of tenderness; + they would look at each other for a second and then her look, pierced and + fascinated by his, would fall. + </p> + <p> + They found no thoughts to exchange. They had been left alone, but + occasionally some of the dancers would cast a rapid glance at them, as + though they were the discreet and trusty witnesses of a mystery. + </p> + <p> + A door opened and a servant entered, holding on a tray a letter which a + messenger had just brought. Jacques, trembling, took this paper, + overwhelmed by a vague and sudden fear, the mysterious terror of swift + misfortune. + </p> + <p> + He looked for a longtime at the envelope, the writing on which he did not + know, not daring to open it, not wishing to read it, with a wild desire to + put it in his pocket and say to himself: “I'll leave that till + to-morrow, when I'm far away!” But on one corner two big words, + underlined, “Very urgent,” filled him with terror. Saying, + “Please excuse me, my dear,” he tore open the envelope. He + read the paper, grew frightfully pale, looked over it again, and, slowly, + he seemed to spell it out word for word. + </p> + <p> + When he raised his head his whole expression showed how upset he was. He + stammered: “My dear, it's—it's from my best friend, who has + had a very great misfortune. He has need of me immediately—for a + matter of life or death. Will you excuse me if I leave you for half an + hour? I'll be right back.” + </p> + <p> + Trembling and dazed, she stammered: “Go, my dear!” not having + been his wife long enough to dare to question him, to demand to know. He + disappeared. She remained alone, listening to the dancing in the + neighboring parlor. + </p> + <p> + He had seized the first hat and coat he came to and rushed downstairs + three steps at a time. As he was emerging into the street he stopped under + the gas-jet of the vestibule and reread the letter. This is what it said: + </p> +<div class='pre'> + SIR: A girl by the name of Ravet, an old sweetheart of yours, it + seems, has just given birth to a child that she says is yours. The + mother is about to die and is begging for you. I take the liberty to + write and ask you if you can grant this last request to a woman who + seems to be very unhappy and worthy of pity. + Yours truly, DR. BONNARD. +</div> + <p> + When he reached the sick-room the woman was already on the point of death. + He did not recognize her at first. The doctor and two nurses were taking + care of her. And everywhere on the floor were pails full of ice and rags + covered with blood. Water flooded the carpet; two candles were burning on + a bureau; behind the bed, in a little wicker crib, the child was crying, + and each time it would moan the mother, in torture, would try to move, + shivering under her ice bandages. + </p> + <p> + She was mortally wounded, killed by this birth. Her life was flowing from + her, and, notwithstanding the ice and the care, the merciless hemorrhage + continued, hastening her last hour. + </p> + <p> + She recognized Jacques and wished to raise her arms. They were so weak + that she could not do so, but tears coursed down her pallid cheeks. He + dropped to his knees beside the bed, seized one of her hands and kissed it + frantically. Then, little by little, he drew close to the thin face, which + started at the contact. One of the nurses was lighting them with a candle, + and the doctor was watching them from the back of the room. + </p> + <p> + Then she said in a voice which sounded as though it came from a distance: + “I am going to die, dear. Promise to stay to the end. Oh! don't + leave me now. Don't leave me in my last moments!” + </p> + <p> + He kissed her face and her hair, and, weeping, he murmured: “Do not + be uneasy; I will stay.” + </p> + <p> + It was several minutes before she could speak again, she was so weak. She + continued: “The little one is yours. I swear it before God and on my + soul. I swear it as I am dying! I have never loved another man but you + —promise to take care of the child.” + </p> + <p> + He was trying to take this poor pain-racked body in his arms. Maddened by + remorse and sorrow, he stammered: “I swear to you that I will bring + him up and love him. He shall never leave me.” + </p> + <p> + Then she tried to kiss Jacques. Powerless to lift her head, she held out + her white lips in an appeal for a kiss. He approached his lips to respond + to this piteous entreaty. + </p> + <p> + As soon as she felt a little calmer, she murmured: “Bring him here + and let me see if you love him.” + </p> + <p> + He went and got the child. He placed him gently on the bed between them, + and the little one stopped crying. She murmured: “Don't move any + more!” And he was quiet. And he stayed there, holding in his burning + hand this other hand shaking in the chill of death, just as, a while ago, + he had been holding a hand trembling with love. From time to time he would + cast a quick glance at the clock, which marked midnight, then one o'clock, + then two. + </p> + <p> + The physician had returned. The two nurses, after noiselessly moving about + the room for a while, were now sleeping on chairs. The child was asleep, + and the mother, with eyes shut, appeared also to be resting. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly, just as pale daylight was creeping in behind the curtains, she + stretched out her arms with such a quick and violent motion that she + almost threw her baby on the floor. A kind of rattle was heard in her + throat, then she lay on her back motionless, dead. + </p> + <p> + The nurses sprang forward and declared: “All is over!” + </p> + <p> + He looked once more at this woman whom he had so loved, then at the clock, + which pointed to four, and he ran away, forgetting his overcoat, in the + evening dress, with the child in his arms. + </p> + <p> + After he had left her alone the young wife had waited, calmly enough at + first, in the little Japanese boudoir. Then, as she did not see him + return, she went back to the parlor with an indifferent and calm + appearance, but terribly anxious. When her mother saw her alone she asked: + “Where is your husband?” She answered: “In his room; he + is coming right back.” + </p> + <p> + After an hour, when everybody had questioned her, she told about the + letter, Jacques' upset appearance and her fears of an accident. + </p> + <p> + Still they waited. The guests left; only the nearest relatives remained. + At midnight the bride was put to bed, sobbing bitterly. Her mother and two + aunts, sitting around the bed, listened to her crying, silent and in + despair. The father had gone to the commissary of police to see if he + could obtain some news. + </p> + <p> + At five o'clock a slight noise was heard in the hall. A door was softly + opened and closed. Then suddenly a little cry like the mewing of a cat was + heard throughout the silent house. + </p> + <p> + All the women started forward and Berthe sprang ahead of them all, pushing + her way past her aunts, wrapped in a bathrobe. + </p> + <p> + Jacques stood in the middle of the room, pale and out of breath, holding + an infant in his arms. The four women looked at him, astonished; but + Berthe, who had suddenly become courageous, rushed forward with anguish in + her heart, exclaiming: “What is it? What's the matter?” + </p> + <p> + He looked about him wildly and answered shortly: + </p> + <p> + “I—I have a child and the mother has just died.” + </p> + <p> + And with his clumsy hands he held out the screaming infant. + </p> + <p> + Without saying a word, Berthe seized the child, kissed it and hugged it to + her. Then she raised her tear-filled eyes to him, asking: “Did you + say that the mother was dead?” He answered: “Yes—just + now—in my arms. I had broken with her since summer. I knew nothing. + The physician sent for me.” + </p> + <p> + Then Berthe murmured: “Well, we will bring up the little one.” + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0042"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + THE RELIC + </h2> + <div class='ph3'> + “To the Abbe Louis d'Ennemare, at Soissons. + </div> + <p> + “My Dear Abbe. + </p> + <p> + “My marriage with your cousin is broken off in the most stupid way, + all on account of an idiotic trick which I almost involuntarily played my + intended. In my perplexity I turn to you, my old school chum, for you may + be able to help me out of the difficulty. If you can, I shall be grateful + to you until I die. + </p> + <p> + “You know Gilberte, or, rather, you think you know her, but do we + ever understand women? All their opinions, their ideas, their creeds, are + a surprise to us. They are all full of twists and turns, cf the + unforeseen, of unintelligible arguments, of defective logic and of + obstinate ideas, which seem final, but which they alter because a little + bird came and perched on the window ledge. + </p> + <p> + “I need not tell you that your cousin is very religious, as she was + brought up by the White (or was it the Black?) Ladies at Nancy. You know + that better than I do, but what you perhaps do not know is, that she is + just as excitable about other matters as she is about religion. Her head + flies away, just as a leaf is whirled away by the wind; and she is a true + woman, or, rather, girl, for she is moved or made angry in a moment, + starting off at a gallop in affection, just as she does in hatred, and + returning in the same manner; and she is pretty—as you know, and + more charming than I can say—as you will never know. + </p> + <p> + “Well, we became engaged, and I adored her, as I adore her still, + and she appeared to love me. + </p> + <p> + “One evening, I received a telegram summoning me to Cologne for a + consultation, which might be followed by a serious and difficult + operation, and as I had to start the next morning, I went to wish Gilberte + good-by, and tell her why I could not dine with them on Wednesday, but + would do so on Friday, the day of my return. Ah! Beware of Fridays, for I + assure you they are unlucky! + </p> + <p> + “When I told her that I had to go to Germany, I saw that her eyes + filled with tears, but when I said I should be back very soon, she clapped + her hands, and said: + </p> + <p> + “'I am very glad you are going, then! You must bring me back + something; a mere trifle, just a souvenir, but a souvenir that you have + chosen for me. You must guess what I should like best, do you hear? And + then I shall see whether you have any imagination.' + </p> + <p> + “She thought for a few moments, and then added: + </p> + <p> + “'I forbid you to spend more than twenty francs on it. I want it for + the intention, and for a remembrance of your penetration, and not for its + intrinsic value: + </p> + <p> + “And then, after another moment's silence, she said, in a low voice, + and with downcast eyes: + </p> + <p> + “'If it costs you nothing in money, but is something very ingenious + and pretty, I will—I will kiss you.' + </p> + <p> + “The next day I was in Cologne. It was a case of a terrible + accident, which had plunged a whole family into despair, and a difficult + amputation was necessary. They lodged me in the house; I might say, they + almost locked me up, and I saw nobody but people in tears, who almost + deafened me with their lamentations; I operated on a man who appeared to + be in a moribund state, and who nearly died under my hands, and with whom + I remained two nights; and then, when I saw that there was a chance of his + recovery, I drove to the station. I had, however, made a mistake in the + trains, and I had an hour to wait, and so I wandered about the streets, + still thinking of my poor patient, when a man accosted me. I do not know + German, and he was totally ignorant of French, but at last I made out that + he was offering me some relics. I thought of Gilberte, for I knew her + fanatical devotion, and here was my present ready to hand, so I followed + the man into a shop where religious objects were for sale, and I bought a + small piece of a bone of one of the Eleven Thousand Virgins. + </p> + <p> + “The pretended relic was inclosed in a charming old silver box, and + that determined my choice, and, putting my purchase into my pocket, I went + to the railway station, and so on to Paris. + </p> + <p> + “As soon as I got home, I wished to examine my purchase again, and + on taking hold of it, I found that the box was open, and the relic + missing! I searched in vain in my pocket, and turned it inside out; the + small bit of bone, which was no bigger than half a pin, had disappeared. + </p> + <p> + “You know, my dear little Abbe, that my faith is not very fervent, + but, as my friend, you are magnanimous enough to put up with my + lukewarmness, and to leave me alone, and to wait for the future, so you + say. But I absolutely disbelieve in the relics of secondhand dealers in + piety, and you share my doubts in that respect. Therefore, the loss of + that bit of sheep's carcass did not grieve me, and I easily procured a + similar fragment, which I carefully fastened inside my jewel-box, and then + I went to see my intended. + </p> + <p> + “As soon as she saw me, she ran up to me, smiling and eager, and, + said to me: + </p> + <p> + “'What have you brought me?' + </p> + <p> + “I pretended to have forgotten, but she did not believe me, and I + made her beg, and even beseech me. But when I saw that she was devoured by + curiosity, I gave her the sacred silver box. She appeared overjoyed. + </p> + <p> + “'A relic! Oh! A relic!' + </p> + <p> + “And she kissed the box passionately, so that I was ashamed of my + deception. She was not quite satisfied, however, and her uneasiness soon + turned to terrible fear, and looking straight into my eyes, she said: + </p> + <p> + “'Are you sure-that it is genuine?' + </p> + <p> + “'Absolutely certain.' + </p> + <p> + “'How can you be so certain?' + </p> + <p> + “I was trapped; for to say that I had bought it of a man in the + streets would be my destruction. What was I to say? A wild idea struck me, + and I said, in a low, mysterious voice: + </p> + <p> + “'I stole it for you.' + </p> + <p> + “She looked at me with astonishment and delight in her large eyes. + </p> + <p> + “'Oh! You stole it? Where?' + </p> + <p> + “'In the cathedral; in the very shrine of the Eleven Thousand + Virgins.' + </p> + <p> + “Her heart beat with pleasure, and she murmured: + </p> + <p> + “'Oh! Did you really do that-for me? Tell me-all about it!' + </p> + <p> + “That was the climax; I could not retract what I had said. I made up + a fanciful story; with precise details: I had given the custodian of the + building a hundred francs to be allowed to go about the building by + myself; the shrine was being repaired, but I happened to be there at the + breakfast hour of the workmen and clergy; by removing a small panel, I had + been enabled to seize a small piece of bone (oh! so small), among a + quantity of others (I said a quantity, as I thought of the amount that the + remains of the skeletons of eleven thousand virgins must produce). Then I + went to a goldsmith's and bought a casket worthy of the relic; and I was + not sorry to let her know that the silver box cost me five hundred francs. + </p> + <p> + “But she did not think of that; she listened to me, trembling, in an + ecstasy, and whispering: 'How I love you!' she threw herself into my arms. + </p> + <p> + “Just note this: I had committed sacrilege for her sake. I had + committed a theft; I had violated a church; I had violated a shrine; + violated and stolen holy relics, and for that she adored me, thought me + perfect, tender, divine. Such is woman, my dear Abbe, every woman. + </p> + <p> + “For two months I was the most admirable of lovers. In her room, she + had made a kind of magnificent chapel in which to keep this bit of mutton + chop, which, as she thought, had made me commit that divine love-crime, + and she worked up her religious enthusiasm in front of it every morning + and evening. I had asked her to keep the matter secret, for fear, as I + said, that I might be arrested, condemned, and given over to Germany, and + she kept her promise. + </p> + <p> + “Well, at the beginning of the summer, she was seized with an + irresistible desire to see the scene of my exploit, and she teased her + father so persistently (without telling him her secret reason), that he + took her to Cologne, but without telling me of their trip, according to + his daughter's wish. + </p> + <p> + “I need not tell you that I had not seen the interior of the + cathedral. I do not know where the tomb (if there be a tomb) of the Eleven + Thousand Virgins is; and then, it appears, it is unapproachable, alas! + </p> + <p> + “A week afterward, I received ten lines, breaking off our + engagement, and then an explanatory letter from her father, whom she had, + somewhat late, taken into her confidence. + </p> + <p> + “At the sight of the shrine, she had suddenly seen through my + trickery and my lie, and at the same time discovered my real innocence of + any crime. Having asked the keeper of the relics whether any robbery had + been committed, the man began to laugh, and pointed out to them how + impossible such a crime was. But, from the moment that I had not plunged + my profane hand into venerable relics, I was no longer worthy of my + fair-haired, sensitive betrothed. + </p> + <p> + “I was forbidden the house; I begged and prayed in vain; nothing + could move the fair devotee, and I became ill from grief. Well, last week, + her cousin, Madame d'Arville, who is your cousin also, sent me word that + she should like to see me, and when I called, she told me on what + conditions I might obtain my pardon, and here they are. I must bring her a + relic, a real, authentic relic of some virgin and martyr, certified to be + such by our Holy Father, the Pope, and I am going mad from embarrassment + and anxiety. + </p> + <p> + “I will go to Rome, if needful, but I cannot call on the Pope + unexpectedly, to tell him my stupid misadventure; and, besides, I doubt + whether they allow private individuals to have relics. Could not you give + me an introduction to some cardinal, or even to some French prelate who + possesses some remains of a female saint? Or, perhaps, you may have the + precious object she wants in your collection? + </p> + <p> + “Help me out of my difficulty, my dear Abbe, and I promise you that + I will be converted ten years sooner than I otherwise should be! + </p> + <p> + “Madame d'Arville, who takes the matter seriously, said to me the + other day: + </p> + <p> + “'Poor Gilberte will never marry.' + </p> + <p> + “My dear old schoolmate, will you allow your cousin to die the + victim of a stupid piece of subterfuge on my part? Pray prevent her from + being virgin eleven thousand and one. + </p> + <p> + “Pardon me, I am unworthy, but I embrace you, and love you with all + my heart. + </p> +<div class='pre'> +“Your old friend, + “HENRI FONTAL.” + </div> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0043"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + ORIGINAL SHORT STORIES, Vol. 4. + </h2> +<div class='pre'> + GUY DE MAUPASSANT + ORIGINAL SHORT STORIES + Translated by + ALBERT M. C. McMASTER, B.A. + A. E. HENDERSON, B.A. + MME. QUESADA and Others +</div> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0044"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + VOLUME IV. + </h2> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0045"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + THE MORIBUND + </h2> + <p> + The warm autumn sun was beating down on the farmyard. Under the grass, + which had been cropped close by the cows, the earth soaked by recent + rains, was soft and sank in under the feet with a soggy noise, and the + apple trees, loaded with apples, were dropping their pale green fruit in + the dark green grass. + </p> + <p> + Four young heifers, tied in a line, were grazing and at times looking + toward the house and lowing. The fowls made a colored patch on the + dung-heap before the stable, scratching, moving about and cackling, while + two roosters crowed continually, digging worms for their hens, whom they + were calling with a loud clucking. + </p> + <p> + The wooden gate opened and a man entered. He might have been forty years + old, but he looked at least sixty, wrinkled, bent, walking slowly, impeded + by the weight of heavy wooden shoes full of straw. His long arms hung down + on both sides of his body. When he got near the farm a yellow cur, tied at + the foot of an enormous pear tree, beside a barrel which served as his + kennel, began at first to wag his tail and then to bark for joy. The man + cried: + </p> + <p> + “Down, Finot!” + </p> + <p> + The dog was quiet. + </p> + <p> + A peasant woman came out of the house. Her large, flat, bony body was + outlined under a long woollen jacket drawn in at the waist. A gray skirt, + too short, fell to the middle of her legs, which were encased in blue + stockings. She, too, wore wooden shoes, filled with straw. The white cap, + turned yellow, covered a few hairs which were plastered to the scalp, and + her brown, thin, ugly, toothless face had that wild, animal expression + which is often to be found on the faces of the peasants. + </p> + <p> + The man asked: + </p> + <p> + “How is he gettin' along?” + </p> + <p> + The woman answered: + </p> + <p> + “The priest said it's the end—that he will never live through + the night.” + </p> + <p> + Both of them went into the house. + </p> + <p> + After passing through the kitchen, they entered a low, dark room, barely + lighted by one window, in front of which a piece of calico was hanging. + The big beams, turned brown with age and smoke, crossed the room from one + side to the other, supporting the thin floor of the garret, where an army + of rats ran about day and night. + </p> + <p> + The moist, lumpy earthen floor looked greasy, and, at the back of the + room, the bed made an indistinct white spot. A harsh, regular noise, a + difficult, hoarse, wheezing breathing, like the gurgling of water from a + broken pump, came from the darkened couch where an old man, the father of + the peasant woman, was dying. + </p> + <p> + The man and the woman approached the dying man and looked at him with + calm, resigned eyes. + </p> + <p> + The son-in-law said: + </p> + <p> + “I guess it's all up with him this time; he will not last the night.” + </p> + <p> + The woman answered: + </p> + <p> + “He's been gurglin' like that ever since midday.” They were + silent. The father's eyes were closed, his face was the color of the earth + and so dry that it looked like wood. Through his open mouth came his + harsh, rattling breath, and the gray linen sheet rose and fell with each + respiration. + </p> + <p> + The son-in-law, after a long silence, said: + </p> + <p> + “There's nothing more to do; I can't help him. It's a nuisance, just + the same, because the weather is good and we've got a lot of work to do.” + </p> + <p> + His wife seemed annoyed at this idea. She reflected a few moments and then + said: + </p> + <p> + “He won't be buried till Saturday, and that will give you all day + tomorrow.” + </p> + <p> + The peasant thought the matter over and answered: + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but to-morrow I'll have to invite the people to the funeral. + That means five or six hours to go round to Tourville and Manetot, and to + see everybody.” + </p> + <p> + The woman, after meditating two or three minutes, declared: + </p> + <p> + “It isn't three o'clock yet. You could begin this evening and go all + round the country to Tourville. You can just as well say that he's dead, + seem' as he's as good as that now.” + </p> + <p> + The man stood perplexed for a while, weighing the pros and cons of the + idea. At last he declared: + </p> + <p> + “Well, I'll go!” + </p> + <p> + He was leaving the room, but came back after a minute's hesitation: + </p> + <p> + “As you haven't got anythin' to do you might shake down some apples + to bake and make four dozen dumplings for those who come to the funeral, + for one must have something to cheer them. You can light the fire with the + wood that's under the shed. It's dry.” + </p> + <p> + He left the room, went back into the kitchen, opened the cupboard, took + out a six-pound loaf of bread, cut off a slice, and carefully gathered the + crumbs in the palm of his hand and threw them into his mouth, so as not to + lose anything. Then, with the end of his knife, he scraped out a little + salt butter from the bottom of an earthen jar, spread it on his bread and + began to eat slowly, as he did everything. + </p> + <p> + He recrossed the farmyard, quieted the dog, which had started barking + again, went out on the road bordering on his ditch, and disappeared in the + direction of Tourville. + </p> + <p> + As soon as she was alone, the woman began to work. She uncovered the + meal-bin and made the dough for the dumplings. She kneaded it a long time, + turning it over and over again, punching, pressing, crushing it. Finally + she made a big, round, yellow-white ball, which she placed on the corner + of the table. + </p> + <p> + Then she went to get her apples, and, in order not to injure the tree with + a pole, she climbed up into it by a ladder. She chose the fruit with care, + only taking the ripe ones, and gathering them in her apron. + </p> + <p> + A voice called from the road: + </p> + <p> + “Hey, Madame Chicot!” + </p> + <p> + She turned round. It was a neighbor, Osime Favet, the mayor, on his way to + fertilize his fields, seated on the manure-wagon, with his feet hanging + over the side. She turned round and answered: + </p> + <p> + “What can I do for you, Maitre Osime?” + </p> + <p> + “And how is the father?” + </p> + <p> + She cried: + </p> + <p> + “He is as good as dead. The funeral is Saturday at seven, because + there's lots of work to be done.” + </p> + <p> + The neighbor answered: + </p> + <p> + “So! Good luck to you! Take care of yourself.” + </p> + <p> + To his kind remarks she answered:” + </p> + <p> + “Thanks; the same to you.” + </p> + <p> + And she continued picking apples. + </p> + <p> + When she went back to the house, she went over to look at her father, + expecting to find him dead. But as soon as she reached the door she heard + his monotonous, noisy rattle, and, thinking it a waste of time to go over + to him, she began to prepare her dumplings. She wrapped up the fruit, one + by one, in a thin layer of paste, then she lined them up on the edge of + the table. When she had made forty-eight dumplings, arranged in dozens, + one in front of the other, she began to think of preparing supper, and she + hung her kettle over the fire to cook potatoes, for she judged it useless + to heat the oven that day, as she had all the next day in which to finish + the preparations. + </p> + <p> + Her husband returned at about five. As soon as he had crossed the + threshold he asked: + </p> + <p> + “Is it over?” + </p> + <p> + She answered: + </p> + <p> + “Not yet; he's still gurglin'.” + </p> + <p> + They went to look at him. The old man was in exactly the same condition. + His hoarse rattle, as regular as the ticking of a clock, was neither + quicker nor slower. It returned every second, the tone varying a little, + according as the air entered or left his chest. + </p> + <p> + His son-in-law looked at him and then said: + </p> + <p> + “He'll pass away without our noticin' it, just like a candle.” + </p> + <p> + They returned to the kitchen and started to eat without saying a word. + When they had swallowed their soup, they ate another piece of bread and + butter. Then, as soon as the dishes were washed, they returned to the + dying man. + </p> + <p> + The woman, carrying a little lamp with a smoky wick, held it in front of + her father's face. If he had not been breathing, one would certainly have + thought him dead. + </p> + <p> + The couple's bed was hidden in a little recess at the other end of the + room. Silently they retired, put out the light, closed their eyes, and + soon two unequal snores, one deep and the other shriller, accompanied the + uninterrupted rattle of the dying man. + </p> + <p> + The rats ran about in the garret. + </p> + <p> + The husband awoke at the first streaks of dawn. His father-in-law was + still alive. He shook his wife, worried by the tenacity of the old man. + </p> + <p> + “Say, Phemie, he don't want to quit. What would you do?” + </p> + <p> + He knew that she gave good advice. + </p> + <p> + She answered: + </p> + <p> + “You needn't be afraid; he can't live through the day. And the mayor + won't stop our burying him to-morrow, because he allowed it for Maitre + Renard's father, who died just during the planting season.” + </p> + <p> + He was convinced by this argument, and left for the fields. + </p> + <p> + His wife baked the dumplings and then attended to her housework. + </p> + <p> + At noon the old man was not dead. The people hired for the day's work came + by groups to look at him. Each one had his say. Then they left again for + the fields. + </p> + <p> + At six o'clock, when the work was over, the father was still breathing. At + last his son-in-law was frightened. + </p> + <p> + “What would you do now, Phemie?” + </p> + <p> + She no longer knew how to solve the problem. They went to the mayor. He + promised that he would close his eyes and authorize the funeral for the + following day. They also went to the health officer, who likewise + promised, in order to oblige Maitre Chicot, to antedate the death + certificate. The man and the woman returned, feeling more at ease. + </p> + <p> + They went to bed and to sleep, just as they did the preceding day, their + sonorous breathing blending with the feeble breathing of the old man. + </p> + <p> + When they awoke, he was not yet dead. + </p> + <p> + Then they began to be frightened. They stood by their father, watching him + with distrust, as though he had wished to play them a mean trick, to + deceive them, to annoy them on purpose, and they were vexed at him for the + time which he was making them lose. + </p> + <p> + The son-in-law asked: + </p> + <p> + “What am I goin' to do?” + </p> + <p> + She did not know. She answered: + </p> + <p> + “It certainly is annoying!” + </p> + <p> + The guests who were expected could not be notified. They decided to wait + and explain the case to them. + </p> + <p> + Toward a quarter to seven the first ones arrived. The women in black, + their heads covered with large veils, looking very sad. Then men, ill at + ease in their homespun coats, were coming forward more slowly, in couples, + talking business. + </p> + <p> + Maitre Chicot and his wife, bewildered, received them sorrowfully, and + suddenly both of them together began to cry as they approached the first + group. They explained the matter, related their difficulty, offered + chairs, bustled about, tried to make excuses, attempting to prove that + everybody would have done as they did, talking continually and giving + nobody a chance to answer. + </p> + <p> + They were going from one person to another: + </p> + <p> + “I never would have thought it; it's incredible how he can last this + long!” + </p> + <p> + The guests, taken aback, a little disappointed, as though they had missed + an expected entertainment, did not know what to do, some remaining seated + others standing. Several wished to leave. Maitre Chicot held them back: + </p> + <p> + “You must take something, anyhow! We made some dumplings; might as + well make use of 'em.” + </p> + <p> + The faces brightened at this idea. The yard was filling little by little; + the early arrivals were telling the news to those who had arrived later. + Everybody was whispering. The idea of the dumplings seemed to cheer + everyone up. + </p> + <p> + The women went in to take a look at the dying man. They crossed themselves + beside the bed, muttered a prayer and went out again. The men, less + anxious for this spectacle, cast a look through the window, which had been + opened. + </p> + <p> + Madame Chicot explained her distress: + </p> + <p> + “That's how he's been for two days, neither better nor worse. + Doesn't he sound like a pump that has gone dry?” + </p> + <p> + When everybody had had a look at the dying man, they thought of the + refreshments; but as there were too many people for the kitchen to hold, + the table was moved out in front of the door. The four dozen golden + dumplings, tempting and appetizing, arranged in two big dishes, attracted + the eyes of all. Each one reached out to take his, fearing that there + would not be enough. But four remained over. + </p> + <p> + Maitre Chicot, his mouth full, said: + </p> + <p> + “Father would feel sad if he were to see this. He loved them so much + when he was alive.” + </p> + <p> + A big, jovial peasant declared: + </p> + <p> + “He won't eat any more now. Each one in his turn.” + </p> + <p> + This remark, instead of making the guests sad, seemed to cheer them up. It + was their turn now to eat dumplings. + </p> + <p> + Madame Chicot, distressed at the expense, kept running down to the cellar + continually for cider. The pitchers were emptied in quick succession. The + company was laughing and talking loud now. They were beginning to shout as + they do at feasts. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly an old peasant woman who had stayed beside the dying man, held + there by a morbid fear of what would soon happen to herself, appeared at + the window and cried in a shrill voice: + </p> + <p> + “He's dead! he's dead!” + </p> + <p> + Everybody was silent. The women arose quickly to go and see. He was indeed + dead. The rattle had ceased. The men looked at each other, looking down, + ill at ease. They hadn't finished eating the dumplings. Certainly the + rascal had not chosen a propitious moment. The Chicots were no longer + weeping. It was over; they were relieved. + </p> + <p> + They kept repeating: + </p> + <p> + “I knew it couldn't 'last. If he could only have done it last night, + it would have saved us all this trouble.” + </p> + <p> + Well, anyhow, it was over. They would bury him on Monday, that was all, + and they would eat some more dumplings for the occasion. + </p> + <p> + The guests went away, talking the matter over, pleased at having had the + chance to see him and of getting something to eat. + </p> + <p> + And when the husband and wife were alone, face to face, she said, her face + distorted with grief: + </p> + <p> + “We'll have to bake four dozen more dumplings! Why couldn't he have + made up his mind last night?” + </p> + <p> + The husband, more resigned, answered: + </p> + <p> + “Well, we'll not have to do this every day.” + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0046"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + THE GAMEKEEPER + </h2> + <p> + It was after dinner, and we were talking about adventures and accidents + which happened while out shooting. + </p> + <p> + An old friend, known to all of us, M. Boniface, a great sportsman and a + connoisseur of wine, a man of wonderful physique, witty and gay, and + endowed with an ironical and resigned philosophy, which manifested itself + in caustic humor, and never in melancholy, suddenly exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “I know a story, or rather a tragedy, which is somewhat peculiar. It + is not at all like those which one hears of usually, and I have never told + it, thinking that it would interest no one. + </p> + <p> + “It is not at all sympathetic. I mean by that, that it does not + arouse the kind of interest which pleases or which moves one agreeably. + </p> + <p> + “Here is the story: + </p> + <p> + “I was then about thirty-five years of age, and a most enthusiastic + sportsman. + </p> + <p> + “In those days I owned a lonely bit of property in the neighborhood + of Jumieges, surrounded by forests and abounding in hares and rabbits. I + was accustomed to spending four or five days alone there each year, there + not being room enough to allow of my bringing a friend with me. + </p> + <p> + “I had placed there as gamekeeper, an old retired gendarme, a good + man, hot-tempered, a severe disciplinarian, a terror to poachers and + fearing nothing. He lived all alone, far from the village, in a little + house, or rather hut, consisting of two rooms downstairs, with kitchen and + store-room, and two upstairs. One of them, a kind of box just large enough + to accommodate a bed, a cupboard and a chair, was reserved for my use. + </p> + <p> + “Old man Cavalier lived in the other one. When I said that he was + alone in this place, I was wrong. He had taken his nephew with him, a + young scamp about fourteen years old, who used to go to the village and + run errands for the old man. + </p> + <p> + “This young scapegrace was long and lanky, with yellow hair, so + light that it resembled the fluff of a plucked chicken, so thin that he + seemed bald. Besides this, he had enormous feet and the hands of a giant. + </p> + <p> + “He was cross-eyed, and never looked at anyone. He struck me as + being in the same relation to the human race as ill-smelling beasts are to + the animal race. He reminded me of a polecat. + </p> + <p> + “He slept in a kind of hole at the top of the stairs which led to + the two rooms. + </p> + <p> + “But during my short sojourns at the Pavilion—so I called the + hut —Marius would give up his nook to an old woman from + Ecorcheville, called Celeste, who used to come and cook for me, as old man + Cavalier's stews were not sufficient for my healthy appetite. + </p> + <p> + “You now know the characters and the locality. Here is the story: + </p> + <p> + “It was on the fifteenth of October, 1854—I shall remember + that date as long as I live. + </p> + <p> + “I left Rouen on horseback, followed by my dog Bock, a big Dalmatian + hound from Poitou, full-chested and with a heavy jaw, which could retrieve + among the bushes like a Pont-Andemer spaniel. + </p> + <p> + “I was carrying my satchel slung across my back and my gun + diagonally across my chest. It was a cold, windy, gloomy day, with clouds + scurrying across the sky. + </p> + <p> + “As I went up the hill at Canteleu, I looked over the broad valley + of the Seine, the river winding in and out along its course as far as the + eye could see. To the right the towers of Rouen stood out against the sky, + and to the left the landscape was bounded by the distant slopes covered + with trees. Then I crossed the forest of Roumare and, toward five o'clock, + reached the Pavilion, where Cavalier and Celeste were expecting me. + </p> + <p> + “For ten years I had appeared there at the same time, in the same + manner; and for ten years the same faces had greeted me with the same + words: + </p> + <p> + “'Welcome, master! We hope your health is good.' + </p> + <p> + “Cavalier had hardly changed. He withstood time like an old tree; + but Celeste, especially in the past four years, had become unrecognizable. + </p> + <p> + “She was bent almost double, and, although still active, when she + walked her body was almost at right angles to her legs. + </p> + <p> + “The old woman, who was very devoted to me, always seemed affected + at seeing me again, and each time, as I left, she would say: + </p> + <p> + “'This may be the last time, master.' + </p> + <p> + “The sad, timid farewell of this old servant, this hopeless + resignation to the inevitable fate which was not far off for her, moved me + strangely each year. + </p> + <p> + “I dismounted, and while Cavalier, whom I had greeted, was leading + my horse to the little shed which served as a stable, I entered the + kitchen, which also served as dining-room, followed by Celeste. + </p> + <p> + “Here the gamekeeper joined us. I saw at first glance that something + was the matter. He seemed preoccupied, ill at ease, worried. + </p> + <p> + “I said to him: + </p> + <p> + “'Well, Cavalier, is everything all right?' + </p> + <p> + “He muttered: + </p> + <p> + “'Yes and no. There are things I don't like.' + </p> + <p> + “I asked: + </p> + <p> + “'What? Tell me about it.' + </p> + <p> + “But he shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “'No, not yet, monsieur. I do not wish to bother you with my little + troubles so soon after your arrival.' + </p> + <p> + “I insisted, but he absolutely refused to give me any information + before dinner. From his expression, I could tell that it was something + very serious. + </p> + <p> + “Not knowing what to say to him, I asked: + </p> + <p> + “'How about game? Much of it this year?' + </p> + <p> + “'Oh, yes! You'll find all you want. Thank heaven, I looked out for + that.' + </p> + <p> + “He said this with so much seriousness, with such sad solemnity, + that it was really almost funny. His big gray mustache seemed almost ready + to drop from his lips. + </p> + <p> + “Suddenly I remembered that I had not yet seen his nephew. + </p> + <p> + “'Where is Marius? Why does he not show himself?' + </p> + <p> + “The gamekeeper started, looking me suddenly in the face: + </p> + <p> + “Well, monsieur, I had rather tell you the whole business right + away; it's on account of him that I am worrying.' + </p> + <p> + “'Ah! Well, where is he?' + </p> + <p> + “'Over in the stable, monsieur. I was waiting for the right time to + bring him out.' + </p> + <p> + “'What has he done?' + </p> + <p> + “'Well, monsieur——' + </p> + <p> + “The gamekeeper, however, hesitated, his voice altered and shaky, + his face suddenly furrowed by the deep lines of an old man. + </p> + <p> + “He continued slowly: + </p> + <p> + “'Well, I found out, last winter, that someone was poaching in the + woods of Roseraies, but I couldn't seem to catch the man. I spent night + after night on the lookout for him. In vain. During that time they began + poaching over by Ecorcheville. I was growing thin from vexation. But as + for catching the trespasser, impossible! One might have thought that the + rascal was forewarned of my plans. + </p> + <p> + “'But one day, while I was brushing Marius' Sunday trousers, I found + forty cents in his pocket. Where did he get it? + </p> + <p> + “'I thought the matter over for about a week, and I noticed that he + used to go out; he would leave the house just as I was coming home to go + to bed—yes, monsieur. + </p> + <p> + “'Then I started to watch him, without the slightest suspicion of + the real facts. One morning, just after I had gone to bed before him, I + got right up again, and followed him. For shadowing a man, there is nobody + like me, monsieur. + </p> + <p> + “'And I caught him, Marius, poaching on your land, monsieur; he my + nephew, I your keeper! + </p> + <p> + “'The blood rushed to my head, and I almost killed him on the spot, + I hit him so hard. Oh! yes, I thrashed him all right. And I promised him + that he would get another beating from my hand, in your presence, as an + example. + </p> + <p> + “'There! I have grown thin from sorrow. You know how it is when one + is worried like that. But tell me, what would you have done? The boy has + no father or mother, and I am the last one of his blood; I kept him, I + couldn't drive him out, could I? + </p> + <p> + “'I told him that if it happened again I would have no more pity for + him, all would be over. There! Did I do right, monsieur?' + </p> + <p> + “I answered, holding out my hand: + </p> + <p> + “'You did well, Cavalier; you are an honest man.' + </p> + <p> + “He rose. + </p> + <p> + “'Thank you, monsieur. Now I am going to fetch him. I must give him + his thrashing, as an example.' + </p> + <p> + “I knew that it was hopeless to try and turn the old man from his + idea. I therefore let him have his own way. + </p> + <p> + “He got the rascal and brought him back by the ear. + </p> + <p> + “I was seated on a cane chair, with the solemn expression of a + judge. + </p> + <p> + “Marius seemed to have grown; he was homelier even than the year + before, with his evil, sneaking expression. + </p> + <p> + “His big hands seemed gigantic. + </p> + <p> + “His uncle pushed him up to me, and, in his soldierly voice, said: + </p> + <p> + “'Beg the gentleman's pardon.' + </p> + <p> + “The boy didn't say a word. + </p> + <p> + “Then putting one arm round him, the former gendarme lifted him + right off the ground, and began to whack him with such force that I rose + to stop the blows. + </p> + <p> + “The boy was now howling: 'Mercy! mercy! mercy! I promise——' + </p> + <p> + “Cavalier put him back on the ground and forced him to his knees: + </p> + <p> + “'Beg for pardon,' he said. + </p> + <p> + “With eyes lowered, the scamp murmured: + </p> + <p> + “'I ask for pardon!' + </p> + <p> + “Then his uncle lifted him to his feet, and dismissed him with a + cuff which almost knocked him down again. + </p> + <p> + “He made his escape, and I did not see him again that evening. + </p> + <p> + “Cavalier appeared overwhelmed.' + </p> + <p> + “'He is a bad egg,' he said. + </p> + <p> + “And throughout the whole dinner, he kept repeating: + </p> + <p> + “'Oh! that worries me, monsieur, that worries me.' + </p> + <p> + “I tried to comfort him, but in vain. + </p> + <p> + “I went to bed early, so that I might start out at daybreak. + </p> + <p> + “My dog was already asleep on the floor, at the foot of my bed, when + I put out the light. + </p> + <p> + “I was awakened toward midnight by the furious barking of my dog + Bock. I immediately noticed that my room was full of smoke. I jumped out + of bed, struck a light, ran to the door and opened it. A cloud of flames + burst in. The house was on fire. + </p> + <p> + “I quickly closed the heavy oak door and, drawing on my trousers, I + first lowered the dog through the window, by means of a rope made of my + sheets; then, having thrown out the rest of my clothes, my game-bag and my + gun, I in turn escaped the same way. + </p> + <p> + “I began to shout with all my might: 'Cavalier! Cavalier! Cavalier!' + </p> + <p> + “But the gamekeeper did not wake up. He slept soundly like an old + gendarme. + </p> + <p> + “However, I could see through the lower windows that the whole + ground-floor was nothing but a roaring furnace; I also noticed that it had + been filled with straw to make it burn readily. + </p> + <p> + “Somebody must purposely have set fire to the place! + </p> + <p> + “I continued shrieking wildly: 'Cavalier!' + </p> + <p> + “Then the thought struck me that the smoke might be suffocating him. + An idea came to me. I slipped two cartridges into my gun, and shot + straight at his window. + </p> + <p> + “The six panes of glass shattered into the room in a cloud of glass. + This time the old man had heard me, and he appeared, dazed, in his + nightshirt, bewildered by the glare which illumined the whole front of his + 'house. + </p> + <p> + “I cried to him: + </p> + <p> + “'Your house is on fire! Escape through the window! Quick! Quick!' + </p> + <p> + “The flames were coming out through all the cracks downstairs, were + licking along the wall, were creeping toward him and going to surround + him. He jumped and landed on his feet, like a cat. + </p> + <p> + “It was none too soon. The thatched roof cracked in the middle, + right over the staircase, which formed a kind of flue for the fire + downstairs; and an immense red jet jumped up into the air, spreading like + a stream of water and sprinkling a shower of sparks around the hut. In a + few seconds it was nothing but a pool of flames. + </p> + <p> + “Cavalier, thunderstruck, asked: + </p> + <p> + “'How did the fire start?' + </p> + <p> + “I answered: + </p> + <p> + “'Somebody lit it in the kitchen.' + </p> + <p> + “He muttered: + </p> + <p> + “'Who could have started the fire?' + </p> + <p> + “And I, suddenly guessing, answered: + </p> + <p> + “'Marius!' + </p> + <p> + “The old man understood. He stammered: + </p> + <p> + “'Good God! That is why he didn't return.' + </p> + <p> + “A terrible thought flashed through my mind. I cried: + </p> + <p> + “'And Celeste! Celeste!' + </p> + <p> + “He did not answer. The house caved in before us, forming only an + enormous, bright, blinding brazier, an awe-inspiring funeral-pile, where + the poor woman could no longer be anything but a glowing ember, a glowing + ember of human flesh. + </p> + <p> + “We had not heard a single cry. + </p> + <p> + “As the fire crept toward the shed, I suddenly bethought me of my + horse, and Cavalier ran to free it. + </p> + <p> + “Hardly had he opened the door of the stable, when a supple, nimble + body darted between his legs, and threw him on his face. It was Marius, + running for all he was worth. + </p> + <p> + “The man was up in a second. He tried to run after the wretch, but, + seeing that he could not catch him, and maddened by an irresistible anger, + yielding to one of those thoughtless impulses which we cannot foresee or + prevent, he picked up my gun, which was lying on the ground. near him, put + it to his shoulder, and, before I could make a motion, he pulled the + trigger without even noticing whether or not the weapon was loaded. + </p> + <p> + “One of the cartridges which I had put in to announce the fire was + still intact, and the charge caught the fugitive right in the back,—throwing + him forward on the ground, bleeding profusely. He immediately began to + claw the earth with his hands and with his knees, as though trying to run + on all fours like a rabbit who has been mortally wounded, and sees the + hunter approaching. + </p> + <p> + “I rushed forward to the boy, but I could already hear the + death-rattle. He passed away before the fire was extinguished, without + having said a word. + </p> + <p> + “Cavalier, still in his shirt, his legs bare, was standing near us, + motionless, dazed. + </p> + <p> + “When the people from the village arrived, my gamekeeper was taken + away, like an insane man. + </p> + <p> + “I appeared at the trial as witness, and related the facts in + detail, without changing a thing. Cavalier was acquitted. He disappeared + that very day, leaving the country. + </p> + <p> + “I have never seen him since. + </p> + <p> + “There, gentlemen, that is my story.” + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0047"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + THE STORY OF A FARM GIRL + </h2> + <p> + <a id="2H_PART"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + PART I + </h2> + <p> + As the weather was very fine, the people on the farm had hurried through + their dinner and had returned to the fields. + </p> + <p> + The servant, Rose, remained alone in the large kitchen, where the fire was + dying out on the hearth beneath the large boiler of hot water. From time + to time she dipped out some water and slowly washed her dishes, stopping + occasionally to look at the two streaks of light which the sun threw + across the long table through the window, and which showed the defects in + the glass. + </p> + <p> + Three venturesome hens were picking up the crumbs under the chairs, while + the smell of the poultry yard and the warmth from the cow stall came in + through the half-open door, and a cock was heard crowing in the distance. + </p> + <p> + When she had finished her work, wiped down the table, dusted the + mantelpiece and put the plates on the high dresser close to the wooden + clock with its loud tick-tock, she drew a long breath, as she felt rather + oppressed, without exactly knowing why. She looked at the black clay + walls, the rafters that were blackened with smoke and from which hung + spiders' webs, smoked herrings and strings of onions, and then she sat + down, rather overcome by the stale odor from the earthen floor, on which + so many things had been continually spilled and which the heat brought + out. With this there was mingled the sour smell of the pans of milk which + were set out to raise the cream in the adjoining dairy. + </p> + <p> + She wanted to sew, as usual, but she did not feel strong enough, and so + she went to the door to get a mouthful of fresh air, which seemed to do + her good. + </p> + <p> + The fowls were lying on the steaming dunghill; some of them were + scratching with one claw in search of worms, while the cock stood up + proudly in their midst. When he crowed, the cocks in all the neighboring + farmyards replied to him, as if they were uttering challenges from farm to + farm. + </p> + <p> + The girl looked at them without thinking, and then she raised her eyes and + was almost dazzled at the sight of the apple trees in blossom. Just then a + colt, full of life and friskiness, jumped over the ditches and then + stopped suddenly, as if surprised at being alone. + </p> + <p> + She also felt inclined to run; she felt inclined to move and to stretch + her limbs and to repose in the warm, breathless air. She took a few + undecided steps and closed her eyes, for she was seized with a feeling of + animal comfort, and then she went to look for eggs in the hen loft. There + were thirteen of them, which she took in and put into the storeroom; but + the smell from the kitchen annoyed her again, and she went out to sit on + the grass for a time. + </p> + <p> + The farmyard, which was surrounded by trees, seemed to be asleep. The tall + grass, amid which the tall yellow dandelions rose up like streaks of + yellow light, was of a vivid, fresh spring green. The apple trees cast + their shade all round them, and the thatched roofs, on which grew blue and + yellow irises, with their sword-like leaves, steamed as if the moisture of + the stables and barns were coming through the straw. The girl went to the + shed, where the carts and buggies were kept. Close to it, in a ditch, + there was a large patch of violets, whose fragrance was spread abroad, + while beyond the slope the open country could be seen, where grain was + growing, with clumps of trees in places, and groups of laborers here and + there, who looked as small as dolls, and white horses like toys, who were + drawing a child's cart, driven by a man as tall as one's finger. + </p> + <p> + She took up a bundle of straw, threw it into the ditch and sat down upon + it. Then, not feeling comfortable, she undid it, spread it out and lay + down upon it at full length on her back, with both arms under her head and + her legs stretched out. + </p> + <p> + Gradually her eyes closed, and she was falling into a state of delightful + languor. She was, in fact, almost asleep when she felt two hands on her + bosom, and she sprang up at a bound. It was Jacques, one of the farm + laborers, a tall fellow from Picardy, who had been making love to her for + a long time. He had been herding the sheep, and, seeing her lying down in + the shade, had come up stealthily and holding his breath, with glistening + eyes and bits of straw in his hair. + </p> + <p> + He tried to kiss her, but she gave him a smack in the face, for she was as + strong as he, and he was shrewd enough to beg her pardon; so they sat down + side by side and talked amicably. They spoke about the favorable weather, + of their master, who was a good fellow, then of their neighbors, of all + the people in the country round, of themselves, of their village, of their + youthful days, of their recollections, of their relations, who had left + them for a long time, and it might be forever. She grew sad as she thought + of it, while he, with one fixed idea in his head, drew closer to her. + </p> + <p> + “I have not seen my mother for a long time,” she said. “It + is very hard to be separated like that,” and she directed her looks + into the distance, toward the village in the north which she had left. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly, however, he seized her by the neck and kissed her again, but she + struck him so violently in the face with her clenched fist that his nose + began to bleed, and he got up and laid his head against the stem of a + tree. When she saw that, she was sorry, and going up to him, she said: + “Have I hurt you?” He, however, only laughed. “No, it + was a mere nothing; only she had hit him right on the middle of the nose. + What a devil!” he said, and he looked at her with admiration, for + she had inspired him with a feeling of respect and of a very different + kind of admiration which was the beginning of a real love for that tall, + strong wench. When the bleeding had stopped, he proposed a walk, as he was + afraid of his neighbor's heavy hand, if they remained side by side like + that much longer; but she took his arm of her own accord, in the avenue, + as if they had been out for an evening's walk, and said: “It is not + nice of you to despise me like that, Jacques.” He protested, + however. No, he did not despise her. He was in love with her, that was + all. + </p> + <p> + “So you really want to marry me?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + He hesitated and then looked at her sideways, while she looked straight + ahead of her. She had fat, red cheeks, a full bust beneath her cotton + jacket; thick, red lips; and her neck, which was almost bare, was covered + with small beads of perspiration. He felt a fresh access of desire, and, + putting his lips to her ear, he murmured: “Yes, of course I do.” + </p> + <p> + Then she threw her arms round his neck and kissed him till they were both + out of breath. From that moment the eternal story of love began between + them. They plagued one another in corners; they met in the moonlight + beside the haystack and gave each other bruises on the legs, under the + table, with their heavy nailed boots. By degrees, however, Jacques seemed + to grow tired of her; he avoided her, scarcely spoke to her, and did not + try any longer to meet her alone, which made her sad and anxious; and soon + she found that she was enceinte. + </p> + <p> + At first she was in a state of consternation, but then she got angry, and + her rage increased every day because she could not meet him, as he avoided + her most carefully. At last, one night, when every one in the farmhouse + was asleep, she went out noiselessly in her petticoat, with bare feet, + crossed the yard and opened the door of the stable where Jacques was lying + in a large box of straw above his horses. He pretended to snore when he + heard her coming, but she knelt down by his side and shook him until he + sat up. + </p> + <p> + “What do you want?” he then asked her. And with clenched + teeth, and trembling with anger, she replied: “I want—I want + you to marry me, as you promised.” But he only laughed and replied: + “Oh! if a man were to marry all the girls with whom he has made a + slip, he would have more than enough to do.” + </p> + <p> + Then she seized him by the throat, threw him or his back, so that he could + not get away from her, and, half strangling him, she shouted into his + face: + </p> + <p> + “I am enceinte, do you hear? I am enceinte!” + </p> + <p> + He gasped for breath, as he was almost choked, and so they remained, both + of them, motionless and without speaking, in the dark silence, which was + only broken by the noise made by a horse as he, pulled the hay out of the + manger and then slowly munched it. + </p> + <p> + When Jacques found that she was the stronger, he stammered out: “Very + well, I will marry you, as that is the case.” But she did not + believe his promises. “It must be at once,” she said. “You + must have the banns put up.” “At once,” he replied. + “Swear solemnly that you will.” He hesitated for a few moments + and then said: “I swear it, by Heaven!” + </p> + <p> + Then she released her grasp and went away without another word. + </p> + <p> + She had no chance of speaking to him for several days; and, as the stable + was now always locked at night, she was afraid to make any noise, for fear + of creating a scandal. One morning, however, she saw another man come in + at dinner time, and she said: “Has Jacques left?” “Yes;” + the man replied; “I have got his place.” + </p> + <p> + This made her tremble so violently that she could not take the saucepan + off the fire; and later, when they were all at work, she went up into her + room and cried, burying her head in the bolster, so that she might not be + heard. During the day, however, she tried to obtain some information + without exciting any suspicion, but she was so overwhelmed by the thoughts + of her misfortune that she fancied that all the people whom she asked + laughed maliciously. All she learned, however, was that he had left the + neighborhood altogether. + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + PART II + </h2> + <p> + Then a cloud of constant misery began for her. She worked mechanically, + without thinking of what she was doing, with one fixed idea in her head: + </p> + <p> + “Suppose people were to know.” + </p> + <p> + This continual feeling made her so incapable of reasoning that she did not + even try to think of any means of avoiding the disgrace that she knew must + ensue, which was irreparable and drawing nearer every day, and which was + as sure as death itself. She got up every morning long before the others + and persistently tried to look at her figure in a piece of broken + looking-glass, before which she did her hair, as she was very anxious to + know whether anybody would notice a change in her, and, during the day, + she stopped working every few minutes to look at herself from top to toe, + to see whether her apron did not look too short. + </p> + <p> + The months went on, and she scarcely spoke now, and when she was asked a + question, did not appear to understand; but she had a frightened look, + haggard eyes and trembling hands, which made her master say to her + occasionally: “My poor girl, how stupid you have grown lately.” + </p> + <p> + In church she hid behind a pillar, and no longer ventured to go to + confession, as she feared to face the priest, to whom she attributed + superhuman powers, which enabled him to read people's consciences; and at + meal times the looks of her fellow servants almost made her faint with + mental agony; and she was always fancying that she had been found out by + the cowherd, a precocious and cunning little lad, whose bright eyes seemed + always to be watching her. + </p> + <p> + One morning the postman brought her a letter, and as she had never + received one in her life before she was so upset by it that she was + obliged to sit down. Perhaps it was from him? But, as she could not read, + she sat anxious and trembling with that piece of paper, covered with ink, + in her hand. After a time, however, she put it into her pocket, as she did + not venture to confide her secret to any one. She often stopped in her + work to look at those lines written at regular intervals, and which + terminated in a signature, imagining vaguely that she would suddenly + discover their meaning, until at last, as she felt half mad with + impatience and anxiety, she went to the schoolmaster, who told her to sit + down and read to her as follows: + </p> + <p> + “MY DEAR DAUGHTER: I write to tell you that I am very ill. Our + neighbor, Monsieur Dentu, begs you to come, if you can. + </p> +<div class='pre'> +“From your affectionate mother, + “CESAIRE DENTU, Deputy Mayor.” + </div> + <p> + She did not say a word and went away, but as soon as she was alone her + legs gave way under her, and she fell down by the roadside and remained + there till night. + </p> + <p> + When she got back, she told the farmer her bad news, and he allowed her to + go home for as long as she liked, and promised to have her work done by a + charwoman and to take her back when she returned. + </p> + <p> + Her mother died soon after she got there, and the next day Rose gave birth + to a seven-months child, a miserable little skeleton, thin enough to make + anybody shudder, and which seemed to be suffering continually, to judge + from the painful manner in which it moved its poor little hands, which + were as thin as a crab's legs; but it lived for all that. She said she was + married, but could not be burdened with the child, so she left it with + some neighbors, who promised to take great care of it, and she went back + to the farm. + </p> + <p> + But now in her heart, which had been wounded so long, there arose + something like brightness, an unknown love for that frail little creature + which she had left behind her, though there was fresh suffering in that + very love, suffering which she felt every hour and every minute, because + she was parted from her child. What pained her most, however, was the mad + longing to kiss it, to press it in her arms, to feel the warmth of its + little body against her breast. She could not sleep at night; she thought + of it the whole day long, and in the evening, when her work was done, she + would sit in front of the fire and gaze at it intently, as people do whose + thoughts are far away. + </p> + <p> + They began to talk about her and to tease her about her lover. They asked + her whether he was tall, handsome and rich. When was the wedding to be and + the christening? And often she ran away to cry by herself, for these + questions seemed to hurt her like the prick of a pin; and, in order to + forget their jokes, she began to work still more energetically, and, still + thinking of her child, she sought some way of saving up money for it, and + determined to work so that her master would be obliged to raise her wages. + </p> + <p> + By degrees she almost monopolized the work and persuaded him to get rid of + one servant girl, who had become useless since she had taken to working + like two; she economized in the bread, oil and candles; in the corn, which + they gave to the chickens too extravagantly, and in the fodder for the + horses and cattle, which was rather wasted. She was as miserly about her + master's money as if it had been her own; and, by dint of making good + bargains, of getting high prices for all their produce, and by baffling + the peasants' tricks when they offered anything for sale, he, at last, + entrusted her with buying and selling everything, with the direction of + all the laborers, and with the purchase of provisions necessary for the + household; so that, in a short time, she became. indispensable to him. She + kept such a strict eye on everything about her that, under her direction, + the farm prospered wonderfully, and for five miles around people talked of + “Master Vallin's servant,” and the farmer himself said + everywhere: “That girl is worth more than her weight in gold.” + </p> + <p> + But time passed by, and her wages remained the same. Her hard work was + accepted as something that was due from every good servant, and as a mere + token of good will; and she began to think rather bitterly that if the + farmer could put fifty or a hundred crowns extra into the bank every + month, thanks to her, she was still only earning her two hundred francs a + year, neither more nor less; and so she made up her mind to ask for an + increase of wages. She went to see the schoolmaster three times about it, + but when she got there, she spoke about something else. She felt a kind of + modesty in asking for money, as if it were something disgraceful; but, at + last, one day, when the farmer was having breakfast by himself in the + kitchen, she said to him, with some embarrassment, that she wished to + speak to him particularly. He raised his head in surprise, with both his + hands on the table, holding his knife, with its point in the air, in one, + and a piece of bread in the other, and he looked fixedly at, the girl, who + felt uncomfortable under his gaze, but asked for a week's holiday, so that + she might get away, as she was not very well. He acceded to her request + immediately, and then added, in some embarrassment himself: + </p> + <p> + “When you come back, I shall have something to say to you myself.” + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + PART III + </h2> + <p> + The child was nearly eight months old, and she did not recognize it. It + had grown rosy and chubby all over, like a little roll of fat. She threw + herself on it, as if it had been some prey, and kissed it so violently + that it began to scream with terror; and then she began to cry herself, + because it did not know her, and stretched out its arms to its nurse as + soon as it saw her. But the next day it began to know her, and laughed + when it saw her, and she took it into the fields, and ran about excitedly + with it, and sat down under the shade of the trees; and then, for the + first time in her life, she opened her heart to somebody, although he + could not understand her, and told him her troubles; how hard her work + was, her anxieties and her hopes, and she quite tired the child with the + violence of her caresses. + </p> + <p> + She took the greatest pleasure in handling it, in washing and dressing it, + for it seemed to her that all this was the confirmation of her maternity; + and she would look at it, almost feeling surprised 'that it was hers, and + would say to herself in a low voice as she danced it in her arms: “It + is my baby, it's my baby.” + </p> + <p> + She cried all the way home as she returned to the farm and had scarcely + got in before her master called her into his room; and she went, feeling + astonished and nervous, without knowing why. + </p> + <p> + “Sit down there,” he said. She sat down, and for some moments + they remained side by side, in some embarrassment, with their arms hanging + at their sides, as if they did not know what to do with them, and looking + each other in the face, after the manner of peasants. + </p> + <p> + The farmer, a stout, jovial, obstinate man of forty-five, who had lost two + wives, evidently felt embarrassed, which was very unusual with him; but, + at last, he made up his mind, and began to speak vaguely, hesitating a + little, and looking out of the window as he talked. “How is it, + Rose,” he said, “that you have never thought of settling in + life?” She grew as pale as death, and, seeing that she gave him no + answer, he went on: “You are a good, steady, active and economical + girl; and a wife like you would make a man's fortune.” + </p> + <p> + She did not move, but looked frightened; she did not even try to + comprehend his meaning, for her thoughts were in a whirl, as if at the + approach of some great danger; so, after waiting for a few seconds, he + went on: “You see, a farm without a mistress can never succeed, even + with a servant like you.” Then he stopped, for he did not know what + else to say, and Rose looked at him with the air of a person who thinks + that he is face to face with a murderer and ready to flee at the slightest + movement he may make; but, after waiting for about five minutes, he asked + her: “Well, will it suit you?” “Will what suit me, + master?” And he said quickly: “Why, to marry me, by Heaven!” + </p> + <p> + She jumped up, but fell back on her chair, as if she had been struck, and + there she remained motionless, like a person who is overwhelmed by some + great misfortune. At last the farmer grew impatient and said: “Come, + what more do you want?” She looked at him, almost in terror, then + suddenly the tears came into her eyes and she said twice in a choking + voice: “I cannot, I cannot!” “Why not?” he asked. + “Come, don't be silly; I will give you until tomorrow to think it + over.” + </p> + <p> + And he hurried out of the room, very glad to have got through with the + matter, which had troubled him a good deal, for he had no doubt that she + would the next morning accept a proposal which she could never have + expected and which would be a capital bargain for him, as he thus bound a + woman to his interests who would certainly bring him more than if she had + the best dowry in the district. + </p> + <p> + Neither could there be any scruples about an unequal match between them, + for in the country every one is very nearly equal; the farmer works with + his laborers, who frequently become masters in their turn, and the female + servants constantly become the mistresses of the establishments without + its making any change in their life or habits. + </p> + <p> + Rose did not go to bed that night. She threw herself, dressed as she was, + on her bed, and she had not even the strength to cry left in her, she was + so thoroughly dumfounded. She remained quite inert, scarcely knowing that + she had a body, and without being at all able to collect her thoughts, + though, at moments, she remembered something of what had happened, and + then she was frightened at the idea of what might happen. Her terror + increased, and every time the great kitchen clock struck the hour she + broke out in a perspiration from grief. She became bewildered, and had the + nightmare; her candle went out, and then she began to imagine that some + one had cast a spell over her, as country people so often imagine, and she + felt a mad inclination to run away, to escape and to flee before her + misfortune, like a ship scudding before the wind. An owl hooted; she + shivered, sat up, passed her hands over her face, her hair, and all over + her body, and then she went downstairs, as if she were walking in her + sleep. When she got into the yard she stooped down, so as not to be seen + by any prowling scamp, for the moon, which was setting, shed a bright + light over the fields. Instead of opening the gate she scrambled over the + fence, and as soon as she was outside she started off. She went on + straight before her, with a quick, springy trot, and from time to time she + unconsciously uttered a piercing cry. Her long shadow accompanied her, and + now and then some night bird flew over her head, while the dogs in the + farmyards barked as they heard her pass; one even jumped over the ditch, + and followed her and tried to bite her, but she turned round and gave such + a terrible yell that the frightened animal ran back and cowered in silence + in its kennel. + </p> + <p> + The stars grew dim, and the birds began to twitter; day was breaking. The + girl was worn out and panting; and when the sun rose in the purple sky, + she stopped, for her swollen feet refused to go any farther; but she saw a + pond in the distance, a large pond whose stagnant water looked like blood + under the reflection of this new day, and she limped on slowly with her + hand on her heart, in order to dip both her feet in it. She sat down on a + tuft of grass, took off her heavy shoes, which were full of dust, pulled + off her stockings and plunged her legs into the still water, from which + bubbles were rising here and there. + </p> + <p> + A feeling of delicious coolness pervaded her from head to foot, and + suddenly, while she was looking fixedly at the deep pool, she was seized + with dizziness, and with a mad longing to throw herself into it. All her + sufferings would be over in there, over forever. She no longer thought of + her child; she only wanted peace, complete rest, and to sleep forever, and + she got up with raised arms and took two steps forward. She was in the + water up to her thighs, and she was just about to throw her self in when + sharp, pricking pains in her ankles made her jump back, and she uttered a + cry of despair, for, from her knees to the tips of her feet, long black + leeches were sucking her lifeblood, and were swelling as they adhered to + her flesh. She did not dare to touch them, and screamed with horror, so + that her cries of despair attracted a peasant, who was driving along at + some distance, to the spot. He pulled off the leeches one by one, applied + herbs to the wounds, and drove the girl to her master's farm in his gig. + </p> + <p> + She was in bed for a fortnight, and as she was sitting outside the door on + the first morning that she got up, the farmer suddenly came and planted + himself before her. “Well,” he said, “I suppose the + affair is settled isn't it?” She did not reply at first, and then, + as he remained standing and looking at her intently with his piercing + eyes, she said with difficulty: “No, master, I cannot.” He + immediately flew into a rage. + </p> + <p> + “You cannot, girl; you cannot? I should just like to know the reason + why?” She began to cry, and repeated: “I cannot.” He + looked at her, and then exclaimed angrily: “Then I suppose you have + a lover?” “Perhaps that is it,” she replied, trembling + with shame. + </p> + <p> + The man got as red as a poppy, and stammered out in a rage: “Ah! So + you confess it, you slut! And pray who is the fellow? Some penniless, + half-starved ragamuffin, without a roof to his head, I suppose? Who is it, + I say?” And as she gave him no answer, he continued: “Ah! So + you will not tell me. Then I will tell you; it is Jean Baudu?”—“No, + not he,” she exclaimed. “Then it is Pierre Martin?”—“Oh! + no, master.” + </p> + <p> + And he angrily mentioned all the young fellows in the neighborhood, while + she denied that he had hit upon the right one, and every moment wiped her + eyes with the corner of her blue apron. But he still tried to find it out, + with his brutish obstinacy, and, as it were, scratching at her heart to + discover her secret, just as a terrier scratches at a hole to try and get + at the animal which he scents inside it. Suddenly, however, the man + shouted: “By George! It is Jacques, the man who was here last year. + They used to say that you were always talking together, and that you + thought about getting married.” + </p> + <p> + Rose was choking, and she grew scarlet, while her tears suddenly stopped + and dried up on her cheeks, like drops of water on hot iron, and she + exclaimed: “No, it is not he, it is not he!” “Is that + really a fact?” asked the cunning peasant, who partly guessed the + truth; and she replied, hastily: “I will swear it; I will swear it + to you—” She tried to think of something by which to swear, as + she did not venture to invoke sacred things, but he interrupted her: + “At any rate, he used to follow you into every corner and devoured + you with his eyes at meal times. Did you ever give him your promise, eh?” + </p> + <p> + This time she looked her master straight in the face. “No, never, + never; I will solemnly swear to you that if he were to come to-day and ask + me to marry him I would have nothing to do with him.” She spoke with + such an air of sincerity that the farmer hesitated, and then he continued, + as if speaking to himself: “What, then? You have not had a + misfortune, as they call it, or it would have been known, and as it has no + consequences, no girl would refuse her master on that account. There must + be something at the bottom of it, however.” + </p> + <p> + She could say nothing; she had not the strength to speak, and he asked her + again: “You will not?” “I cannot, master,” she + said, with a sigh, and he turned on his heel. + </p> + <p> + She thought she had got rid of him altogether and spent the rest of the + day almost tranquilly, but was as exhausted as if she had been turning the + thrashing machine all day in the place of the old white horse, and she + went to bed as soon as she could and fell asleep immediately. In the + middle of the night, however, two hands touching the bed woke her. She + trembled with fear, but immediately recognized the farmer's voice, when he + said to her: “Don't be frightened, Rose; I have come to speak to + you.” She was surprised at first, but when he tried to take + liberties with her she understood and began to tremble violently, as she + felt quite alone in the darkness, still heavy from sleep, and quite + unprotected, with that man standing near her. She certainly did not + consent, but she resisted carelessly struggling against that instinct + which is always strong in simple natures and very imperfectly protected by + the undecided will of inert and gentle races. She turned her head now to + the wall, and now toward the room, in order to avoid the attentions which + the farmer tried to press on her, but she was weakened by fatigue, while + he became brutal, intoxicated by desire. + </p> + <p> + They lived together as man and wife, and one morning he said to her: + “I have put up our banns, and we will get married next month.” + </p> + <p> + She did not reply, for what could she say? She did not resist, for what + could she do? + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + PART IV + </h2> + <p> + She married him. She felt as if she were in a pit with inaccessible sides + from which she could never get out, and all kinds of misfortunes were + hanging over her head, like huge rocks, which would fall on the first + occasion. Her husband gave her the impression of a man whom she had + robbed, and who would find it out some day or other. And then she thought + of her child, who was the cause of her misfortunes, but who was also the + cause of all her happiness on earth, and whom she went to see twice a + year, though she came back more unhappy each time. + </p> + <p> + But she gradually grew accustomed to her life, her fears were allayed, her + heart was at rest, and she lived with an easier mind, though still with + some vague fear floating in it. And so years went on, until the child was + six. She was almost happy now, when suddenly the farmer's temper grew very + bad. + </p> + <p> + For two or three years he seemed to have been nursing some secret anxiety, + to be troubled by some care, some mental disturbance, which was gradually + increasing. He remained sitting at table after dinner, with his head in + his hands, sad and devoured by sorrow. He always spoke hastily, sometimes + even brutally, and it even seemed as if he had a grudge against his wife, + for at times he answered her roughly, almost angrily. + </p> + <p> + One day, when a neighbor's boy came for some eggs, and she spoke rather + crossly to him, as she was very busy, her husband suddenly came in and + said to her in his unpleasant voice: “If that were your own child + you would not treat him so.” She was hurt and did not reply, and + then she went back into the house, with all her grief awakened afresh; and + at dinner the farmer neither spoke to her nor looked at her, and he seemed + to hate her, to despise her, to know something about the affair at last. + In consequence she lost her composure, and did not venture to remain alone + with him after the meal was over, but left the room and hastened to the + church. + </p> + <p> + It was getting dusk; the narrow nave was in total darkness, but she heard + footsteps in the choir, for the sacristan was preparing the tabernacle + lamp for the night. That spot of trembling light, which was lost in the + darkness of the arches, looked to Rose like her last hope, and with her + eyes fixed on it, she fell on her knees. The chain rattled as the little + lamp swung up into the air, and almost immediately the small bell rang out + the Angelus through the increasing mist. She went up to him, as he was + going out. + </p> + <p> + “Is Monsieur le Cure at home?” she asked. “Of course he + is; this is his dinnertime.” She trembled as she rang the bell of + the parsonage. The priest was just sitting down to dinner, and he made her + sit down also. “Yes, yes, I know all about it; your husband has + mentioned the matter to me that brings you here.” The poor woman + nearly fainted, and the priest continued: “What do you want, my + child?” And he hastily swallowed several spoonfuls of soup, some of + which dropped on to his greasy cassock. But Rose did not venture to say + anything more, and she got up to go, but the priest said: “Courage.” + </p> + <p> + And she went out and returned to the farm without knowing what she was + doing. The farmer was waiting for her, as the laborers had gone away + during her absence, and she fell heavily at his feet, and, shedding a + flood of tears, she said to him: “What have you got against me?” + </p> + <p> + He began to shout and to swear: “What have I got against you? That I + have no children, by—-. When a man takes a wife it is not that they + may live alone together to the end of their days. That is what I have + against you. When a cow has no calves she is not worth anything, and when + a woman has no children she is also not worth anything.” + </p> + <p> + She began to cry, and said: “It is not my fault! It is not my fault!” + He grew rather more gentle when he heard that, and added: “I do not + say that it is, but it is very provoking, all the same.” + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + PART V + </h2> + <p> + From that day forward she had only one thought: to have a child another + child; she confided her wish to everybody, and, in consequence of this, a + neighbor told her of an infallible method. This was, to make her husband + drink a glass of water with a pinch of ashes in it every evening. The + farmer consented to try it, but without success; so they said to each + other: “Perhaps there are some secret ways?” And they tried to + find out. They were told of a shepherd who lived ten leagues off, and so + Vallin one day drove off to consult him. The shepherd gave him a loaf on + which he had made some marks; it was kneaded up with herbs, and each of + them was to eat a piece of it, but they ate the whole loaf without + obtaining any results from it. + </p> + <p> + Next, a schoolmaster unveiled mysteries and processes of love which were + unknown in the country, but infallible, so he declared; but none of them + had the desired effect. Then the priest advised them to make a pilgrimage + to the shrine at Fecamp. Rose went with the crowd and prostrated herself + in the abbey, and, mingling her prayers with the coarse desires of the + peasants around her, she prayed that she might be fruitful a second time; + but it was in vain, and then she thought that she was being punished for + her first fault, and she was seized by terrible grief. She was wasting + away with sorrow; her husband was also aging prematurely, and was wearing + himself out in useless hopes. + </p> + <p> + Then war broke out between them; he called her names and beat her. They + quarrelled all day long, and when they were in their room together at + night he flung insults and obscenities at her, choking with rage, until + one night, not being able to think of any means of making her suffer more + he ordered her to get up and go and stand out of doors in the rain until + daylight. As she did not obey him, he seized her by the neck and began to + strike her in the face with his fists, but she said nothing and did not + move. In his exasperation he knelt on her stomach, and with clenched + teeth, and mad with rage, he began to beat her. Then in her despair she + rebelled, and flinging him against the wall with a furious gesture, she + sat up, and in an altered voice she hissed: “I have had a child, I + have had one! I had it by Jacques; you know Jacques. He promised to marry + me, but he left this neighborhood without keeping his word.” + </p> + <p> + The man was thunderstruck and could hardly speak, but at last he stammered + out: “What are you saying? What are you saying?” Then she + began to sob, and amid her tears she continued: “That was the reason + why I did not want to marry you. I could not tell you, for you would have + left me without any bread for my child. You have never had any children, + so you cannot understand, you cannot understand!” + </p> + <p> + He said again, mechanically, with increasing surprise: “You have a + child? You have a child?” + </p> + <p> + “You took me by force, as I suppose you know? I did not want to + marry you,” she said, still sobbing. + </p> + <p> + Then he got up, lit the candle, and began to walk up and down, with his + arms behind him. She was cowering on the bed and crying, and suddenly he + stopped in front of her, and said: “Then it is my fault that you + have no children?” She gave him no answer, and he began to walk up + and down again, and then, stopping again, he continued: “How old is + your child?” “Just six,” she whispered. “Why did + you not tell me about it?” he asked. “How could I?” she + replied, with a sigh. + </p> + <p> + He remained standing, motionless. “Come, get up,” he said. She + got up with some difficulty, and then, when she was standing on the floor, + he suddenly began to laugh with the hearty laugh of his good days, and, + seeing how surprised she was, he added: “Very well, we will go and + fetch the child, as you and I can have none together.” + </p> + <p> + She was so scared that if she had had the strength she would assuredly + have run away, but the farmer rubbed his hands and said: “I wanted + to adopt one, and now we have found one. I asked the cure about an orphan + some time ago.” + </p> + <p> + Then, still laughing, he kissed his weeping and agitated wife on both + cheeks, and shouted out, as though she could not hear him: “Come + along, mother, we will go and see whether there is any soup left; I should + not mind a plateful.” + </p> + <p> + She put on her petticoat and they went downstairs; and while she was + kneeling in front of the fireplace and lighting the fire under the + saucepan, he continued to walk up and down the kitchen with long strides, + repeating: + </p> + <p> + “Well, I am really glad of this; I am not saying it for form's sake, + but I am glad, I am really very glad.” + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0053"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + THE WRECK + </h2> + <p> + It was yesterday, the 31st of December. + </p> + <p> + I had just finished breakfast with my old friend Georges Garin when the + servant handed him a letter covered with seals and foreign stamps. + </p> + <p> + Georges said: + </p> + <p> + “Will you excuse me?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly.” + </p> + <p> + And so he began to read the letter, which was written in a large English + handwriting, crossed and recrossed in every direction. He read them + slowly, with serious attention and the interest which we only pay to + things which touch our hearts. + </p> + <p> + Then he put the letter on the mantelpiece and said: + </p> + <p> + “That was a curious story! I've never told you about it, I think. + Yet it was a sentimental adventure, and it really happened to me. That was + a strange New Year's Day, indeed! It must have been twenty years ago, for + I was then thirty and am now fifty years old. + </p> + <p> + “I was then an inspector in the Maritime Insurance Company, of which + I am now director. I had arranged to pass New Year's Day in Paris—since + it is customary to make that day a fete—when I received a letter + from the manager, asking me to proceed at once to the island of Re, where + a three-masted vessel from Saint-Nazaire, insured by us, had just been + driven ashore. It was then eight o'clock in the morning. I arrived at the + office at ten to get my advices, and that evening I took the express, + which put me down in La Rochelle the next day, the 31st of December. + </p> + <p> + “I had two hours to wait before going aboard the boat for Re. So I + made a tour of the town. It is certainly a queer city, La Rochelle, with + strong characteristics of its own streets tangled like a labyrinth, + sidewalks running under endless arcaded galleries like those of the Rue de + Rivoli, but low, mysterious, built as if to form a suitable setting for + conspirators and making a striking background for those old-time wars, the + savage heroic wars of religion. It is indeed the typical old Huguenot + city, conservative, discreet, with no fine art to show, with no wonderful + monuments, such as make Rouen; but it is remarkable for its severe, + somewhat sullen look; it is a city of obstinate fighters, a city where + fanaticism might well blossom, where the faith of the Calvinists became + enthusiastic and which gave birth to the plot of the 'Four Sergeants.' + </p> + <p> + “After I had wandered for some time about these curious streets, I + went aboard the black, rotund little steamboat which was to take me to the + island of Re. It was called the Jean Guiton. It started with angry + puffings, passed between the two old towers which guard the harbor, + crossed the roadstead and issued from the mole built by Richelieu, the + great stones of which can be seen at the water's edge, enclosing the town + like a great necklace. Then the steamboat turned to the right. + </p> + <p> + “It was one of those sad days which give one the blues, tighten the + heart and take away all strength and energy and force-a gray, cold day, + with a heavy mist which was as wet as rain, as cold as frost, as bad to + breathe as the steam of a wash-tub. + </p> + <p> + “Under this low sky of dismal fog the shallow, yellow, sandy sea of + all practically level beaches lay without a wrinkle, without a movement, + without life, a sea of turbid water, of greasy water, of stagnant water. + The Jean Guiton passed over it, rolling a little from habit, dividing the + smooth, dark blue water and leaving behind a few waves, a little + splashing, a slight swell, which soon calmed down. + </p> + <p> + “I began to talk to the captain, a little man with small feet, as + round as his boat and rolling in the same manner. I wanted some details of + the disaster on which I was to draw up a report. A great square-rigged + three-master, the Marie Joseph, of Saint-Nazaire, had gone ashore one + night in a hurricane on the sands of the island of Re. + </p> + <p> + “The owner wrote us that the storm had thrown the ship so far ashore + that it was impossible to float her and that they had to remove everything + which could be detached with the utmost possible haste. Nevertheless I + must examine the situation of the wreck, estimate what must have been her + condition before the disaster and decide whether all efforts had been used + to get her afloat. I came as an agent of the company in order to give + contradictory testimony, if necessary, at the trial. + </p> + <p> + “On receipt of my report, the manager would take what measures he + might think necessary to protect our interests. + </p> + <p> + “The captain of the Jean Guiton knew all about the affair, having + been summoned with his boat to assist in the attempts at salvage. + </p> + <p> + “He told me the story of the disaster. The Marie Joseph, driven by a + furious gale lost her bearings completely in the night, and steering by + chance over a heavy foaming sea—'a milk-soup sea,' said the captain—had + gone ashore on those immense sand banks which make the coasts of this + country look like limitless Saharas when the tide is low. + </p> + <p> + “While talking I looked around and ahead. Between the ocean and the + lowering sky lay an open space where the eye could see into the distance. + We were following a coast. I asked: + </p> + <p> + “'Is that the island of Re?' + </p> + <p> + “'Yes, sir.' + </p> + <p> + “And suddenly the captain stretched his right hand out before us, + pointed to something almost imperceptible in the open sea, and said: + </p> + <p> + “'There's your ship!' + </p> + <p> + “'The Marie Joseph!' + </p> + <p> + “'Yes.' + </p> + <p> + “I was amazed. This black, almost imperceptible speck, which looked + to me like a rock, seemed at least three miles from land. + </p> + <p> + “I continued: + </p> + <p> + “'But, captain, there must be a hundred fathoms of water in that + place.' + </p> + <p> + “He began to laugh. + </p> + <p> + “'A hundred fathoms, my child! Well, I should say about two!' + </p> + <p> + “He was from Bordeaux. He continued: + </p> + <p> + “'It's now nine-forty, just high tide. Go down along the beach with + your hands in your pockets after you've had lunch at the Hotel du Dauphin, + and I'll wager that at ten minutes to three, or three o'clock, you'll + reach the wreck without wetting your feet, and have from an hour and + three-quarters to two hours aboard of her; but not more, or you'll be + caught. The faster the sea goes out the faster it comes back. This coast + is as flat as a turtle! But start away at ten minutes to five, as I tell + you, and at half-past seven you will be again aboard of the Jean Guiton, + which will put you down this same evening on the quay at La Rochelle.' + </p> + <p> + “I thanked the captain and I went and sat down in the bow of the + steamer to get a good look at the little city of Saint-Martin, which we + were now rapidly approaching. + </p> + <p> + “It was just like all small seaports which serve as capitals of the + barren islands scattered along the coast—a large fishing village, + one foot on sea and one on shore, subsisting on fish and wild fowl, + vegetables and shell-fish, radishes and mussels. The island is very low + and little cultivated, yet it seems to be thickly populated. However, I + did not penetrate into the interior. + </p> + <p> + “After breakfast I climbed across a little promontory, and then, as + the tide was rapidly falling, I started out across the sands toward a kind + of black rock which I could just perceive above the surface of the water, + out a considerable distance. + </p> + <p> + “I walked quickly over the yellow plain. It was elastic, like flesh + and seemed to sweat beneath my tread. The sea had been there very lately. + Now I perceived it at a distance, escaping out of sight, and I no longer + could distinguish the line which separated the sands from ocean. I felt as + though I were looking at a gigantic supernatural work of enchantment. The + Atlantic had just now been before me, then it had disappeared into the + sands, just as scenery disappears through a trap; and I was now walking in + the midst of a desert. Only the feeling, the breath of the salt-water, + remained in me. I perceived the smell of the wrack, the smell of the sea, + the good strong smell of sea coasts. I walked fast; I was no longer cold. + I looked at the stranded wreck, which grew in size as I approached, and + came now to resemble an enormous shipwrecked whale. + </p> + <p> + “It seemed fairly to rise out of the ground, and on that great, + flat, yellow stretch of sand assumed wonderful proportions. After an + hour's walk I at last reached it. It lay upon its side, ruined and + shattered, its broken bones showing as though it were an animal, its bones + of tarred wood pierced with great bolts. The sand had already invaded it, + entering it by all the crannies, and held it and refused to let it go. It + seemed to have taken root in it. The bow had entered deep into this soft, + treacherous beach, while the stern, high in air, seemed to cast at heaven, + like a cry of despairing appeal, the two white words on the black + planking, Marie Joseph. + </p> + <p> + “I climbed upon this carcass of a ship by the lowest side; then, + having reached the deck, I went below. The daylight, which entered by the + stove-in hatches and the cracks in the sides, showed me dimly long dark + cavities full of demolished woodwork. They contained nothing but sand, + which served as foot-soil in this cavern of planks. + </p> + <p> + “I began to take some notes about the condition of the ship. I was + seated on a broken empty cask, writing by the light of a great crack, + through which I could perceive the boundless stretch of the strand. A + strange shivering of cold and loneliness ran over my skin from time to + time, and I would often stop writing for a moment to listen to the + mysterious noises in the derelict: the noise of crabs scratching the + planking with their crooked claws; the noise of a thousand little + creatures of the sea already crawling over this dead body or else boring + into the wood. + </p> + <p> + “Suddenly, very near me, I heard human voices. I started as though I + had seen a ghost. For a second I really thought I was about to see drowned + men rise from the sinister depths of the hold, who would tell me about + their death. At any rate, it did not take me long to swing myself on deck. + There, standing by the bows, was a tall Englishman with three young + misses. Certainly they were a good deal more frightened at seeing this + sudden apparition on the abandoned three-master than I was at seeing them. + The youngest girl turned and ran, the two others threw their arms round + their father. As for him, he opened his mouth—that was the only sign + of emotion which he showed. + </p> + <p> + “Then, after several seconds, he spoke: + </p> + <p> + “'Mosieu, are you the owner of this ship?' + </p> + <p> + “'I am.' + </p> + <p> + “'May I go over it?' + </p> + <p> + “'You may.' + </p> + <p> + “Then he uttered a long sentence in English, in which I only + distinguished the word 'gracious,' repeated several times. + </p> + <p> + “As he was looking for a place to climb up I showed him the easiest + way, and gave him a hand. He climbed up. Then we helped up the three + girls, who had now quite recovered their composure. They were charming, + especially the oldest, a blonde of eighteen, fresh as a flower, and very + dainty and pretty! Ah, yes! the pretty Englishwomen have indeed the look + of tender sea fruit. One would have said of this one that she had just + risen out of the sands and that her hair had kept their tint. They all, + with their exquisite freshness, make you think of the delicate colors of + pink sea-shells and of shining pearls hidden in the unknown depths of the + ocean. + </p> + <p> + “She spoke French a little better than her father and acted as + interpreter. I had to tell all about the shipwreck, and I romanced as + though I had been present at the catastrophe. Then the whole family + descended into the interior of the wreck. As soon as they had penetrated + into this sombre, dimly lit cavity they uttered cries of astonishment and + admiration. Suddenly the father and his three daughters were holding + sketch-books in their hands, which they had doubtless carried hidden + somewhere in their heavy weather-proof clothes, and were all beginning at + once to make pencil sketches of this melancholy and weird place. + </p> + <p> + “They had seated themselves side by side on a projecting beam, and + the four sketch-books on the eight knees were being rapidly covered with + little black lines which were intended to represent the half-opened hulk + of the Marie Joseph. + </p> + <p> + “I continued to inspect the skeleton of the ship, and the oldest + girl talked to me while she worked. + </p> + <p> + “They had none of the usual English arrogance; they were simple + honest hearts of that class of continuous travellers with which England + covers the globe. The father was long and thin, with a red face framed in + white whiskers, and looking like a living sandwich, a piece of ham carved + like a face between two wads of hair. The daughters, who had long legs + like young storks, were also thin-except the oldest. All three were + pretty, especially the tallest. + </p> + <p> + “She had such a droll way of speaking, of laughing, of understanding + and of not understanding, of raising her eyes to ask a question (eyes blue + as the deep ocean), of stopping her drawing a moment to make a guess at + what you meant, of returning once more to work, of saying 'yes' or 'no'—that + I could have listened and looked indefinitely. + </p> + <p> + “Suddenly she murmured: + </p> + <p> + “'I hear a little sound on this boat.' + </p> + <p> + “I listened and I immediately distinguished a low, steady, curious + sound. I rose and looked out of the crack and gave a scream. The sea had + come up to us; it would soon surround us! + </p> + <p> + “We were on deck in an instant. It was too late. The water circled + us about and was running toward the coast at tremendous speed. No, it did + not run, it glided, crept, spread like an immense, limitless blot. The + water was barely a few centimeters deep, but the rising flood had gone so + far that we no longer saw the vanishing line of the imperceptible tide. + </p> + <p> + “The Englishman wanted to jump. I held him back. Flight was + impossible because of the deep places which we had been obliged to go + round on our way out and into which we should fall on our return. + </p> + <p> + “There was a minute of horrible anguish in our hearts. Then the + little English girl began to smile and murmured: + </p> + <p> + “'It is we who are shipwrecked.' + </p> + <p> + “I tried to laugh, but fear held me, a fear which was cowardly and + horrid and base and treacherous like the tide. All the danger which we ran + appeared to me at once. I wanted to shriek: 'Help!' But to whom? + </p> + <p> + “The two younger girls were clinging to their father, who looked in + consternation at the measureless sea which hedged us round about. + </p> + <p> + “The night fell as swiftly as the ocean rose—a lowering, wet, + icy night. + </p> + <p> + “I said: + </p> + <p> + “'There's nothing to do but to stay on the ship: + </p> + <p> + “The Englishman answered: + </p> + <p> + “'Oh, yes!' + </p> + <p> + “And we waited there a quarter of an hour, half an hour, indeed I + don't know how long, watching that creeping water growing deeper as it + swirled around us, as though it were playing on the beach, which it had + regained. + </p> + <p> + “One of the young girls was cold, and we went below to shelter + ourselves from the light but freezing wind that made our skins tingle. + </p> + <p> + “I leaned over the hatchway. The ship was full of water. So we had + to cower against the stern planking, which shielded us a little. + </p> + <p> + “Darkness was now coming on, and we remained huddled together. I + felt the shoulder of the little English girl trembling against mine, her + teeth chattering from time to time. But I also felt the gentle warmth of + her body through her ulster, and that warmth was as delicious to me as a + kiss. We no longer spoke; we sat motionless, mute, cowering down like + animals in a ditch when a hurricane is raging. And, nevertheless, despite + the night, despite the terrible and increasing danger, I began to feel + happy that I was there, glad of the cold and the peril, glad of the long + hours of darkness and anguish that I must pass on this plank so near this + dainty, pretty little girl. + </p> + <p> + “I asked myself, 'Why this strange sensation of well-being and of + joy?' + </p> + <p> + “Why! Does one know? Because she was there? Who? She, a little + unknown English girl? I did not love her, I did not even know her. And for + all that, I was touched and conquered. I wanted to save her, to sacrifice + myself for her, to commit a thousand follies! Strange thing! How does it + happen that the presence of a woman overwhelms us so? Is it the power of + her grace which enfolds us? Is it the seduction of her beauty and youth, + which intoxicates one like wine? + </p> + <p> + “Is it not rather the touch of Love, of Love the Mysterious, who + seeks constantly to unite two beings, who tries his strength the instant + he has put a man and a woman face to face? + </p> + <p> + “The silence of the darkness became terrible, the stillness of the + sky dreadful, because we could hear vaguely about us a slight, continuous + sound, the sound of the rising tide and the monotonous plashing of the + water against the ship. + </p> + <p> + “Suddenly I heard the sound of sobs. The youngest of the girls was + crying. Her father tried to console her, and they began to talk in their + own tongue, which I did not understand. I guessed that he was reassuring + her and that she was still afraid. + </p> + <p> + “I asked my neighbor: + </p> + <p> + “'You are not too cold, are you, mademoiselle?' + </p> + <p> + “'Oh, yes. I am very cold.' + </p> + <p> + “I offered to give her my cloak; she refused it. + </p> + <p> + “But I had taken it off and I covered her with it against her will. + In the short struggle her hand touched mine. It made a delicious thrill + run through my body. + </p> + <p> + “For some minutes the air had been growing brisker, the dashing of + the water stronger against the flanks of the ship. I raised myself; a + great gust of wind blew in my face. The wind was rising! + </p> + <p> + “The Englishman perceived this at the same time that I did and said + simply: + </p> + <p> + “'This is bad for us, this——' + </p> + <p> + “Of course it was bad, it was certain death if any breakers, however + feeble, should attack and shake the wreck, which was already so shattered + and disconnected that the first big sea would carry it off. + </p> + <p> + “So our anguish increased momentarily as the squalls grew stronger + and stronger. Now the sea broke a little, and I saw in the darkness white + lines appearing and disappearing, lines of foam, while each wave struck + the Marie Joseph and shook her with a short quiver which went to our + hearts. + </p> + <p> + “The English girl was trembling. I felt her shiver against me. And I + had a wild desire to take her in my arms. + </p> + <p> + “Down there, before and behind us, to the left and right, + lighthouses were shining along the shore—lighthouses white, yellow + and red, revolving like the enormous eyes of giants who were watching us, + waiting eagerly for us to disappear. One of them in especial irritated me. + It went out every thirty seconds and it lit up again immediately. It was + indeed an eye, that one, with its lid incessantly lowered over its fiery + glance. + </p> + <p> + “From time to time the Englishman struck a match to see the hour; + then he put his watch back in his pocket. Suddenly he said to me, over the + heads of his daughters, with tremendous gravity: + </p> + <p> + “'I wish you a happy New Year, Mosieu.' + </p> + <p> + “It was midnight. I held out my hand, which he pressed. Then he said + something in English, and suddenly he and his daughters began to sing 'God + Save the Queen,' which rose through the black and silent air and vanished + into space. + </p> + <p> + “At first I felt a desire to laugh; then I was seized by a powerful, + strange emotion. + </p> + <p> + “It was something sinister and superb, this chant of the + shipwrecked, the condemned, something like a prayer and also like + something grander, something comparable to the ancient 'Ave Caesar + morituri te salutant.' + </p> + <p> + “When they had finished I asked my neighbor to sing a ballad alone, + anything she liked, to make us forget our terrors. She consented, and + immediately her clear young voice rang out into the night. She sang + something which was doubtless sad, because the notes were long drawn out + and hovered, like wounded birds, above the waves. + </p> + <p> + “The sea was rising now and beating upon our wreck. As for me, I + thought only of that voice. And I thought also of the sirens. If a ship + had passed near by us what would the sailors have said? My troubled spirit + lost itself in the dream! A siren! Was she not really a siren, this + daughter of the sea, who had kept me on this worm-eaten ship and who was + soon about to go down with me deep into the waters? + </p> + <p> + “But suddenly we were all five rolling on the deck, because the + Marie Joseph had sunk on her right side. The English girl had fallen upon + me, and before I knew what I was doing, thinking that my last moment was + come, I had caught her in my arms and kissed her cheek, her temple and her + hair. + </p> + <p> + “The ship did not move again, and we, we also, remained motionless. + </p> + <p> + “The father said, 'Kate!' The one whom I was holding answered 'Yes' + and made a movement to free herself. And at that moment I should have + wished the ship to split in two and let me fall with her into the sea. + </p> + <p> + “The Englishman continued: + </p> + <p> + “'A little rocking; it's nothing. I have my three daughters safe.' + </p> + <p> + “Not having seen the oldest, he had thought she was lost overboard! + </p> + <p> + “I rose slowly, and suddenly I made out a light on the sea quite + close to us. I shouted; they answered. It was a boat sent out in search of + us by the hotelkeeper, who had guessed at our imprudence. + </p> + <p> + “We were saved. I was in despair. They picked us up off our raft and + they brought us back to Saint-Martin. + </p> + <p> + “The Englishman began to rub his hand and murmur: + </p> + <p> + “'A good supper! A good supper!' + </p> + <p> + “We did sup. I was not gay. I regretted the Marie Joseph. + </p> + <p> + “We had to separate the next day after much handshaking and many + promises to write. They departed for Biarritz. I wanted to follow them. + </p> + <p> + “I was hard hit. I wanted to ask this little girl to marry me. If we + had passed eight days together, I should have done so! How weak and + incomprehensible a man sometimes is! + </p> + <p> + “Two years passed without my hearing a word from them. Then I + received a letter from New York. She was married and wrote to tell me. And + since then we write to each other every year, on New Year's Day. She tells + me about her life, talks of her children, her sisters, never of her + husband! Why? Ah! why? And as for me, I only talk of the Marie Joseph. + That was perhaps the only woman I have ever loved—no—that I + ever should have loved. Ah, well! who can tell? Circumstances rule one. + And then—and then—all passes. She must be old now; I should + not know her. Ah! she of the bygone time, she of the wreck! What a + creature! Divine! She writes me her hair is white. That caused me terrible + pain. Ah! her yellow hair. No, my English girl exists no longer. How sad + it all is!” + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0054"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + THEODULE SABOT'S CONFESSION + </h2> + <p> + When Sabot entered the inn at Martinville it was a signal for laughter. + What a rogue he was, this Sabot! There was a man who did not like priests, + for instance! Oh, no, oh, no! He did not spare them, the scamp. + </p> + <p> + Sabot (Theodule), a master carpenter, represented liberal thought in + Martinville. He was a tall, thin man, with gray, cunning eyes, and thin + lips, and wore his hair plastered down on his temples. When he said: + “Our holy father, the pope” in a certain manner, everyone + laughed. He made a point of working on Sunday during the hour of mass. He + killed his pig each year on Monday in Holy Week in order to have enough + black pudding to last till Easter, and when the priest passed by, he + always said by way of a joke: “There goes one who has just swallowed + his God off a salver.” + </p> + <p> + The priest, a stout man and also very tall, dreaded him on account of his + boastful talk which attracted followers. The Abbe Maritime was a politic + man, and believed in being diplomatic. There had been a rivalry between + them for ten years, a secret, intense, incessant rivalry. Sabot was + municipal councillor, and they thought he would become mayor, which would + inevitably mean the final overthrow of the church. + </p> + <p> + The elections were about to take place. The church party was shaking in + its shoes in Martinville. + </p> + <p> + One morning the cure set out for Rouen, telling his servant that he was + going to see the archbishop. He returned in two days with a joyous, + triumphant air. And everyone knew the following day that the chancel of + the church was going to be renovated. A sum of six hundred francs had been + contributed by the archbishop out of his private fund. All the old pine + pews were to be removed, and replaced by new pews made of oak. It would be + a big carpentering job, and they talked about it that very evening in all + the houses in the village. + </p> + <p> + Theodule Sabot was not laughing. + </p> + <p> + When he went through the village the following morning, the neighbors, + friends and enemies, all asked him, jokingly: + </p> + <p> + “Are you going to do the work on the chancel of the church?” + </p> + <p> + He could find nothing to say, but he was furious, he was good and angry. + </p> + <p> + Ill-natured people added: + </p> + <p> + “It is a good piece of work; and will bring in not less than two or + three per cent. profit.” + </p> + <p> + Two days later, they heard that the work of renovation had been entrusted + to Celestin Chambrelan, the carpenter from Percheville. Then this was + denied, and it was said that all the pews in the church were going to be + changed. That would be well worth the two thousand francs that had been + demanded of the church administration. + </p> + <p> + Theodule Sabot could not sleep for thinking about it. Never, in all the + memory of man, had a country carpenter undertaken a similar piece of work. + Then a rumor spread abroad that the cure felt very grieved that he had to + give this work to a carpenter who was a stranger in the community, but + that Sabot's opinions were a barrier to his being entrusted with the job. + </p> + <p> + Sabot knew it well. He called at the parsonage just as it was growing + dark. The servant told him that the cure was at church. He went to the + church. + </p> + <p> + Two attendants on the altar of the Virgin, two sour old maids, were + decorating the altar for the month of Mary, under the direction of the + priest, who stood in the middle of the chancel with his portly paunch, + directing the two women who, mounted on chairs, were placing flowers + around the tabernacle. + </p> + <p> + Sabot felt ill at ease in there, as though he were in the house of his + greatest enemy, but the greed of gain was gnawing at his heart. He drew + nearer, holding his cap in his hand, and not paying any attention to the + “demoiselles de la Vierge,” who remained standing startled, + astonished, motionless on their chairs. + </p> + <p> + He faltered: + </p> + <p> + “Good morning, monsieur le cure.” + </p> + <p> + The priest replied without looking at him, all occupied as he was with the + altar: + </p> + <p> + “Good morning, Mr. Carpenter.” + </p> + <p> + Sabot, nonplussed, knew not what to say next. But after a pause he + remarked: + </p> + <p> + “You are making preparations?” + </p> + <p> + Abbe Maritime replied: + </p> + <p> + “Yes, we are near the month of Mary.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, why,” remarked Sabot and then was silent. He would have + liked to retire now without saying anything, but a glance at the chancel + held him back. He saw sixteen seats that had to be remade, six to the + right and eight to the left, the door of the sacristy occupying the place + of two. Sixteen oak seats, that would be worth at most three hundred + francs, and by figuring carefully one might certainly make two hundred + francs on the work if one were not clumsy. + </p> + <p> + Then he stammered out: + </p> + <p> + “I have come about the work.” + </p> + <p> + The cure appeared surprised. He asked: + </p> + <p> + “What work?” + </p> + <p> + “The work to be done,” murmured Sabot, in dismay. + </p> + <p> + Then the priest turned round and looking him straight in the eyes, said: + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean the repairs in the chancel of my church?” + </p> + <p> + At the tone of the abbe, Theodule Sabot felt a chill run down his back and + he once more had a longing to take to his heels. However, he replied + humbly: + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes, monsieur le cure.” + </p> + <p> + Then the abbe folded his arms across his large stomach and, as if filled + with amazement, said: + </p> + <p> + “Is it you—you—you, Sabot—who have come to ask me + for this . . . You—the only irreligious man in my parish! Why, it + would be a scandal, a public scandal! The archbishop would give me a + reprimand, perhaps transfer me.” + </p> + <p> + He stopped a few seconds, for breath, and then resumed in a calmer tone: + “I can understand that it pains you to see a work of such importance + entrusted to a carpenter from a neighboring parish. But I cannot do + otherwise, unless—but no—it is impossible—you would not + consent, and unless you did, never.” + </p> + <p> + Sabot now looked at the row of benches in line as far as the entrance + door. Christopher, if they were going to change all those! + </p> + <p> + And he asked: + </p> + <p> + “What would you require of me? Tell me.” + </p> + <p> + The priest, in a firm tone replied: + </p> + <p> + “I must have an extraordinary token of your good intentions.” + </p> + <p> + “I do not say—I do not say; perhaps we might come to an + understanding,” faltered Sabot. + </p> + <p> + “You will have to take communion publicly at high mass next Sunday,” + declared the cure. + </p> + <p> + The carpenter felt he was growing pale, and without replying, he asked: + </p> + <p> + “And the benches, are they going to be renovated?” + </p> + <p> + The abbe replied with confidence: + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but later on.” + </p> + <p> + Sabot resumed: + </p> + <p> + “I do not say, I do not say. I am not calling it off, I am + consenting to religion, for sure. But what rubs me the wrong way is, + putting it in practice; but in this case I will not be refractory.” + </p> + <p> + The attendants of the Virgin, having got off their chairs had concealed + themselves behind the altar; and they listened pale with emotion. + </p> + <p> + The cure, seeing he had gained the victory, became all at once very + friendly, quite familiar. + </p> + <p> + “That is good, that is good. That was wisely said, and not stupid, + you understand. You will see, you will see.” + </p> + <p> + Sabot smiled and asked with an awkward air: + </p> + <p> + “Would it not be possible to put off this communion just a trifle?” + </p> + <p> + But the priest replied, resuming his severe expression: + </p> + <p> + “From the moment that the work is put into your hands, I want to be + assured of your conversion.” + </p> + <p> + Then he continued more gently: + </p> + <p> + “You will come to confession to-morrow; for I must examine you at + least twice.” + </p> + <p> + “Twice?” repeated Sabot. + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + The priest smiled. + </p> + <p> + “You understand perfectly that you must have a general cleaning up, + a thorough cleansing. So I will expect you to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + The carpenter, much agitated, asked: + </p> + <p> + “Where do you do that?” + </p> + <p> + “Why—in the confessional.” + </p> + <p> + “In—that box, over there in the corner? The fact is—is—that + it does not suit me, your box.” + </p> + <p> + “How is that?” + </p> + <p> + “Seeing that—seeing that I am not accustomed to that, and also + I am rather hard of hearing.” + </p> + <p> + The cure was very affable and said: + </p> + <p> + “Well, then! you shall come to my house and into my parlor. We will + have it just the two of us, tete-a-tete. Does that suit you?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, that is all right, that will suit me, but your box, no.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, to-morrow after the days work, at six o'clock.” + </p> + <p> + “That is understood, that is all right, that is agreed on. + To-morrow, monsieur le cure. Whoever draws back is a skunk!” + </p> + <p> + And he held out his great rough hand which the priest grasped heartily + with a clap that resounded through the church. + </p> + <p> + Theodule Sabot was not easy in his mind all the following day. He had a + feeling analogous to the apprehension one experiences when a tooth has to + be drawn. The thought recurred to him at every moment: “I must go to + confession this evening.” And his troubled mind, the mind of an + atheist only half convinced, was bewildered with a confused and + overwhelming dread of the divine mystery. + </p> + <p> + As soon as he had finished his work, he betook himself to the parsonage. + The cure was waiting for him in the garden, reading his breviary as he + walked along a little path. He appeared radiant and greeted him with a + good-natured laugh. + </p> + <p> + “Well, here we are! Come in, come in, Monsieur Sabot, no one will + eat you.” + </p> + <p> + And Sabot preceded him into the house. He faltered: + </p> + <p> + “If you do not mind I should like to get through with this little + matter at once.” + </p> + <p> + The cure replied: + </p> + <p> + “I am at your service. I have my surplice here. One minute and I + will listen to you.” + </p> + <p> + The carpenter, so disturbed that he had not two ideas in his head, watched + him as he put on the white vestment with its pleated folds. The priest + beckoned to him and said: + </p> + <p> + “Kneel down on this cushion.” + </p> + <p> + Sabot remained standing, ashamed of having to kneel. He stuttered: + </p> + <p> + “Is it necessary?” + </p> + <p> + But the abbe had become dignified. + </p> + <p> + “You cannot approach the penitent bench except on your knees.” + </p> + <p> + And Sabot knelt down. + </p> + <p> + “Repeat the confiteor,” said the priest. + </p> + <p> + “What is that?” asked Sabot. + </p> + <p> + “The confiteor. If you do not remember it, repeat after me, one by + one, the words I am going to say.” And the cure repeated the sacred + prayer, in a slow tone, emphasizing the words which the carpenter repeated + after him. Then he said: + </p> + <p> + “Now make your confession.” + </p> + <p> + But Sabot was silent, not knowing where to begin. The abbe then came to + his aid. + </p> + <p> + “My child, I will ask you questions, since you don't seem familiar + with these things. We will take, one by one, the commandments of God. + Listen to me and do not be disturbed. Speak very frankly and never fear + that you may say too much. + </p> +<div class='pre'> + “'One God alone, thou shalt adore, + And love him perfectly.' +</div> + <p> + “Have you ever loved anything, or anybody, as well as you loved God? + Have you loved him with all your soul, all your heart, all the strength of + your love?” + </p> + <p> + Sabot was perspiring with the effort of thinking. He replied: + </p> + <p> + “No. Oh, no, m'sieu le cure. I love God as much as I can. That is + —yes—I love him very much. To say that I do not love my + children, no—I cannot say that. To say that if I had to choose + between them and God, I could not be sure. To say that if I had to lose a + hundred francs for the love of God, I could not say about that. But I love + him well, for sure, I love him all the same.” The priest said + gravely “You must love Him more than all besides.” And Sabot, + meaning well, declared “I will do what I possibly can, m'sieu le + cure.” The abbe resumed: + </p> +<div class='pre'> + “'God's name in vain thou shalt not take + Nor swear by any other thing.' +</div> + <p> + “Did you ever swear?” + </p> + <p> + “No-oh, that, no! I never swear, never. Sometimes, in a moment of + anger, I may say sacre nom de Dieu! But then, I never swear.” + </p> + <p> + “That is swearing,” cried the priest, and added seriously: + </p> + <p> + “Do not do it again. + </p> +<div class='pre'> + “'Thy Sundays thou shalt keep + In serving God devoutly.' +</div> + <p> + “What do you do on Sunday?” + </p> + <p> + This time Sabot scratched his ear. + </p> + <p> + “Why, I serve God as best I can, m'sieu le cure. I serve him—at + home. I work on Sunday.” + </p> + <p> + The cure interrupted him, saying magnanimously: + </p> + <p> + “I know, you will do better in future. I will pass over the + following commandments, certain that you have not transgressed the two + first. We will take from the sixth to the ninth. I will resume: + </p> +<div class='pre'> + “'Others' goods thou shalt not take + Nor keep what is not thine.' +</div> + <p> + “Have you ever taken in any way what belonged to another?” + </p> + <p> + But Theodule Sabot became indignant. + </p> + <p> + “Of course not, of course not! I am an honest man, m'sieu le cure, I + swear it, for sure. To say that I have not sometimes charged for a few + more hours of work to customers who had means, I could not say that. To + say that I never add a few centimes to bills, only a few, I would not say + that. But to steal, no! Oh, not that, no!” + </p> + <p> + The priest resumed severely: + </p> + <p> + “To take one single centime constitutes a theft. Do not do it again. + </p> +<div class='pre'> + 'False witness thou shalt not bear, + Nor lie in any way.' +</div> + <p> + “Have you ever told a lie?” + </p> + <p> + “No, as to that, no. I am not a liar. That is my quality. To say + that I have never told a big story, I would not like to say that. To say + that I have never made people believe things that were not true when it + was to my own interest, I would not like to say that. But as for lying, I + am not a liar.” + </p> + <p> + The priest simply said: + </p> + <p> + “Watch yourself more closely.” Then he continued: + </p> +<div class='pre'> + “'The works of the flesh thou shalt not desire + Except in marriage only.' +</div> + <p> + “Did you ever desire, or live with, any other woman than your wife?” + </p> + <p> + Sabot exclaimed with sincerity: + </p> + <p> + “As to that, no; oh, as to that, no, m'sieu le Cure. My poor wife, + deceive her! No, no! Not so much as the tip of a finger, either in thought + or in act. That is the truth.” + </p> + <p> + They were silent a few seconds, then, in a lower tone, as though a doubt + had arisen in his mind, he resumed: + </p> + <p> + “When I go to town, to say that I never go into a house, you know, + one of the licensed houses, just to laugh and talk and see something + different, I could not say that. But I always pay, monsieur le cure, I + always pay. From the moment you pay, without anyone seeing or knowing you, + no one can get you into trouble.” + </p> + <p> + The cure did not insist, and gave him absolution. + </p> + <p> + Theodule Sabot did the work on the chancel, and goes to communion every + month. + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0055"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + THE WRONG HOUSE + </h2> + <p> + Quartermaster Varajou had obtained a week's leave to go and visit his + sister, Madame Padoie. Varajou, who was in garrison at Rennes and was + leading a pretty gay life, finding himself high and dry, wrote to his + sister saying that he would devote a week to her. It was not that he cared + particularly for Mme. Padoie, a little moralist, a devotee, and always + cross; but he needed money, needed it very badly, and he remembered that, + of all his relations, the Padoies were the only ones whom he had never + approached on the subject. + </p> + <p> + Pere Varajou, formerly a horticulturist at Angers, but now retired from + business, had closed his purse strings to his scapegrace son and had + hardly seen him for two years. His daughter had married Padoie, a former + treasury clerk, who had just been appointed tax collector at Vannes. + </p> + <p> + Varajou, on leaving the train, had some one direct him to the house of his + brother-in-law, whom he found in his office arguing with the Breton + peasants of the neighborhood. Padoie rose from his seat, held out his hand + across the table littered with papers, murmured, “Take a chair. I + will be at liberty in a moment,” sat down again and resumed his + discussion. + </p> + <p> + The peasants did not understand his explanations, the collector did not + understand their line of argument. He spoke French, they spoke Breton, and + the clerk who acted as interpreter appeared not to understand either. + </p> + <p> + It lasted a long time, a very long time. Varajou looked at his + brother-in-law and thought: “What a fool!” Padoie must have + been almost fifty. He was tall, thin, bony, slow, hairy, with heavy arched + eyebrows. He wore a velvet skull cap with a gold cord vandyke design round + it. His look was gentle, like his actions. His speech, his gestures, his + thoughts, all were soft. Varajou said to himself, “What a fool!” + </p> + <p> + He, himself, was one of those noisy roysterers for whom the greatest + pleasures in life are the cafe and abandoned women. He understood nothing + outside of these conditions of existence. + </p> + <p> + A boisterous braggart, filled with contempt for the rest of the world, he + despised the entire universe from the height of his ignorance. When he + said: “Nom d'un chien, what a spree!” he expressed the highest + degree of admiration of which his mind was capable. + </p> + <p> + Having finally got rid of his peasants, Padoie inquired: + </p> + <p> + “How are you?” + </p> + <p> + “Pretty well, as you see. And how are you?” + </p> + <p> + “Quite well, thank you. It is very kind of you to have thought of + coming to see us.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I have been thinking of it for some time; but, you know, in the + military profession one has not much freedom.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I know, I know. All the same, it is very kind of you.” + </p> + <p> + “And Josephine, is she well?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes, thank you; you will see her presently.” “Where + is she?” + </p> + <p> + “She is making some calls. We have a great many friends here; it is + a very nice town.” + </p> + <p> + “I thought so.” + </p> + <p> + The door opened and Mme. Padoie appeared. She went over to her brother + without any eagerness, held her cheek for him to kiss, and asked: + </p> + <p> + “Have you been here long?” + </p> + <p> + “No, hardly half an hour.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I thought the train would be late. Will you come into the + parlor?” + </p> + <p> + They went into the adjoining room, leaving Padoie to his accounts and his + taxpayers. As soon as they were alone, she said: + </p> + <p> + “I have heard nice things about you!” + </p> + <p> + “What have you heard?” + </p> + <p> + “It seems that you are behaving like a blackguard, getting drunk and + contracting debts.” + </p> + <p> + He appeared very much astonished. + </p> + <p> + “I! never in the world!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, do not deny it, I know it.” + </p> + <p> + He attempted to defend himself, but she gave him such a lecture that he + could say nothing more. + </p> + <p> + She then resumed: + </p> + <p> + “We dine at six o'clock, and you can amuse yourself until then. I + cannot entertain you, as I have so many things to do.” + </p> + <p> + When he was alone he hesitated as to whether he should sleep or take a + walk. He looked first at the door leading to his room and then at the hall + door, and decided to go out. He sauntered slowly through the quiet Breton + town, so sleepy, so calm, so dead, on the shores of its inland bay that is + called “le Morbihan.” He looked at the little gray houses, the + occasional pedestrians, the empty stores, and he murmured: + </p> + <p> + “Vannes is certainly not gay, not lively. It was a sad idea, my + coming here.” + </p> + <p> + He reached the harbor, the desolate harbor, walked back along a lonely, + deserted boulevard, and got home before five o'clock. Then he threw + himself on his bed to sleep till dinner time. The maid woke him, knocking + at the door. + </p> + <p> + “Dinner is ready, sir:” + </p> + <p> + He went downstairs. In the damp dining-room with the paper peeling from + the walls near the floor, he saw a soup tureen on a round table without + any table cloth, on which were also three melancholy soup-plates. + </p> + <p> + M. and Mme. Padoie entered the room at the same time as Varajou. They all + sat down to table, and the husband and wife crossed themselves over the + pit of their stomachs, after which Padoie helped the soup, a meat soup. It + was the day for pot-roast. + </p> + <p> + After the soup, they had the beef, which was done to rags, melted, greasy, + like pap. The officer ate slowly, with disgust, weariness and rage. + </p> + <p> + Mme. Padoie said to her husband: + </p> + <p> + “Are you going to the judge's house this evening?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, dear.” + </p> + <p> + “Do not stay late. You always get so tired when you go out. You are + not made for society, with your poor health.” + </p> + <p> + She then talked about society in Vannes, of the excellent social circle in + which the Padoies moved, thanks to their religious sentiments. + </p> + <p> + A puree of potatoes and a dish of pork were next served, in honor of the + guest. Then some cheese, and that was all. No coffee. + </p> + <p> + When Varajou saw that he would have to spend the evening tete-a-tete with + his sister, endure her reproaches, listen to her sermons, without even a + glass of liqueur to help him to swallow these remonstrances, he felt that + he could not stand the torture, and declared that he was obliged to go to + the police station to have something attended to regarding his leave of + absence. And he made his escape at seven o'clock. + </p> + <p> + He had scarcely reached the street before he gave himself a shake like a + dog coming out of the water. He muttered: + </p> + <p> + “Heavens, heavens, heavens, what a galley slave's life!” + </p> + <p> + And he set out to look for a cafe, the best in the town. He found it on a + public square, behind two gas lamps. Inside the cafe, five or six men, + semi-gentlemen, and not noisy, were drinking and chatting quietly, leaning + their elbows on the small tables, while two billiard players walked round + the green baize, where the balls were hitting each other as they rolled. + </p> + <p> + One heard them counting: + </p> + <p> + “Eighteen-nineteen. No luck. Oh, that's a good stroke! Well played! + Eleven. You should have played on the red. Twenty. Froze! Froze! Twelve. + Ha! Wasn't I right?” + </p> + <p> + Varajou ordered: + </p> + <p> + “A demi-tasse and a small decanter of brandy, the best.” Then + he sat down and waited for it. + </p> + <p> + He was accustomed to spending his evenings off duty with his companions, + amid noise and the smoke of pipes. This silence, this quiet, exasperated + him. He began to drink; first the coffee, then the brandy, and asked for + another decanter. He now wanted to laugh, to shout, to sing, to fight some + one. He said to himself: + </p> + <p> + “Gee, I am half full. I must go and have a good time.” + </p> + <p> + And he thought he would go and look for some girls to amuse him. He called + the waiter: + </p> + <p> + “Hey, waiter.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Tell me, where does one amuse oneself here?” + </p> + <p> + The man looked stupid, and replied: + </p> + <p> + “I do not know, sir. Here, I suppose!” + </p> + <p> + “How do you mean here? What do you call amusing oneself, yourself?” + </p> + <p> + “I do not know, sir, drinking good beer or good wine.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, go away, dummy, how about the girls?” + </p> + <p> + “The girls, ah! ah!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, the girls, where can one find any here?” + </p> + <p> + “Girls?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes, girls!” + </p> + <p> + The boy approached and lowering his voice, said: “You want to know + where they live?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes, the devil!” + </p> + <p> + “You take the second street to the left and then the first to the + right. It is number fifteen.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, old man. There is something for you.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, sir.” + </p> + <p> + And Varajou went out of the cafe, repeating, “Second to the left, + first to the right, number 15.” But at the end of a few seconds he + thought, “second to the left yes. But on leaving the cafe must I + walk to the right or the left? Bah, it cannot be helped, we shall see.” + </p> + <p> + And he walked on, turned down the second street to the left, then the + first to the right and looked for number 15. It was a nice looking house, + and one could see behind the closed blinds that the windows were lighted + up on the first floor. The hall door was left partly open, and a lamp was + burning in the vestibule. The non-commissioned officer thought to himself: + </p> + <p> + “This looks all right.” + </p> + <p> + He went in and, as no one appeared, he called out: + </p> + <p> + “Hallo there, hallo!” + </p> + <p> + A little maid appeared and looked astonished at seeing a soldier. He said: + </p> + <p> + “Good-morning, my child. Are the ladies upstairs?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “In the parlor?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “May I go up?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “The door opposite the stairs?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir.” + </p> + <p> + He ascended the stairs, opened a door and saw sitting in a room well + lighted up by two lamps, a chandelier, and two candelabras with candles in + them, four ladies in evening dress, apparently expecting some one. + </p> + <p> + Three of them, the younger ones, remained seated, with rather a formal + air, on some crimson velvet chairs; while the fourth, who was about + forty-five, was arranging some flowers in a vase. She was very stout, and + wore a green silk dress with low neck and short sleeves, allowing her red + neck, covered with powder, to escape as a huge flower might from its + corolla. + </p> + <p> + The officer saluted them, saying: + </p> + <p> + “Good-day, ladies.” + </p> + <p> + The older woman turned round, appeared surprised, but bowed. + </p> + <p> + “Good-morning, sir.” + </p> + <p> + He sat down. But seeing that they did not welcome him eagerly, he thought + that possibly only commissioned officers were admitted to the house, and + this made him uneasy. But he said: + </p> + <p> + “Bah, if one comes in, we can soon tell.” + </p> + <p> + He then remarked: + </p> + <p> + “Are you all well?” + </p> + <p> + The large lady, no doubt the mistress of the house, replied: + </p> + <p> + “Very well, thank you!” + </p> + <p> + He could think of nothing else to say, and they were all silent. But at + last, being ashamed of his bashfulness, and with an awkward laugh, he + said: + </p> + <p> + “Do not people have any amusement in this country? I will pay for a + bottle of wine.” + </p> + <p> + He had not finished his sentence when the door opened, and in walked + Padoie dressed in a black suit. + </p> + <p> + Varajou gave a shout of joy, and rising from his seat, he rushed at his + brother-in-law, put his arms round him and waltzed him round the room, + shouting: + </p> + <p> + “Here is Padoie! Here is Padoie! Here is Padoie!” + </p> + <p> + Then letting go of the tax collector he exclaimed as he looked him in the + face: + </p> + <p> + “Oh, oh, oh, you scamp, you scamp! You are out for a good time, too. + Oh, you scamp! And my sister! Are you tired of her, say?” + </p> + <p> + As he thought of all that he might gain through this unexpected situation, + the forced loan, the inevitable blackmail, he flung himself on the lounge + and laughed so heartily that the piece of furniture creaked all over. + </p> + <p> + The three young ladies, rising simultaneously, made their escape, while + the older woman retreated to the door looking as though she were about to + faint. + </p> + <p> + And then two gentlemen appeared in evening dress, and wearing the ribbon + of an order. Padoie rushed up to them. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, judge—he is crazy, he is crazy. He was sent to us as a + convalescent. You can see that he is crazy.” + </p> + <p> + Varajou was sitting up now, and not being able to understand it all, he + guessed that he had committed some monstrous folly. Then he rose, and + turning to his brother-in-law, said: + </p> + <p> + “What house is this?” + </p> + <p> + But Padoie, becoming suddenly furious, stammered out: + </p> + <p> + “What house—what—what house is this? Wretch—scoundrel—villain—what + house, indeed? The house of the judge—of the judge of the Supreme + Court—of the Supreme Court—of the Supreme Court—Oh, oh—rascal! + —rascal!—rascal!” + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0056"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + THE DIAMOND NECKLACE + </h2> + <p> + The girl was one of those pretty and charming young creatures who + sometimes are born, as if by a slip of fate, into a family of clerks. She + had no dowry, no expectations, no way of being known, understood, loved, + married by any rich and distinguished man; so she let herself be married + to a little clerk of the Ministry of Public Instruction. + </p> + <p> + She dressed plainly because she could not dress well, but she was unhappy + as if she had really fallen from a higher station; since with women there + is neither caste nor rank, for beauty, grace and charm take the place of + family and birth. Natural ingenuity, instinct for what is elegant, a + supple mind are their sole hierarchy, and often make of women of the + people the equals of the very greatest ladies. + </p> + <p> + Mathilde suffered ceaselessly, feeling herself born to enjoy all + delicacies and all luxuries. She was distressed at the poverty of her + dwelling, at the bareness of the walls, at the shabby chairs, the ugliness + of the curtains. All those things, of which another woman of her rank + would never even have been conscious, tortured her and made her angry. The + sight of the little Breton peasant who did her humble housework aroused in + her despairing regrets and bewildering dreams. She thought of silent + antechambers hung with Oriental tapestry, illumined by tall bronze + candelabra, and of two great footmen in knee breeches who sleep in the big + armchairs, made drowsy by the oppressive heat of the stove. She thought of + long reception halls hung with ancient silk, of the dainty cabinets + containing priceless curiosities and of the little coquettish perfumed + reception rooms made for chatting at five o'clock with intimate friends, + with men famous and sought after, whom all women envy and whose attention + they all desire. + </p> + <p> + When she sat down to dinner, before the round table covered with a + tablecloth in use three days, opposite her husband, who uncovered the soup + tureen and declared with a delighted air, “Ah, the good soup! I + don't know anything better than that,” she thought of dainty + dinners, of shining silverware, of tapestry that peopled the walls with + ancient personages and with strange birds flying in the midst of a fairy + forest; and she thought of delicious dishes served on marvellous plates + and of the whispered gallantries to which you listen with a sphinxlike + smile while you are eating the pink meat of a trout or the wings of a + quail. + </p> + <p> + She had no gowns, no jewels, nothing. And she loved nothing but that. She + felt made for that. She would have liked so much to please, to be envied, + to be charming, to be sought after. + </p> + <p> + She had a friend, a former schoolmate at the convent, who was rich, and + whom she did not like to go to see any more because she felt so sad when + she came home. + </p> + <p> + But one evening her husband reached home with a triumphant air and holding + a large envelope in his hand. + </p> + <p> + “There,” said he, “there is something for you.” + </p> + <p> + She tore the paper quickly and drew out a printed card which bore these + words: + </p> +<div class='pre'> + The Minister of Public Instruction and Madame Georges Ramponneau + request the honor of M. and Madame Loisel's company at the palace of + the Ministry on Monday evening, January 18th. +</div> + <p> + Instead of being delighted, as her husband had hoped, she threw the + invitation on the table crossly, muttering: + </p> + <p> + “What do you wish me to do with that?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, my dear, I thought you would be glad. You never go out, and + this is such a fine opportunity. I had great trouble to get it. Every one + wants to go; it is very select, and they are not giving many invitations + to clerks. The whole official world will be there.” + </p> + <p> + She looked at him with an irritated glance and said impatiently: + </p> + <p> + “And what do you wish me to put on my back?” + </p> + <p> + He had not thought of that. He stammered: + </p> + <p> + “Why, the gown you go to the theatre in. It looks very well to me.” + </p> + <p> + He stopped, distracted, seeing that his wife was weeping. Two great tears + ran slowly from the corners of her eyes toward the corners of her mouth. + </p> + <p> + “What's the matter? What's the matter?” he answered. + </p> + <p> + By a violent effort she conquered her grief and replied in a calm voice, + while she wiped her wet cheeks: + </p> + <p> + “Nothing. Only I have no gown, and, therefore, I can't go to this + ball. Give your card to some colleague whose wife is better equipped than + I am.” + </p> + <p> + He was in despair. He resumed: + </p> + <p> + “Come, let us see, Mathilde. How much would it cost, a suitable + gown, which you could use on other occasions—something very simple?” + </p> + <p> + She reflected several seconds, making her calculations and wondering also + what sum she could ask without drawing on herself an immediate refusal and + a frightened exclamation from the economical clerk. + </p> + <p> + Finally she replied hesitating: + </p> + <p> + “I don't know exactly, but I think I could manage it with four + hundred francs.” + </p> + <p> + He grew a little pale, because he was laying aside just that amount to buy + a gun and treat himself to a little shooting next summer on the plain of + Nanterre, with several friends who went to shoot larks there of a Sunday. + </p> + <p> + But he said: + </p> + <p> + “Very well. I will give you four hundred francs. And try to have a + pretty gown.” + </p> + <p> + The day of the ball drew near and Madame Loisel seemed sad, uneasy, + anxious. Her frock was ready, however. Her husband said to her one + evening: + </p> + <p> + “What is the matter? Come, you have seemed very queer these last + three days.” + </p> + <p> + And she answered: + </p> + <p> + “It annoys me not to have a single piece of jewelry, not a single + ornament, nothing to put on. I shall look poverty-stricken. I would almost + rather not go at all.” + </p> + <p> + “You might wear natural flowers,” said her husband. “They're + very stylish at this time of year. For ten francs you can get two or three + magnificent roses.” + </p> + <p> + She was not convinced. + </p> + <p> + “No; there's nothing more humiliating than to look poor among other + women who are rich.” + </p> + <p> + “How stupid you are!” her husband cried. “Go look up + your friend, Madame Forestier, and ask her to lend you some jewels. You're + intimate enough with her to do that.” + </p> + <p> + She uttered a cry of joy: + </p> + <p> + “True! I never thought of it.” + </p> + <p> + The next day she went to her friend and told her of her distress. + </p> + <p> + Madame Forestier went to a wardrobe with a mirror, took out a large jewel + box, brought it back, opened it and said to Madame Loisel: + </p> + <p> + “Choose, my dear.” + </p> + <p> + She saw first some bracelets, then a pearl necklace, then a Venetian gold + cross set with precious stones, of admirable workmanship. She tried on the + ornaments before the mirror, hesitated and could not make up her mind to + part with them, to give them back. She kept asking: + </p> + <p> + “Haven't you any more?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes. Look further; I don't know what you like.” + </p> + <p> + Suddenly she discovered, in a black satin box, a superb diamond necklace, + and her heart throbbed with an immoderate desire. Her hands trembled as + she took it. She fastened it round her throat, outside her high-necked + waist, and was lost in ecstasy at her reflection in the mirror. + </p> + <p> + Then she asked, hesitating, filled with anxious doubt: + </p> + <p> + “Will you lend me this, only this?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes, certainly.” + </p> + <p> + She threw her arms round her friend's neck, kissed her passionately, then + fled with her treasure. + </p> + <p> + The night of the ball arrived. Madame Loisel was a great success. She was + prettier than any other woman present, elegant, graceful, smiling and wild + with joy. All the men looked at her, asked her name, sought to be + introduced. All the attaches of the Cabinet wished to waltz with her. She + was remarked by the minister himself. + </p> + <p> + She danced with rapture, with passion, intoxicated by pleasure, forgetting + all in the triumph of her beauty, in the glory of her success, in a sort + of cloud of happiness comprised of all this homage, admiration, these + awakened desires and of that sense of triumph which is so sweet to woman's + heart. + </p> + <p> + She left the ball about four o'clock in the morning. Her husband had been + sleeping since midnight in a little deserted anteroom with three other + gentlemen whose wives were enjoying the ball. + </p> + <p> + He threw over her shoulders the wraps he had brought, the modest wraps of + common life, the poverty of which contrasted with the elegance of the ball + dress. She felt this and wished to escape so as not to be remarked by the + other women, who were enveloping themselves in costly furs. + </p> + <p> + Loisel held her back, saying: “Wait a bit. You will catch cold + outside. I will call a cab.” + </p> + <p> + But she did not listen to him and rapidly descended the stairs. When they + reached the street they could not find a carriage and began to look for + one, shouting after the cabmen passing at a distance. + </p> + <p> + They went toward the Seine in despair, shivering with cold. At last they + found on the quay one of those ancient night cabs which, as though they + were ashamed to show their shabbiness during the day, are never seen round + Paris until after dark. + </p> + <p> + It took them to their dwelling in the Rue des Martyrs, and sadly they + mounted the stairs to their flat. All was ended for her. As to him, he + reflected that he must be at the ministry at ten o'clock that morning. + </p> + <p> + She removed her wraps before the glass so as to see herself once more in + all her glory. But suddenly she uttered a cry. She no longer had the + necklace around her neck! + </p> + <p> + “What is the matter with you?” demanded her husband, already + half undressed. + </p> + <p> + She turned distractedly toward him. + </p> + <p> + “I have—I have—I've lost Madame Forestier's necklace,” + she cried. + </p> + <p> + He stood up, bewildered. + </p> + <p> + “What!—how? Impossible!” + </p> + <p> + They looked among the folds of her skirt, of her cloak, in her pockets, + everywhere, but did not find it. + </p> + <p> + “You're sure you had it on when you left the ball?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I felt it in the vestibule of the minister's house.” + </p> + <p> + “But if you had lost it in the street we should have heard it fall. + It must be in the cab.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, probably. Did you take his number?” + </p> + <p> + “No. And you—didn't you notice it?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + They looked, thunderstruck, at each other. At last Loisel put on his + clothes. + </p> + <p> + “I shall go back on foot,” said he, “over the whole + route, to see whether I can find it.” + </p> + <p> + He went out. She sat waiting on a chair in her ball dress, without + strength to go to bed, overwhelmed, without any fire, without a thought. + </p> + <p> + Her husband returned about seven o'clock. He had found nothing. + </p> + <p> + He went to police headquarters, to the newspaper offices to offer a + reward; he went to the cab companies—everywhere, in fact, whither he + was urged by the least spark of hope. + </p> + <p> + She waited all day, in the same condition of mad fear before this terrible + calamity. + </p> + <p> + Loisel returned at night with a hollow, pale face. He had discovered + nothing. + </p> + <p> + “You must write to your friend,” said he, “that you have + broken the clasp of her necklace and that you are having it mended. That + will give us time to turn round.” + </p> + <p> + She wrote at his dictation. + </p> + <p> + At the end of a week they had lost all hope. Loisel, who had aged five + years, declared: + </p> + <p> + “We must consider how to replace that ornament.” + </p> + <p> + The next day they took the box that had contained it and went to the + jeweler whose name was found within. He consulted his books. + </p> + <p> + “It was not I, madame, who sold that necklace; I must simply have + furnished the case.” + </p> + <p> + Then they went from jeweler to jeweler, searching for a necklace like the + other, trying to recall it, both sick with chagrin and grief. + </p> + <p> + They found, in a shop at the Palais Royal, a string of diamonds that + seemed to them exactly like the one they had lost. It was worth forty + thousand francs. They could have it for thirty-six. + </p> + <p> + So they begged the jeweler not to sell it for three days yet. And they + made a bargain that he should buy it back for thirty-four thousand francs, + in case they should find the lost necklace before the end of February. + </p> + <p> + Loisel possessed eighteen thousand francs which his father had left him. + He would borrow the rest. + </p> + <p> + He did borrow, asking a thousand francs of one, five hundred of another, + five louis here, three louis there. He gave notes, took up ruinous + obligations, dealt with usurers and all the race of lenders. He + compromised all the rest of his life, risked signing a note without even + knowing whether he could meet it; and, frightened by the trouble yet to + come, by the black misery that was about to fall upon him, by the prospect + of all the physical privations and moral tortures that he was to suffer, + he went to get the new necklace, laying upon the jeweler's counter + thirty-six thousand francs. + </p> + <p> + When Madame Loisel took back the necklace Madame Forestier said to her + with a chilly manner: + </p> + <p> + “You should have returned it sooner; I might have needed it.” + </p> + <p> + She did not open the case, as her friend had so much feared. If she had + detected the substitution, what would she have thought, what would she + have said? Would she not have taken Madame Loisel for a thief? + </p> + <p> + Thereafter Madame Loisel knew the horrible existence of the needy. She + bore her part, however, with sudden heroism. That dreadful debt must be + paid. She would pay it. They dismissed their servant; they changed their + lodgings; they rented a garret under the roof. + </p> + <p> + She came to know what heavy housework meant and the odious cares of the + kitchen. She washed the dishes, using her dainty fingers and rosy nails on + greasy pots and pans. She washed the soiled linen, the shirts and the + dishcloths, which she dried upon a line; she carried the slops down to the + street every morning and carried up the water, stopping for breath at + every landing. And dressed like a woman of the people, she went to the + fruiterer, the grocer, the butcher, a basket on her arm, bargaining, + meeting with impertinence, defending her miserable money, sou by sou. + </p> + <p> + Every month they had to meet some notes, renew others, obtain more time. + </p> + <p> + Her husband worked evenings, making up a tradesman's accounts, and late at + night he often copied manuscript for five sous a page. + </p> + <p> + This life lasted ten years. + </p> + <p> + At the end of ten years they had paid everything, everything, with the + rates of usury and the accumulations of the compound interest. + </p> + <p> + Madame Loisel looked old now. She had become the woman of impoverished + households—strong and hard and rough. With frowsy hair, skirts askew + and red hands, she talked loud while washing the floor with great swishes + of water. But sometimes, when her husband was at the office, she sat down + near the window and she thought of that gay evening of long ago, of that + ball where she had been so beautiful and so admired. + </p> + <p> + What would have happened if she had not lost that necklace? Who knows? who + knows? How strange and changeful is life! How small a thing is needed to + make or ruin us! + </p> + <p> + But one Sunday, having gone to take a walk in the Champs Elysees to + refresh herself after the labors of the week, she suddenly perceived a + woman who was leading a child. It was Madame Forestier, still young, still + beautiful, still charming. + </p> + <p> + Madame Loisel felt moved. Should she speak to her? Yes, certainly. And now + that she had paid, she would tell her all about it. Why not? + </p> + <p> + She went up. + </p> + <p> + “Good-day, Jeanne.” + </p> + <p> + The other, astonished to be familiarly addressed by this plain good-wife, + did not recognize her at all and stammered: + </p> + <p> + “But—madame!—I do not know—You must have mistaken.” + </p> + <p> + “No. I am Mathilde Loisel.” + </p> + <p> + Her friend uttered a cry. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, my poor Mathilde! How you are changed!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I have had a pretty hard life, since I last saw you, and great + poverty—and that because of you!” + </p> + <p> + “Of me! How so?” + </p> + <p> + “Do you remember that diamond necklace you lent me to wear at the + ministerial ball?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Well?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I lost it.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean? You brought it back.” + </p> + <p> + “I brought you back another exactly like it. And it has taken us ten + years to pay for it. You can understand that it was not easy for us, for + us who had nothing. At last it is ended, and I am very glad.” + </p> + <p> + Madame Forestier had stopped. + </p> + <p> + “You say that you bought a necklace of diamonds to replace mine?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. You never noticed it, then! They were very similar.” + </p> + <p> + And she smiled with a joy that was at once proud and ingenuous. + </p> + <p> + Madame Forestier, deeply moved, took her hands. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, my poor Mathilde! Why, my necklace was paste! It was worth at + most only five hundred francs!” + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0057"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + THE MARQUIS DE FUMEROL + </h2> + <p> + Roger de Tourneville was whiffing a cigar and blowing out small clouds of + smoke every now and then, as he sat astride a chair amid a party of + friends. He was talking. + </p> + <p> + “We were at dinner when a letter was brought in which my father + opened. You know my father, who thinks that he is king of France ad + interim. I call him Don Quixote, because for twelve years he has been + running a tilt against the windmill of the Republic, without quite knowing + whether it was in the cause of the Bourbons or the Orleanists. At present + he is bearing the lance in the cause of the Orleanists alone, because + there is no one else left. In any case, he thinks himself the first + gentleman of France, the best known, the most influential, the head of the + party; and as he is an irremovable senator, he thinks that the thrones of + the neighboring kings are very insecure. + </p> + <p> + “As for my mother, she is my father's soul, she is the soul of the + kingdom and of religion, and the scourge of all evil-thinkers. + </p> + <p> + “Well, a letter was brought in while we were at dinner, and my + father opened and read it, and then he said to mother: 'Your brother is + dying.' She grew very pale. My uncle was scarcely ever mentioned in the + house, and I did not know him at all; all I knew from public talk was, + that he had led, and was still leading, a gay life. After having spent his + fortune in fast living, he was now in small apartments in the Rue des + Martyrs. + </p> + <p> + “An ancient peer of France and former colonel of cavalry, it was + said that he believed in neither God nor devil. Not believing, therefore, + in a future life he had abused the present life in every way, and had + become a live wound in my mother's heart. + </p> + <p> + “'Give me that letter, Paul,' she said, and when she read it, I + asked for it in my turn. Here it is: + </p> +<div class='pre'> + 'Monsieur le Comte, I think I ought to let you know that your + brother-in-law, the Comte Fumerol, is going to die. Perhaps you + would like to make some arrangements, and do not forget I told you. + Your servant, + 'MELANIE.' +</div> + <p> + “'We must take counsel,' papa murmured. 'In my position, I ought to + watch over your brother's last moments.' + </p> + <p> + “Mamma continued: 'I will send for Abbe Poivron and ask his advice, + and then I will go to my brother with the abbe and Roger. Remain here, + Paul, for you must not compromise yourself; but a woman can, and ought to + do these things. For a politician in your position, it is another matter. + It would be a fine thing for one of your opponents to be able to bring one + of your most laudable actions up against you.' 'You are right,' my father + said. 'Do as you think best, my dear wife.' + </p> + <p> + “A quarter of an hour, later, the Abbe Poivron came into the + drawing-room, and the situation was explained to him, analyzed and + discussed in all its bearings. If the Marquis de Fumerol, one of the + greatest names in France, were to die without the ministrations of + religion, it would assuredly be a terrible blow to the nobility in + general, and to the Count de Tourneville in particular, and the + freethinkers would be triumphant. The liberal newspapers would sing songs + of victory for six months; my mother's name would be dragged through the + mire and brought into the prose of Socialistic journals, and my father's + name would be smirched. It was impossible that such a thing should be. + </p> + <p> + “A crusade was therefore immediately decided upon, which was to be + led by the Abbe Poivron, a little, fat, clean, priest with a faint perfume + about him, a true vicar of a large church in a noble and rich quarter. + </p> + <p> + “The landau was ordered and we all three set out, my mother, the + cure and I, to administer the last sacraments to my uncle. + </p> + <p> + “It had been decided first of all we should see Madame Melanie who + had written the letter, and who was most likely the porter's wife, or my + uncle's servant, and I dismounted, as an advance guard, in front of a + seven-story house and went into a dark passage, where I had great + difficulty in finding the porter's den. He looked at me distrustfully, and + I said: + </p> + <p> + “'Madame Melanie, if you please.' 'Don't know her!' 'But I have + received a letter from her.' 'That may be, but I don't know her. Are you + asking for a lodger?' 'No, a servant probably. She wrote me about a + place.' 'A servant?—a servant? Perhaps it is the marquis'. Go and + see, the fifth story on the left.' + </p> + <p> + “As soon as he found I was not asking for a doubtful character he + became more friendly and came as far as the corridor with me. He was a + tall, thin man with white whiskers, the manners of a beadle and majestic + gestures. + </p> + <p> + “I climbed up a long spiral staircase, the railing of which I did + not venture to touch, and I gave three discreet knocks at the left-hand + door on the fifth story. It opened immediately, and an enormous dirty + woman appeared before me. She barred the entrance with her extended arms + which she placed against the two doorposts, and growled: + </p> + <p> + “'What do you want?' 'Are you Madame Melanie?' 'Yes.' 'I am the + Visconte de Tourneville.' 'Ah! All right! Come in.' 'Well, the fact is, my + mother is downstairs with a priest.' 'Oh! All right; go and bring them up; + but be careful of the porter.' + </p> + <p> + “I went downstairs and came up again with my mother, who was + followed by the abbe, and I fancied that I heard other footsteps behind + us. As soon as we were in the kitchen, Melanie offered us chairs, and we + all four sat down to deliberate. + </p> + <p> + “'Is he very ill?' my mother asked. 'Oh! yes, madame; he will not be + here long.' 'Does he seem disposed to receive a visit from a priest?' 'Oh! + I do not think so.' 'Can I see him?' 'Well—yes madame—only + —only—those young ladies are with him.' 'What young ladies?' + 'Why—why—his lady friends, of course.' 'Oh!' Mamma had grown + scarlet, and the Abbe Poivron had lowered his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “The affair began to amuse me, and I said: 'Suppose I go in first? I + shall see how he receives me, and perhaps I shall be able to prepare him + to receive you.' + </p> + <p> + “My mother, who did not suspect any trick, replied: 'Yes, go, my + dear.' But a woman's voice cried out: 'Melanie!' + </p> + <p> + “The servant ran out and said: 'What do you want, Mademoiselle + Claire?' 'The omelette; quickly.' 'In a minute, mademoiselle.' And coming + back to us, she explained this summons. + </p> + <p> + “They had ordered a cheese omelette at two o'clock as a slight + collation. And she at once began to break the eggs into a salad bowl, and + to whip them vigorously, while I went out on the landing and pulled the + bell, so as to formally announce my arrival. Melanie opened the door to + me, and made me sit down in an ante-room, while she went to tell my uncle + that I had come; then she came back and asked me to go in, while the abbe + hid behind the door, so that he might appear at the first signal. + </p> + <p> + “I was certainly very much surprised at the sight of my uncle, for + he was very handsome, very solemn and very elegant, the old rake. + </p> + <p> + “Sitting, almost lying, in a large armchair, his legs wrapped in + blankets, his hands, his long, white hands, over the arms of the chair, he + was waiting for death with the dignity of a patriarch. His white beard + fell on his chest, and his hair, which was also white, mingled with it on + his cheeks. + </p> + <p> + “Standing behind his armchair, as if to defend him against me, were + two young women, who looked at me with bold eyes. In their petticoats and + morning wrappers, with bare arms, with coal black hair twisted in a knot + on the nape of their neck, with embroidered, Oriental slippers, which + showed their ankles and silk stockings, they looked like the figures in + some symbolical painting, by the side of the dying man. Between the + easy-chair and the bed, there was a table covered with a white cloth, on + which two plates, two glasses, two forks and two knives, were waiting for + the cheese omelette which had been ordered some time before of Melanie. + </p> + <p> + “My uncle said in a weak, almost breathless, but clear voice: + </p> + <p> + “'Good-morning, my child; it is rather late in the day to come and + see me; our acquaintanceship will not last long.' I stammered out, 'It was + not my fault, uncle:' 'No; I know that,' he replied. 'It is your father + and mother's fault more than yours. How are they?' 'Pretty well, thank + you. When they heard that you were ill, they sent me to ask after you.' + 'Ah! Why did they not come themselves?' + </p> + <p> + “I looked up at the two girls and said gently: 'It is not their + fault if they could not come, uncle. But it would be difficult for my + father, and impossible for my mother to come in here.' The old man did not + reply, but raised his hand toward mine, and I took the pale, cold hand and + held it in my own. + </p> + <p> + “The door opened, Melanie came in with the omelette and put it on + the table, and the two girls immediately sat down at the table, and began + to eat without taking their eyes off me. Then I said: 'Uncle, it would + give great pleasure to my mother to embrace you.' 'I also,' he murmured, + 'should like——' He said no more, and I could think of nothing + to propose to him, and there was silence except for the noise of the + plates and that vague sound of eating. + </p> + <p> + “Now, the abbe, who was listening behind the door, seeing our + embarrassment, and thinking we had won the game, thought the time had come + to interpose, and showed himself. My uncle was so stupefied at sight of + him that at first he remained motionless; and then he opened his mouth as + if he meant to swallow up the priest, and shouted to him in a strong, + deep, furious voice: 'What are you doing here?' + </p> + <p> + “The abbe, who was used to difficult situations, came forward into + the room, murmuring: 'I have come in your sister's name, Monsieur le + Marquis; she has sent me. She would be happy, monsieur—' + </p> + <p> + “But the marquis was not listening. Raising one hand, he pointed to + the door with a proud, tragic gesture, and said angrily and breathing + hard: 'Leave this room—go out—robber of souls. Go out from + here, you violator of consciences. Go out from here, you pick-lock of + dying men's doors!' + </p> + <p> + “The abbe retreated, and I also went to the door, beating a retreat + with the priest; the two young women, who had the best of it, got up, + leaving their omelette only half eaten, and went and stood on either side + of my uncle's easy-chair, putting their hands on his arms to calm him, and + to protect him against the criminal enterprises of the Family, and of + Religion. + </p> + <p> + “The abbe and I rejoined my mother in the kitchen, and Melanie again + offered us chairs. 'I knew quite well that this method would not work; we + must try some other means, otherwise he will escape us.' And they began + deliberating afresh, my mother being of one opinion and the abbe of + another, while I held a third. + </p> + <p> + “We had been discussing the matter in a low voice for half an hour, + perhaps, when a great noise of furniture being moved and of cries uttered + by my uncle, more vehement and terrible even than the former had been, + made us all four jump up. + </p> + <p> + “Through the doors and walls we could hear him shouting: 'Go out—out + —rascals—humbugs, get out, scoundrels—get out—get + out!' + </p> + <p> + “Melanie rushed in, but came back immediately to call me to help + her, and I hastened in. Opposite to my uncle, who was terribly excited by + anger, almost standing up and vociferating, stood two men, one behind the + other, who seemed to be waiting till he should be dead with rage. + </p> + <p> + “By his ridiculous long coat, his long English shoes, his manners of + a tutor out of a position, his high collar, white necktie and straight + hair, his humble face of a false priest of a bastard religion, I + immediately recognized the first as a Protestant minister. + </p> + <p> + “The second was the porter of the house, who belonged to the + reformed religion and had followed us, and having seen our defeat, had + gone to fetch his own pastor, in hopes that he might meet a better + reception. My uncle seemed mad with rage! If the sight of the Catholic + priest, of the priest of his ancestors, had irritated the Marquis de + Fumerol, who had become a freethinker, the sight of his porter's minister + made him altogether beside himself. I therefore took the two men by the + arm and threw them out of the room so roughly that they bumped against + each other twice, between the two doors which led to the staircase; and + then I disappeared in my turn and returned to the kitchen, which was our + headquarters in order to take counsel with my mother and the abbe. + </p> + <p> + “But Melanie came back in terror, sobbing out: + </p> + <p> + “'He is dying—he is dying—come immediately—he is + dying.' + </p> + <p> + “My mother rushed out. My uncle had fallen to the ground, and lay + full length along the floor, without moving. I fancy he was already dead. + My mother was superb at that moment! She went straight up to the two girls + who were kneeling by the body and trying to raise it up, and pointing to + the door with irresistible authority, dignity and majesty, she said: 'Now + it is time for you to leave the room.' + </p> + <p> + “And they went out without a word of protest. I must add, that I was + getting ready to turn them out as unceremoniously as I had done the parson + and the porter. + </p> + <p> + “Then the Abbe Poivron administered the last sacraments to my uncle + with all the customary prayers, and remitted all his sins, while my mother + sobbed as she knelt near her brother. Suddenly, however, she exclaimed: + 'He recognized me; he pressed my hand; I am sure he recognized me!!!—and + that he thanked me! Oh, God, what happiness!' + </p> + <p> + “Poor mamma! If she had known or guessed for whom those thanks were + intended! + </p> + <p> + “They laid my uncle on his bed; he was certainly dead this time. + </p> + <p> + “'Madame,' Melanie said, 'we have no sheets to bury him in; all the + linen belongs to these two young ladies,' and when I looked at the + omelette which they had not finished, I felt inclined to laugh and to cry + at the same time. There are some humorous moments and some humorous + situations in life, occasionally! + </p> + <p> + “We gave my uncle a magnificent funeral, with five speeches at the + grave. Baron de Croiselles, the senator, showed in admirable terms that + God always returns victorious into well-born souls which have temporarily + been led into error. All the members of the Royalist and Catholic party + followed the funeral procession with the enthusiasm of victors, as they + spoke of that beautiful death after a somewhat troublous life.” + </p> + <p> + Viscount Roger ceased speaking; his audience was laughing. Then somebody + said: “Bah! That is the story of all conversions in extremis.” + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0058"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + THE TRIP OF LE HORLA + </h2> + <p> + On the morning of July 8th I received the following telegram: “Fine + day. Always my predictions. Belgian frontier. Baggage and servants left at + noon at the social session. Beginning of manoeuvres at three. So I will + wait for you at the works from five o'clock on. Jovis.” + </p> + <p> + At five o'clock sharp I entered the gas works of La Villette. It might + have been mistaken for the colossal ruins of an old town inhabited by + Cyclops. There were immense dark avenues separating heavy gasometers + standing one behind another, like monstrous columns, unequally high and, + undoubtedly, in the past the supports of some tremendous, some fearful + iron edifice. + </p> + <p> + The balloon was lying in the courtyard and had the appearance of a cake + made of yellow cloth, flattened on the ground under a rope. That is called + placing a balloon in a sweep-net, and, in fact, it appeared like an + enormous fish. + </p> + <p> + Two or three hundred people were looking at it, sitting or standing, and + some were examining the basket, a nice little square basket for a human + cargo, bearing on its side in gold letters on a mahogany plate the words: + Le Horla. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly the people began to stand back, for the gas was beginning to + enter into the balloon through a long tube of yellow cloth, which lay on + the soil, swelling and undulating like an enormous worm. But another + thought, another picture occurs to every mind. It is thus that nature + itself nourishes beings until their birth. The creature that will rise + soon begins to move, and the attendants of Captain Jovis, as Le Horla grew + larger, spread and put in place the net which covers it, so that the + pressure will be regular and equally distributed at every point. + </p> + <p> + The operation is very delicate and very important, for the resistance of + the cotton cloth of which the balloon is made is figured not in proportion + to the contact surface of this cloth with the net, but in proportion to + the links of the basket. + </p> + <p> + Le Horla, moreover, has been designed by M. Mallet, constructed under his + own eyes and made by himself. Everything had been made in the shops of M. + Jovis by his own working staff and nothing was made outside. + </p> + <p> + We must add that everything was new in this balloon, from the varnish to + the valve, those two essential parts of a balloon. Both must render the + cloth gas-proof, as the sides of a ship are waterproof. The old varnishes, + made with a base of linseed oil, sometimes fermented and thus burned the + cloth, which in a short time would tear like a piece of paper. + </p> + <p> + The valves were apt to close imperfectly after being opened and when the + covering called “cataplasme” was injured. The fall of M. + L'Hoste in the open sea during the night proved the imperfection of the + old system. + </p> + <p> + The two discoveries of Captain Jovis, the varnish principally, are of + inestimable value in the art of ballooning. + </p> + <p> + The crowd has begun to talk, and some men, who appear to be specialists, + affirm with authority that we shall come down before reaching the + fortifications. Several other things have been criticized in this novel + type of balloon with which we are about to experiment with so much + pleasure and success. + </p> + <p> + It is growing slowly but surely. Some small holes and scratches made in + transit have been discovered, and we cover them and plug them with a + little piece of paper applied on the cloth while wet. This method of + repairing alarms and mystifies the public. + </p> + <p> + While Captain Jovis and his assistants are busy with the last details, the + travellers go to dine in the canteen of the gas-works, according to the + established custom. + </p> + <p> + When we come out again the balloon is swaying, enormous and transparent, a + prodigious golden fruit, a fantastic pear which is still ripening, covered + by the last rays of the setting sun. Now the basket is attached, the + barometers are brought, the siren, which we will blow to our hearts' + content, is also brought, also the two trumpets, the eatables, the + overcoats and raincoats, all the small articles that can go with the men + in that flying basket. + </p> + <p> + As the wind pushes the balloon against the gasometers, it is necessary to + steady it now and then, to avoid an accident at the start. + </p> + <p> + Captain Jovis is now ready and calls all the passengers. + </p> + <p> + Lieutenant Mallet jumps aboard, climbing first on the aerial net between + the basket and the balloon, from which he will watch during the night the + movements of Le Horla across the skies, as the officer on watch, standing + on starboard, watches the course of a ship. + </p> + <p> + M. Etierine Beer gets in after him, then comes M. Paul Bessand, then M. + Patrice Eyries and I get in last. + </p> + <p> + But the basket is too heavy for the balloon, considering the long trip to + be taken, and M. Eyries has to get out, not without great regret. + </p> + <p> + M. Joliet, standing erect on the edge of the basket, begs the ladies, in + very gallant terms, to stand aside a little, for he is afraid he might + throw sand on their hats in rising. Then he commands: + </p> + <p> + “Let it loose,” and, cutting with one stroke of his knife the + ropes that hold the balloon to the ground, he gives Le Horla its liberty. + </p> + <p> + In one second we fly skyward. Nothing can be heard; we float, we rise, we + fly, we glide. Our friends shout with glee and applaud, but we hardly hear + them, we hardly see them. We are already so far, so high! What? Are we + really leaving these people down there? Is it possible? Paris spreads out + beneath us, a dark bluish patch, cut by its streets, from which rise, here + and there, domes, towers, steeples, then around it the plain, the country, + traversed by long roads, thin and white, amidst green fields of a tender + or dark green, and woods almost black. + </p> + <p> + The Seine appears like a coiled snake, asleep, of which we see neither + head nor tail; it crosses Paris, and the entire field resembles an immense + basin of prairies and forests dotted here and there by mountains, hardly + visible in the horizon. + </p> + <p> + The sun, which we could no longer see down below, now reappears as though + it were about to rise again, and our balloon seems to be lighted; it must + appear like a star to the people who are looking up. M. Mallet every few + seconds throws a cigarette paper intospace and says quietly: “We + are rising, always rising,” while Captain Jovis, radiant with joy, + rubs his hands together and repeats: “Eh? this varnish? Isn't it + good?” + </p> + <p> + In fact, we can see whether we are rising or sinking only by throwing a + cigarette paper out of the basket now and then. If this paper appears to + fall down like a stone, it means that the balloon is rising; if it appears + to shoot skyward the balloon is descending. + </p> + <p> + The two barometers mark about five hundred meters, and we gaze with + enthusiastic admiration at the earth we are leaving and to which we are + not attached in any way; it looks like a colored map, an immense plan of + the country. All its noises, however, rise to our ears very distinctly, + easily recognizable. We hear the sound of the wheels rolling in the + streets, the snap of a whip, the cries of drivers, the rolling and + whistling of trains and the laughter of small boys running after one + another. Every time we pass over a village the noise of children's voices + is heard above the rest and with the greatest distinctness. Some men are + calling us; the locomotives whistle; we answer with the siren, which emits + plaintive, fearfully shrill wails like the voice of a weird being + wandering through the world. + </p> + <p> + We perceive lights here and there, some isolated fire in the farms, and + lines of gas in the towns. We are going toward the northwest, after + roaming for some time over the little lake of Enghien. Now we see a river; + it is the Oise, and we begin to argue about the exact spot we are passing. + Is that town Creil or Pontoise—the one with so many lights? But if + we were over Pontoise we could see the junction of the Seine and the Oise; + and that enormous fire to the left, isn't it the blast furnaces of + Montataire? So then we are above Creil. The view is superb; it is dark on + the earth, but we are still in the light, and it is now past ten o'clock. + Now we begin to hear slight country noises, the double cry of the quail in + particular, then the mewing of cats and the barking of dogs. Surely the + dogs have scented the balloon; they have seen it and have given the alarm. + We can hear them barking all over the plain and making the identical noise + they make when baying at the moon. The cows also seem to wake up in the + barns, for we can hear them lowing; all the beasts are scared and moved + before the aerial monster that is passing. + </p> + <p> + The delicious odors of the soil rise toward us, the smell of hay, of + flowers, of the moist, verdant earth, perfuming the air-a light air, in + fact, so light, so sweet, so delightful that I realize I never was so + fortunate as to breathe before. A profound sense of well-being, unknown to + me heretofore, pervades me, a well-being of body and spirit, composed of + supineness, of infinite rest, of forgetfulness, of indifference to + everything and of this novel sensation of traversing space without any of + the sensations that make motion unbearable, without noise, without shocks + and without fear. + </p> + <p> + At times we rise and then descend. Every few minutes Lieutenant Mallet, + suspended in his cobweb of netting, says to Captain Jovis: “We are + descending; throw down half a handful.” And the captain, who is + talking and laughing with us, with a bag of ballast between his legs, + takes a handful of sand out of the bag and throws it overboard. + </p> + <p> + Nothing is more amusing, more delicate, more interesting than the + manoeuvring of a balloon. It is an enormous toy, free and docile, which + obeys with surprising sensitiveness, but it is also, and before all, the + slave of the wind, which we cannot control. A pinch of sand, half a sheet + of paper, one or two drops of water, the bones of a chicken which we had + just eaten, thrown overboard, makes it go up quickly. + </p> + <p> + A breath of cool, damp air rising from the river or the wood we are + traversing makes the balloon descend two hundred metres. It does not vary + when passing over fields of ripe grain, and it rises when it passes over + towns. + </p> + <p> + The earth sleeps now, or, rather, men sleep on the earth, for the beasts + awakened by the sight of our balloon announce our approach everywhere. Now + and then the rolling of a train or the whistling of a locomotive is + plainly distinguishable. We sound our siren as we pass over inhabited + places; and the peasants, terrified in their beds, must surely tremble and + ask themselves if the Angel Gabriel is not passing by. + </p> + <p> + A strong and continuous odor of gas can be plainly observed. We must have + encountered a current of warm air, and the balloon expands, losing its + invisible blood by the escape-valve, which is called the appendix, and + which closes of itself as soon as the expansion ceases. + </p> + <p> + We are rising. The earth no longer gives back the echo of our trumpets; we + have risen almost two thousand feet. It is not light enough for us to + consult the instruments; we only know that the rice paper falls from us + like dead butterflies, that we are rising, always rising. We can no longer + see the earth; a light mist separates us from it; and above our head + twinkles a world of stars. + </p> + <p> + A silvery light appears before us and makes the sky turn pale, and + suddenly, as if it were rising from unknown depths behind the horizon + below us rises the moon on the edge of a cloud. It seems to be coming from + below, while we are looking down upon it from a great height, leaning on + the edge of our basket like an audience on a balcony. Clear and round, it + emerges from the clouds and slowly rises in the sky. + </p> + <p> + The earth no longer seems to exist, it is buried in milky vapors that + resemble a sea. We are now alone in space with the moon, which looks like + another balloon travelling opposite us; and our balloon, which shines in + the air, appears like another, larger moon, a world wandering in the sky + amid the stars, through infinity. We no longer speak, think nor live; we + float along through space in delicious inertia. The air which is bearing + us up has made of us all beings which resemble itself, silent, joyous, + irresponsible beings, intoxicated by this stupendous flight, peculiarly + alert, although motionless. One is no longer conscious of one's flesh or + one's bones; one's heart seems to have ceased beating; we have become + something indescribable, birds who do not even have to flap their wings. + </p> + <p> + All memory has disappeared from our minds, all trouble from our thoughts; + we have no more regrets, plans nor hopes. We look, we feel, we wildly + enjoy this fantastic journey; nothing in the sky but the moon and + ourselves! We are a wandering, travelling world, like our sisters, the + planets; and this little world carries five men who have left the earth + and who have almost forgotten it. We can now see as plainly as in + daylight; we look at each other, surprised at this brightness, for we have + nothing to look at but ourselves and a few silvery clouds floating below + us. The barometers mark twelve hundred metres, then thirteen, fourteen, + fifteen hundred; and the little rice papers still fall about us. + </p> + <p> + Captain Jovis claims that the moon has often made balloons act thus, and + that the upward journey will continue. + </p> + <p> + We are now at two thousand metres; we go up to two thousand three hundred + and fifty; then the balloon stops: We blow the siren and are surprised + that no one answers us from the stars. + </p> + <p> + We are now going down rapidly. M. Mallet keeps crying: “Throw out + more ballast! throw out more ballast!” And the sand and stones that + we throw over come back into our faces, as if they were going up, thrown + from below toward the stars, so rapid is our descent. + </p> + <p> + Here is the earth! Where are we? It is now past midnight, and we are + crossing a broad, dry, well-cultivated country, with many roads and well + populated. + </p> + <p> + To the right is a large city and farther away to the left is another. But + suddenly from the earth appears a bright fairy light; it disappears, + reappears and once more disappears. Jovis, intoxicated by space, exclaims: + “Look, look at this phenomenon of the moon in the water. One can see + nothing more beautiful at night!” + </p> + <p> + Nothing indeed can give one an idea of the wonderful brightness of these + spots of light which are not fire, which do not look like reflections, + which appear quickly here or there and immediately go out again. These + shining lights appear on the winding rivers at every turn, but one hardly + has time to see them as the balloon passes as quickly as the wind. + </p> + <p> + We are now quite near the earth, and Beer exclaims:—“Look at + that! What is that running over there in the fields? Isn't it a dog?” + Indeed, something is running along the ground with great speed, and this + something seems to jump over ditches, roads, trees with such ease that we + could not understand what it might be. The captain laughed: “It is + the shadow of our balloon. It will grow as we descend.” + </p> + <p> + I distinctly hear a great noise of foundries in the distance. And, + according to the polar star, which we have been observing all night, 'and + which I have so often watched and consulted from the bridge of my little + yacht on the Mediterranean, we are heading straight for Belgium. + </p> + <p> + Our siren and our two horns are continually calling. A few cries from some + truck driver or belated reveler answer us. We bellow: “Where are we?” + But the balloon is going so rapidly that the bewildered man has not even + time to answer us. The growing shadow of Le Horla, as large as a child's + ball, is fleeing before us over the fields, roads and woods. It goes along + steadily, preceding us by about a quarter of a mile; and now I am leaning + out of the basket, listening to the roaring of the wind in the trees and + across the harvest fields. I say to Captain Jovis: “How the wind + blows!” + </p> + <p> + He answers: “No, those are probably waterfalls.” I insist, + sure of my ear that knows the sound of the wind, from hearing it so often + whistle through the rigging. Then Jovis nudges me; he fears to frighten + his happy, quiet passengers, for he knows full well that a storm is + pursuing us. + </p> + <p> + At last a man manages to understand us; he answers: “Nord!” We + get the same reply from another. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly the lights of a town, which seems to be of considerable size, + appear before us. Perhaps it is Lille. As we approach it, such a wonderful + flow of fire appears below us that I think myself transported into some + fairyland where precious stones are manufactured for giants. + </p> + <p> + It seems that it is a brick factory. Here are others, two, three. The + fusing material bubbles, sparkles, throws out blue, red, yellow, green + sparks, reflections from giant diamonds, rubies, emeralds, turquoises, + sapphires, topazes. And near by are great foundries roaring like + apocalyptic lions; high chimneys belch forth their clouds of smoke and + flame, and we can hear the noise of metal striking against metal. + </p> + <p> + “Where are we?” + </p> + <p> + The voice of some joker or of a crazy person answers: “In a balloon!” + </p> + <p> + “Where are we?” + </p> + <p> + “At Lille!” + </p> + <p> + We were not mistaken. We are already out of sight of the town, and we see + Roubaix to the right, then some well-cultivated, rectangular fields, of + different colors according to the crops, some yellow, some gray or brown. + But the clouds are gathering behind us, hiding the moon, whereas toward + the east the sky is growing lighter, becoming a clear blue tinged with + red. It is dawn. It grows rapidly, now showing us all the little details + of the earth, the trains, the brooks, the cows, the goats. And all this + passes beneath us with surprising speed. One hardly has time to notice + that other fields, other meadows, other houses have already disappeared. + Cocks are crowing, but the voice of ducks drowns everything. One might + think the world to be peopled, covered with them, they make so much noise. + </p> + <p> + The early rising peasants are waving their arms and crying to us: “Let + yourselves drop!” But we go along steadily, neither rising nor + falling, leaning over the edge of the basket and watching the world + fleeing under our feet. + </p> + <p> + Jovis sights another city far off in the distance. It approaches; + everywhere are old church spires. They are delightful, seen thus from + above. Where are we? Is this Courtrai? Is it Ghent? + </p> + <p> + We are already very near it, and we see that it is surrounded by water and + crossed in every direction by canals. One might think it a Venice of the + north. Just as we are passing so near to a church tower that our long + guy-rope almost touches it, the chimes begin to ring three o'clock. The + sweet, clear sounds rise to us from this frail roof which we have almost + touched in our wandering course. It is a charming greeting, a friendly + welcome from Holland. We answer with our siren, whose raucous voice echoes + throughout the streets. + </p> + <p> + It was Bruges. But we have hardly lost sight of it when my neighbor, Paul + Bessand, asks me: “Don't you see something over there, to the right, + in front of us? It looks like a river.” + </p> + <p> + And, indeed, far ahead of us stretches a bright highway, in the light of + the dawning day. Yes, it looks like a river, an immense river full of + islands. + </p> + <p> + “Get ready for the descent,” cried the captain. He makes M. + Mallet leave his net and return to the basket; then we pack the barometers + and everything that could be injured by possible shocks. M. Bessand + exclaims: “Look at the masts over there to the left! We are at the + sea!” + </p> + <p> + Fogs had hidden it from us until then. The sea was everywhere, to the left + and opposite us, while to our right the Scheldt, which had joined the + Moselle, extended as far as the sea, its mouths vaster than a lake. + </p> + <p> + It was necessary to descend within a minute or two. The rope to the + escape-valve, which had been religiously enclosed in a little white bag + and placed in sight of all so that no one would touch it, is unrolled, and + M. Mallet holds it in his hand while Captain Jovis looks for a favorable + landing. + </p> + <p> + Behind us the thunder was rumbling and not a single bird followed our mad + flight. + </p> + <p> + “Pull!” cried Jovis. + </p> + <p> + We were passing over a canal. The basket trembled and tipped over + slightly. The guy-rope touched the tall trees on both banks. But our speed + is so great that the long rope now trailing does not seem to slow down, + and we pass with frightful rapidity over a large farm, from which the + bewildered chickens, pigeons and ducks fly away, while the cows, cats and + dogs run, terrified, toward the house. + </p> + <p> + Just one-half bag of ballast is left. Jovis throws it overboard, and Le + Horla flies lightly across the roof. + </p> + <p> + The captain once more cries: “The escape-valve!” + </p> + <p> + M. Mallet reaches for the rope and hangs to it, and we drop like an arrow. + With a slash of a knife the cord which retains the anchor is cut, and we + drag this grapple behind us, through a field of beets. Here are the trees. + </p> + <p> + “Take care! Hold fast! Look out for your heads!” + </p> + <p> + We pass over them. Then a strong shock shakes us. The anchor has taken + hold. + </p> + <p> + “Look out! Take a good hold! Raise yourselves by your wrists. We are + going to touch ground.” + </p> + <p> + The basket does indeed strike the earth. Then it flies up again. Once more + it falls and bounds upward again, and at last it settles on the ground, + while the balloon struggles madly, like a wounded beast. + </p> + <p> + Peasants run toward us, but they do not dare approach. They were a long + time before they decided to come and deliver us, for one cannot set foot + on the ground until the bag is almost completely deflated. + </p> + <p> + Then, almost at the same time as the bewildered men, some of whom showed + their astonishment by jumping, with the wild gestures of savages, all the + cows that were grazing along the coast came toward us, surrounding our + balloon with a strange and comical circle of horns, big eyes and blowing + nostrils. + </p> + <p> + With the help of the accommodating and hospitable Belgian peasants, we + were able in a short time to pack up all our material and carry it to the + station at Heyst, where at twenty minutes past eight we took the train for + Paris. + </p> + <p> + The descent occurred at three-fifteen in the morning, preceding by only a + few seconds the torrent of rain and the blinding lightning of the storm + which had been chasing us before it. + </p> + <p> + Thanks to Captain Jovis, of whom I had heard much from my colleague, Paul + Ginisty—for both of them had fallen together and voluntarily into + the sea opposite Mentone—thanks to this brave man, we were able to + see, in a single night, from far up in the sky, the setting of the sun, + the rising of the moon and the dawn of day and to go from Paris to the + mouth of the Scheldt through the skies. + </p> +<div class='pre'> + [This story appeared in “Figaro” on July 16, 1887, under the title: + “From Paris to Heyst.”] +</div> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0059"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + FAREWELL! + </h2> + <p> + The two friends were getting near the end of their dinner. Through the + cafe windows they could see the Boulevard, crowded with people. They could + feel the gentle breezes which are wafted over Paris on warm summer + evenings and make you feel like going out somewhere, you care not where, + under the trees, and make you dream of moonlit rivers, of fireflies and of + larks. + </p> + <p> + One of the two, Henri Simon, heaved a deep sigh and said: + </p> + <p> + “Ah! I am growing old. It's sad. Formerly, on evenings like this, I + felt full of life. Now, I only feel regrets. Life is short!” + </p> + <p> + He was perhaps forty-five years old, very bald and already growing stout. + </p> + <p> + The other, Pierre Carnier, a trifle older, but thin and lively, answered: + </p> + <p> + “Well, my boy, I have grown old without noticing it in the least. I + have always been merry, healthy, vigorous and all the rest. As one sees + oneself in the mirror every day, one does not realize the work of age, for + it is slow, regular, and it modifies the countenance so gently that the + changes are unnoticeable. It is for this reason alone that we do not die + of sorrow after two or three years of excitement. For we cannot understand + the alterations which time produces. In order to appreciate them one would + have to remain six months without seeing one's own face —then, oh, + what a shock! + </p> + <p> + “And the women, my friend, how I pity the poor beings! All their + joy, all their power, all their life, lies in their beauty, which lasts + ten years. + </p> + <p> + “As I said, I aged without noticing it; I thought myself practically + a youth, when I was almost fifty years old. Not feeling the slightest + infirmity, I went about, happy and peaceful. + </p> + <p> + “The revelation of my decline came to me in a simple and terrible + manner, which overwhelmed me for almost six months—then I became + resigned. + </p> + <p> + “Like all men, I have often been in love, but most especially once. + </p> + <p> + “I met her at the seashore, at Etretat, about twelve years ago, + shortly after the war. There is nothing prettier than this beach during + the morning bathing hour. It is small, shaped like a horseshoe, framed by + high white cliffs, which are pierced by strange holes called the 'Portes,' + one stretching out into the ocean like the leg of a giant, the other short + and dumpy. The women gather on the narrow strip of sand in this frame of + high rocks, which they make into a gorgeous garden of beautiful gowns. The + sun beats down on the shores, on the multicolored parasols, on the + blue-green sea; and all is gay, delightful, smiling. You sit down at the + edge of the water and you watch the bathers. The women come down, wrapped + in long bath robes, which they throw off daintily when they reach the + foamy edge of the rippling waves; and they run into the water with a rapid + little step, stopping from time to time for a delightful little thrill + from the cold water, a short gasp. + </p> + <p> + “Very few stand the test of the bath. It is there that they can be + judged, from the ankle to the throat. Especially on leaving the water are + the defects revealed, although water is a powerful aid to flabby skin. + </p> + <p> + “The first time that I saw this young woman in the water, I was + delighted, entranced. She stood the test well. There are faces whose + charms appeal to you at first glance and delight you instantly. You seem + to have found the woman whom you were born to love. I had that feeling and + that shock. + </p> + <p> + “I was introduced, and was soon smitten worse than I had ever been + before. My heart longed for her. It is a terrible yet delightful thing + thus to be dominated by a young woman. It is almost torture, and yet + infinite delight. Her look, her smile, her hair fluttering in the wind, + the little lines of her face, the slightest movement of her features, + delighted me, upset me, entranced me. She had captured me, body and soul, + by her gestures, her manners, even by her clothes, which seemed to take on + a peculiar charm as soon as she wore them. I grew tender at the sight of + her veil on some piece of furniture, her gloves thrown on a chair. Her + gowns seemed to me inimitable. Nobody had hats like hers. + </p> + <p> + “She was married, but her husband came only on Saturday, and left on + Monday. I didn't cencern myself about him, anyhow. I wasn't jealous of + him, I don't know why; never did a creature seem to me to be of less + importance in life, to attract my attention less than this man. + </p> + <p> + “But she! how I loved her! How beautiful, graceful and young she + was! She was youth, elegance, freshness itself! Never before had I felt so + strongly what a pretty, distinguished, delicate, charming, graceful being + woman is. Never before had I appreciated the seductive beauty to be found + in the curve of a cheek, the movement of a lip, the pinkness of an ear, + the shape of that foolish organ called the nose. + </p> + <p> + “This lasted three months; then I left for America, overwhelmed with + sadness. But her memory remained in me, persistent, triumphant. From far + away I was as much hers as I had been when she was near me. Years passed + by, and I did not forget her. The charming image of her person was ever + before my eyes and in my heart. And my love remained true to her, a quiet + tenderness now, something like the beloved memory of the most beautiful + and the most enchanting thing I had ever met in my life. + </p> + <p> + “Twelve years are not much in a lifetime! One does not feel them + slip by. The years follow each other gently and quickly, slowly yet + rapidly, each one is long and yet so soon over! They add up so rapidly, + they leave so few traces behind them, they disappear so completely, that, + when one turns round to look back over bygone years, one sees nothing and + yet one does not understand how one happens to be so old. It seemed to me, + really, that hardly a few months separated me from that charming season on + the sands of Etretat. + </p> + <p> + “Last spring I went to dine with some friends at Maisons-Laffitte. + </p> + <p> + “Just as the train was leaving, a big, fat lady, escorted by four + little girls, got into my car. I hardly looked at this mother hen, very + big, very round, with a face as full as the moon framed in an enormous, + beribboned hat. + </p> + <p> + “She was puffing, out of breath from having been forced to walk + quickly. The children began to chatter. I unfolded my paper and began to + read. + </p> + <p> + “We had just passed Asnieres, when my neighbor suddenly turned to me + and said: + </p> + <p> + “'Excuse me, sir, but are you not Monsieur Garnier?' + </p> + <p> + “'Yes, madame.' + </p> + <p> + “Then she began to laugh, the pleased laugh of a good woman; and yet + it was sad. + </p> + <p> + “'You do not seem to recognize me.' + </p> + <p> + “I hesitated. It seemed to me that I had seen that face somewhere; + but where? when? I answered: + </p> + <p> + “'Yes—and no. I certainly know you, and yet I cannot recall + your name.' + </p> + <p> + “She blushed a little: + </p> + <p> + “'Madame Julie Lefevre.' + </p> + <p> + “Never had I received such a shock. In a second it seemed to me as + though it were all over with me! I felt that a veil had been torn from my + eyes and that I was going to make a horrible and heartrending discovery. + </p> + <p> + “So that was she! That big, fat, common woman, she! She had become + the mother of these four girls since I had last her. And these little + beings surprised me as much as their mother. They were part of her; they + were big girls, and already had a place in life. Whereas she no longer + counted, she, that marvel of dainty and charming gracefulness. It seemed + to me that I had seen her but yesterday, and this is how I found her + again! Was it possible? A poignant grief seized my heart; and also a + revolt against nature herself, an unreasoning indignation against this + brutal, infarious act of destruction. + </p> + <p> + “I looked at her, bewildered. Then I took her hand in mine, and + tears came to my eyes. I wept for her lost youth. For I did not know this + fat lady. + </p> + <p> + “She was also excited, and stammered: + </p> + <p> + “'I am greatly changed, am I not? What can you expect—everything + has its time! You see, I have become a mother, nothing but a good mother. + Farewell to the rest, that is over. Oh! I never expected you to recognize + me if we met. You, too, have changed. It took me quite a while to be sure + that I was not mistaken. Your hair is all white. Just think! Twelve years + ago! Twelve years! My oldest girl is already ten.' + </p> + <p> + “I looked at the child. And I recognized in her something of her + mother's old charm, but something as yet unformed, something which + promised for the future. And life seemed to me as swift as a passing + train. + </p> + <p> + “We had reached. Maisons-Laffitte. I kissed my old friend's hand. I + had found nothing but the most commonplace remarks. I was too much upset + to talk. + </p> + <p> + “At night, alone, at home, I stood in front of the mirror for a long + time, a very long time. And I finally remembered what I had been, finally + saw in my mind's eye my brown mustache, my black hair and the youthful + expression of my face. Now I was old. Farewell!” + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0060"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + THE WOLF + </h2> + <p> + This is what the old Marquis d'Arville told us after St. Hubert's dinner + at the house of the Baron des Ravels. + </p> + <p> + We had killed a stag that day. The marquis was the only one of the guests + who had not taken part in this chase. He never hunted. + </p> + <p> + During that long repast we had talked about hardly anything but the + slaughter of animals. The ladies themselves were interested in bloody and + exaggerated tales, and the orators imitated the attacks and the combats of + men against beasts, raised their arms, romanced in a thundering voice. + </p> + <p> + M. d Arville talked well, in a certain flowery, high-sounding, but + effective style. He must have told this story frequently, for he told it + fluently, never hesitating for words, choosing them with skill to make his + description vivid. + </p> + <p> + Gentlemen, I have never hunted, neither did my father, nor my grandfather, + nor my great-grandfather. This last was the son of a man who hunted more + than all of you put together. He died in 1764. I will tell you the story + of his death. + </p> + <p> + His name was Jean. He was married, father of that child who became my + great-grandfather, and he lived with his younger brother, Francois + d'Arville, in our castle in Lorraine, in the midst of the forest. + </p> + <p> + Francois d'Arville had remained a bachelor for love of the chase. + </p> + <p> + They both hunted from one end of the year to the other, without stopping + and seemingly without fatigue. They loved only hunting, understood nothing + else, talked only of that, lived only for that. + </p> + <p> + They had at heart that one passion, which was terrible and inexorable. It + consumed them, had completely absorbed them, leaving room for no other + thought. + </p> + <p> + They had given orders that they should not be interrupted in the chase for + any reason whatever. My great-grandfather was born while his father was + following a fox, and Jean d'Arville did not stop the chase, but exclaimed: + “The deuce! The rascal might have waited till after the view —halloo!” + </p> + <p> + His brother Francois was still more infatuated. On rising he went to see + the dogs, then the horses, then he shot little birds about the castle + until the time came to hunt some large game. + </p> + <p> + In the countryside they were called M. le Marquis and M. le Cadet, the + nobles then not being at all like the chance nobility of our time, which + wishes to establish an hereditary hierarchy in titles; for the son of a + marquis is no more a count, nor the son of a viscount a baron, than a son + of a general is a colonel by birth. But the contemptible vanity of today + finds profit in that arrangement. + </p> + <p> + My ancestors were unusually tall, bony, hairy, violent and vigorous. The + younger, still taller than the older, had a voice so strong that, + according to a legend of which he was proud, all the leaves of the forest + shook when he shouted. + </p> + <p> + When they were both mounted to set out hunting, it must have been a superb + sight to see those two giants straddling their huge horses. + </p> + <p> + Now, toward the midwinter of that year, 1764, the frosts were excessive, + and the wolves became ferocious. + </p> + <p> + They even attacked belated peasants, roamed at night outside the houses, + howled from sunset to sunrise, and robbed the stables. + </p> + <p> + And soon a rumor began to circulate. People talked of a colossal wolf with + gray fur, almost white, who had eaten two children, gnawed off a woman's + arm, strangled all the watch dogs in the district, and even come without + fear into the farmyards. The people in the houses affirmed that they had + felt his breath, and that it made the flame of the lights flicker. And + soon a panic ran through all the province. No one dared go out any more + after nightfall. The darkness seemed haunted by the image of the beast. + </p> + <p> + The brothers d'Arville determined to find and kill him, and several times + they brought together all the gentlemen of the country to a great hunt. + </p> + <p> + They beat the forests and searched the coverts in vain; they never met + him. They killed wolves, but not that one. And every night after a battue + the beast, as if to avenge himself, attacked some traveller or killed some + one's cattle, always far from the place where they had looked for him. + </p> + <p> + Finally, one night he stole into the pigpen of the Chateau d'Arville and + ate the two fattest pigs. + </p> + <p> + The brothers were roused to anger, considering this attack as a direct + insult and a defiance. They took their strong bloodhounds, used to pursue + dangerous animals, and they set off to hunt, their hearts filled with + rage. + </p> + <p> + From dawn until the hour when the empurpled sun descended behind the great + naked trees, they beat the woods without finding anything. + </p> + <p> + At last, furious and disgusted, both were returning, walking their horses + along a lane bordered with hedges, and they marvelled that their skill as + huntsmen should be baffled by this wolf, and they were suddenly seized + with a mysterious fear. + </p> + <p> + The elder said: + </p> + <p> + “That beast is not an ordinary one. You would say it had a mind like + a man.” + </p> + <p> + The younger answered: + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps we should have a bullet blessed by our cousin, the bishop, + or pray some priest to pronounce the words which are needed.” + </p> + <p> + Then they were silent. + </p> + <p> + Jean continued: + </p> + <p> + “Look how red the sun is. The great wolf will do some harm to-night.” + </p> + <p> + He had hardly finished speaking when his horse reared; that of Franqois + began to kick. A large thicket covered with dead leaves opened before + them, and a mammoth beast, entirely gray, jumped up and ran off through + the wood. + </p> + <p> + Both uttered a kind of grunt of joy, and bending over the necks of their + heavy horses, they threw them forward with an impulse from all their body, + hurling them on at such a pace, urging them, hurrying them away, exciting + them so with voice and with gesture and with spur that the experienced + riders seemed to be carrying the heavy beasts between their thighs and + to bear them off as if they were flying. + </p> + <p> + Thus they went, plunging through the thickets, dashing across the beds of + streams, climbing the hillsides, descending the gorges, and blowing the + horn as loud as they could to attract their people and the dogs. + </p> + <p> + And now, suddenly, in that mad race, my ancestor struck his forehead + against an enormous branch which split his skull; and he fell dead on the + ground, while his frightened horse took himself off, disappearing in the + gloom which enveloped the woods. + </p> + <p> + The younger d'Arville stopped quick, leaped to the earth, seized his + brother in his arms, and saw that the brains were escaping from the wound + with the blood. + </p> + <p> + Then he sat down beside the body, rested the head, disfigured and red, on + his knees, and waited, regarding the immobile face of his elder brother. + Little by little a fear possessed him, a strange fear which he had never + felt before, the fear of the dark, the fear of loneliness, the fear of the + deserted wood, and the fear also of the weird wolf who had just killed his + brother to avenge himself upon them both. + </p> + <p> + The gloom thickened; the acute cold made the trees crack. Francois got up, + shivering, unable to remain there longer, feeling himself growing faint. + Nothing was to be heard, neither the voice of the dogs nor the sound of + the horns-all was silent along the invisible horizon; and this mournful + silence of the frozen night had something about it terrific and strange. + </p> + <p> + He seized in his immense hands the great body of Jean, straightened it, + and laid it across the saddle to carry it back to the chateau; then he + went on his way softly, his mind troubled as if he were in a stupor, + pursued by horrible and fear-giving images. + </p> + <p> + And all at once, in the growing darkness a great shape crossed his path. + It was the beast. A shock of terror shook the hunter; something cold, like + a drop of water, seemed to glide down his back, and, like a monk haunted + of the devil, he made a great sign of the cross, dismayed at this abrupt + return of the horrible prowler. But his eyes fell again on the inert body + before him, and passing abruptly from fear to anger, he shook with an + indescribable rage. + </p> + <p> + Then he spurred his horse and rushed after the wolf. + </p> + <p> + He followed it through the copses, the ravines, and the tall trees, + traversing woods which he no longer recognized, his eyes fixed on the + white speck which fled before him through the night. + </p> + <p> + His horse also seemed animated by a force and strength hitherto unknown. + It galloped straight ahead with outstretched neck, striking against trees, + and rocks, the head and the feet of the dead man thrown across the saddle. + The limbs tore out his hair; the brow, beating the huge trunks, spattered + them with blood; the spurs tore their ragged coats of bark. Suddenly the + beast and the horseman issued from the forest and rushed into a valley, + just as the moon appeared above the mountains. The valley here was stony, + inclosed by enormous rocks. + </p> + <p> + Francois then uttered a yell of joy which the echoes repeated like a peal + of thunder, and he leaped from his horse, his cutlass in his hand. + </p> + <p> + The beast, with bristling hair, the back arched, awaited him, its eyes + gleaming like two stars. But, before beginning battle, the strong hunter, + seizing his brother, seated him on a rock, and, placing stones under his + head, which was no more than a mass of blood, he shouted in the ears as if + he was talking to a deaf man: “Look, Jean; look at this!” + </p> + <p> + Then he attacked the monster. He felt himself strong enough to overturn a + mountain, to bruise stones in his hands. The beast tried to bite him, + aiming for his stomach; but he had seized the fierce animal by the neck, + without even using his weapon, and he strangled it gently, listening to + the cessation of breathing in its throat and the beatings of its heart. He + laughed, wild with joy, pressing closer and closer his formidable embrace, + crying in a delirium of joy, “Look, Jean, look!” All + resistance ceased; the body of the wolf became limp. He was dead. + </p> + <p> + Francois took him up in his arms and carried him to the feet of the elder + brother, where he laid him, repeating, in a tender voice: “There, + there, there, my little Jean, see him!” + </p> + <p> + Then he replaced on the saddle the two bodies, one upon the other, and + rode away. + </p> + <p> + He returned to the chateau, laughing and crying, like Gargantua at the + birth of Pantagruel, uttering shouts of triumph, and boisterous with joy + as he related the death of the beast, and grieving and tearing his beard + in telling of that of his brother. + </p> + <p> + And often, later, when he talked again of that day, he would say, with + tears in his eyes: “If only poor Jean could have seen me strangle + the beast, he would have died content, that I am sure!” + </p> + <p> + The widow of my ancestor inspired her orphan son with that horror of the + chase which has transmitted itself from father to son as far down as + myself. + </p> + <p> + The Marquis d'Arville was silent. Some one asked: + </p> + <p> + “That story is a legend, isn't it?” + </p> + <p> + And the story teller answered: + </p> + <p> + “I swear to you that it is true from beginning to end.” + </p> + <p> + Then a lady declared, in a little, soft voice + </p> + <p> + “All the same, it is fine to have passions like that.” + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0061"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + THE INN + </h2> + <p> + Resembling in appearance all the wooden hostelries of the High Alps + situated at the foot of glaciers in the barren rocky gorges that intersect + the summits of the mountains, the Inn of Schwarenbach serves as a resting + place for travellers crossing the Gemini Pass. + </p> + <p> + It remains open for six months in the year and is inhabited by the family + of Jean Hauser; then, as soon as the snow begins to fall and to fill the + valley so as to make the road down to Loeche impassable, the father and + his three sons go away and leave the house in charge of the old guide, + Gaspard Hari, with the young guide, Ulrich Kunsi, and Sam, the great + mountain dog. + </p> + <p> + The two men and the dog remain till the spring in their snowy prison, with + nothing before their eyes except the immense white slopes of the Balmhorn, + surrounded by light, glistening summits, and are shut in, blocked up and + buried by the snow which rises around them and which envelops, binds and + crushes the little house, which lies piled on the roof, covering the + windows and blocking up the door. + </p> + <p> + It was the day on which the Hauser family were going to return to Loeche, + as winter was approaching, and the descent was becoming dangerous. Three + mules started first, laden with baggage and led by the three sons. Then + the mother, Jeanne Hauser, and her daughter Louise mounted a fourth mule + and set off in their turn and the father followed them, accompanied by the + two men in charge, who were to escort the family as far as the brow of the + descent. First of all they passed round the small lake, which was now + frozen over, at the bottom of the mass of rocks which stretched in front + of the inn, and then they followed the valley, which was dominated on all + sides by the snow-covered summits. + </p> + <p> + A ray of sunlight fell into that little white, glistening, frozen desert + and illuminated it with a cold and dazzling flame. No living thing + appeared among this ocean of mountains. There was no motion in this + immeasurable solitude and no noise disturbed the profound silence. + </p> + <p> + By degrees the young guide, Ulrich Kunsi, a tall, long-legged Swiss, left + old man Hauser and old Gaspard behind, in order to catch up the mule which + bore the two women. The younger one looked at him as he approached and + appeared to be calling him with her sad eyes. She was a young, fairhaired + little peasant girl, whose milk-white cheeks and pale hair looked as if + they had lost their color by their long abode amid the ice. When he had + got up to the animal she was riding he put his hand on the crupper and + relaxed his speed. Mother Hauser began to talk to him, enumerating with + the minutest details all that he would have to attend to during the + winter. It was the first time that he was going to stay up there, while + old Hari had already spent fourteen winters amid the snow, at the inn of + Schwarenbach. + </p> + <p> + Ulrich Kunsi listened, without appearing to understand and looked + incessantly at the girl. From time to time he replied: “Yes, Madame + Hauser,” but his thoughts seemed far away and his calm features + remained unmoved. + </p> + <p> + They reached Lake Daube, whose broad, frozen surface extended to the end + of the valley. On the right one saw the black, pointed, rocky summits of + the Daubenhorn beside the enormous moraines of the Lommern glacier, above + which rose the Wildstrubel. As they approached the Gemmi pass, where the + descent of Loeche begins, they suddenly beheld the immense horizon of the + Alps of the Valais, from which the broad, deep valley of the Rhone + separated them. + </p> + <p> + In the distance there was a group of white, unequal, flat, or pointed + mountain summits, which glistened in the sun; the Mischabel with its two + peaks, the huge group of the Weisshorn, the heavy Brunegghorn, the lofty + and formidable pyramid of Mount Cervin, that slayer of men, and the + Dent-Blanche, that monstrous coquette. + </p> + <p> + Then beneath them, in a tremendous hole, at the bottom of a terrific + abyss, they perceived Loeche, where houses looked as grains of sand which + had been thrown into that enormous crevice that is ended and closed by the + Gemmi and which opens, down below, on the Rhone. + </p> + <p> + The mule stopped at the edge of the path, which winds and turns + continually, doubling backward, then, fantastically and strangely, along + the side of the mountain as far as the almost invisible little village at + its feet. The women jumped into the snow and the two old men joined them. + “Well,” father Hauser said, “good-by, and keep up your + spirits till next year, my friends,” and old Hari replied: “Till + next year.” + </p> + <p> + They embraced each other and then Madame Hauser in her turn offered her + cheek, and the girl did the same. + </p> + <p> + When Ulrich Kunsi's turn came, he whispered in Louise's ear, “Do not + forget those up yonder,” and she replied, “No,” in such + a low voice that he guessed what she had said without hearing it. “Well, + adieu,” Jean Hauser repeated, “and don't fall ill.” And + going before the two women, he commenced the descent, and soon all three + disappeared at the first turn in the road, while the two men returned to + the inn at Schwarenbach. + </p> + <p> + They walked slowly, side by side, without speaking. It was over, and they + would be alone together for four or five months. Then Gaspard Hari began + to relate his life last winter. He had remained with Michael Canol, who + was too old now to stand it, for an accident might happen during that long + solitude. They had not been dull, however; the only thing was to make up + one's mind to it from the first, and in the end one would find plenty of + distraction, games and other means of whiling away the time. + </p> + <p> + Ulrich Kunsi listened to him with his eyes on the ground, for in his + thoughts he was following those who were descending to the village. They + soon came in sight of the inn, which was, however, scarcely visible, so + small did it look, a black speck at the foot of that enormous billow of + snow, and when they opened the door Sam, the great curly dog, began to + romp round them. + </p> + <p> + “Come, my boy,” old Gaspard said, “we have no women now, + so we must get our own dinner ready. Go and peel the potatoes.” And + they both sat down on wooden stools and began to prepare the soup. + </p> + <p> + The next morning seemed very long to Kunsi. Old Hari smoked and spat on + the hearth, while the young man looked out of the window at the + snow-covered mountain opposite the house. + </p> + <p> + In the afternoon he went out, and going over yesterday's ground again, he + looked for the traces of the mule that had carried the two women. Then + when he had reached the Gemmi Pass, he laid himself down on his stomach + and looked at Loeche. + </p> + <p> + The village, in its rocky pit, was not yet buried under the snow, from + which it was sheltered by the pine woods which protected it on all sides. + Its low houses looked like paving stones in a large meadow from above. + Hauser's little daughter was there now in one of those gray-colored + houses. In which? Ulrich Kunsi was too far away to be able to make them + out separately. How he would have liked to go down while he was yet able! + </p> + <p> + But the sun had disappeared behind the lofty crest of the Wildstrubel and + the young man returned to the chalet. Daddy Hari was smoking, and when he + saw his mate come in he proposed a game of cards to him, and they sat down + opposite each other, on either side of the table. They played for a long + time a simple game called brisque and then they had supper and went to + bed. + </p> + <p> + The following days were like the first, bright and cold, without any fresh + snow. Old Gaspard spent his afternoons in watching the eagles and other + rare birds which ventured on those frozen heights, while Ulrich returned + regularly to the Gemmi Pass to look at the village. Then they played + cards, dice or dominoes and lost and won a trifle, just to create an + interest in the game. + </p> + <p> + One morning Hari, who was up first, called his companion. A moving, deep + and light cloud of white spray was falling on them noiselessly and was by + degrees burying them under a thick, heavy coverlet of foam. That lasted + four days and four nights. It was necessary to free the door and the + windows, to dig out a passage and to cut steps to get over this frozen + powder, which a twelve hours' frost had made as hard as the granite of the + moraines. + </p> + <p> + They lived like prisoners and did not venture outside their abode. They + had divided their duties, which they performed regularly. Ulrich Kunsi + undertook the scouring, washing and everything that belonged to + cleanliness. He also chopped up the wood while Gaspard Hari did the + cooking and attended to the fire. Their regular and monotonous work was + interrupted by long games at cards or dice, and they never quarrelled, but + were always calm and placid. They were never seen impatient or + ill-humored, nor did they ever use hard words, for they had laid in a + stock of patience for their wintering on the top of the mountain. + </p> + <p> + Sometimes old Gaspard took his rifle and went after chamois, and + occasionally he killed one. Then there was a feast in the inn at + Schwarenbach and they revelled in fresh meat. One morning he went out as + usual. The thermometer outside marked eighteen degrees of frost, and as + the sun had not yet risen, the hunter hoped to surprise the animals at the + approaches to the Wildstrubel, and Ulrich, being alone, remained in bed + until ten o'clock. He was of a sleepy nature, but he would not have dared + to give way like that to his inclination in the presence of the old guide, + who was ever an early riser. He breakfasted leisurely with Sam, who also + spent his days and nights in sleeping in front of the fire; then he felt + low-spirited and even frightened at the solitude, and was seized by a + longing for his daily game of cards, as one is by the craving of a + confirmed habit, and so he went out to meet his companion, who was to + return at four o'clock. + </p> + <p> + The snow had levelled the whole deep valley, filled up the crevasses, + obliterated all signs of the two lakes and covered the rocks, so that + between the high summits there was nothing but an immense, white, regular, + dazzling and frozen surface. For three weeks Ulrich had not been to the + edge of the precipice from which he had looked down on the village, and he + wanted to go there before climbing the slopes which led to Wildstrubel. + Loeche was now also covered by the snow and the houses could scarcely be + distinguished, covered as they were by that white cloak. + </p> + <p> + Then, turning to the right, he reached the Loemmern glacier. He went along + with a mountaineer's long strides, striking the snow, which was as hard as + a rock, with his iron-pointed stick, and with his piercing eyes he looked + for the little black, moving speck in the distance, on that enormous, + white expanse. + </p> + <p> + When he reached the end of the glacier he stopped and asked himself + whether the old man had taken that road, and then he began to walk along + the moraines with rapid and uneasy steps. The day was declining, the snow + was assuming a rosy tint, and a dry, frozen wind blew in rough gusts over + its crystal surface. Ulrich uttered a long, shrill, vibrating call. His + voice sped through the deathlike silence in which the mountains were + sleeping; it reached the distance, across profound and motionless waves of + glacial foam, like the cry of a bird across the waves of the sea. Then it + died away and nothing answered him. + </p> + <p> + He began to walk again. The sun had sunk yonder behind the mountain tops, + which were still purple with the reflection from the sky, but the depths + of the valley were becoming gray, and suddenly the young man felt + frightened. It seemed to him as if the silence, the cold, the solitude, + the winter death of these mountains were taking possession of him, were + going to stop and to freeze his blood, to make his limbs grow stiff and to + turn him into a motionless and frozen object, and he set off running, + fleeing toward his dwelling. The old man, he thought, would have returned + during his absence. He had taken another road; he would, no doubt, be + sitting before the fire, with a dead chamois at his feet. He soon came in + sight of the inn, but no smoke rose from it. Ulrich walked faster and + opened the door. Sam ran up to him to greet him, but Gaspard Hari had not + returned. Kunsi, in his alarm, turned round suddenly, as if he had + expected to find his comrade hidden in a corner. Then he relighted the + fire and made the soup, hoping every moment to see the old man come in. + From time to time he went out to see if he were not coming. It was quite + night now, that wan, livid night of the mountains, lighted by a thin, + yellow crescent moon, just disappearing behind the mountain tops. + </p> + <p> + Then the young man went in and sat down to warm his hands and feet, while + he pictured to himself every possible accident. Gaspard might have broken + a leg, have fallen into a crevasse, taken a false step and dislocated his + ankle. And, perhaps, he was lying on the snow, overcome and stiff with the + cold, in agony of mind, lost and, perhaps, shouting for help, calling with + all his might in the silence of the night.. But where? The mountain was so + vast, so rugged, so dangerous in places, especially at that time of the + year, that it would have required ten or twenty guides to walk for a week + in all directions to find a man in that immense space. Ulrich Kunsi, + however, made up his mind to set out with Sam if Gaspard did not return by + one in the morning, and he made his preparations. + </p> + <p> + He put provisions for two days into a bag, took his steel climbing iron, + tied a long, thin, strong rope round his waist, and looked to see that his + iron-shod stick and his axe, which served to cut steps in the ice, were in + order. Then he waited. The fire was burning on the hearth, the great dog + was snoring in front of it, and the clock was ticking, as regularly as a + heart beating, in its resounding wooden case. He waited, with his ears on + the alert for distant sounds, and he shivered when the wind blew against + the roof and the walls. It struck twelve and he trembled: Then, frightened + and shivering, he put some water on the fire, so that he might have some + hot coffee before starting, and when the clock struck one he got up, woke + Sam, opened the door and went off in the direction of the Wildstrubel. For + five hours he mounted, scaling the rocks by means of his climbing irons, + cutting into the ice, advancing continually, and occasionally hauling up + the dog, who remained below at the foot of some slope that was too steep + for him, by means of the rope. It was about six o'clock when he reached + one of the summits to which old Gaspard often came after chamois, and he + waited till it should be daylight. + </p> + <p> + The sky was growing pale overhead, and a strange light, springing nobody + could tell whence, suddenly illuminated the immense ocean of pale mountain + summits, which extended for a hundred leagues around him. One might have + said that this vague brightness arose from the snow itself and spread + abroad in space. By degrees the highest distant summits assumed a + delicate, pink flesh color, and the red sun appeared behind the ponderous + giants of the Bernese Alps. + </p> + <p> + Ulrich Kunsi set off again, walking like a hunter, bent over, looking for + tracks, and saying to his dog: “Seek, old fellow, seek!” + </p> + <p> + He was descending the mountain now, scanning the depths closely, and from + time to time shouting, uttering aloud, prolonged cry, which soon died away + in that silent vastness. Then he put his ear to the ground to listen. He + thought he could distinguish a voice, and he began to run and shouted + again, but he heard nothing more and sat down, exhausted and in despair. + Toward midday he breakfasted and gave Sam, who was as tired as himself, + something to eat also, and then he recommenced his search. + </p> + <p> + When evening came he was still walking, and he had walked more than thirty + miles over the mountains. As he was too far away to return home and too + tired to drag himself along any further, he dug a hole in the snow and + crouched in it with his dog under a blanket which he had brought with him. + And the man and the dog lay side by side, trying to keep warm, but frozen + to the marrow nevertheless. Ulrich scarcely slept, his mind haunted by + visions and his limbs shaking with cold. + </p> + <p> + Day was breaking when he got up. His legs were as stiff as iron bars and + his spirits so low that he was ready to cry with anguish, while his heart + was beating so that he almost fell over with agitation, when he thought he + heard a noise. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly he imagined that he also was going to die of cold in the midst of + this vast solitude, and the terror of such a death roused his energies and + gave him renewed vigor. He was descending toward the inn, falling down and + getting up again, and followed at a distance by Sam, who was limping on + three legs, and they did not reach Schwarenbach until four o'clock in the + afternoon. The house was empty and the young man made a fire, had + something to eat and went to sleep, so worn out that he did not think of + anything more. + </p> + <p> + He slept for a long time, for a very long time, an irresistible sleep. But + suddenly a voice, a cry, a name, “Ulrich!” aroused him from + his profound torpor and made him sit up in bed. Had he been dreaming? Was + it one of those strange appeals which cross the dreams of disquieted + minds? No, he heard it still, that reverberating cry-which had entered his + ears and remained in his flesh-to the tips of his sinewy fingers. + Certainly somebody had cried out and called “Ulrich!” There + was somebody there near the house, there could be no doubt of that, and he + opened the door and shouted, “Is it you, Gaspard?” with all + the strength of his lungs. But there was no reply, no murmur, no groan, + nothing. It was quite dark and the snow looked wan. + </p> + <p> + The wind had risen, that icy wind that cracks the rocks and leaves nothing + alive on those deserted heights, and it came in sudden gusts, which were + more parching and more deadly than the burning wind of the desert, and + again Ulrich shouted: “Gaspard! Gaspard! Gaspard.” And then he + waited again. Everything was silent on the mountain. + </p> + <p> + Then he shook with terror and with a bound he was inside the inn, when he + shut and bolted the door, and then he fell into a chair trembling all + over, for he felt certain that his comrade had called him at the moment he + was expiring. + </p> + <p> + He was sure of that, as sure as one is of being alive or of eating a piece + of bread. Old Gaspard Hari had been dying for two days and three nights + somewhere, in some hole, in one of those deep, untrodden ravines whose + whiteness is more sinister than subterranean darkness. He had been dying + for two days and three nights and he had just then died, thinking of his + comrade. His soul, almost before it was released, had taken its flight to + the inn where Ulrich was sleeping, and it had called him by that terrible + and mysterious power which the spirits of the dead have to haunt the + living. That voiceless soul had cried to the worn-out soul of the sleeper; + it had uttered its last farewell, or its reproach, or its curse on the man + who had not searched carefully enough. + </p> + <p> + And Ulrich felt that it was there, quite close to him, behind the wall, + behind the door which he had just fastened. It was wandering about, like a + night bird which lightly touches a lighted window with his wings, and the + terrified young man was ready to scream with horror. He wanted to run + away, but did not dare to go out; he did not dare, and he should never + dare to do it in the future, for that phantom would remain there day and + night, round the inn, as long as the old man's body was not recovered and + had not been deposited in the consecrated earth of a churchyard. + </p> + <p> + When it was daylight Kunsi recovered some of his courage at the return of + the bright sun. He prepared his meal, gave his dog some food and then + remained motionless on a chair, tortured at heart as he thought of the old + man lying on the snow, and then, as soon as night once more covered the + mountains, new terrors assailed him. He now walked up and down the dark + kitchen, which was scarcely lighted by the flame of one candle, and he + walked from one end of it to the other with great strides, listening, + listening whether the terrible cry of the other night would again break + the dreary silence outside. He felt himself alone, unhappy man, as no man + had ever been alone before! He was alone in this immense desert of Snow, + alone five thousand feet above the inhabited earth, above human + habitation, above that stirring, noisy, palpitating life, alone under an + icy sky! A mad longing impelled him to run away, no matter where, to get + down to Loeche by flinging himself over the precipice; but he did not even + dare to open the door, as he felt sure that the other, the dead man, would + bar his road, so that he might not be obliged to remain up there alone: + </p> + <p> + Toward midnight, tired with walking, worn out by grief and fear, he at + last fell into a doze in his chair, for he was afraid of his bed as one is + of a haunted spot. But suddenly the strident cry of the other evening + pierced his ears, and it was so shrill that Ulrich stretched out his arms + to repulse the ghost, and he fell backward with his chair. + </p> + <p> + Sam, who was awakened by the noise, began to howl as frightened dogs do + howl, and he walked all about the house trying to find out where the + danger came from. When he got to the door, he sniffed beneath it, smelling + vigorously, with his coat bristling and his tail stiff, while he growled + angrily. Kunsi, who was terrified, jumped up, and, holding his chair by + one leg, he cried: “Don't come in, don't come in, or I shall kill + you.” And the dog, excited by this threat, barked angrily at that + invisible enemy who defied his master's voice. By degrees, however, he + quieted down and came back and stretched himself in front of the fire, but + he was uneasy and kept his head up and growled between his teeth. + </p> + <p> + Ulrich, in turn, recovered his senses, but as he felt faint with terror, + he went and got a bottle of brandy out of the sideboard, and he drank off + several glasses, one after anther, at a gulp. His ideas became vague, his + courage revived and a feverish glow ran through his veins. + </p> + <p> + He ate scarcely anything the next day and limited himself to alcohol, and + so he lived for several days, like a drunken brute. As soon as he thought + of Gaspard Hari, he began to drink again, and went on drinking until he + fell to the ground, overcome by intoxication. And there he remained lying + on his face, dead drunk, his limbs benumbed, and snoring loudly. But + scarcely had he digested the maddening and burning liquor than the same + cry, “Ulrich!” woke him like a bullet piercing his brain, and + he got up, still staggering, stretching out his hands to save himself from + falling, and calling to Sam to help him. And the dog, who appeared to be + going mad like his master, rushed to the door, scratched it with his claws + and gnawed it with his long white teeth, while the young man, with his + head thrown back drank the brandy in draughts, as if it had been cold + water, so that it might by and by send his thoughts, his frantic terror, + and his memory to sleep again. + </p> + <p> + In three weeks he had consumed all his stock of ardent spirits. But his + continual drunkenness only lulled his terror, which awoke more furiously + than ever as soon as it was impossible for him to calm it. His fixed idea + then, which had been intensified by a month of drunkenness, and which was + continually increasing in his absolute solitude, penetrated him like a + gimlet. He now walked about the house like a wild beast in its cage, + putting his ear to the door to listen if the other were there and defying + him through the wall. Then, as soon as he dozed, overcome by fatigue, he + heard the voice which made him leap to his feet. + </p> + <p> + At last one night, as cowards do when driven to extremities, he sprang to + the door and opened it, to see who was calling him and to force him to + keep quiet, but such a gust of cold wind blew into his face that it + chilled him to the bone, and he closed and bolted the door again + immediately, without noticing that Sam had rushed out. Then, as he was + shivering with cold, he threw some wood on the fire and sat down in front + of it to warm himself, but suddenly he started, for somebody was + scratching at the wall and crying. In desperation he called out: “Go + away!” but was answered by another long, sorrowful wail. + </p> + <p> + Then all his remaining senses forsook him from sheer fright. He repeated: + “Go away!” and turned round to try to find some corner in + which to hide, while the other person went round the house still crying + and rubbing against the wall. Ulrich went to the oak sideboard, which was + full of plates and dishes and of provisions, and lifting it up with + superhuman strength, he dragged it to the door, so as to form a barricade. + Then piling up all the rest of the furniture, the mattresses, palliasses + and chairs, he stopped up the windows as one does when assailed by an + enemy. + </p> + <p> + But the person outside now uttered long, plaintive, mournful groans, to + which the young man replied by similar groans, and thus days and nights + passed without their ceasing to howl at each other. The one was + continually walking round the house and scraped the walls with his nails + so vigorously that it seemed as if he wished to destroy them, while the + other, inside, followed all his movements, stooping down and holding his + ear to the walls and replying to all his appeals with terrible cries. One + evening, however, Ulrich heard nothing more, and he sat down, so overcome + by fatigue, that he went to sleep immediately and awoke in the morning + without a thought, without any recollection of what had happened, just as + if his head had been emptied during his heavy sleep, but he felt hungry, + and he ate. + </p> + <p> + The winter was over and the Gemmi Pass was practicable again, so the + Hauser family started off to return to their inn. As soon as they had + reached the top of the ascent the women mounted their mule and spoke about + the two men whom they would meet again shortly. They were, indeed, rather + surprised that neither of them had come down a few days before, as soon as + the road was open, in order to tell them all about their long winter + sojourn. At last, however, they saw the inn, still covered with snow, like + a quilt. The door and the window were closed, but a little smoke was + coming out of the chimney, which reassured old Hauser. On going up to the + door, however, he saw the skeleton of an animal which had been torn to + pieces by the eagles, a large skeleton lying on its side. + </p> + <p> + They all looked close at it and the mother said: + </p> + <p> + “That must be Sam,” and then she shouted: “Hi, Gaspard!” + A cry from the interior of the house answered her and a sharp cry that one + might have thought some animal had uttered it. Old Hauser repeated, + “Hi, Gaspard!” and they heard another cry similar to the + first. + </p> + <p> + Then the three men, the father and the two sons, tried to open the door, + but it resisted their efforts. From the empty cow-stall they took a beam + to serve as a battering-ram and hurled it against the door with all their + might. The wood gave way and the boards flew into splinters. Then the + house was shaken by a loud voice, and inside, behind the side board which + was overturned, they saw a man standing upright, with his hair falling on + his shoulders and a beard descending to his breast, with shining eyes, and + nothing but rags to cover him. They did not recognize him, but Louise + Hauser exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “It is Ulrich, mother.” And her mother declared that it was + Ulrich, although his hair was white. + </p> + <p> + He allowed them to go up to him and to touch him, but he did not reply to + any of their questions, and they were obliged to take him to Loeche, where + the doctors found that he was mad, and nobody ever found out what had + become of his companion. + </p> + <p> + Little Louise Hauser nearly died that summer of decline, which the + physicians attributed to the cold air of the mountains. + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0062"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + ORIGINAL SHORT STORIES, Vol. 5. + </h2> +<div class='pre'> + GUY DE MAUPASSANT + ORIGINAL SHORT STORIES + Translated by + ALBERT M. C. McMASTER, B.A. + A. E. HENDERSON, B.A. + MME. QUESADA and Others +</div> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0063"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + VOLUME V. + </h2> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0064"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + MONSIEUR PARENT + </h2> + <p> + George's father was sitting in an iron chair, watching his little son with + concentrated affection and attention, as little George piled up the sand + into heaps during one of their walks. He would take up the sand with both + hands, make a mound of it, and put a chestnut leaf on top. His father saw + no one but him in that public park full of people. + </p> + <p> + The sun was just disappearing behind the roofs of the Rue Saint-Lazare, + but still shed its rays obliquely on that little, overdressed crowd. The + chestnut trees were lighted up by its yellow rays, and the three fountains + before the lofty porch of the church had the appearance of liquid silver. + </p> + <p> + Monsieur Parent, accidentally looking up at the church clock, saw that he + was five minutes late. He got up, took the child by the arm, shook his + dress, which was covered with sand, wiped his hands, and led him in the + direction of the Rue Blanche. He walked quickly, so as not to get in after + his wife, and the child could not keep up with him. He took him up and + carried him, though it made him pant when he had to walk up the steep + street. He was a man of forty, already turning gray, and rather stout. At + last he reached his house. An old servant who had brought him up, one of + those trusted servants who are the tyrants of families, opened the door to + him. + </p> + <p> + “Has madame come in yet?” he asked anxiously. + </p> + <p> + The servant shrugged her shoulders: + </p> + <p> + “When have you ever known madame to come home at half-past six, + monsieur?” + </p> + <p> + “Very well; all the better; it will give me time to change my + things, for I am very warm.” + </p> + <p> + The servant looked at him with angry and contemptuous pity. “Oh, I + can see that well enough,” she grumbled. “You are covered with + perspiration, monsieur. I suppose you walked quickly and carried the + child, and only to have to wait until half-past seven, perhaps, for + madame. I have made up my mind not to have dinner ready on time. I shall + get it for eight o'clock, and if, you have to wait, I cannot help it; + roast meat ought not to be burnt!” + </p> + <p> + Monsieur Parent pretended not to hear, but went into his own room, and as + soon as he got in, locked the door, so as to be alone, quite alone. He was + so used now to being abused and badly treated that he never thought + himself safe except when he was locked in. + </p> + <p> + What could he do? To get rid of Julie seemed to him such a formidable + thing to do that he hardly ventured to think of it, but it was just as + impossible to uphold her against his wife, and before another month the + situation would become unbearable between the two. He remained sitting + there, with his arms hanging down, vaguely trying to discover some means + to set matters straight, but without success. He said to himself: “It + is lucky that I have George; without him I should-be very miserable.” + </p> + <p> + Just then the clock struck seven, and he started up. Seven o'clock, and he + had not even changed his clothes. Nervous and breathless, he undressed, + put on a clean shirt, hastily finished his toilet, as if he had been + expected in the next room for some event of extreme importance, and went + into the drawing-room, happy at having nothing to fear. He glanced at the + newspaper, went and looked out of the window, and then sat down again, + when the door opened, and the boy came in, washed, brushed, and smiling. + Parent took him up in his arms and kissed him passionately; then he tossed + him into the air, and held him up to the ceiling, but soon sat down again, + as he was tired with all his exertion. Then, taking George on his knee, he + made him ride a-cock-horse. The child laughed and clapped his hands and + shouted with pleasure, as did his father, who laughed until his big + stomach shook, for it amused him almost more than it did the child. + </p> + <p> + Parent loved him with all the heart of a weak, resigned, ill-used man. He + loved him with mad bursts of affection, with caresses and with all the + bashful tenderness which was hidden in him, and which had never found an + outlet, even at the early period of his married life, for his wife had + always shown herself cold and reserved. + </p> + <p> + Just then Julie came to the door, with a pale face and glistening eyes, + and said in a voice which trembled with exasperation: “It is + half-past seven, monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + Parent gave an uneasy and resigned look at the clock and replied: “Yes, + it certainly is half-past seven.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, my dinner is quite ready now.” + </p> + <p> + Seeing the storm which was coming, he tried to turn it aside. “But + did you not tell me when I came in that it would not be ready before + eight?” + </p> + <p> + “Eight! what are you thinking about? You surely do not mean to let + the child dine at eight o'clock? It would ruin his stomach. Just suppose + that he only had his mother to look after him! She cares a great deal + about her child. Oh, yes, we will speak about her; she is a mother! What a + pity it is that there should be any mothers like her!” + </p> + <p> + Parent thought it was time to cut short a threatened scene. “Julie,” + he said, “I will not allow you to speak like that of your mistress. + You understand me, do you not? Do not forget it in the future.” + </p> + <p> + The old servant, who was nearly choked with surprise, turned and went out, + slamming the door so violently after her that the lustres on the + chandelier rattled, and for some seconds it sounded as if a number of + little invisible bells were ringing in the drawing-room. + </p> + <p> + Eight o'clock struck, the door opened, and Julie came in again. She had + lost her look of exasperation, but now she put on an air of cold and + determined resolution, which was still more formidable. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur,” she said, “I served your mother until the + day of her death, and I have attended to you from your birth until now, + and I think it may be said that I am devoted to the family.” She + waited for a reply, and Parent stammered: + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes, certainly, my good Julie.” + </p> + <p> + “You know quite well,” she continued, “that I have never + done anything for the sake of money, but always for your sake; that I have + never deceived you nor lied to you, that you have never had to find fault + with me—” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly, my good Julie.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well, then, monsieur; it cannot go on any longer like this. I + have said nothing, and left you in your ignorance, out of respect and + liking for you, but it is too much, and every one in the neighborhood is + laughing at you. Everybody knows about it, and so I must tell you also, + although I do not like to repeat it. The reason why madame comes in at any + time she chooses is that she is doing abominable things.” + </p> + <p> + He seemed stupefied and not to understand, and could only stammer out: + </p> + <p> + “Hold your tongue; you know I have forbidden you——” + </p> + <p> + But she interrupted him with irresistible resolution. “No, monsieur, + I must tell you everything now. For a long time madame has been carrying + on with Monsieur Limousin. I have seen them kiss scores of times behind + the door. Ah! you may be sure that if Monsieur Limousin had been rich, + madame would never have married Monsieur Parent. If you remember how the + marriage was brought about, you would understand the matter from beginning + to end.” + </p> + <p> + Parent had risen, and stammered out, his face livid: “Hold your + tongue —hold your tongue, or——” + </p> + <p> + She went on, however: “No, I mean to tell you everything. She + married you from interest, and she deceived you from the very first day. + It was all settled between them beforehand. You need only reflect for a + few moments to understand it, and then, as she was not satisfied with + having married you, as she did not love you, she has made your life + miserable, so miserable that it has almost broken my heart when I have + seen it.” + </p> + <p> + He walked up and down the room with hands clenched, repeating: “Hold + your tongue—hold your tongue——” For he could find + nothing else to say. The old servant, however, would not yield; she seemed + resolved on everything. + </p> + <p> + George, who had been at first astonished and then frightened at those + angry voices, began to utter shrill screams, and remained behind his + father, with his face puckered up and his mouth open, roaring. + </p> + <p> + His son's screams exasperated Parent, and filled him with rage and + courage. He rushed at Julie with both arms raised, ready to strike her, + exclaiming: “Ah! you wretch. You will drive the child out of his + senses.” He already had his hand on her, when she screamed in his + face: + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur, you may beat me if you like, me who reared you, but that + will not prevent your wife from deceiving you, or alter the fact that your + child is not yours——” + </p> + <p> + He stopped suddenly, let his arms fall, and remained standing opposite to + her, so overwhelmed that he could understand nothing more. + </p> + <p> + “You need only to look at the child,” she added, “to + know who is its father! He is the very image of Monsieur Limousin. You + need only look at his eyes and forehead. Why, a blind man could not be + mistaken in him.” + </p> + <p> + He had taken her by the shoulders, and was now shaking her with all his + might. “Viper, viper!” he said. “Go out the room, viper! + Go out, or I shall kill you! Go out! Go out!” + </p> + <p> + And with a desperate effort he threw her into the next room. She fell + across the table, which was laid for dinner, breaking the glasses. Then, + rising to her feet, she put the table between her master and herself. + While he was pursuing her, in order to take hold of her again, she flung + terrible words at him. + </p> + <p> + “You need only go out this evening after dinner, and come in again + immediately, and you will see! You will see whether I have been lying! + Just try it, and you will see.” She had reached the kitchen door and + escaped, but he ran after her, up the back stairs to her bedroom, into + which she had locked herself, and knocking at the door, he said: + </p> + <p> + “You will leave my house this very instant!” + </p> + <p> + “You may be certain of that, monsieur,” was her reply. “In + an hour's time I shall not be here any longer.” + </p> + <p> + He then went slowly downstairs again, holding on to the banister so as not + to fall, and went back to the drawing-room, where little George was + sitting on the floor, crying. He fell into a chair, and looked at the + child with dull eyes. He understood nothing, knew nothing more; he felt + dazed, stupefied, mad, as if he had just fallen on his head, and he + scarcely even remembered the dreadful things the servant had told him. + Then, by degrees, his mind, like muddy water, became calmer and clearer, + and the abominable revelations began to work in his heart. + </p> + <p> + He was no longer thinking of George. The child was quiet now and sitting + on the carpet; but, seeing that no notice was being taken of him, he began + to cry. His father ran to him, took him in his arms, and covered him with + kisses. His child remained to him, at any rate! What did the rest matter? + He held him in his arms and pressed his lips to his light hair, and, + relieved and composed, he whispered: + </p> + <p> + “George—my little George—my dear little George——” + But he suddenly remembered what Julie had said! Yes, she had said that he + was Limousin's child. Oh! it could not be possible, surely. He could not + believe it, could not doubt, even for a moment, that he was his own child. + It was one of those low scandals which spring from servants' brains! And + he repeated: “George—my dear little George.” The + youngster was quiet again, now that his father was fondling him. + </p> + <p> + Parent felt the warmth of the little chest penetrate through his clothes, + and it filled him with love, courage, and happiness; that gentle warmth + soothed him, fortified him and saved him. Then he put the small, curly + head away from him a little, and looked at it affectionately, still + repeating: “George! Oh, my little George!” But suddenly he + thought: + </p> + <p> + “Suppose he were to resemble Limousin, after all!” He looked + at him with haggard, troubled eyes, and tried to discover whether there + was any likeness in his forehead, in his nose, mouth, or cheeks. His + thoughts wandered as they do when a person is going mad, and his child's + face changed in his eyes, and assumed a strange look and improbable + resemblances. + </p> + <p> + The hall bell rang. Parent gave a bound as if a bullet had gone through + him. “There she is,” he said. “What shall I do?” + And he ran and locked himself up in his room, to have time to bathe his + eyes. But in a few moments another ring at the bell made him jump again, + and then he remembered that Julie had left, without the housemaid knowing + it, and so nobody would go to open the door. What was he to do? He went + himself, and suddenly he felt brave, resolute, ready for dissimulation and + the struggle. The terrible blow had matured him in a few moments. He + wished to know the truth, he desired it with the rage of a timid man, and + with the tenacity of an easy-going man who has been exasperated. + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless, he trembled. Does one know how much excited cowardice there + often is in boldness? He went to the door with furtive steps, and stopped + to listen; his heart beat furiously. Suddenly, however, the noise of the + bell over his head startled him like an explosion. He seized the lock, + turned the key, and opening the door, saw his wife and Limousin standing + before him on the stairs. + </p> + <p> + With an air of astonishment, which also betrayed a little irritation, she + said: + </p> + <p> + “So you open the door now? Where is Julie?” + </p> + <p> + His throat felt tight and his breathing was labored as he tried to. reply, + without being able to utter a word. + </p> + <p> + “Are you dumb?” she continued. “I asked you where Julie + is?” + </p> + <p> + “She—she—has—gone——” he managed + to stammer. + </p> + <p> + His wife began to get angry. “What do you mean by gone? Where has + she gone? Why?” + </p> + <p> + By degrees he regained his coolness. He felt an intense hatred rise up in + him for that insolent woman who was standing before him. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, she has gone altogether. I sent her away.” + </p> + <p> + “You have sent away Julie? Why, you must be mad.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I sent her away because she was insolent, and because—because + she was ill-using the child.” + </p> + <p> + “Julie?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—Julie.” + </p> + <p> + “What was she insolent about?” + </p> + <p> + “About you.” + </p> + <p> + “About me?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, because the dinner was burnt, and you did not come in.” + </p> + <p> + “And she said——” + </p> + <p> + “She said—offensive things about you—which I ought not—which + I could not listen to——” + </p> + <p> + “What did she, say?” + </p> + <p> + “It is no good repeating them.” + </p> + <p> + “I want to hear them.” + </p> + <p> + “She said it was unfortunate for a man like me to be married to a + woman like you, unpunctual, careless, disorderly, a bad mother, and a bad + wife.” + </p> + <p> + The young woman had gone into the anteroom, followed by Limousin, who did + not say a word at this unexpected condition of things. She shut the door + quickly, threw her cloak on a chair, and going straight up to her husband, + she stammered out: + </p> + <p> + “You say? You say? That I am——” + </p> + <p> + Very pale and calm, he replied: “I say nothing, my dear. I am simply + repeating what Julie said to me, as you wanted to know what it was, and I + wish you to remark that I turned her off just on account of what she said.” + </p> + <p> + She trembled with a violent longing to tear out his beard and scratch his + face. In his voice and manner she felt that he was asserting his position + as master. Although she had nothing to say by way of reply, she tried to + assume the offensive by saying something unpleasant. “I suppose you + have had dinner?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “No, I waited for you.” + </p> + <p> + She shrugged her shoulders impatiently. “It is very stupid of you to + wait after half-past seven,” she said. “You might have guessed + that I was detained, that I had a good many things to do, visits and + shopping,” + </p> + <p> + And then, suddenly, she felt that she wanted to explain how she had spent + her time, and told him in abrupt, haughty words that, having to buy some + furniture in a shop a long distance off, very far off, in the Rue de + Rennes, she had met Limousin at past seven o'clock on the Boulevard + Saint-Germain, and that then she had gone with him to have something to + eat in a restaurant, as she did not like to go to one by herself, although + she was faint with hunger. That was how she had dined with Limousin, if it + could be called dining, for they had only some soup and half a chicken, as + they were in a great hurry to get back. + </p> + <p> + Parent replied simply: “Well, you were quite right. I am not finding + fault with you.” + </p> + <p> + Then Limousin, who, had not spoken till then, and who had been half hidden + behind Henriette, came forward and put out his hand, saying: “Are + you very well?” + </p> + <p> + Parent took his hand, and shaking it gently, replied: “Yes, I am + very well.” + </p> + <p> + But the young woman had felt a reproach in her husband's last words. + “Finding fault! Why do you speak of finding fault? One might think + that you meant to imply something.” + </p> + <p> + “Not at all,” he replied, by way of excuse. “I simply + meant that I was not at all anxious although you were late, and that I did + not find fault with you for it.” + </p> + <p> + She, however, took the high hand, and tried to find a pretext for a + quarrel. “Although I was late? One might really think that it was + one o'clock in the morning, and that I spent my nights away from home.” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly not, my dear. I said late because I could find no other + word. You said you should be back at half-past six, and you returned at + half-past eight. That was surely being late. I understand it perfectly + well. I am not at all surprised, even. But—but—I can hardly + use any other word.” + </p> + <p> + “But you pronounce them as if I had been out all night.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no-oh, no!” + </p> + <p> + She saw that he would yield on every point, and she was going into her own + room, when at last she noticed that George was screaming, and then she + asked, with some feeling: “What is the matter with the child?” + </p> + <p> + “I told you that Julie had been rather unkind to him.” + </p> + <p> + “What has the wretch been doing to him?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh nothing much. She gave him a push, and he fell down.” + </p> + <p> + She wanted to see her child, and ran into the dining room, but stopped + short at the sight of the table covered with spilt wine, with broken + decanters and glasses and overturned saltcellars. “Who did all that + mischief?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “It was Julie, who——” But she interrupted him + furiously: + </p> + <p> + “That is too much, really! Julie speaks of me as if I were a + shameless woman, beats my child, breaks my plates and dishes, turns my + house upside down, and it appears that you think it all quite natural.” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly not, as I have got rid of her.” + </p> + <p> + “Really! You have got rid of her! But you ought to have given her in + charge. In such cases, one ought to call in the Commissary of Police!” + </p> + <p> + “But—my dear—I really could not. There was no reason. It + would have been very difficult——” + </p> + <p> + She shrugged her shoulders disdainfully. “There! you will never be + anything but a poor, wretched fellow, a man without a will, without any + firmness or energy. Ah! she must have said some nice things to you, your + Julie, to make you turn her off like that. I should like to have been here + for a minute, only for a minute.” Then she opened the drawing-room + door and ran to George, took him into her arms and kissed him, and said: + “Georgie, what is it, my darling, my pretty one, my treasure?” + </p> + <p> + Then, suddenly turning to another idea, she said: “But the child has + had no dinner? You have had nothing to eat, my pet?” + </p> + <p> + “No, mamma.” + </p> + <p> + Then she again turned furiously upon her husband. “Why, you must be + mad, utterly mad! It is half-past eight, and George has had no dinner!” + </p> + <p> + He excused himself as best he could, for he had nearly lost his wits + through the overwhelming scene and the explanation, and felt crushed by + this ruin of his life. “But, my dear, we were waiting for you, as I + did not wish to dine without you. As you come home late every day, I + expected you every moment.” + </p> + <p> + She threw her bonnet, which she had kept on till then, into an easy-chair, + and in an angry voice she said: “It is really intolerable to have to + do with people who can understand nothing, who can divine nothing and do + nothing by themselves. So, I suppose, if I were to come in at twelve + o'clock at night, the child would have had nothing to eat? Just as if you + could not have understood that, as it was after half-past seven, I was + prevented from coming home, that I had met with some hindrance!” + </p> + <p> + Parent trembled, for he felt that his anger was getting the upper hand, + but Limousin interposed, and turning toward the young woman, said: + </p> + <p> + “My dear friend, you, are altogether unjust. Parent could not guess + that you would come here so late, as you never do so, and then, how could + you expect him to get over the difficulty all by himself, after having + sent away Julie?” + </p> + <p> + But Henriette was very angry, and replied: + </p> + <p> + “Well, at any rate, he must get over the difficulty himself, for I + will not help him,” she replied. “Let him settle it!” + And she went into her own room, quite forgetting that her child had not + had anything to eat. + </p> + <p> + Limousin immediately set to work to help his friend. He picked up the + broken glasses which strewed the table and took them out, replaced the + plates and knives and forks, and put the child into his high chair, while + Parent went to look for the chambermaid to wait at table. The girl came + in, in great astonishment, as she had heard nothing in George's room, + where she had been working. She soon, however, brought in the soup, a + burnt leg of mutton, and mashed potatoes. + </p> + <p> + Parent sat by the side of the child, very much upset and distressed at all + that had happened. He gave the boy his dinner, and endeavored to eat + something himself, but he could only swallow with an effort, as his throat + felt paralyzed. By degrees he was seized with an insane desire to look at + Limousin, who was sitting opposite to him, making bread pellets, to see + whether George was like him, but he did not venture to raise his eyes for + some time. At last, however, he made up his mind to do so, and gave a + quick, sharp look at the face which he knew so well, although he almost + fancied that he had never examined it carefully. It looked so different to + what he had imagined. From time to time he looked at Limousin, trying to + recognize a likeness in the smallest lines of his face, in the slightest + features, and then he looked at his son, under the pretext of feeding him. + </p> + <p> + Two words were sounding in his ears: “His father! his father! his + father!” They buzzed in his temples at every beat of his heart. Yes, + that man, that tranquil man who was sitting on the other side of the + table, was, perhaps, the father of his son, of George, of his little + George. Parent left off eating; he could not swallow any more. A terrible + pain, one of those attacks of pain which make men scream, roll on the + ground, and bite the furniture, was tearing at his entrails, and he felt + inclined to take a knife and plunge it into his stomach. He started when + he heard the door open. His wife came in. “I am hungry,” she + said; “are not you, Limousin?” + </p> + <p> + He hesitated a little, and then said: “Yes, I am, upon my word.” + She had the leg of mutton brought in again. Parent asked himself “Have + they had dinner? Or are they late because they have had a lovers' meeting?” + </p> + <p> + They both ate with a very good appetite. Henriette was very calm, but + laughed and joked. Her husband watched her furtively. She had on a pink + teagown trimmed with white lace, and her fair head, her white neck and her + plump hands stood out from that coquettish and perfumed dress as though it + were a sea shell edged with foam. + </p> + <p> + What fun they must be making of him, if he had been their dupe since the + first day! Was it possible to make a fool of a man, of a worthy man, + because his father had left him a little money? Why could one not see into + people's souls? How was it that nothing revealed to upright hearts the + deceits of infamous hearts? How was it that voices had the same sound for + adoring as for lying? Why was a false, deceptive look the same as a + sincere one? And he watched them, waiting to catch a gesture, a word, an + intonation. Then suddenly he thought: “I will surprise them this + evening,” and he said: + </p> + <p> + “My dear, as I have dismissed Julie, I will see about getting + another girl this very day. I will go at once to procure one by to-morrow + morning, so I may not be in until late.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well,” she replied; “go. I shall not stir from + here. Limousin will keep me company. We will wait for you.” Then, + turning to the maid, she said: “You had better put George to bed, + and then you can clear away and go up to your room.” + </p> + <p> + Parent had got up; he was unsteady on his legs, dazed and bewildered, and + saying, “I shall see you again later on,” he went out, holding + on to the wall, for the floor seemed to roll like a ship. George had been + carried out by his nurse, while Henriette and Limousin went into the + drawing-room. + </p> + <p> + As soon as the door was shut, he said: “You must be mad, surely, to + torment your husband as you do?” + </p> + <p> + She immediately turned on him: “Ah! Do you know that I think the + habit you have got into lately, of looking upon Parent as a martyr, is + very unpleasant?” + </p> + <p> + Limousin threw himself into an easy-chair and crossed his legs. “I + am not setting him up as a martyr in the least, but I think that, situated + as we are, it is ridiculous to defy this man as you do, from morning till + night.” + </p> + <p> + She took a cigarette from the mantelpiece, lighted it, and replied: + “But I do not defy him; quite the contrary. Only he irritates me by + his stupidity, and I treat him as he deserves.” + </p> + <p> + Limousin continued impatiently: “What you are doing is very foolish! + I am only asking you to treat your husband gently, because we both of us + require him to trust us. I think that you ought to see that.” + </p> + <p> + They were close together: he, tall, dark, with long whiskers and the + rather vulgar manners of a good-looking man who is very well satisfied + with himself; she, small, fair, and pink, a little Parisian, born in the + back room of a shop, half cocotte and half bourgeoise, brought up to + entice customers to the store by her glances, and married, in consequence, + to a simple, unsophisticated man, who saw her outside the door every + morning when he went out and every evening when he came home. + </p> + <p> + “But do you not understand; you great booby,” she said, + “that I hate him just because he married me, because he bought me, + in fact; because everything that he says and does, everything that he + thinks, acts on my nerves? He exasperates me every moment by his + stupidity, which you call his kindness; by his dullness, which you call + his confidence, and then, above all, because he is my husband, instead of + you. I feel him between us, although he does not interfere with us much. + And then—-and then! No, it is, after all, too idiotic of him not to + guess anything! I wish he would, at any rate, be a little jealous. There + are moments when I feel inclined to say to him: 'Do you not see, you + stupid creature, that Paul is my lover?' + </p> + <p> + “It is quite incomprehensible that you cannot understand how hateful + he is to me, how he irritates me. You always seem to like him, and you + shake hands with him cordially. Men are very extraordinary at times.” + </p> + <p> + “One must know how to dissimulate, my dear.” + </p> + <p> + “It is no question of dissimulation, but of feeling. One might think + that, when you men deceive one another, you like each other better on that + account, while we women hate a man from the moment that we have betrayed + him.” + </p> + <p> + “I do not see why one should hate an excellent fellow because one is + friendly with his wife.” + </p> + <p> + “You do not see it? You do not see it? You all of you are wanting in + refinement of feeling. However, that is one of those things which one + feels and cannot express. And then, moreover, one ought not. No, you would + not understand; it is quite useless! You men have no delicacy of feeling.” + </p> + <p> + And smiling, with the gentle contempt of an impure woman, she put both her + hands on his shoulders and held up her lips to him. He stooped down and + clasped her closely in his arms, and their lips met. And as they stood in + front of the mantel mirror, another couple exactly like them embraced + behind the clock. + </p> + <p> + They had heard nothing, neither the noise of the key nor the creaking of + the door, but suddenly Henriette, with a loud cry, pushed Limousin away + with both her arms, and they saw Parent looking at them, livid with rage, + without his shoes on and his hat over his forehead. He looked at each, one + after the other, with a quick glance of his eyes and without moving his + head. He appeared beside himself. Then, without saying a word, he threw + himself on Limousin, seized him as if he were going to strangle him, and + flung him into the opposite corner of the room so violently that the other + lost his balance, and, beating the air with his hand, struck his head + violently against the wall. + </p> + <p> + When Henriette saw that her husband was going to murder her lover, she + threw herself on Parent, seized him by the neck, and digging her ten + delicate, rosy fingers into his neck, she squeezed him so tightly, with + all the vigor of a desperate woman, that the blood spurted out under her + nails, and she bit his shoulder, as if she wished to tear it with her + teeth. Parent, half-strangled and choking, loosened his hold on Limousin, + in order to shake off his wife, who was hanging to his neck. Putting his + arms round her waist, he flung her also to the other end of the + drawing-room. + </p> + <p> + Then, as his passion was short-lived, like that of most good-tempered men, + and his strength was soon exhausted, he remained standing between the two, + panting, worn out, not knowing what to do next. His brutal fury had + expended itself in that effort, like the froth of a bottle of champagne, + and his unwonted energy ended in a gasping for breath. As soon as he could + speak, however, he said: + </p> + <p> + “Go away—both of you—immediately! Go away!” + </p> + <p> + Limousin remained motionless in his corner, against the wall, too startled + to understand anything as yet, too frightened to move a finger; while + Henriette, with her hands resting on a small, round table, her head bent + forward, her hair hanging down, the bodice of her dress unfastened, waited + like a wild animal which is about to spring. Parent continued in a + stronger voice: “Go away immediately. Get out of the house!” + </p> + <p> + His wife, however, seeing that he had got over his first exasperation grew + bolder, drew herself up, took two steps toward him, and, grown almost + insolent, she said: “Have you lost your head? What is the matter + with you? What is the meaning of this unjustifiable violence?” + </p> + <p> + But he turned toward her, and raising his fist to strike her, he stammered + out: “Oh—oh—this is too much, too much! I heard + everything! Everything—do you understand? Everything! You wretch—you + wretch! You are two wretches! Get out of the house, both of you! + Immediately, or I shall kill you! Leave the house!” + </p> + <p> + She saw that it was all over, and that he knew everything; that she could + not prove her innocence, and that she must comply. But all her impudence + had returned to her, and her hatred for the man, which was aggravated now, + drove her to audacity, made her feel the need of bravado, and of defying + him, and she said in a clear voice: “Come, Limousin; as he is going + to turn me out of doors, I will go to your lodgings with you.” + </p> + <p> + But Limousin did not move, and Parent, in a fresh access of rage, cried + out: “Go, will you? Go, you wretches! Or else—or else——” + He seized a chair and whirled it over his head. + </p> + <p> + Henriette walked quickly across the room, took her lover by the arm, + dragged him from the wall, to which he appeared fixed, and led him toward + the door, saying: “Do come, my friend—you see that the man is + mad. Do come!” + </p> + <p> + As she went out she turned round to her husband, trying to think of + something that she could do, something that she could invent to wound him + to the heart as she left the house, and an idea struck her, one of those + venomous, deadly ideas in which all a woman's perfidy shows itself, and + she said resolutely: “I am going to take my child with me.” + </p> + <p> + Parent was stupefied, and stammered: “Your—your—child? + You dare to talk of your child? You venture—you venture to ask for + your child—after-after—Oh, oh, that is too much! Go, you vile + creature! Go!” + </p> + <p> + She went up to him again, almost smiling, almost avenged already, and + defying him, standing close to him, and face to face, she said: “I + want my child, and you have no right to keep him, because he is not yours—do + you understand? He is not yours! He is Limousin's!” + </p> + <p> + And Parent cried out in bewilderment: “You lie—you lie—worthless + woman!” + </p> + <p> + But she continued: “You fool! Everybody knows it except you. I tell + you, this is his father. You need only look at him to see it.” + </p> + <p> + Parent staggered backward, and then he suddenly turned round, took a + candle, and rushed into the next room; returning almost immediately, + carrying little George wrapped up in his bedclothes. The child, who had + been suddenly awakened, was crying from fright. Parent threw him into his + wife's arms, and then, without speaking, he pushed her roughly out toward + the stairs, where Limousin was waiting, from motives of prudence. + </p> + <p> + Then he shut the door again, double-locked and bolted it, but had scarcely + got back into the drawing-room when he fell to the floor at full length. + </p> + <p> + Parent lived alone, quite alone. During the five weeks that followed their + separation, the feeling of surprise at his new life prevented him from + thinking much. He had resumed his bachelor life, his habits of lounging, + about, and took his meals at a restaurant, as he had done formerly. As he + wished to avoid any scandal, he made his wife an allowance, which was + arranged by their lawyers. By degrees, however, the thought of the child + began to haunt him. Often, when he was at home alone at night, he suddenly + thought he heard George calling out “Papa,” and his heart + would begin to beat, and he would get up quickly and open the door, to see + whether, by chance, the child might have returned, as dogs or pigeons do. + Why should a child have less instinct than an animal? On finding that he + was mistaken, he would sit down in his armchair again and think of the + boy. He would think of him for hours and whole days. It was not only a + moral, but still more a physical obsession, a nervous longing to kiss him, + to hold and fondle him, to take him on his knees and dance him. He felt + the child's little arms around his neck, his little mouth pressing a kiss + on his beard, his soft hair tickling his cheeks, and the remembrance of + all those childish ways made him suffer as a man might for some beloved + woman who has left him. Twenty or a hundred times a day he asked himself + the question whether he was or was not George's father, and almost before + he was in bed every night he recommenced the same series of despairing + questionings. + </p> + <p> + He especially dreaded the darkness of the evening, the melancholy feeling + of the twilight. Then a flood of sorrow invaded his heart, a torrent of + despair which seemed to overwhelm him and drive him mad. He was as afraid + of his own thoughts as men are of criminals, and he fled before them as + one does from wild beasts. Above all things, he feared his empty, dark, + horrible dwelling and the deserted streets, in which, here and there, a + gas lamp flickered, where the isolated foot passenger whom one hears in + the distance seems to be a night prowler, and makes one walk faster or + slower, according to whether he is coming toward you or following you. + </p> + <p> + And in spite of himself, and by instinct, Parent went in the direction of + the broad, well-lighted, populous streets. The light and the crowd + attracted him, occupied his mind and distracted his thoughts, and when he + was tired of walking aimlessly about among the moving crowd, when he saw + the foot passengers becoming more scarce and the pavements less crowded, + the fear of solitude and silence drove him into some large cafe full of + drinkers and of light. He went there as flies go to a candle, and he would + sit down at one of the little round tables and ask for a “bock,” + which he would drink slowly, feeling uneasy every time a customer got up + to go. He would have liked to take him by the arm, hold him back, and beg + him to stay a little longer, so much did he dread the time when the waiter + should come up to him and say sharply: “Come, monsieur, it is + closing time!” + </p> + <p> + He thus got into the habit of going to the beer houses, where the + continual elbowing of the drinkers brings you in contact with a familiar + and silent public, where the heavy clouds of tobacco smoke lull + disquietude, while the heavy beer dulls the mind and calms the heart. He + almost lived there. He was scarcely up before he went there to find people + to distract his glances and his thoughts, and soon, as he felt too lazy to + move, he took his meals there. + </p> + <p> + After every meal, during more than an hour, he sipped three or four small + glasses of brandy, which stupefied him by degrees, and then his head + drooped on his chest, he shut his eyes, and went to sleep. Then, awaking, + he raised himself on the red velvet seat, straightened his waistcoat, + pulled down his cuffs, and took up the newspapers again, though he had + already seen them in the morning, and read them all through again, from + beginning to end. Between four and five o'clock he went for a walk on the + boulevards, to get a little fresh air, as he used to say, and then came + back to the seat which had been reserved for him, and asked for his + absinthe. He would talk to the regular customers whose acquaintance he had + made. They discussed the news of the day and political events, and that + carried him on till dinner time; and he spent the evening as he had the + afternoon, until it was time to close. That was a terrible moment for him + when he was obliged to go out into the dark, into his empty room full of + dreadful recollections, of horrible thoughts, and of mental agony. He no + longer saw any of his old friends, none of his relatives, nobody who might + remind him of his past life. But as his apartments were a hell to him, he + took a room in a large hotel, a good room on the ground floor, so as to + see the passers-by. He was no longer alone in that great building. He felt + people swarming round him, he heard voices in the adjoining rooms, and + when his former sufferings tormented him too much at the sight of his bed, + which was turned down, and of his solitary fireplace, he went out into the + wide passages and walked up and down them like a sentinel, before all the + closed doors, and looked sadly at the shoes standing in couples outside + them, women's little boots by the side of men's thick ones, and he thought + that, no doubt, all these people were happy, and were sleeping in their + warm beds. Five years passed thus; five miserable years. But one day, when + he was taking his usual walk between the Madeleine and the Rue Drouot, he + suddenly saw a lady whose bearing struck him. A tall gentleman and a child + were with her, and all three were walking in front of him. He asked + himself where he had seen them before, when suddenly he recognized a + movement of her hand; it was his wife, his wife with Limousin and his + child, his little George. + </p> + <p> + His heart beat as if it would suffocate him, but he did not stop, for he + wished to see them, and he followed them. They looked like a family of the + better middle class. Henriette was leaning on Paul's arm, and speaking to + him in a low voice, and looking at him sideways occasionally. Parent got a + side view of her and recognized her pretty features, the movements of her + lips, her smile, and her coaxing glances. But the child chiefly took up + his attention. How tall and strong he was! Parent could not see his face, + but only his long, fair curls. That tall boy with bare legs, who was + walking by his mother's side like a little man, was George. He saw them + suddenly, all three, as they stopped in front of a shop. Limousin had + grown very gray, had aged and was thinner; his wife, on the contrary, was + as young looking as ever, and had grown stouter. George he would not have + recognized, he was so different from what he had been formerly. + </p> + <p> + They went on again and Parent followed them. He walked on quickly, passed + them, and then turned round, so as to meet them face to face. As he passed + the child he felt a mad longing to take him into his arms and run off with + him, and he knocked against him as if by accident. The boy turned round + and looked at the clumsy man angrily, and Parent hurried away, shocked, + hurt, and pursued by that look. He went off like a thief, seized with a + horrible fear lest he should have been seen and recognized by his wife and + her lover. He went to his cafe without stopping, and fell breathless into + his chair. That evening he drank three absinthes. For four months he felt + the pain of that meeting in his heart. Every night he saw the three again, + happy and tranquil, father, mother, and child walking on the boulevard + before going in to dinner, and that new vision effaced the old one. It was + another matter, another hallucination now, and also a fresh pain. Little + George, his little George, the child he had so much loved and so often + kissed, disappeared in the far distance, and he saw a new one, like a + brother of the first, a little boy with bare legs, who did not know him! + He suffered terribly at that thought. The child's love was dead; there was + no bond between them; the child would not have held out his arms when he + saw him. He had even looked at him angrily. + </p> + <p> + Then, by degrees he grew calmer, his mental torture diminished, the image + that had appeared to his eyes and which haunted his nights became more + indistinct and less frequent. He began once more to live nearly like + everybody else, like all those idle people who drink beer off + marble-topped tables and wear out their clothes on the threadbare velvet + of the couches. + </p> + <p> + He grew old amid the smoke from pipes, lost his hair under the gas lights, + looked upon his weekly bath, on his fortnightly visit to the barber's to + have his hair cut, and on the purchase of a new coat or hat as an event. + When he got to his cafe in a new hat he would look at himself in the glass + for a long time before sitting down, and take it off and put it on again + several times, and at last ask his friend, the lady at the bar, who was + watching him with interest, whether she thought it suited him. + </p> + <p> + Two or three times a year he went to the theatre, and in the summer he + sometimes spent his evenings at one of the open-air concerts in the Champs + Elysees. And so the years followed each other slow, monotonous, and short, + because they were quite uneventful. + </p> + <p> + He very rarely now thought of the dreadful drama which had wrecked his + life; for twenty years had passed since that terrible evening. But the + life he had led since then had worn him out. The landlord of his cafe + would often say to him: “You ought to pull yourself together a + little, Monsieur Parent; you should get some fresh air and go into the + country. I assure you that you have changed very much within the last few + months.” And when his customer had gone out be used to say to the + barmaid: “That poor Monsieur Parent is booked for another world; it + is bad never to get out of Paris. Advise him to go out of town for a day + occasionally; he has confidence in you. Summer will soon be here; that + will put him straight.” + </p> + <p> + And she, full of pity and kindness for such a regular customer, said to + Parent every day: “Come, monsieur, make up your mind to get a little + fresh air. It is so charming in the country when the weather is fine. Oh, + if I could, I would spend my life there!” + </p> + <p> + By degrees he was seized with a vague desire to go just once and see + whether it was really as pleasant there as she said, outside the walls of + the great city. One morning he said to her: + </p> + <p> + “Do you know where one can get a good luncheon in the neighborhood + of Paris?” + </p> + <p> + “Go to the Terrace at Saint-Germain; it is delightful there!” + </p> + <p> + He had been there formerly, just when he became engaged. He made up his + mind to go there again, and he chose a Sunday, for no special reason, but + merely because people generally do go out on Sundays, even when they have + nothing to do all the week; and so one Sunday morning he went to + Saint-Germain. He felt low-spirited and vexed at having yielded to that + new longing, and at having broken through his usual habits. He was + thirsty; he would have liked to get out at every station and sit down in + the cafe which he saw outside and drink a “bock” or two, and + then take the first train back to Paris. The journey seemed very long to + him. He could remain sitting for whole days, as long as he had the same + motionless objects before his eyes, but he found it very trying and + fatiguing to remain sitting while he was being whirled along, and to see + the whole country fly by, while he himself was motionless. + </p> + <p> + However, he found the Seine interesting every time he crossed it. Under + the bridge at Chatou he saw some small boats going at great speed under + the vigorous strokes of the bare-armed oarsmen, and he thought: “There + are some fellows who are certainly enjoying themselves!” The train + entered the tunnel just before you get to the station at Saint-Germain, + and presently stopped at the platform. Parent got out, and walked slowly, + for he already felt tired, toward the Terrace, with his hands behind his + back, and when he got to the iron balustrade, stopped to look at the + distant horizon. The immense plain spread out before him vast as the sea, + green and studded with large villages, almost as populous as towns. The + sun bathed the whole landscape in its full, warm light. The Seine wound + like an endless serpent through the plain, flowed round the villages and + along the slopes. Parent inhaled the warm breeze, which seemed to make his + heart young again, to enliven his spirits, and to vivify his blood, and + said to himself: + </p> + <p> + “Why, it is delightful here.” + </p> + <p> + Then he went on a few steps, and stopped again to look about him. The + utter misery of his existence seemed to be brought into full relief by the + intense light which inundated the landscape. He saw his twenty years of + cafe life—dull, monotonous, heartbreaking. He might have traveled as + others did, have gone among foreigners, to unknown countries beyond the + sea, have interested himself somewhat in everything which other men are + passionately devoted to, in arts and science; he might have enjoyed life + in a thousand forms, that mysterious life which is either charming or + painful, constantly changing, always inexplicable and strange. Now, + however, it was too late. He would go on drinking “bock” after + “bock” until he died, without any family, without friends, + without hope, without any curiosity about anything, and he was seized with + a feeling of misery and a wish to run away, to hide himself in Paris, in + his cafe and his lethargy! All the thoughts, all the dreams, all the + desires which are dormant in the slough of stagnating hearts had + reawakened, brought to life by those rays of sunlight on the plain. + </p> + <p> + Parent felt that if he were to remain there any longer he should lose his + reason, and he made haste to get to the Pavilion Henri IV for lunch, to + try and forget his troubles under—the influence of wine and alcohol, + and at any rate to have some one to speak to. + </p> + <p> + He took a small table in one of the arbors, from which one can see all the + surrounding country, ordered his lunch, and asked to be served at once. + Then some more people arrived and sat down at tables near him. He felt + more comfortable; he was no longer alone. Three persons were eating + luncheon near him. He looked at them two or three times without seeing + them clearly, as one looks at total strangers. Suddenly a woman's voice + sent a shiver through him which seemed to penetrate to his very marrow. + “George,” it said, “will you carve the chicken?” + </p> + <p> + And another voice replied: “Yes, mamma.” + </p> + <p> + Parent looked up, and he understood; he guessed immediately who those + people were! He should certainly not have known them again. His wife had + grown quite white and very stout, an elderly, serious, respectable lady, + and she held her head forward as she ate for fear of spotting her dress, + although she had a table napkin tucked under her chin. George had become a + man. He had a slight beard, that uneven and almost colorless beard which + adorns the cheeks of youths. He wore a high hat, a white waistcoat, and a + monocle, because it looked swell, no doubt. Parent looked at him in + astonishment. Was that George, his son? No, he did not know that young + man; there could be nothing in common between them. Limousin had his back + to him, and was eating; with his shoulders rather bent. + </p> + <p> + All three of them seemed happy and satisfied; they came and took luncheon + in the country at well-known restaurants. They had had a calm and pleasant + existence, a family existence in a warm and comfortable house, filled with + all those trifles which make life agreeable, with affection, with all + those tender words which people exchange continually when they love each + other. They had lived thus, thanks to him, Parent, on his money, after + having deceived him, robbed him, ruined him! They had condemned him, the + innocent, simple-minded, jovial man, to all the miseries of solitude, to + that abominable life which he had led, between the pavement and a + bar-room, to every mental torture and every physical misery! They had made + him a useless, aimless being, a waif in the world, a poor old man without + any pleasures, any prospects, expecting nothing from anybody or anything. + For him, the world was empty, because he loved nothing in the world. He + might go among other nations, or go about the streets, go into all the + houses in Paris, open every room, but he would not find inside any door + the beloved face, the face of wife or child which smiles when it sees you. + This idea worked upon him more than any other, the idea of a door which + one opens, to see and to embrace somebody behind it. + </p> + <p> + And that was the fault of those three wretches! The fault of that + worthless woman, of that infamous friend, and of that tall, light-haired + lad who put on insolent airs. Now he felt as angry with the child as he + did with the other two. Was he not Limousin's son? Would Limousin have + kept him and loved him otherwise? Would not Limousin very quickly have got + rid of the mother and of the child if he had not felt sure that it was + his, positively his? Does anybody bring up other people's children? And + now they were there, quite close to him, those three who had made him + suffer so much. + </p> + <p> + Parent looked at them, irritated and excited at the recollection of all + his sufferings and of his despair, and was especially exasperated at their + placid and satisfied looks. He felt inclined to kill them, to throw his + siphon of Seltzer water at them, to split open Limousin's head as he every + moment bent it over his plate, raising it again immediately. + </p> + <p> + He would have his revenge now, on the spot, as he had them under his hand. + But how? He tried to think of some means, he pictured such dreadful things + as one reads of in the newspapers occasionally, but could not hit on + anything practical. And he went on drinking to excite himself, to give + himself courage not to allow such an opportunity to escape him, as he + might never have another. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly an idea struck him, a terrible idea; and he left off drinking to + mature it. He smiled as he murmured: “I have them, I have them! We + will see; we will see!” + </p> + <p> + They finished their luncheon slowly, conversing with perfect unconcern. + Parent could not hear what they were saying, but he saw their quiet + gestures. His wife's face especially exasperated him. She had assumed a + haughty air, the air of a comfortable, devout woman, of an unapproachable, + devout woman, sheathed in principles, iron-clad in virtue. They paid their + bill and got up from table. Parent then noticed Limousin. He might have + been taken for a retired diplomat, for he looked a man of great + importance, with his soft white whiskers, the tips of which touched his + coat collar. + </p> + <p> + They walked away. Parent rose and followed them. First they went up and + down the terrace, and calmly admired the landscape, and then they went + into the forest. Parent followed them at a distance, hiding himself so as + not to excite their suspicion too soon. + </p> + <p> + Parent came up to them by degrees, breathing hard with emotion and + fatigue, for he was unused to walking now. He soon came up to them, but + was seized with fear, an inexplicable fear, and he passed them, so as to + turn round and meet them face to face. He walked on, his heart beating, + feeling that they were just behind him now, and he said to himself: + “Come, now is the time. Courage! courage! Now is the moment!” + </p> + <p> + He turned round. They were all three sitting on the grass, at the foot of + a huge tree, and were still chatting. He made up his mind, and walked back + rapidly; stopping in front of them in the middle of the road, he said + abruptly, in a voice broken by emotion: + </p> + <p> + “It is I! Here I am! I suppose you did not expect me?” + </p> + <p> + They all three stared at this man, who seemed to be insane. He continued: + </p> + <p> + “One would suppose that you did not know me again. Just look at me! + I am Parent, Henri Parent. You thought it was all over, and that you would + never see me again. Ah! but here I am once more, you see, and now we will + have an explanation.” + </p> + <p> + Henriette, terrified, hid her face in her hands, murmuring: “Oh! + Good heavens!” + </p> + <p> + Seeing this stranger, who seemed to be threatening his mother, George + sprang up, ready to seize him by the collar. Limousin, thunderstruck, + looked in horror at this apparition, who, after gasping for breath, + continued: + </p> + <p> + “So now we will have an explanation; the proper moment has come! Ah! + you deceived me, you condemned me to the life of a convict, and you + thought that I should never catch you!” + </p> + <p> + The young man took him by the shoulders and pushed him back. + </p> + <p> + “Are you mad?” he asked. “What do you want? Go on your + way immediately, or I shall give you a thrashing!” + </p> + <p> + “What do I want?” replied Parent. “I want to tell you + who these people are.” + </p> + <p> + George, however, was in a rage, and shook him; and was even going to + strike him. + </p> + <p> + “Let me go,” said Parent. “I am your father. There, see + whether they recognize me now, the wretches!” + </p> + <p> + The young man, thunderstruck, unclenched his fists and turned toward his + mother. Parent, as soon as he was released, approached her. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” he said, “tell him yourself who I am! Tell him + that my name is Henri Parent, that I am his father because his name is + George Parent, because you are my wife, because you are all three living + on my money, on the allowance of ten thousand francs which I have made you + since I drove you out of my house. Will you tell him also why I drove you + out? Because I surprised you with this beggar, this wretch, your lover! + Tell him what I was, an honorable man, whom you married for money, and + whom you deceived from the very first day. Tell him who you are, and who I + am——” + </p> + <p> + He stammered and gasped for breath in his rage. The woman exclaimed in a + heartrending voice: + </p> + <p> + “Paul, Paul, stop him; make him be quiet! Do not let him say this + before my son!” + </p> + <p> + Limousin had also risen to his feet. He said in a very low voice: “Hold + your tongue! Hold your tongue! Do you understand what you are doing?” + </p> + <p> + “I quite know what I am doing,” resumed Parent, “and + that is not all. There is one thing that I will know, something that has + tormented me for twenty years.” Then, turning to George, who was + leaning against a tree in consternation, he said: + </p> + <p> + “Listen to me. When she left my house she thought it was not enough + to have deceived me, but she also wanted to drive me to despair. You were + my only consolation, and she took you with her, swearing that I was not + your father, but, that he was your father. Was she lying? I do not know. I + have been asking myself the question for the last twenty years.” He + went close up to her, tragic and terrible, and, pulling away her hands, + with which she had covered her face, he continued: + </p> + <p> + “Well, now! I call upon you to tell me which of us two is the father + of this young man; he or I, your husband or your lover. Come! Come! tell + us.” + </p> + <p> + Limousin rushed at him. Parent pushed him back, and, sneering in his fury, + he said: “Ah! you are brave now! You are braver than you were that + day when you ran downstairs because you thought I was going to murder you. + Very well! If she will not reply, tell me yourself. You ought to know as + well as she. Tell me, are you this young fellow's father? Come! Come! Tell + me!” + </p> + <p> + He turned to his wife again. “If you will not tell me, at any rate + tell your son. He is a man, now, and he has the right to know who his + father is. I do not know, and I never did know, never, never! I cannot + tell you, my boy.” + </p> + <p> + He seemed to be losing his senses; his voice grew shrill and he worked his + arms about as if he had an epileptic 'fit. + </p> + <p> + “Come! . . . Give me an answer. She does not know . . . I will make + a bet that she does not know . . . No . . . she does not know, by Jove! + Ha! ha! ha! Nobody knows . . . nobody . . . How can one know such things? + </p> + <p> + “You will not know either, my boy, you will not know any more than I + do . . . never. . . . Look here . . . Ask her you will find that she does + not know . . . I do not know either . . . nor does he, nor do you, nobody + knows. You can choose . . . You can choose . . . yes, you can choose him + or me. . . Choose. + </p> + <p> + “Good evening . . . It is all over. If she makes up her mind to tell + you, you will come and let me know, will you not? I am living at the Hotel + des Continents . . . I should be glad to know . . . Good evening . . . I + hope you will enjoy yourselves very much . . .” + </p> + <p> + And he went away gesticulating, talking to himself under the tall trees, + in the quiet, the cool air, which was full of the fragrance of growing + plants. He did not turn round to look at them, but went straight on, + walking under the stimulus of his rage, under a storm of passion, with + that one fixed idea in his mind. All at once he found himself outside the + station. A train was about to start and he got in. During the journey his + anger calmed down, he regained his senses and returned to Paris, + astonished at his own boldness, full of aches and pains as if he had + broken some bones. Nevertheless, he went to have a “bock” at + his brewery. + </p> + <p> + When she saw him come in, Mademoiselle Zoe asked in surprise: “What! + back already? are you tired?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—yes, I am tired . . . very tired . . . You know, when one + is not used to going out. . . I've had enough of it. I shall not go into + the country again. It would have been better to have stayed here. For the + future, I shall not stir out.” + </p> + <p> + She could not persuade him to tell her about his little excursion, much as + she wished to. + </p> + <p> + For the first time in his life he got thoroughly drunk that night, and had + to be carried home. + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0065"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + QUEEN HORTENSE + </h2> + <p> + In Argenteuil she was called Queen Hortense. No one knew why. Perhaps it + was because she had a commanding tone of voice; perhaps because she was + tall, bony, imperious; perhaps because she governed a kingdom of servants, + chickens, dogs, cats, canaries, parrots, all so dear to an old maid's + heart. But she did not spoil these familiar friends; she had for them none + of those endearing names, none of the foolish tenderness which women seem + to lavish on the soft fur of a purring cat. She governed these beasts with + authority; she reigned. + </p> + <p> + She was indeed an old maid—one of those old maids with a harsh voice + and angular motions, whose very soul seems to be hard. She never would + stand contradiction, argument, hesitation, indifference, laziness nor + fatigue. She had never been heard to complain, to regret anything, to envy + anyone. She would say: “Everyone has his share,” with the + conviction of a fatalist. She did not go to church, she had no use for + priests, she hardly believed in God, calling all religious things “weeper's + wares.” + </p> + <p> + For thirty years she had lived in her little house, with its tiny garden + running along the street; she had never changed her habits, only changing + her servants pitilessly, as soon as they reached twenty-one years of age. + </p> + <p> + When her dogs, cats and birds would die of old age, or from an accident, + she would replace them without tears and without regret; with a little + spade she would bury the dead animal in a strip of ground, throwing a few + shovelfuls of earth over it and stamping it down with her feet in an + indifferent manner. + </p> + <p> + She had a few friends in town, families of clerks who went to Paris every + day. Once in a while she would be invited out, in the evening, to tea. She + would inevitably fall asleep, and she would have to be awakened, when it + was time for her to go home. She never allowed anyone to accompany her, + fearing neither light nor darkness. She did not appear to like children. + </p> + <p> + She kept herself busy doing countless masculine tasks—carpentering, + gardening, sawing or chopping wood, even laying bricks when it was + necessary. + </p> + <p> + She had relatives who came to see her twice a year, the Cimmes and the + Colombels, her two sisters having married, one of them a florist and the + other a retired merchant. The Cimmes had no children; the Colombels had + three: Henri, Pauline and Joseph. Henri was twenty, Pauline seventeen and + Joseph only three. + </p> + <p> + There was no love lost between the old maid and her relatives. + </p> + <p> + In the spring of the year 1882 Queen Hortense suddenly fell sick. The + neighbors called in a physician, whom she immediately drove out. A priest + then having presented himself, she jumped out of bed, in order to throw + him out of the house. + </p> + <p> + The young servant, in despair, was brewing her some tea. + </p> + <p> + After lying in bed for three days the situation appeared so serious that + the barrel-maker, who lived next door, to the right, acting on advice from + the doctor, who had forcibly returned to the house, took it upon himself + to call together the two families. + </p> + <p> + They arrived by the same train, towards ten in the morning, the Colombels + bringing little Joseph with them. + </p> + <p> + When they got to the garden gate, they saw the servant seated in the chair + against the wall, crying. + </p> + <p> + The dog was sleeping on the door mat in the broiling sun; two cats, which + looked as though they might be dead, were stretched out in front of the + two windows, their eyes closed, their paws and tails stretched out at full + length. + </p> + <p> + A big clucking hen was parading through the garden with a whole regiment + of yellow, downy chicks, and a big cage hanging from the wall and covered + with pimpernel, contained a population of birds which were chirping away + in the warmth of this beautiful spring morning. + </p> + <p> + In another cage, shaped like a chalet, two lovebirds sat motionless side + by side on their perch. + </p> + <p> + M. Cimme, a fat, puffing person, who always entered first everywhere, + pushing aside everyone else, whether man or woman, when it was necessary, + asked: + </p> + <p> + “Well, Celeste, aren't things going well?” + </p> + <p> + The little servant moaned through her tears: + </p> + <p> + “She doesn't even recognize me any more. The doctor says it's the + end.” + </p> + <p> + Everybody looked around. + </p> + <p> + Mme. Cimme and Mme. Colombel immediately embraced each other, without + saying a word. They looked very much alike, having always worn their hair + in Madonna bands, and loud red French cashmere shawls. + </p> + <p> + Cimme turned to his brother-in-law, a pale, sallow-complexioned, thin + man, wasted by stomach complaints, who limped badly, and said in a serious + tone of voice: + </p> + <p> + “Gad! It was high time.” + </p> + <p> + But no one dared to enter the dying woman's room on the ground floor. Even + Cimme made way for the others. Colombel was the first to make up his mind, + and, swaying from side to side like the mast of a ship, the iron ferule of + his cane clattering on the paved hall, he entered. + </p> + <p> + The two women were the next to venture, and M. Cimmes closed the + procession. + </p> + <p> + Little Joseph had remained outside, pleased at the sight of the dog. + </p> + <p> + A ray of sunlight seemed to cut the bed in two, shining just on the hands, + which were moving nervously, continually opening and closing. The fingers + were twitching as though moved by some thought, as though trying to point + out a meaning or idea, as though obeying the dictates of a will. The rest + of the body lay motionless under the sheets. The angular frame showed not + a single movement. The eyes remained closed. + </p> + <p> + The family spread out in a semi-circle and, without a word, they began to + watch the contracted chest and the short, gasping breathing. The little + servant had followed them and was still crying. + </p> + <p> + At last Cimme asked: + </p> + <p> + “Exactly what did the doctor say?” + </p> + <p> + The girl stammered: + </p> + <p> + “He said to leave her alone, that nothing more could be done for + her.” + </p> + <p> + But suddenly the old woman's lips began to move. She seemed to be uttering + silent words, words hidden in the brain of this dying being, and her hands + quickened their peculiar movements. + </p> + <p> + Then she began to speak in a thin, high voice, which no one had ever + heard, a voice which seemed to come from the distance, perhaps from the + depths of this heart which had always been closed. + </p> + <p> + Cimme, finding this scene painful, walked away on tiptoe. Colombel, whose + crippled leg was growing tired, sat down. + </p> + <p> + The two women remained standing. + </p> + <p> + Queen Hortense was now babbling away, and no one could understand a word. + She was pronouncing names, many names, tenderly calling imaginary people. + </p> + <p> + “Come here, Philippe, kiss your mother. Tell me, child, do you love + your mamma? You, Rose, take care of your little sister while I am away. + And don't leave her alone. Don't play with matches!” + </p> + <p> + She stopped for a while, then, in a louder voice, as though she were + calling someone: “Henriette!” then waited a moment and + continued: + </p> + <p> + “Tell your father that I wish to speak to him before he goes to + business.” And suddenly: “I am not feeling very well to-day, + darling; promise not to come home late. Tell your employer that I am sick. + You know, it isn't safe to leave the children alone when I am in bed. For + dinner I will fix you up a nice dish of rice. The little ones like that + very much. Won't Claire be happy?” + </p> + <p> + And she broke into a happy, joyous laugh, such as they had never heard: + “Look at Jean, how funny he looks! He has smeared jam all over his + face, the little pig! Look, sweetheart, look; isn't he funny?” + </p> + <p> + Colombel, who was continually lifting his tired leg from place to place, + muttered: + </p> + <p> + “She is dreaming that she has children and a husband; it is the + beginning of the death agony.” + </p> + <p> + The two sisters had not yet moved, surprised, astounded. + </p> + <p> + The little maid exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “You must take off your shawls and your hats! Would you like to go + into the parlor?” + </p> + <p> + They went out without having said a word. And Colombel followed them, + limping, once more leaving the dying woman alone. + </p> + <p> + When they were relieved of their travelling garments, the women finally + sat down. Then one of the cats left its window, stretched, jumped into the + room and on to Mme. Cimme's knees. She began to pet it. + </p> + <p> + In the next room could be heard the voice of the dying woman, living, in + this last hour, the life for which she had doubtless hoped, living her + dreams themselves just when all was over for her. + </p> + <p> + Cimme, in the garden, was playing with little Joseph and the dog, enjoying + himself in the whole hearted manner of a countryman, having completely + forgotten the dying woman. + </p> + <p> + But suddenly he entered the house and said to the girl: + </p> + <p> + “I say, my girl, are we not going to have luncheon? What do you + ladies wish to eat?” + </p> + <p> + They finally agreed on an omelet, a piece of steak with new potatoes, + cheese and coffee. + </p> + <p> + As Mme. Colombel was fumbling in her pocket for her purse, Cimme stopped + her, and, turning to the maid: “Have you got any money?” + </p> + <p> + She answered: + </p> + <p> + “Yes, monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + “How much?” + </p> + <p> + “Fifteen francs.” + </p> + <p> + “That's enough. Hustle, my girl, because I am beginning to get very + hungry:” + </p> + <p> + Mme. Cimme, looking out over the climbing vines bathed in sunlight, and at + the two turtle-doves on the roof opposite, said in an annoyed tone of + voice: + </p> + <p> + “What a pity to have had to come for such a sad occasion. It is so + nice in the country to-day.” + </p> + <p> + Her sister sighed without answering, and Colombel mumbled, thinking + perhaps of the walk ahead of him: + </p> + <p> + “My leg certainly is bothering me to-day:” + </p> + <p> + Little Joseph and the dog were making a terrible noise; one was shrieking + with pleasure, the other was barking wildly. They were playing + hide-and-seek around the three flower beds, running after each other like + mad. + </p> + <p> + The dying woman continued to call her children, talking with each one, + imagining that she was dressing them, fondling them, teaching them how to + read: “Come on! Simon repeat: A, B, C, D. You are not paying + attention, listen—D, D, D; do you hear me? Now repeat—” + </p> + <p> + Cimme exclaimed: “Funny what people say when in that condition.” + </p> + <p> + Mme. Colombel then asked: + </p> + <p> + “Wouldn't it be better if we were to return to her?” + </p> + <p> + But Cimme dissuaded her from the idea: + </p> + <p> + “What's the use? You can't change anything. We are just as + comfortable here.” + </p> + <p> + Nobody insisted. Mme. Cimme observed the two green birds called + love-birds. In a few words she praised this singular faithfulness and + blamed the men for not imitating these animals. Cimme began to laugh, + looked at his wife and hummed in a teasing way: “Tra-la-la, + tra-la-la” as though to cast a good deal of doubt on his own, + Cimme's, faithfulness: + </p> + <p> + Colombel was suffering from cramps and was rapping the floor with his + cane. + </p> + <p> + The other cat, its tail pointing upright to the sky, now came in. + </p> + <p> + They sat down to luncheon at one o'clock. + </p> + <p> + As soon as he had tasted the wine, Colombel, for whom only the best of + Bordeaux had been prescribed, called the servant back: + </p> + <p> + “I say, my girl, is this the best stuff that you have in the cellar?” + </p> + <p> + “No, monsieur; there is some better wine, which was only brought out + when you came.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, bring us three bottles of it.” + </p> + <p> + They tasted the wine and found it excellent, not because it was of a + remarkable vintage, but because it had been in the cellar fifteen years. + Cimme declared: + </p> + <p> + “That is regular invalid's wine.” + </p> + <p> + Colombel, filled with an ardent desire to gain possession of this + Bordeaux, once more questioned the girl: + </p> + <p> + “How much of it is left?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! Almost all, monsieur; mamz'elle never touched it. It's in the + bottom stack.” + </p> + <p> + Then he turned to his brother-in-law: + </p> + <p> + “If you wish, Cimme, I would be willing to exchange something else + for this wine; it suits my stomach marvellously.” + </p> + <p> + The chicken had now appeared with its regiment of young ones. The two + women were enjoying themselves throwing crumbs to them. + </p> + <p> + Joseph and the dog, who had eaten enough, were sent back to the garden. + </p> + <p> + Queen Hortense was still talking, but in a low, hushed voice, so that the + words could no longer be distinguished. + </p> + <p> + When they had finished their coffee all went in to observe the condition + of the sick woman. She seemed calm. + </p> + <p> + They went outside again and seated themselves in a circle in the garden, + in order to complete their digestion. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly the dog, who was carrying something in his mouth, began to run + around the chairs at full speed. The child was chasing him wildly. Both + disappeared into the house. + </p> + <p> + Cimme fell asleep, his well-rounded paunch bathed in the glow of the + shining sun. + </p> + <p> + The dying woman once more began to talk in a loud voice. Then suddenly she + shrieked. + </p> + <p> + The two women and Colombel rushed in to see what was the matter. Cimme, + waking up, did not budge, because, he did not wish to witness such a + scene. + </p> + <p> + She was sitting up, with haggard eyes. Her dog, in order to escape being + pursued by little Joseph, had jumped up on the bed, run over the sick + woman, and entrenched behind the pillow, was looking down at his playmate + with snapping eyes, ready to jump down and begin the game again. He was + holding in his mouth one of his mistress' slippers, which he had torn to + pieces and with which he had been playing for the last hour. + </p> + <p> + The child, frightened by this woman who had suddenly risen in front of + him, stood motionless before the bed. + </p> + <p> + The hen had also come in, and frightened by the noise, had jumped up on a + chair and was wildly calling her chicks, who were chirping distractedly + around the four legs of the chair. + </p> + <p> + Queen Hortense was shrieking: + </p> + <p> + “No, no, I don't want to die, I don't want to! I don't want to! Who + will bring up my children? Who will take care of them? Who will love them? + No, I don't want to!—I don't——” + </p> + <p> + She fell back. All was over. + </p> + <p> + The dog, wild with excitement, jumped about the room, barking. + </p> + <p> + Colombel ran to the window, calling his brother-in-law: + </p> + <p> + “Hurry up, hurry up! I think that she has just gone.” + </p> + <p> + Then Cimme, resigned, arose and entered the room, mumbling + </p> + <p> + “It didn't take as long as I thought it would!” + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0066"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + TIMBUCTOO + </h2> + <p> + The boulevard, that river of humanity, was alive with people in the golden + light of the setting sun. The whole sky was red, blinding, and behind the + Madeleine an immense bank of flaming clouds cast a shower of light the + whole length of the boulevard, vibrant as the heat from a brazier. + </p> + <p> + The gay, animated crowd went by in this golden mist and seemed to be + glorified. Their faces were gilded, their black hats and clothes took on + purple tints, the patent leather of their shoes cast bright reflections on + the asphalt of the sidewalk. + </p> + <p> + Before the cafes a mass of men were drinking opalescent liquids that + looked like precious stones dissolved in the glasses. + </p> + <p> + In the midst of the drinkers two officers in full uniform dazzled all eyes + with their glittering gold lace. They chatted, happy without asking why, + in this glory of life, in this radiant light of sunset, and they looked at + the crowd, the leisurely men and the hurrying women who left a bewildering + odor of perfume as they passed by. + </p> + <p> + All at once an enormous negro, dressed in black, with a paunch beneath his + jean waistcoat, which was covered with charms, his face shining as if it + had been polished, passed before them with a triumphant air. He laughed at + the passers-by, at the news venders, at the dazzling sky, at the whole of + Paris. He was so tall that he overtopped everyone else, and when he passed + all the loungers turned round to look at his back. + </p> + <p> + But he suddenly perceived the officers and darted towards them, jostling + the drinkers in his path. As soon as he reached their table he fixed his + gleaming and delighted eyes upon them and the corners of his mouth + expanded to his ears, showing his dazzling white teeth like a crescent + moon in a black sky. The two men looked in astonishment at this ebony + giant, unable to understand his delight. + </p> + <p> + With a voice that made all the guests laugh, he said: + </p> + <p> + “Good-day, my lieutenant.” + </p> + <p> + One of the officers was commander of a battalion, the other was a colonel. + The former said: + </p> + <p> + “I do not know you, sir. I am at a loss to know what you want of me.” + </p> + <p> + “Me like you much, Lieutenant Vedie, siege of Bezi, much grapes, + find me.” + </p> + <p> + The officer, utterly bewildered, looked at the man intently, trying to + refresh his memory. Then he cried abruptly: + </p> + <p> + “Timbuctoo?” + </p> + <p> + The negro, radiant, slapped his thigh as he uttered a tremendous laugh and + roared: + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes, my lieutenant; you remember Timbuctoo, ya. How do you do?” + </p> + <p> + The commandant held out his hand, laughing heartily as he did so. Then + Timbuctoo became serious. He seized the officer's hand and, before the + other could prevent it, he kissed it, according to negro and Arab custom. + The officer embarrassed, said in a severe tone: + </p> + <p> + “Come now, Timbuctoo, we are not in Africa. Sit down there and tell + me how it is I find you here.” + </p> + <p> + Timbuctoo swelled himself out and, his words falling over one another, + replied hurriedly: + </p> + <p> + “Make much money, much, big restaurant, good food; Prussians, me, + much steal, much, French cooking; Timbuctoo cook to the emperor; two + thousand francs mine. Ha, ha, ha, ha!” + </p> + <p> + And he laughed, doubling himself up, roaring, with wild delight in his + glances. + </p> + <p> + When the officer, who understood his strange manner of expressing himself, + had questioned him he said: + </p> + <p> + “Well, au revoir, Timbuctoo. I will see you again.” + </p> + <p> + The negro rose, this time shaking the hand that was extended to him and, + smiling still, cried: + </p> + <p> + “Good-day, good-day, my lieutenant!” + </p> + <p> + He went off so happy that he gesticulated as he walked, and people thought + he was crazy. + </p> + <p> + “Who is that brute?” asked the colonel. + </p> + <p> + “A fine fellow and a brave soldier. I will tell you what I know + about him. It is funny enough. + </p> + <p> + “You know that at the commencement of the war of 1870 I was shut up + in Bezieres, that this negro calls Bezi. We were not besieged, but + blockaded. The Prussian lines surrounded us on all sides, outside the + reach of cannon, not firing on us, but slowly starving us out. + </p> + <p> + “I was then lieutenant. Our garrison consisted of soldier of all + descriptions, fragments of slaughtered regiments, some that had run away, + freebooters separated from the main army, etc. We had all kinds, in fact + even eleven Turcos [Algerian soldiers in the service of France], who + arrived one evening no one knew whence or how. They appeared at the gates + of the city, exhausted, in rags, starving and dirty. They were handed over + to me. + </p> + <p> + “I saw very soon that they were absolutely undisciplined, always in + the street and always drunk. I tried putting them in the police station, + even in prison, but nothing was of any use. They would disappear, + sometimes for days at a time, as if they had been swallowed up by the + earth, and then come back staggering drunk. They had no money. Where did + they buy drink and how and with what? + </p> + <p> + “This began to worry me greatly, all the more as these savages + interested me with their everlasting laugh and their characteristics of + overgrown frolicsome children. + </p> + <p> + “I then noticed that they blindly obeyed the largest among them, the + one you have just seen. He made them do as he pleased, planned their + mysterious expeditions with the all-powerful and undisputed authority of a + leader. I sent for him and questioned him. Our conversation lasted fully + three hours, for it was hard for me to understand his remarkable + gibberish. As for him, poor devil, he made unheard-of efforts to make + himself intelligible, invented words, gesticulated, perspired in his + anxiety, mopping his forehead, puffing, stopping and abruptly beginning + again when he thought he had found a new method of explaining what he + wanted to say. + </p> + <p> + “I gathered finally that he was the son of a big chief, a sort of + negro king of the region around Timbuctoo. I asked him his name. He + repeated something like 'Chavaharibouhalikranafotapolara.' It seemed + simpler to me to give him the name of his native place, 'Timbuctoo.' And a + week later he was known by no other name in the garrison. + </p> + <p> + “But we were all wildly anxious to find out where this African + ex-prince procured his drinks. I discovered it in a singular manner. + </p> + <p> + “I was on the ramparts one morning, watching the horizon, when I + perceived something moving about in a vineyard. It was near the time of + vintage, the grapes were ripe, but I was not thinking of that. I thought + that a spy was approaching the town, and I organized a complete expedition + to catch the prowler. I took command myself, after obtaining permission + from the general. + </p> + <p> + “I sent out by three different gates three little companies, which + were to meet at the suspected vineyard and form a cordon round it. In + order to cut off the spy's retreat, one of these detachments had to make + at least an hour's march. A watch on the walls signalled to me that the + person I had seen had not left the place. We went along in profound + silence, creeping, almost crawling, along the ditches. At last we reached + the spot assigned. + </p> + <p> + “I abruptly disbanded my soldiers, who darted into the vineyard and + found Timbuctoo on hands and knees travelling around among the vines and + eating grapes, or rather devouring them as a dog eats his sop, snatching + them in mouthfuls from the vine with his teeth. + </p> + <p> + “I wanted him to get up, but he could not think of it. I then + understood why he was crawling on his hands and knees. As soon as we stood + him on his feet he began to wabble, then stretched out his arms and fell + down on his nose. He was more drunk than I have ever seen anyone. + </p> + <p> + “They brought him home on two poles. He never stopped laughing all + the way back, gesticulating with his arms and legs. + </p> + <p> + “This explained the mystery. My men also drank the juice of the + grapes, and when they were so intoxicated they could not stir they went to + sleep in the vineyard. As for Timbuctoo, his love of the vineyard was + beyond all belief and all bounds. He lived in it as did the thrushes, whom + he hated with the jealous hate of a rival. He repeated incessantly: 'The + thrushes eat all the grapes, captain!' + </p> + <p> + “One evening I was sent for. Something had been seen on the plain + coming in our direction. I had not brought my field-glass and I could not + distinguish things clearly. It looked like a great serpent uncoiling + itself—a convoy. How could I tell? + </p> + <p> + “I sent some men to meet this strange caravan, which presently made + its triumphal entry. Timbuctoo and nine of his comrades were carrying on a + sort of altar made of camp stools eight severed, grinning and bleeding + heads. The African was dragging along a horse to whose tail another head + was fastened, and six other animals followed, adorned in the same manner. + </p> + <p> + “This is what I learned: Having started out to the vineyard, my + Africans had suddenly perceived a detachment of Prussians approaching a + village. Instead of taking to their heels, they hid themselves, and as + soon as the Prussian officers dismounted at an inn to refresh themselves, + the eleven rascals rushed on them, put to flight the lancers, who thought + they were being attacked by the main army, killed the two sentries, then + the colonel and the five officers of his escort. + </p> + <p> + “That day I kissed Timbuctoo. I saw, however, that he walked with + difficulty and thought he was wounded. He laughed and said: + </p> + <p> + “'Me provisions for my country.' + </p> + <p> + “Timbuctoo was not fighting for glory, but for gain. Everything he + found that seemed to him to be of the slightest value, especially anything + that glistened, he put in his pocket. What a pocket! An abyss that began + at his hips and reached to his ankles. He had retained an old term used by + the troopers and called it his 'profonde,' and it was his 'profonde' in + fact. + </p> + <p> + “He had taken the gold lace off the Prussian uniforms, the brass off + their helmets, detached their buttons, etc., and had thrown them all into + his 'profonde,' which was full to overflowing. + </p> + <p> + “Each day he pocketed every glistening object that came beneath his + observation, pieces of tin or pieces of silver, and sometimes his contour + was very comical. + </p> + <p> + “He intended to carry all that back to the land of ostriches, whose + brother he might have been, this son of a king, tormented with the longing + to gobble up all objects that glistened. If he had not had his 'profonde' + what would he have done? He doubtless would have swallowed them. + </p> + <p> + “Each morning his pocket was empty. He had, then, some general store + where his riches were piled up. But where? I could not discover it. + </p> + <p> + “The general, on being informed of Timbuctoo's mighty act of valor, + had the headless bodies that had been left in the neighboring village + interred at once, that it might not be discovered that they were + decapitated. The Prussians returned thither the following day. The mayor + and seven prominent inhabitants were shot on the spot, by way of reprisal, + as having denounced the Prussians. + </p> + <p> + “Winter was here. We were exhausted and desperate. There were + skirmishes now every day. The famished men could no longer march. The + eight 'Turcos' alone (three had been killed) remained fat and shiny, + vigorous and always ready to fight. Timbuctoo was even getting fatter. He + said to me one day: + </p> + <p> + “'You much hungry; me good meat.' + </p> + <p> + “And he brought me an excellent filet. But of what? We had no more + cattle, nor sheep, nor goats, nor donkeys, nor pigs. It was impossible to + get a horse. I thought of all this after I had devoured my meat. Then a + horrible idea came to me. These negroes were born close to a country where + they eat human beings! And each day such a number of soldiers were killed + around the town! I questioned Timbuctoo. He would not answer. I did not + insist, but from that time on I declined his presents. + </p> + <p> + “He worshipped me. One night snow took us by surprise at the + outposts. We were seated, on the ground. I looked with pity at those poor + negroes shivering beneath this white frozen shower. I was very cold and + began to cough. At once I felt something fall on me like a large warm + quilt. It was Timbuctoo's cape that he had thrown on my shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “I rose and returned his garment, saying: + </p> + <p> + “'Keep it, my boy; you need it more than I do.' + </p> + <p> + “'Non, my lieutenant, for you; me no need. Me hot, hot!' + </p> + <p> + “And he looked at me entreatingly. + </p> + <p> + “'Come, obey orders. Keep your cape; I insist,' I replied. + </p> + <p> + “He then stood up, drew his sword, which he had sharpened to an edge + like a scythe, and holding in his other hand the large cape which I had + refused, said: + </p> + <p> + “'If you not keep cape, me cut. No one cape.' + </p> + <p> + “And he would have done it. So I yielded. + </p> + <p> + “Eight days later we capitulated. Some of us had been able to + escape, the rest were to march out of the town and give themselves up to + the conquerors. + </p> + <p> + “I went towards the exercising ground, where we were all to meet, + when I was dumfounded at the sight of a gigantic negro dressed in white + duck and wearing a straw hat. It was Timbuctoo. He was beaming and was + walking with his hands in his pockets in front of a little shop where two + plates and two glasses were displayed. + </p> + <p> + “'What are you doing?' I said. + </p> + <p> + “'Me not go. Me good cook; me make food for Colonel Algeria. Me eat + Prussians; much steal, much.' + </p> + <p> + “There were ten degrees of frost. I shivered at sight of this negro + in white duck. He took me by the arm and made me go inside. I noticed an + immense flag that he was going to place outside his door as soon as we had + left, for he had some shame.” + </p> + <p> + I read this sign, traced by the hand of some accomplice + </p> +<div class='pre'> + “'ARMY KITCHEN OF M. TIMBUCTOO, + “'Formerly Cook to H. M. the Emperor. + “'A Parisian Artist. Moderate Prices.' +</div> + <p> + “In spite of the despair that was gnawing at my heart, I could not + help laughing, and I left my negro to his new enterprise. + </p> + <p> + “Was not that better than taking him prisoner? + </p> + <p> + “You have just seen that he made a success of it, the rascal. + </p> + <p> + “Bezieres to-day belongs to the Germans. The 'Restaurant Timbuctoo' + is the beginning of a retaliation.” + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0067"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + TOMBSTONES + </h2> + <p> + The five friends had finished dinner, five men of the world, mature, rich, + three married, the two others bachelors. They met like this every month in + memory of their youth, and after dinner they chatted until two o'clock in + the morning. Having remained intimate friends, and enjoying each other's + society, they probably considered these the pleasantest evenings of their + lives. They talked on every subject, especially of what interested and + amused Parisians. Their conversation was, as in the majority of salons + elsewhere, a verbal rehash of what they had read in the morning papers. + </p> + <p> + One of the most lively of them was Joseph de Bardon, a celibate living the + Parisian life in its fullest and most whimsical manner. He was not a + debauche nor depraved, but a singular, happy fellow, still young, for he + was scarcely forty. A man of the world in its widest and best sense, + gifted with a brilliant, but not profound, mind, with much varied + knowledge, but no true erudition, ready comprehension without true + understanding, he drew from his observations, his adventures, from + everything he saw, met with and found, anecdotes at once comical and + philosophical, and made humorous remarks that gave him a great reputation + for cleverness in society. + </p> + <p> + He was the after dinner speaker and had his own story each time, upon + which they counted, and he talked without having to be coaxed. + </p> + <p> + As he sat smoking, his elbows on the table, a petit verre half full beside + his plate, half torpid in an atmosphere of tobacco blended with steaming + coffee, he seemed to be perfectly at home. He said between two whiffs: + </p> + <p> + “A curious thing happened to me some time ago.” + </p> + <p> + “Tell it to us,” they all exclaimed at once. + </p> + <p> + “With pleasure. You know that I wander about Paris a great deal, + like book collectors who ransack book stalls. I just look at the sights, + at the people, at all that is passing by and all that is going on. + </p> + <p> + “Toward the middle of September—it was beautiful weather—I + went out one afternoon, not knowing where I was going. One always has a + vague wish to call on some pretty woman or other. One chooses among them + in one's mental picture gallery, compares them in one's mind, weighs the + interest with which they inspire you, their comparative charms and finally + decides according to the influence of the day. But when the sun is very + bright and the air warm, it takes away from you all desire to make calls. + </p> + <p> + “The sun was bright, the air warm. I lighted a cigar and sauntered + aimlessly along the outer boulevard. Then, as I strolled on, it occurred + to me to walk as far as Montmartre and go into the cemetery. + </p> + <p> + “I am very fond of cemeteries. They rest me and give me a feeling of + sadness; I need it. And, besides, I have good friends in there, those that + one no longer goes to call on, and I go there from time to time. + </p> + <p> + “It is in this cemetery of Montmartre that is buried a romance of my + life, a sweetheart who made a great impression on me, a very emotional, + charming little woman whose memory, although it causes me great sorrow, + also fills me with regrets—regrets of all kinds. And I go to dream + beside her grave. She has finished with life. + </p> + <p> + “And then I like cemeteries because they are immense cities filled + to overflowing with inhabitants. Think how many dead people there are in + this small space, think of all the generations of Parisians who are housed + there forever, veritable troglodytes enclosed in their little vaults, in + their little graves covered with a stone or marked by a cross, while + living beings take up so much room and make so much noise —imbeciles + that they are! + </p> + <p> + “Then, again, in cemeteries there are monuments almost as + interesting as in museums. The tomb of Cavaignac reminded me, I must + confess without making any comparison, of the chef d'oeuvre of Jean + Goujon: the recumbent statue of Louis de Breze in the subterranean chapel + of the Cathedral of Rouen. All modern and realistic art has originated + there, messieurs. This dead man, Louis de Breze, is more real, more + terrible, more like inanimate flesh still convulsed with the death agony + than all the tortured corpses that are distorted to-day in funeral + monuments. + </p> + <p> + “But in Montmartre one can yet admire Baudin's monument, which has a + degree of grandeur; that of Gautier, of Murger, on which I saw the other + day a simple, paltry wreath of immortelles, yellow immortelles, brought + thither by whom? Possibly by the last grisette, very old and now janitress + in the neighborhood. It is a pretty little statue by Millet, but ruined by + dirt and neglect. Sing of youth, O Murger! + </p> + <p> + “Well, there I was in Montmartre Cemetery, and was all at once + filled with sadness, a sadness that is not all pain, a kind of sadness + that makes you think when you are in good health, 'This place is not + amusing, but my time has not come yet.' + </p> + <p> + “The feeling of autumn, of the warm moisture which is redolent of + the death of the leaves, and the weakened, weary, anaemic sun increased, + while rendering it poetical, the sensation of solitude and of finality + that hovered over this spot which savors of human mortality. + </p> + <p> + “I walked along slowly amid these streets of tombs, where the + neighbors do not visit each other, do not sleep together and do not read + the newspapers. And I began to read the epitaphs. That is the most amusing + thing in the world. Never did Labiche or Meilhac make me laugh as I have + laughed at the comical inscriptions on tombstones. Oh, how much superior + to the books of Paul de Kock for getting rid of the spleen are these + marble slabs and these crosses where the relatives of the deceased have + unburdened their sorrow, their desires for the happiness of the vanished + ones and their hope of rejoining them—humbugs! + </p> + <p> + “But I love above all in this cemetery the deserted portion, + solitary, full of great yews and cypresses, the older portion, belonging + to those dead long since, and which will soon be taken into use again; the + growing trees nourished by the human corpses cut down in order to bury in + rows beneath little slabs of marble those who have died more recently. + </p> + <p> + “When I had sauntered about long enough to refresh my mind I felt + that I would soon have had enough of it and that I must place the faithful + homage of my remembrance on my little friend's last resting place. I felt + a tightening of the heart as I reached her grave. Poor dear, she was so + dainty, so loving and so white and fresh—and now—if one should + open the grave— + </p> + <p> + “Leaning over the iron grating, I told her of my sorrow in a low + tone, which she doubtless did not hear, and was moving away when I saw a + woman in black, in deep mourning, kneeling on the next grave. Her crape + veil was turned back, uncovering a pretty fair head, the hair in Madonna + bands looking like rays of dawn beneath her sombre headdress. I stayed. + </p> + <p> + “Surely she must be in profound grief. She had covered her face with + her hands and, standing there in meditation, rigid as a statue, given up + to her grief, telling the sad rosary of her remembrances within the shadow + of her concealed and closed eyes, she herself seemed like a dead person + mourning another who was dead. All at once a little motion of her back, + like a flutter of wind through a willow, led me to suppose that she was + going to cry. She wept softly at first, then louder, with quick motions of + her neck and shoulders. Suddenly she uncovered her eyes. They were full of + tears and charming, the eyes of a bewildered woman, with which she glanced + about her as if awaking from a nightmare. She looked at me, seemed abashed + and hid her face completely in her hands. Then she sobbed convulsively, + and her head slowly bent down toward the marble. She leaned her forehead + on it, and her veil spreading around her, covered the white corners of the + beloved tomb, like a fresh token of mourning. I heard her sigh, then she + sank down with her cheek on the marble slab and remained motionless, + unconscious. + </p> + <p> + “I darted toward her, slapped her hands, blew on her eyelids, while + I read this simple epitaph: 'Here lies Louis-Theodore Carrel, Captain of + Marine Infantry, killed by the enemy at Tonquin. Pray for him.' + </p> + <p> + “He had died some months before. I was affected to tears and + redoubled my attentions. They were successful. She regained consciousness. + I appeared very much moved. I am not bad looking, I am not forty. I saw by + her first glance that she would be polite and grateful. She was, and amid + more tears she told me her history in detached fragments as well as her + gasping breath would allow, how the officer was killed at Tonquin when + they had been married a year, how she had married him for love, and being + an orphan, she had only the usual dowry. + </p> + <p> + “I consoled her, I comforted her, raised her and lifted her on her + feet. Then I said: + </p> + <p> + “'Do not stay here. Come.' + </p> + <p> + “'I am unable to walk,' she murmured. + </p> + <p> + “'I will support you.' + </p> + <p> + “'Thank you, sir; you are good. Did you also come to mourn for some + one?' + </p> + <p> + “'Yes, madame.' + </p> + <p> + “'A dead friend?' + </p> + <p> + “'Yes, madame.' + </p> + <p> + “'Your wife?' + </p> + <p> + “'A friend.' + </p> + <p> + “'One may love a friend as much as they love their wife. Love has no + law.' + </p> + <p> + “'Yes, madame.' + </p> + <p> + “And we set off together, she leaning on my arm, while I almost + carried her along the paths of the cemetery. When we got outside she + faltered: + </p> + <p> + “'I feel as if I were going to be ill.' + </p> + <p> + “'Would you like to go in anywhere, to take something?' + </p> + <p> + “'Yes, monsieur.' + </p> + <p> + “I perceived a restaurant, one of those places where the mourners of + the dead go to celebrate the funeral. We went in. I made her drink a cup + of hot tea, which seemed to revive her. A faint smile came to her lips. + She began to talk about herself. It was sad, so sad to be always alone in + life, alone in one's home, night and day, to have no one on whom one can + bestow affection, confidence, intimacy. + </p> + <p> + “That sounded sincere. It sounded pretty from her mouth. I was + touched. She was very young, perhaps twenty. I paid her compliments, which + she took in good part. Then, as time was passing, I suggested taking her + home in a carriage. She accepted, and in the cab we sat so close that our + shoulders touched. + </p> + <p> + “When the cab stopped at her house she murmured: 'I do not feel + equal to going upstairs alone, for I live on the fourth floor. You have + been so good. Will you let me take your arm as far as my own door?' + </p> + <p> + “I agreed with eagerness. She ascended the stairs slowly, breathing + hard. Then, as we stood at her door, she said: + </p> + <p> + “'Come in a few moments so that I may thank you.' + </p> + <p> + “And, by Jove, I went in. Everything was modest, even rather poor, + but simple and in good taste. + </p> + <p> + “We sat down side by side on a little sofa and she began to talk + again about her loneliness. She rang for her maid, in order to offer me + some wine. The maid did not come. I was delighted, thinking that this maid + probably came in the morning only, what one calls a charwoman. + </p> + <p> + “She had taken off her hat. She was really pretty, and she gazed at + me with her clear eyes, gazed so hard and her eyes were so clear that I + was terribly tempted. I caught her in my arms and rained kisses on her + eyelids, which she closed suddenly. + </p> + <p> + “She freed herself and pushed me away, saying: + </p> + <p> + “'Have done, have done.' + </p> + <p> + “But I next kissed her on the mouth and she did not resist, and as + our glances met after thus outraging the memory of the captain killed in + Tonquin, I saw that she had a languid, resigned expression that set my + mind at rest. + </p> + <p> + “I became very attentive and, after chatting for some time, I said: + </p> + <p> + “'Where do you dine?' + </p> + <p> + “'In a little restaurant in the neighborhood: + </p> + <p> + “'All alone?' + </p> + <p> + “'Why, yes.' + </p> + <p> + “'Will you dine with me?' + </p> + <p> + “'Where?' + </p> + <p> + “'In a good restaurant on the Boulevard.' + </p> + <p> + “She demurred a little. I insisted. She yielded, saying by way of + apology to herself: 'I am so lonely—so lonely.' Then she added: + </p> + <p> + “'I must put on something less sombre, and went into her bedroom. + When she reappeared she was dressed in half-mourning, charming, dainty and + slender in a very simple gray dress. She evidently had a costume for the + cemetery and one for the town. + </p> + <p> + “The dinner was very enjoyable. She drank some champagne, brightened + up, grew lively and I went home with her. + </p> + <p> + “This friendship, begun amid the tombs, lasted about three weeks. + But one gets tired of everything, especially of women. I left her under + pretext of an imperative journey. She made me promise that I would come + and see her on my return. She seemed to be really rather attached to me. + </p> + <p> + “Other things occupied my attention, and it was about a month before + I thought much about this little cemetery friend. However, I did not + forget her. The recollection of her haunted me like a mystery, like a + psychological problem, one of those inexplicable questions whose solution + baffles us. + </p> + <p> + “I do not know why, but one day I thought I might possibly meet her + in the Montmartre Cemetery, and I went there. + </p> + <p> + “I walked about a long time without meeting any but the ordinary + visitors to this spot, those who have not yet broken off all relations + with their dead. The grave of the captain killed at Tonquin had no mourner + on its marble slab, no flowers, no wreath. + </p> + <p> + “But as I wandered in another direction of this great city of the + dead I perceived suddenly, at the end of a narrow avenue of crosses, a + couple in deep mourning walking toward me, a man and a woman. Oh, horrors! + As they approached I recognized her. It was she! + </p> + <p> + “She saw me, blushed, and as I brushed past her she gave me a little + signal, a tiny little signal with her eye, which meant: 'Do not recognize + me!' and also seemed to say, 'Come back to see me again, my dear!' + </p> + <p> + “The man was a gentleman, distingue, chic, an officer of the Legion + of Honor, about fifty years old. He was supporting her as I had supported + her myself when we were leaving the cemetery. + </p> + <p> + “I went my way, filled with amazement, asking myself what this all + meant, to what race of beings belonged this huntress of the tombs? Was she + just a common girl, one who went to seek among the tombs for men who were + in sorrow, haunted by the recollection of some woman, a wife or a + sweetheart, and still troubled by the memory of vanished caresses? Was she + unique? Are there many such? Is it a profession? Do they parade the + cemetery as they parade the street? Or else was she only impressed with + the admirable, profoundly philosophical idea of exploiting love + recollections, which are revived in these funereal places? + </p> + <p> + “And I would have liked to know whose widow she was on that special + day.” + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0068"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + MADEMOISELLE PEARL + </h2> + <p> + I + </p> + <p> + What a strange idea it was for me to choose Mademoiselle Pearl for queen + that evening! + </p> + <p> + Every year I celebrate Twelfth Night with my old friend Chantal. My + father, who was his most intimate friend, used to take me round there when + I was a child. I continued the custom, and I doubtless shall continue it + as long as I live and as long as there is a Chantal in this world. + </p> + <p> + The Chantals lead a peculiar existence; they live in Paris as though they + were in Grasse, Evetot, or Pont-a-Mousson. + </p> + <p> + They have a house with a little garden near the observatory. They live + there as though they were in the country. Of Paris, the real Paris, they + know nothing at all, they suspect nothing; they are so far, so far away! + However, from time to time, they take a trip into it. Mademoiselle Chantal + goes to lay in her provisions, as it is called in the family. This is how + they go to purchase their provisions: + </p> + <p> + Mademoiselle Pearl, who has the keys to the kitchen closet (for the linen + closets are administered by the mistress herself), Mademoiselle Pearl + gives warning that the supply of sugar is low, that the preserves are + giving out, that there is not much left in the bottom of the coffee bag. + Thus warned against famine, Mademoiselle Chantal passes everything in + review, taking notes on a pad. Then she puts down a lot of figures and + goes through lengthy calculations and long discussions with Mademoiselle + Pearl. At last they manage to agree, and they decide upon the quantity of + each thing of which they will lay in a three months' provision; sugar, + rice, prunes, coffee, preserves, cans of peas, beans, lobster, salt or + smoked fish, etc., etc. After which the day for the purchasing is + determined on and they go in a cab with a railing round the top and drive + to a large grocery store on the other side of the river in the new + sections of the town. + </p> + <p> + Madame Chantal and Mademoiselle Pearl make this trip together, + mysteriously, and only return at dinner time, tired out, although still + excited, and shaken up by the cab, the roof of which is covered with + bundles and bags, like an express wagon. + </p> + <p> + For the Chantals all that part of Paris situated on the other side of the + Seine constitutes the new quarter, a section inhabited by a strange, noisy + population, which cares little for honor, spends its days in dissipation, + its nights in revelry, and which throws money out of the windows. From + time to time, however, the young girls are taken to the Opera-Comique or + the Theatre Francais, when the play is recommended by the paper which is + read by M. Chantal. + </p> + <p> + At present the young ladies are respectively nineteen and seventeen. They + are two pretty girls, tall and fresh, very well brought up, in fact, too + well brought up, so much so that they pass by unperceived like two pretty + dolls. Never would the idea come to me to pay the slightest attention or + to pay court to one of the young Chantal ladies; they are so immaculate + that one hardly dares speak to them; one almost feels indecent when bowing + to them. + </p> + <p> + As for the father, he is a charming man, well educated, frank, cordial, + but he likes calm and quiet above all else, and has thus contributed + greatly to the mummifying of his family in order to live as he pleased in + stagnant quiescence. He reads a lot, loves to talk and is readily + affected. Lack of contact and of elbowing with the world has made his + moral skin very tender and sensitive. The slightest thing moves him, + excites him, and makes him suffer. + </p> + <p> + The Chantals have limited connections carefully chosen in the + neighborhood. They also exchange two or three yearly visits with relatives + who live in the distance. + </p> + <p> + As for me, I take dinner with them on the fifteenth of August and on + Twelfth Night. That is as much one of my duties as Easter communion is for + a Catholic. + </p> + <p> + On the fifteenth of August a few friends are invited, but on Twelfth Night + I am the only stranger. + </p> + <p> + Well, this year, as every former year, I went to the Chantals' for my + Epiphany dinner. + </p> + <p> + According to my usual custom, I kissed M. Chantal, Madame Chantal and + Mademoiselle Pearl, and I made a deep bow to the Misses Louise and + Pauline. I was questioned about a thousand and one things, about what had + happened on the boulevards, about politics, about how matters stood in + Tong-King, and about our representatives in Parliament. Madame Chantal, a + fat lady, whose ideas always gave me the impression of being carved out + square like building stones, was accustomed to exclaiming at the end of + every political discussion: “All that is seed which does not promise + much for the future!” Why have I always imagined that Madame + Chantal's ideas are square? I don't know; but everything that she says + takes that shape in my head: a big square, with four symmetrical angles. + There are other people whose ideas always strike me as being round and + rolling like a hoop. As soon as they begin a sentence on any subject it + rolls on and on, coming out in ten, twenty, fifty round ideas, large and + small, which I see rolling along, one behind the other, to the end of the + horizon. Other people have pointed ideas—but enough of this. + </p> + <p> + We sat down as usual and finished our dinner without anything out of the + ordinary being said. At dessert the Twelfth Night cake was brought on. + Now, M. Chantal had been king every year. I don't know whether this was + the result of continued chance or a family convention, but he unfailingly + found the bean in his piece of cake, and he would proclaim Madame Chantal + to be queen. Therefore, I was greatly surprised to find something very + hard, which almost made me break a tooth, in a mouthful of cake. Gently I + took this thing from my mouth and I saw that it was a little porcelain + doll, no bigger than a bean. Surprise caused me to exclaim: + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” All looked at me, and Chantal clapped his hands and + cried: “It's Gaston! It's Gaston! Long live the king! Long live the + king!” + </p> + <p> + All took up the chorus: “Long live the king!” And I blushed to + the tip of my ears, as one often does, without any reason at all, in + situations which are a little foolish. I sat there looking at my plate, + with this absurd little bit of pottery in my fingers, forcing myself to + laugh and not knowing what to do or say, when Chantal once more cried out: + “Now, you must choose a queen!” + </p> + <p> + Then I was thunderstruck. In a second a thousand thoughts and suppositions + flashed through my mind. Did they expect me to pick out one of the young + Chantal ladies? Was that a trick to make me say which one I prefer? Was it + a gentle, light, direct hint of the parents toward a possible marriage? + The idea of marriage roams continually in houses with grown-up girls, and + takes every shape and disguise, and employs every subterfuge. A dread of + compromising myself took hold of me as well as an extreme timidity before + the obstinately correct and reserved attitude of the Misses Louise and + Pauline. To choose one of them in preference to the other seemed to me as + difficult as choosing between two drops of water; and then the fear of + launching myself into an affair which might, in spite of me, lead me + gently into matrimonial ties, by means as wary and imperceptible and as + calm as this insignificant royalty—the fear of all this haunted me. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly I had an inspiration, and I held out to Mademoiselle Pearl the + symbolical emblem. At first every one was surprised, then they doubtless + appreciated my delicacy and discretion, for they applauded furiously. + Everybody was crying: “Long live the queen! Long live the queen!” + </p> + <p> + As for herself, poor old maid, she was so amazed that she completely lost + control of herself; she was trembling and stammering: “No—no—oh! + no—not me—please—not me—I beg of you——” + </p> + <p> + Then for the first time in my life I looked at Mademoiselle Pearl and + wondered what she was. + </p> + <p> + I was accustomed to seeing her in this house, just as one sees old + upholstered armchairs on which one has been sitting since childhood + without ever noticing them. One day, with no reason at all, because a ray + of sunshine happens to strike the seat, you suddenly think: “Why, + that chair is very curious”; and then you discover that the wood has + been worked by a real artist and that the material is remarkable. I had + never taken any notice of Mademoiselle Pearl. + </p> + <p> + She was a part of the Chantal family, that was all. But how? By what + right? She was a tall, thin person who tried to remain in the background, + but who was by no means insignificant. She was treated in a friendly + manner, better than a housekeeper, not so well as a relative. I suddenly + observed several shades of distinction which I had never noticed before. + Madame Chantal said: “Pearl.” The young ladies: “Mademoiselle + Pearl,” and Chantal only addressed her as “Mademoiselle,” + with an air of greater respect, perhaps. + </p> + <p> + I began to observe her. How old could she be? Forty? Yes, forty. She was + not old, she made herself old. I was suddenly struck by this fact. She + fixed her hair and dressed in a ridiculous manner, and, notwithstanding + all that, she was not in the least ridiculous, she had such simple, + natural gracefulness, veiled and hidden. Truly, what a strange creature! + How was it I had never observed her before? She dressed her hair in a + grotesque manner with little old maid curls, most absurd; but beneath this + one could see a large, calm brow, cut by two deep lines, two wrinkles of + long sadness, then two blue eyes, large and tender, so timid, so bashful, + so humble, two beautiful eyes which had kept the expression of naive + wonder of a young girl, of youthful sensations, and also of sorrow, which + had softened without spoiling them. + </p> + <p> + Her whole face was refined and discreet, a face the expression of which + seemed to have gone out without being used up or faded by the fatigues and + great emotions of life. + </p> + <p> + What a dainty mouth! and such pretty teeth! But one would have thought + that she did not dare smile. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly I compared her to Madame Chantal! Undoubtedly Mademoiselle Pearl + was the better of the two, a hundred times better, daintier, prouder, more + noble. I was surprised at my observation. They were pouring out champagne. + I held my glass up to the queen and, with a well-turned compliment, I + drank to her health. I could see that she felt inclined to hide her head + in her napkin. Then, as she was dipping her lips in the clear wine, + everybody cried: “The queen drinks! the queen drinks!” She + almost turned purple and choked. Everybody was laughing; but I could see + that all loved her. + </p> + <p> + As soon as dinner was over Chantal took me by the arm. It was time for his + cigar, a sacred hour. When alone he would smoke it out in the street; when + guests came to dinner he would take them to the billiard room and smoke + while playing. That evening they had built a fire to celebrate Twelfth + Night; my old friend took his cue, a very fine one, and chalked it with + great care; then he said: + </p> + <p> + “You break, my boy!” + </p> + <p> + He called me “my boy,” although I was twenty-five, but he had + known me as a young child. + </p> + <p> + I started the game and made a few carroms. I missed some others, but as + the thought of Mademoiselle Pearl kept returning to my mind, I suddenly + asked: + </p> + <p> + “By the way, Monsieur Chantal, is Mademoiselle Pearl a relative of + yours?” + </p> + <p> + Greatly surprised, he stopped playing and looked at me: + </p> + <p> + “What! Don't you know? Haven't you heard about Mademoiselle Pearl?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “Didn't your father ever tell you?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, well, that's funny! That certainly is funny! Why, it's a + regular romance!” + </p> + <p> + He paused, and then continued: + </p> + <p> + “And if you only knew how peculiar it is that you should ask me that + to-day, on Twelfth Night!” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” + </p> + <p> + “Why? Well, listen. Forty-one years ago to day, the day of the + Epiphany, the following events occurred: We were then living at + Roily-le-Tors, on the ramparts; but in order that you may understand, I + must first explain the house. Roily is built on a hill, or, rather, on a + mound which overlooks a great stretch of prairie. We had a house there + with a beautiful hanging garden supported by the old battlemented wall; so + that the house was in the town on the streets, while the garden overlooked + the plain. There was a door leading from the garden to the open country, + at the bottom of a secret stairway in the thick wall—the kind you + read about in novels. A road passed in front of this door, which was + provided with a big bell; for the peasants, in order to avoid the + roundabout way, would bring their provisions up this way. + </p> + <p> + “You now understand the place, don't you? Well, this year, at + Epiphany, it had been snowing for a week. One might have thought that the + world was coming to an end. When we went to the ramparts to look over the + plain, this immense white, frozen country, which shone like varnish, would + chill our very souls. One might have thought that the Lord had packed the + world in cotton to put it away in the storeroom for old worlds. I can + assure you that it was dreary looking. + </p> + <p> + “We were a very numerous family at that time my father, my mother, + my uncle and aunt, my two brothers and four cousins; they were pretty + little girls; I married the youngest. Of all that crowd, there are only + three of us left: my wife, I, and my sister-in-law, who lives in + Marseilles. Zounds! how quickly a family like that dwindles away! I + tremble when I think of it! I was fifteen years old then, since I am + fifty-six now. + </p> + <p> + “We were going to celebrate the Epiphany, and we were all happy, + very happy! Everybody was in the parlor, awaiting dinner, and my oldest + brother, Jacques, said: 'There has been a dog howling out in the plain for + about ten minutes; the poor beast must be lost.' + </p> + <p> + “He had hardly stopped talking when the garden bell began to ring. + It had the deep sound of a church bell, which made one think of death. A + shiver ran through everybody. My father called the servant and told him to + go outside and look. We waited in complete silence; we were thinking of + the snow which covered the ground. When the man returned he declared that + he had seen nothing. The dog kept up its ceaseless howling, and always + from the same spot. + </p> + <p> + “We sat down to dinner; but we were all uneasy, especially the young + people. Everything went well up to the roast, then the bell began to ring + again, three times in succession, three heavy, long strokes which vibrated + to the tips of our fingers and which stopped our conversation short. We + sat there looking at each other, fork in the air, still listening, and + shaken by a kind of supernatural fear. + </p> + <p> + “At last my mother spoke: 'It's surprising that they should have + waited so long to come back. Do not go alone, Baptiste; one of these + gentlemen will accompany you.' + </p> + <p> + “My Uncle Francois arose. He was a kind of Hercules, very proud of + his strength, and feared nothing in the world. My father said to him: + 'Take a gun. There is no telling what it might be.' + </p> + <p> + “But my uncle only took a cane and went out with the servant. + </p> + <p> + “We others remained there trembling with fear and apprehension, + without eating or speaking. My father tried to reassure us: 'Just wait and + see,' he said; 'it will be some beggar or some traveller lost in the snow. + After ringing once, seeing that the door was not immediately opened, he + attempted again to find his way, and being unable to, he has returned to + our door.' + </p> + <p> + “Our uncle seemed to stay away an hour. At last he came back, + furious, swearing: 'Nothing at all; it's some practical joker! There is + nothing but that damned dog howling away at about a hundred yards from the + walls. If I had taken a gun I would have killed him to make him keep + quiet.' + </p> + <p> + “We sat down to dinner again, but every one was excited; we felt + that all was not over, that something was going to happen, that the bell + would soon ring again. + </p> + <p> + “It rang just as the Twelfth Night cake was being cut. All the men + jumped up together. My Uncle, Francois, who had been drinking champagne, + swore so furiously that he would murder it, whatever it might be, that my + mother and my aunt threw themselves on him to prevent his going. My + father, although very calm and a little helpless (he limped ever since he + had broken his leg when thrown by a horse), declared, in turn, that he + wished to find out what was the matter and that he was going. My brothers, + aged eighteen and twenty, ran to get their guns; and as no one was paying + any attention to me I snatched up a little rifle that was used in the + garden and got ready to accompany the expedition. + </p> + <p> + “It started out immediately. My father and uncle were walking ahead + with Baptiste, who was carrying a lantern. My brothers, Jacques and Paul, + followed, and I trailed on behind in spite of the prayers of my mother, + who stood in front of the house with her sister and my cousins. + </p> + <p> + “It had been snowing again for the last hour, and the trees were + weighted down. The pines were bending under this heavy, white garment, and + looked like white pyramids or enormous sugar cones, and through the gray + curtains of small hurrying flakes could be seen the lighter bushes which + stood out pale in the shadow. The snow was falling so thick that we could + hardly see ten feet ahead of us. But the lantern threw a bright light + around us. When we began to go down the winding stairway in the wall I + really grew frightened. I felt as though some one were walking behind me, + were going to grab me by the shoulders and carry me away, and I felt a + strong desire to return; but, as I would have had to cross the garden all + alone, I did not dare. I heard some one opening the door leading to the + plain; my uncle began to swear again, exclaiming: 'By—-! He has gone + again! If I can catch sight of even his shadow, I'll take care not to miss + him, the swine!' + </p> + <p> + “It was a discouraging thing to see this great expanse of plain, or, + rather, to feel it before us, for we could not see it; we could only see a + thick, endless veil of snow, above, below, opposite us, to the right, to + the left, everywhere. My uncle continued: + </p> + <p> + “'Listen! There is the dog howling again; I will teach him how I + shoot. That will be something gained, anyhow.' + </p> + <p> + “But my father, who was kind-hearted, went on: + </p> + <p> + “'It will be much better to go on and get the poor animal, who is + crying for hunger. The poor fellow is barking for help; he is calling like + a man in distress. Let us go to him.' + </p> + <p> + “So we started out through this mist, through this thick continuous + fall of snow, which filled the air, which moved, floated, fell, and + chilled the skin with a burning sensation like a sharp, rapid pain as each + flake melted. We were sinking in up to our knees in this soft, cold mass, + and we had to lift our feet very high in order to walk. As we advanced the + dog's voice became clearer and stronger. My uncle cried: 'Here he is!' We + stopped to observe him as one does when he meets an enemy at night. + </p> + <p> + “I could see nothing, so I ran up to the others, and I caught sight + of him; he was frightful and weird-looking; he was a big black shepherd's + dog with long hair and a wolf's head, standing just within the gleam of + light cast by our lantern on the snow. He did not move; he was silently + watching us. + </p> + <p> + “My uncle said: 'That's peculiar, he is neither advancing nor + retreating. I feel like taking a shot at him.' + </p> + <p> + “My father answered in a firm voice: 'No, we must capture him.' + </p> + <p> + “Then my brother Jacques added: 'But he is not alone. There is + something behind him.” + </p> + <p> + “There was indeed something behind him, something gray, impossible + to distinguish. We started out again cautiously. When he saw us + approaching the dog sat down. He did not look wicked. Instead, he seemed + pleased at having been able to attract the attention of some one. + </p> + <p> + “My father went straight to him and petted him. The dog licked his + hands. We saw that he was tied to the wheel of a little carriage, a sort + of toy carriage entirely wrapped up in three or four woolen blankets. We + carefully took off these coverings, and as Baptiste approached his lantern + to the front of this little vehicle, which looked like a rolling kennel, + we saw in it a little baby sleeping peacefully. + </p> + <p> + “We were so astonished that we couldn't speak. + </p> + <p> + “My father was the first to collect his wits, and as he had a warm + heart and a broad mind, he stretched his hand over the roof of the + carriage and said: 'Poor little waif, you shall be one of us!' And he + ordered my brother Jacques to roll the foundling ahead of us. Thinking out + loud, my father continued: + </p> + <p> + “'Some child of love whose poor mother rang at my door on this night + of Epiphany in memory of the Child of God.' + </p> + <p> + “He once more stopped and called at the top of his lungs through the + night to the four corners of the heavens: 'We have found it!' Then, + putting his hand on his brother's shoulder, he murmured: 'What if you had + shot the dog, Francois?' + </p> + <p> + “My uncle did not answer, but in the darkness he crossed himself, + for, notwithstanding his blustering manner, he was very religious. + </p> + <p> + “The dog, which had been untied, was following us. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! But you should have seen us when we got to the house! At first + we had a lot of trouble in getting the carriage up through the winding + stairway; but we succeeded and even rolled it into the vestibule. + </p> + <p> + “How funny mamma was! How happy and astonished! And my four little + cousins (the youngest was only six), they looked like four chickens around + a nest. At last we took the child from the carriage. It was still + sleeping. It was a girl about six weeks old. In its clothes we found ten + thousand francs in gold, yes, my boy, ten thousand francs!—which + papa saved for her dowry. Therefore, it was not a child of poor people, + but, perhaps, the child of some nobleman and a little bourgeoise of the + town—or again—we made a thousand suppositions, but we never + found out anything-never the slightest clue. The dog himself was + recognized by no one. He was a stranger in the country. At any rate, the + person who rang three times at our door must have known my parents well, + to have chosen them thus. + </p> + <p> + “That is how, at the age of six weeks, Mademoiselle Pearl entered + the Chantal household. + </p> + <p> + “It was not until later that she was called Mademoiselle Pearl. She + was at first baptized 'Marie Simonne Claire,' Claire being intended, for + her family name. + </p> + <p> + “I can assure you that our return to the diningroom was amusing, + with this baby now awake and looking round her at these people and these + lights with her vague blue questioning eyes. + </p> + <p> + “We sat down to dinner again and the cake was cut. I was king, and + for queen I took Mademoiselle Pearl, just as you did to-day. On that day + she did not appreciate the honor that was being shown her. + </p> + <p> + “Well, the child was adopted and brought up in the family. She grew, + and the years flew by. She was so gentle and loving and minded so well + that every one would have spoiled her abominably had not my mother + prevented it. + </p> + <p> + “My mother was an orderly woman with a great respect for class + distinctions. She consented to treat little Claire as she did her own + sons, but, nevertheless, she wished the distance which separated us to be + well marked, and our positions well established. Therefore, as soon as the + child could understand, she acquainted her with her story and gently, even + tenderly, impressed on the little one's mind that, for the Chantals, she + was an adopted daughter, taken in, but, nevertheless, a stranger. Claire + understood the situation with peculiar intelligence and with surprising + instinct; she knew how to take the place which was allotted her, and to + keep it with so much tact, gracefulness and gentleness that she often + brought tears to my father's eyes. My mother herself was often moved by + the passionate gratitude and timid devotion of this dainty and loving + little creature that she began calling her: 'My daughter.' At times, when + the little one had done something kind and good, my mother would raise her + spectacles on her forehead, a thing which always indicated emotion with + her, and she would repeat: 'This child is a pearl, a perfect pearl!' This + name stuck to the little Claire, who became and remained for us + Mademoiselle Pearl.” + </p> + <p> + II + </p> + <p> + M. Chantal stopped. He was sitting on the edge of the billiard table, his + feet hanging, and was playing with a ball with his left hand, while with + his right he crumpled a rag which served to rub the chalk marks from the + slate. A little red in the face, his voice thick, he was talking away to + himself now, lost in his memories, gently drifting through the old scenes + and events which awoke in his mind, just as we walk through old family + gardens where we were brought up and where each tree, each walk, each + hedge reminds us of some occurrence. + </p> + <p> + I stood opposite him leaning against the wall, my hands resting on my idle + cue. + </p> + <p> + After a slight pause he continued: + </p> + <p> + “By Jove! She was pretty at eighteen—and graceful—and + perfect. Ah! She was so sweet—and good and true—and charming! + She had such eyes—blue-transparent—clear—such eyes as I + have never seen since!” + </p> + <p> + He was once more silent. I asked: “Why did she never marry?” + </p> + <p> + He answered, not to me, but to the word “marry” which had + caught his ear: “Why? why? She never would—she never would! + She had a dowry of thirty thousand francs, and she received several offers—but + she never would! She seemed sad at that time. That was when I married my + cousin, little Charlotte, my wife, to whom I had been engaged for six + years.” + </p> + <p> + I looked at M. Chantal, and it seemed to me that I was looking into his + very soul, and I was suddenly witnessing one of those humble and cruel + tragedies of honest, straightforward, blameless hearts, one of those + secret tragedies known to no one, not even the silent and resigned + victims. A rash curiosity suddenly impelled me to exclaim: + </p> + <p> + “You should have married her, Monsieur Chantal!” + </p> + <p> + He started, looked at me, and said: + </p> + <p> + “I? Marry whom?” + </p> + <p> + “Mademoiselle Pearl.” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” + </p> + <p> + “Because you loved her more than your cousin.” + </p> + <p> + He stared at me with strange, round, bewildered eyes and stammered: + </p> + <p> + “I loved her—I? How? Who told you that?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, anyone can see that—and it's even on account of her that + you delayed for so long your marriage to your cousin who had been waiting + for you for six years.” + </p> + <p> + He dropped the ball which he was holding in his left hand, and, seizing + the chalk rag in both hands, he buried his face in it and began to sob. He + was weeping with his eyes, nose and mouth in a heartbreaking yet + ridiculous manner, like a sponge which one squeezes. He was coughing, + spitting and blowing his nose in the chalk rag, wiping his eyes and + sneezing; then the tears would again begin to flow down the wrinkles on + his face and he would make a strange gurgling noise in his throat. I felt + bewildered, ashamed; I wanted to run away, and I no longer knew what to + say, do, or attempt. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly Madame Chantal's voice sounded on the stairs. “Haven't you + men almost finished smoking your cigars?” + </p> + <p> + I opened the door and cried: “Yes, madame, we are coming right down.” + </p> + <p> + Then I rushed to her husband, and, seizing him by the shoulders, I cried: + “Monsieur Chantal, my friend Chantal, listen to me; your wife is + calling; pull yourself together, we must go downstairs.” + </p> + <p> + He stammered: “Yes—yes—I am coming—poor girl! I am + coming—tell her that I am coming.” + </p> + <p> + He began conscientiously to wipe his face on the cloth which, for the last + two or three years, had been used for marking off the chalk from the + slate; then he appeared, half white and half red, his forehead, nose, + cheeks and chin covered with chalk, and his eyes swollen, still full of + tears. + </p> + <p> + I caught him by the hands and dragged him into his bedroom, muttering: + “I beg your pardon, I beg your pardon, Monsieur Chantal, for having + caused you such sorrow—but—I did not know—you—you + understand.” + </p> + <p> + He squeezed my hand, saying: “Yes—yes—there are + difficult moments.” + </p> + <p> + Then he plunged his face into a bowl of water. When he emerged from it he + did not yet seem to me to be presentable; but I thought of a little + stratagem. As he was growing worried, looking at himself in the mirror, I + said to him: “All you have to do is to say that a little dust flew + into your eye and you can cry before everybody to your heart's content.” + </p> + <p> + He went downstairs rubbing his eyes with his handkerchief. All were + worried; each one wished to look for the speck, which could not be found; + and stories were told of similar cases where it had been necessary to call + in a physician. + </p> + <p> + I went over to Mademoiselle Pearl and watched her, tormented by an ardent + curiosity, which was turning to positive suffering. She must indeed have + been pretty, with her gentle, calm eyes, so large that it looked as though + she never closed them like other mortals. Her gown was a little + ridiculous, a real old maid's gown, which was unbecoming without appearing + clumsy. + </p> + <p> + It seemed to me as though I were looking into her soul, just as I had into + Monsieur Chantal's; that I was looking right from one end to the other of + this humble life, so simple and devoted. I felt an irresistible longing to + question her, to find out whether she, too, had loved him; whether she + also had suffered, as he had, from this long, secret, poignant grief, + which one cannot see, know, or guess, but which breaks forth at night in + the loneliness of the dark room. I was watching her, and I could observe + her heart beating under her waist, and I wondered whether this sweet, + candid face had wept on the soft pillow and she had sobbed, her whole body + shaken by the violence of her anguish. + </p> + <p> + I said to her in a low voice, like a child who is breaking a toy to see + what is inside: “If you could have seen Monsieur Chantal crying a + while ago it would have moved you.” + </p> + <p> + She started, asking: “What? He was weeping?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, yes, he was indeed weeping!” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” + </p> + <p> + She seemed deeply moved. I answered: + </p> + <p> + “On your account.” + </p> + <p> + “On my account?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. He was telling me how much he had loved you in the days gone + by; and what a pang it had given him to marry his cousin instead of you.” + </p> + <p> + Her pale face seemed to grow a little longer; her calm eyes, which always + remained open, suddenly closed so quickly that they seemed shut forever. + She slipped from her chair to the floor, and slowly, gently sank down as + would a fallen garment. + </p> + <p> + I cried: “Help! help! Mademoiselle Pearl is ill.” + </p> + <p> + Madame Chantal and her daughters rushed forward, and while they were + looking for towels, water and vinegar, I grabbed my hat and ran away. + </p> + <p> + I walked away with rapid strides, my heart heavy, my mind full of remorse + and regret. And yet sometimes I felt pleased; I felt as though I had done + a praiseworthy and necessary act. I was asking myself: “Did I do + wrong or right?” They had that shut up in their hearts, just as some + people carry a bullet in a closed wound. Will they not be happier now? It + was too late for their torture to begin over again and early enough for + them to remember it with tenderness. + </p> + <p> + And perhaps some evening next spring, moved by a beam of moonlight falling + through the branches on the grass at their feet, they will join and press + their hands in memory of all this cruel and suppressed suffering; and, + perhaps, also this short embrace may infuse in their veins a little of + this thrill which they would not have known without it, and will give to + those two dead souls, brought to life in a second, the rapid and divine + sensation of this intoxication, of this madness which gives to lovers more + happiness in an instant than other men can gather during a whole lifetime! + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0069"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + THE THIEF + </h2> + <p> + While apparently thinking of something else, Dr. Sorbier had been + listening quietly to those amazing accounts of burglaries and daring deeds + that might have been taken from the trial of Cartouche. “Assuredly,” + he exclaimed, “assuredly, I know of no viler fault nor any meaner + action than to attack a girl's innocence, to corrupt her, to profit by a + moment of unconscious weakness and of madness, when her heart is beating + like that of a frightened fawn, and her pure lips seek those of her + tempter; when she abandons herself without thinking of the irremediable + stain, nor of her fall, nor of the morrow. + </p> + <p> + “The man who has brought this about slowly, viciously, who can tell + with what science of evil, and who, in such a case, has not steadiness and + self-restraint enough to quench that flame by some icy words, who has not + sense enough for two, who cannot recover his self-possession and master + the runaway brute within him, and who loses his head on the edge of the + precipice over which she is going to fall, is as contemptible as any man + who breaks open a lock, or as any rascal on the lookout for a house left + defenceless and unprotected or for some easy and dishonest stroke of + business, or as that thief whose various exploits you have just related to + us. + </p> + <p> + “I, for my part, utterly refuse to absolve him, even when + extenuating circumstances plead in his favor, even when he is carrying on + a dangerous flirtation, in which a man tries in vain to keep his balance, + not to exceed the limits of the game, any more than at lawn tennis; even + when the parts are inverted and a man's adversary is some precocious, + curious, seductive girl, who shows you immediately that she has nothing to + learn and nothing to experience, except the last chapter of love, one of + those girls from whom may fate always preserve our sons, and whom a + psychological novel writer has christened 'The Semi-Virgins.' + </p> + <p> + “It is, of course, difficult and painful for that coarse and + unfathomable vanity which is characteristic of every man, and which might + be called 'malism', not to stir such a charming fire, difficult to act the + Joseph and the fool, to turn away his eyes, and, as it were, to put wax + into his ears, like the companions of Ulysses when they were attracted by + the divine, seductive songs of the Sirens, difficult only to touch that + pretty table covered with a perfectly new cloth, at which you are invited + to take a seat before any one else, in such a suggestive voice, and are + requested to quench your thirst and to taste that new wine, whose fresh + and strange flavor you will never forget. But who would hesitate to + exercise such self-restraint if, when he rapidly examines his conscience, + in one of those instinctive returns to his sober self in which a man + thinks clearly and recovers his head, he were to measure the gravity of + his fault, consider it, think of its consequences, of the reprisals, of + the uneasiness which he would always feel in the future, and which would + destroy the repose and happiness of his life? + </p> + <p> + “You may guess that behind all these moral reflections, such as a + graybeard like myself may indulge in, there is a story hidden, and, sad as + it is, I am sure it will interest you on account of the strange heroism it + shows.” + </p> + <p> + He was silent for a few moments, as if to classify his recollections, and, + with his elbows resting on the arms of his easy-chair and his eyes looking + into space, he continued in the slow voice of a hospital professor who is + explaining a case to his class of medical students, at a bedside: + </p> + <p> + “He was one of those men who, as our grandfathers used to say, never + met with a cruel woman, the type of the adventurous knight who was always + foraging, who had something of the scamp about him, but who despised + danger and was bold even to rashness. He was ardent in the pursuit of + pleasure, and had an irresistible charm about him, one of those men in + whom we excuse the greatest excesses as the most natural things in the + world. He had run through all his money at gambling and with pretty girls, + and so became, as it were, a soldier of fortune. He amused himself + whenever and however he could, and was at that time quartered at + Versailles. + </p> + <p> + “I knew him to the very depths of his childlike heart, which was + only too easily seen through and sounded, and I loved him as some old + bachelor uncle loves a nephew who plays him tricks, but who knows how to + coax him. He had made me his confidant rather than his adviser, kept me + informed of his slightest pranks, though he always pretended to be + speaking about one of his friends, and not about himself; and I must + confess that his youthful impetuosity, his careless gaiety, and his + amorous ardor sometimes distracted my thoughts and made me envy the + handsome, vigorous young fellow who was so happy at being alive, that I + had not the courage to check him, to show him the right road, and to call + out to him: 'Take care!' as children do at blind man's buff. + </p> + <p> + “And one day, after one of those interminable cotillons, where the + couples do not leave each other for hours, and can disappear together + without anybody thinking of noticing them, the poor fellow at last + discovered what love was, that real love which takes up its abode in the + very centre of the heart and in the brain, and is proud of being there, + and which rules like a sovereign and a tyrannous master, and he became + desperately enamored of a pretty but badly brought up girl, who was as + disquieting and wayward as she was pretty. + </p> + <p> + “She loved him, however, or rather she idolized him despotically, + madly, with all her enraptured soul and all her being. Left to do as she + pleased by imprudent and frivolous parents, suffering from neurosis, in + consequence of the unwholesome friendships which she contracted at the + convent school, instructed by what she saw and heard and knew was going on + around her, in spite of her deceitful and artificial conduct, knowing that + neither her father nor her mother, who were very proud of their race as + well as avaricious, would ever agree to let her marry the man whom she had + taken a liking to, that handsome fellow who had little besides vision, + ideas and debts, and who belonged to the middle-class, she laid aside all + scruples, thought of nothing but of becoming his, no matter what might be + the cost. + </p> + <p> + “By degrees, the unfortunate man's strength gave way, his heart + softened, and he allowed himself to be carried away by that current which + buffeted him, surrounded him, and left him on the shore like a waif and a + stray. + </p> + <p> + “They wrote letters full of madness to each other, and not a day + passed without their meeting, either accidentally, as it seemed, or at + parties and balls. She had yielded her lips to him in long, ardent + caresses, which had sealed their compact of mutual passion.” + </p> + <p> + The doctor stopped, and his eyes suddenly filled with tears, as these + former troubles came back to his mind; and then, in a hoarse voice, he + went on, full of the horror of what he was going to relate: + </p> + <p> + “For months he scaled the garden wall, and, holding his breath and + listening for the slightest noise, like a burglar who is going to break + into a house, he went in by the servants' entrance, which she had left + open, slunk barefoot down a long passage and up the broad staircase, which + creaked occasionally, to the second story, where his sweetheart's room + was, and stayed there for hours. + </p> + <p> + “One night, when it was darker than usual, and he was hurrying lest + he should be later than the time agreed on, he knocked up against a piece + of furniture in the anteroom and upset it. It so happened that the girl's + mother had not gone to sleep, either because she had a sick headache, or + else because she had sat up late over some novel, and, frightened at that + unusual noise which disturbed the silence of the house, she jumped out of + bed, opened the door, saw some one indistinctly running away and keeping + close to the wall, and, immediately thinking that there were burglars in + the house, she aroused her husband and the servants by her frantic + screams. The unfortunate man understood the situation; and, seeing what a + terrible fix he was in, and preferring to be taken for a common thief to + dishonoring his adored one's name, he ran into the drawing-room, felt on + the tables and what-nots, filled his pockets at random with valuable + bric-a-brac, and then cowered down behind the grand piano, which barred + the corner of a large room. + </p> + <p> + “The servants, who had run in with lighted candles, found him, and, + overwhelming him with abuse, seized him by the collar and dragged him, + panting and apparently half dead with shame and terror, to the nearest + police station. He defended himself with intentional awkwardness when he + was brought up for trial, kept up his part with the most perfect + self-possession and without any signs of the despair and anguish that he + felt in his heart, and, condemned and degraded and made to suffer + martyrdom in his honor as a man and a soldier—he was an officer—he + did not protest, but went to prison as one of those criminals whom society + gets rid of like noxious vermin. + </p> + <p> + “He died there of misery and of bitterness of spirit, with the name + of the fair-haired idol, for whom he had sacrificed himself, on his lips, + as if it had been an ecstatic prayer, and he intrusted his will 'to the + priest who administered extreme unction to him, and requested him to give + it to me. In it, without mentioning anybody, and without in the least + lifting the veil, he at last explained the enigma, and cleared himself of + those accusations the terrible burden of which he had borne until his last + breath. + </p> + <p> + “I have always thought myself, though I do not know why, that the + girl married and had several charming children, whom she brought up with + the austere strictness and in the serious piety of former days!” + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0070"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + CLAIR DE LUNE + </h2> + <p> + Abbe Marignan's martial name suited him well. He was a tall, thin priest, + fanatic, excitable, yet upright. All his beliefs were fixed, never + varying. He believed sincerely that he knew his God, understood His plans, + desires and intentions. + </p> + <p> + When he walked with long strides along the garden walk of his little + country parsonage, he would sometimes ask himself the question: “Why + has God done this?” And he would dwell on this continually, putting + himself in the place of God, and he almost invariably found an answer. He + would never have cried out in an outburst of pious humility: “Thy + ways, O Lord, are past finding out.” + </p> + <p> + He said to himself: “I am the servant of God; it is right for me to + know the reason of His deeds, or to guess it if I do not know it.” + </p> + <p> + Everything in nature seemed to him to have been created in accordance with + an admirable and absolute logic. The “whys” and “becauses” + always balanced. Dawn was given to make our awakening pleasant, the days + to ripen the harvest, the rains to moisten it, the evenings for + preparation for slumber, and the dark nights for sleep. + </p> + <p> + The four seasons corresponded perfectly to the needs of agriculture, and + no suspicion had ever come to the priest of the fact that nature has no + intentions; that, on the contrary, everything which exists must conform to + the hard demands of seasons, climates and matter. + </p> + <p> + But he hated woman—hated her unconsciously, and despised her by + instinct. He often repeated the words of Christ: “Woman, what have I + to do with thee?” and he would add: “It seems as though God, + Himself, were dissatisfied with this work of His.” She was the + tempter who led the first man astray, and who since then had ever been + busy with her work of damnation, the feeble creature, dangerous and + mysteriously affecting one. And even more than their sinful bodies, he + hated their loving hearts. + </p> + <p> + He had often felt their tenderness directed toward himself, and though he + knew that he was invulnerable, he grew angry at this need of love that is + always vibrating in them. + </p> + <p> + According to his belief, God had created woman for the sole purpose of + tempting and testing man. One must not approach her without defensive + precautions and fear of possible snares. She was, indeed, just like a + snare, with her lips open and her arms stretched out to man. + </p> + <p> + He had no indulgence except for nuns, whom their vows had rendered + inoffensive; but he was stern with them, nevertheless, because he felt + that at the bottom of their fettered and humble hearts the everlasting + tenderness was burning brightly—that tenderness which was shown even + to him, a priest. + </p> + <p> + He felt this cursed tenderness, even in their docility, in the low tones + of their voices when speaking to him, in their lowered eyes, and in their + resigned tears when he reproved them roughly. And he would shake his + cassock on leaving the convent doors, and walk off, lengthening his stride + as though flying from danger. + </p> + <p> + He had a niece who lived with her mother in a little house near him. He + was bent upon making a sister of charity of her. + </p> + <p> + She was a pretty, brainless madcap. When the abbe preached she laughed, + and when he was angry with her she would give him a hug, drawing him to + her heart, while he sought unconsciously to release himself from this + embrace which nevertheless filled him with a sweet pleasure, awakening in + his depths the sensation of paternity which slumbers in every man. + </p> + <p> + Often, when walking by her side, along the country road, he would speak to + her of God, of his God. She never listened to him, but looked about her at + the sky, the grass and flowers, and one could see the joy of life + sparkling in her eyes. Sometimes she would dart forward to catch some + flying creature, crying out as she brought it back: “Look, uncle, + how pretty it is! I want to hug it!” And this desire to “hug” + flies or lilac blossoms disquieted, angered, and roused the priest, who + saw, even in this, the ineradicable tenderness that is always budding in + women's hearts. + </p> + <p> + Then there came a day when the sexton's wife, who kept house for Abbe + Marignan, told him, with caution, that his niece had a lover. + </p> + <p> + Almost suffocated by the fearful emotion this news roused in him, he stood + there, his face covered with soap, for he was in the act of shaving. + </p> + <p> + When he had sufficiently recovered to think and speak he cried: “It + is not true; you lie, Melanie!” + </p> + <p> + But the peasant woman put her hand on her heart, saying: “May our + Lord judge me if I lie, Monsieur le Cure! I tell you, she goes there every + night when your sister has gone to bed. They meet by the river side; you + have only to go there and see, between ten o'clock and midnight.” + </p> + <p> + He ceased scraping his chin, and began to walk up and down impetuously, as + he always did when he was in deep thought. When he began shaving again he + cut himself three times from his nose to his ear. + </p> + <p> + All day long he was silent, full of anger and indignation. To his priestly + hatred of this invincible love was added the exasperation of her spiritual + father, of her guardian and pastor, deceived and tricked by a child, and + the selfish emotion shown by parents when their daughter announces that + she has chosen a husband without them, and in spite of them. + </p> + <p> + After dinner he tried to read a little, but could not, growing more and, + more angry. When ten o'clock struck he seized his cane, a formidable oak + stick, which he was accustomed to carry in his nocturnal walks when + visiting the sick. And he smiled at the enormous club which he twirled in + a threatening manner in his strong, country fist. Then he raised it + suddenly and, gritting his teeth, brought it down on a chair, the broken + back of which fell over on the floor. + </p> + <p> + He opened the door to go out, but stopped on the sill, surprised by the + splendid moonlight, of such brilliance as is seldom seen. + </p> + <p> + And, as he was gifted with an emotional nature, one such as had all those + poetic dreamers, the Fathers of the Church, he felt suddenly distracted + and moved by all the grand and serene beauty of this pale night. + </p> + <p> + In his little garden, all bathed in soft light, his fruit trees in a row + cast on the ground the shadow of their slender branches, scarcely in full + leaf, while the giant honeysuckle, clinging to the wall of his house, + exhaled a delicious sweetness, filling the warm moonlit atmosphere with a + kind of perfumed soul. + </p> + <p> + He began to take long breaths, drinking in the air as drunkards drink + wine, and he walked along slowly, delighted, marveling, almost forgetting + his niece. + </p> + <p> + As soon as he was outside of the garden, he stopped to gaze upon the plain + all flooded with the caressing light, bathed in that tender, languishing + charm of serene nights. At each moment was heard the short, metallic note + of the cricket, and distant nightingales shook out their scattered notes—their + light, vibrant music that sets one dreaming, without thinking, a music + made for kisses, for the seduction of moonlight. + </p> + <p> + The abbe walked on again, his heart failing, though he knew not why. He + seemed weakened, suddenly exhausted; he wanted to sit down, to rest there, + to think, to admire God in His works. + </p> + <p> + Down yonder, following the undulations of the little river, a great line + of poplars wound in and out. A fine mist, a white haze through which the + moonbeams passed, silvering it and making it gleam, hung around and above + the mountains, covering all the tortuous course of the water with a kind + of light and transparent cotton. + </p> + <p> + The priest stopped once again, his soul filled with a growing and + irresistible tenderness. + </p> + <p> + And a doubt, a vague feeling of disquiet came over him; he was asking one + of those questions that he sometimes put to himself. + </p> + <p> + “Why did God make this? Since the night is destined for sleep, + unconsciousness, repose, forgetfulness of everything, why make it more + charming than day, softer than dawn or evening? And why does this + seductive planet, more poetic than the sun, that seems destined, so + discreet is it, to illuminate things too delicate and mysterious for the + light of day, make the darkness so transparent? + </p> + <p> + “Why does not the greatest of feathered songsters sleep like the + others? Why does it pour forth its voice in the mysterious night? + </p> + <p> + “Why this half-veil cast over the world? Why these tremblings of the + heart, this emotion of the spirit, this enervation of the body? Why this + display of enchantments that human beings do not see, since they are lying + in their beds? For whom is destined this sublime spectacle, this abundance + of poetry cast from heaven to earth?” + </p> + <p> + And the abbe could not understand. + </p> + <p> + But see, out there, on the edge of the meadow, under the arch of trees + bathed in a shining mist, two figures are walking side by side. + </p> + <p> + The man was the taller, and held his arm about his sweetheart's neck and + kissed her brow every little while. They imparted life, all at once, to + the placid landscape in which they were framed as by a heavenly hand. The + two seemed but a single being, the being for whom was destined this calm + and silent night, and they came toward the priest as a living answer, the + response his Master sent to his questionings. + </p> + <p> + He stood still, his heart beating, all upset; and it seemed to him that he + saw before him some biblical scene, like the loves of Ruth and Boaz, the + accomplishment of the will of the Lord, in some of those glorious stories + of which the sacred books tell. The verses of the Song of Songs began to + ring in his ears, the appeal of passion, all the poetry of this poem + replete with tenderness. + </p> + <p> + And he said unto himself: “Perhaps God has made such nights as these + to idealize the love of men.” + </p> + <p> + He shrank back from this couple that still advanced with arms intertwined. + Yet it was his niece. But he asked himself now if he would not be + disobeying God. And does not God permit love, since He surrounds it with + such visible splendor? + </p> + <p> + And he went back musing, almost ashamed, as if he had intruded into a + temple where he had, no right to enter. + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0071"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + WAITER, A “BOCK” + </h2> + <p> + Why did I go into that beer hall on that particular evening? I do not + know. It was cold; a fine rain, a flying mist, veiled the gas lamps with a + transparent fog, made the side walks reflect the light that streamed from + the shop windows—lighting up the soft slush and the muddy feet of + the passers-by. + </p> + <p> + I was going nowhere in particular; was simply having a short walk after + dinner. I had passed the Credit Lyonnais, the Rue Vivienne, and several + other streets. I suddenly descried a large beer hall which was more than + half full. I walked inside, with no object in view. I was not the least + thirsty. + </p> + <p> + I glanced round to find a place that was not too crowded, and went and sat + down by the side of a man who seemed to me to be old, and who was smoking + a two-sous clay pipe, which was as black as coal. From six to eight + glasses piled up on the table in front of him indicated the number of + “bocks” he had already absorbed. At a glance I recognized a + “regular,” one of those frequenters of beer houses who come in + the morning when the place opens, and do not leave till evening when it is + about to close. He was dirty, bald on top of his head, with a fringe of + iron-gray hair falling on the collar of his frock coat. His clothes, much + too large for him, appeared to have been made for him at a time when he + was corpulent. One could guess that he did not wear suspenders, for he + could not take ten steps without having to stop to pull up his trousers. + Did he wear a vest? The mere thought of his boots and of that which they + covered filled me with horror. The frayed cuffs were perfectly black at + the edges, as were his nails. + </p> + <p> + As soon as I had seated myself beside him, this individual said to me in a + quiet tone of voice: + </p> + <p> + “How goes it?” + </p> + <p> + I turned sharply round and closely scanned his features, whereupon he + continued: + </p> + <p> + “I see you do not recognize me.” + </p> + <p> + “No, I do not.” + </p> + <p> + “Des Barrets.” + </p> + <p> + I was stupefied. It was Count Jean des Barrets, my old college chum. + </p> + <p> + I seized him by the hand, and was so dumbfounded that I could find nothing + to say. At length I managed to stammer out: + </p> + <p> + “And you, how goes it with you?” + </p> + <p> + He responded placidly: + </p> + <p> + “I get along as I can.” + </p> + <p> + “What are you doing now?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “You see what I am doing,” he answered quit resignedly. + </p> + <p> + I felt my face getting red. I insisted: + </p> + <p> + “But every day?” + </p> + <p> + “Every day it is the same thing,” was his reply, accompanied + with a thick puff of tobacco smoke. + </p> + <p> + He then tapped with a sou on the top of the marble table, to attract the + attention of the waiter, and called out: + </p> + <p> + “Waiter, two 'bocks.'” + </p> + <p> + A voice in the distance repeated: + </p> + <p> + “Two bocks for the fourth table.” + </p> + <p> + Another voice, more distant still, shouted out: + </p> + <p> + “Here they are!” + </p> + <p> + Immediately a man with a white apron appeared, carrying two “bocks,” + which he set down, foaming, on the table, spilling some of the yellow + liquid on the sandy floor in his haste. + </p> + <p> + Des Barrets emptied his glass at a single draught and replaced it on the + table, while he sucked in the foam that had been left on his mustache. He + next asked: + </p> + <p> + “What is there new?” + </p> + <p> + I really had nothing new to tell him. I stammered: + </p> + <p> + “Nothing, old man. I am a business man.” + </p> + <p> + In his monotonous tone of voice he said: + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, does it amuse you?” + </p> + <p> + “No, but what can I do? One must do something!” + </p> + <p> + “Why should one?” + </p> + <p> + “So as to have occupation.” + </p> + <p> + “What's the use of an occupation? For my part, I do nothing at all, + as you see, never anything. When one has not a sou I can understand why + one should work. But when one has enough to live on, what's the use? What + is the good of working? Do you work for yourself, or for others? If you + work for yourself, you do it for your own amusement, which is all right; + if you work for others, you are a fool.” + </p> + <p> + Then, laying his pipe on the marble table, he called out anew: + </p> + <p> + “Waiter, a 'bock.'” And continued: “It makes me thirsty + to keep calling so. I am not accustomed to that sort of thing. Yes, yes, I + do nothing. I let things slide, and I am growing old. In dying I shall + have nothing to regret. My only remembrance will be this beer hall. No + wife, no children, no cares, no sorrows, nothing. That is best.” + </p> + <p> + He then emptied the glass which had been brought him, passed his tongue + over his lips, and resumed his pipe. + </p> + <p> + I looked at him in astonishment, and said: + </p> + <p> + “But you have not always been like that?” + </p> + <p> + “Pardon me; ever since I left college.” + </p> + <p> + “That is not a proper life to lead, my dear fellow; it is simply + horrible. Come, you must have something to do, you must love something, + you must have friends.” + </p> + <p> + “No, I get up at noon, I come here, I have my breakfast, I drink my + beer, I remain until the evening, I have my dinner, I drink beer. Then + about half-past one in the morning, I go home to bed, because the place + closes up; that annoys me more than anything. In the last ten years I have + passed fully six years on this bench, in my corner; and the other four in + my bed, nowhere else. I sometimes chat with the regular customers.” + </p> + <p> + “But when you came to Paris what did you do at first?” + </p> + <p> + “I paid my devoirs to the Cafe de Medicis.” + </p> + <p> + “What next?” + </p> + <p> + “Next I crossed the water and came here.” + </p> + <p> + “Why did you take that trouble?” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean? One cannot remain all one's life in the Latin + Quarter. The students make too much noise. Now I shall not move again. + Waiter, a 'bock.'” + </p> + <p> + I began to think that he was making fun of me, and I continued: + </p> + <p> + “Come now, be frank. You have been the victim of some great sorrow; + some disappointment in love, no doubt! It is easy to see that you are a + man who has had some trouble. What age are you?” + </p> + <p> + “I am thirty, but I look forty-five, at least.” + </p> + <p> + I looked him straight in the face. His wrinkled, ill-shaven face gave one + the impression that he was an old man. On the top of his head a few long + hairs waved over a skin of doubtful cleanliness. He had enormous + eyelashes, a heavy mustache, and a thick beard. Suddenly I had a kind of + vision, I know not why, of a basin filled with dirty water in which all + that hair had been washed. I said to him: + </p> + <p> + “You certainly look older than your age. You surely must have + experienced some great sorrow.” + </p> + <p> + He replied: + </p> + <p> + “I tell you that I have not. I am old because I never go out into + the air. Nothing makes a man deteriorate more than the life of a cafe.” + </p> + <p> + I still could not believe him. + </p> + <p> + “You must surely also have been married? One could not get as + bald-headed as you are without having been in love.” + </p> + <p> + He shook his head, shaking dandruff down on his coat as he did so. + </p> + <p> + “No, I have always been virtuous.” + </p> + <p> + And, raising his eyes toward the chandelier which heated our heads, he + said: + </p> + <p> + “If I am bald, it is the fault of the gas. It destroys the hair. + Waiter, a 'bock.' Are you not thirsty?” + </p> + <p> + “No, thank you. But you really interest me. Since when have you been + so morbid? Your life is not normal, it is not natural. There is something + beneath it all.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and it dates from my infancy. I received a great shock when I + was very young, and that turned my life into darkness which will last to + the end.” + </p> + <p> + “What was it?” + </p> + <p> + “You wish to know about it? Well, then, listen. You recall, of + course, the castle in which I was brought up, for you used to spend five + or six months there during vacation. You remember that large gray + building, in the middle of a great park, and the long avenues of oaks + which opened to the four points of the compass. You remember my father and + mother, both of whom were ceremonious, solemn, and severe. + </p> + <p> + “I worshipped my mother; I was afraid of my father; but I respected + both, accustomed always as I was to see every one bow before them. They + were Monsieur le Comte and Madame la Comtesse to all the country round, + and our neighbors, the Tannemares, the Ravelets, the Brennevilles, showed + them the utmost consideration. + </p> + <p> + “I was then thirteen years old. I was happy, pleased with + everything, as one is at that age, full of the joy of life. + </p> + <p> + “Well, toward the end of September, a few days before returning to + college, as I was playing about in the shrubbery of the park, among the + branches and leaves, as I was crossing a path, I saw my father and mother, + who were walking along. + </p> + <p> + “I recall it as though it were yesterday. It was a very windy day. + The whole line of trees swayed beneath the gusts of wind, groaning, and + seeming to utter cries-those dull, deep cries that forests give out during + a tempest. + </p> + <p> + “The falling leaves, turning yellow, flew away like birds, circling + and falling, and then running along the path like swift animals. + </p> + <p> + “Evening came on. It was dark in the thickets. The motion of the + wind and of the branches excited me, made me tear about as if I were + crazy, and howl in imitation of the wolves. + </p> + <p> + “As soon as I perceived my parents, I crept furtively toward them, + under the branches, in order to surprise them, as though I had been a + veritable prowler. But I stopped in fear a few paces from them. My father, + who was in a terrible passion, cried: + </p> + <p> + “'Your mother is a fool; moreover, it is not a question of your + mother. It is you. I tell you that I need this money, and I want you to + sign this.' + </p> + <p> + “My mother replied in a firm voice: + </p> + <p> + “'I will not sign it. It is Jean's fortune. I shall guard it for him + and I will not allow you to squander it with strange women, as you have + your own heritage.' + </p> + <p> + “Then my father, trembling with rage, wheeled round and, seizing his + wife by the throat, began to slap her with all his might full in the face + with his disengaged hand. + </p> + <p> + “My mother's hat fell off, her hair became loosened and fell over + her shoulders; she tried to parry the blows, but she could not do so. And + my father, like a madman, kept on striking her. My mother rolled over on + the ground, covering her face with her hands. Then he turned her over on + her back in order to slap her still more, pulling away her hands, which + were covering her face. + </p> + <p> + “As for me, my friend, it seemed as though the world was coming to + an end, that the eternal laws had changed. I experienced the overwhelming + dread that one has in presence of things supernatural, in presence of + irreparable disasters. My childish mind was bewildered, distracted. I + began to cry with all my might, without knowing why; a prey to a fearful + dread, sorrow, and astonishment. My father heard me, turned round, and, on + seeing me, started toward me. I believe that he wanted to kill me, and I + fled like a hunted animal, running straight ahead into the thicket. + </p> + <p> + “I ran perhaps for an hour, perhaps for two. I know not. Darkness + set in. I sank on the grass, exhausted, and lay there dismayed, frantic + with fear, and devoured by a sorrow capable of breaking forever the heart + of a poor child. I was cold, hungry, perhaps. At length day broke. I was + afraid to get up, to walk, to return home, to run farther, fearing to + encounter my father, whom I did not wish to see again. + </p> + <p> + “I should probably have died of misery and of hunger at the foot of + a tree if the park guard had not discovered me and led me home by force. + </p> + <p> + “I found my parents looking as usual. My mother alone spoke to me + “'How you frightened me, you naughty boy. I lay awake the whole + night.' + </p> + <p> + “I did not answer, but began to weep. My father did not utter a + single word. + </p> + <p> + “Eight days later I returned to school. + </p> + <p> + “Well, my friend, it was all over with me. I had witnessed the other + side of things, the bad side. I have not been able to perceive the good + side since that day. What has taken place in my mind, what strange + phenomenon has warped my ideas, I do not know. But I no longer had a taste + for anything, a wish for anything, a love for anybody, a desire for + anything whatever, any ambition, or any hope. And I always see my poor + mother on the ground, in the park, my father beating her. My mother died + some years later; my, father still lives. I have not seen him since. + Waiter, a 'bock.'” + </p> + <p> + A waiter brought him his “bock,” which he swallowed at a gulp. + But, in taking up his pipe again, trembling as he was, he broke it. + “Confound it!” he said, with a gesture of annoyance. “That + is a real sorrow. It will take me a month to color another!” + </p> + <p> + And he called out across the vast hall, now reeking with smoke and full of + men drinking, his everlasting: “Garcon, un 'bock'—and a new + pipe.” + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0072"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + AFTER + </h2> + <div class='ph3'> + “My darlings,” said the comtesse, “you might go to bed.” + </div> + <p> + The three children, two girls and a boy, rose and kissed their + grandmother. Then they said good-night to M. le Cure, who had dined at the + chateau, as was his custom every Thursday. + </p> + <p> + The Abbe Mauduit lifted two of the children on his knees, passing his long + arms clad in black round their necks, and kissing them tenderly on the + forehead as he drew their heads toward him as a father might. + </p> + <p> + Then he set them down on the ground, and the little beings went off, the + boy ahead, and the girls following. + </p> + <p> + “You are fond of children, M. le Cure,” said the comtesse. + </p> + <p> + “Very fond, madame.” + </p> + <p> + The old woman raised her bright eyes toward the priest. + </p> + <p> + “And—has your solitude never weighed too heavily on you?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sometimes.” + </p> + <p> + He became silent, hesitated, and then added: “But I was never made + for ordinary life.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you know about it?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! I know very well. I was made to be a priest; I followed my + vocation.” + </p> + <p> + The comtesse kept staring at him: + </p> + <p> + “Come now, M. le Cure, tell me this—tell me how it was you + resolved to renounce forever all that makes the rest of us love life—all + that consoles and sustains us? What is it that drove you, impelled you, to + separate yourself from the great natural path of marriage and the family? + You are neither an enthusiast nor a fanatic, neither a gloomy person nor a + sad person. Was it some incident, some sorrow, that led you to take life + vows?” + </p> + <p> + The Abbe Mauduit rose and approached the fire, then, holding toward the + flame his big shoes, such as country priests generally wear, he seemed + still hesitating as to what reply he should make. + </p> + <p> + He was a tall old man with white hair, and for the last twenty years had + been pastor of the parish of Saint-Antoine-du-Rocher. The peasants said of + him: “There's a good man for you!” And indeed he was a good + man, benevolent, friendly to all, gentle, and, to crown all, generous. + Like Saint Martin, he would have cut his cloak in two. He laughed readily, + and wept also, on slight provocation, just like a woman—which + prejudiced him more or less in the hard minds of the country folk. + </p> + <p> + The old Comtesse de Saville, living in retirement in her chateau of + Rocher, in order to bring up her grandchildren, after the successive + deaths of her son and her daughter-in-law, was very much attached to her + cure, and used to say of him: “What a heart he has!” + </p> + <p> + He came every Thursday to spend the evening with the comtesse, and they + were close friends, with the frank and honest friendship of old people. + </p> + <p> + She persisted: + </p> + <p> + “Look here, M. le Cure! it is your turn now to make a confession!” + </p> + <p> + He repeated: “I was not made for ordinary life. I saw it fortunately + in time, and I have had many proofs since that I made no mistake on the + point: + </p> + <p> + “My parents, who were mercers in Verdiers, and were quite well to + do, had great ambitions for me. They sent me to a boarding school while I + was very young. No one knows what a boy may suffer at school through the + mere fact of separation, of isolation. This monotonous life without + affection is good for some, and detestable for others. Young people are + often more sensitive than one supposes, and by shutting them up thus too + soon, far from those they love, we may develop to an exaggerated extent a + sensitiveness which is overwrought and may become sickly and dangerous. + </p> + <p> + “I scarcely ever played; I had no companions; I passed my hours in + homesickness; I spent the whole night weeping in my bed. I sought to bring + before my mind recollections of home, trifling memories of little things, + little events. I thought incessantly of all I had left behind there. I + became almost imperceptibly an over-sensitive youth to whom the slightest + annoyances were terrible griefs. + </p> + <p> + “In this way I remained taciturn, self-absorbed, without expansion, + without confidants. This mental excitement was going on secretly and + surely. The nerves of children are quickly affected, and one should see to + it that they live a tranquil life until they are almost fully developed. + But who ever reflects that, for certain boys, an unjust imposition may be + as great a pang as the death of a friend in later years? Who can explain + why certain young temperaments are liable to terrible emotions for the + slightest cause, and may eventually become morbid and incurable? + </p> + <p> + “This was my case. This faculty of regret developed in me to such an + extent that my existence became a martyrdom. + </p> + <p> + “I did not speak about it; I said nothing about it; but gradually I + became so sensitive that my soul resembled an open wound. Everything that + affected me gave me painful twitchings, frightful shocks, and consequently + impaired my health. Happy are the men whom nature has buttressed with + indifference and armed with stoicism. + </p> + <p> + “I reached my sixteenth year. An excessive timidity had arisen from + this abnormal sensitiveness. Feeling myself unprotected from all the + attacks of chance or fate, I feared every contact, every approach, every + current. I lived as though I were threatened by an unknown and always + expected misfortune. I did not venture either to speak or do anything in + public. I had, indeed, the feeling that life, is a battle, a dreadful + conflict in which one receives terrible blows, grievous, mortal wounds. In + place of cherishing, like all men, a cheerful anticipation of the morrow, + I had only a confused fear of it, and felt in my own mind a desire to + conceal myself to avoid that combat in which I would be vanquished and + slain. + </p> + <p> + “As soon as my studies were finished, they gave me six months' time + to choose a career. A very simple occurrence showed me clearly, all of a + sudden, the diseased condition of my mind, made me understand the danger, + and determined me to flee from it. + </p> + <p> + “Verdiers is a little town surrounded with plains and woods. In the + central street stands my parents' house. I now passed my days far from + this dwelling which I had so much regretted, so much desired. Dreams had + reawakened in me, and I walked alone in the fields in order to let them + escape and fly away. My father and mother, quite occupied with business, + and anxious about my future, talked to me only about their profits or + about my possible plans. They were fond of me after the manner of + hardheaded, practical people; they had more reason than heart in their + affection for me. I lived imprisoned in my thoughts, and vibrating with my + eternal sensitiveness. + </p> + <p> + “Now, one evening, after a long walk, as I was making my way home + with great strides so as not to be late, I saw a dog trotting toward me. + He was a species of red spaniel, very lean, with long curly ears. + </p> + <p> + “When he was ten paces away from me he stopped. I did the same. Then + he began wagging his tail, and came over to me with short steps and + nervous movements of his whole body, bending down on his paws as if + appealing to me, and softly shaking his head. I spoke to him. He then + began to crawl along in such a sad, humble, suppliant manner that I felt + the tears coming into my eyes. I approached him; he ran away, then he came + back again; and I bent down on one knee trying to coax him to approach me, + with soft words. At last, he was within reach of my hands, and I gently + and very carefully stroked him. + </p> + <p> + “He gained courage, gradually rose and, placing his paws on my + shoulders, began to lick my face. He followed me to the house. + </p> + <p> + “This was really the first being I had passionately loved, because + he returned my affection. My attachment to this animal was certainly + exaggerated and ridiculous. It seemed to me in a confused sort of way that + we were two brothers, lost on this earth, and therefore isolated and + without defense, one as well as the other. He never again quitted my side. + He slept at the foot of my bed, ate at the table in spite of the + objections of my parents, and followed me in my solitary walks. + </p> + <p> + “I often stopped at the side of a ditch, and sat down in the grass. + Sam immediately rushed up, lay down at my feet, and lifted up my hand with + his muzzle that I might caress him. + </p> + <p> + “One day toward the end of June, as we were on the road from + Saint-Pierre de Chavrol, I saw the diligence from Pavereau coming along. + Its four horses were going at a gallop, with its yellow body, and its + imperial with the black leather hood. The coachman cracked his whip; a + cloud of dust rose up under the wheels of the heavy vehicle, then floated + behind, just as a cloud would do. + </p> + <p> + “Suddenly, as the vehicle came close to me, Sam, perhaps frightened + by the noise and wishing to join me, jumped in front of it. A horse's hoof + knocked him down. I saw him roll over, turn round, fall back again beneath + the horses' feet, then the coach gave two jolts, and behind it I saw + something quivering in the dust on the road. He was nearly cut in two; all + his intestines were hanging out and blood was spurting from the wound. He + tried to get up, to walk, but he could only move his two front paws, and + scratch the ground with them, as if to make a hole. The two others were + already dead. And he howled dreadfully, mad with pain. + </p> + <p> + “He died in a few minutes. I cannot describe how much I felt and + suffered. I was confined to my room for a month. + </p> + <p> + “One night, my father, enraged at seeing me so affected by such a + trifling occurrence, exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “'How will it be when you have real griefs—if you lose your + wife or children?' + </p> + <p> + “His words haunted me and I began to see my condition clearly. I + understood why all the small miseries of each day assumed in my eyes the + importance of a catastrophe; I saw that I was organized in such a way that + I suffered dreadfully from everything, that every painful impression was + multiplied by my diseased sensibility, and an atrocious fear of life took + possession of me. I was without passions, without ambitions; I resolved to + sacrifice possible joys in order to avoid sure sorrows. Existence is + short, but I made up my mind to spend it in the service of others, in + relieving their troubles and enjoying their happiness. Having no direct + experience of either one or the other, I should only experience a milder + form of emotion. + </p> + <p> + “And if you only knew how, in spite of this, misery tortures me, + ravages me! But what would formerly have been an intolerable affliction + has become commiseration, pity. + </p> + <p> + “These sorrows which cross my path at every moment, I could not + endure if they affected me directly. I could not have seen one of my + children die without dying myself. And I have, in spite of everything, + preserved such a mysterious, overwhelming fear of events that the sight of + the postman entering my house makes a shiver pass every day through my + veins, and yet I have nothing to be afraid of now.” + </p> + <p> + The Abbe Mauduit ceased speaking. He stared into the fire in the huge + grate, as if he saw there mysterious things, all the unknown of the + existence he might have passed had he been more fearless in the face of + suffering. + </p> + <p> + He added, then, in a subdued tone: + </p> + <p> + “I was right. I was not made for this world.” + </p> + <p> + The comtesse said nothing at first; but at length, after a long silence, + she remarked: + </p> + <p> + “For my part, if I had not my grandchildren, I believe I would not + have the courage to live.” + </p> + <p> + And the cure rose up without saying another word. + </p> + <p> + As the servants were asleep in the kitchen, she accompanied him herself to + the door, which looked out on the garden, and she saw his tall shadow, lit + up by the reflection of the lamp, disappearing through the gloom of night. + </p> + <p> + Then she came back and sat down before the fire, and pondered over many + things we never think of when we are young. + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0073"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + FORGIVENESS + </h2> + <p> + She had been brought up in one of those families who live entirely to + themselves, apart from all the rest of the world. Such families know + nothing of political events, although they are discussed at table; for + changes in the Government take place at such a distance from them that + they are spoken of as one speaks of a historical event, such as the death + of Louis XVI or the landing of Napoleon. + </p> + <p> + Customs are modified in course of time, fashions succeed one another, but + such variations are taken no account of in the placid family circle where + traditional usages prevail year after year. And if some scandalous episode + or other occurs in the neighborhood, the disreputable story dies a natural + death when it reaches the threshold of the house. The father and mother + may, perhaps, exchange a few words on the subject when alone together some + evening, but they speak in hushed tones—for even walls have ears. + The father says, with bated breath: + </p> + <p> + “You've heard of that terrible affair in the Rivoil family?” + </p> + <p> + And the mother answers: + </p> + <p> + “Who would have dreamed of such a thing? It's dreadful.” + </p> + <p> + The children suspected nothing, and arrive in their turn at years of + discretion with eyes and mind blindfolded, ignorant of the real side of + life, not knowing that people do not think as they speak, and do not speak + as they act; or aware that they should live at war, or at all events, in a + state of armed peace, with the rest of mankind; not suspecting the fact + that the simple are always deceived, the sincere made sport of, the good + maltreated. + </p> + <p> + Some go on till the day of their death in this blind probity and loyalty + and honor, so pure-minded that nothing can open their eyes. + </p> + <p> + Others, undeceived, but without fully understanding, make mistakes, are + dismayed, and become desperate, believing themselves the playthings of a + cruel fate, the wretched victims of adverse circumstances, and + exceptionally wicked men. + </p> + <p> + The Savignols married their daughter Bertha at the age of eighteen. She + wedded a young Parisian, George Baron by name, who had dealings on the + Stock Exchange. He was handsome, well-mannered, and apparently all that + could be desired. But in the depths of his heart he somewhat despised his + old-fashioned parents-in-law, whom he spoke of among his intimates as + “my dear old fossils.” + </p> + <p> + He belonged to a good family, and the girl was rich. They settled down in + Paris. + </p> + <p> + She became one of those provincial Parisians whose name is legion. She + remained in complete ignorance of the great city, of its social side, its + pleasures and its customs—just as she remained ignorant also of + life, its perfidy and its mysteries. + </p> + <p> + Devoted to her house, she knew scarcely anything beyond her own street; + and when she ventured into another part of Paris it seemed to her that she + had accomplished a long and arduous journey into some unknown, unexplored + city. She would then say to her husband in the evening: + </p> + <p> + “I have been through the boulevards to-day.” + </p> + <p> + Two or three times a year her husband took her to the theatre. These were + events the remembrance of which never grew dim; they provided subjects of + conversation for long afterward. + </p> + <p> + Sometimes three months afterward she would suddenly burst into laughter, + and exclaim: + </p> + <p> + “Do you remember that actor dressed up as a general, who crowed like + a cock?” + </p> + <p> + Her friends were limited to two families related to her own. She spoke of + them as “the Martinets” and “the Michelins.” + </p> + <p> + Her husband lived as he pleased, coming home when it suited him —sometimes + not until dawn—alleging business, but not putting himself out + overmuch to account for his movements, well aware that no suspicion would + ever enter his wife's guileless soul. + </p> + <p> + But one morning she received an anonymous letter. + </p> + <p> + She was thunderstruck—too simple-minded to understand the infamy of + unsigned information and to despise the letter, the writer of which + declared himself inspired by interest in her happiness, hatred of evil, + and love of truth. + </p> + <p> + This missive told her that her husband had had for two years past, a + sweetheart, a young widow named Madame Rosset, with whom he spent all his + evenings. + </p> + <p> + Bertha knew neither how to dissemble her grief nor how to spy on her + husband. When he came in for lunch she threw the letter down before him, + burst into tears, and fled to her room. + </p> + <p> + He had time to take in the situation and to prepare his reply. He knocked + at his wife's door. She opened it at once, but dared not look at him. He + smiled, sat down, drew her to his knee, and in a tone of light raillery + began: + </p> + <p> + “My dear child, as a matter of fact, I have a friend named Madame + Rosset, whom I have known for the last ten years, and of whom I have a + very high opinion. I may add that I know scores of other people whose + names I have never mentioned to you, seeing that you do not care for + society, or fresh acquaintances, or functions of any sort. But, to make + short work of such vile accusations as this, I want you to put on your + things after lunch, and we'll go together and call on this lady, who will + very soon become a friend of yours, too, I am quite sure.” + </p> + <p> + She embraced her husband warmly, and, moved by that feminine spirit of + curiosity which will not be lulled once it is aroused, consented to go and + see this unknown widow, of whom she was, in spite of everything, just the + least bit jealous. She felt instinctively that to know a danger is to be + already armed against it. + </p> + <p> + She entered a small, tastefully furnished flat on the fourth floor of an + attractive house. After waiting five minutes in a drawing-room rendered + somewhat dark by its many curtains and hangings, a door opened, and a very + dark, short, rather plump young woman appeared, surprised and smiling. + </p> + <p> + George introduced them: + </p> + <p> + “My wife—Madame Julie Rosset.” + </p> + <p> + The young widow uttered a half-suppressed cry of astonishment and joy, and + ran forward with hands outstretched. She had not hoped, she said, to have + this pleasure, knowing that Madame Baron never saw any one, but she was + delighted to make her acquaintance. She was so fond of George (she said + “George” in a familiar, sisterly sort of way) that, she had + been most anxious to know his young wife and to make friends with her, + too. + </p> + <p> + By the end of a month the two new friends were inseparable. They saw each + other every day, sometimes twice a day, and dined together every evening, + sometimes at one house, sometimes at the other. George no longer deserted + his home, no longer talked of pressing business. He adored his own + fireside, he said. + </p> + <p> + When, after a time, a flat in the house where Madame Rosset lived became + vacant Madame Baron hastened to take it, in order to be near her friend + and spend even more time with her than hitherto. + </p> + <p> + And for two whole years their friendship was without a cloud, a friendship + of heart and mind—absolute, tender, devoted. Bertha could hardly + speak without bringing in Julie's name. To her Madame Rosset represented + perfection. + </p> + <p> + She was utterly happy, calm and contented. + </p> + <p> + But Madame Rosset fell ill. Bertha hardly left her side. She spent her + nights with her, distracted with grief; even her husband seemed + inconsolable. + </p> + <p> + One morning the doctor, after leaving the invalid's bedside, took George + and his wife aside, and told them that he considered Julie's condition + very grave. + </p> + <p> + As soon as he had gone the grief-stricken husband and wife sat down + opposite each other and gave way to tears. That night they both sat up + with the patient. Bertha tenderly kissed her friend from time to time, + while George stood at the foot of the bed, his eyes gazing steadfastly on + the invalid's face. + </p> + <p> + The next day she was worse. + </p> + <p> + But toward evening she declared she felt better, and insisted that her + friends should go back to their own apartment to dinner. + </p> + <p> + They were sitting sadly in the dining-room, scarcely even attempting to + eat, when the maid gave George a note. He opened it, turned pale as death, + and, rising from the table, said to his wife in a constrained voice: + </p> + <p> + “Wait for me. I must leave you a moment. I shall be back in ten + minutes. Don't go away on any account.” + </p> + <p> + And he hurried to his room to get his hat. + </p> + <p> + Bertha waited for him, a prey to fresh anxiety. But, docile in everything, + she would not go back to her friend till he returned. + </p> + <p> + At length, as he did not reappear, it occurred to her to visit his room + and see if he had taken his gloves. This would show whether or not he had + had a call to make. + </p> + <p> + She saw them at the first glance. Beside them lay a crumpled paper, + evidently thrown down in haste. + </p> + <p> + She recognized it at once as the note George had received. + </p> + <p> + And a burning temptation, the first that had ever assailed her urged her + to read it and discover the cause of her husband's abrupt departure. Her + rebellious conscience protested but a devouring and fearful curiosity + prevailed. She seized the paper, smoothed it out, recognized the + tremulous, penciled writing as Julie's, and read: + </p> + <p> + “Come alone and kiss me, my poor dear. I am dying.” + </p> + <p> + At first she did not understand, the idea of Julie's death being her + uppermost thought. But all at once the true meaning of what she read burst + in a flash upon her; this penciled note threw a lurid light upon her whole + existence, revealed the whole infamous truth, all the treachery and + perfidy of which she had been the victim. She understood the long years of + deceit, the way in which she had been made their puppet. She saw them + again, sitting side by side in the evening, reading by lamplight out of + the same book, glancing at each other at the end of each page. + </p> + <p> + And her poor, indignant, suffering, bleeding heart was cast into the + depths of a despair which knew no bounds. + </p> + <p> + Footsteps drew near; she fled, and shut herself in her own room. + </p> + <p> + Presently her husband called her: + </p> + <p> + “Come quickly! Madame Rosset is dying.” + </p> + <p> + Bertha appeared at her door, and with trembling lips replied: + </p> + <p> + “Go back to her alone; she does not need me.” + </p> + <p> + He looked at her stupidly, dazed with grief, and repeated: + </p> + <p> + “Come at once! She's dying, I tell you!” + </p> + <p> + Bertha answered: + </p> + <p> + “You would rather it were I.” + </p> + <p> + Then at last he understood, and returned alone to the dying woman's + bedside. + </p> + <p> + He mourned her openly, shamelessly, indifferent to the sorrow of the wife + who no longer spoke to him, no longer looked at him; who passed her life + in solitude, hedged round with disgust, with indignant anger, and praying + night and day to God. + </p> + <p> + They still lived in the same house, however, and sat opposite each other + at table, in silence and despair. + </p> + <p> + Gradually his sorrow grew less acute; but she did not forgive him. + </p> + <p> + And so their life went on, hard and bitter for them both. + </p> + <p> + For a whole year they remained as complete strangers to each other as if + they had never met. Bertha nearly lost her reason. + </p> + <p> + At last one morning she went out very early, and returned about eight + o'clock bearing in her hands an enormous bouquet of white roses. And she + sent word to her husband that she wanted to speak to him. He came-anxious + and uneasy. + </p> + <p> + “We are going out together,” she said. “Please carry + these flowers; they are too heavy for me.” + </p> + <p> + A carriage took them to the gate of the cemetery, where they alighted. + Then, her eyes filling with tears, she said to George: + </p> + <p> + “Take me to her grave.” + </p> + <p> + He trembled, and could not understand her motive; but he led the way, + still carrying the flowers. At last he stopped before a white marble slab, + to which he pointed without a word. + </p> + <p> + She took the bouquet from him, and, kneeling down, placed it on the grave. + Then she offered up a silent, heartfelt prayer. + </p> + <p> + Behind her stood her husband, overcome by recollections of the past. + </p> + <p> + She rose, and held out her hands to him. + </p> + <p> + “If you wish it, we will be friends,” she said. + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0074"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + IN THE SPRING + </h2> + <p> + With the first day of spring, when the awakening earth puts on its garment + of green, and the warm, fragrant air fans our faces and fills our lungs + and appears even to penetrate to our hearts, we experience a vague, + undefined longing for freedom, for happiness, a desire to run, to wander + aimlessly, to breathe in the spring. The previous winter having been + unusually severe, this spring feeling was like a form of intoxication in + May, as if there were an overabundant supply of sap. + </p> + <p> + One morning on waking I saw from my window the blue sky glowing in the sun + above the neighboring houses. The canaries hanging in the windows were + singing loudly, and so were the servants on every floor; a cheerful noise + rose up from the streets, and I went out, my spirits as bright as the day, + to go—I did not exactly know where. Everybody I met seemed to be + smiling; an air of happiness appeared to pervade everything in the warm + light of returning spring. One might almost have said that a breeze of + love was blowing through the city, and the sight of the young women whom I + saw in the streets in their morning toilets, in the depths of whose eyes + there lurked a hidden tenderness, and who walked with languid grace, + filled my heart with agitation. + </p> + <p> + Without knowing how or why, I found myself on the banks of the Seine. + Steamboats were starting for Suresnes, and suddenly I was seized by an + unconquerable desire to take a walk through the woods. The deck of the + Mouche was covered with passengers, for the sun in early spring draws one + out of the house, in spite of themselves, and everybody moves about, goes + and comes and talks to his neighbor. + </p> + <p> + I had a girl neighbor; a little work-girl, no doubt, who possessed the + true Parisian charm: a little head, with light curly hair, which looked + like a shimmer of light as it danced in the wind, came down to her ears, + and descended to the nape of her neck, where it became such fine, + light-colored clown that one could scarcely see it, but felt an + irresistible desire to shower kisses on it. + </p> + <p> + Under my persistent gaze, she turned her head toward me, and then + immediately looked down, while a slight crease at the side of her mouth, + that was ready to break out into a smile, also showed a fine, silky, pale + down which the sun was gilding a little. + </p> + <p> + The calm river grew wider; the atmosphere was warm and perfectly still, + but a murmur of life seemed to fill all space. + </p> + <p> + My neighbor raised her eyes again, and this time, as I was still looking + at her, she smiled decidedly. She was charming, and in her passing glance + I saw a thousand things, which I had hitherto been ignorant of, for I + perceived unknown depths, all the charm of tenderness, all the poetry + which we dream of, all the happiness which we are continually in search + of. I felt an insane longing to open my arms and to carry her off + somewhere, so as to whisper the sweet music of words of love into her + ears. + </p> + <p> + I was just about to address her when somebody touched me on the shoulder, + and as I turned round in some surprise, I saw an ordinary-looking man, who + was neither young nor old, and who gazed at me sadly. + </p> + <p> + “I should like to speak to you,” he said. + </p> + <p> + I made a grimace, which he no doubt saw, for he added: + </p> + <p> + “It is a matter of importance.” + </p> + <p> + I got up, therefore, and followed him to the other end of the boat and + then he said: + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur, when winter comes, with its cold, wet and snowy weather, + your doctor says to you constantly: 'Keep your feet warm, guard against + chills, colds, bronchitis, rheumatism and pleurisy.' + </p> + <p> + “Then you are very careful, you wear flannel, a heavy greatcoat and + thick shoes, but all this does not prevent you from passing two months in + bed. But when spring returns, with its leaves and flowers, its warm, soft + breezes and its smell of the fields, all of which causes you vague + disquiet and causeless emotion, nobody says to you: + </p> + <p> + “'Monsieur, beware of love! It is lying in ambush everywhere; it is + watching for you at every corner; all its snares are laid, all its weapons + are sharpened, all its guiles are prepared! Beware of love! Beware of + love! It is more dangerous than brandy, bronchitis or pleurisy! It never + forgives and makes everybody commit irreparable follies.' + </p> + <p> + “Yes, monsieur, I say that the French Government ought to put large + public notices on the walls, with these words: 'Return of spring. French + citizens, beware of love!' just as they put: 'Beware of paint: + </p> + <p> + “However, as the government will not do this, I must supply its + place, and I say to you: 'Beware of love!' for it is just going to seize + you, and it is my duty to inform you of it, just as in Russia they inform + any one that his nose is frozen.” + </p> + <p> + I was much astonished at this individual, and assuming a dignified manner, + I said: + </p> + <p> + “Really, monsieur, you appear to me to be interfering in a matter + which is no concern of yours.” + </p> + <p> + He made an abrupt movement and replied: + </p> + <p> + “Ah! monsieur, monsieur! If I see that a man is in danger of being + drowned at a dangerous spot, ought I to let him perish? So just listen to + my story and you will see why I ventured to speak to you like this. + </p> + <p> + “It was about this time last year that it occurred. But, first of + all, I must tell you that I am a clerk in the Admiralty, where our chiefs, + the commissioners, take their gold lace as quill-driving officials + seriously, and treat us like forecastle men on board a ship. Well, from my + office I could see a small bit of blue sky and the swallows, and I felt + inclined to dance among my portfolios. + </p> + <p> + “My yearning for freedom grew so intense that, in spite of my + repugnance, I went to see my chief, a short, bad-tempered man, who was + always in a rage. When I told him that I was not well, he looked at me and + said: 'I do not believe it, monsieur, but be off with you! Do you think + that any office can go on with clerks like you?' I started at once and + went down the Seine. It was a day like this, and I took the Mouche, to go + as far as Saint Cloud. Ah! what a good thing it would have been if my + chief had refused me permission to leave the office that day! + </p> + <p> + “I seemed to myself to expand in the sun. I loved everything—the + steamer, the river, the trees, the houses and my fellow-passengers. I felt + inclined to kiss something, no matter what; it was love, laying its snare. + Presently, at the Trocadero, a girl, with a small parcel in her hand, came + on board and sat down opposite me. She was decidedly pretty, but it is + surprising, monsieur, how much prettier women seem to us when the day is + fine at the beginning of the spring. Then they have an intoxicating charm, + something quite peculiar about them. It is just like drinking wine after + cheese. + </p> + <p> + “I looked at her and she also looked at me, but only occasionally, + as that girl did at you, just now; but at last, by dint of looking at each + other constantly, it seemed to me that we knew each other well enough to + enter into conversation, and I spoke to her and she replied. She was + decidedly pretty and nice and she intoxicated me, monsieur! + </p> + <p> + “She got out at Saint-Cloud, and I followed her. She went and + delivered her parcel, and when she returned the boat had just started. I + walked by her side, and the warmth of the 'air made us both sigh. 'It + would be very nice in the woods,' I said. 'Indeed, it would!' she replied. + 'Shall we go there for a walk, mademoiselie?' + </p> + <p> + “She gave me a quick upward look, as if to see exactly what I was + like, and then, after a little hesitation, she accepted my proposal, and + soon we were there, walking side by side. Under the foliage, which was + still rather scanty, the tall, thick, bright green grass was inundated by + the sun, and the air was full of insects that were also making love to one + another, and birds were singing in all directions. My companion began to + jump and to run, intoxicated by the air and the smell of the country, and + I ran and jumped, following her example. How silly we are at times, + monsieur! + </p> + <p> + “Then she sang unrestrainedly a thousand things, opera airs and the + song of Musette! The song of Musette! How poetical it seemed to me, then! + I almost cried over it. Ah! Those silly songs make us lose our heads; and, + believe me, never marry a woman who sings in the country, especially if + she sings the song of Musette! + </p> + <p> + “She soon grew tired, and sat down on a grassy slope, and I sat at + her feet and took her hands, her little hands, that were so marked with + the needle, and that filled me with emotion. I said to myself: + </p> + <p> + “'These are the sacred marks of toil.' Oh! monsieur, do you know + what those sacred marks of toil mean? They mean all the gossip of the + workroom, the whispered scandal, the mind soiled by all the filth that is + talked; they mean lost chastity, foolish chatter, all the wretchedness of + their everyday life, all the narrowness of ideas which belongs to women of + the lower orders, combined to their fullest extent in the girl whose + fingers bear the sacred marks of toil. + </p> + <p> + “Then we looked into each other's eyes for a long while. Oh! what + power a woman's eye has! How it agitates us, how it invades our very + being, takes possession of us, and dominates us! How profound it seems, + how full of infinite promises! People call that looking into each other's + souls! Oh! monsieur, what humbug! If we could see into each other's souls, + we should be more careful of what we did. However, I was captivated and + was crazy about her and tried to take her into my arms, but she said: + 'Paws off!'. Then I knelt down and opened my heart to her and poured out + all the affection that was suffocating me. She seemed surprised at my + change of manner and gave me a sidelong glance, as if to say, 'Ah! so that + is the way women make a fool of you, old fellow! Very well, we will see.' + </p> + <p> + “In love, monsieur, we are always novices, and women artful dealers. + </p> + <p> + “No doubt I could have had her, and I saw my own stupidity later, + but what I wanted was not a woman's person, it was love, it was the ideal. + I was sentimental, when I ought to have been using my time to a better + purpose. + </p> + <p> + “As soon as she had had enough of my declarations of affection, she + got up, and we returned to Saint-Cloud, and I did not leave her until we + got to Paris; but she had looked so sad as we were returning, that at last + I asked her what was the matter. 'I am thinking,' she replied, 'that this + has been one of those days of which we have but few in life.' My heart + beat so that it felt as if it would break my ribs. + </p> + <p> + “I saw her on the following Sunday, and the next Sunday, and every + Sunday. I took her to Bougival, Saint-Germain, Maisons-Lafitte, Poissy; to + every suburban resort of lovers. + </p> + <p> + “The little jade, in turn, pretended to love me, until, at last, I + altogether lost my head, and three months later I married her. + </p> + <p> + “What can you expect, monsieur, when a man is a clerk, living alone, + without any relations, or any one to advise him? One says to one's self: + 'How sweet life would be with a wife!' + </p> + <p> + “And so one gets married and she calls you names from morning till + night, understands nothing, knows nothing, chatters continually, sings the + song of Musette at the, top of her voice (oh! that song of Musette, how + tired one gets of it!); quarrels with the charcoal dealer, tells the + janitor all her domestic details, confides all the secrets of her bedroom + to the neighbor's servant, discusses her husband with the tradespeople and + has her head so stuffed with stupid stories, with idiotic superstitions, + with extraordinary ideas and monstrous prejudices, that I—for what I + have said applies more particularly to myself—shed tears of + discouragement every time I talk to her.” + </p> + <p> + He stopped, as he was rather out of breath and very much moved, and I + looked at him, for I felt pity for this poor, artless devil, and I was + just going to give him some sort of answer, when the boat stopped. We were + at Saint-Cloud. + </p> + <p> + The little woman who had so taken my fancy rose from her seat in order to + land. She passed close to me, and gave me a sidelong glance and a furtive + smile, one of those smiles that drive you wild. Then she jumped on the + landing-stage. I sprang forward to follow her, but my neighbor laid hold + of my arm. I shook myself loose, however, whereupon he seized the skirt of + my coat and pulled me back, exclaiming: “You shall not go! you shall + not go!” in such a loud voice that everybody turned round and + laughed, and I remained standing motionless and furious, but without + venturing to face scandal and ridicule, and the steamboat started. + </p> + <p> + The little woman on the landing-stage looked at me as I went off with an + air of disappointment, while my persecutor rubbed his hands and whispered + to me: + </p> + <p> + “You must acknowledge that I have done you a great service.” + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0075"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + A QUEER NIGHT IN PARIS + </h2> + <p> + Mattre Saval, notary at Vernon, was passionately fond of music. Although + still young he was already bald; he was always carefully shaven, was + somewhat corpulent as was suitable, and wore a gold pince-nez instead of + spectacles. He was active, gallant and cheerful and was considered quite + an artist in Vernon. He played the piano and the violin, and gave musicals + where the new operas were interpreted. + </p> + <p> + He had even what is called a bit of a voice; nothing but a bit, very + little bit of a voice; but he managed it with so much taste that cries of + “Bravo!” “Exquisite!” “Surprising!” + “Adorable!” issued from every throat as soon as he had + murmured the last note. + </p> + <p> + He subscribed to a music publishing house in Paris, and they sent him the + latest music, and from time to time he sent invitations after this fashion + to the elite of the town: + </p> + <p> + “You are invited to be present on Monday evening at the house of M. + Saval, notary, Vernon, at the first rendering of 'Sais.'” + </p> + <p> + A few officers, gifted with good voices, formed the chorus. Two or three + lady amateurs also sang. The notary filled the part of leader of the + orchestra with so much correctness that the bandmaster of the 190th + regiment of the line said of him, one day, at the Cafe de l'Europe. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! M. Saval is a master. It is a great pity that he did not adopt + the career of an artist.” + </p> + <p> + When his name was mentioned in a drawing-room, there was always somebody + found to declare: “He is not an amateur; he is an artist, a genuine + artist.” + </p> + <p> + And two or three persons repeated, in a tone of profound conviction: + </p> + <p> + “Oh! yes, a genuine artist,” laying particular stress on the + word “genuine.” + </p> + <p> + Every time that a new work was interpreted at a big Parisian theatre M. + Saval paid a visit to the capital. + </p> + <p> + Now, last year, according to his custom, he went to hear Henri VIII. He + then took the express which arrives in Paris at 4:30 P.M., intending to + return by the 12:35 A.M. train, so as not to have to sleep at a hotel. He + had put on evening dress, a black coat and white tie, which he concealed + under his overcoat with the collar turned up. + </p> + <p> + As soon as he set foot on the Rue d'Amsterdam, he felt himself in quite + jovial mood. He said to himself: + </p> + <p> + “Decidedly, the air of Paris does not resemble any other air. It has + in it something indescribably stimulating, exciting, intoxicating, which + fills you with a strange longing to dance about and to do many other + things. As soon as I arrive here, it seems to me, all of a sudden, that I + have taken a bottle of champagne. What a life one can lead in this city in + the midst of artists! Happy are the elect, the great men who make + themselves a reputation in such a city! What an existence is theirs!” + </p> + <p> + And he made plans; he would have liked to know some of these celebrated + men, to talk about them in Vernon, and to spend an evening with them from + time to time in Paris. + </p> + <p> + But suddenly an idea struck him. He had heard allusions to little cafes in + the outer boulevards at which well-known painters, men of letters, and + even musicians gathered, and he proceeded to go up to Montmartre at a slow + pace. + </p> + <p> + He had two hours before him. He wanted to look about him. He passed in + front of taverns frequented by belated bohemians, gazing at the different + faces, seeking to discover the artists. Finally, he came to the sign of + “The Dead Rat,” and, allured by the name, he entered. + </p> + <p> + Five or six women, with their elbows resting on the marble tables, were + talking in low tones about their love affairs, the quarrels of Lucie and + Hortense, and the scoundrelism of Octave. They were no longer young, were + too fat or too thin, tired out, used up. You could see that they were + almost bald; and they drank beer like men. + </p> + <p> + M. Saval sat down at some distance from them and waited, for the hour for + taking absinthe was at hand. + </p> + <p> + A tall young man soon came in and took a seat beside him. The landlady + called him M. “Romantin.” The notary quivered. Was this the + Romantin who had taken a medal at the last Salon? + </p> + <p> + The young man made a sign to the waiter. + </p> + <p> + “You will bring up my dinner at once, and then carry to my new + studio, 15 Boulevard de Clichy, thirty bottles of beer, and the ham I + ordered this morning. We are going to have a housewarming.” + </p> + <p> + M. Saval immediately ordered dinner. Then, he took off his overcoat, so + that his dress suit and his white tie could be seen. His neighbor did not + seem to notice him. He had taken up a newspaper, and was reading it. M. + Saval glanced sideways at him, burning with the desire to speak to him. + </p> + <p> + Two young men entered, in red vests and with peaked beards, in the fashion + of Henry III. They sat down opposite Romantin. + </p> + <p> + The first of the pair said: + </p> + <p> + “Is it for this evening?” + </p> + <p> + Romantin pressed his hand. + </p> + <p> + “I believe you, old chap, and everyone will be there. I have Bonnat, + Guillemet, Gervex, Beraud, Hebert, Duez, Clairin, and Jean-Paul Laurens. + It will be a stunning affair! And women, too! Wait till you see! Every + actress without exception—of course I mean, you know, all those who + have nothing to do this evening.” + </p> + <p> + The landlord of the establishment came across. + </p> + <p> + “Do you often have this housewarming?” + </p> + <p> + The painter replied: + </p> + <p> + “I believe you, every three months, each quarter.” + </p> + <p> + M. Saval could not restrain himself any longer, and in a hesitating voice + said: + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon for intruding on you, monsieur, but I heard your + name mentioned, and I would be very glad to know if you really are M. + Romantin, whose work in the last Salon I have so much admired?” + </p> + <p> + The painter answered: + </p> + <p> + “I am the very person, monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + The notary then paid the artist a very well-turned compliment, showing + that he was a man of culture. + </p> + <p> + The painter, gratified, thanked him politely in reply. + </p> + <p> + Then they chattered. Romantin returned to the subject of his + house-warming, going into details as to the magnificence of the + forthcoming entertainment. + </p> + <p> + M. Saval questioned him as to all the men he was going to receive, adding: + </p> + <p> + “It would be an extraordinary piece of good fortune for a stranger + to meet at one time so many celebrities assembled in the studio of an + artist of your rank.” + </p> + <p> + Romantin, vanquished, replied: + </p> + <p> + “If it would be agreeable to you, come.” + </p> + <p> + M. Saval accepted the invitation with enthusiasm, reflecting: + </p> + <p> + “I shall have time enough to see Henri VIII.” + </p> + <p> + Both of them had finished their meal. The notary insisted on paying the + two bills, wishing to repay his neighbor's civilities. He also paid for + the drinks of the young fellows in red velvet; then he left the + establishment with the painter. + </p> + <p> + They stopped in front of a very long, low house, the first story having + the appearance of an interminable conservatory. Six studios stood in a row + with their fronts facing the boulevards. + </p> + <p> + Romantin was the first to enter, and, ascending the stairs, he opened a + door, and lighted a match and then a candle. + </p> + <p> + They found themselves in an immense apartment, the furniture of which + consisted of three chairs, two easels, and a few sketches standing on the + ground along the walls. M. Saval remained standing at the door somewhat + astonished. + </p> + <p> + The painter remarked: + </p> + <p> + “Here you are! we've got to the spot; but everything has yet to be + done.” + </p> + <p> + Then, examining the high, bare apartment, its ceiling disappearing in the + darkness, he said: + </p> + <p> + “We might make a great deal out of this studio.” + </p> + <p> + He walked round it, surveying it with the utmost attention, then went on: + </p> + <p> + “I know someone who might easily give a helping hand. Women are + incomparable for hanging drapery. But I sent her to the country for to-day + in order to get her off my hands this evening. It is not that she bores + me, but she is too much lacking in the ways of good society. It would be + embarrassing to my guests.” + </p> + <p> + He reflected for a few seconds, and then added: + </p> + <p> + “She is a good girl, but not easy to deal with. If she knew that I + was holding a reception, she would tear out my eyes.” + </p> + <p> + M. Saval had not even moved; he did not understand. + </p> + <p> + The artist came over to him. + </p> + <p> + “Since I have invited you, you will assist me about something.” + </p> + <p> + The notary said emphatically: + </p> + <p> + “Make any use of me you please. I am at your disposal.” + </p> + <p> + Romantin took off his jacket. + </p> + <p> + “Well, citizen, to work!' We are first going to clean up.” + </p> + <p> + He went to the back of the easel, on which there was a canvas representing + a cat, and seized a very worn-out broom. + </p> + <p> + “I say! Just brush up while I look after the lighting.” + </p> + <p> + M. Saval took the broom, inspected it, and then began to sweep the floor + very awkwardly, raising a whirlwind of dust. + </p> + <p> + Romantin, disgusted, stopped him: “Deuce take it! you don't know how + to sweep the floor! Look at me!” + </p> + <p> + And he began to roll before him a heap of grayish sweepings, as if he had + done nothing else all his life. Then, he gave bark the broom to the + notary, who imitated him. + </p> + <p> + In five minutes, such a cloud of dust filled the studio that Rormantin + asked: + </p> + <p> + “Where are you? I can't see you any longer.” + </p> + <p> + M. Saval, who was coughing, came near to him. The painter said: + </p> + <p> + “How would you set about making a chandelier?” + </p> + <p> + The other, surprised, asked: + </p> + <p> + “What chandelier?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, a chandelier to light the room—a chandelier with + wax-candles.” + </p> + <p> + The notary did not understand. + </p> + <p> + He answered: “I don't know.” + </p> + <p> + The painter began to jump about, cracking his fingers. + </p> + <p> + “Well, monseigneur, I have found out a way.” + </p> + <p> + Then he went on more calmly: + </p> + <p> + “Have you got five francs about you?” + </p> + <p> + M. Saval replied: + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes.” + </p> + <p> + The artist said: “Well! you'll go out and buy for me five francs' + worth of wax-candles while I go and see the cooper.” + </p> + <p> + And he pushed the notary in his evening coat into the street. At the end + of five minutes, they had returned, one of them with the wax-candles and + the other with the hoop of a cask. Then Romantin plunged his hand into a + cupboard, and drew forth twenty empty bottles, which he fixed in the form + of a crown around the hoop. + </p> + <p> + He then went downstairs to borrow a ladder from the janitress, after + having explained that he had made interest with the old woman by painting + the portrait of her cat, exhibited on the easel. + </p> + <p> + When he returned with the ladder, he said to M. Saval: + </p> + <p> + “Are you active?” + </p> + <p> + The other, without understanding, answered: + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you just climb up there, and fasten this chandelier for me to + the ring of the ceiling. Then, you put a wax-candle in each bottle, and + light it. I tell you I have a genius for lighting up. But off with your + coat, damn it! You are just like a Jeames.” + </p> + <p> + The door was opened brusquely. A woman appeared, her eyes flashing, and + remained standing on the threshold. + </p> + <p> + Romantin gazed at her with a look of terror. + </p> + <p> + She waited some seconds, crossing her arms over her breast, and then in a + shrill, vibrating, exasperated voice said: + </p> + <p> + “Ha! you dirty scoundrel, is this the way you leave me?” + </p> + <p> + Romantin made no reply. She went on: + </p> + <p> + “Ha! you scoundrel! You did a nice thing in parking me off to the + country. You'll soon see the way I'll settle your jollification. Yes, I'm + going to receive your friends.” + </p> + <p> + She grew warmer. + </p> + <p> + “I'm going to slap their faces with the bottles and the wax-candles——” + </p> + <p> + Romantin said in a soft tone: + </p> + <p> + “Mathilde——” + </p> + <p> + But she did not pay any attention to him; she went on: + </p> + <p> + “Wait a little, my fine fellow! wait a little!” + </p> + <p> + Romantin went over to her, and tried to take her by the hands. + </p> + <p> + “Mathilde——” + </p> + <p> + But she was now fairly under way; and on she went, emptying the vials of + her wrath with strong words and reproaches. They flowed out of her mouth + like, a stream sweeping a heap of filth along with it. The words pouring + forth seemed struggling for exit. She stuttered, stammered, yelled, + suddenly recovering her voice to cast forth an insult or a curse. + </p> + <p> + He seized her hands without her having noticed it. She did not seem to see + anything, so taken up was she in scolding and relieving her feelings. And + suddenly she began to weep. The tears flowed from her eyes, but this did + not stop her complaints. But her words were uttered in a screaming + falsetto voice with tears in it and interrupted by sobs. She commenced + afresh twice or three times, till she stopped as if something were choking + her, and at last she ceased with a regular flood of tears. + </p> + <p> + Then he clasped her in his arms and kissed her hair, affected himself. + </p> + <p> + “Mathilde, my little Mathilde, listen. You must be reasonable. You + know, if I give a supper-party to my friends, it is to thank these + gentlemen for the medal I got at the Salon. I cannot receive women. You + ought to understand that. It is not the same with artists as with other + people.” + </p> + <p> + She stammered, in the midst of her tears: + </p> + <p> + “Why didn't you tell me this?” + </p> + <p> + He replied: + </p> + <p> + “It was in order not to annoy you, not to give you pain. Listen, I'm + going to see you home. You will be very sensible, very nice; you will + remain quietly waiting for me in bed, and I'll come back as soon as it's + over.” + </p> + <p> + She murmured: + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but you will not begin over again?” + </p> + <p> + “No, I swear to you!” + </p> + <p> + He turned towards M. Saval, who had at last hooked on the chandelier: + </p> + <p> + “My dear friend, I am coming back in five minutes. If anyone arrives + in my absence, do the honors for me, will you not?” + </p> + <p> + And he carried off Mathilde, who kept drying her eyes with her + handkerchief as she went along. + </p> + <p> + Left to himself, M. Saval succeeded in putting everything around him in + order. Then he lighted the wax-candles, and waited. + </p> + <p> + He waited for a quarter of an hour, half an hour, an hour. Romantin did + not return. Then, suddenly there was a dreadful noise on the stairs, a + song shouted out in chorus by twenty mouths and a regular march like that + of a Prussian regiment. The whole house was shaken by the steady tramp of + feet. The door flew open, and a motley throng appeared—men and women + in file, two and two holding each other by the arm and stamping their + heels on the ground to mark time, advanced into the studio like a snake + uncoiling itself. They howled: + </p> +<div class='pre'> + “Come, and let us all be merry, + Pretty maids and soldiers gay!” + </div> + <p> + M. Saval, thunderstruck, remained standing in evening dress under the + chandelier. The procession of revellers caught sight of him, and uttered a + shout: + </p> + <p> + “A Jeames! A Jeames!” + </p> + <p> + And they began whirling round him, surrounding him with a circle of + vociferations. Then they took each other by the hand and went dancing + about madly. + </p> + <p> + He attempted to explain: + </p> + <p> + “Messieurs—messieurs—mesdames——” + </p> + <p> + But they did not listen to him. They whirled about, they jumped, they + brawled. + </p> + <p> + At last, the dancing ceased. M. Saval said: + </p> + <p> + “Gentlemen——” + </p> + <p> + A tall young fellow, fair-haired and bearded to the nose, interrupted him: + </p> + <p> + “What's your name, my friend?” + </p> + <p> + The notary, quite scared, said: + </p> + <p> + “I am M. Saval.” + </p> + <p> + A voice exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “You mean Baptiste.” + </p> + <p> + A woman said: + </p> + <p> + “Let the poor waiter alone! You'll end by making him get angry. He's + paid to wait on us, and not to be laughed at by us.” + </p> + <p> + Then, M. Saval noticed that each guest had brought his own provisions. One + held a bottle of wine, and the other a pie. This one had a loaf of bread, + and one a ham. + </p> + <p> + The tall, fair young fellow placed in his hands an enormous sausage, and + gave orders: + </p> + <p> + “Here, go and arrange the sideboard in the corner over there. Put + the bottles at the left and the provisions at the right.” + </p> + <p> + Saval, getting quite distracted, exclaimed: “But, messieurs, I am a + notary!” + </p> + <p> + There was a moment's silence and then a wild outburst of laughter. One + suspicious gentleman asked: + </p> + <p> + “How came you to be here?” + </p> + <p> + He explained, telling about his project of going to the opera, his + departure from Vernon, his arrival in Paris, and the way in which he had + spent the evening. + </p> + <p> + They sat around him to listen to him; they greeted him with words of + applause, and called him Scheherazade. + </p> + <p> + Romantin did not return. Other guests arrived. M. Saval was presented to + them so that he might begin his story over again. He declined; they forced + him to relate it. They seated and tied him on one of three chairs between + two women who kept constantly filling his glass. He drank; he laughed; he + talked; he sang, too. He tried to waltz with his chair, and fell on the + ground. + </p> + <p> + From that moment, he forgot everything. It seemed to him, however, that + they undressed him, put him to bed, and that he was nauseated. + </p> + <p> + When he awoke, it was broad daylight, and he lay stretched with his feet + against a cupboard, in a strange bed. + </p> + <p> + An old woman with a broom in her hand was glaring angrily at him. At last, + she said: + </p> + <p> + “Clear out, you blackguard! Clear out! What right has anyone to get + drunk like this?” + </p> + <p> + He sat up in bed, feeling very ill at ease. He asked: + </p> + <p> + “Where am I?” + </p> + <p> + “Where are you, you dirty scamp? You are drunk. Take your rotten + carcass out of here as quick as you can—and lose no time about it!” + </p> + <p> + He wanted to get up. He found that he was in no condition to do so. His + clothes had disappeared. He blurted out: + </p> + <p> + “Madame, I——Then he remembered. What was he to do? He + asked: + </p> + <p> + “Did Monsieur Romantin come back?” + </p> + <p> + The doorkeeper shouted: + </p> + <p> + “Will you take your dirty carcass out of this, so that he at any + rate may not catch you here?” + </p> + <p> + M. Saval said, in a state of confusion: + </p> + <p> + “I haven't got my clothes; they have been taken away from me.” + </p> + <p> + He had to wait, to explain his situation, give notice to his friends, and + borrow some money to buy clothes. He did not leave Paris till evening. And + when people talk about music to him in his beautiful drawing-room in + Vernon, he declares with an air of authority that painting is a very + inferior art. + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0076"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + ORIGINAL SHORT STORIES, Vol. 6. + </h2> +<div class='pre'> + GUY DE MAUPASSANT + ORIGINAL SHORT STORIES + Translated by + ALBERT M. C. McMASTER, B.A. + A. E. HENDERSON, B.A. + MME. QUESADA and Others +</div> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0077"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + VOLUME VI. + </h2> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0078"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + THAT COSTLY RIDE + </h2> + <p> + The household lived frugally on the meager income derived from the + husband's insignificant appointments. Two children had been born of the + marriage, and the earlier condition of the strictest economy had become + one of quiet, concealed, shamefaced misery, the poverty of a noble family—which + in spite of misfortune never forgets its rank. + </p> + <p> + Hector de Gribelin had been educated in the provinces, under the paternal + roof, by an aged priest. His people were not rich, but they managed to + live and to keep up appearances. + </p> + <p> + At twenty years of age they tried to find him a position, and he entered + the Ministry of Marine as a clerk at sixty pounds a year. He foundered on + the rock of life like all those who have not been early prepared for its + rude struggles, who look at life through a mist, who do not know how to + protect themselves, whose special aptitudes and faculties have not been + developed from childhood, whose early training has not developed the rough + energy needed for the battle of life or furnished them with tool or + weapon. + </p> + <p> + His first three years of office work were a martyrdom. + </p> + <p> + He had, however, renewed the acquaintance of a few friends of his family + —elderly people, far behind the times, and poor like himself, who + lived in aristocratic streets, the gloomy thoroughfares of the Faubourg + Saint-Germain; and he had created a social circle for himself. + </p> + <p> + Strangers to modern life, humble yet proud, these needy aristocrats lived + in the upper stories of sleepy, old-world houses. From top to bottom of + their dwellings the tenants were titled, but money seemed just as scarce + on the ground floor as in the attics. + </p> + <p> + Their eternal prejudices, absorption in their rank, anxiety lest they + should lose caste, filled the minds and thoughts of these families once so + brilliant, now ruined by the idleness of the men of the family. Hector de + Gribelin met in this circle a young girl as well born and as poor as + himself and married her. + </p> + <p> + They had two children in four years. + </p> + <p> + For four years more the husband and wife, harassed by poverty, knew no + other distraction than the Sunday walk in the Champs-Elysees and a few + evenings at the theatre (amounting in all to one or two in the course of + the winter) which they owed to free passes presented by some comrade or + other. + </p> + <p> + But in the spring of the following year some overtime work was entrusted + to Hector de Gribelin by his chief, for which he received the large sum of + three hundred francs. + </p> + <p> + The day he brought the money home he said to his wife: + </p> + <p> + “My dear Henrietta, we must indulge in some sort of festivity—say + an outing for the children.” + </p> + <p> + And after a long discussion it was decided that they should go and lunch + one day in the country. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” cried Hector, “once will not break us, so we'll + hire a wagonette for you, the children and the maid. And I'll have a + saddle horse; the exercise will do me good.” + </p> + <p> + The whole week long they talked of nothing but the projected excursion. + </p> + <p> + Every evening, on his return from the office, Hector caught up his elder + son, put him astride his leg, and, making him bounce up and down as hard + as he could, said: + </p> + <p> + “That's how daddy will gallop next Sunday.” + </p> + <p> + And the youngster amused himself all day long by bestriding chairs, + dragging them round the room and shouting: + </p> + <p> + “This is daddy on horseback!” + </p> + <p> + The servant herself gazed at her master with awestruck eyes as she thought + of him riding alongside the carriage, and at meal-times she listened with + all her ears while he spoke of riding and recounted the exploits of his + youth, when he lived at home with his father. Oh, he had learned in a good + school, and once he felt his steed between his legs he feared nothing—nothing + whatever! + </p> + <p> + Rubbing his hands, he repeated gaily to his wife: + </p> + <p> + “If only they would give me a restive animal I should be all the + better pleased. You'll see how well I can ride; and if you like we'll come + back by the Champs-Elysees just as all the people are returning from the + Bois. As we shall make a good appearance, I shouldn't at all object to + meeting some one from the ministry. That is all that is necessary to + insure the respect of one's chiefs.” + </p> + <p> + On the day appointed the carriage and the riding horse arrived at the same + moment before the door. Hector went down immediately to examine his mount. + He had had straps sewn to his trousers and flourished in his hand a whip + he had bought the evening before. + </p> + <p> + He raised the horse's legs and felt them one after another, passed his + hand over the animal's neck, flank and hocks, opened his mouth, examined + his teeth, declared his age; and then, the whole household having + collected round him, he delivered a discourse on the horse in general and + the specimen before him in particular, pronouncing the latter excellent in + every respect. + </p> + <p> + When the rest of the party had taken their seats in the carriage he + examined the saddle-girth; then, putting his foot in the stirrup, he + sprang to the saddle. The animal began to curvet and nearly threw his + rider. + </p> + <p> + Hector, not altogether at his ease, tried to soothe him: + </p> + <p> + “Come, come, good horse, gently now!” + </p> + <p> + Then, when the horse had recovered his equanimity and the rider his nerve, + the latter asked: + </p> + <p> + “Are you ready?” + </p> + <p> + The occupants of the carriage replied with one voice: + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Forward!” he commanded. + </p> + <p> + And the cavalcade set out. + </p> + <p> + All looks were centered on him. He trotted in the English style, rising + unnecessarily high in the saddle; looking at times as if he were mounting + into space. Sometimes he seemed on the point of falling forward on the + horse's mane; his eyes were fixed, his face drawn, his cheeks pale. + </p> + <p> + His wife, holding one of the children on her knees, and the servant, who + was carrying the other, continually cried out: + </p> + <p> + “Look at papa! look at papa!” + </p> + <p> + And the two boys, intoxicated by the motion of the carriage, by their + delight and by the keen air, uttered shrill cries. The horse, frightened + by the noise they made, started off at a gallop, and while Hector was + trying to control his steed his hat fell off, and the driver had to get + down and pick it up. When the equestrian had recovered it he called to his + wife from a distance: + </p> + <p> + “Don't let the children shout like that! They'll make the horse + bolt!” + </p> + <p> + They lunched on the grass in the Vesinet woods, having brought provisions + with them in the carriage. + </p> + <p> + Although the driver was looking after the three horses, Hector rose every + minute to see if his own lacked anything; he patted him on the neck and + fed him with bread, cakes and sugar. + </p> + <p> + “He's an unequal trotter,” he declared. “He certainly + shook me up a little at first, but, as you saw, I soon got used to it. He + knows his master now and won't give any more trouble.” + </p> + <p> + As had been decided, they returned by the Champs-Elysees. + </p> + <p> + That spacious thoroughfare literally swarmed with vehicles of every kind, + and on the sidewalks the pedestrians were so numerous that they looked + like two indeterminate black ribbons unfurling their length from the Arc + de Triomphe to the Place de la Concorde. A flood of sunlight played on + this gay scene, making the varnish of the carriages, the steel of the + harness and the handles of the carriage doors shine with dazzling + brilliancy. + </p> + <p> + An intoxication of life and motion seemed to have invaded this assemblage + of human beings, carriages and horses. In the distance the outlines of the + Obelisk could be discerned in a cloud of golden vapor. + </p> + <p> + As soon as Hector's horse had passed the Arc de Triomphe he became + suddenly imbued with fresh energy, and, realizing that his stable was not + far off, began to trot rapidly through the maze of wheels, despite all his + rider's efforts to restrain him. + </p> + <p> + The carriage was now far behind. When the horse arrived opposite the + Palais de l'Industrie he saw a clear field before him, and, turning to the + right, set off at a gallop. + </p> + <p> + An old woman wearing an apron was crossing the road in leisurely fashion. + She happened to be just in Hector's way as he arrived on the scene riding + at full speed. Powerless to control his mount, he shouted at the top of + his voice: + </p> + <p> + “Hi! Look out there! Hi!” + </p> + <p> + She must have been deaf, for she continued peacefully on her way until the + awful moment when, struck by the horse's chest as by a locomotive under + full steam, she rolled ten paces off, turning three somersaults on the + way. + </p> + <p> + Voices yelled: + </p> + <p> + “Stop him!” + </p> + <p> + Hector, frantic with terror, clung to the horse's mane and shouted: + </p> + <p> + “Help! help!” + </p> + <p> + A terrible jolt hurled him, as if shot from a gun, over his horse's ears + and cast him into the arms of a policeman who was running up to stop him. + </p> + <p> + In the space of a second a furious, gesticulating, vociferating group had + gathered round him. An old gentleman with a white mustache, wearing a + large round decoration, seemed particularly exasperated. He repeated: + </p> + <p> + “Confound it! When a man is as awkward as all that he should remain + at home and not come killing people in the streets, if he doesn't know how + to handle a horse.” + </p> + <p> + Four men arrived on the scene, carrying the old woman. She appeared to be + dead. Her skin was like parchment, her cap on one side and she was covered + with dust. + </p> + <p> + “Take her to a druggist's,” ordered the old gentleman, “and + let us go to the commissary of police.” + </p> + <p> + Hector started on his way with a policeman on either side of him, a third + was leading his horse. A crowd followed them—and suddenly the + wagonette appeared in sight. His wife alighted in consternation, the + servant lost her head, the children whimpered. He explained that he would + soon be at home, that he had knocked a woman down and that there was not + much the matter. And his family, distracted with anxiety, went on their + way. + </p> + <p> + When they arrived before the commissary the explanation took place in few + words. He gave his name—Hector de Gribelin, employed at the Ministry + of Marine; and then they awaited news of the injured woman. A policeman + who had been sent to obtain information returned, saying that she had + recovered consciousness, but was complaining of frightful internal pain. + She was a charwoman, sixty-five years of age, named Madame Simon. + </p> + <p> + When he heard that she was not dead Hector regained hope and promised to + defray her doctor's bill. Then he hastened to the druggist's. The door way + was thronged; the injured woman, huddled in an armchair, was groaning. Her + arms hung at her sides, her face was drawn. Two doctors were still engaged + in examining her. No bones were broken, but they feared some internal + lesion. + </p> + <p> + Hector addressed her: + </p> + <p> + “Do you suffer much?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes!” + </p> + <p> + “Where is the pain?” + </p> + <p> + “I feel as if my stomach were on fire.” + </p> + <p> + A doctor approached. + </p> + <p> + “Are you the gentleman who caused the accident?” + </p> + <p> + “I am.” + </p> + <p> + “This woman ought to be sent to a home. I know one where they would + take her at six francs a day. Would you like me to send her there?” + </p> + <p> + Hector was delighted at the idea, thanked him and returned home much + relieved. + </p> + <p> + His wife, dissolved in tears, was awaiting him. He reassured her. + </p> + <p> + “It's all right. This Madame Simon is better already and will be + quite well in two or three days. I have sent her to a home. It's all + right.” + </p> + <p> + When he left his office the next day he went to inquire for Madame Simon. + He found her eating rich soup with an air of great satisfaction. + </p> + <p> + “Well?” said he. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, sir,” she replied, “I'm just the same. I feel sort + of crushed—not a bit better.” + </p> + <p> + The doctor declared they must wait and see; some complication or other + might arise. + </p> + <p> + Hector waited three days, then he returned. The old woman, fresh-faced and + clear-eyed, began to whine when she saw him: + </p> + <p> + “I can't move, sir; I can't move a bit. I shall be like this for the + rest of my days.” + </p> + <p> + A shudder passed through Hector's frame. He asked for the doctor, who + merely shrugged his shoulders and said: + </p> + <p> + “What can I do? I can't tell what's wrong with her. She shrieks when + they try to raise her. They can't even move her chair from one place to + another without her uttering the most distressing cries. I am bound to + believe what she tells me; I can't look into her inside. So long as I have + no chance of seeing her walk I am not justified in supposing her to be + telling lies about herself.” + </p> + <p> + The old woman listened, motionless, a malicious gleam in her eyes. + </p> + <p> + A week passed, then a fortnight, then a month. Madame Simon did not leave + her armchair. She ate from morning to night, grew fat, chatted gaily with + the other patients and seemed to enjoy her immobility as if it were the + rest to which she was entitled after fifty years of going up and down + stairs, of turning mattresses, of carrying coal from one story to another, + of sweeping and dusting. + </p> + <p> + Hector, at his wits' end, came to see her every day. Every day he found + her calm and serene, declaring: + </p> + <p> + “I can't move, sir; I shall never be able to move again.” + </p> + <p> + Every evening Madame de Gribelin, devoured with anxiety, said: + </p> + <p> + “How is Madame Simon?” + </p> + <p> + And every time he replied with a resignation born of despair: + </p> + <p> + “Just the same; no change whatever.” + </p> + <p> + They dismissed the servant, whose wages they could no longer afford. They + economized more rigidly than ever. The whole of the extra pay had been + swallowed up. + </p> + <p> + Then Hector summoned four noted doctors, who met in consultation over the + old woman. She let them examine her, feel her, sound her, watching them + the while with a cunning eye. + </p> + <p> + “We must make her walk,” said one. + </p> + <p> + “But, sirs, I can't!” she cried. “I can't move!” + </p> + <p> + Then they took hold of her, raised her and dragged her a short distance, + but she slipped from their grasp and fell to the floor, groaning and + giving vent to such heartrending cries that they carried her back to her + seat with infinite care and precaution. + </p> + <p> + They pronounced a guarded opinion—agreeing, however, that work was + an impossibility to her. + </p> + <p> + And when Hector brought this news to his wife she sank on a chair, + murmuring: + </p> + <p> + “It would be better to bring her here; it would cost us less.” + </p> + <p> + He started in amazement. + </p> + <p> + “Here? In our own house? How can you think of such a thing?” + </p> + <p> + But she, resigned now to anything, replied with tears in her eyes: + </p> + <p> + “But what can we do, my love? It's not my fault!” + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0079"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + USELESS BEAUTY + </h2> + <div class='ph3'> + I + </div> + <p> + About half-past five one afternoon at the end of June when the sun was + shining warm and bright into the large courtyard, a very elegant victoria + with two beautiful black horses drew up in front of the mansion. + </p> + <p> + The Comtesse de Mascaret came down the steps just as her husband, who was + coming home, appeared in the carriage entrance. He stopped for a few + moments to look at his wife and turned rather pale. The countess was very + beautiful, graceful and distinguished looking, with her long oval face, + her complexion like yellow ivory, her large gray eyes and her black hair; + and she got into her carriage without looking at him, without even seeming + to have noticed him, with such a particularly high-bred air, that the + furious jealousy by which he had been devoured for so long again gnawed at + his heart. He went up to her and said: “You are going for a drive?” + </p> + <p> + She merely replied disdainfully: “You see I am!” + </p> + <p> + “In the Bois de Boulogne?” + </p> + <p> + “Most probably.” + </p> + <p> + “May I come with you?” + </p> + <p> + “The carriage belongs to you.” + </p> + <p> + Without being surprised at the tone in which she answered him, he got in + and sat down by his wife's side and said: “Bois de Boulogne.” + The footman jumped up beside the coachman, and the horses as usual pranced + and tossed their heads until they were in the street. Husband and wife sat + side by side without speaking. He was thinking how to begin a + conversation, but she maintained such an obstinately hard look that he did + not venture to make the attempt. At last, however, he cunningly, + accidentally as it were, touched the countess' gloved hand with his own, + but she drew her arm away with a movement which was so expressive of + disgust that he remained thoughtful, in spite of his usual authoritative + and despotic character, and he said: “Gabrielle!” + </p> + <p> + “What do you want?” + </p> + <p> + “I think you are looking adorable.” + </p> + <p> + She did not reply, but remained lying back in the carriage, looking like + an irritated queen. By that time they were driving up the Champs Elysees, + toward the Arc de Triomphe. That immense monument, at the end of the long + avenue, raised its colossal arch against the red sky and the sun seemed to + be descending on it, showering fiery dust on it from the sky. + </p> + <p> + The stream of carriages, with dashes of sunlight reflected in the silver + trappings of the harness and the glass of the lamps, flowed on in a double + current toward the town and toward the Bois, and the Comte de Mascaret + continued: “My dear Gabrielle!” + </p> + <p> + Unable to control herself any longer, she replied in an exasperated voice: + “Oh! do leave me in peace, pray! I am not even allowed to have my + carriage to myself now.” He pretended not to hear her and continued: + “You never have looked so pretty as you do to-day.” + </p> + <p> + Her patience had come to an end, and she replied with irrepressible anger: + “You are wrong to notice it, for I swear to you that I will never + have anything to do with you in that way again.” + </p> + <p> + The count was decidedly stupefied and upset, and, his violent nature + gaining the upper hand, he exclaimed: “What do you mean by that?” + in a tone that betrayed rather the brutal master than the lover. She + replied in a low voice, so that the servants might not hear amid the + deafening noise of the wheels: “Ah! What do I mean by that? What do + I mean by that? Now I recognize you again! Do you want me to tell + everything?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Everything that has weighed on my heart since I have been the + victim of your terrible selfishness?” + </p> + <p> + He had grown red with surprise and anger and he growled between his closed + teeth: “Yes, tell me everything.” + </p> + <p> + He was a tall, broad-shouldered man, with a big red beard, a handsome man, + a nobleman, a man of the world, who passed as a perfect husband and an + excellent father, and now, for the first time since they had started, she + turned toward him and looked him full in the face: “Ah! You will + hear some disagreeable things, but you must know that I am prepared for + everything, that I fear nothing, and you less than any one to-day.” + </p> + <p> + He also was looking into her eyes and was already shaking with rage as he + said in a low voice: “You are mad.” + </p> + <p> + “No, but I will no longer be the victim of the hateful penalty of + maternity, which you have inflicted on me for eleven years! I wish to take + my place in society as I have the right to do, as all women have the right + to do.” + </p> + <p> + He suddenly grew pale again and stammered: “I do not understand you.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! yes; you understand me well enough. It is now three months + since I had my last child, and as I am still very beautiful, and as, in + spite of all your efforts you cannot spoil my figure, as you just now + perceived, when you saw me on the doorstep, you think it is time that I + should think of having another child.” + </p> + <p> + “But you are talking nonsense!” + </p> + <p> + “No, I am not, I am thirty, and I have had seven children, and we + have been married eleven years, and you hope that this will go on for ten + years longer, after which you will leave off being jealous.” + </p> + <p> + He seized her arm and squeezed it, saying: “I will not allow you to + talk to me like that much longer.” + </p> + <p> + “And I shall talk to you till the end, until I have finished all I + have to say to you, and if you try to prevent me, I shall raise my voice + so that the two servants, who are on the box, may hear. I only allowed you + to come with me for that object, for I have these witnesses who will + oblige you to listen to me and to contain yourself, so now pay attention + to what I say. I have always felt an antipathy to you, and I have always + let you see it, for I have never lied, monsieur. You married me in spite + of myself; you forced my parents, who were in embarrassed circumstances, + to give me to you, because you were rich, and they obliged me to marry you + in spite of my tears. + </p> + <p> + “So you bought me, and as soon as I was in your power, as soon as I + had become your companion, ready to attach myself to you, to forget your + coercive and threatening proceedings, in order that I might only remember + that I ought to be a devoted wife and to love you as much as it might be + possible for me to love you, you became jealous, you, as no man has ever + been before, with the base, ignoble jealousy of a spy, which was as + degrading to you as it was to me. I had not been married eight months when + you suspected me of every perfidiousness, and you even told me so. What a + disgrace! And as you could not prevent me from being beautiful and from + pleasing people, from being called in drawing-rooms and also in the + newspapers one of the most beautiful women in Paris, you tried everything + you could think of to keep admirers from me, and you hit upon the + abominable idea of making me spend my life in a constant state of + motherhood, until the time should come when I should disgust every man. + Oh, do not deny it. I did not understand it for some time, but then I + guessed it. You even boasted about it to your sister, who told me of it, + for she is fond of me and was disgusted at your boorish coarseness. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! Remember how you have behaved in the past! How for eleven years + you have compelled me to give up all society and simply be a mother to + your children. And then you would grow disgusted with me and I was sent + into the country, the family chateau, among fields and meadows. And when I + reappeared, fresh, pretty and unspoiled, still seductive and constantly + surrounded by admirers, hoping that at last I should live a little more + like a rich young society woman, you were seized with jealousy again, and + you began once more to persecute me with that infamous and hateful desire + from which you are suffering at this moment by my side. And it is not the + desire of possessing me—for I should never have refused myself to + you, but it is the wish to make me unsightly. + </p> + <p> + “And then that abominable and mysterious thing occurred which I was + a long time in understanding (but I grew sharp by dint of watching your + thoughts and actions): You attached yourself to your children with all the + security which they gave you while I bore them. You felt affection for + them, with all your aversion to me, and in spite of your ignoble fears, + which were momentarily allayed by your pleasure in seeing me lose my + symmetry. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! how often have I noticed that joy in you! I have seen it in + your eyes and guessed it. You loved your children as victories, and not + because they were of your own blood. They were victories over me, over my + youth, over my beauty, over my charms, over the compliments which were + paid me and over those that were whispered around me without being paid to + me personally. And you are proud of them, you make a parade of them, you + take them out for drives in your break in the Bois de Boulogne and you + give them donkey rides at Montmorency. You take them to theatrical + matinees so that you may be seen in the midst of them, so that the people + may say: 'What a kind father' and that it may be repeated——” + </p> + <p> + He had seized her wrist with savage brutality, and he squeezed it so + violently that she was quiet and nearly cried out with the pain and he + said to her in a whisper: + </p> + <p> + “I love my children, do you hear? What you have just told me is + disgraceful in a mother. But you belong to me; I am master—your + master—I can exact from you what I like and when I like—and I + have the law-on my side.” + </p> + <p> + He was trying to crush her fingers in the strong grip of his large, + muscular hand, and she, livid with pain, tried in vain to free them from + that vise which was crushing them. The agony made her breathe hard and the + tears came into her eyes. “You see that I am the master and the + stronger,” he said. When he somewhat loosened his grip, she asked + him: “Do you think that I am a religious woman?” + </p> + <p> + He was surprised and stammered “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you think that I could lie if I swore to the truth of anything + to you before an altar on which Christ's body is?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “Will you go with me to some church?” + </p> + <p> + “What for?” + </p> + <p> + “You shall see. Will you?” + </p> + <p> + “If you absolutely wish it, yes.” + </p> + <p> + She raised her voice and said: “Philippe!” And the coachman, + bending down a little, without taking his eyes from his horses, seemed to + turn his ear alone toward his mistress, who continued: “Drive to St. + Philippe-du-Roule.” And the victoria, which had reached the entrance + of the Bois de Boulogne returned to Paris. + </p> + <p> + Husband and wife did not exchange a word further during the drive, and + when the carriage stopped before the church Madame de Mascaret jumped out + and entered it, followed by the count, a few yards distant. She went, + without stopping, as far as the choir-screen, and falling on her knees at + a chair, she buried her face in her hands. She prayed for a long time, and + he, standing behind her could see that she was crying. She wept + noiselessly, as women weep when they are in great, poignant grief. There + was a kind of undulation in her body, which ended in a little sob, which + was hidden and stifled by her fingers. + </p> + <p> + But the Comte de Mascaret thought that the situation was lasting too long, + and he touched her on the shoulder. That contact recalled her to herself, + as if she had been burned, and getting up, she looked straight into his + eyes. “This is what I have to say to you. I am afraid of nothing, + whatever you may do to me. You may kill me if you like. One of your + children is not yours, and one only; that I swear to you before God, who + hears me here. That was the only revenge that was possible for me in + return for all your abominable masculine tyrannies, in return for the + penal servitude of childbearing to which you have condemned me. Who was my + lover? That you never will know! You may suspect every one, but you never + will find out. I gave myself to him, without love and without pleasure, + only for the sake of betraying you, and he also made me a mother. Which is + the child? That also you never will know. I have seven; try to find out! I + intended to tell you this later, for one has not avenged oneself on a man + by deceiving him, unless he knows it. You have driven me to confess it + today. I have now finished.” + </p> + <p> + She hurried through the church toward the open door, expecting to hear + behind her the quick step: of her husband whom she had defied and to be + knocked to the ground by a blow of his fist, but she heard nothing and + reached her carriage. She jumped into it at a bound, overwhelmed with + anguish and breathless with fear. So she called out to the coachman: + “Home!” and the horses set off at a quick trot. + </p> + <p> + II + </p> + <p> + The Comtesse de Mascaret was waiting in her room for dinner time as a + criminal sentenced to death awaits the hour of his execution. What was her + husband going to do? Had he come home? Despotic, passionate, ready for any + violence as he was, what was he meditating, what had he made up his mind + to do? There was no sound in the house, and every moment she looked at the + clock. Her lady's maid had come and dressed her for the evening and had + then left the room again. Eight o'clock struck and almost at the same + moment there were two knocks at the door, and the butler came in and + announced dinner. + </p> + <p> + “Has the count come in?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Madame la Comtesse. He is in the diningroom.” + </p> + <p> + For a little moment she felt inclined to arm herself with a small revolver + which she had bought some time before, foreseeing the tragedy which was + being rehearsed in her heart. But she remembered that all the children + would be there, and she took nothing except a bottle of smelling salts. He + rose somewhat ceremoniously from his chair. They exchanged a slight bow + and sat down. The three boys with their tutor, Abbe Martin, were on her + right and the three girls, with Miss Smith, their English governess, were + on her left. The youngest child, who was only three months old, remained + upstairs with his nurse. + </p> + <p> + The abbe said grace as usual when there was no company, for the children + did not come down to dinner when guests were present. Then they began + dinner. The countess, suffering from emotion, which she had not calculated + upon, remained with her eyes cast down, while the count scrutinized now + the three boys and now the three girls with an uncertain, unhappy + expression, which travelled from one to the other. Suddenly pushing his + wineglass from him, it broke, and the wine was spilt on the tablecloth, + and at the slight noise caused by this little accident the countess + started up from her chair; and for the first time they looked at each + other. Then, in spite of themselves, in spite of the irritation of their + nerves caused by every glance, they continued to exchange looks, rapid as + pistol shots. + </p> + <p> + The abbe, who felt that there was some cause for embarrassment which he + could not divine, attempted to begin a conversation and tried various + subjects, but his useless efforts gave rise to no ideas and did not bring + out a word. The countess, with feminine tact and obeying her instincts of + a woman of the world, attempted to answer him two or three times, but in + vain. She could not find words, in the perplexity of her mind, and her own + voice almost frightened her in the silence of the large room, where + nothing was heard except the slight sound of plates and knives and forks. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly her husband said to her, bending forward: “Here, amid your + children, will you swear to me that what you told me just now is true?” + </p> + <p> + The hatred which was fermenting in her veins suddenly roused her, and + replying to that question with the same firmness with which she had + replied to his looks, she raised both her hands, the right pointing toward + the boys and the left toward the girls, and said in a firm, resolute voice + and without any hesitation: “On the head of my children, I swear + that I have told you the truth.” + </p> + <p> + He got up and throwing his table napkin on the table with a movement of + exasperation, he turned round and flung his chair against the wall, and + then went out without another word, while she, uttering a deep sigh, as if + after a first victory, went on in a calm voice: “You must not pay + any attention to what your father has just said, my darlings; he was very + much upset a short time ago, but he will be all right again in a few days.” + </p> + <p> + Then she talked with the abbe and Miss Smith and had tender, pretty words + for all her children, those sweet, tender mother's ways which unfold + little hearts. + </p> + <p> + When dinner was over she went into the drawing-room, all her children + following her. She made the elder ones chatter, and when their bedtime + came she kissed them for a long time and then went alone into her room. + </p> + <p> + She waited, for she had no doubt that the count would come, and she made + up her mind then, as her children were not with her, to protect herself as + a woman of the world as she would protect her life, and in the pocket of + her dress she put the little loaded revolver which she had bought a few + days previously. The hours went by, the hours struck, and every sound was + hushed in the house. Only the cabs, continued to rumble through the + streets, but their noise was only heard vaguely through the shuttered and + curtained windows. + </p> + <p> + She waited, full of nervous energy, without any fear of him now, ready for + anything, and almost triumphant, for she had found means of torturing him + continually during every moment of his life. + </p> + <p> + But the first gleam of dawn came in through the fringe at the bottom of + her curtain without his having come into her room, and then she awoke to + the fact, with much amazement, that he was not coming. Having locked and + bolted her door, for greater security, she went to bed at last and + remained there, with her eyes open, thinking and barely understanding it + all, without being able to guess what he was going to do. + </p> + <p> + When her maid brought her tea she at the same time handed her a letter + from her husband. He told her that he was going to undertake a longish + journey and in a postscript added that his lawyer would provide her with + any sums of money she might require for all her expenses. + </p> + <p> + III + </p> + <p> + It was at the opera, between two acts of “Robert the Devil.” + In the stalls the men were standing up, with their hats on, their + waistcoats cut very low so as to show a large amount of white shirt front, + in which gold and jewelled studs glistened, and were looking at the boxes + full of ladies in low dresses covered with diamonds and pearls, who were + expanding like flowers in that illuminated hothouse, where the beauty of + their faces and the whiteness of their shoulders seemed to bloom in order + to be gazed at, amid the sound of the music and of human voices. + </p> + <p> + Two friends, with their backs to the orchestra, were scanning those rows + of elegance, that exhibition of real or false charms, of jewels, of luxury + and of pretension which displayed itself in all parts of the Grand + Theatre, and one of them, Roger de Salnis, said to his companion, Bernard + Grandin: + </p> + <p> + “Just look how beautiful the Comtesse de Mascaret still is.” + </p> + <p> + The older man in turn looked through his opera glasses at a tall lady in a + box opposite. She appeared to be still very young, and her striking beauty + seemed to attract all eyes in every corner of the house. Her pale + complexion, of an ivory tint, gave her the appearance of a statue, while a + small diamond coronet glistened on her black hair like a streak of light. + </p> + <p> + When he had looked at her for some time, Bernard Grandin replied with a + jocular accent of sincere conviction: “You may well call her + beautiful!” + </p> + <p> + “How old do you think she is?” + </p> + <p> + “Wait a moment. I can tell you exactly, for I have known her since + she was a child and I saw her make her debut into society when she was + quite a girl. She is—she is—thirty—thirty-six.” + </p> + <p> + “Impossible!” + </p> + <p> + “I am sure of it.” + </p> + <p> + “She looks twenty-five.” + </p> + <p> + “She has had seven children.” + </p> + <p> + “It is incredible.” + </p> + <p> + “And what is more, they are all seven alive, as she is a very good + mother. I occasionally go to the house, which is a very quiet and pleasant + one, where one may see the phenomenon of the family in the midst of + society.” + </p> + <p> + “How very strange! And have there never been any reports about her?” + </p> + <p> + “Never.” + </p> + <p> + “But what about her husband? He is peculiar, is he not?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes and no. Very likely there has been a little drama between them, + one of those little domestic dramas which one suspects, never finds out + exactly, but guesses at pretty closely.” + </p> + <p> + “What is it?” + </p> + <p> + “I do not know anything about it. Mascaret leads a very fast life + now, after being a model husband. As long as he remained a good spouse he + had a shocking temper, was crabbed and easily took offence, but since he + has been leading his present wild life he has become quite different, But + one might surmise that he has some trouble, a worm gnawing somewhere, for + he has aged very much.” + </p> + <p> + Thereupon the two friends talked philosophically for some minutes about + the secret, unknowable troubles which differences of character or perhaps + physical antipathies, which were not perceived at first, give rise to in + families, and then Roger de Salnis, who was still looking at Madame de + Mascaret through his opera glasses, said: “It is almost incredible + that that woman can have had seven children!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, in eleven years; after which, when she was thirty, she refused + to have any more, in order to take her place in society, which she seems + likely to do for many years.” + </p> + <p> + “Poor women!” + </p> + <p> + “Why do you pity them?” + </p> + <p> + “Why? Ah! my dear fellow, just consider! Eleven years in a condition + of motherhood for such a woman! What a hell! All her youth, all her + beauty, every hope of success, every poetical ideal of a brilliant life + sacrificed to that abominable law of reproduction which turns the normal + woman into a mere machine for bringing children into the world.” + </p> + <p> + “What would you have? It is only Nature!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but I say that Nature is our enemy, that we must always fight + against Nature, for she is continually bringing us back to an animal + state. You may be sure that God has not put anything on this earth that is + clean, pretty, elegant or accessory to our ideal; the human brain has done + it. It is man who has introduced a little grace, beauty, unknown charm and + mystery into creation by singing about it, interpreting it, by admiring it + as a poet, idealizing it as an artist and by explaining it through + science, doubtless making mistakes, but finding ingenious reasons, hidden + grace and beauty, unknown charm and mystery in the various phenomena of + Nature. God created only coarse beings, full of the germs of disease, who, + after a few years of bestial enjoyment, grow old and infirm, with all the + ugliness and all the want of power of human decrepitude. He seems to have + made them only in order that they may reproduce their species in an + ignoble manner and then die like ephemeral insects. I said reproduce their + species in an ignoble manner and I adhere to that expression. What is + there as a matter of fact more ignoble and more repugnant than that act of + reproduction of living beings, against which all delicate minds always + have revolted and always will revolt? Since all the organs which have been + invented by this economical and malicious Creator serve two purposes, why + did He not choose another method of performing that sacred mission, which + is the noblest and the most exalted of all human functions? The mouth, + which nourishes the body by means of material food, also diffuses abroad + speech and thought. Our flesh renews itself of its own accord, while we + are thinking about it. The olfactory organs, through which the vital air + reaches the lungs, communicate all the perfumes of the world to the brain: + the smell of flowers, of woods, of trees, of the sea. The ear, which + enables us to communicate with our fellow men, has also allowed us to + invent music, to create dreams, happiness, infinite and even physical + pleasure by means of sound! But one might say that the cynical and cunning + Creator wished to prohibit man from ever ennobling and idealizing his + intercourse with women. Nevertheless man has found love, which is not a + bad reply to that sly Deity, and he has adorned it with so much poetry + that woman often forgets the sensual part of it. Those among us who are + unable to deceive themselves have invented vice and refined debauchery, + which is another way of laughing at God and paying homage, immodest + homage, to beauty. + </p> + <p> + “But the normal man begets children just like an animal coupled with + another by law. + </p> + <p> + “Look at that woman! Is it not abominable to think that such a + jewel, such a pearl, born to be beautiful, admired, feted and adored, has + spent eleven years of her life in providing heirs for the Comte de + Mascaret?” + </p> + <p> + Bernard Grandin replied with a laugh: “There is a great deal of + truth in all that, but very few people would understand you.” + </p> + <p> + Salnis became more and more animated. “Do you know how I picture God + myself?” he said. “As an enormous, creative organ beyond our + ken, who scatters millions of worlds into space, just as one single fish + would deposit its spawn in the sea. He creates because it is His function + as God to do so, but He does not know what He is doing and is stupidly + prolific in His work and is ignorant of the combinations of all kinds + which are produced by His scattered germs. The human mind is a lucky + little local, passing accident which was totally unforeseen, and condemned + to disappear with this earth and to recommence perhaps here or elsewhere + the same or different with fresh combinations of eternally new beginnings. + We owe it to this little lapse of intelligence on His part that we are + very uncomfortable in this world which was not made for us, which had not + been prepared to receive us, to lodge and feed us or to satisfy reflecting + beings, and we owe it to Him also that we have to struggle without ceasing + against what are still called the designs of Providence, when we are + really refined and civilized beings.” + </p> + <p> + Grandin, who was listening to him attentively as he had long known the + surprising outbursts of his imagination, asked him: “Then you + believe that human thought is the spontaneous product of blind divine + generation?” + </p> + <p> + “Naturally! A fortuitous function of the nerve centres of our brain, + like the unforeseen chemical action due to new mixtures and similar also + to a charge of electricity, caused by friction or the unexpected proximity + of some substance, similar to all phenomena caused by the infinite and + fruitful fermentation of living matter. + </p> + <p> + “But, my dear fellow, the truth of this must be evident to any one + who looks about him. If the human mind, ordained by an omniscient Creator, + had been intended to be what it has become, exacting, inquiring, agitated, + tormented—so different from mere animal thought and resignation—would + the world which was created to receive the beings which we now are have + been this unpleasant little park for small game, this salad patch, this + wooded, rocky and spherical kitchen garden where your improvident + Providence had destined us to live naked, in caves or under trees, + nourished on the flesh of slaughtered animals, our brethren, or on raw + vegetables nourished by the sun and the rain? + </p> + <p> + “But it is sufficient to reflect for a moment, in order to + understand that this world was not made for such creatures as we are. + Thought, which is developed by a miracle in the nerves of the cells in our + brain, powerless, ignorant and confused as it is, and as it will always + remain, makes all of us who are intellectual beings eternal and wretched + exiles on earth. + </p> + <p> + “Look at this earth, as God has given it to those who inhabit it. Is + it not visibly and solely made, planted and covered with forests for the + sake of animals? What is there for us? Nothing. And for them, everything, + and they have nothing to do but to eat or go hunting and eat each other, + according to their instincts, for God never foresaw gentleness and + peaceable manners; He only foresaw the death of creatures which were bent + on destroying and devouring each other. Are not the quail, the pigeon and + the partridge the natural prey of the hawk? the sheep, the stag and the ox + that of the great flesh-eating animals, rather than meat to be fattened + and served up to us with truffles, which have been unearthed by pigs for + our special benefit? + </p> + <p> + “As to ourselves, the more civilized, intellectual and refined we + are, the more we ought to conquer and subdue that animal instinct, which + represents the will of God in us. And so, in order to mitigate our lot as + brutes, we have discovered and made everything, beginning with houses, + then exquisite food, sauces, sweetmeats, pastry, drink, stuffs, clothes, + ornaments, beds, mattresses, carriages, railways and innumerable machines, + besides arts and sciences, writing and poetry. Every ideal comes from us + as do all the amenities of life, in order to make our existence as simple + reproducers, for which divine Providence solely intended us, less + monotonous and less hard. + </p> + <p> + “Look at this theatre. Is there not here a human world created by + us, unforeseen and unknown to eternal fate, intelligible to our minds + alone, a sensual and intellectual distraction, which has been invented + solely by and for that discontented and restless little animal, man? + </p> + <p> + “Look at that woman, Madame de Mascaret. God intended her to live in + a cave, naked or wrapped up in the skins of wild animals. But is she not + better as she is? But, speaking of her, does any one know why and how her + brute of a husband, having such a companion by his side, and especially + after having been boorish enough to make her a mother seven times, has + suddenly left her, to run after bad women?” + </p> + <p> + Grandin replied: “Oh! my dear fellow, this is probably the only + reason. He found that raising a family was becoming too expensive, and + from reasons of domestic economy he has arrived at the same principles + which you lay down as a philosopher.” + </p> + <p> + Just then the curtain rose for the third act, and they turned round, took + off their hats and sat down. + </p> + <p> + IV + </p> + <p> + The Comte and Comtesse Mascaret were sitting side by side in the carriage + which was taking them home from the Opera, without speaking but suddenly + the husband said to his wife: “Gabrielle!” + </p> + <p> + “What do you want?” + </p> + <p> + “Don't you think that this has lasted long enough?” + </p> + <p> + “What?” + </p> + <p> + “The horrible punishment to which you have condemned me for the last + six years?” + </p> + <p> + “What do you want? I cannot help it.” + </p> + <p> + “Then tell me which of them it is.” + </p> + <p> + “Never.” + </p> + <p> + “Think that I can no longer see my children or feel them round me, + without having my heart burdened with this doubt. Tell me which of them it + is, and I swear that I will forgive you and treat it like the others.” + </p> + <p> + “I have not the right to do so.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you not see that I can no longer endure this life, this thought + which is wearing me out, or this question which I am constantly asking + myself, this question which tortures me each time I look at them? It is + driving me mad.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you have suffered a great deal?” she said. + </p> + <p> + “Terribly. Should I, without that, have accepted the horror of + living by your side, and the still greater horror of feeling and knowing + that there is one among them whom I cannot recognize and who prevents me + from loving the others?” + </p> + <p> + “Then you have really suffered very much?” she repeated. + </p> + <p> + And he replied in a constrained and sorrowful voice: + </p> + <p> + “Yes, for do I not tell you every day that it is intolerable torture + to me? Should I have remained in that house, near you and them, if I did + not love them? Oh! You have behaved abominably toward me. All the + affection of my heart I have bestowed upon my children, and that you know. + I am for them a father of the olden time, as I was for you a husband of + one of the families of old, for by instinct I have remained a natural man, + a man of former days. Yes, I will confess it, you have made me terribly + jealous, because you are a woman of another race, of another soul, with + other requirements. Oh! I shall never forget the things you said to me, + but from that day I troubled myself no more about you. I did not kill you, + because then I should have had no means on earth of ever discovering which + of our—of your children is not mine. I have waited, but I have + suffered more than you would believe, for I can no longer venture to love + them, except, perhaps, the two eldest; I no longer venture to look at + them, to call them to me, to kiss them; I cannot take them on my knee + without asking myself, 'Can it be this one?' I have been correct in my + behavior toward you for six years, and even kind and complaisant. Tell me + the truth, and I swear that I will do nothing unkind.” + </p> + <p> + He thought, in spite of the darkness of the carriage, that he could + perceive that she was moved, and feeling certain that she was going to + speak at last, he said: “I beg you, I beseech you to tell me” + he said. + </p> + <p> + “I have been more guilty than you think perhaps,” she replied, + “but I could no longer endure that life of continual motherhood, and + I had only one means of driving you from me. I lied before God and I lied, + with my hand raised to my children's head, for I never have wronged you.” + </p> + <p> + He seized her arm in the darkness, and squeezing it as he had done on that + terrible day of their drive in the Bois de Boulogne, he stammered: + </p> + <p> + “Is that true?” + </p> + <p> + “It is true.” + </p> + <p> + But, wild with grief, he said with a groan: “I shall have fresh + doubts that will never end! When did you lie, the last time or now? How am + I to believe you at present? How can one believe a woman after that? I + shall never again know what I am to think. I would rather you had said to + me, 'It is Jacques or it is Jeanne.'” + </p> + <p> + The carriage drove into the courtyard of the house and when it had drawn + up in front of the steps the count alighted first, as usual, and offered + his wife his arm to mount the stairs. As soon as they reached the first + floor he said: “May I speak to you for a few moments longer?” + And she replied, “I am quite willing.” + </p> + <p> + They went into a small drawing-room and a footman, in some surprise, + lighted the wax candles. As soon as he had left the room and they were + alone the count continued: “How am I to know the truth? I have + begged you a thousand times to speak, but you have remained dumb, + impenetrable, inflexible, inexorable, and now to-day you tell me that you + have been lying. For six years you have actually allowed me to believe + such a thing! No, you are lying now, I do not know why, but out of pity + for me, perhaps?” + </p> + <p> + She replied in a sincere and convincing manner: “If I had not done + so, I should have had four more children in the last six years!” + </p> + <p> + “Can a mother speak like that?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” she replied, “I do not feel that I am the mother + of children who never have been born; it is enough for me to be the mother + of those that I have and to love them with all my heart. I am a woman of + the civilized world, monsieur—we all are—and we are no longer, + and we refuse to be, mere females to restock the earth.” + </p> + <p> + She got up, but he seized her hands. “Only one word, Gabrielle. Tell + me the truth!” + </p> + <p> + “I have just told you. I never have dishonored you.” + </p> + <p> + He looked her full in the face, and how beautiful she was, with her gray + eyes, like the cold sky. In her dark hair sparkled the diamond coronet, + like a radiance. He suddenly felt, felt by a kind of intuition, that this + grand creature was not merely a being destined to perpetuate the race, but + the strange and mysterious product of all our complicated desires which + have been accumulating in us for centuries but which have been turned + aside from their primitive and divine object and have wandered after a + mystic, imperfectly perceived and intangible beauty. There are some women + like that, who blossom only for our dreams, adorned with every poetical + attribute of civilization, with that ideal luxury, coquetry and esthetic + charm which surround woman, a living statue that brightens our life. + </p> + <p> + Her husband remained standing before her, stupefied at his tardy and + obscure discovery, confusedly hitting on the cause of his former jealousy + and understanding it all very imperfectly, and at last he said: “I + believe you, for I feel at this moment that you are not lying, and before + I really thought that you were.” + </p> + <p> + She put out her hand to him: “We are friends then?” + </p> + <p> + He took her hand and kissed it and replied: “We are friends. Thank + you, Gabrielle.” + </p> + <p> + Then he went out, still looking at her, and surprised that she was still + so beautiful and feeling a strange emotion arising in him. + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0080"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + THE FATHER + </h2> + <div class='ph3'> + I + </div> + <p> + He was a clerk in the Bureau of Public Education and lived at Batignolles. + He took the omnibus to Paris every morning and always sat opposite a girl, + with whom he fell in love. + </p> + <p> + She was employed in a shop and went in at the same time every day. She was + a little brunette, one of those girls whose eyes are so dark that they + look like black spots, on a complexion like ivory. He always saw her + coming at the corner of the same street, and she generally had to run to + catch the heavy vehicle, and sprang upon the steps before the horses had + quite stopped. Then she got inside, out of breath, and, sitting down, + looked round her. + </p> + <p> + The first time that he saw her, Francois Tessier liked the face. One + sometimes meets a woman whom one longs to clasp in one's arms without even + knowing her. That girl seemed to respond to some chord in his being, to + that sort of ideal of love which one cherishes in the depths of the heart, + without knowing it. + </p> + <p> + He looked at her intently, not meaning to be rude, and she became + embarrassed and blushed. He noticed it, and tried to turn away his eyes; + but he involuntarily fixed them upon her again every moment, although he + tried to look in another direction; and, in a few days, they seemed to + know each other without having spoken. He gave up his place to her when + the omnibus was full, and got outside, though he was very sorry to do it. + By this time she had got so far as to greet him with a little smile; and, + although she always dropped her eyes under his looks, which she felt were + too ardent, yet she did not appear offended at being looked at in such a + manner. + </p> + <p> + They ended by speaking. A kind of rapid friendship had become established + between them, a daily freemasonry of half an hour, and that was certainly + one of the most charming half hours in his life to him. He thought of her + all the rest of the day, saw her image continually during the long office + hours. He was haunted and bewitched by that floating and yet tenacious + recollection which the form of a beloved woman leaves in us, and it seemed + to him that if he could win that little person it would be maddening + happiness to him, almost above human realization. + </p> + <p> + Every morning she now shook hands with him, and he preserved the sense of + that touch and the recollection of the gentle pressure of her little + fingers until the next day, and he almost fancied that he preserved the + imprint on his palm. He anxiously waited for this short omnibus ride, + while Sundays seemed to him heartbreaking days. However, there was no + doubt that she loved him, for one Saturday, in spring, she promised to go + and lunch with him at Maisons-Laffitte the next day. + </p> + <p> + II + </p> + <p> + She was at the railway station first, which surprised him, but she said: + “Before going, I want to speak to you. We have twenty minutes, and + that is more than I shall take for what I have to say.” + </p> + <p> + She trembled as she hung on his arm, and looked down, her cheeks pale, as + she continued: “I do not want you to be deceived in me, and I shall + not go there with you, unless you promise, unless you swear—not to + do—not to do anything—that is at all improper.” + </p> + <p> + She had suddenly become as red as a poppy, and said no more. He did not + know what to reply, for he was happy and disappointed at the same time. He + should love her less, certainly, if he knew that her conduct was light, + but then it would be so charming, so delicious to have a little + flirtation. + </p> + <p> + As he did not say anything, she began to speak again in an agitated voice + and with tears in her eyes. “If you do not promise to respect me + altogether, I shall return home.” And so he squeezed her arm + tenderly and replied: “I promise, you shall only do what you like.” + She appeared relieved in mind, and asked, with a smile: “Do you + really mean it?” And he looked into her eyes and replied: “I + swear it” “Now you may take the tickets,” she said. + </p> + <p> + During the journey they could hardly speak, as the carriage was full, and + when they reached Maisons-Laffite they went toward the Seine. The sun, + which shone full on the river, on the leaves and the grass, seemed to be + reflected in their hearts, and they went, hand in hand, along the bank, + looking at the shoals of little fish swimming near the bank, and they + walked on, brimming over with happiness, as if they were walking on air. + </p> + <p> + At last she said: “How foolish you must think me!” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” he asked. “To come out like this, all alone with + you.” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly not; it is quite natural.” “No, no; it is not + natural for me —because I do not wish to commit a fault, and yet + this is how girls fall. But if you only knew how wretched it is, every day + the same thing, every day in the month and every month in the year. I live + quite alone with mamma, and as she has had a great deal of trouble, she is + not very cheerful. I do the best I can, and try to laugh in spite of + everything, but I do not always succeed. But, all the same, it was wrong + in me to come, though you, at any rate, will not be sorry.” + </p> + <p> + By way of an answer, he kissed her ardently on the ear that was nearest + him, but she moved from him with an abrupt movement, and, getting suddenly + angry, exclaimed: “Oh! Monsieur Francois, after what you swore to + me!” And they went back to Maisons-Laffitte. + </p> + <p> + They had lunch at the Petit-Havre, a low house, buried under four enormous + poplar trees, by the side of the river. The air, the heat, the weak white + wine and the sensation of being so close together made them silent; their + faces were flushed and they had a feeling of oppression; but, after the + coffee, they regained their high spirits, and, having crossed the Seine, + started off along the bank, toward the village of La Frette. Suddenly he + asked: “What-is your name?” + </p> + <p> + “Louise.” + </p> + <p> + “Louise,” he repeated and said nothing more. + </p> + <p> + The girl picked daisies and made them into a great bunch, while he sang + vigorously, as unrestrained as a colt that has been turned into a meadow. + On their left a vine-covered slope followed the river. Francois stopped + motionless with astonishment: “Oh, look there!” he said. + </p> + <p> + The vines had come to an end, and the whole slope was covered with lilac + bushes in flower. It was a purple wood! A kind of great carpet of flowers + stretched over the earth, reaching as far as the village, more than two + miles off. She also stood, surprised and delighted, and murmured: “Oh! + how pretty!” And, crossing a meadow, they ran toward that curious + low hill, which, every year, furnishes all the lilac that is drawn through + Paris on the carts of the flower venders. + </p> + <p> + There was a narrow path beneath the trees, so they took it, and when they + came to a small clearing, sat down. + </p> + <p> + Swarms of flies were buzzing around them and making a continuous, gentle + sound, and the sun, the bright sun of a perfectly still day, shone over + the bright slopes and from that forest of blossoms a powerful fragrance + was borne toward them, a breath of perfume, the breath of the flowers. + </p> + <p> + A church clock struck in the distance, and they embraced gently, then, + without the knowledge of anything but that kiss, lay down on the grass. + But she soon came to herself with the feeling of a great misfortune, and + began to cry and sob with grief, with her face buried in her hands. + </p> + <p> + He tried to console her, but she wanted to start to return and to go home + immediately; and she kept saying, as she walked along quickly: “Good + heavens! good heavens!” + </p> + <p> + He said to her: “Louise! Louise! Please let us stop here.” But + now her cheeks were red and her eyes hollow, and, as soon as they got to + the railway station in Paris, she left him without even saying good-by. + III + </p> + <p> + When he met her in the omnibus, next day, she appeared to him to be + changed and thinner, and she said to him: “I want to speak to you; + we will get down at the Boulevard.” + </p> + <p> + As soon as they were on the pavement, she said: + </p> + <p> + “We must bid each other good-by; I cannot meet you again.” + “But why?” he asked. “Because I cannot; I have been + culpable, and I will not be so again.” + </p> + <p> + Then he implored her, tortured by his love, but she replied firmly: + “No, I cannot, I cannot.” He, however, only grew all the more + excited and promised to marry her, but she said again: “No,” + and left him. + </p> + <p> + For a week he did not see her. He could not manage to meet her, and, as he + did not know her address, he thought that he had lost her altogether. On + the ninth day, however, there was a ring at his bell, and when he opened + the door, she was there. She threw herself into his arms and did not + resist any longer, and for three months they were close friends. He was + beginning to grow tired of her, when she whispered something to him, and + then he had one idea and wish: to break with her at any price. As, + however, he could not do that, not knowing how to begin, or what to say, + full of anxiety through fear of the consequences of his rash indiscretion, + he took a decisive step: one night he changed his lodgings and + disappeared. + </p> + <p> + The blow was so heavy that she did not look, for the man who had abandoned + her, but threw herself at her mother's knees and confessed her misfortune, + and, some months after, gave birth to a boy. IV + </p> + <p> + Years passed, and Francois Tessier grew old, without there having been any + alteration in his life. He led the dull, monotonous life of an office + clerk, without hope and without expectation. Every day he got up at the + same time, went through the same streets, went through the same door, past + the same porter, went into the same office, sat in the same chair, and did + the same work. He was alone in the world, alone during the day in the + midst of his different colleagues, and alone at night in his bachelor's + lodgings, and he laid by a hundred francs a month against old age. + </p> + <p> + Every Sunday he went to the Champs-Elysees, to watch the elegant people, + the carriages and the pretty women, and the next day he used to say to one + of his colleagues: “The return of the carriages from the Bois du + Boulogne was very brilliant yesterday.” One fine Sunday morning, + however, he went into the Parc Monceau, where the mothers and nurses, + sitting on the sides of the walks, watched the children playing, and + suddenly Francois Tessier started. A woman passed by, holding two children + by the hand, a little boy of about ten and a little girl of four. It was + she! + </p> + <p> + He walked another hundred yards anti then fell into a chair, choking with + emotion. She had not recognized him, and so he came back, wishing to see + her again. She was sitting down now, and the boy was standing by her side + very quietly, while the little girl was making sand castles. It was she, + it was certainly she, but she had the reserved appearance of a lady, was + dressed simply, and looked self-possessed and dignified. He looked at her + from a distance, for he did not venture to go near; but the little boy + raised his head, and Francois Tessier felt himself tremble. It was his own + son, there could be no doubt of that. And, as he looked at him, he thought + he could recognize himself as he appeared in an old photograph taken years + ago. He remained hidden behind a tree, waiting for her to go that he might + follow her. + </p> + <p> + He did not sleep that night. The idea of the child especially tormented + him. His son! Oh, if he could only have known, have been sure! But what + could he have done? However, he went to the house where she lived and + asked about her. He was told that a neighbor, an honorable man of strict + morals, had been touched by her distress and had married her; he knew the + fault she had committed and had married her, and had even recognized the + child, his, Francois Tessier's child, as his own. + </p> + <p> + He returned to the Parc Monceau every Sunday, for then he always saw her, + and each time he was seized with a mad, an irresistible longing to take + his son into his arms, to cover him with kisses and to steal him, to carry + him off. + </p> + <p> + He suffered horribly in his wretched isolation as an old bachelor, with + nobody to care for him, and he also suffered atrocious mental torture, + torn by paternal tenderness springing from remorse, longing and jealousy + and from that need of loving one's own children which nature has implanted + in all. At last he determined to make a despairing attempt, and, going up + to her, as she entered the park, he said, standing in the middle of the + path, pale and with trembling lips: “You do not recognize me.” + She raised her eyes, looked at him, uttered an exclamation of horror, of + terror, and, taking the two children by the hand, she rushed away, + dragging them after her, while he went home and wept inconsolably. + </p> + <p> + Months passed without his seeing her again, but he suffered, day and + night, for he was a prey to his paternal love. He would gladly have died, + if he could only have kissed his son; he would have committed murder, + performed any task, braved any danger, ventured anything. He wrote to her, + but she did not reply, and, after writing her some twenty letters, he saw + that there was no hope of altering her determination, and then he formed + the desperate resolution of writing to her husband, being quite prepared + to receive a bullet from a revolver, if need be. His letter only consisted + of a few lines, as follows: + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur: You must have a perfect horror of my name, but I am so + wretched, so overcome by misery that my only hope is in you, and, + therefore, I venture to request you to grant me an interview of only five + minutes. + </p> + <p> + “I have the honor, etc.” + </p> + <p> + The next day he received the reply: + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur: I shall expect you to-morrow, Tuesday, at five o'clock.” + </p> + <p> + As he went up the staircase, Francois Tessier's heart beat so violently + that he had to stop several times. There was a dull and violent thumping + noise in his breast, as of some animal galloping; and he could breathe + only with difficulty, and had to hold on to the banisters, in order not to + fall. + </p> + <p> + He rang the bell on the third floor, and when a maid servant had opened + the door, he asked: “Does Monsieur Flamel live here?” “Yes, + monsieur. Kindly come in.” + </p> + <p> + He was shown into the drawing-room; he was alone, and waited, feeling + bewildered, as in the midst of a catastrophe, until a door opened, and a + man came in. He was tall, serious and rather stout, and wore a black frock + coat, and pointed to a chair with his hand. Francois Tessier sat down, and + then said, with choking breath: “Monsieur—monsieur—I do + not know whether you know my name—whether you know——” + </p> + <p> + Monsieur Flamel interrupted him. “You need not tell it me, monsieur, + I know it. My wife has spoken to me about you.” He spoke in the + dignified tone of voice of a good man who wishes to be severe, and with + the commonplace stateliness of an honorable man, and Francois Tessier + continued: + </p> + <p> + “Well, monsieur, I want to say this: I am dying of grief, of + remorse, of shame, and I would like once, only once to kiss the child.” + </p> + <p> + Monsieur Flamel got up and rang the bell, and when the servant came in, he + said: “Will you bring Louis here?” When she had gone out, they + remained face to face, without speaking, as they had nothing more to say + to one another, and waited. Then, suddenly, a little boy of ten rushed + into the room and ran up to the man whom he believed to be his father, but + he stopped when he saw the stranger, and Monsieur Flamel kissed him and + said: “Now, go and kiss that gentleman, my dear.” And the + child went up to the stranger and looked at him. + </p> + <p> + Francois Tessier had risen. He let his hat fall, and was ready to fall + himself as he looked at his son, while Monsieur Flamel had turned away, + from a feeling of delicacy, and was looking out of the window. + </p> + <p> + The child waited in surprise; but he picked up the hat and gave it to the + stranger. Then Francois, taking the child up in his arms, began to kiss + him wildly all over his face; on his eyes, his cheeks, his mouth, his + hair; and the youngster, frightened at the shower of kisses, tried to + avoid them, turned away his head, and pushed away the man's face with his + little hands. But suddenly Francois Tessier put him down and cried: + “Good-by! good-by!” And he rushed out of the room as if he had + been a thief. + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0081"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + MY UNCLE SOSTHENES + </h2> + <p> + Some people are Freethinkers from sheer stupidity. My Uncle Sosthenes was + one of these. Some people are often religious for the same reason. The + very sight of a priest threw my uncle into a violent rage. He would shake + his fist and make grimaces at him, and would then touch a piece of iron + when the priest's back was turned, forgetting that the latter action + showed a belief after all, the belief in the evil eye. Now, when beliefs + are unreasonable, one should have all or none at all. I myself am a + Freethinker; I revolt at all dogmas, but feel no anger toward places of + worship, be they Catholic, Apostolic, Roman, Protestant, Greek, Russian, + Buddhist, Jewish, or Mohammedan. + </p> + <p> + My uncle was a Freemason, and I used to declare that they are stupider + than old women devotees. That is my opinion, and I maintain it; if we must + have any religion at all, the old one is good enough for me. + </p> + <p> + What is their object? Mutual help to be obtained by tickling the palms of + each other's hands. I see no harm in it, for they put into practice the + Christian precept: “Do unto others as ye would they should do unto + you.” The only difference consists in the tickling, but it does not + seem worth while to make such a fuss about lending a poor devil half a + crown. + </p> + <p> + To all my arguments my uncle's reply used to be: + </p> + <p> + “We are raising up a religion against a religion; Free Thought will + kill clericalism. Freemasonry is the stronghold, of those who are + demolishing all deities.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well, my dear uncle,” I would reply—in my heart I + felt inclined to say, “You old idiot! it is just that which I am + blaming you for. Instead of destroying, you are organizing competition; it + is only a case of lowering prices. And then, if you admitted only + Freethinkers among you, I could understand it, but you admit anybody. You + have a number of Catholics among you, even the leaders of the party. Pius + IX is said to have been one of you before he became pope. If you call a + society with such an organization a bulwark against clericalism, I think + it is an extremely weak one.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear boy,” my uncle would reply, with a wink, “we + are most to be dreaded in politics; slowly and surely we are everywhere + undermining the monarchical spirit.” + </p> + <p> + Then I broke out: “Yes, you are very clever! If you tell me that + Freemasonry is an election machine, I will grant it. I will never deny + that it is used as a machine to control candidates of all shades; if you + say that it is only used to hoodwink people, to drill them to go to the + polls as soldiers are sent under fire, I agree with you; if you declare + that it is indispensable to all political ambitions because it changes all + its members into electoral agents, I should say to you: 'That is as clear + as the sun.' But when you tell me that it serves to undermine the + monarchical spirit, I can only laugh in your face. + </p> + <p> + “Just consider that gigantic and secret democratic association which + had Prince Napoleon for its grand master under the Empire; which has the + Crown Prince for its grand master in Germany, the Czar's brother in + Russia, and to which the Prince of Wales and King Humbert, and nearly all + the crowned heads of the globe belong.” + </p> + <p> + “You are quite right,” my uncle said; “but all these + persons are serving our projects without guessing it.” + </p> + <p> + I felt inclined to tell him he was talking a pack of nonsense. + </p> + <p> + It was, however, indeed a sight to see my uncle when he had a Freemason to + dinner. + </p> + <p> + On meeting they shook hands in a manner that was irresistibly funny; one + could see that they were going through a series of secret, mysterious + signs. + </p> + <p> + Then my uncle would take his friend into a corner to tell him something + important, and at dinner they had a peculiar way of looking at each other, + and of drinking to each other, in a manner as if to say: “We know + all about it, don't we?” + </p> + <p> + And to think that there are millions on the face of the globe who are + amused at such monkey tricks! I would sooner be a Jesuit. + </p> + <p> + Now, in our town there really was an old Jesuit who was my uncle's + detestation. Every time he met him, or if he only saw him at a distance, + he used to say: “Get away, you toad.” And then, taking my arm, + he would whisper to me: + </p> + <p> + “See here, that fellow will play me a trick some day or other, I + feel sure of it.” + </p> + <p> + My uncle spoke quite truly, and this was how it happened, and through my + fault. + </p> + <p> + It was close on Holy Week, and my uncle made up his mind to give a dinner + on Good Friday, a real dinner, with his favorite chitterlings and black + puddings. I resisted as much as I could, and said: + </p> + <p> + “I shall eat meat on that day, but at home, quite by myself. Your + manifestation, as you call it, is an idiotic idea. Why should you + manifest? What does it matter to you if people do not eat any meat?” + </p> + <p> + But my uncle would not be persuaded. He asked three of his friends to dine + with him at one of the best restaurants in the town, and as he was going + to pay the bill I had certainly, after all, no scruples about manifesting. + </p> + <p> + At four o'clock we took a conspicuous place in the most frequented + restaurant in the town, and my uncle ordered dinner in a loud voice for + six o'clock. + </p> + <p> + We sat down punctually, and at ten o'clock we had not yet finished. Five + of us had drunk eighteen bottles of choice, still wine and four of + champagne. Then my uncle proposed what he was in the habit of calling + “the archbishop's circuit.” Each man put six small glasses in + front of him, each of them filled with a different liqueur, and they had + all to be emptied at one gulp, one after another, while one of the waiters + counted twenty. It was very stupid, but my uncle thought it was very + suitable to the occasion. + </p> + <p> + At eleven o'clock he was as drunk as a fly. So we had to take him home in + a cab and put him to bed, and one could easily foresee that his + anti-clerical demonstration would end in a terrible fit of indigestion. + </p> + <p> + As I was going back to my lodgings, being rather drunk myself, with a + cheerful drunkenness, a Machiavellian idea struck me which satisfied all + my sceptical instincts. + </p> + <p> + I arranged my necktie, put on a look of great distress, and went and, rang + loudly at the old Jesuit's door. As he was deaf he made me wait a longish + while, but at length appeared at his window in a cotton nightcap and asked + what I wanted. + </p> + <p> + I shouted out at the top of my voice: + </p> + <p> + “Make haste, reverend sir, and open the door; a poor, despairing, + sick man is in need of your spiritual ministrations.” + </p> + <p> + The good, kind man put on his trousers as quickly as he could, and came + down without his cassock. I told him in a breathless voice that my uncle, + the Freethinker, had been taken suddenly ill, and fearing it was going to + be something serious, he had been seized with a sudden dread of death, and + wished to see the priest and talk to him; to have his advice and comfort, + to make his peace with the Church, and to confess, so as to be able to + cross the dreaded threshold at peace with himself; and I added in a + mocking tone: + </p> + <p> + “At any rate, he wishes it, and if it does him no good it can do him + no harm.” + </p> + <p> + The old Jesuit, who was startled, delighted, and almost trembling, said to + me: + </p> + <p> + “Wait a moment, my son; I will come with you.” But I replied: + “Pardon me, reverend father, if I do not go with you; but my + convictions will not allow me to do so. I even refused to come and fetch + you, so I beg you not to say that you have seen me, but to declare that + you had a presentiment—a sort of revelation of his illness.” + </p> + <p> + The priest consented and went off quickly; knocked at my uncle's door, and + was soon let in; and I saw the black cassock disappear within that + stronghold of Free Thought. + </p> + <p> + I hid under a neighboring gateway to wait results. Had he been well, my + uncle would have half-murdered the Jesuit, but I knew that he would + scarcely be able to move an arm, and I asked myself gleefully what sort of + a scene would take place between these antagonists, what disputes, what + arguments, what a hubbub, and what would be the issue of the situation, + which my uncle's indignation would render still more tragic? + </p> + <p> + I laughed till my sides ached, and said half aloud: “Oh, what a + joke, what a joke!” + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile it was getting very cold, and I noticed that the Jesuit stayed a + long time, and I thought: “They are having an argument, I suppose.” + </p> + <p> + One, two, three hours passed, and still the reverend father did not come + out. What had happened? Had my uncle died in a fit when he saw him, or had + he killed the cassocked gentleman? Perhaps they had mutually devoured each + other? This last supposition appeared very unlikely, for I fancied that my + uncle was quite incapable of swallowing a grain more nourishment at that + moment. + </p> + <p> + At last the day broke. + </p> + <p> + I was very uneasy, and, not venturing to go into the house myself, went to + one of my friends who lived opposite. I woke him up, explained matters to + him, much to his amusement and astonishment, and took possession of his + window. + </p> + <p> + At nine o'clock he relieved me, and I got a little sleep. At two o'clock + I, in my turn, replaced him. We were utterly astonished. + </p> + <p> + At six o'clock the Jesuit left, with a very happy and satisfied look on + his face, and we saw him go away with a quiet step. + </p> + <p> + Then, timid and ashamed, I went and knocked at the door of my uncle's + house; and when the servant opened it I did not dare to ask her any + questions, but went upstairs without saying a word. + </p> + <p> + My uncle was lying, pale and exhausted, with weary, sorrowful eyes and + heavy arms, on his bed. A little religious picture was fastened to one of + the bed curtains with a pin. + </p> + <p> + “Why, uncle,” I said, “in bed still? Are you not well?” + </p> + <p> + He replied in a feeble voice: + </p> + <p> + “Oh, my dear boy, I have been very ill, nearly dead.” + </p> + <p> + “How was that, uncle?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know; it was most surprising. But what is stranger still is + that the Jesuit priest who has just left—you know, that excellent + man whom I have made such fun of—had a divine revelation of my + state, and came to see me.” + </p> + <p> + I was seized with an almost uncontrollable desire to laugh, and with + difficulty said: “Oh, really!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, he came. He heard a voice telling him to get up and come to + me, because I was going to die. I was a revelation.” + </p> + <p> + I pretended to sneeze, so as not to burst out laughing; I felt inclined to + roll on the ground with amusement. + </p> + <p> + In about a minute I managed to say indignantly: + </p> + <p> + “And you received him, uncle? You, a Freethinker, a Freemason? You + did not have him thrown out of doors?” + </p> + <p> + He seemed confused, and stammered: + </p> + <p> + “Listen a moment, it is so astonishing—so astonishing and + providential! He also spoke to me about my father; it seems he knew him + formerly.” + </p> + <p> + “Your father, uncle? But that is no reason for receiving a Jesuit.” + </p> + <p> + “I know that, but I was very ill, and he looked after me most + devotedly all night long. He was perfect; no doubt he saved my life; those + men all know a little of medicine.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! he looked after you all night? But you said just now that he + had only been gone a very short time.” + </p> + <p> + “That is quite true; I kept him to breakfast after all his kindness. + He had it at a table by my bedside while I drank a cup of tea.” + </p> + <p> + “And he ate meat?” + </p> + <p> + My uncle looked vexed, as if I had said something very uncalled for, and + then added: + </p> + <p> + “Don't joke, Gaston; such things are out of place at times. He has + shown me more devotion than many a relation would have done, and I expect + to have his convictions respected.” + </p> + <p> + This rather upset me, but I answered, nevertheless: “Very well, + uncle; and what did you do after breakfast?” + </p> + <p> + “We played a game of bezique, and then he repeated his breviary + while I read a little book which he happened to have in his pocket, and + which was not by any means badly written.” + </p> + <p> + “A religious book, uncle?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and no, or, rather—no. It is the history of their + missions in Central Africa, and is rather a book of travels and + adventures. What these men have done is very grand.” + </p> + <p> + I began to feel that matters were going badly, so I got up. “Well, + good-by, uncle,” I said, “I see you are going to give up + Freemasonry for religion; you are a renegade.” + </p> + <p> + He was still rather confused, and stammered: + </p> + <p> + “Well, but religion is a sort of Freemasonry.” + </p> + <p> + “When is your Jesuit coming back?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “I don't—I don't know exactly; to-morrow, perhaps; but it is + not certain.” + </p> + <p> + I went out, altogether overwhelmed. + </p> + <p> + My joke turned out very badly for me! My uncle became thoroughly + converted, and if that had been all I should not have cared so much. + Clerical or Freemason, to me it is all the same; six of one and half a + dozen of the other; but the worst of it is that he has just made his will—yes, + made his will—and he has disinherited me in favor of that rascally + Jesuit! + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0082"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + THE BARONESS + </h2> + <p> + “Come with me,” said my friend Boisrene, “you will see + some very interesting bric-a-brac and works of art there.” + </p> + <p> + He conducted me to the first floor of an elegant house in one of the big + streets of Paris. We were welcomed by a very pleasing man, with excellent + manners, who led us from room to room, showing us rare things, the price + of which he mentioned carelessly. Large sums, ten, twenty, thirty, fifty + thousand francs, dropped from his lips with such grace and ease that one + could not doubt that this gentleman-merchant had millions shut up in his + safe. + </p> + <p> + I had known him by reputation for a long time. Very bright, clever, + intelligent, he acted as intermediary in all sorts of transactions. He + kept in touch with all the richest art amateurs in Paris, and even of + Europe and America, knowing their tastes and preferences; he apprised them + by letter, or by wire if they lived in a distant city, as soon as he knew + of some work of art which might suit them. + </p> + <p> + Men of the best society had had recourse to him in times of difficulty, + either to find money for gambling, or to pay off a debt, or to sell a + picture, a family jewel, or a tapestry. + </p> + <p> + It was said that he never refused his services when he saw a chance of + gain. + </p> + <p> + Boisrene seemed very intimate with this strange merchant. They must have + worked together in many a deal. I observed the man with great interest. + </p> + <p> + He was tall, thin, bald, and very elegant. His soft, insinuating voice had + a peculiar, tempting charm which seemed to give the objects a special + value. When he held anything in his hands, he turned it round and round, + looking at it with such skill, refinement, and sympathy that the object + seemed immediately to be beautiful and transformed by his look and touch. + And its value increased in one's estimation, after the object had passed + from the showcase into his hands. + </p> + <p> + “And your Crucifix,” said Boisrene, “that beautiful + Renaissance Crucifix which you showed me last year?” + </p> + <p> + The man smiled and answered: + </p> + <p> + “It has been sold, and in a very peculiar manner. There is a real + Parisian story for you! Would you like to hear it?” + </p> + <p> + “With pleasure.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you know the Baroness Samoris?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes and no. I have seen her once, but I know what she is!” + </p> + <p> + “You know—everything?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Would you mind telling me, so that I can see whether you are not + mistaken?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly. Mme. Samoris is a woman of the world who has a daughter, + without anyone having known her husband. At any rate, she is received in a + certain tolerant, or blind society. She goes to church and devoutly + partakes of Communion, so that everyone may know it, and she never + compromises herself. She expects her daughter to marry well. Is that + correct?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but I will complete your information. She is a woman who makes + herself respected by her admirers in spite of everything. That is a rare + quality, for in this manner she can get what she wishes from a man. The + man whom she has chosen without his suspecting it courts her for a long + time, longs for her timidly, wins her with astonishment and possesses her + with consideration. He does not notice that he is paying, she is so + tactful; and she maintains her relations on such a footing of reserve and + dignity that he would slap the first man who dared doubt her in the least. + And all this in the best of faith. + </p> + <p> + “Several times I have been able to render little services to this + woman. She has no secrets from me. + </p> + <p> + “Toward the beginning of January she came to me in order to borrow + thirty thousand francs. Naturally, I did not lend them to her; but, as I + wished to oblige her, I told her to explain her situation to me + completely, so that I might see whether there was not something I could do + for her. + </p> + <p> + “She told me her troubles in such cautious language that she could + not have spoken more delicately of her child's first communion. I finally + managed to understand that times were hard, and that she was penniless. + </p> + <p> + “The commercial crisis, political unrest, rumors of war, had made + money scarce even in the hands of her clients. And then, of course, she + was very particular. + </p> + <p> + “She would associate only with a man in the best of society, who + could strengthen her reputation as well as help her financially. A + reveller, no matter how rich, would have compromised her forever, and + would have made the marriage of her daughter quite doubtful. + </p> + <p> + “She had to maintain her household expenses and continue to + entertain, in order not to lose the opportunity of finding, among her + numerous visitors, the discreet and distinguished friend for whom she was + waiting, and whom she would choose. + </p> + <p> + “I showed her that my thirty thousand francs would have but little + likelihood of returning to me; for, after spending them all, she would + have to find at least sixty thousand more, in a lump, to pay me back. + </p> + <p> + “She seemed very disheartened when she heard this. I did not know + just what to do, when an idea, a really fine idea, struck me. + </p> + <p> + “I had just bought this Renaissance Crucifix which I showed you, an + admirable piece of workmanship, one of the finest of its land that I have + ever seen. + </p> + <p> + “'My dear friend,' I said to her, 'I am going to send you that piece + of ivory. You will invent some ingenious, touching, poetic story, anything + that you wish, to explain your desire for parting with it. It is, of + course, a family heirloom left you by your father. + </p> + <p> + “'I myself will send you amateurs, or will bring them to you. The + rest concerns you. Before they come I will drop you a line about their + position, both social and financial. This Crucifix is worth fifty thousand + francs; but I will let it go for thirty thousand. The difference will + belong to you.' + </p> + <p> + “She considered the matter seriously for several minutes, and then + answered: 'Yes, it is, perhaps, a good idea. I thank you very-much.' + </p> + <p> + “The next day I sent her my Crucifix, and the same evening the Baron + de Saint-Hospital. + </p> + <p> + “For three months I sent her my best clients, from a business point + of view. But I heard nothing more from her. + </p> + <p> + “One day I received a visit from a foreigner who spoke very little + French. I decided to introduce him personally to the baroness, in order to + see how she was getting along. + </p> + <p> + “A footman in black livery received us and ushered us into a quiet + little parlor, furnished with taste, where we waited for several minutes. + She appeared, charming as usual, extended her hand to me and invited us to + be seated; and when I had explained the reason of my visit, she rang. + </p> + <p> + “The footman appeared. + </p> + <p> + “'See if Mlle. Isabelle can let us go into her oratory.' The young + girl herself brought the answer. She was about fifteen years of age, + modest and good to look upon in the sweet freshness of her youth. She + wished to conduct us herself to her chapel. + </p> + <p> + “It was a kind of religious boudoir where a silver lamp was burning + before the Crucifix, my Crucifix, on a background of black velvet. The + setting was charming and very clever. The child crossed herself and then + said: + </p> + <p> + “'Look, gentlemen. Isn't it beautiful?' + </p> + <p> + “I took the object, examined it and declared it to be remarkable. + The foreigner also examined it, but he seemed much more interested in the + two women than in the crucifix. + </p> + <p> + “A delicate odor of incense, flowers and perfume pervaded the whole + house. One felt at home there. This really was a comfortable home, where + one would have liked to linger. + </p> + <p> + “When we had returned to the parlor I delicately broached the + subject of the price. Mme. Samoris, lowering her eyes, asked fifty + thousand francs. + </p> + <p> + “Then she added: 'If you wish to see it again, monsieur, I very + seldom go out before three o'clock; and I can be found at home every day.' + </p> + <p> + “In the street the stranger asked me for some details about the + baroness, whom he had found charming. But I did not hear anything more + from either of them. + </p> + <p> + “Three months passed by. + </p> + <p> + “One morning, hardly two weeks ago, she came here at about lunch + time, and, placing a roll of bills in my hand, said: 'My dear, you are an + angel! Here are fifty thousand francs; I am buying your crucifix, and I am + paying twenty thousand francs more for it than the price agreed upon, on + condition that you always—always send your clients to me—for + it is still for sale.'” + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0083"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + MOTHER AND SON + </h2> + <p> + A party of men were chatting in the smoking room after dinner. We were + talking of unexpected legacies, strange inheritances. Then M. le Brument, + who was sometimes called “the illustrious judge” and at other + times “the illustrious lawyer,” went and stood with his back + to the fire. + </p> + <p> + “I have,” said he, “to search for an heir who + disappeared under peculiarly distressing circumstances. It is one of those + simple and terrible dramas of ordinary life, a thing which possibly + happens every day, and which is nevertheless one of the most dreadful + things I know. Here are the facts: + </p> + <p> + “Nearly six months ago I was called to the bedside of a dying woman. + She said to me: + </p> + <p> + “'Monsieur, I want to intrust to you the most delicate, the most + difficult, and the most wearisome mission that can be conceived. Be good + enough to notice my will, which is there on the table. A sum of five + thousand francs is left to you as a fee if you do not succeed, and of a + hundred thousand francs if you do succeed. I want you to find my son after + my death.' + </p> + <p> + “She asked me to assist her to sit up in bed, in order that she + might talk with greater ease, for her voice, broken and gasping, was + whistling in her throat. + </p> + <p> + “It was a very wealthy establishment. The luxurious apartment, of an + elegant simplicity, was upholstered with materials as thick as walls, with + a soft inviting surface. + </p> + <p> + “The dying woman continued: + </p> + <p> + “'You are the first to hear my horrible story. I will try to have + strength enough to finish it. You must know all, in order that you, whom I + know to be a kind-hearted man as well as a man of the world, may have a + sincere desire to aid me with all your power. + </p> + <p> + “'Listen to me: + </p> + <p> + “'Before my marriage, I loved a young man, whose suit was rejected + by my family because he was not rich enough. Not long afterward, I married + a man of great wealth. I married him through ignorance, through obedience, + through indifference, as young girls do marry. + </p> + <p> + “'I had a child, a boy. My husband died in the course of a few + years. + </p> + <p> + “'He whom I had loved had married, in his turn. When he saw that I + was a widow, he was crushed by grief at knowing he was not free. He came + to see me; he wept and sobbed so bitterly, that it was enough to break my + heart. He came to see me at first as a friend. Perhaps I ought not to have + received him. What could I do? I was alone, so sad, so solitary, so + hopeless! And I loved him still. What sufferings we women have sometimes + to endure! + </p> + <p> + “'I had only him in the world, my parents being dead. He came + frequently; he spent whole evenings with me. I should not have let him + come so often, seeing that he was married. But I had not enough will-power + to prevent him from coming. + </p> + <p> + “'How can I tell it?—he became my lover. How did this come + about? Can I explain it? Can any one explain such things? Do you think it + could be otherwise when two human beings are drawn to each other by the + irresistible force of mutual affection? Do you believe, monsieur, that it + is always in our power to resist, that we can keep up the struggle + forever, and refuse to yield to the prayers, the supplications, the tears, + the frenzied words, the appeals on bended knees, the transports of + passion, with which we are pursued by the man we adore, whom we want to + gratify even in his slightest wishes, whom we desire to crown with every + possible happiness, and whom, if we are to be guided by a worldly code of + honor, we must drive to despair? What strength would it not require? What + a renunciation of happiness? what self-denial? and even what virtuous + selfishness? + </p> + <p> + “'In short, monsieur, I was his mistress; and I was happy. I became—and + this was my greatest weakness and my greatest piece of cowardice-I became + his wife's friend. + </p> + <p> + “'We brought up my son together; we made a man of him, a thorough + man, intelligent, full of sense and resolution, of large and generous + ideas. The boy reached the age of seventeen. + </p> + <p> + “'He, the young man, was fond of my—my lover, almost as fond + of him as I was myself, for he had been equally cherished and cared for by + both of us. He used to call him his 'dear friend,' and respected him + immensely, having never received from him anything but wise counsels and + an example of integrity, honor, and probity. He looked upon him as an old + loyal and devoted comrade of his mother, as a sort of moral father, + guardian, protector—how am I to describe it? + </p> + <p> + “'Perhaps the reason why he never asked any questions was that he + had been accustomed from his earliest years to see this man in my house, + at my side, and at his side, always concerned about us both. + </p> + <p> + “'One evening the three of us were to dine together—this was + my chief amusement—and I waited for the two men, asking myself which + of them would be the first to arrive. The door opened; it was my old + friend. I went toward him, with outstretched arms; and he pressed my lips + in a long, delicious kiss. + </p> + <p> + “'All of a sudden, a slight sound, a faint rustling, that mysterious + sensation which indicates the presence of another person, made us start + and turn round abruptly. Jean, my son, stood there, livid, staring at us. + </p> + <p> + “'There was a moment of atrocious confusion. I drew back, holding + out my hand toward my son as if in supplication; but I could not see him. + He had gone. + </p> + <p> + “'We remained facing each other—my lover and I—crushed, + unable to utter a word. I sank into an armchair, and I felt a desire, a + vague, powerful desire, to flee, to go out into the night, and to + disappear forever. Then convulsive sobs rose in my throat, and I wept, + shaken with spasms, my heart breaking, all my nerves writhing with the + horrible sensation of an irreparable misfortune, and with that dreadful + sense of shame which, in such moments as this, fills a mother's heart. + </p> + <p> + “'He looked at me in a terrified manner, not venturing to approach, + to speak to me, or to touch me, for fear of the boy's return. At last he + said: + </p> + <p> + “'I am going to follow him-to talk to him—to explain matters + to him. In short, I must see him and let him know——” + </p> + <p> + “'And he hurried away. + </p> + <p> + “'I waited—waited in a distracted frame of mind, trembling at + the least sound, starting with fear and with some unutterably strange and + intolerable emotion at every slight crackling of the fire in the grate. + </p> + <p> + “'I waited an hour, two hours, feeling my heart swell with a dread I + had never before experienced, such anguish that I would not wish the + greatest criminal to endure ten minutes of such misery. Where was my son? + What was he doing? + </p> + <p> + “'About midnight, a messenger brought me a note from my lover. I + still know its contents by heart: + </p> + <p> + “'Has your son returned? I did not find him. I am down here. I do + not want to go up at this hour.” + </p> + <p> + “'I wrote in pencil on the same slip of paper: + </p> + <p> + “'Jean has not returned. You must find him.” + </p> + <p> + “'And I remained all night in the armchair, waiting for him. + </p> + <p> + “'I felt as if I were going mad. I longed to run wildly about, to + roll on the ground. And yet I did not even stir, but kept waiting hour + after hour. What was going to happen? I tried to imagine, to guess. But I + could form no conception, in spite of my efforts, in spite of the tortures + of my soul! + </p> + <p> + “'And now I feared that they might meet. What would they do in that + case? What would my son do? My mind was torn with fearful doubts, with + terrible suppositions. + </p> + <p> + “'You can understand my feelings, can you not, monsieur? “'My + chambermaid, who knew nothing, who understood nothing, came into the room + every moment, believing, naturally, that I had lost my reason. I sent her + away with a word or a movement of the hand. She went for the doctor, who + found me in the throes of a nervous attack. + </p> + <p> + “'I was put to bed. I had brain fever. + </p> + <p> + “'When I regained consciousness, after a long illness, I saw beside + my bed my—lover—alone. + </p> + <p> + “'I exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “'My son? Where is my son? + </p> + <p> + “'He made no reply. I stammered: + </p> + <p> + “'Dead-dead. Has he committed suicide? + </p> + <p> + “'No, no, I swear it. But we have not found him in spite of all my + efforts. + </p> + <p> + “'Then, becoming suddenly exasperated and even indignant—for + women are subject to such outbursts of unaccountable and unreasoning anger—I + said: + </p> + <p> + “'I forbid you to come near me or to see me again unless you find + him. Go away! + </p> + <p> + “He did go away. + </p> + <p> + “'I have never seen one or the other of them since, monsieur, and + thus I have lived for the last twenty years. + </p> + <p> + “'Can you imagine what all this meant to me? Can you understand this + monstrous punishment, this slow, perpetual laceration of a mother's heart, + this abominable, endless waiting? Endless, did I say? No; it is about to + end, for I am dying. I am dying without ever again seeing either of them—either + one or the other! + </p> + <p> + “'He—the man I loved—has written to me every day for the + last twenty years; and I—I have never consented to see him, even for + one second; for I had a strange feeling that, if he were to come back + here, my son would make his appearance at the same moment. Oh! my son! my + son! Is he dead? Is he living? Where is he hiding? Over there, perhaps, + beyond the great ocean, in some country so far away that even its very + name is unknown to me! Does he ever think of me? Ah! if he only knew! How + cruel one's children are! Did he understand to what frightful suffering he + condemned me, into what depths of despair, into what tortures, he cast me + while I was still in the prime of life, leaving me to suffer until this + moment, when I am about to die—me, his mother, who loved him with + all the intensity of a mother's love? Oh! isn't it cruel, cruel? + </p> + <p> + “'You will tell him all this, monsieur—will you not? You will + repeat to him my last words: + </p> + <p> + “'My child, my dear, dear child, be less harsh toward poor women! + Life is already brutal and savage enough in its dealings with them. My + dear son, think of what the existence of your poor mother has been ever + since the day you left her. My dear child, forgive her, and love her, now + that she is dead, for she has had to endure the most frightful penance + ever inflicted on a woman.” + </p> + <p> + “She gasped for breath, trembling, as if she had addressed the last + words to her son and as if he stood by her bedside. + </p> + <p> + “Then she added: + </p> + <p> + “'You will tell him also, monsieur, that I never again saw-the + other.' + </p> + <p> + “Once more she ceased speaking, then, in a broken voice, she said: + </p> + <p> + “'Leave me now, I beg of you. I want to die all alone, since they + are not with me.'” + </p> + <p> + Maitre Le Brument added: + </p> + <p> + “And I left the house, monsieurs, crying like a fool, so bitterly, + indeed, that my coachman turned round to stare at me. + </p> + <p> + “And to think that, every day, dramas like this are being enacted + all around us! + </p> + <p> + “I have not found the son—that son—well, say what you + like about him, but I call him that criminal son!” + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0084"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + THE HAND + </h2> + <p> + All were crowding around M. Bermutier, the judge, who was giving his + opinion about the Saint-Cloud mystery. For a month this in explicable + crime had been the talk of Paris. Nobody could make head or tail of it. + </p> + <p> + M. Bermutier, standing with his back to the fireplace, was talking, citing + the evidence, discussing the various theories, but arriving at no + conclusion. + </p> + <p> + Some women had risen, in order to get nearer to him, and were standing + with their eyes fastened on the clean-shaven face of the judge, who was + saying such weighty things. They, were shaking and trembling, moved by + fear and curiosity, and by the eager and insatiable desire for the + horrible, which haunts the soul of every woman. One of them, paler than + the others, said during a pause: + </p> + <p> + “It's terrible. It verges on the supernatural. The truth will never + be known.” + </p> + <p> + The judge turned to her: + </p> + <p> + “True, madame, it is likely that the actual facts will never be + discovered. As for the word 'supernatural' which you have just used, it + has nothing to do with the matter. We are in the presence of a very + cleverly conceived and executed crime, so well enshrouded in mystery that + we cannot disentangle it from the involved circumstances which surround + it. But once I had to take charge of an affair in which the uncanny seemed + to play a part. In fact, the case became so confused that it had to be + given up.” + </p> + <p> + Several women exclaimed at once: + </p> + <p> + “Oh! Tell us about it!” + </p> + <p> + M. Bermutier smiled in a dignified manner, as a judge should, and went on: + </p> + <p> + “Do not think, however, that I, for one minute, ascribed anything in + the case to supernatural influences. I believe only in normal causes. But + if, instead of using the word 'supernatural' to express what we do not + understand, we were simply to make use of the word 'inexplicable,' it + would be much better. At any rate, in the affair of which I am about to + tell you, it is especially the surrounding, preliminary circumstances + which impressed me. Here are the facts: + </p> + <p> + “I was, at that time, a judge at Ajaccio, a little white city on the + edge of a bay which is surrounded by high mountains. + </p> + <p> + “The majority of the cases which came up before me concerned + vendettas. There are some that are superb, dramatic, ferocious, heroic. We + find there the most beautiful causes for revenge of which one could dream, + enmities hundreds of years old, quieted for a time but never extinguished; + abominable stratagems, murders becoming massacres and almost deeds of + glory. For two years I heard of nothing but the price of blood, of this + terrible Corsican prejudice which compels revenge for insults meted out to + the offending person and all his descendants and relatives. I had seen old + men, children, cousins murdered; my head was full of these stories. + </p> + <p> + “One day I learned that an Englishman had just hired a little villa + at the end of the bay for several years. He had brought with him a French + servant, whom he had engaged on the way at Marseilles. + </p> + <p> + “Soon this peculiar person, living alone, only going out to hunt and + fish, aroused a widespread interest. He never spoke to any one, never went + to the town, and every morning he would practice for an hour or so with + his revolver and rifle. + </p> + <p> + “Legends were built up around him. It was said that he was some high + personage, fleeing from his fatherland for political reasons; then it was + affirmed that he was in hiding after having committed some abominable + crime. Some particularly horrible circumstances were even mentioned. + </p> + <p> + “In my judicial position I thought it necessary to get some + information about this man, but it was impossible to learn anything. He + called himself Sir John Rowell. + </p> + <p> + “I therefore had to be satisfied with watching him as closely as I + could, but I could see nothing suspicious about his actions. + </p> + <p> + “However, as rumors about him were growing and becoming more + widespread, I decided to try to see this stranger myself, and I began to + hunt regularly in the neighborhood of his grounds. + </p> + <p> + “For a long time I watched without finding an opportunity. At last + it came to me in the shape of a partridge which I shot and killed right in + front of the Englishman. My dog fetched it for me, but, taking the bird, I + went at once to Sir John Rowell and, begging his pardon, asked him to + accept it. + </p> + <p> + “He was a big man, with red hair and beard, very tall, very broad, a + kind of calm and polite Hercules. He had nothing of the so-called British + stiffness, and in a broad English accent he thanked me warmly for my + attention. At the end of a month we had had five or six conversations. + </p> + <p> + “One night, at last, as I was passing before his door, I saw him in + the garden, seated astride a chair, smoking his pipe. I bowed and he + invited me to come in and have a glass of beer. I needed no urging. + </p> + <p> + “He received me with the most punctilious English courtesy, sang the + praises of France and of Corsica, and declared that he was quite in love + with this country. + </p> + <p> + “Then, with great caution and under the guise of a vivid interest, I + asked him a few questions about his life and his plans. He answered + without embarrassment, telling me that he had travelled a great deal in + Africa, in the Indies, in America. He added, laughing: + </p> + <p> + “'I have had many adventures.' + </p> + <p> + “Then I turned the conversation on hunting, and he gave me the most + curious details on hunting the hippopotamus, the tiger, the elephant and + even the gorilla. + </p> + <p> + “I said: + </p> + <p> + “'Are all these animals dangerous?' + </p> + <p> + “He smiled: + </p> + <p> + “'Oh, no! Man is the worst.' + </p> + <p> + “And he laughed a good broad laugh, the wholesome laugh of a + contented Englishman. + </p> + <p> + “'I have also frequently been man-hunting.' + </p> + <p> + “Then he began to talk about weapons, and he invited me to come in + and see different makes of guns. + </p> + <p> + “His parlor was draped in black, black silk embroidered in gold. Big + yellow flowers, as brilliant as fire, were worked on the dark material. + </p> + <p> + “He said: + </p> + <p> + “'It is a Japanese material.' + </p> + <p> + “But in the middle of the widest panel a strange thing attracted my + attention. A black object stood out against a square of red velvet. I went + up to it; it was a hand, a human hand. Not the clean white hand of a + skeleton, but a dried black hand, with yellow nails, the muscles exposed + and traces of old blood on the bones, which were cut off as clean as + though it had been chopped off with an axe, near the middle of the + forearm. + </p> + <p> + “Around the wrist, an enormous iron chain, riveted and soldered to + this unclean member, fastened it to the wall by a ring, strong enough to + hold an elephant in leash. + </p> + <p> + “I asked: + </p> + <p> + “'What is that?' + </p> + <p> + “The Englishman answered quietly: + </p> + <p> + “'That is my best enemy. It comes from America, too. The bones were + severed by a sword and the skin cut off with a sharp stone and dried in + the sun for a week.' + </p> + <p> + “I touched these human remains, which must have belonged to a giant. + The uncommonly long fingers were attached by enormous tendons which still + had pieces of skin hanging to them in places. This hand was terrible to + see; it made one think of some savage vengeance. + </p> + <p> + “I said: + </p> + <p> + “'This man must have been very strong.' + </p> + <p> + “The Englishman answered quietly: + </p> + <p> + “'Yes, but I was stronger than he. I put on this chain to hold him.' + </p> + <p> + “I thought that he was joking. I said: + </p> + <p> + “'This chain is useless now, the hand won't run away.' + </p> + <p> + “Sir John Rowell answered seriously: + </p> + <p> + “'It always wants to go away. This chain is needed.' + </p> + <p> + “I glanced at him quickly, questioning his face, and I asked myself: + </p> + <p> + “'Is he an insane man or a practical joker?' + </p> + <p> + “But his face remained inscrutable, calm and friendly. I turned to + other subjects, and admired his rifles. + </p> + <p> + “However, I noticed that he kept three loaded revolvers in the room, + as though constantly in fear of some attack. + </p> + <p> + “I paid him several calls. Then I did not go any more. People had + become used to his presence; everybody had lost interest in him. + </p> + <p> + “A whole year rolled by. One morning, toward the end of November, my + servant awoke me and announced that Sir John Rowell had been murdered + during the night. + </p> + <p> + “Half an hour later I entered the Englishman's house, together with + the police commissioner and the captain of the gendarmes. The servant, + bewildered and in despair, was crying before the door. At first I + suspected this man, but he was innocent. + </p> + <p> + “The guilty party could never be found. + </p> + <p> + “On entering Sir John's parlor, I noticed the body, stretched out on + its back, in the middle of the room. + </p> + <p> + “His vest was torn, the sleeve of his jacket had been pulled off, + everything pointed to, a violent struggle. + </p> + <p> + “The Englishman had been strangled! His face was black, swollen and + frightful, and seemed to express a terrible fear. He held something + between his teeth, and his neck, pierced by five or six holes which looked + as though they had been made by some iron instrument, was covered with + blood. + </p> + <p> + “A physician joined us. He examined the finger marks on the neck for + a long time and then made this strange announcement: + </p> + <p> + “'It looks as though he had been strangled by a skeleton.' + </p> + <p> + “A cold chill seemed to run down my back, and I looked over to where + I had formerly seen the terrible hand. It was no longer there. The chain + was hanging down, broken. + </p> + <p> + “I bent over the dead man and, in his contracted mouth, I found one + of the fingers of this vanished hand, cut—or rather sawed off by the + teeth down to the second knuckle. + </p> + <p> + “Then the investigation began. Nothing could be discovered. No door, + window or piece of furniture had been forced. The two watch dogs had not + been aroused from their sleep. + </p> + <p> + “Here, in a few words, is the testimony of the servant: + </p> + <p> + “For a month his master had seemed excited. He had received many + letters, which he would immediately burn. + </p> + <p> + “Often, in a fit of passion which approached madness, he had taken a + switch and struck wildly at this dried hand riveted to the wall, and which + had disappeared, no one knows how, at the very hour of the crime. + </p> + <p> + “He would go to bed very late and carefully lock himself in. He + always kept weapons within reach. Often at night he would talk loudly, as + though he were quarrelling with some one. + </p> + <p> + “That night, somehow, he had made no noise, and it was only on going + to open the windows that the servant had found Sir John murdered. He + suspected no one. + </p> + <p> + “I communicated what I knew of the dead man to the judges and public + officials. Throughout the whole island a minute investigation was carried + on. Nothing could be found out. + </p> + <p> + “One night, about three months after the crime, I had a terrible + nightmare. I seemed to see the horrible hand running over my curtains and + walls like an immense scorpion or spider. Three times I awoke, three times + I went to sleep again; three times I saw the hideous object galloping + round my room and moving its fingers like legs. + </p> + <p> + “The following day the hand was brought me, found in the cemetery, + on the grave of Sir John Rowell, who had been buried there because we had + been unable to find his family. The first finger was missing. + </p> + <p> + “Ladies, there is my story. I know nothing more.” + </p> + <p> + The women, deeply stirred, were pale and trembling. One of them exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “But that is neither a climax nor an explanation! We will be unable + to sleep unless you give us your opinion of what had occurred.” + </p> + <p> + The judge smiled severely: + </p> + <p> + “Oh! Ladies, I shall certainly spoil your terrible dreams. I simply + believe that the legitimate owner of the hand was not dead, that he came + to get it with his remaining one. But I don't know how. It was a kind of + vendetta.” + </p> + <p> + One of the women murmured: + </p> + <p> + “No, it can't be that.” + </p> + <p> + And the judge, still smiling, said: + </p> + <p> + “Didn't I tell you that my explanation would not satisfy you?” + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0085"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + A TRESS OF HAIR + </h2> + <p> + The walls of the cell were bare and white washed. A narrow grated window, + placed so high that one could not reach it, lighted this sinister little + room. The mad inmate, seated on a straw chair, looked at us with a fixed, + vacant and haunted expression. He was very thin, with hollow cheeks and + hair almost white, which one guessed might have turned gray in a few + months. His clothes appeared to be too large for his shrunken limbs, his + sunken chest and empty paunch. One felt that this man's mind was + destroyed, eaten by his thoughts, by one thought, just as a fruit is eaten + by a worm. His craze, his idea was there in his brain, insistent, + harassing, destructive. It wasted his frame little by little. It—the + invisible, impalpable, intangible, immaterial idea—was mining his + health, drinking his blood, snuffing out his life. + </p> + <p> + What a mystery was this man, being killed by an ideal! He aroused sorrow, + fear and pity, this madman. What strange, tremendous and deadly thoughts + dwelt within this forehead which they creased with deep wrinkles which + were never still? + </p> + <p> + “He has terrible attacks of rage,” said the doctor to me. + “His is one of the most peculiar cases I have ever seen. He has + seizures of erotic and macaberesque madness. He is a sort of necrophile. + He has kept a journal in which he sets forth his disease with the utmost + clearness. In it you can, as it were, put your finger on it. If it would + interest you, you may go over this document.” + </p> + <p> + I followed the doctor into his office, where he handed me this wretched + man's diary, saying: “Read it and tell me what you think of it.” + I read as follows: + </p> + <p> + “Until the age of thirty-two I lived peacefully, without knowing + love. Life appeared very simple, very pleasant and very easy. I was rich. + I enjoyed so many things that I had no passion for anything in particular. + It was good to be alive! I awoke happy every morning and did those things + that pleased me during the day and went to bed at night contented, in the + expectation of a peaceful tomorrow and a future without anxiety. + </p> + <p> + “I had had a few flirtations without my heart being touched by any + true passion or wounded by any of the sensations of true love. It is good + to live like that. It is better to love, but it is terrible. And yet those + who love in the ordinary way must experience ardent happiness, though less + than mine possibly, for love came to me in a remarkable manner. + </p> + <p> + “As I was wealthy, I bought all kinds of old furniture and old + curiosities, and I often thought of the unknown hands that had touched + these objects, of the eyes that had admired them, of the hearts that had + loved them; for one does love things! I sometimes remained hours and hours + looking at a little watch of the last century. It was so tiny, so pretty + with its enamel and gold chasing. And it kept time as on the day when a + woman first bought it, enraptured at owning this dainty trinket. It had + not ceased to vibrate, to live its mechanical life, and it had kept up its + regular tick-tock since the last century. Who had first worn it on her + bosom amid the warmth of her clothing, the heart of the watch beating + beside the heart of the woman? What hand had held it in its warm fingers, + had turned it over and then wiped the enamelled shepherds on the case to + remove the slight moisture from her fingers? What eyes had watched the + hands on its ornamental face for the expected, the beloved, the sacred + hour? + </p> + <p> + “How I wished I had known her, seen her, the woman who had selected + this exquisite and rare object! She is dead! I am possessed with a longing + for women of former days. I love, from afar, all those who have loved. The + story of those dead and gone loves fills my heart with regrets. Oh, the + beauty, the smiles, the youthful caresses, the hopes! Should not all that + be eternal? + </p> + <p> + “How I have wept whole nights-thinking of those poor women of former + days, so beautiful, so loving, so sweet, whose arms were extended in an + embrace, and who now are dead! A kiss is immortal! It goes from lips to + lips, from century to century, from age to age. Men receive them, give + them and die. + </p> + <p> + “The past attracts me, the present terrifies me because the future + means death. I regret all that has gone by. I mourn all who have lived; I + should like to check time, to stop the clock. But time goes, it goes, it + passes, it takes from me each second a little of myself for the + annihilation of to-morrow. And I shall never live again. + </p> + <p> + “Farewell, ye women of yesterday. I love you! + </p> + <p> + “But I am not to be pitied. I found her, the one I was waiting for, + and through her I enjoyed inestimable pleasure. + </p> + <p> + “I was sauntering in Paris on a bright, sunny morning, with a happy + heart and a high step, looking in at the shop windows with the vague + interest of an idler. All at once I noticed in the shop of a dealer in + antiques a piece of Italian furniture of the seventeenth century. It was + very handsome, very rare. I set it down as being the work of a Venetian + artist named Vitelli, who was celebrated in his day. + </p> + <p> + “I went on my way. + </p> + <p> + “Why did the remembrance of that piece of furniture haunt me with + such insistence that I retraced my steps? I again stopped before the shop, + in order to take another look at it, and I felt that it tempted me. + </p> + <p> + “What a singular thing temptation is! One gazes at an object, and, + little by little, it charms you, it disturbs you, it fills your thoughts + as a woman's face might do. The enchantment of it penetrates your being, a + strange enchantment of form, color and appearance of an inanimate object. + And one loves it, one desires it, one wishes to have it. A longing to own + it takes possession of you, gently at first, as though it were timid, but + growing, becoming intense, irresistible. + </p> + <p> + “And the dealers seem to guess, from your ardent gaze, your secret + and increasing longing. + </p> + <p> + “I bought this piece of furniture and had it sent home at once. I + placed it in my room. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I am sorry for those who do not know the honeymoon of the + collector with the antique he has just purchased. One looks at it tenderly + and passes one's hand over it as if it were human flesh; one comes back to + it every moment, one is always thinking of it, wherever one goes, whatever + one does. The dear recollection of it pursues you in the street, in + society, everywhere; and when you return home at night, before taking off + your gloves or your hat; you go and look at it with the tenderness of a + lover. + </p> + <p> + “Truly, for eight days I worshipped this piece of furniture. I + opened its doors and pulled out the drawers every few moments. I handled + it with rapture, with all the intense joy of possession. + </p> + <p> + “But one evening I surmised, while I was feeling the thickness of + one of the panels, that there must be a secret drawer in it: My heart + began to beat, and I spent the night trying to discover this secret + cavity. + </p> + <p> + “I succeeded on the following day by driving a knife into a slit in + the wood. A panel slid back and I saw, spread out on a piece of black + velvet, a magnificent tress of hair. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, a woman's hair, an immense coil of fair hair, almost red, + which must have been cut off close to the head, tied with a golden cord. + </p> + <p> + “I stood amazed, trembling, confused. An almost imperceptible + perfume, so ancient that it seemed to be the spirit of a perfume, issued + from this mysterious drawer and this remarkable relic. + </p> + <p> + “I lifted it gently, almost reverently, and took it out of its + hiding place. It at once unwound in a golden shower that reached to the + floor, dense but light; soft and gleaming like the tail of a comet. + </p> + <p> + “A strange emotion filled me. What was this? When, how, why had this + hair been shut up in this drawer? What adventure, what tragedy did this + souvenir conceal? Who had cut it off? A lover on a day of farewell, a + husband on a day of revenge, or the one whose head it had graced on the + day of despair? + </p> + <p> + “Was it as she was about to take the veil that they had cast thither + that love dowry as a pledge to the world of the living? Was it when they + were going to nail down the coffin of the beautiful young corpse that the + one who had adored her had cut off her tresses, the only thing that he + could retain of her, the only living part of her body that would not + suffer decay, the only thing he could still love, and caress, and kiss in + his paroxysms of grief? + </p> + <p> + “Was it not strange that this tress should have remained as it was + in life, when not an atom of the body on which it grew was in existence? + </p> + <p> + “It fell over my fingers, tickled the skin with a singular caress, + the caress of a dead woman. It affected me so that I felt as though I + should weep. + </p> + <p> + “I held it in my hands for a long time, then it seemed as if it + disturbed me, as though something of the soul had remained in it. And I + put it back on the velvet, rusty from age, and pushed in the drawer, + closed the doors of the antique cabinet and went out for a walk to + meditate. + </p> + <p> + “I walked along, filled with sadness and also with unrest, that + unrest that one feels when in love. I felt as though I must have lived + before, as though I must have known this woman. + </p> + <p> + “And Villon's lines came to my mind like a sob: + </p> +<div class='pre'> + Tell me where, and in what place + Is Flora, the beautiful Roman, + Hipparchia and Thais + Who was her cousin-german? + + Echo answers in the breeze + O'er river and lake that blows, + Their beauty was above all praise, + But where are last year's snows? + + The queen, white as lilies, + Who sang as sing the birds, + Bertha Broadfoot, Beatrice, Alice, + Ermengarde, princess of Maine, + And Joan, the good Lorraine, + Burned by the English at Rouen, + Where are they, Virgin Queen? + And where are last year's snows? +</div> + <p> + “When I got home again I felt an irresistible longing to see my + singular treasure, and I took it out and, as I touched it, I felt a shiver + go all through me. + </p> + <p> + “For some days, however, I was in my ordinary condition, although + the thought of that tress of hair was always present to my mind. + </p> + <p> + “Whenever I came into the house I had to see it and take it in my, + hands. I turned the key of the cabinet with the same hesitation that one + opens the door leading to one's beloved, for in my hands and my heart I + felt a confused, singular, constant sensual longing to plunge my hands in + the enchanting golden flood of those dead tresses. + </p> + <p> + “Then, after I had finished caressing it and had locked the cabinet + I felt as if it were a living thing, shut up in there, imprisoned; and I + longed to see it again. I felt again the imperious desire to take it in my + hands, to touch it, to even feel uncomfortable at the cold, slippery, + irritating, bewildering contact. + </p> + <p> + “I lived thus for a month or two, I forget how long. It obsessed me, + haunted me. I was happy and tormented by turns, as when one falls in love, + and after the first vows have been exchanged. + </p> + <p> + “I shut myself in the room with it to feel it on my skin, to bury my + lips in it, to kiss it. I wound it round my face, covered my eyes with the + golden flood so as to see the day gleam through its gold. + </p> + <p> + “I loved it! Yes, I loved it. I could not be without it nor pass an + hour without looking at it. + </p> + <p> + “And I waited—I waited—for what? I do not know—For + her! + </p> + <p> + “One night I woke up suddenly, feeling as though I were not alone in + my room. + </p> + <p> + “I was alone, nevertheless, but I could not go to sleep again, and, + as I was tossing about feverishly, I got up to look at the golden tress. + It seemed softer than usual, more life-like. Do the dead come back? I + almost lost consciousness as I kissed it. I took it back with me to bed + and pressed it to my lips as if it were my sweetheart. + </p> + <p> + “Do the dead come back? She came back. Yes, I saw her; I held her in + my arms, just as she was in life, tall, fair and round. She came back + every evening—the dead woman, the beautiful, adorable, mysterious + unknown. + </p> + <p> + “My happiness was so great that I could not conceal it. No lover + ever tasted such intense, terrible enjoyment. I loved her so well that I + could not be separated from her. I took her with me always and everywhere. + I walked about the town with her as if she were my wife, and took her to + the theatre, always to a private box. But they saw her—they guessed—they + arrested me. They put me in prison like a criminal. They took her. Oh, + misery!” + </p> + <p> + Here the manuscript stopped. And as I suddenly raised my astonished eyes + to the doctor a terrific cry, a howl of impotent rage and of exasperated + longing resounded through the asylum. + </p> + <p> + “Listen,” said the doctor. “We have to douse the obscene + madman with water five times a day. Sergeant Bertrand was the only one who + was in love with the dead.” + </p> + <p> + Filled with astonishment, horror and pity, I stammered out: + </p> + <p> + “But—that tress—did it really exist?” + </p> + <p> + The doctor rose, opened a cabinet full of phials and instruments and + tossed over a long tress of fair hair which flew toward me like a golden + bird. + </p> + <p> + I shivered at feeling its soft, light touch on my hands. And I sat there, + my heart beating with disgust and desire, disgust as at the contact of + anything accessory to a crime and desire as at the temptation of some + infamous and mysterious thing. + </p> + <p> + The doctor said as he shrugged his shoulders: + </p> + <p> + “The mind of man is capable of anything.” + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0086"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + ON THE RIVER + </h2> + <p> + I rented a little country house last summer on the banks of the Seine, + several leagues from Paris, and went out there to sleep every evening. + After a few days I made the acquaintance of one of my neighbors, a man + between thirty and forty, who certainly was the most curious specimen I + ever met. He was an old boating man, and crazy about boating. He was + always beside the water, on the water, or in the water. He must have been + born in a boat, and he will certainly die in a boat at the last. + </p> + <p> + One evening as we were walking along the banks of the Seine I asked him to + tell me some stories about his life on the water. The good man at once + became animated, his whole expression changed, he became eloquent, almost + poetical. There was in his heart one great passion, an absorbing, + irresistible passion-the river. + </p> + <p> + Ah, he said to me, how many memories I have, connected with that river + that you see flowing beside us! You people who live in streets know + nothing about the river. But listen to a fisherman as he mentions the + word. To him it is a mysterious thing, profound, unknown, a land of + mirages and phantasmagoria, where one sees by night things that do not + exist, hears sounds that one does not recognize, trembles without knowing + why, as in passing through a cemetery—and it is, in fact, the most + sinister of cemeteries, one in which one has no tomb. + </p> + <p> + The land seems limited to the river boatman, and on dark nights, when + there is no moon, the river seems limitless. A sailor has not the same + feeling for the sea. It is often remorseless and cruel, it is true; but it + shrieks, it roars, it is honest, the great sea; while the river is silent + and perfidious. It does not speak, it flows along without a sound; and + this eternal motion of flowing water is more terrible to me than the high + waves of the ocean. + </p> + <p> + Dreamers maintain that the sea hides in its bosom vast tracts of blue + where those who are drowned roam among the big fishes, amid strange + forests and crystal grottoes. The river has only black depths where one + rots in the slime. It is beautiful, however, when it sparkles in the light + of the rising sun and gently laps its banks covered with whispering reeds. + </p> + <p> + The poet says, speaking of the ocean, + </p> +<div class='pre'> + “O waves, what mournful tragedies ye know + —Deep waves, the dread of kneeling mothers' hearts! + Ye tell them to each other as ye roll + On flowing tide, and this it is that gives + The sad despairing tones unto your voice + As on ye roll at eve by mounting tide.” + </div> + <p> + Well, I think that the stories whispered by the slender reeds, with their + little soft voices, must be more sinister than the lugubrious tragedies + told by the roaring of the waves. + </p> + <p> + But as you have asked for some of my recollections, I will tell you of a + singular adventure that happened to me ten years ago. + </p> + <p> + I was living, as I am now, in Mother Lafon's house, and one of my closest + friends, Louis Bernet who has now given up boating, his low shoes and his + bare neck, to go into the Supreme Court, was living in the village of C., + two leagues further down the river. We dined together every day, sometimes + at his house, sometimes at mine. + </p> + <p> + One evening as I was coming home along and was pretty tired, rowing with + difficulty my big boat, a twelve-footer, which I always took out at night, + I stopped a few moments to draw breath near the reed-covered point yonder, + about two hundred metres from the railway bridge. + </p> + <p> + It was a magnificent night, the moon shone brightly, the river gleamed, + the air was calm and soft. This peacefulness tempted me. I thought to + myself that it would be pleasant to smoke a pipe in this spot. I took up + my anchor and cast it into the river. + </p> + <p> + The boat floated downstream with the current, to the end of the chain, and + then stopped, and I seated myself in the stern on my sheepskin and made + myself as comfortable as possible. There was not a sound to be heard, + except that I occasionally thought I could perceive an almost + imperceptible lapping of the water against the bank, and I noticed taller + groups of reeds which assumed strange shapes and seemed, at times, to + move. + </p> + <p> + The river was perfectly calm, but I felt myself affected by the unusual + silence that surrounded me. All the creatures, frogs and toads, those + nocturnal singers of the marsh, were silent. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly a frog croaked to my right, and close beside me. I shuddered. It + ceased, and I heard nothing more, and resolved to smoke, to soothe my + mind. But, although I was a noted colorer of pipes, I could not smoke; at + the second draw I was nauseated, and gave up trying. I began to sing. The + sound of my voice was distressing to me. So I lay still, but presently the + slight motion of the boat disturbed me. It seemed to me as if she were + making huge lurches, from bank to bank of the river, touching each bank + alternately. Then I felt as though an invisible force, or being, were + drawing her to the surface of the water and lifting her out, to let her + fall again. I was tossed about as in a tempest. I heard noises around me. + I sprang to my feet with a single bound. The water was glistening, all was + calm. + </p> + <p> + I saw that my nerves were somewhat shaky, and I resolved to leave the + spot. I pulled the anchor chain, the boat began to move; then I felt a + resistance. I pulled harder, the anchor did not come up; it had caught on + something at the bottom of the river and I could not raise it. I began + pulling again, but all in vain. Then, with my oars, I turned the boat with + its head up stream to change the position of the anchor. It was no use, it + was still caught. I flew into a rage and shook the chain furiously. + Nothing budged. I sat down, disheartened, and began to reflect on my + situation. I could not dream of breaking this chain, or detaching it from + the boat, for it was massive and was riveted at the bows to a piece of + wood as thick as my arm. However, as the weather was so fine I thought + that it probably would not be long before some fisherman came to my aid. + My ill-luck had quieted me. I sat down and was able, at length, to smoke + my pipe. I had a bottle of rum; I drank two or three glasses, and was able + to laugh at the situation. It was very warm; so that, if need be, I could + sleep out under the stars without any great harm. + </p> + <p> + All at once there was a little knock at the side of the boat. I gave a + start, and a cold sweat broke out all over me. The noise was, doubtless, + caused by some piece of wood borne along by the current, but that was + enough, and I again became a prey to a strange nervous agitation. I seized + the chain and tensed my muscles in a desperate effort. The anchor held + firm. I sat down again, exhausted. + </p> + <p> + The river had slowly become enveloped in a thick white fog which lay close + to the water, so that when I stood up I could see neither the river, nor + my feet, nor my boat; but could perceive only the tops of the reeds, and + farther off in the distance the plain, lying white in the moonlight, with + big black patches rising up from it towards the sky, which were formed by + groups of Italian poplars. I was as if buried to the waist in a cloud of + cotton of singular whiteness, and all sorts of strange fancies came into + my mind. I thought that someone was trying to climb into my boat which I + could no longer distinguish, and that the river, hidden by the thick fog, + was full of strange creatures which were swimming all around me. I felt + horribly uncomfortable, my forehead felt as if it had a tight band round + it, my heart beat so that it almost suffocated me, and, almost beside + myself, I thought of swimming away from the place. But then, again, the + very idea made me tremble with fear. I saw myself, lost, going by + guesswork in this heavy fog, struggling about amid the grasses and reeds + which I could not escape, my breath rattling with fear, neither seeing the + bank, nor finding my boat; and it seemed as if I would feel myself dragged + down by the feet to the bottom of these black waters. + </p> + <p> + In fact, as I should have had to ascend the stream at least five hundred + metres before finding a spot free from grasses and rushes where I could + land, there were nine chances to one that I could not find my way in the + fog and that I should drown, no matter how well I could swim. + </p> + <p> + I tried to reason with myself. My will made me resolve not to be afraid, + but there was something in me besides my will, and that other thing was + afraid. I asked myself what there was to be afraid of. My brave “ego” + ridiculed my coward “ego,” and never did I realize, as on that + day, the existence in us of two rival personalities, one desiring a thing, + the other resisting, and each winning the day in turn. + </p> + <p> + This stupid, inexplicable fear increased, and became terror. I remained + motionless, my eyes staring, my ears on the stretch with expectation. Of + what? I did not know, but it must be something terrible. I believe if it + had occurred to a fish to jump out of the water, as often happens, nothing + more would have been required to make me fall over, stiff and unconscious. + </p> + <p> + However, by a violent effort I succeeded in becoming almost rational + again. I took up my bottle of rum and took several pulls. Then an idea + came to me, and I began to shout with all my might towards all the points + of the compass in succession. When my throat was absolutely paralyzed I + listened. A dog was howling, at a great distance. + </p> + <p> + I drank some more rum and stretched myself out at the bottom of the boat. + I remained there about an hour, perhaps two, not sleeping, my eyes wide + open, with nightmares all about me. I did not dare to rise, and yet I + intensely longed to do so. I delayed it from moment to moment. I said to + myself: “Come, get up!” and I was afraid to move. At last I + raised myself with infinite caution as though my life depended on the + slightest sound that I might make; and looked over the edge of the boat. I + was dazzled by the most marvellous, the most astonishing sight that it is + possible to see. It was one of those phantasmagoria of fairyland, one of + those sights described by travellers on their return from distant lands, + whom we listen to without believing. + </p> + <p> + The fog which, two hours before, had floated on the water, had gradually + cleared off and massed on the banks, leaving the river absolutely clear; + while it formed on either bank an uninterrupted wall six or seven metres + high, which shone in the moonlight with the dazzling brilliance of snow. + One saw nothing but the river gleaming with light between these two white + mountains; and high above my head sailed the great full moon, in the midst + of a bluish, milky sky. + </p> + <p> + All the creatures in the water were awake. The frogs croaked furiously, + while every few moments I heard, first to the right and then to the left, + the abrupt, monotonous and mournful metallic note of the bullfrogs. + Strange to say, I was no longer afraid. I was in the midst of such an + unusual landscape that the most remarkable things would not have + astonished me. + </p> + <p> + How long this lasted I do not know, for I ended by falling asleep. When I + opened my eyes the moon had gone down and the sky was full of clouds. The + water lapped mournfully, the wind was blowing, it was pitch dark. I drank + the rest of the rum, then listened, while I trembled, to the rustling of + the reeds and the foreboding sound of the river. I tried to see, but could + not distinguish my boat, nor even my hands, which I held up close to my + eyes. + </p> + <p> + Little by little, however, the blackness became less intense. All at once + I thought I noticed a shadow gliding past, quite near me. I shouted, a + voice replied; it was a fisherman. I called him; he came near and I told + him of my ill-luck. He rowed his boat alongside of mine and, together, we + pulled at the anchor chain. The anchor did not move. Day came, gloomy + gray, rainy and cold, one of those days that bring one sorrows and + misfortunes. I saw another boat. We hailed it. The man on board of her + joined his efforts to ours, and gradually the anchor yielded. It rose, but + slowly, slowly, loaded down by a considerable weight. At length we + perceived a black mass and we drew it on board. It was the corpse of an + old women with a big stone round her neck. + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0087"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + THE CRIPPLE + </h2> + <p> + The following adventure happened to me about 1882. I had just taken the + train and settled down in a corner, hoping that I should be left alone, + when the door suddenly opened again and I heard a voice say: “Take + care, monsieur, we are just at a crossing; the step is very high.” + </p> + <p> + Another voice answered: “That's all right, Laurent, I have a firm + hold on the handle.” + </p> + <p> + Then a head appeared, and two hands seized the leather straps hanging on + either side of the door and slowly pulled up an enormous body, whose feet + striking on the step, sounded like two canes. When the man had hoisted his + torso into the compartment I noticed, at the loose edge of his trousers, + the end of a wooden leg, which was soon followed by its mate. A head + appeared behind this traveller and asked; “Are you all right, + monsieur?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, my boy.” + </p> + <p> + “Then here are your packages and crutches.” + </p> + <p> + And a servant, who looked like an old soldier, climbed in, carrying in his + arms a stack of bundles wrapped in black and yellow papers and carefully + tied; he placed one after the other in the net over his master's head. + Then he said: “There, monsieur, that is all. There are five of them—the + candy, the doll the drum, the gun, and the pate de foies gras.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well, my boy.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, Laurent; good health!” + </p> + <p> + The man closed the door and walked away, and I looked at my neighbor. He + was about thirty-five, although his hair was almost white; he wore the + ribbon of the Legion of Honor; he had a heavy mustache and was quite + stout, with the stoutness of a strong and active man who is kept + motionless on account of some infirmity. He wiped his brow, sighed, and, + looking me full in the face, he asked: “Does smoking annoy you, + monsieur?” + </p> + <p> + “No, monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + Surely I knew that eye, that voice, that face. But when and where had I + seen them? I had certainly met that man, spoken to him, shaken his hand. + That was a long, long time ago. It was lost in the haze wherein the mind + seems to feel around blindly for memories and pursues them like fleeing + phantoms without being able to seize them. He, too, was observing me, + staring me out of countenance, with the persistence of a man who remembers + slightly but not completely. Our eyes, embarrassed by this persistent + contact, turned away; then, after a few minutes, drawn together again by + the obscure and tenacious will of working memory, they met once more, and + I said: “Monsieur, instead of staring at each other for an hour or + so, would it not be better to try to discover where we have known each + other?” + </p> + <p> + My neighbor answered graciously: “You are quite right, monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + I named myself: “I am Henri Bonclair, a magistrate.” + </p> + <p> + He hesitated for a few minutes; then, with the vague look and voice which + accompany great mental tension, he said: “Oh, I remember perfectly. + I met you twelve years ago, before the war, at the Poincels!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, monsieur. Ah! Ah! You are Lieutenant Revaliere?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. I was Captain Revaliere even up to the time when I lost my + feet —both of them together from one cannon ball.” + </p> + <p> + Now that we knew each other's identity we looked at each other again. I + remembered perfectly the handsome, slender youth who led the cotillons + with such frenzied agility and gracefulness that he had been nicknamed + “the fury.” Going back into the dim, distant past, I recalled + a story which I had heard and forgotten, one of those stories to which one + listens but forgets, and which leave but a faint impression upon the + memory. + </p> + <p> + There was something about love in it. Little by little the shadows cleared + up, and the face of a young girl appeared before my eyes. Then her name + struck me with the force of an explosion: Mademoiselle de Mandel. I + remembered everything now. It was indeed a love story, but quite + commonplace. The young girl loved this young man, and when I had met them + there was already talk of the approaching wedding. The youth seemed to be + very much in love, very happy. + </p> + <p> + I raised my eye to the net, where all the packages which had been brought + in by the servant were trembling from the motion of the train, and the + voice of the servant came back to me, as if he had just finished speaking. + He had said: “There, monsieur, that is all. There are five of them: + the candy, the doll, the drum, the gun, and the pate de foies gras.” + </p> + <p> + Then, in a second, a whole romance unfolded itself in my head. It was like + all those which I had already read, where the young lady married + notwithstanding the catastrophe, whether physical or financial; therefore, + this officer who had been maimed in the war had returned, after the + campaign, to the young girl who had given him her promise, and she had + kept her word. + </p> + <p> + I considered that very beautiful, but simple, just as one, considers + simple all devotions and climaxes in books or in plays. It always seems, + when one reads or listens to these stories of magnanimity, that one could + sacrifice one's self with enthusiastic pleasure and overwhelming joy. But + the following day, when an unfortunate friend comes to borrow some money, + there is a strange revulsion of feeling. + </p> + <p> + But, suddenly, another supposition, less poetic and more realistic, + replaced the first one. Perhaps he had married before the war, before this + frightful accident, and she, in despair and resignation, had been forced + to receive, care for, cheer, and support this husband, who had departed, a + handsome man, and had returned without his feet, a frightful wreck, forced + into immobility, powerless anger, and fatal obesity. + </p> + <p> + Was he happy or in torture? I was seized with an irresistible desire to + know his story, or, at least, the principal points, which would permit me + to guess that which he could not or would not tell me. Still thinking the + matter over, I began talking to him. We had exchanged a few commonplace + words; and I raised my eyes to the net, and thought: “He must have + three children: the bonbons are for his wife, the doll for his little + girl, the drum and the gun for his sons, and this pate de foies gras for + himself.” + </p> + <p> + Suddenly I asked him: “Are you a father, monsieur?” + </p> + <p> + He answered: “No, monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + I suddenly felt confused, as if I had been guilty of some breach of + etiquette, and I continued: “I beg your pardon. I had thought that + you were when I heard your servant speaking about the toys. One listens + and draws conclusions unconsciously.” + </p> + <p> + He smiled and then murmured: “No, I am not even married. I am still + at the preliminary stage.” + </p> + <p> + I pretended suddenly to remember, and said: + </p> + <p> + “Oh! that's true! When I knew you, you were engaged to Mademoiselle + de Mandel, I believe.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, monsieur, your memory is excellent.” + </p> + <p> + I grew very bold and added: “I also seem to remember hearing that + Mademoiselle de Mandel married Monsieur—Monsieur—” + </p> + <p> + He calmly mentioned the name: “Monsieur de Fleurel.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, that's it! I remember it was on that occasion that I heard of + your wound.” + </p> + <p> + I looked him full in the face, and he blushed. His full face, which was + already red from the oversupply of blood, turned crimson. He answered + quickly, with a sudden ardor of a man who is pleading a cause which is + lost in his mind and in his heart, but which he does not wish to admit. + </p> + <p> + “It is wrong, monsieur, to couple my name with that of Madame de + Fleurel. When I returned from the war-without my feet, alas! I never would + have permitted her to become my wife. Was it possible? When one marries, + monsieur, it is not in order to parade one's generosity; it is in order to + live every day, every hour, every minute, every second beside a man; and + if this man is disfigured, as I am, it is a death sentence to marry him! + Oh, I understand, I admire all sacrifices and devotions when they have a + limit, but I do not admit that a woman should give up her whole life, all + joy, all her dreams, in order to satisfy the admiration of the gallery. + When I hear, on the floor of my room, the tapping of my wooden legs and of + my crutches, I grow angry enough to strangle my servant. Do you think that + I would permit a woman to do what I myself am unable to tolerate? And, + then, do you think that my stumps are pretty?” + </p> + <p> + He was silent. What could I say? He certainly was right. Could I blame + her, hold her in contempt, even say that she was wrong? No. However, the + end which conformed to the rule, to the truth, did not satisfy my poetic + appetite. These heroic deeds demand a beautiful sacrifice, which seemed to + be lacking, and I felt a certain disappointment. I suddenly asked: “Has + Madame de Fleurel any children?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, one girl and two boys. It is for them that I am bringing these + toys. She and her husband are very kind to me.” + </p> + <p> + The train was going up the incline to Saint-Germain. It passed through the + tunnels, entered the station, and stopped. I was about to offer my arm to + the wounded officer, in order to help him descend, when two hands were + stretched up to him through the open door. + </p> + <p> + “Hello! my dear Revaliere!” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! Hello, Fleurel!” + </p> + <p> + Standing behind the man, the woman, still beautiful, was smiling and + waving her hands to him. A little girl, standing beside her, was jumping + for joy, and two young boys were eagerly watching the drum and the gun, + which were passing from the car into their father's hands. + </p> + <p> + When the cripple was on the ground, all the children kissed him. Then they + set off, the little girl holding in her hand the small varnished rung of a + crutch, just as she might walk beside her big friend and hold his thumb. + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0088"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + A STROLL + </h2> + <p> + When Old Man Leras, bookkeeper for Messieurs Labuze and Company, left the + store, he stood for a minute bewildered at the glory of the setting sun. + He had worked all day in the yellow light of a small jet of gas, far in + the back of the store, on a narrow court, as deep as a well. The little + room where he had been spending his days for forty years was so dark that + even in the middle of summer one could hardly see without gaslight from + eleven until three. + </p> + <p> + It was always damp and cold, and from this hole on which his window opened + came the musty odor of a sewer. + </p> + <p> + For forty years Monsieur Leras had been arriving every morning in this + prison at eight o'clock, and he would remain there until seven at night, + bending over his books, writing with the industry of a good clerk. + </p> + <p> + He was now making three thousand francs a year, having started at fifteen + hundred. He had remained a bachelor, as his means did not allow him the + luxury of a wife, and as he had never enjoyed anything, he desired + nothing. From time to time, however, tired of this continuous and + monotonous work, he formed a platonic wish: “Gad! If I only had an + income of fifteen thousand francs, I would take life easy.” + </p> + <p> + He had never taken life easy, as he had never had anything but his monthly + salary. His life had been uneventful, without emotions, without hopes. The + faculty of dreaming with which every one is blessed had never developed in + the mediocrity of his ambitions. + </p> + <p> + When he was twenty-one he entered the employ of Messieurs Labuze and + Company. And he had never left them. + </p> + <p> + In 1856 he had lost his father and then his mother in 1859. Since then the + only incident in his life was when he moved, in 1868, because his landlord + had tried to raise his rent. + </p> + <p> + Every day his alarm clock, with a frightful noise of rattling chains, made + him spring out of bed at 6 o'clock precisely. + </p> + <p> + Twice, however, this piece of mechanism had been out of order—once + in 1866 and again in 1874; he had never been able to find out the reason + why. He would dress, make his bed, sweep his room, dust his chair and the + top of his bureau. All this took him an hour and a half. + </p> + <p> + Then he would go out, buy a roll at the Lahure Bakery, in which he had + seen eleven different owners without the name ever changing, and he would + eat this roll on the way to the office. + </p> + <p> + His entire existence had been spent in the narrow, dark office, which was + still decorated with the same wall paper. He had entered there as a young + man, as assistant to Monsieur Brument, and with the desire to replace him. + </p> + <p> + He had taken his place and wished for nothing more. + </p> + <p> + The whole harvest of memories which other men reap in their span of years, + the unexpected events, sweet or tragic loves, adventurous journeys, all + the occurrences of a free existence, all these things had remained unknown + to him. + </p> + <p> + Days, weeks, months, seasons, years, all were alike to him. He got up + every day at the same hour, started out, arrived at the office, ate + luncheon, went away, had dinner and went to bed without ever interrupting + the regular monotony of similar actions, deeds and thoughts. + </p> + <p> + Formerly he used to look at his blond mustache and wavy hair in the little + round mirror left by his predecessor. Now, every evening before leaving, + he would look at his white mustache and bald head in the same mirror. + Forty years had rolled by, long and rapid, dreary as a day of sadness and + as similar as the hours of a sleepless night. Forty years of which nothing + remained, not even a memory, not even a misfortune, since the death of his + parents. Nothing. + </p> + <p> + That day Monsieur Leras stood by the door, dazzled at the brilliancy of + the setting sun; and instead of returning home he decided to take a little + stroll before dinner, a thing which happened to him four or five times a + year. + </p> + <p> + He reached the boulevards, where people were streaming along under the + green trees. It was a spring evening, one of those first warm and pleasant + evenings which fill the heart with the joy of life. + </p> + <p> + Monsieur Leras went along with his mincing old man's step; he was going + along with joy in his heart, at peace with the world. He reached the + Champs-Elysees, and he continued to walk, enlivened by the sight of the + young people trotting along. + </p> + <p> + The whole sky was aflame; the Arc de Triomphe stood out against the + brilliant background of the horizon, like a giant surrounded by fire. As + he approached the immense monument, the old bookkeeper noticed that he was + hungry, and he went into a wine dealer's for dinner. + </p> + <p> + The meal was served in front of the store, on the sidewalk. It consisted + of some mutton, salad and asparagus. It was the best dinner that Monsieur + Leras had had in a long time. He washed down his cheese with a small + bottle of burgundy, had his after-dinner cup of coffee, a thing which he + rarely took, and finally a little pony of brandy. + </p> + <p> + When he had paid he felt quite youthful, even a little moved. And he said + to himself: “What a fine evening! I will continue my stroll as far + as the entrance to the Bois de Boulogne. It will do me good.” He set + out. An old tune which one of his neighbors used to sing kept returning to + his mind. He kept on humming it over and over again. A hot, still night + had fallen over Paris. Monsieur Leras walked along the Avenue du Bois de + Boulogne and watched the cabs drive by. They kept coming with their + shining lights, one behind the other, giving him a glimpse of the couples + inside, the women in their light dresses and the men dressed in black. + </p> + <p> + It was one long procession of lovers, riding under the warm, starlit sky. + They kept on coming in rapid succession. They passed by in the carriages, + silent, side by side, lost in their dreams, in the emotion of desire, in + the anticipation of the approaching embrace. The warm shadows seemed to be + full of floating kisses. A sensation of tenderness filled the air. All + these carriages full of tender couples, all these people intoxicated with + the same idea, with the same thought, seemed to give out a disturbing, + subtle emanation. + </p> + <p> + At last Monsieur Leras grew a little tired of walking, and he sat down on + a bench to watch these carriages pass by with their burdens of love. + Almost immediately a woman walked up to him and sat down beside him. + “Good-evening, papa,” she said. + </p> + <p> + He answered: “Madame, you are mistaken.” + </p> + <p> + She slipped her arm through his, saying: “Come along, now; don't be + foolish. Listen——” + </p> + <p> + He arose and walked away, with sadness in his heart. A few yards away + another woman walked up to him and asked: “Won't you sit down beside + me?” He said: “What makes you take up this life?” + </p> + <p> + She stood before him and in an altered, hoarse, angry voice exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “Well, it isn't for the fun of it, anyhow!” + </p> + <p> + He insisted in a gentle voice: “Then what makes you?” + </p> + <p> + She grumbled: “I've got to live! Foolish question!” And she + walked away, humming. + </p> + <p> + Monsieur Leras stood there bewildered. Other women were passing near him, + speaking to him and calling to him. He felt as though he were enveloped in + darkness by something disagreeable. + </p> + <p> + He sat down again on a bench. The carriages were still rolling by. He + thought: “I should have done better not to come here; I feel all + upset.” He began to think of all this venal or passionate love, of + all these kisses, sold or given, which were passing by in front of him. + Love! He scarcely knew it. In his lifetime he had only known two or three + women, his means forcing him to live a quiet life, and he looked back at + the life which he had led, so different from everybody else, so dreary, so + mournful, so empty. + </p> + <p> + Some people are really unfortunate. And suddenly, as though a veil had + been torn from his eyes, he perceived the infinite misery, the monotony of + his existence: the past, present and future misery; his last day similar + to his first one, with nothing before him, behind him or about him, + nothing in his heart or any place. + </p> + <p> + The stream of carriages was still going by. In the rapid passage of the + open carriage he still saw the two silent, loving creatures. It seemed to + him that the whole of humanity was flowing on before him, intoxicated with + joy, pleasure and happiness. He alone was looking on. To-morrow he would + again be alone, always alone, more so than any one else. He stood up, took + a few steps, and suddenly he felt as tired as though he had taken a long + journey on foot, and he sat down on the next bench. + </p> + <p> + What was he waiting for? What was he hoping for? Nothing. He was thinking + of how pleasant it must be in old age to return home and find the little + children. It is pleasant to grow old when one is surrounded by those + beings who owe their life to you, who love you, who caress you, who tell + you charming and foolish little things which warm your heart and console + you for everything. + </p> + <p> + And, thinking of his empty room, clean and sad, where no one but himself + ever entered, a feeling of distress filled his soul; and the place seemed + to him more mournful even than his little office. Nobody ever came there; + no one ever spoke in it. It was dead, silent, without the echo of a human + voice. It seems as though walls retain something of the people who live + within them, something of their manner, face and voice. The very houses + inhabited by happy families are gayer than the dwellings of the unhappy. + His room was as barren of memories as his life. And the thought of + returning to this place, all alone, of getting into his bed, of again + repeating all the duties and actions of every evening, this thought + terrified him. As though to escape farther from this sinister home, and + from the time when he would have to return to it, he arose and walked + along a path to a wooded corner, where he sat down on the grass. + </p> + <p> + About him, above him, everywhere, he heard a continuous, tremendous, + confused rumble, composed of countless and different noises, a vague and + throbbing pulsation of life: the life breath of Paris, breathing like a + giant. + </p> + <p> + The sun was already high and shed a flood of light on the Bois de + Boulogne. A few carriages were beginning to drive about and people were + appearing on horseback. + </p> + <p> + A couple was walking through a deserted alley. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly the young woman raised her eyes and saw something brown in the + branches. Surprised and anxious, she raised her hand, exclaiming: “Look! + what is that?” + </p> + <p> + Then she shrieked and fell into the arms of her companion, who was forced + to lay her on the ground. + </p> + <p> + The policeman who had been called cut down an old man who had hung himself + with his suspenders. + </p> + <p> + Examination showed that he had died the evening before. Papers found on + him showed that he was a bookkeeper for Messieurs Labuze and Company and + that his name was Leras. + </p> + <p> + His death was attributed to suicide, the cause of which could not be + suspected. Perhaps a sudden access of madness! + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0089"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + ALEXANDRE + </h2> + <p> + At four o'clock that day, as on every other day, Alexandre rolled the + three-wheeled chair for cripples up to the door of the little house; then, + in obedience to the doctor's orders, he would push his old and infirm + mistress about until six o'clock. + </p> + <p> + When he had placed the light vehicle against the step, just at the place + where the old lady could most easily enter it, he went into the house; and + soon a furious, hoarse old soldier's voice was heard cursing inside the + house: it issued from the master, the retired ex-captain of infantry, + Joseph Maramballe. + </p> + <p> + Then could be heard the noise of doors being slammed, chairs being pushed + about, and hasty footsteps; then nothing more. After a few seconds, + Alexandre reappeared on the threshold, supporting with all his strength + Madame Maramballe, who was exhausted from the exertion of descending the + stairs. When she was at last settled in the rolling chair, Alexandre + passed behind it, grasped the handle, and set out toward the river. + </p> + <p> + Thus they crossed the little town every day amid the respectful greeting, + of all. These bows were perhaps meant as much for the servant as for the + mistress, for if she was loved and esteemed by all, this old trooper, with + his long, white, patriarchal beard, was considered a model domestic. + </p> + <p> + The July sun was beating down unmercifully on the street, bathing the low + houses in its crude and burning light. Dogs were sleeping on the sidewalk + in the shade of the houses, and Alexandre, a little out of breath, + hastened his footsteps in order sooner to arrive at the avenue which leads + to the water. + </p> + <p> + Madame Maramballe was already slumbering under her white parasol, the + point of which sometimes grazed along the man's impassive face. As soon as + they had reached the Allee des Tilleuls, she awoke in the shade of the + trees, and she said in a kindly voice: “Go more slowly, my poor boy; + you will kill yourself in this heat.” + </p> + <p> + Along this path, completely covered by arched linden trees, the Mavettek + flowed in its winding bed bordered by willows. + </p> + <p> + The gurgling of the eddies and the splashing of the little waves against + the rocks lent to the walk the charming music of babbling water and the + freshness of damp air. Madame Maramballe inhaled with deep delight the + humid charm of this spot and then murmured: “Ah! I feel better now! + But he wasn't in a good humor to-day.” + </p> + <p> + Alexandre answered: “No, madame.” + </p> + <p> + For thirty-five years he had been in the service of this couple, first as + officer's orderly, then as simple valet who did not wish to leave his + masters; and for the last six years, every afternoon, he had been wheeling + his mistress about through the narrow streets of the town. From this long + and devoted service, and then from this daily tete-a-tete, a kind of + familiarity arose between the old lady and the devoted servant, + affectionate on her part, deferential on his. + </p> + <p> + They talked over the affairs of the house exactly as if they were equals. + Their principal subject of conversation and of worry was the bad + disposition of the captain, soured by a long career which had begun with + promise, run along without promotion, end ended without glory. + </p> + <p> + Madame Maramballe continued: “He certainly was not in a good humor + today. This happens too often since he has left the service.” + </p> + <p> + And Alexandre, with a sigh, completed his mistress's thoughts, “Oh, + madame might say that it happens every day and that it also happened + before leaving the army.” + </p> + <p> + “That is true. But the poor man has been so unfortunate. He began + with a brave deed, which obtained for him the Legion of Honor at the age + of twenty; and then from twenty to fifty he was not able to rise higher + than captain, whereas at the beginning he expected to retire with at least + the rank of colonel.” + </p> + <p> + “Madame might also admit that it was his fault. If he had not always + been as cutting as a whip, his superiors would have loved and protected + him better. Harshness is of no use; one should try to please if one wishes + to advance. As far as his treatment of us is concerned, it is also our + fault, since we are willing to remain with him, but with others it's + different.” + </p> + <p> + Madame Maramballe was thinking. Oh, for how many years had she thus been + thinking of the brutality of her husband, whom she had married long ago + because he was a handsome officer, decorated quite young, and full of + promise, so they said! What mistakes one makes in life! + </p> + <p> + She murmured: “Let us stop a while, my poor Alexandre, and you rest + on that bench:” + </p> + <p> + It was a little worm-eaten bench, placed at a turn in the alley. Every + time they came in this direction Alexandre was accustomed to making a + short pause on this seat. + </p> + <p> + He sat down and with a proud and familiar gesture he took his beautiful + white beard in his hand, and, closing his, fingers over it, ran them down + to the point, which he held for a minute at the pit of his stomach, as if + once more to verify the length of this growth. + </p> + <p> + Madame Maramballe continued: “I married him; it is only just and + natural that I should bear his injustice; but what I do not understand is + why you also should have supported it, my good Alexandre!” + </p> + <p> + He merely shrugged his shoulders and answered: “Oh! I—madame.” + </p> + <p> + She added: “Really. I have often wondered. When I married him you + were his orderly and you could hardly do otherwise than endure him. But + why did you remain with us, who pay you so little and who treat you so + badly, when you could have done as every one else does, settle down, + marry, have a family?” + </p> + <p> + He answered: “Oh, madame! with me it's different.” + </p> + <p> + Then he was silent; but he kept pulling his beard as if he were ringing a + bell within him, as if he were trying to pull it out, and he rolled his + eyes like a man who is greatly embarrassed. + </p> + <p> + Madame Maramballe was following her own train of thought: “You are + not a peasant. You have an education—” + </p> + <p> + He interrupted her proudly: “I studied surveying, madame.” + </p> + <p> + “Then why did you stay with us, and blast your prospects?” + </p> + <p> + He stammered: “That's it! that's it! it's the fault of my + dispositton.” + </p> + <p> + “How so, of your disposition?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, when I become attached to a person I become attached to him, + that's all.” + </p> + <p> + She began to laugh: “You are not going to try to tell me that + Maramballe's sweet disposition caused you to become attached to him for + life.” + </p> + <p> + He was fidgeting about on his bench visibly embarrassed, and he muttered + behind his long beard: + </p> + <p> + “It was not he, it was you!” + </p> + <p> + The old lady, who had a sweet face, with a snowy line of curly white hair + between her forehead and her bonnet, turned around in her chair and + observed her servant with a surprised look, exclaiming: “I, my poor + Alexandre! How so?” + </p> + <p> + He began to look up in the air, then to one side, then toward the + distance, turning his head as do timid people when forced to admit + shameful secrets. At last he exclaimed, with the courage of a trooper who + is ordered to the line of fire: “You see, it's this way—the + first time I brought a letter to mademoiselle from the lieutenant, + mademoiselle gave me a franc and a smile, and that settled it.” + </p> + <p> + Not understanding well, she questioned him “Explain yourself.” + </p> + <p> + Then he cried out, like a malefactor who is admitting a fatal crime: + “I had a sentiment for madame! There!” + </p> + <p> + She answered nothing, stopped looking at him, hung her head, and thought. + She was good, full of justice, gentleness, reason, and tenderness. In a + second she saw the immense devotion of this poor creature, who had given + up everything in order to live beside her, without saying anything. And + she felt as if she could cry. Then, with a sad but not angry expression, + she said: “Let us return home.” + </p> + <p> + He rose and began to push the wheeled chair. + </p> + <p> + As they approached the village they saw Captain Maramballe coming toward + them. As soon as he joined them he asked his wife, with a visible desire + of getting angry: “What have we for dinner?” + </p> + <p> + “Some chicken with flageolets.” + </p> + <p> + He lost his temper: “Chicken! chicken! always chicken! By all that's + holy, I've had enough chicken! Have you no ideas in your head, that you + make me eat chicken every day?” + </p> + <p> + She answered, in a resigned tone: “But, my dear, you know that the + doctor has ordered it for you. It's the best thing for your stomach. If + your stomach were well, I could give you many things which I do not dare + set before you now.” + </p> + <p> + Then, exasperated, he planted himself in front of Alexandre, exclaiming: + “Well, if my stomach is out of order it's the fault of that brute. + For thirty-five years he has been poisoning me with his abominable + cooking.” + </p> + <p> + Madame Maramballe suddenly turned about completely, in order to see the + old domestic. Their eyes met, and in this single glance they both said + “Thank you!” to each other. + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0090"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + THE LOG + </h2> + <p> + The drawing-room was small, full of heavy draperies and discreetly + fragrant. A large fire burned in the grate and a solitary lamp at one end + of the mantelpiece threw a soft light on the two persons who were talking. + </p> + <p> + She, the mistress of the house, was an old lady with white hair, but one + of those old ladies whose unwrinkled skin is as smooth as the finest + paper, and scented, impregnated with perfume, with the delicate essences + which she had used in her bath for so many years. + </p> + <p> + He was a very old friend, who had never married, a constant friend, a + companion in the journey of life, but nothing more. + </p> + <p> + They had not spoken for about a minute, and were both looking at the fire, + dreaming of no matter what, in one of those moments of friendly silence + between people who have no need to be constantly talking in order to be + happy together, when suddenly a large log, a stump covered with burning + roots, fell out. It fell over the firedogs into the drawing-room and + rolled on to the carpet, scattering great sparks around it. The old lady, + with a little scream, sprang to her feet to run away, while he kicked the + log back on to the hearth and stamped out all the burning sparks with his + boots. + </p> + <p> + When the disaster was remedied, there was a strong smell of burning, and, + sitting down opposite to his friend, the man looked at her with a smile + and said, as he pointed to the log: + </p> + <p> + “That is the reason why I never married.” + </p> + <p> + She looked at him in astonishment, with the inquisitive gaze of women who + wish to know everything, that eye which women have who are no longer very + young,—in which a complex, and often roguish, curiosity is + reflected, and she asked: + </p> + <p> + “How so?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, it is a long story,” he replied; “a rather sad and + unpleasant story. + </p> + <p> + “My old friends were often surprised at the coldness which suddenly + sprang up between one of my best friends whose Christian name was Julien, + and myself. They could not understand how two such intimate and + inseparable friends, as we had been, could suddenly become almost + strangers to one another, and I will tell you the reason of it. + </p> + <p> + “He and I used to live together at one time. We were never apart, + and the friendship that united us seemed so strong that nothing could + break it. + </p> + <p> + “One evening when he came home, he told me that he was going to get + married, and it gave me a shock as if he had robbed me or betrayed me. + When a man's friend marries, it is all over between them. The jealous + affection of a woman, that suspicious, uneasy and carnal affection, will + not tolerate the sturdy and frank attachment, that attachment of the mind, + of the heart, and that mutual confidence which exists between two men. + </p> + <p> + “You see, however great the love may be that unites them a man and a + woman are always strangers in mind and intellect; they remain + belligerents, they belong to different races. There must always be a + conqueror and a conquered, a master and a slave; now the one, now the + other—they are never two equals. They press each other's hands, + those hands trembling with amorous passion; but they never press them with + a long, strong, loyal pressure, with that pressure which seems to open + hearts and to lay them bare in a burst of sincere, strong, manly + affection. Philosophers of old, instead of marrying, and procreating as a + consolation for their old age children, who would abandon them, sought for + a good, reliable friend, and grew old with him in that communion of + thought which can only exist between men. + </p> + <p> + “Well, my friend Julien married. His wife was pretty, charming, a + little, curly-haired blonde, plump and lively, who seemed to worship him. + At first I went but rarely to their house, feeling myself de trop. But, + somehow, they attracted me to their home; they were constantly inviting + me, and seemed very fond of me. Consequently, by degrees, I allowed myself + to be allured by the charm of their life. I often dined with them, and + frequently, when I returned home at night, thought that I would do as he + had done, and get married, as my empty house now seemed very dull. + </p> + <p> + “They appeared to be very much in love, and were never apart. + </p> + <p> + “Well, one evening Julien wrote and asked me to go to dinner, and I + naturally went. + </p> + <p> + “'My dear fellow,' he said, 'I must go out directly afterward on + business, and I shall not be back until eleven o'clock; but I shall be + back at eleven precisely, and I reckon on you to keep Bertha company.' + </p> + <p> + “The young woman smiled. + </p> + <p> + “'It was my idea,' she said, 'to send for you.' + </p> + <p> + “I held out my hand to her. + </p> + <p> + “'You are as nice as ever, I said, and I felt a long, friendly + pressure of my fingers, but I paid no attention to it; so we sat down to + dinner, and at eight o'clock Julien went out. + </p> + <p> + “As soon as he had gone, a kind of strange embarrassment immediately + seemed to arise between his wife and me. We had never been alone together + yet, and in spite of our daily increasing intimacy, this tete-a-tete + placed us in a new position. At first I spoke vaguely of those indifferent + matters with which one fills up an embarrassing silence, but she did not + reply, and remained opposite to me with her head down in an undecided + manner, as if she were thinking over some difficult subject, and as I was + at a loss for small talk, I held my tongue. It is surprising how hard it + is at times to find anything to say. + </p> + <p> + “And then also I felt something in the air, something I could not + express, one of those mysterious premonitions that warn one of another + person's secret intentions in regard to yourself, whether they be good or + evil. + </p> + <p> + “That painful silence lasted some time, and then Bertha said to me: + </p> + <p> + “'Will you kindly put a log on the fire for it is going out.' + </p> + <p> + “So I opened the box where the wood was kept, which was placed just + where yours is, took out the largest log and put it on top of the others, + which were three parts burned, and then silence again reigned in the room. + </p> + <p> + “In a few minutes the log was burning so brightly that it scorched + our faces, and the young woman raised her eyes to mine—eyes that had + a strange look to me. + </p> + <p> + “'It is too hot now,' she said; 'let us go and sit on the sofa over + there.' + </p> + <p> + “So we went and sat on the sofa, and then she said suddenly, looking + me full in the face: + </p> + <p> + “'What would you do if a woman were to tell you that she was in love + with you?' + </p> + <p> + “'Upon my word,' I replied, very much at a loss for an answer, 'I + cannot foresee such a case; but it would depend very much upon the woman.' + </p> + <p> + “She gave a hard, nervous, vibrating laugh; one of those false + laughs which seem as if they must break thin glass, and then she added: + 'Men are never either venturesome or spiteful.' And, after a moment's + silence, she continued: 'Have you ever been in love, Monsieur Paul?' I was + obliged to acknowledge that I certainly had, and she asked me to tell her + all about it. Whereupon I made up some story or other. She listened to me + attentively, with frequent signs of disapproval and contempt, and then + suddenly she said: + </p> + <p> + “'No, you understand nothing about the subject. It seems to me that + real love must unsettle the mind, upset the nerves and distract the head; + that it must—how shall I express it?—be dangerous, even + terrible, almost criminal and sacrilegious; that it must be a kind of + treason; I mean to say that it is bound to break laws, fraternal bonds, + sacred obligations; when love is tranquil, easy, lawful and without + dangers, is it really love?' + </p> + <p> + “I did not know what answer to give her, and I made this + philosophical reflection to myself: 'Oh! female brain, here; indeed, you + show yourself!' + </p> + <p> + “While speaking, she had assumed a demure saintly air; and, resting + on the cushions, she stretched herself out at full length, with her head + on my shoulder, and her dress pulled up a little so as to show her red + stockings, which the firelight made look still brighter. In a minute or + two she continued: + </p> + <p> + “'I suppose I have frightened you?' I protested against such a + notion, and she leaned against my breast altogether, and without looking + at me, she said: 'If I were to tell you that I love you, what would you + do?' + </p> + <p> + “And before I could think of an answer, she had thrown her arms + around my neck, had quickly drawn my head down, and put her lips to mine. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! My dear friend, I can tell you that I did not feel at all + happy! What! deceive Julien? become the lover of this little, silly, + wrong-headed, deceitful woman, who was, no doubt, terribly sensual, and + whom her husband no longer satisfied. + </p> + <p> + “To betray him continually, to deceive him, to play at being in love + merely because I was attracted by forbidden fruit, by the danger incurred + and the friendship betrayed! No, that did not suit me, but what was I to + do? To imitate Joseph would be acting a very stupid and, moreover, + difficult part, for this woman was enchanting in her perfidy, inflamed by + audacity, palpitating and excited. Let the man who has never felt on his + lips the warm kiss of a woman who is ready to give herself to him throw + the first stone at me. + </p> + <p> + “Well, a minute more—you understand what I mean? A minute + more, and—I should have been—no, she would have been!—I + beg your pardon, he would have been—when a loud noise made us both + jump up. The log had fallen into the room, knocking over the fire irons + and the fender, and on to the carpet, which it had scorched, and had + rolled under an armchair, which it would certainly set alight. + </p> + <p> + “I jumped up like a madman, and, as I was replacing on the fire that + log which had saved me, the door opened hastily, and Julien came in. + </p> + <p> + “'I am free,' he said, with evident pleasure. 'The business was over + two hours sooner than I expected!' + </p> + <p> + “Yes, my dear friend, without that log, I should have been caught in + the very act, and you know what the consequences would have been! + </p> + <p> + “You may be sure that I took good care never to be found in a + similar situation again, never, never. Soon afterward I saw that Julien + was giving me the 'cold shoulder,' as they say. His wife was evidently + undermining our friendship. By degrees he got rid of me, and we have + altogether ceased to meet. + </p> + <p> + “I never married, which ought not to surprise you, I think.” + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0091"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + JULIE ROMAIN + </h2> + <p> + Two years ago this spring I was making a walking tour along the shore of + the Mediterranean. Is there anything more pleasant than to meditate while + walking at a good pace along a highway? One walks in the sunlight, through + the caressing breeze, at the foot of the mountains, along the coast of the + sea. And one dreams! What a flood of illusions, loves, adventures pass + through a pedestrian's mind during a two hours' march! What a crowd of + confused and joyous hopes enter into you with the mild, light air! You + drink them in with the breeze, and they awaken in your heart a longing for + happiness which increases with the hun ger induced by walking. The + fleeting, charming ideas fly and sing like birds. + </p> + <p> + I was following that long road which goes from Saint Raphael to Italy, or, + rather, that long, splendid panoramic highway which seems made for the + representation of all the love-poems of earth. And I thought that from + Cannes, where one poses, to Monaco, where one gambles, people come to this + spot of the earth for hardly any other purpose than to get embroiled or to + throw away money on chance games, displaying under this delicious sky and + in this garden of roses and oranges all base vanities and foolish + pretensions and vile lusts, showing up the human mind such as it is, + servile, ignorant, arrogant and full of cupidity. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly I saw some villas in one of those ravishing bays that one meets + at every turn of the mountain; there were only four or five fronting the + sea at the foot of the mountains, and behind them a wild fir wood slopes + into two great valleys, that were untraversed by roads. I stopped short + before one of these chalets, it was so pretty: a small white house with + brown trimmings, overrun with rambler roses up to the top. + </p> + <p> + The garden was a mass of flowers, of all colors and all kinds, mixed in a + coquettish, well-planned disorder. The lawn was full of them, big pots + flanked each side of every step of the porch, pink or yellow clusters + framed each window, and the terrace with the stone balustrade, which + enclosed this pretty little dwelling, had a garland of enormous red bells, + like drops of blood. Behind the house I saw a long avenue of orange trees + in blossom, which went up to the foot of the mountain. + </p> + <p> + Over the door appeared the name, “Villa d'Antan,” in small + gold letters. + </p> + <p> + I asked myself what poet or what fairy was living there, what inspired, + solitary being had discovered this spot and created this dream house, + which seemed to nestle in a nosegay. + </p> + <p> + A workman was breaking stones up the street, and I went to him to ask the + name of the proprietor of this jewel. + </p> + <p> + “It is Madame Julie Romain,” he replied. + </p> + <p> + Julie Romain! In my childhood, long ago, I had heard them speak of this + great actress, the rival of Rachel. + </p> + <p> + No woman ever was more applauded and more loved—especially more + loved! What duets and suicides on her account and what sensational + adventures! How old was this seductive woman now? Sixty, seventy, + seventy-five! Julie Romain here, in this house! The woman who had been + adored by the greatest musician and the most exquisite poet of our land! I + still remember the sensation (I was then twelve years of age) which her + flight to Sicily with the latter, after her rupture with the former, + caused throughout France. + </p> + <p> + She had left one evening, after a premiere, where the audience had + applauded her for a whole half hour, and had recalled her eleven times in + succession. She had gone away with the poet, in a post-chaise, as was the + fashion then; they had crossed the sea, to love each other in that antique + island, the daughter of Greece, in that immense orange wood which + surrounds Palermo, and which is called the “Shell of Gold.” + </p> + <p> + People told of their ascension of Mount Etna and how they had leaned over + the immense crater, arm in arm, cheek to cheek, as if to throw themselves + into the very abyss. + </p> + <p> + Now he was dead, that maker of verses so touching and so profound that + they turned, the heads of a whole generation, so subtle and so mysterious + that they opened a new world to the younger poets. + </p> + <p> + The other one also was dead—the deserted one, who had attained + through her musical periods that are alive in the memories of all, periods + of triumph and of despair, intoxicating triumph and heartrending despair. + </p> + <p> + And she was there, in that house veiled by flowers. + </p> + <p> + I did not hesitate, but rang the bell. + </p> + <p> + A small servant answered, a boy of eighteen with awkward mien and clumsy + hands. I wrote in pencil on my card a gallant compliment to the actress, + begging her to receive me. Perhaps, if she knew my name, she would open + her door to me. + </p> + <p> + The little valet took it in, and then came back, asking me to follow him. + He led me to a neat and decorous salon, furnished in the Louis-Philippe + style, with stiff and heavy furniture, from which a little maid of + sixteen, slender but not pretty, took off the covers in my honor. + </p> + <p> + Then I was left alone. + </p> + <p> + On the walls hung three portraits, that of the actress in one of her + roles, that of the poet in his close-fitting greatcoat and the ruffled + shirt then in style, and that of the musician seated at a piano. + </p> + <p> + She, blond, charming, but affected, according to the fashion of her day, + was smiling, with her pretty mouth and blue eyes; the painting was + careful, fine, elegant, but lifeless. + </p> + <p> + Those faces seemed to be already looking upon posterity. + </p> + <p> + The whole place had the air of a bygone time, of days that were done and + men who had vanished. + </p> + <p> + A door opened and a little woman entered, old, very old, very small, with + white hair and white eyebrows, a veritable white mouse, and as quick and + furtive of movement. + </p> + <p> + She held out her hand to me, saying in a voice still fresh, sonorous and + vibrant: + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, monsieur. How kind it is of the men of to-day to + remember the women of yesterday! Sit down.” + </p> + <p> + I told her that her house had attracted me, that I had inquired for the + proprietor's name, and that, on learning it, I could not resist the desire + to ring her bell. + </p> + <p> + “This gives me all the more pleasure, monsieur,” she replied, + “as it is the first time that such a thing has happened. When I + received your card, with the gracious note, I trembled as if an old friend + who had disappeared for twenty years had been announced to me. I am like a + dead body, whom no one remembers, of whom no one will think until the day + when I shall actually die; then the newspapers will mention Julie Romain + for three days, relating anecdotes and details of my life, reviving + memories, and praising me greatly. Then all will be over with me.” + </p> + <p> + After a few moments of silence, she continued: + </p> + <p> + “And this will not be so very long now. In a few months, in a few + days, nothing will remain but a little skeleton of this little woman who + is now alive.” + </p> + <p> + She raised her eyes toward her portrait, which smiled down upon this + caricature of herself; then she looked at those of the two men, the + disdainful poet and the inspired musician, who seemed to say: “What + does this ruin want of us?” + </p> + <p> + An indefinable, poignant, irresistible sadness overwhelmed my heart, the + sadness of existences that have had their day, but who are still debating + with their memories, like a person drowning in deep water. + </p> + <p> + From my seat I could see on the highroad the handsome carriages that were + whirling from Nice to Monaco; inside them I saw young, pretty, rich and + happy women and smiling, satisfied men. Following my eye, she understood + my thought and murmured with a smile of resignation: + </p> + <p> + “One cannot both be and have been.” + </p> + <p> + “How beautiful life must have been for you!” I said. + </p> + <p> + She heaved a great sigh. + </p> + <p> + “Beautiful and sweet! And for that reason I regret it so much.” + </p> + <p> + I saw that she was disposed to talk of herself, so I began to question + her, gently and discreetly, as one might touch bruised flesh. + </p> + <p> + She spoke of her successes, her intoxications and her friends, of her + whole triumphant existence. + </p> + <p> + “Was it on the stage that you found your most intense joys, your + true happiness?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no!” she replied quickly. + </p> + <p> + I smiled; then, raising her eyes to the two portraits, she said, with a + sad glance: + </p> + <p> + “It was with them.” + </p> + <p> + “Which one?” I could not help asking. + </p> + <p> + “Both. I even confuse them up a little now in my old woman's memory, + and then I feel remorse.” + </p> + <p> + “Then, madame, your acknowledgment is not to them, but to Love + itself. They were merely its interpreters.” + </p> + <p> + “That is possible. But what interpreters!” + </p> + <p> + “Are you sure that you have not been, or that you might not have + been, loved as well or better by a simple man, but not a great man, who + would have offered to you his whole life and heart, all his thoughts, all + his days, his whole being, while these gave you two redoubtable rivals, + Music and Poetry?” + </p> + <p> + “No, monsieur, no!” she exclaimed emphatically, with that + still youthful voice, which caused the soul to vibrate. “Another one + might perhaps have loved me more, but he would not have loved me as these + did. Ah! those two sang to me of the music of love as no one else in the + world could have sung of it. How they intoxicated me! Could any other man + express what they knew so well how to express in tones and in words? Is it + enough merely to love if one cannot put all the poetry and all the music + of heaven and earth into love? And they knew how to make a woman delirious + with songs and with words. Yes, perhaps there was more of illusion than of + reality in our passion; but these illusions lift you into the clouds, + while realities always leave you trailing in the dust. If others have + loved me more, through these two I have understood, felt and worshipped + love.” + </p> + <p> + Suddenly she began to weep. + </p> + <p> + She wept silently, shedding tears of despair. + </p> + <p> + I pretended not to see, looking off into the distance. She resumed, after + a few minutes: + </p> + <p> + “You see, monsieur, with nearly every one the heart ages with the + body. But this has not happened with me. My body is sixty-nine years old, + while my poor heart is only twenty. And that is the reason why I live all + alone, with my flowers and my dreams.” + </p> + <p> + There was a long silence between us. She grew calmer and continued, + smiling: + </p> + <p> + “How you would laugh at me, if you knew, if you knew how I pass my + evenings, when the weather is fine. I am ashamed and I pity myself at the + same time.” + </p> + <p> + Beg as I might, she would not tell me what she did. Then I rose to leave. + </p> + <p> + “Already!” she exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + And as I said that I wished to dine at Monte Carlo, she asked timidly: + </p> + <p> + “Will you not dine with me? It would give me a great deal of + pleasure.” + </p> + <p> + I accepted at once. She rang, delighted, and after giving some orders to + the little maid she took me over her house. + </p> + <p> + A kind of glass-enclosed veranda, filled with shrubs, opened into the + dining-room, revealing at the farther end the long avenue of orange trees + extending to the foot of the mountain. A low seat, hidden by plants, + indicated that the old actress often came there to sit down. + </p> + <p> + Then we went into the garden, to look at the flowers. Evening fell softly, + one of those calm, moist evenings when the earth breathes forth all her + perfumes. Daylight was almost gone when we sat down at table. The dinner + was good and it lasted a long time, and we became intimate friends, she + and I, when she understood what a profound sympathy she had aroused in my + heart. She had taken two thimblefuls of wine, as the phrase goes, and had + grown more confiding and expansive. + </p> + <p> + “Come, let us look at the moon,” she said. “I adore the + good moon. She has been the witness of my most intense joys. It seems to + me that all my memories are there, and that I need only look at her to + bring them all back to me. And even—some times—in the evening—I + offer to myself a pretty play—yes, pretty—if you only knew! + But no, you would laugh at me. I cannot—I dare not—no, no—really—no.” + </p> + <p> + I implored her to tell me what it was. + </p> + <p> + “Come, now! come, tell me; I promise you that I will not laugh. I + swear it to you—come, now!” + </p> + <p> + She hesitated. I took her hands—those poor little hands, so thin and + so cold!—and I kissed them one after the other, several times, as + her lovers had once kissed them. She was moved and hesitated. + </p> + <p> + “You promise me not to laugh?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I swear it to you.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, come.” + </p> + <p> + She rose, and as the little domestic, awkward in his green livery, removed + the chair behind her, she whispered quickly a few words into his ear. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, madame, at once,” he replied. + </p> + <p> + She took my arm and led me to the veranda. + </p> + <p> + The avenue of oranges was really splendid to see. The full moon made a + narrow path of silver, a long bright line, which fell on the yellow sand, + between the round, opaque crowns of the dark trees. + </p> + <p> + As these trees were in bloom, their strong, sweet perfume filled the + night, and swarming among their dark foliage I saw thousands of fireflies, + which looked like seeds fallen from the stars. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, what a setting for a love scene!” I exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + She smiled. + </p> + <p> + “Is it not true? Is it not true? You will see!” + </p> + <p> + And she made me sit down beside her. + </p> + <p> + “This is what makes one long for more life. But you hardly think of + these things, you men of to-day. You are speculators, merchants and men of + affairs. + </p> + <p> + “You no longer even know how to talk to us. When I say 'you,' I mean + young men in general. Love has been turned into a liaison which very often + begins with an unpaid dressmaker's bill. If you think the bill is dearer + than the woman, you disappear; but if you hold the woman more highly, you + pay it. Nice morals—and a nice kind of love!” + </p> + <p> + She took my hand. + </p> + <p> + “Look!” + </p> + <p> + I looked, astonished and delighted. Down there at the end of the avenue, + in the moonlight, were two young people, with their arms around each + other's waist. They were walking along, interlaced, charming, with short, + little steps, crossing the flakes of light; which illuminated them + momentarily, and then sinking back into the shadow. The youth was dressed + in a suit of white satin, such as men wore in the eighteenth century, and + had on a hat with an ostrich plume. The girl was arrayed in a gown with + panniers, and the high, powdered coiffure of the handsome dames of the + time of the Regency. + </p> + <p> + They stopped a hundred paces from us, and standing in the middle of the + avenue, they kissed each other with graceful gestures. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly I recognized the two little servants. Then one of those dreadful + fits of laughter that convulse you made me writhe in my chair. But I did + not laugh aloud. I resisted, convulsed and feeling almost ill, as a man + whose leg is cut off resists the impulse to cry out. + </p> + <p> + As the young pair turned toward the farther end of the avenue they again + became delightful. They went farther and farther away, finally + disappearing as a dream disappears. I no longer saw them. The avenue + seemed a sad place. + </p> + <p> + I took my leave at once, so as not to see them again, for I guessed that + this little play would last a long time, awakening, as it did, a whole + past of love and of stage scenery; the artificial past, deceitful and + seductive, false but charming, which still stirred the heart of this + amorous old comedienne. + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0092"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + THE RONDOLI SISTERS + </h2> + <div class='ph3'> + I + </div> + <p> + I set out to see Italy thoroughly on two occasions, and each time I was + stopped at the frontier and could not get any further. So I do not know + Italy, said my friend, Charles Jouvent. And yet my two attempts gave me a + charming idea of the manners of that beautiful country. Some time, + however, I must visit its cities, as well as the museums and works of art + with which it abounds. I will make another attempt to penetrate into the + interior, which I have not yet succeeded in doing. + </p> + <p> + You don't understand me, so I will explain: In the spring of 1874 I was + seized with an irresistible desire to see Venice, Florence, Rome and + Naples. I am, as you know, not a great traveller; it appears to me a + useless and fatiguing business. Nights spent in a train, the disturbed + slumbers of the railway carriage, with the attendant headache, and + stiffness in every limb, the sudden waking in that rolling box, the + unwashed feeling, with your eyes and hair full of dust, the smell of the + coal on which one's lungs feed, those bad dinners in the draughty + refreshment rooms are, according to my ideas, a horrible way of beginning + a pleasure trip. + </p> + <p> + After this introduction, we have the miseries of the hotel; of some great + hotel full of people, and yet so empty; the strange room and the doubtful + bed! + </p> + <p> + I am most particular about my bed; it is the sanctuary of life. We entrust + our almost naked and fatigued bodies to it so that they may be reanimated + by reposing between soft sheets and feathers. + </p> + <p> + There we find the most delightful hours of our existence, the hours of + love and of sleep. The bed is sacred, and should be respected, venerated + and loved by us as the best and most delightful of our earthly + possessions. + </p> + <p> + I cannot lift up the sheets of a hotel bed without a shudder of disgust. + Who has occupied it the night before? Perhaps dirty, revolting people have + slept in it. I begin, then, to think of all the horrible people with whom + one rubs shoulders every day, people with suspicious-looking skin which + makes one think of the feet and all the rest! I call to mind those who + carry about with them the sickening smell of garlic or of humanity. I + think of those who are deformed and unhealthy, of the perspiration + emanating from the sick, of everything that is ugly and filthy in man. + </p> + <p> + And all this, perhaps, in the bed in which I am about to sleep! The mere + idea of it makes me feel ill as I get into it. + </p> + <p> + And then the hotel dinners—those dreary table d'hote dinners in the + midst of all sorts of extraordinary people, or else those terrible + solitary dinners at a small table in a restaurant, feebly lighted by a + wretched composite candle under a shade. + </p> + <p> + Again, those terribly dull evenings in some unknown town! Do you know + anything more wretched than the approach of dusk on such an occasion? One + goes about as if almost in a dream, looking at faces that one never has + seen before and never will see again; listening to people talking about + matters which are quite indifferent to you in a language that perhaps you + do not understand. You have a terrible feeling, almost as if you were + lost, and you continue to walk on so as not to be obliged to return to the + hotel, where you would feel more lost still because you are at home, in a + home which belongs to anyone who can pay for it; and at last you sink into + a chair of some well-lighted cafe, whose gilding and lights oppress you a + thousand times more than the shadows in the streets. Then you feel so + abominably lonely sitting in front of the glass of flat bock beer that a + kind of madness seizes you, the longing to go somewhere or other, no + matter where, as long as you need not remain in front of that marble table + amid those dazzling lights. + </p> + <p> + And then, suddenly, you are aware that you are really alone in the world, + always and everywhere, and that in places which we know, the familiar + jostlings give us the illusion only of human fraternity. At such moments + of self-abandonment and sombre isolation in distant cities one thinks + broadly, clearly and profoundly. Then one suddenly sees the whole of life + outside the vision of eternal hope, apart from the deceptions of our + innate habits, and of our expectations of happiness, which we indulge in + dreams never to be realized. + </p> + <p> + It is only by going a long distance from home that we can fully understand + how short-lived and empty everything near at hand is; by searching for the + unknown, we perceive how commonplace and evanescent everything is; only by + wandering over the face of the earth can we understand how small the world + is, and how very much alike it is everywhere. + </p> + <p> + How well I know, and how I hate and almost fear, those haphazard walks + through unknown streets; and this was the reason why, as nothing would + induce me to undertake a tour in Italy by myself, I made up my mind to + accompany my friend Paul Pavilly. + </p> + <p> + You know Paul, and how he idealizes women. To him the earth is habitable + only because they are there; the sun gives light and is warm because it + shines upon them; the air is soft and balmy because it blows upon their + skin and ruffles the soft hair on their temples; and the moon is charming + because it makes them dream and imparts a languorous charm to love. Every + act and action of Paul's has woman for its motive; all his thoughts, all + his efforts and hopes are centered in them. + </p> + <p> + When I mentioned Italy to Paul he at first absolutely refused to leave + Paris. I, however, began to tell him of the adventures I had on my + travels. I assured him that all Italian women are charming, and I made him + hope for the most refined pleasures at Naples, thanks to certain letters + of introduction which I had; and so at last he allowed himself to be + persuaded. + </p> + <p> + II + </p> + <p> + We took the express one Thursday evening, Paul and I. Hardly anyone goes + south at that time of the year, so that we had the carriages to ourselves, + and both of us were in a bad temper on leaving Paris, sorry for having + yielded to the temptation of this journey, and regretting Marly, the + Seine, and our lazy boating excursions, and all those pleasures in and + near Paris which are so dear to every true Parisian. + </p> + <p> + As soon as the train started Paul stuck himself in his corner, and said, + “It is most idiotic to go all that distance,” and as it was + too late for him to change his mind then, I said, “Well, you should + not have come.” + </p> + <p> + He made no answer, and I felt very much inclined to laugh when I saw how + furious he looked. He is certainly always rather like a squirrel, but then + every one of us has retained the type of some animal or other as the mark + of his primitive origin. How many people have jaws like a bulldog, or + heads like goats, rabbits, foxes, horses, or oxen. Paul is a squirrel + turned into a man. He has its bright, quick eyes, its hair, its pointed + nose, its small, fine, supple, active body, and a certain mysterious + resemblance in his general bearing; in fact, a similarity of movement, of + gesture, and of bearing which might almost be taken for a recollection. + </p> + <p> + At last we both went to sleep with that uncomfortable slumber of the + railway carriage, which is interrupted by horrible cramps in the arms and + neck, and by the sudden stoppages of the train. + </p> + <p> + We woke up as we were passing along the Rhone. Soon the continued noise of + crickets came in through the windows, that cry which seems to be the voice + of the warm earth, the song of Provence; and seemed to instill into our + looks, our breasts, and our souls the light and happy feeling of the + south, that odor of the parched earth, of the stony and light soil of the + olive with its gray-green foliage. + </p> + <p> + When the train stopped again a railway guard ran along the train calling + out “Valence” in a sonorous voice, with an accent that again + gave us a taste of that Provence which the shrill note of the crickets had + already imparted to us. + </p> + <p> + Nothing fresh happened till we got to Marseilles, where we alighted for + breakfast, but when we returned to our carriage we found a woman installed + there. + </p> + <p> + Paul, with a delighted glance at me, gave his short mustache a mechanical + twirl, and passed his fingers through his, hair, which had become slightly + out of order with the night's journey. Then he sat down opposite the + newcomer. + </p> + <p> + Whenever I happen to see a striking new face, either in travelling or in + society, I always have the strongest inclination to find out what + character, mind, and intellectual capacities are hidden beneath those + features. + </p> + <p> + She was a young and pretty woman, certainly a native of the south of + France, with splendid eyes, beautiful wavy black hair, which was so thick + and long that it seemed almost too heavy for her head. She was dressed + with a certain southern bad taste which made her look a little vulgar. Her + regular features had none of the grace and finish of the refined races, of + that slight delicacy which members of the aristocracy inherit from their + birth, and which is the hereditary mark of thinner blood. + </p> + <p> + Her bracelets were too big to be of gold; she wore earrings with large + white stones that were certainly not diamonds, and she belonged + unmistakably to the People. One surmised that she would talk too loud, and + shout on every occasion with exaggerated gestures. + </p> + <p> + When the train started she remained motionless in her place, in the + attitude of a woman who was indignant, without even looking at us. + </p> + <p> + Paul began to talk to me, evidently with an eye to effect, trying to + attract her attention, as shopkeepers expose their choice wares to catch + the notice of passersby. + </p> + <p> + She, however, did not appear to be paying the least attention. + </p> + <p> + “Toulon! Ten minutes to wait! Refreshment room!” the porters + shouted. + </p> + <p> + Paul motioned to me to get out, and as soon as we had done so, he said: + </p> + <p> + “I wonder who on earth she can be?” + </p> + <p> + I began to laugh. “I am sure I don't know, and I don't in the least + care.” + </p> + <p> + He was quite excited. + </p> + <p> + “She is an uncommonly fresh and pretty girl. What eyes she has, and + how cross she looks. She must have been dreadfully worried, for she takes + no notice of anything.” + </p> + <p> + “You will have all your trouble for nothing,” I growled. + </p> + <p> + He began to lose his temper. + </p> + <p> + “I am not taking any trouble, my dear fellow. I think her an + extremely pretty woman, that is all. If one could only speak to her! But I + don't know how to begin. Cannot you give me an idea? Can't you guess who + she is?” + </p> + <p> + “Upon my word, I cannot. However, I should rather think she is some + strolling actress who is going to rejoin her company after a love + adventure.” + </p> + <p> + He seemed quite upset, as if I had said something insulting. + </p> + <p> + “What makes you think that? On the contrary, I think she looks most + respectable.” + </p> + <p> + “Just look at her bracelets,” I said, “her earrings and + her whole dress. I should not be the least surprised if she were a dancer + or a circus rider, but most likely a dancer. Her whole style smacks very + much of the theatre.” + </p> + <p> + He evidently did not like the idea. + </p> + <p> + “She is much too young, I am sure; why, she is hardly twenty.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” I replied, “there are many things which one can + do before one is twenty; dancing and elocution are among them.” + </p> + <p> + “Take your seats for Nice, Vintimiglia,” the guards and + porters called. + </p> + <p> + We got in; our fellow passenger was eating an orange, and certainly she + did not do it elegantly. She had spread her pocket-handkerchief on her + knees, and the way in which she tore off the peel and opened her mouth to + put in the pieces, and then spat the pips out of the window, showed that + her training had been decidedly vulgar. + </p> + <p> + She seemed, also, more put out than ever, and swallowed the fruit with an + exceedingly comic air of rage. + </p> + <p> + Paul devoured her with his eyes, and tried to attract her attention and + excite her curiosity; but in spite of his talk, and of the manner in which + he brought in well-known names, she did not pay the least attention to + him. + </p> + <p> + After passing Frejus and St. Raphael, the train passed through a veritable + garden, a paradise of roses, and groves of oranges and lemons covered with + fruits and flowers at the same time. That delightful coast from Marseilles + to Genoa is a kingdom of perfumes in a home of flowers. + </p> + <p> + June is the time to see it in all its beauty, when in every narrow valley + and on every slope, the most exquisite flowers are growing luxuriantly. + And the roses! fields, hedges, groves of roses. They climb up the walls, + blossom on the roofs, hang from the trees, peep out from among the bushes; + they are white, red, yellow, large and small, single, with a simple + self-colored dress, or full and heavy in brilliant toilettes. + </p> + <p> + Their breath makes the air heavy and relaxing, and the still more + penetrating odor of the orange blossoms sweetens the atmosphere till it + might almost be called the refinement of odor. + </p> + <p> + The shore, with its brown rocks, was bathed by the motionless + Mediterranean. The hot summer sun stretched like a fiery cloth over the + mountains, over the long expanses of sand, and over the motionless, + apparently solid blue sea. The train went on through the tunnels, along + the slopes, above the water, on straight, wall-like viaducts, and a soft, + vague, saltish smell, a smell of drying seaweed, mingled at times with the + strong, heavy perfume of the flowers. + </p> + <p> + But Paul neither saw, looked at, nor smelled anything, for our fellow + traveller engrossed all his attention. + </p> + <p> + When we reached Cannes, as he wished to speak to me he signed to me to get + out, and as soon as I did so, he took me by the arm. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know, she is really charming. Just look at her eyes; and I + never saw anything like her hair.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't excite yourself,” I replied, “or else address + her, if you have any intentions that way. She does not look + unapproachable; I fancy, although she appear to be a little bit grumpy.” + </p> + <p> + “Why don't you speak to her?” he said. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know what to say, for I am always terribly stupid at first; + I can never make advances to a woman in the street. I follow them, go + round and round them, and quite close to them, but never know what to say + at first. I only once tried to enter into conversation with a woman in + that way. As I clearly saw that she was waiting for me to make overtures, + and as I felt bound to say something, I stammered out, 'I hope you are + quite well, madame?' She laughed in my face, and I made my escape.” + </p> + <p> + I promised Paul to do all I could to bring about a conversation, and when + we had taken our places again, I politely asked our neighbor: + </p> + <p> + “Have you any objection to the smell of tobacco, madame?” + </p> + <p> + She merely replied, “Non capisco.” + </p> + <p> + So she was an Italian! I felt an absurd inclination to laugh. As Paul did + not understand a word of that language, I was obliged to act as his + interpreter, so I said in Italian: + </p> + <p> + “I asked you, madame, whether you had any objection to tobacco + smoke?” + </p> + <p> + With an angry look she replied, “Che mi fa!” + </p> + <p> + She had neither turned her head nor looked at me, and I really did not + know whether to take this “What do I care” for an + authorization, a refusal, a real sign of indifference, or for a mere + “Let me alone.” + </p> + <p> + “Madame,” I replied, “if you mind the smell of tobacco + in the least—” + </p> + <p> + She again said, “Mica,” in a tone which seemed to mean, + “I wish to goodness you would leave me alone!” It was, + however, a kind of permission, so I said to Paul: + </p> + <p> + “You may smoke.” + </p> + <p> + He looked at me in that curious sort of way that people have when they try + to understand others who are talking in a strange language before them, + and asked me: + </p> + <p> + “What did you say to her?” + </p> + <p> + “I asked whether we might smoke, and she said we might do whatever + we liked.” + </p> + <p> + Whereupon I lighted my cigar. + </p> + <p> + “Did she say anything more?” + </p> + <p> + “If you had counted her words you would have noticed that she used + exactly six, two of which gave me to understand that she knew no French, + so four remained, and much can be said in four words.” + </p> + <p> + Paul seemed quite unhappy, disappointed, and at sea, so to speak. + </p> + <p> + But suddenly the Italian asked me, in that tone of discontent which seemed + habitual to her, “Do you know at what time we shall get to Genoa?” + </p> + <p> + “At eleven o'clock,” I replied. Then after a moment I went on: + </p> + <p> + “My friend and I are also going to Genoa, and if we can be of any + service to you, we shall be very happy, as you are quite alone.” But + she interrupted with such a “Mica!” that I did not venture on + another word. + </p> + <p> + “What did she say?” Paul asked. + </p> + <p> + “She said she thought you were charming.” + </p> + <p> + But he was in no humor for joking, and begged me dryly not to make fun of + him; so I translated her question and my polite offer, which had been so + rudely rejected. + </p> + <p> + Then he really became as restless as a caged squirrel. + </p> + <p> + “If we only knew,” he said, “what hotel she was going + to, we would go to the same. Try to find out so as to have another + opportunity to make her talk.” + </p> + <p> + It was not particularly easy, and I did not know what pretext to invent, + desirous as I was to make the acquaintance of this unapproachable person. + </p> + <p> + We passed Nice, Monaco, Mentone, and the train stopped at the frontier for + the examination of luggage. + </p> + <p> + Although I hate those ill-bred people who breakfast and dine in + railway-carriages, I went and bought a quantity of good things to make one + last attack on her by their means. I felt sure that this girl must, + ordinarily, be by no means inaccessible. Something had put her out and + made her irritable, but very little would suffice, a mere word or some + agreeable offer, to decide her and vanquish her. + </p> + <p> + We started again, and we three were still alone. I spread my eatables on + the seat. I cut up the fowl, put the slices of ham neatly on a piece of + paper, and then carefully laid out our dessert, strawberries, plums, + cherries and cakes, close to the girl. + </p> + <p> + When she saw that we were about to eat she took a piece of chocolate and + two little crisp cakes out of her pocket and began to munch them. + </p> + <p> + “Ask her to have some of ours,” Paul said in a whisper. + </p> + <p> + “That is exactly what I wish to do, but it is rather a difficult + matter.” + </p> + <p> + As she, however, glanced from time to time at our provisions, I felt sure + that she would still be hungry when she had finished what she had with + her; so, as soon as her frugal meal was over, I said to her: + </p> + <p> + “It would be very kind of you if you would take some of this fruit.” + </p> + <p> + Again she said “Mica!” but less crossly than before. + </p> + <p> + “Well, then,” I said, “may I offer you a little wine? I + see you have not drunk anything. It is Italian wine, and as we are now in + your own country, we should be very pleased to see such a pretty Italian + mouth accept the offer of its French neighbors.” + </p> + <p> + She shook her head slightly, evidently wishing to refuse, but very + desirous of accepting, and her mica this time was almost polite. I took + the flask, which was covered with straw in the Italian fashion, and + filling the glass, I offered it to her. + </p> + <p> + “Please drink it,” I said, “to bid us welcome to your + country.” + </p> + <p> + She took the glass with her usual look, and emptied it at a draught, like + a woman consumed with thirst, and then gave it back to me without even + saying “Thank you.” + </p> + <p> + I then offered her the cherries. “Please take some,” I said; + “we shall be so glad if you will.” + </p> + <p> + Out of her corner she looked at all the fruit spread out beside her, and + said so rapidly that I could scarcely follow her: “A me non + piacciono ne le ciriegie ne le susine; amo soltano le fragole.” + </p> + <p> + “What does she say?” Paul asked. + </p> + <p> + “That she does riot care for cherries or plums, but only for + strawberries.” + </p> + <p> + I put a newspaper full of wild strawberries on her lap, and she ate them + quickly, tossing them into her mouth from some distance in a coquettish + and charming manner. + </p> + <p> + When she had finished the little red heap, which soon disappeared under + the rapid action of her hands, I asked her: + </p> + <p> + “What may I offer you now?” + </p> + <p> + “I will take a little chicken,” she replied. + </p> + <p> + She certainly devoured half of it, tearing it to pieces with the rapid + movements of her jaws like some carnivorous animal. Then she made up her + mind to have some cherries, which she “did not like,” and then + some plums, then some little cakes. Then she said, “I have had + enough,” and sat back in her corner. + </p> + <p> + I was much amused, and tried to make her eat more, insisting, in fact, + till she suddenly flew into a rage, and flung such a furious mica at me, + that I would no longer run the risk of spoiling her digestion. + </p> + <p> + I turned to my friend. “My poor Paul,” I said, “I am + afraid we have had our trouble for nothing.” + </p> + <p> + The night came on, one of those hot summer nights which extend their warm + shade over the burning and exhausted earth. Here and there, in the + distance, by the sea, on capes and promontories, bright stars, which I + was, at times, almost inclined to confound with lighthouses, began to + shine on the dark horizon: + </p> + <p> + The scent of the orange trees became more penetrating, and we breathed + with delight, distending our lungs to inhale it more deeply. The balmy air + was soft, delicious, almost divine. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly I noticed something like a shower of stars under the dense shade + of the trees along the line, where it was quite dark. It might have been + taken for drops of light, leaping, flying, playing and running among the + leaves, or for small stars fallen from the skies in order to have an + excursion on the earth; but they were only fireflies dancing a strange + fiery ballet in the perfumed air. + </p> + <p> + One of them happened to come into our carriage, and shed its intermittent + light, which seemed to be extinguished one moment and to be burning the + next. I covered the carriage-lamp with its blue shade and watched the + strange fly careering about in its fiery flight. Suddenly it settled on + the dark hair of our neighbor, who was half dozing after dinner. Paul + seemed delighted, with his eyes fixed on the bright, sparkling spot, which + looked like a living jewel on the forehead of the sleeping woman. + </p> + <p> + The Italian woke up about eleven o'clock, with the bright insect still in + her hair. When I saw her move, I said: “We are just getting to + Genoa, madame,” and she murmured, without answering me, as if + possessed by some obstinate and embarrassing thought: + </p> + <p> + “What am I going to do, I wonder?” + </p> + <p> + And then she suddenly asked: + </p> + <p> + “Would you like me to come with you?” + </p> + <p> + I was so taken aback that I really did not understand her. + </p> + <p> + “With us? How do you mean?” + </p> + <p> + She repeated, looking more and more furious: + </p> + <p> + “Would you like me to be your guide now, as soon as we get out of + the train?” + </p> + <p> + “I am quite willing; but where do you want to go.” + </p> + <p> + She shrugged her shoulders with an air of supreme indifference. + </p> + <p> + “Wherever you like; what does it matter to me?” She repeated + her “Che mi fa” twice. + </p> + <p> + “But we are going to the hotel.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well, let us all go to the hotel,” she said, in a + contemptuous voice. + </p> + <p> + I turned to Paul, and said: + </p> + <p> + “She wishes to know whether we should like her to come with us.” + </p> + <p> + My friend's utter surprise restored my self-possession. He stammered: + </p> + <p> + “With us? Where to? What for? How?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know, but she made this strange proposal to me in a most + irritated voice. I told her that we were going to the hotel, and she said: + 'Very well, let us all go there!' I suppose she is without a penny. She + certainly has a very strange way of making acquaintances.” + </p> + <p> + Paul, who 'was very much excited, exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “I am quite agreeable. Tell her that we will go wherever she likes.” + Then, after a moment's hesitation, he said uneasily: + </p> + <p> + “We must know, however, with whom she wishes to go—with you or + with me?” + </p> + <p> + I turned to the Italian, who did not even seem to be listening to us, and + said: + </p> + <p> + “We shall be very happy to have you with us, but my friend wishes to + know whether you will take my arm or his?” + </p> + <p> + She opened her black eyes wide with vague surprise, and said, “Che + ni fa?” + </p> + <p> + I was obliged to explain myself. “In Italy, I believe, when a man + looks after a woman, fulfils all her wishes, and satisfies all her + caprices, he is called a patito. Which of us two will you take for your + patito?” + </p> + <p> + Without the slightest hesitation she replied: + </p> + <p> + “You!” + </p> + <p> + I turned to Paul. “You see, my friend, she chooses me; you have no + chance.” + </p> + <p> + “All the better for you,” he replied in a rage. Then, after + thinking for a few moments, he went on: + </p> + <p> + “Do you really care about taking this creature with you? She will + spoil our journey. What are we to do with this woman, who looks like I + don't know what? They will not take us in at any decent hotel.” + </p> + <p> + I, however, just began to find the Italian much nicer than I had thought + her at first, and I was now very desirous to take her with us. The idea + delighted me. + </p> + <p> + I replied, “My dear fellow, we have accepted, and it is too late to + recede. You were the first to advise me to say 'Yes.'” + </p> + <p> + “It is very stupid,” he growled, “but do as you please.” + </p> + <p> + The train whistled, slackened speed, and we ran into the station. + </p> + <p> + I got out of the carriage, and offered my new companion my hand. She + jumped out lightly, and I gave her my arm, which she took with an air of + seeming repugnance. As soon as we had claimed our luggage we set off into + the town, Paul walking in utter silence. + </p> + <p> + “To what hotel shall we go?” I asked him. “It may be + difficult to get into the City of Paris with a woman, especially with this + Italian.” + </p> + <p> + Paul interrupted me. “Yes, with an Italian who looks more like a + dancer than a duchess. However, that is no business of mine. Do just as + you please.” + </p> + <p> + I was in a state of perplexity. I had written to the City of Paris to + retain our rooms, and now I did not know what to do. + </p> + <p> + Two commissionaires followed us with our luggage. I continued: “You + might as well go on first, and say that we are coming; and give the + landlord to understand that I have a—a friend with me and that we + should like rooms quite by themselves for us three, so as not to be + brought in contact with other travellers. He will understand, and we will + decide according to his answer.” + </p> + <p> + But Paul growled, “Thank you, such commissions and such parts do not + suit me, by any means. I did not come here to select your apartments or to + minister to your pleasures.” + </p> + <p> + But I was urgent: “Look here, don't be angry. It is surely far + better to go to a good hotel than to a bad one, and it is not difficult to + ask the landlord for three separate bedrooms and a dining-room.” + </p> + <p> + I put a stress on three, and that decided him. + </p> + <p> + He went on first, and I saw him go into a large hotel while I remained on + the other side of the street, with my fair Italian, who did not say a + word, and followed the porters with the luggage. + </p> + <p> + Paul came back at last, looking as dissatisfied as my companion. + </p> + <p> + “That is settled,” he said, “and they will take us in; + but here are only two bedrooms. You must settle it as you can.” + </p> + <p> + I followed him, rather ashamed of going in with such a strange companion. + </p> + <p> + There were two bedrooms separated by a small sitting-room. I ordered a + cold supper, and then I turned to the Italian with a perplexed look. + </p> + <p> + “We have only been able to get two rooms, so you must choose which + you like.” + </p> + <p> + She replied with her eternal “Che mi fa!” I thereupon took up + her little black wooden trunk, such as servants use, and took it into the + room on the right, which I had chosen for her. A bit of paper was fastened + to the box, on which was written, Mademoiselle Francesca Rondoli, Genoa. + </p> + <p> + “Your name is Francesca?” I asked, and she nodded her head, + without replying. + </p> + <p> + “We shall have supper directly,” I continued. “Meanwhile, + I dare say you would like to arrange your toilette a little?” + </p> + <p> + She answered with a 'mica', a word which she employed just as frequently + as 'Che me fa', but I went on: “It is always pleasant after a + journey.” + </p> + <p> + Then I suddenly remembered that she had not, perhaps, the necessary + requisites, for she appeared to me in a very singular position, as if she + had just escaped from some disagreeable adventure, and I brought her my + dressing-case. + </p> + <p> + I put out all the little instruments for cleanliness and comfort which it + contained: a nail-brush, a new toothbrush—I always carry a selection + of them about with me—my nail-scissors, a nail-file, and sponges. I + uncorked a bottle of eau de cologne, one of lavender-water, and a little + bottle of new-mown hay, so that she might have a choice. Then I opened my + powder-box, and put out the powder-puff, placed my fine towels over the + water-jug, and a piece of new soap near the basin. + </p> + <p> + She watched my movements with a look of annoyance in her wide-open eyes, + without appearing either astonished or pleased at my forethought. + </p> + <p> + “Here is all that you require,” I then said; “I will + tell you when supper is ready.” + </p> + <p> + When I returned to the sitting-room I found that Paul had shut himself in + the other room, so I sat down to wait. + </p> + <p> + A waiter went to and fro, bringing plates and glasses. He laid the table + slowly, then put a cold chicken on it, and told me that all was ready. + </p> + <p> + I knocked gently at Mademoiselle Rondoli's door. “Come in,” + she said, and when I did so I was struck by a strong, heavy smell of + perfumes, as if I were in a hairdresser's shop. + </p> + <p> + The Italian was sitting on her trunk in an attitude either of thoughtful + discontent or absent-mindedness. The towel was still folded over the + waterjug that was full of water, and the soap, untouched and dry, was + lying beside the empty basin; but one would have thought that the young + woman had used half the contents of the bottles of perfume. The eau de + cologne, however, had been spared, as only about a third of it had gone; + but to make up for that she had used a surprising amount of lavender-water + and new-mown hay. A cloud of violet powder, a vague white mist, seemed + still to be floating in the air, from the effects of her over-powdering + her face and neck. It seemed to cover her eyelashes, eyebrows, and the + hair on her temples like snow, while her cheeks were plastered with it, + and layers of it covered her nostrils, the corners of her eyes, and her + chin. + </p> + <p> + When she got up she exhaled such a strong odor of perfume that it almost + made me feel faint. + </p> + <p> + When we sat down to supper, I found that Paul was in a most execrable + temper, and I could get nothing out of him but blame, irritable words, and + disagreeable remarks. + </p> + <p> + Mademoiselle Francesca ate like an ogre, and as soon as she had finished + her meal she threw herself upon the sofa in the sitting-room. Sitting down + beside her, I said gallantly, kissing her hand: + </p> + <p> + “Shall I have the bed prepared, or will you sleep on the couch?” + </p> + <p> + “It is all the same to me. 'Che mi fa'!” + </p> + <p> + Her indifference vexed me. + </p> + <p> + “Should you like to retire at once?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; I am very sleepy.” + </p> + <p> + She got up, yawned, gave her hand to Paul, who took it with a furious + look, and I lighted her into the bedroom. A disquieting feeling haunted + me. “Here is all you want,” I said again. + </p> + <p> + The next morning she got up early, like a woman who is accustomed to work. + She woke me by doing so, and I watched her through my half-closed eyelids. + </p> + <p> + She came and went without hurrying herself, as if she were astonished at + having nothing to do. At length she went to the dressing-table, and in a + moment emptied all my bottles of perfume. She certainly also used some + water, but very little. + </p> + <p> + When she was quite dressed, she sat down on her trunk again, and clasping + one knee between her hands, she seemed to be thinking. + </p> + <p> + At that moment I pretended to first notice her, and said: + </p> + <p> + “Good-morning, Francesca.” + </p> + <p> + Without seeming in at all a better temper than the previous night, she + murmured, “Good-morning!” + </p> + <p> + When I asked her whether she had slept well, she nodded her head, and + jumping out of bed, I went and kissed her. + </p> + <p> + She turned her face toward me like a child who is being kissed against its + will; but I took her tenderly in my arms, and gently pressed my lips on + her eyelids, which she closed with evident distaste under my kisses on her + fresh cheek and full lips, which she turned away. + </p> + <p> + “You don't seem to like being kissed,” I said to her. + </p> + <p> + “Mica!” was her only answer. + </p> + <p> + I sat down on the trunk by her side, and passing my arm through hers, I + said: “Mica! mica! mica! in reply to everything. I shall call you + Mademoiselle Mica, I think.” + </p> + <p> + For the first time I fancied that I saw the shadow of a smile on her lips, + but it passed by so quickly that I may have been mistaken. + </p> + <p> + “But if you never say anything but Mica, I shall not know what to do + to please you. Let me see; what shall we do to-day?” + </p> + <p> + She hesitated a moment, as if some fancy had flitted through her head, and + then she said carelessly: “It is all the same to me; whatever you + like.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well, Mademoiselle Mica, we will have a carriage and go for a + drive.” + </p> + <p> + “As you please,” she said. + </p> + <p> + Paul was waiting for us in the dining-room, looking as bored as third + parties usually do in love affairs. I assumed a delighted air, and shook + hands with him with triumphant energy. + </p> + <p> + “What are you thinking of doing?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “First of all, we will go and see a little of the town, and then we + might get a carriage and take a drive in the neighborhood.” + </p> + <p> + We breakfasted almost in silence, and then set out. I dragged Francesca + from palace to palace, and she either looked at nothing or merely glanced + carelessly at the various masterpieces. Paul followed us, growling all + sorts of disagreeable things. Then we all three took a drive in silence + into the country and returned to dinner. + </p> + <p> + The next day it was the same thing and the next day again; and on the + third Paul said to me: “Look here, I am going to leave you; I am not + going to stop here for three weeks watching you make love to this + creature.” + </p> + <p> + I was perplexed and annoyed, for to my great surprise I had become + singularly attached to Francesca. A man is but weak and foolish, carried + away by the merest trifle, and a coward every time that his senses are + excited or mastered. I clung to this unknown girl, silent and dissatisfied + as she always was. I liked her somewhat ill-tempered face, the + dissatisfied droop of her mouth, the weariness of her look; I liked her + fatigued movements, the contemptuous way in which she let me kiss her, the + very indifference of her caresses. A secret bond, that mysterious bond of + physical love, which does not satisfy, bound me to her. I told Paul so, + quite frankly. He treated me as if I were a fool, and then said: + </p> + <p> + “Very well, take her with you.” + </p> + <p> + But she obstinately refused to leave Genoa, without giving any reason. I + besought, I reasoned, I promised, but all was of no avail, and so I stayed + on. + </p> + <p> + Paul declared that he would go by himself, and went so far as to pack up + his portmanteau; but he remained all the same. + </p> + <p> + Thus a fortnight passed. Francesca was always silent and irritable, lived + beside me rather than with me, responded to all my requirements and all my + propositions with her perpetual Che mi fa, or with her no less perpetual + Mica. + </p> + <p> + My friend became more and more furious, but my only answer was, “You + can go if you are tired of staying. I am not detaining you.” + </p> + <p> + Then he called me names, overwhelmed me with reproaches, and exclaimed: + “Where do you think I can go now? We had three weeks at our + disposal, and here is a fortnight gone! I cannot continue my journey now; + and, in any case, I am not going to Venice, Florence and Rome all by + myself. But you will pay for it, and more dearly than you think, most + likely. You are not going to bring a man all the way from Paris in order + to shut him up at a hotel in Genoa with an Italian adventuress.” + </p> + <p> + When I told him, very calmly, to return to Paris, he exclaimed that he + intended to do so the very next day; but the next day he was still there, + still in a rage and swearing. + </p> + <p> + By this time we began to be known in the streets through which we wandered + from morning till night. Sometimes French people would turn round + astonished at meeting their fellow-countrymen in the company of this girl + with her striking costume, who looked singularly out of place, not to say + compromising, beside us. + </p> + <p> + She used to walk along, leaning on my arm, without looking at anything. + Why did she remain with me, with us, who seemed to do so little to amuse + her? Who was she? Where did she come from? What was she doing? Had she any + plan or idea? Where did she live? As an adventuress, or by chance + meetings? I tried in vain to find out and to explain it. The better I knew + her the more enigmatical she became. She seemed to be a girl of poor + family who had been taken away, and then cast aside and lost. What did she + think would become of her, or whom was she waiting for? She certainly did + not appear to be trying to make a conquest of me, or to make any real + profit out of me. + </p> + <p> + I tried to question her, to speak to her of her childhood and family; but + she never gave me an answer. I stayed with her, my heart unfettered and my + senses enchained, never wearied of holding her in my arms, that proud and + quarrelsome woman, captivated by my senses, or rather carried away, + overcome by a youthful, healthy, powerful charm, which emanated from her + fragrant person and from the well-molded lines of her body. + </p> + <p> + Another week passed, and the term of my journey was drawing on, for I had + to be back in Paris by the eleventh of July. By this time Paul had come to + take his part in the adventure, though still grumbling at me, while I + invented pleasures, distractions and excursions to amuse Francesca and my + friend; and in order to do this I gave myself a great amount of trouble. + </p> + <p> + One day I proposed an excursion to Sta Margarita, that charming little + town in the midst of gardens, hidden at the foot of a slope which + stretches far into the sea up to the village of Portofino. We three walked + along the excellent road which goes along the foot of the mountain. + Suddenly Francesca said to me: “I shall not be able to go with you + to-morrow; I must go and see some of my relatives.” + </p> + <p> + That was all; I did not ask her any questions, as I was quite sure she + would not answer me. + </p> + <p> + The next morning she got up very early. When she spoke to me it was in a + constrained and hesitating voice: + </p> + <p> + “If I do not come back again, shall you come and fetch me?” + </p> + <p> + “Most certainly I shall,” was my reply. “Where shall I + go to find you?” + </p> + <p> + Then she explained: “You must go into the Street Victor-Emmanuel, + down the Falcone road and the side street San-Rafael and into the + furniture shop in the building at the right at the end of a court, and + there you must ask for Madame Rondoli. That is the place.” + </p> + <p> + And so she went away, leaving me rather astonished. + </p> + <p> + When Paul saw that I was alone, he stammered out: “Where; is + Francesca?” And when I told him what had happened, he exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “My dear fellow, let us make use of our opportunity, and bolt; as it + is, our time is up. Two days, more or less, make no difference. Let us go + at once; go and pack up your things. Off we go!” + </p> + <p> + But I refused. I could not, as I told him, leave the girl in that manner + after such companionship for nearly three weeks. At any rate, I ought to + say good-by to her, and make her accept a present; I certainly had no + intention of behaving badly to her. + </p> + <p> + But he would not listen; he pressed and worried me, but I would not give + way. + </p> + <p> + I remained indoors for several hours, expecting Francesca's return, but + she did not come, and at last, at dinner, Paul said with a triumphant air: + </p> + <p> + “She has flown, my dear fellow; it is certainly very strange.” + </p> + <p> + I must acknowledge that I was surprised and rather vexed. He laughed in my + face, and made fun of me. + </p> + <p> + “It is not exactly a bad way of getting rid of you, though rather + primitive. 'Just wait for me, I shall be back in a moment,' they often + say. How long are you going to wait? I should not wonder if you were + foolish enough to go and look for her at the address she gave you. 'Does + Madame Rondoli live here, please?' 'No, monsieur.' I'll bet that you are + longing to go there.” + </p> + <p> + “Not in the least,” I protested, “and I assure you that + if she does not come back to-morrow morning I shall leave by the express + at eight o'clock. I shall have waited twenty-four hours, and that is + enough; my conscience will be quite clear.” + </p> + <p> + I spent an uneasy and unpleasant evening, for I really had at heart a very + tender feeling for her. I went to bed at twelve o'clock, and hardly slept + at all. I got up at six, called Paul, packed up my things, and two hours + later we set out for France together. + </p> + <p> + III + </p> + <p> + The next year, at just about the same period, I was seized as one is with + a periodical fever, with a new desire to go to Italy, and I immediately + made up my mind to carry it into effect. There is no doubt that every + really well-educated man ought to see Florence, Venice and Rome. This + travel has, also, the additional advantage of providing many subjects of + conversation in society, and of giving one an opportunity for bringing + forward artistic generalities which appear profound. + </p> + <p> + This time I went alone, and I arrived at Genoa at the same time as the + year before, but without any adventure on the road. I went to the same + hotel, and actually happened to have the same room. + </p> + <p> + I was hardly in bed when the recollection of Francesca which, since the + evening before, had been floating vaguely through my mind, haunted me with + strange persistency. I thought of her nearly the whole night, and by + degrees the wish to see her again seized me, a confused desire at first, + which gradually grew stronger and more intense. At last I made up my mind + to spend the next day in Genoa to try to find her, and if I should not + succeed, to take the evening train. + </p> + <p> + Early in the morning I set out on my search. I remembered the directions + she had given me when she left me, perfectly—Victor-Emmanuel Street, + house of the furniture-dealer, at the bottom of the yard on the right. + </p> + <p> + I found it without the least difficulty, and I knocked at the door of a + somewhat dilapidated-looking dwelling. It was opened by a stout woman, who + must have been very handsome, but who actually was only very dirty. + Although she had too much embonpoint, she still bore the lines of majestic + beauty; her untidy hair fell over her forehead and shoulders, and one + fancied one could see her floating about in an enormous dressing-gown + covered with spots of dirt and grease. Round her neck she wore a great + gilt necklace, and on her wrists were splendid bracelets of Genoa filigree + work. + </p> + <p> + In rather a hostile manner she asked me what I wanted, and I replied by + requesting her to tell me whether Francesca Rondoli lived there. + </p> + <p> + “What do you want with her?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “I had the pleasure of meeting her last year, and I should like to + see her again.” + </p> + <p> + The old woman looked at me suspiciously. + </p> + <p> + “Where did you meet her?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “Why, here in Genoa itself.” + </p> + <p> + “What is your name?” + </p> + <p> + I hesitated a moment, and then I told her. I had hardly done so when the + Italian put out her arms as if to embrace me. “Oh! you are the + Frenchman how glad I am to see you! But what grief you caused the poor + child! She waited for you a month; yes, a whole month. At first she + thought you would come to fetch her. She wanted to see whether you loved + her. If you only knew how she cried when she saw that you were not coming! + She cried till she seemed to have no tears left. Then she went to the + hotel, but you had gone. She thought that most likely you were travelling + in Italy, and that you would return by Genoa to fetch her, as she would + not go with you. And she waited more than a month, monsieur; and she was + so unhappy; so unhappy. I am her mother.” + </p> + <p> + I really felt a little disconcerted, but I regained my self-possession, + and asked: + </p> + <p> + “Where is she now?” + </p> + <p> + “She has gone to Paris with a painter, a delightful man, who loves + her very much, and who gives her everything that she wants. Just look at + what she sent me; they are very pretty, are they not?” + </p> + <p> + And she showed me, with quite southern animation, her heavy bracelets and + necklace. “I have also,” she continued, “earrings with + stones in them, a silk dress, and some rings; but I only wear them on + grand occasions. Oh! she is very happy, monsieur, very happy. She will be + so pleased when I tell her you have been here. But pray come in and sit + down. You will take something or other, surely?” + </p> + <p> + But I refused, as I now wished to get away by the first train; but she + took me by the arm and pulled me in, saying: + </p> + <p> + “Please, come in; I must tell her that you have been in here.” + </p> + <p> + I found myself in a small, rather dark room, furnished with only a table + and a few chairs. + </p> + <p> + She continued: “Oh, she is very happy now, very happy. When you met + her in the train she was very miserable; she had had an unfortunate love + affair in Marseilles, and she was coming home, poor child. But she liked + you at once, though she was still rather sad, you understand. Now she has + all she wants, and she writes and tells me everything that she does. His + name is Bellemin, and they say he is a great painter in your country. He + fell in love with her at first sight. But you will take a glass of + sirup?-it is very good. Are you quite alone, this year?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” I said, “quite alone.” + </p> + <p> + I felt an increasing inclination to laugh, as my first disappointment was + dispelled by what Mother Rondoli said. I was obliged; however, to drink a + glass of her sirup. + </p> + <p> + “So you are quite alone?” she continued. “How sorry I am + that Francesca is not here now; she would have been company for you all + the time you stayed. It is not very amusing to go about all by oneself, + and she will be very sorry also.” + </p> + <p> + Then, as I was getting up to go, she exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “But would you not like Carlotta to go with you? She knows all the + walks very well. She is my second daughter, monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + No doubt she took my look of surprise for consent, for she opened the + inner door and called out up the dark stairs which I could not see: + </p> + <p> + “Carlotta! Carlotta! make haste down, my dear child.” + </p> + <p> + I tried to protest, but she would not listen. + </p> + <p> + “No; she will be very glad to go with you; she is very nice, and + much more cheerful than her sister, and she is a good girl, a very good + girl, whom I love very much.” + </p> + <p> + In a few moments a tall, slender, dark girl appeared, her hair hanging + down, and her youthful figure showing unmistakably beneath an old dress of + her mother's. + </p> + <p> + The latter at once told her how matters stood. + </p> + <p> + “This is Francesca's Frenchman, you know, the one whom she knew last + year. He is quite alone, and has come to look for her, poor fellow; so I + told him that you would go with him to keep him company.” + </p> + <p> + The girl looked at me with her handsome dark eyes, and said, smiling: + </p> + <p> + “I have no objection, if he wishes it” + </p> + <p> + I could not possibly refuse, and merely said: + </p> + <p> + “Of course, I shall be very glad of your company.” + </p> + <p> + Her mother pushed her out. “Go and get dressed directly; put on your + blue dress and your hat with the flowers, and make haste.” + </p> + <p> + As soon as she had left the room the old woman explained herself: “I + have two others, but they are much younger. It costs a lot of money to + bring up four children. Luckily the eldest is off my hands at present.” + </p> + <p> + Then she told all about herself, about her husband, who had been an + employee on the railway, but who was dead, and she expatiated on the good + qualities of Carlotta, her second girl, who soon returned, dressed, as her + sister had been, in a striking, peculiar manner. + </p> + <p> + Her mother examined her from head to foot, and, after finding everything + right, she said: + </p> + <p> + “Now, my children, you can go.” Then turning to the girl, she + said: “Be sure you are back by ten o'clock to-night; you know the + door is locked then.” The answer was: + </p> + <p> + “All right, mamma; don't alarm yourself.” + </p> + <p> + She took my arm and we went wandering about the streets, just as I had + wandered the previous year with her sister. + </p> + <p> + We returned to the hotel for lunch, and then I took my new friend to Santa + Margarita, just as I had taken her sister the year previously. + </p> + <p> + During the whole fortnight which I had at my disposal, I took Carlotta to + all the places of interest in and about Genoa. She gave me no cause to + regret her sister. + </p> + <p> + She cried when I left her, and the morning of my departure I gave her four + bracelets for her mother, besides a substantial token of my affection for + herself. + </p> + <p> + One of these days I intend to return to Italy, and I cannot help + remembering with a certain amount of uneasiness, mingled with hope, that + Madame Rondoli has two more daughters. + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0093"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + ORIGINAL SHORT STORIES, Vol. 7. + </h2> +<div class='pre'> + GUY DE MAUPASSANT + ORIGINAL SHORT STORIES + Translated by + ALBERT M. C. McMASTER, B.A. + A. E. HENDERSON, B.A. + MME. QUESADA and Others +</div> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0094"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + VOLUME VII. + </h2> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0095"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + THE FALSE GEMS + </h2> + <p> + Monsieur Lantin had met the young girl at a reception at the house of the + second head of his department, and had fallen head over heels in love with + her. + </p> + <p> + She was the daughter of a provincial tax collector, who had been dead + several years. She and her mother came to live in Paris, where the latter, + who made the acquaintance of some of the families in her neighborhood, + hoped to find a husband for her daughter. + </p> + <p> + They had very moderate means, and were honorable, gentle, and quiet. + </p> + <p> + The young girl was a perfect type of the virtuous woman in whose hands + every sensible young man dreams of one day intrusting his happiness. Her + simple beauty had the charm of angelic modesty, and the imperceptible + smile which constantly hovered about the lips seemed to be the reflection + of a pure and lovely soul. Her praises resounded on every side. People + never tired of repeating: “Happy the man who wins her love! He could + not find a better wife.” + </p> + <p> + Monsieur Lantin, then chief clerk in the Department of the Interior, + enjoyed a snug little salary of three thousand five hundred francs, and he + proposed to this model young girl, and was accepted. + </p> + <p> + He was unspeakably happy with her. She governed his household with such + clever economy that they seemed to live in luxury. She lavished the most + delicate attentions on her husband, coaxed and fondled him; and so great + was her charm that six years after their marriage, Monsieur Lantin + discovered that he loved his wife even more than during the first days of + their honeymoon. + </p> + <p> + He found fault with only two of her tastes: Her love for the theatre, and + her taste for imitation jewelry. Her friends (the wives of some petty + officials) frequently procured for her a box at the theatre, often for the + first representations of the new plays; and her husband was obliged to + accompany her, whether he wished it or not, to these entertainments which + bored him excessively after his day's work at the office. + </p> + <p> + After a time, Monsieur Lantin begged his wife to request some lady of her + acquaintance to accompany her, and to bring her home after the theatre. + She opposed this arrangement, at first; but, after much persuasion, + finally consented, to the infinite delight of her husband. + </p> + <p> + Now, with her love for the theatre, came also the desire for ornaments. + Her costumes remained as before, simple, in good taste, and always modest; + but she soon began to adorn her ears with huge rhinestones, which + glittered and sparkled like real diamonds. Around her neck she wore + strings of false pearls, on her arms bracelets of imitation gold, and + combs set with glass jewels. + </p> + <p> + Her husband frequently remonstrated with her, saying: + </p> + <p> + “My dear, as you cannot afford to buy real jewelry, you ought to + appear adorned with your beauty and modesty alone, which are the rarest + ornaments of your sex.” + </p> + <p> + But she would smile sweetly, and say: + </p> + <p> + “What can I do? I am so fond of jewelry. It is my only weakness. We + cannot change our nature.” + </p> + <p> + Then she would wind the pearl necklace round her fingers, make the facets + of the crystal gems sparkle, and say: + </p> + <p> + “Look! are they not lovely? One would swear they were real.” + </p> + <p> + Monsieur Lantin would then answer, smilingly: + </p> + <p> + “You have bohemian tastes, my dear.” + </p> + <p> + Sometimes, of an evening, when they were enjoying a tete-a-tete by the + fireside, she would place on the tea table the morocco leather box + containing the “trash,” as Monsieur Lantin called it. She + would examine the false gems with a passionate attention, as though they + imparted some deep and secret joy; and she often persisted in passing a + necklace around her husband's neck, and, laughing heartily, would exclaim: + “How droll you look!” Then she would throw herself into his + arms, and kiss him affectionately. + </p> + <p> + One evening, in winter, she had been to the opera, and returned home + chilled through and through. The next morning she coughed, and eight days + later she died of inflammation of the lungs. + </p> + <p> + Monsieur Lantin's despair was so great that his hair became white in one + month. He wept unceasingly; his heart was broken as he remembered her + smile, her voice, every charm of his dead wife. + </p> + <p> + Time did not assuage his grief. Often, during office hours, while his + colleagues were discussing the topics of the day, his eyes would suddenly + fill with tears, and he would give vent to his grief in heartrending sobs. + Everything in his wife's room remained as it was during her lifetime; all + her furniture, even her clothing, being left as it was on the day of her + death. Here he was wont to seclude himself daily and think of her who had + been his treasure-the joy of his existence. + </p> + <p> + But life soon became a struggle. His income, which, in the hands of his + wife, covered all household expenses, was now no longer sufficient for his + own immediate wants; and he wondered how she could have managed to buy + such excellent wine and the rare delicacies which he could no longer + procure with his modest resources. + </p> + <p> + He incurred some debts, and was soon reduced to absolute poverty. One + morning, finding himself without a cent in his pocket, he resolved to sell + something, and immediately the thought occurred to him of disposing of his + wife's paste jewels, for he cherished in his heart a sort of rancor + against these “deceptions,” which had always irritated him in + the past. The very sight of them spoiled, somewhat, the memory of his lost + darling. + </p> + <p> + To the last days of her life she had continued to make purchases, bringing + home new gems almost every evening, and he turned them over some time + before finally deciding to sell the heavy necklace, which she seemed to + prefer, and which, he thought, ought to be worth about six or seven + francs; for it was of very fine workmanship, though only imitation. + </p> + <p> + He put it in his pocket, and started out in search of what seemed a + reliable jeweler's shop. At length he found one, and went in, feeling a + little ashamed to expose his misery, and also to offer such a worthless + article for sale. + </p> + <p> + “Sir,” said he to the merchant, “I would like to know + what this is worth.” + </p> + <p> + The man took the necklace, examined it, called his clerk, and made some + remarks in an undertone; he then put the ornament back on the counter, and + looked at it from a distance to judge of the effect. + </p> + <p> + Monsieur Lantin, annoyed at all these ceremonies, was on the point of + saying: “Oh! I know well enough it is not worth anything,” + when the jeweler said: “Sir, that necklace is worth from twelve to + fifteen thousand francs; but I could not buy it, unless you can tell me + exactly where it came from.” + </p> + <p> + The widower opened his eyes wide and remained gaping, not comprehending + the merchant's meaning. Finally he stammered: “You say—are you + sure?” The other replied, drily: “You can try elsewhere and + see if any one will offer you more. I consider it worth fifteen thousand + at the most. Come back; here, if you cannot do better.” + </p> + <p> + Monsieur Lantin, beside himself with astonishment, took up the necklace + and left the store. He wished time for reflection. + </p> + <p> + Once outside, he felt inclined to laugh, and said to himself: “The + fool! Oh, the fool! Had I only taken him at his word! That jeweler cannot + distinguish real diamonds from the imitation article.” + </p> + <p> + A few minutes after, he entered another store, in the Rue de la Paix. As + soon as the proprietor glanced at the necklace, he cried out: + </p> + <p> + “Ah, parbleu! I know it well; it was bought here.” + </p> + <p> + Monsieur Lantin, greatly disturbed, asked: + </p> + <p> + “How much is it worth?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I sold it for twenty thousand francs. I am willing to take it + back for eighteen thousand, when you inform me, according to our legal + formality, how it came to be in your possession.” + </p> + <p> + This time, Monsieur Lantin was dumfounded. He replied: + </p> + <p> + “But—but—examine it well. Until this moment I was under + the impression that it was imitation.” + </p> + <p> + The jeweler asked: + </p> + <p> + “What is your name, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “Lantin—I am in the employ of the Minister of the Interior. I + live at number sixteen Rue des Martyrs.” + </p> + <p> + The merchant looked through his books, found the entry, and said: “That + necklace was sent to Madame Lantin's address, sixteen Rue des Martyrs, + July 20, 1876.” + </p> + <p> + The two men looked into each other's eyes—the widower speechless + with astonishment; the jeweler scenting a thief. The latter broke the + silence. + </p> + <p> + “Will you leave this necklace here for twenty-four hours?” + said he; “I will give you a receipt.” + </p> + <p> + Monsieur Lantin answered hastily: “Yes, certainly.” Then, + putting the ticket in his pocket, he left the store. + </p> + <p> + He wandered aimlessly through the streets, his mind in a state of dreadful + confusion. He tried to reason, to understand. His wife could not afford to + purchase such a costly ornament. Certainly not. + </p> + <p> + But, then, it must have been a present!—a present!—a present, + from whom? Why was it given her? + </p> + <p> + He stopped, and remained standing in the middle of the street. A horrible + doubt entered his mind—She? Then, all the other jewels must have + been presents, too! The earth seemed to tremble beneath him—the tree + before him to be falling; he threw up his arms, and fell to the ground, + unconscious. He recovered his senses in a pharmacy, into which the + passers-by had borne him. He asked to be taken home, and, when he reached + the house, he shut himself up in his room, and wept until nightfall. + Finally, overcome with fatigue, he went to bed and fell into a heavy + sleep. + </p> + <p> + The sun awoke him next morning, and he began to dress slowly to go to the + office. It was hard to work after such shocks. He sent a letter to his + employer, requesting to be excused. Then he remembered that he had to + return to the jeweler's. He did not like the idea; but he could not leave + the necklace with that man. He dressed and went out. + </p> + <p> + It was a lovely day; a clear, blue sky smiled on the busy city below. Men + of leisure were strolling about with their hands in their pockets. + </p> + <p> + Monsieur Lantin, observing them, said to himself: “The rich, indeed, + are happy. With money it is possible to forget even the deepest sorrow. + One can go where one pleases, and in travel find that distraction which is + the surest cure for grief. Oh if I were only rich!” + </p> + <p> + He perceived that he was hungry, but his pocket was empty. He again + remembered the necklace. Eighteen thousand francs! Eighteen thousand + francs! What a sum! + </p> + <p> + He soon arrived in the Rue de la Paix, opposite the jeweler's. Eighteen + thousand francs! Twenty times he resolved to go in, but shame kept him + back. He was hungry, however—very hungry—and not a cent in his + pocket. He decided quickly, ran across the street, in order not to have + time for reflection, and rushed into the store. + </p> + <p> + The proprietor immediately came forward, and politely offered him a chair; + the clerks glanced at him knowingly. + </p> + <p> + “I have made inquiries, Monsieur Lantin,” said the jeweler, + “and if you are still resolved to dispose of the gems, I am ready to + pay you the price I offered.” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly, sir,” stammered Monsieur Lantin. + </p> + <p> + Whereupon the proprietor took from a drawer eighteen large bills, counted, + and handed them to Monsieur Lantin, who signed a receipt; and, with + trembling hand, put the money into his pocket. + </p> + <p> + As he was about to leave the store, he turned toward the merchant, who + still wore the same knowing smile, and lowering his eyes, said: + </p> + <p> + “I have—I have other gems, which came from the same source. + Will you buy them, also?” + </p> + <p> + The merchant bowed: “Certainly, sir.” + </p> + <p> + Monsieur Lantin said gravely: “I will bring them to you.” An + hour later, he returned with the gems. + </p> + <p> + The large diamond earrings were worth twenty thousand francs; the + bracelets, thirty-five thousand; the rings, sixteen thousand; a set of + emeralds and sapphires, fourteen thousand; a gold chain with solitaire + pendant, forty thousand—making the sum of one hundred and + forty-three thousand francs. + </p> + <p> + The jeweler remarked, jokingly: + </p> + <p> + “There was a person who invested all her savings in precious stones.” + </p> + <p> + Monsieur Lantin replied, seriously: + </p> + <p> + “It is only another way of investing one's money.” + </p> + <p> + That day he lunched at Voisin's, and drank wine worth twenty francs a + bottle. Then he hired a carriage and made a tour of the Bois. He gazed at + the various turnouts with a kind of disdain, and could hardly refrain from + crying out to the occupants: + </p> + <p> + “I, too, am rich!—I am worth two hundred thousand francs.” + </p> + <p> + Suddenly he thought of his employer. He drove up to the bureau, and + entered gaily, saying: + </p> + <p> + “Sir, I have come to resign my position. I have just inherited three + hundred thousand francs.” + </p> + <p> + He shook hands with his former colleagues, and confided to them some of + his projects for the future; he then went off to dine at the Cafe Anglais. + </p> + <p> + He seated himself beside a gentleman of aristocratic bearing; and, during + the meal, informed the latter confidentially that he had just inherited a + fortune of four hundred thousand francs. + </p> + <p> + For the first time in his life, he was not bored at the theatre, and spent + the remainder of the night in a gay frolic. + </p> + <p> + Six months afterward, he married again. His second wife was a very + virtuous woman; but had a violent temper. She caused him much sorrow. + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0096"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + FASCINATION + </h2> + <p> + I can tell you neither the name of the country, nor the name of the man. + It was a long, long way from here on a fertile and burning shore. We had + been walking since the morning along the coast, with the blue sea bathed + in sunlight on one side of us, and the shore covered with crops on the + other. Flowers were growing quite close to the waves, those light, gentle, + lulling waves. It was very warm, a soft warmth permeated with the odor of + the rich, damp, fertile soil. One fancied one was inhaling germs. + </p> + <p> + I had been told, that evening, that I should meet with hospitality at the + house of a Frenchman who lived in an orange grove at the end of a + promontory. Who was he? I did not know. He had come there one morning ten + years before, and had bought land which he planted with vines and sowed + with grain. He had worked, this man, with passionate energy, with fury. + Then as he went on from month to month, year to year, enlarging his + boundaries, cultivating incessantly the strong virgin soil, he accumulated + a fortune by his indefatigable labor. + </p> + <p> + But he kept on working, they said. Rising at daybreak, he would remain in + the fields till evening, superintending everything without ceasing, + tormented by one fixed idea, the insatiable desire for money, which + nothing can quiet, nothing satisfy. He now appeared to be very rich. The + sun was setting as I reached his house. It was situated as described, at + the end of a promontory in the midst of a grove of orange trees. It was a + large square house, quite plain, and overlooked the sea. As I approached, + a man wearing a long beard appeared in the doorway. Having greeted him, I + asked if he would give me shelter for the night. He held out his hand and + said, smiling: + </p> + <p> + “Come in, monsieur, consider yourself at home.” + </p> + <p> + He led me into a room, and put a man servant at my disposal with the + perfect ease and familiar graciousness of a man-of-the-world. Then he left + me saying: + </p> + <p> + “We will dine as soon as you are ready to come downstairs.” + </p> + <p> + We took dinner, sitting opposite each other, on a terrace facing the sea. + I began to talk about this rich, distant, unknown land. He smiled, as he + replied carelessly: + </p> + <p> + “Yes, this country is beautiful. But no country satisfies one when + they are far from the one they love.” + </p> + <p> + “You regret France?” + </p> + <p> + “I regret Paris.” + </p> + <p> + “Why do you not go back?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I will return there.” + </p> + <p> + And gradually we began to talk of French society, of the boulevards, and + things Parisian. He asked me questions that showed he knew all about these + things, mentioned names, all the familiar names in vaudeville known on the + sidewalks. + </p> + <p> + “Whom does one see at Tortoni's now? + </p> + <p> + “Always the same crowd, except those who died.” I looked at + him attentively, haunted by a vague recollection. I certainly had seen + that head somewhere. But where? And when? He seemed tired, although he was + vigorous; and sad, although he was determined. His long, fair beard fell + on his chest. He was somewhat bald and had heavy eyebrows and a thick + mustache. + </p> + <p> + The sun was sinking into the sea, turning the vapor from the earth into a + fiery mist. The orange blossoms exhaled their powerful, delicious + fragrance. He seemed to see nothing besides me, and gazing steadfastly he + appeared to discover in the depths of my mind the far-away, beloved and + well-known image of the wide, shady pavement leading from the Madeleine to + the Rue Drouot. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know Boutrelle?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, indeed.” + </p> + <p> + “Has he changed much?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, his hair is quite white.” + </p> + <p> + “And La Ridamie?” + </p> + <p> + “The same as ever.” + </p> + <p> + “And the women? Tell me about the women. Let's see. Do you know + Suzanne Verner?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, very much. But that is over.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! And Sophie Astier?” + </p> + <p> + “Dead.” + </p> + <p> + “Poor girl. Did you—did you know—” + </p> + <p> + But he ceased abruptly: And then, in a changed voice, his face suddenly + turning pale, he continued: + </p> + <p> + “No, it is best that I should not speak of that any more, it breaks + my heart.” + </p> + <p> + Then, as if to change the current of his thoughts he rose. + </p> + <p> + “Would you like to go in?” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I think so.” + </p> + <p> + And he preceded me into the house. The downstairs rooms were enormous, + bare and mournful, and had a deserted look. Plates and glasses were + scattered on the tables, left there by the dark-skinned servants who + wandered incessantly about this spacious dwelling. + </p> + <p> + Two rifles were banging from two nails, on the wall; and in the corners of + the rooms were spades, fishing poles, dried palm leaves, every imaginable + thing set down at random when people came home in the evening and ready to + hand when they went out at any time, or went to work. + </p> + <p> + My host smiled as he said: + </p> + <p> + “This is the dwelling, or rather the kennel, of an exile, but my own + room is cleaner. Let us go there.” + </p> + <p> + As I entered I thought I was in a second-hand store, it was so full of + things of all descriptions, strange things of various kinds that one felt + must be souvenirs. On the walls were two pretty paintings by well-known + artists, draperies, weapons, swords and pistols, and exactly in the + middle, on the principal panel, a square of white satin in a gold frame. + </p> + <p> + Somewhat surprised, I approached to look at it, and perceived a hairpin + fastened in the centre of the glossy satin. My host placed his hand on my + shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “That,” said he, “is the only thing that I look at here, + and the only thing that I have seen for ten years. M. Prudhomme said: + 'This sword is the most memorable day of my life.' I can say: 'This + hairpin is all my life.'” + </p> + <p> + I sought for some commonplace remark, and ended by saying: + </p> + <p> + “You have suffered on account of some woman?” + </p> + <p> + He replied abruptly: + </p> + <p> + “Say, rather, that I am suffering like a wretch.” + </p> + <p> + “But come out on my balcony. A name rose to my lips just now which I + dared not utter; for if you had said 'Dead' as you did of Sophie Astier, I + should have fired a bullet into my brain, this very day.” + </p> + <p> + We had gone out on the wide balcony from whence we could see two gulfs, + one to the right and the other to the left, enclosed by high gray + mountains. It was just twilight and the reflection of the sunset still + lingered in the sky. + </p> + <p> + He continued: + </p> + <p> + “Is Jeanne de Limours still alive?” + </p> + <p> + His eyes were fastened on mine and were full of a trembling anxiety. I + smiled. + </p> + <p> + “Parbleu—she is prettier than ever.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you know her?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + He hesitated and then said: + </p> + <p> + “Very well?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + He took my hand. + </p> + <p> + “Tell me about her,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Why, I have nothing to tell. She is one of the most charming women, + or, rather, girls, and the most admired in Paris. She leads a delightful + existence and lives like a princess, that is all.” + </p> + <p> + “I love her,” he murmured in a tone in which he might have + said “I am going to die.” Then suddenly he continued: + </p> + <p> + “Ah! For three years we lived in a state of terror and delight. I + almost killed her five or six times. She tried to pierce my eyes with that + hairpin that you saw just now. Look, do you see that little white spot + beneath my left eye? We loved each other. How can I explain that + infatuation? You would not understand it.” + </p> + <p> + “There must be a simple form of love, the result of the mutual + impulse of two hearts and two souls. But there is also assuredly an + atrocious form, that tortures one cruelly, the result of the occult + blending of two unlike personalities who detest each other at the same + time that they adore one another.” + </p> + <p> + “In three years this woman had ruined me. I had four million francs + which she squandered in her calm manner, quietly, eat them up with a + gentle smile that seemed to fall from her eyes on to her lips.” + </p> + <p> + “You know her? There is something irresistible about her. What is + it? I do not know. Is it those gray eyes whose glance penetrates you like + a gimlet and remains there like the point of an arrow? It is more likely + the gentle, indifferent and fascinating smile that she wears like a mask. + Her slow grace pervades you little by little; exhales from her like a + perfume, from her slim figure that scarcely sways as she passes you, for + she seems to glide rather than walk; from her pretty voice with its slight + drawl that would seem to be the music of her smile; from her gestures, + also, which are never exaggerated, but always appropriate, and intoxicate + your vision with their harmony. For three years she was the only being + that existed for me on the earth! How I suffered; for she deceived me as + she deceived everyone! Why? For no reason; just for the pleasure of + deceiving. And when I found it out, when I treated her as a common girl + and a beggar, she said quietly: 'Are we married?' + </p> + <p> + “Since I have been here I have thought so much about her that at + last I understand her. She is Manon Lescaut come back to life. It is + Marion, who could not love without deceiving; Marion for whom love, + amusement, money, are all one.” + </p> + <p> + He was silent. After a few minutes he resumed: + </p> + <p> + “When I had spent my last sou on her she said simply: + </p> + <p> + “'You understand, my dear boy, that I cannot live on air and + weather. I love you very much, better than anyone, but I must live. + Poverty and I could not keep house together.” + </p> + <p> + “And if I should tell you what a horrible life I led with her! When + I looked at her I would just as soon have killed her as kissed her. When I + looked at her . . . I felt a furious desire to open my arms to embrace and + strangle her. She had, back of her eyes, something false and intangible + that made me execrate her; and that was, perhaps, the reason I loved her + so well. The eternal feminine, the odious and seductive feminine, was + stronger in her than in any other woman. She was full of it, overcharged, + as with a venomous and intoxicating fluid. She was a woman to a greater + extent than any one has ever been.” + </p> + <p> + “And when I went out with her she would look at all men in such a + manner that she seemed to offer herself to each in a single glance. This + exasperated me, and still it attached me to her all the more. This + creature in just walking along the street belonged to everyone, in spite + of me, in spite of herself, by the very fact of her nature, although she + had a modest, gentle carriage. Do you understand? + </p> + <p> + “And what torture! At the theatre, at the restaurant she seemed to + belong to others under my very eyes. And as soon as I left her she did + belong to others. + </p> + <p> + “It is now ten years since I saw her and I love her better than + ever.” + </p> + <p> + Night spread over the earth. A strong perfume of orange blossoms pervaded + the air. I said: + </p> + <p> + “Will you see her again?” + </p> + <p> + “Parbleu! I now have here, in land and money, seven to eight + thousand francs. When I reach a million I shall sell out and go away. I + shall have enough to live on with her for a year—one whole year. And + then, good-bye, my life will be finished.” + </p> + <p> + “But after that?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “After that, I do not know. That will be all, I may possibly ask her + to take me as a valet de chambre.” + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0097"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + YVETTE SAMORIS + </h2> + <div class='ph3'> + “The Comtesse Samoris.” + </div> + <p> + “That lady in black over there?” + </p> + <p> + “The very one. She's wearing mourning for her daughter, whom she + killed.” + </p> + <p> + “You don't mean that seriously? How did she die?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! it is a very simple story, without any crime in it, any + violence.” + </p> + <p> + “Then what really happened?” + </p> + <p> + “Almost nothing. Many courtesans are born to be virtuous women, they + say; and many women called virtuous are born to be courtesans—is + that not so? Now, Madame Samoris, who was born a courtesan, had a daughter + born a virtuous woman, that's all.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't quite understand you.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll—explain what I mean. The comtesse is nothing but a + common, ordinary parvenue originating no one knows where. A Hungarian or + Wallachian countess or I know not what. She appeared one winter in + apartments she had taken in the Champs Elysees, that quarter for + adventurers and adventuresses, and opened her drawing-room to the first + comer or to any one that turned up. + </p> + <p> + “I went there. Why? you will say. I really can't tell you. I went + there, as every one goes to such places because the women are facile and + the men are dishonest. You know that set composed of filibusters with + varied decorations, all noble, all titled, all unknown at the embassies, + with the exception of those who are spies. All talk of their honor without + the slightest occasion for doing so, boast of their ancestors, tell you + about their lives, braggarts, liars, sharpers, as dangerous as the false + cards they have up their sleeves, as delusive as their names—in + short, the aristocracy of the bagnio. + </p> + <p> + “I adore these people. They are interesting to study, interesting to + know, amusing to understand, often clever, never commonplace like public + functionaries. Their wives are always pretty, with a slight flavor of + foreign roguery, with the mystery of their existence, half of it perhaps + spent in a house of correction. They have, as a rule, magnificent eyes and + incredible hair. I adore them also. + </p> + <p> + “Madame Samoris is the type of these adventuresses, elegant, mature + and still beautiful. Charming feline creatures, you feel that they are + vicious to the marrow of their bones. You find them very amusing when you + visit them; they give card parties; they have dances and suppers; in + short, they offer you all the pleasures of social life. + </p> + <p> + “And she had a daughter—a tall, fine-looking girl, always + ready for amusement, always full of laughter and reckless gaiety—a + true adventuress' daughter—but, at the same time, an innocent, + unsophisticated, artless girl, who saw nothing, knew nothing, understood + nothing of all the things that happened in her father's house. + </p> + <p> + “The girl was simply a puzzle to me. She was a mystery. She lived + amid those infamous surroundings with a quiet, tranquil ease that was + either terribly criminal or else the result of innocence. She sprang from + the filth of that class like a beautiful flower fed on corruption.” + </p> + <p> + “How do you know about them?” + </p> + <p> + “How do I know? That's the funniest part of the business! One + morning there was a ring at my door, and my valet came up to tell me that + M. Joseph Bonenthal wanted to speak to me. I said directly: + </p> + <p> + “'And who is this gentleman?' My valet replied: 'I don't know, + monsieur; perhaps 'tis some one that wants employment.' And so it was. The + man wanted me to take him as a servant. I asked him where he had been + last. He answered: 'With the Comtesse Samoris.' 'Ah!' said I, 'but my + house is not a bit like hers.' 'I know that well, monsieur,' he said, 'and + that's the very reason I want to take service with monsieur. I've had + enough of these people: a man may stay a little while with them, but he + won't remain long with them.' I required an additional man servant at the + time and so I took him. + </p> + <p> + “A month later Mademoiselle Yvette Samoris died mysteriously, and + here are all the details of her death I could gather from Joseph, who got + them from his sweetheart, the comtesse's chambermaid. + </p> + <p> + “It was a ball night, and two newly arrived guests were chatting + behind a door. Mademoiselle Yvette, who had just been dancing, leaned + against this door to get a little air. + </p> + <p> + “They did not see her approaching, but she heard what they were + saying. And this was what they said: + </p> + <p> + “'But who is the father of the girl?' + </p> + <p> + “'A Russian, it appears; Count Rouvaloff. He never comes near the + mother now.' + </p> + <p> + “'And who is the reigning prince to-day?' + </p> + <p> + “'That English prince standing near the window; Madame Samoris + adores him. But her adoration of any one never lasts longer than a month + or six weeks. Nevertheless, as you see, she has a large circle of + admirers. All are called—and nearly all are chosen. That kind of + thing costs a good deal, but—hang it, what can you expect?' + </p> + <p> + “'And where did she get this name of Samoris?' + </p> + <p> + “'From the only man perhaps that she ever loved—a Jewish + banker from Berlin who goes by the name of Samuel Morris.' + </p> + <p> + “'Good. Thanks. Now that I know what kind of woman she is and have + seen her, I'm off!' + </p> + <p> + “What a shock this was to the mind of a young girl endowed with all + the instincts of a virtuous woman! What despair overwhelmed that simple + soul! What mental tortures quenched her unbounded gaiety, her delightful + laughter, her exultant satisfaction with life! What a conflict took place + in that youthful heart up to the moment when the last guest had left! + Those were things that Joseph could not tell me. But, the same night, + Yvette abruptly entered her mother's room just as the comtesse was getting + into bed, sent out the lady's maid, who was close to the door, and, + standing erect and pale and with great staring eyes, she said: + </p> + <p> + “'Mamma, listen to what I heard a little while ago during the ball.' + </p> + <p> + “And she repeated word for word the conversation just as I told it + to you. + </p> + <p> + “The comtesse was so stunned that she did not know what to say in + reply at first. When she recovered her self-possession she denied + everything and called God to witness that there was no truth in the story. + </p> + <p> + “The young girl went away, distracted but not convinced. And she + began to watch her mother. + </p> + <p> + “I remember distinctly the strange alteration that then took place + in her. She became grave and melancholy. She would fix on us her great + earnest eyes as if she wanted to read what was at the bottom of our + hearts. We did not know what to think of her and used to imagine that she + was looking out for a husband. + </p> + <p> + “One evening she overheard her mother talking to her admirer and + later saw them together, and her doubts were confirmed. She was + heartbroken, and after telling her mother what she had seen, she said + coldly, like a man of business laying down the terms of an agreement: + </p> + <p> + “'Here is what I have determined to do, mamma: We will both go away + to some little town, or rather into the country. We will live there + quietly as well as we can. Your jewelry alone may be called a fortune. If + you wish to marry some honest man, so much the better; still better will + it be if I can find one. If you don't consent to do this, I will kill + myself.' + </p> + <p> + “This time the comtesse ordered her daughter to go to bed and never + to speak again in this manner, so unbecoming in the mouth of a child + toward her mother. + </p> + <p> + “Yvette's answer to this was: 'I give you a month to reflect. If, at + the end of that month, we have not changed our way of living, I will kill + myself, since there is no other honorable issue left to my life.' + </p> + <p> + “And she left the room. + </p> + <p> + “At the end of a month the Comtesse Samoris had resumed her usual + entertainments, as though nothing had occurred. One day, under the pretext + that she had a bad toothache, Yvette purchased a few drops of chloroform + from a neighboring chemist. The next day she purchased more, and every + time she went out she managed to procure small doses of the narcotic. She + filled a bottle with it. + </p> + <p> + “One morning she was found in bed, lifeless and already quite cold, + with a cotton mask soaked in chloroform over her face. + </p> + <p> + “Her coffin was covered with flowers, the church was hung in white. + There was a large crowd at the funeral ceremony. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! well, if I had known—but you never can know—I would + have married that girl, for she was infernally pretty.” + </p> + <p> + “And what became of the mother?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! she shed a lot of tears over it. She has only begun to receive + visits again for the past week.” + </p> + <p> + “And what explanation is given of the girl's death?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! they pretended that it was an accident caused by a new stove, + the mechanism of which got out of order. As a good many such accidents + have occurred, the thing seemed probable enough.” + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0098"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + A VENDETTA + </h2> + <p> + The widow of Paolo Saverini lived alone with her son in a poor little + house on the outskirts of Bonifacio. The town, built on an outjutting part + of the mountain, in places even overhanging the sea, looks across the + straits, full of sandbanks, towards the southernmost coast of Sardinia. + Beneath it, on the other side and almost surrounding it, is a cleft in the + cliff like an immense corridor which serves as a harbor, and along it the + little Italian and Sardinian fishing boats come by a circuitous route + between precipitous cliffs as far as the first houses, and every two weeks + the old, wheezy steamer which makes the trip to Ajaccio. + </p> + <p> + On the white mountain the houses, massed together, makes an even whiter + spot. They look like the nests of wild birds, clinging to this peak, + overlooking this terrible passage, where vessels rarely venture. The wind, + which blows uninterruptedly, has swept bare the forbidding coast; it + drives through the narrow straits and lays waste both sides. The pale + streaks of foam, clinging to the black rocks, whose countless peaks rise + up out of the water, look like bits of rag floating and drifting on the + surface of the sea. + </p> + <p> + The house of widow Saverini, clinging to the very edge of the precipice, + looks out, through its three windows, over this wild and desolate picture. + </p> + <p> + She lived there alone, with her son Antonia and their dog “Semillante,” + a big, thin beast, with a long rough coat, of the sheep-dog breed. The + young man took her with him when out hunting. + </p> + <p> + One night, after some kind of a quarrel, Antoine Saverini was + treacherously stabbed by Nicolas Ravolati, who escaped the same evening to + Sardinia. + </p> + <p> + When the old mother received the body of her child, which the neighbors + had brought back to her, she did not cry, but she stayed there for a long + time motionless, watching him. Then, stretching her wrinkled hand over the + body, she promised him a vendetta. She did not wish anybody near her, and + she shut herself up beside the body with the dog, which howled + continuously, standing at the foot of the bed, her head stretched towards + her master and her tail between her legs. She did not move any more than + did the mother, who, now leaning over the body with a blank stare, was + weeping silently and watching it. + </p> + <p> + The young man, lying on his back, dressed in his jacket of coarse cloth, + torn at the chest, seemed to be asleep. But he had blood all over him; on + his shirt, which had been torn off in order to administer the first aid; + on his vest, on his trousers, on his face, on his hands. Clots of blood + had hardened in his beard and in his hair. + </p> + <p> + His old mother began to talk to him. At the sound of this voice the dog + quieted down. + </p> + <p> + “Never fear, my boy, my little baby, you shall be avenged. Sleep, + sleep; you shall be avenged. Do you hear? It's your mother's promise! And + she always keeps her word, your mother does, you know she does.” + </p> + <p> + Slowly she leaned over him, pressing her cold lips to his dead ones. + </p> + <p> + Then Semillante began to howl again with a long, monotonous, penetrating, + horrible howl. + </p> + <p> + The two of them, the woman and the dog, remained there until morning. + </p> + <p> + Antoine Saverini was buried the next day and soon his name ceased to be + mentioned in Bonifacio. + </p> + <p> + He had neither brothers nor cousins. No man was there to carry on the + vendetta. His mother, the old woman, alone pondered over it. + </p> + <p> + On the other side of the straits she saw, from morning until night, a + little white speck on the coast. It was the little Sardinian village + Longosardo, where Corsican criminals take refuge when they are too closely + pursued. They compose almost the entire population of this hamlet, + opposite their native island, awaiting the time to return, to go back to + the “maquis.” She knew that Nicolas Ravolati had sought refuge + in this village. + </p> + <p> + All alone, all day long, seated at her window, she was looking over there + and thinking of revenge. How could she do anything without help—she, + an invalid and so near death? But she had promised, she had sworn on the + body. She could not forget, she could not wait. What could she do? She no + longer slept at night; she had neither rest nor peace of mind; she thought + persistently. The dog, dozing at her feet, would sometimes lift her head + and howl. Since her master's death she often howled thus, as though she + were calling him, as though her beast's soul, inconsolable too, had also + retained a recollection that nothing could wipe out. + </p> + <p> + One night, as Semillante began to howl, the mother suddenly got hold of an + idea, a savage, vindictive, fierce idea. She thought it over until + morning. Then, having arisen at daybreak she went to church. She prayed, + prostrate on the floor, begging the Lord to help her, to support her, to + give to her poor, broken-down body the strength which she needed in order + to avenge her son. + </p> + <p> + She returned home. In her yard she had an old barrel, which acted as a + cistern. She turned it over, emptied it, made it fast to the ground with + sticks and stones. Then she chained Semillante to this improvised kennel + and went into the house. + </p> + <p> + She walked ceaselessly now, her eyes always fixed on the distant coast of + Sardinia. He was over there, the murderer. + </p> + <p> + All day and all night the dog howled. In the morning the old woman brought + her some water in a bowl, but nothing more; no soup, no bread. + </p> + <p> + Another day went by. Semillante, exhausted, was sleeping. The following + day her eyes were shining, her hair on end and she was pulling wildly at + her chain. + </p> + <p> + All this day the old woman gave her nothing to eat. The beast, furious, + was barking hoarsely. Another night went by. + </p> + <p> + Then, at daybreak, Mother Saverini asked a neighbor for some straw. She + took the old rags which had formerly been worn by her husband and stuffed + them so as to make them look like a human body. + </p> + <p> + Having planted a stick in the ground, in front of Semillante's kennel, she + tied to it this dummy, which seemed to be standing up. Then she made a + head out of some old rags. + </p> + <p> + The dog, surprised, was watching this straw man, and was quiet, although + famished. Then the old woman went to the store and bought a piece of black + sausage. When she got home she started a fire in the yard, near the + kennel, and cooked the sausage. Semillante, frantic, was jumping about, + frothing at the mouth, her eyes fixed on the food, the odor of which went + right to her stomach. + </p> + <p> + Then the mother made of the smoking sausage a necktie for the dummy. She + tied it very tight around the neck with string, and when she had finished + she untied the dog. + </p> + <p> + With one leap the beast jumped at the dummy's throat, and with her paws on + its shoulders she began to tear at it. She would fall back with a piece of + food in her mouth, then would jump again, sinking her fangs into the + string, and snatching few pieces of meat she would fall back again and + once more spring forward. She was tearing up the face with her teeth and + the whole neck was in tatters. + </p> + <p> + The old woman, motionless and silent, was watching eagerly. Then she + chained the beast up again, made her fast for two more days and began this + strange performance again. + </p> + <p> + For three months she accustomed her to this battle, to this meal conquered + by a fight. She no longer chained her up, but just pointed to the dummy. + </p> + <p> + She had taught her to tear him up and to devour him without even leaving + any traces in her throat. + </p> + <p> + Then, as a reward, she would give her a piece of sausage. + </p> + <p> + As soon as she saw the man, Semillante would begin to tremble. Then she + would look up to her mistress, who, lifting her finger, would cry, “Go!” + in a shrill tone. + </p> + <p> + When she thought that the proper time had come, the widow went to + confession and, one Sunday morning she partook of communion with an + ecstatic fervor. Then, putting on men's clothes and looking like an old + tramp, she struck a bargain with a Sardinian fisherman who carried her and + her dog to the other side of the straits. + </p> + <p> + In a bag she had a large piece of sausage. Semillante had had nothing to + eat for two days. The old woman kept letting her smell the food and + whetting her appetite. + </p> + <p> + They got to Longosardo. The Corsican woman walked with a limp. She went to + a baker's shop and asked for Nicolas Ravolati. He had taken up his old + trade, that of carpenter. He was working alone at the back of his store. + </p> + <p> + The old woman opened the door and called: + </p> + <p> + “Hallo, Nicolas!” + </p> + <p> + He turned around. Then releasing her dog, she cried: + </p> + <p> + “Go, go! Eat him up! eat him up!” + </p> + <p> + The maddened animal sprang for his throat. The man stretched out his arms, + clasped the dog and rolled to the ground. For a few seconds he squirmed, + beating the ground with his feet. Then he stopped moving, while Semillante + dug her fangs into his throat and tore it to ribbons. Two neighbors, + seated before their door, remembered perfectly having seen an old beggar + come out with a thin, black dog which was eating something that its master + was giving him. + </p> + <p> + At nightfall the old woman was at home again. She slept well that night. + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0099"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + MY TWENTY-FIVE DAYS + </h2> + <p> + I had just taken possession of my room in the hotel, a narrow den between + two papered partitions, through which I could hear every sound made by my + neighbors; and I was beginning to arrange my clothes and linen in the + wardrobe with a long mirror, when I opened the drawer which is in this + piece of furniture. I immediately noticed a roll of paper. Having opened + it, I spread it out before me, and read this title: + </p> +<div class='pre'> + My Twenty-five Days. +</div> + <p> + It was the diary of a guest at the watering place, of the last occupant of + my room, and had been forgotten at the moment of departure. + </p> + <p> + These notes may be of some interest to sensible and healthy persons who + never leave their own homes. It is for their benefit that I transcribe + them without altering a letter. + </p> +<div class='pre'> + “CHATEL-GUYON, July 15th. +</div> + <p> + “At the first glance it is not lively, this country. However, I am + going to spend twenty-five days here, to have my liver and stomach + treated, and to get thin. The twenty-five days of any one taking the baths + are very like the twenty-eight days of the reserves; they are all devoted + to fatigue duty, severe fatigue duty. To-day I have done nothing as yet; I + have been getting settled. I have made the acquaintance of the locality + and of the doctor. Chatel-Guyon consists of a stream in which flows yellow + water, in the midst of several hillocks on which are a casino, some + houses, and some stone crosses. On the bank of the stream, at the end of + the valley, may be seen a square building surrounded by a little garden; + this is the bathing establishment. Sad people wander around this building—the + invalids. A great silence reigns in the walks shaded by trees, for this is + not a pleasure resort, but a true health resort; one takes care of one's + health as a business, and one gets well, so it seems. + </p> + <p> + “Those who know affirm, even, that the mineral springs perform true + miracles here. However, no votive offering is hung around the cashier's + office. + </p> + <p> + “From time to time a gentleman or a lady comes over to a kiosk with + a slate roof, which shelters a woman of smiling and gentle aspect, and a + spring boiling in a basin of cement: Not a word is exchanged between the + invalid and the female custodian of the healing water. She hands the + newcomer a little glass in which air bubbles sparkle in the transparent + liquid. The guest drinks and goes off with a grave step to resume his + interrupted walk beneath the trees. + </p> + <p> + “No noise in the little park, no breath of air in the leaves; no + voice passes through this silence. One ought to write at the entrance to + this district: 'No one laughs here; they take care of their health.' + </p> + <p> + “The people who chat resemble mutes who merely open their mouths to + simulate sounds, so afraid are they that their voices might escape. + </p> + <p> + “In the hotel, the same silence. It is a big hotel, where you dine + solemnly with people of good position, who have nothing to say to each + other. Their manners bespeak good breeding, and their faces reflect the + conviction of a superiority of which it might be difficult for some to + give actual proofs. + </p> + <p> + “At two o'clock I made my way up to the Casino, a little wooden hut + perched on a hillock, which one reaches by a goat path. But the view from + that height is admirable. Chatel-Guyon is situated in a very narrow + valley, exactly between the plain and the mountain. I perceive, at the + left, the first great billows of the mountains of Auvergne, covered with + woods, and here and there big gray patches, hard masses of lava, for we + are at the foot of the extinct volcanoes. At the right, through the narrow + cut of the valley, I discover a plain, infinite as the sea, steeped in a + bluish fog which lets one only dimly discern the villages, the towns, the + yellow fields of ripe grain, and the green squares of meadowland shaded + with apple trees. It is the Limagne, an immense level, always enveloped in + a light veil of vapor. + </p> + <p> + “The night has come. And now, after having dined alone, I write + these lines beside my open window. I hear, over there, in front of me, the + little orchestra of the Casino, which plays airs just as a foolish bird + might sing all alone in the desert. + </p> + <p> + “A dog barks at intervals. This great calm does one good. Goodnight. + </p> + <p> + “July 16th.—Nothing new. I have taken a bath and then a shower + bath. I have swallowed three glasses of water, and I have walked along the + paths in the park, a quarter of an hour between each glass, then half an + hour after the last. I have begun my twenty-five days. + </p> + <p> + “July 17th.—Remarked two mysterious, pretty women who are + taking their baths and their meals after every one else has finished. + </p> + <p> + “July 18th.—Nothing new. + </p> + <p> + “July 19th.—Saw the two pretty women again. They have style + and a little indescribable air which I like very much. + </p> + <p> + “July 20th.—Long walk in a charming wooded valley, as far as + the Hermitage of Sans-Souci. This country is delightful, although sad; but + so calm; so sweet, so green. One meets along the mountain roads long + wagons loaded with hay, drawn by two cows at a slow pace or held back by + them in going down the slopes with a great effort of their heads, which + are yoked together. A man with a big black hat on his head is driving them + with a slender stick, tipping them on the side or on the forehead; and + often with a simple gesture, an energetic and serious gesture, he suddenly + halts them when the excessive load precipitates their journey down the too + rugged descents. + </p> + <p> + “The air is good to inhale in these valleys. And, if it is very + warm, the dust bears with it a light odor of vanilla and of the stable, + for so many cows pass over these routes that they leave reminders + everywhere. And this odor is a perfume, when it would be a stench if it + came from other animals. + </p> + <p> + “July 21st.—Excursion to the valley of the Enval. It is a + narrow gorge inclosed by superb rocks at the very foot of the mountain. A + stream flows amid the heaped-up boulders. + </p> + <p> + “As I reached the bottom of this ravine I heard women's voices, and + I soon perceived the two mysterious ladies of my hotel, who were chatting, + seated on a stone. + </p> + <p> + “The occasion appeared to me a good one, and I introduced myself + without hesitation. My overtures were received without embarrassment. We + walked back together to the hotel. And we talked about Paris. They knew, + it seemed, many people whom I knew, too. Who can they be? + </p> + <p> + “I shall see them to-morrow. There is nothing more amusing than such + meetings as this. + </p> + <p> + “July 22d.—Day passed almost entirely with the two unknown + ladies. They are very pretty, by Jove!—one a brunette and the other + a blonde. They say they are widows. H'm? + </p> + <p> + “I offered to accompany them to Royat tomorrow, and they accepted my + offer. + </p> + <p> + “Chatel-Guyon is less sad than I thought on my arrival. + </p> + <p> + “July 23d.—Day spent at Royat. Royat is a little patch of + hotels at the bottom of a valley, at the gate of Clermont-Ferrand. A great + many people there. A large park full of life. Superb view of the + Puyde-Dome, seen at the end of a perspective of valleys. + </p> + <p> + “My fair companions are very popular, which is flattering to me. The + man who escorts a pretty woman always believes himself crowned with an + aureole; with much more reason, the man who is accompanied by one on each + side of him. Nothing is so pleasant as to dine in a fashionable restaurant + with a female companion at whom everybody stares, and there is nothing + better calculated to exalt a man in the estimation of his neighbors. + </p> + <p> + “To go to the Bois, in a trap drawn by a sorry nag, or to go out + into the boulevard escorted by a plain woman, are the two most humiliating + things that could happen to a sensitive heart that values the opinion of + others. Of all luxuries, woman is the rarest and the most distinguished; + she is the one that costs most and which we desire most; she is, therefore + the one that we should seek by preference to exhibit to the jealous eyes + of the world. + </p> + <p> + “To exhibit to the world a pretty woman leaning on your arm is to + excite, all at once, every kind of jealousy. It is as much as to say: + 'Look here! I am rich, since I possess this rare and costly object; I have + taste, since I have known how to discover this pearl; perhaps, even, I am + loved by her, unless I am deceived by her, which would still prove that + others also consider her charming. + </p> + <p> + “But, what a disgrace it is to walk about town with an ugly woman! + </p> + <p> + “And how many humiliating things this gives people to understand! + </p> + <p> + “In the first place, they assume she must be your wife, for how + could it be supposed that you would have an unattractive sweetheart? A + true woman may be ungraceful; but then, her ugliness implies a thousand + disagreeable things for you. One supposes you must be a notary or a + magistrate, as these two professions have a monopoly of grotesque and + well-dowered spouses. Now, is this not distressing to a man? And then, it + seems to proclaim to the public that you have the odious courage, and are + even under a legal obligation, to caress that ridiculous face and that + ill-shaped body, and that you will, without doubt, be shameless enough to + make a mother of this by no means desirable being—which is the very + height of the ridiculous. + </p> + <p> + “July 24th.—I never leave the side of the two unknown widows, + whom I am beginning to know quite well. This country is delightful and our + hotel is excellent. Good season. The treatment is doing me an immense + amount of good. + </p> + <p> + “July 25th.—Drive in a landau to the lake of Tazenat. An + exquisite and unexpected jaunt decided on at luncheon. We started + immediately on rising from table. After a long journey through the + mountains we suddenly perceived an admirable little lake, quite round, + very blue, clear as glass, and situated at the bottom of an extinct + crater. One side of this immense basin is barren, the other is wooded. In + the midst of the trees is a small house where sleeps a good-natured, + intellectual man, a sage who passes his days in this Virgilian region. He + opens his dwelling for us. An idea comes into my head. I exclaim: + </p> + <p> + “'Supposing we bathe?' + </p> + <p> + “'Yes,' they said, 'but costumes.' + </p> + <p> + “'Bah! we are in the wilderness.' + </p> + <p> + “And we did bathe! + </p> + <p> + “If I were a poet, how I would describe this unforgettable vision of + those lissome young forms in the transparency of the water! The high, + sloping sides shut in the lake, motionless, gleaming and round, as a + silver coin; the sun pours into it a flood of warm light; and along the + rocks the fair forms move in the almost invisible water in which the + swimmers seemed suspended. On the sand at the bottom of the lake one could + see their shadows as they moved along. + </p> + <p> + “July 26th.—Some persons seem to look with shocked and + disapproving eyes at my rapid intimacy with the two fair widows. There are + some people, then, who imagine that life consists in being bored. + Everything that appears to be amusing becomes immediately a breach of good + breeding or morality. For them duty has inflexible and mortally tedious + rules. + </p> + <p> + “I would draw their attention, with all respect, to the fact that + duty is not the same for Mormons, Arabs Zulus, Turks, Englishmen, and + Frenchmen, and that there are very virtuous people among all these + nations. + </p> + <p> + “I will cite a single example. As regards women, duty begins in + England at nine years of age; in France at fifteen. As for me, I take a + little of each people's notion of duty, and of the whole I make a result + comparable to the morality of good King Solomon. + </p> + <p> + “July 27th.—Good news. I have lost 620 grams in weight. + Excellent, this water of Chatel-Guyon! I am taking the widows to dine at + Riom. A sad town whose anagram constitutes it an objectionable neighbor to + healing springs: Riom, Mori. + </p> + <p> + “July 28th.—Hello, how's this! My two widows have been visited + by two gentlemen who came to look for them. Two widowers, without doubt. + They are leaving this evening. They have written to me on fancy notepaper. + </p> + <p> + “July 29th.—Alone! Long excursion on foot to the extinct + crater of Nachere. Splendid view. + </p> + <p> + “July 30th.—Nothing. I am taking the treatment. + </p> + <p> + “July 31st.—Ditto. Ditto. This pretty country is full of + polluted streams. I am drawing the notice of the municipality to the + abominable sewer which poisons the road in front of the hotel. All the + kitchen refuse of the establishment is thrown into it. This is a good way + to breed cholera. + </p> + <p> + “August 1st.—Nothing. The treatment. + </p> + <p> + “August 2d.—Admirable walk to Chateauneuf, a place of sojourn + for rheumatic patients, where everybody is lame. Nothing can be queerer + than this population of cripples! + </p> + <p> + “August 3d.—Nothing. The treatment. + </p> + <p> + “August 4th.—Ditto. Ditto. + </p> + <p> + “August 5th.—Ditto. Ditto. + </p> + <p> + “August 6th.—Despair! I have just weighed myself. I have + gained 310 grams. But then? + </p> + <p> + “August 7th.—Drove sixty-six kilometres in a carriage on the + mountain. I will not mention the name of the country through respect for + its women. + </p> + <p> + “This excursion had been pointed out to me as a beautiful one, and + one that was rarely made. After four hours on the road, I arrived at a + rather pretty village on the banks of a river in the midst of an admirable + wood of walnut trees. I had not yet seen a forest of walnut trees of such + dimensions in Auvergne. It constitutes, moreover, all the wealth of the + district, for it is planted on the village common. This common was + formerly only a hillside covered with brushwood. The authorities had tried + in vain to get it cultivated. There was scarcely enough pasture on it to + feed a few sheep. + </p> + <p> + “To-day it is a superb wood, thanks to the women, and it has a + curious name: it is called the Sins of the Cure. + </p> + <p> + “Now I must say that the women of the mountain districts have the + reputation of being light, lighter than in the plain. A bachelor who meets + them owes them at least a kiss; and if he does not take more he is only a + blockhead. If we consider this fairly, this way of looking at the matter + is the only one that is logical and reasonable. As woman, whether she be + of the town or the country, has her natural mission to please man, man + should always show her that she pleases him. If he abstains from every + sort of demonstration, this means that he considers her ugly; it is almost + an insult to her. If I were a woman, I would not receive, a second time, a + man who failed to show me respect at our first meeting, for I would + consider that he had failed in appreciation of my beauty, my charm, and my + feminine qualities. + </p> + <p> + “So the bachelors of the village X often proved to the women of the + district that they found them to their taste, and, as the cure was unable + to prevent these demonstrations, as gallant as they were natural, he + resolved to utilize them for the benefit of the general prosperity. So he + imposed as a penance on every woman who had gone wrong that she should + plant a walnut tree on the common. And every night lanterns were seen + moving about like will-o'-the-wisps on the hillock, for the erring ones + scarcely like to perform their penance in broad daylight. + </p> + <p> + “In two years there was no longer any room on the lands belonging to + the village, and to-day they calculate that there are more than three + thousand trees around the belfry which rings out the services amid their + foliage. These are the Sins of the Cure. + </p> + <p> + “Since we have been seeking for so many ways of rewooding France, + the Administration of Forests might surely enter into some arrangement + with the clergy to employ a method so simple as that employed by this + humble cure. + </p> + <p> + “August 7th.—Treatment. + </p> + <p> + “August 8th.—I am packing up my trunks and saying good-by to + the charming little district so calm and silent, to the green mountain, to + the quiet valleys, to the deserted Casino, from which you can see, almost + veiled by its light, bluish mist, the immense plain of the Limagne. + </p> + <p> + “I shall leave to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + Here the manuscript stopped. I will add nothing to it, my impressions of + the country not having been exactly the same as those of my predecessor. + For I did not find the two widows! + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0100"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + “THE TERROR” + </h2> + <p> + You say you cannot possibly understand it, and I believe you. You think I + am losing my mind? Perhaps I am, but for other reasons than those you + imagine, my dear friend. + </p> + <p> + Yes, I am going to be married, and will tell you what has led me to take + that step. + </p> + <p> + I may add that I know very little of the girl who is going to become my + wife to-morrow; I have only seen her four or five times. I know that there + is nothing unpleasing about her, and that is enough for my purpose. She is + small, fair, and stout; so, of course, the day after to-morrow I shall + ardently wish for a tall, dark, thin woman. + </p> + <p> + She is not rich, and belongs to the middle classes. She is a girl such as + you may find by the gross, well adapted for matrimony, without any + apparent faults, and with no particularly striking qualities. People say + of her: + </p> + <p> + “Mlle. Lajolle is a very nice girl,” and tomorrow they will + say: “What a very nice woman Madame Raymon is.” She belongs, + in a word, to that immense number of girls whom one is glad to have for + one's wife, till the moment comes when one discovers that one happens to + prefer all other women to that particular woman whom one has married. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” you will say to me, “what on earth did you get + married for?” + </p> + <p> + I hardly like to tell you the strange and seemingly improbable reason that + urged me on to this senseless act; the fact, however, is that I am afraid + of being alone. + </p> + <p> + I don't know how to tell you or to make you understand me, but my state of + mind is so wretched that you will pity me and despise me. + </p> + <p> + I do not want to be alone any longer at night. I want to feel that there + is some one close to me, touching me, a being who can speak and say + something, no matter what it be. + </p> + <p> + I wish to be able to awaken somebody by my side, so that I may be able to + ask some sudden question, a stupid question even, if I feel inclined, so + that I may hear a human voice, and feel that there is some waking soul + close to me, some one whose reason is at work; so that when I hastily + light the candle I may see some human face by my side—because—because + —I am ashamed to confess it—because I am afraid of being + alone. + </p> + <p> + Oh, you don't understand me yet. + </p> + <p> + I am not afraid of any danger; if a man were to come into the room, I + should kill him without trembling. I am not afraid of ghosts, nor do I + believe in the supernatural. I am not afraid of dead people, for I believe + in the total annihilation of every being that disappears from the face of + this earth. + </p> + <p> + Well—yes, well, it must be told: I am afraid of myself, afraid of + that horrible sensation of incomprehensible fear. + </p> + <p> + You may laugh, if you like. It is terrible, and I cannot get over it. I am + afraid of the walls, of the furniture, of the familiar objects; which are + animated, as far as I am concerned, by a kind of animal life. Above all, I + am afraid of my own dreadful thoughts, of my reason, which seems as if it + were about to leave me, driven away by a mysterious and invisible agony. + </p> + <p> + At first I feel a vague uneasiness in my mind, which causes a cold shiver + to run all over me. I look round, and of course nothing is to be seen, and + I wish that there were something there, no matter what, as long as it were + something tangible. I am frightened merely because I cannot understand my + own terror. + </p> + <p> + If I speak, I am afraid of my own voice. If I walk, I am afraid of I know + not what, behind the door, behind the curtains, in the cupboard, or under + my bed, and yet all the time I know there is nothing anywhere, and I turn + round suddenly because I am afraid of what is behind me, although there is + nothing there, and I know it. + </p> + <p> + I become agitated. I feel that my fear increases, and so I shut myself up + in my own room, get into bed, and hide under the clothes; and there, + cowering down, rolled into a ball, I close my eyes in despair, and remain + thus for an indefinite time, remembering that my candle is alight on the + table by my bedside, and that I ought to put it out, and yet—I dare + not do it. + </p> + <p> + It is very terrible, is it not, to be like that? + </p> + <p> + Formerly I felt nothing of all that. I came home quite calm, and went up + and down my apartment without anything disturbing my peace of mind. Had + any one told me that I should be attacked by a malady—for I can call + it nothing else—of most improbable fear, such a stupid and terrible + malady as it is, I should have laughed outright. I was certainly never + afraid of opening the door in the dark. I went to bed slowly, without + locking it, and never got up in the middle of the night to make sure that + everything was firmly closed. + </p> + <p> + It began last year in a very strange manner on a damp autumn evening. When + my servant had left the room, after I had dined, I asked myself what I was + going to do. I walked up and down my room for some time, feeling tired + without any reason for it, unable to work, and even without energy to + read. A fine rain was falling, and I felt unhappy, a prey to one of those + fits of despondency, without any apparent cause, which make us feel + inclined to cry, or to talk, no matter to whom, so as to shake off our + depressing thoughts. + </p> + <p> + I felt that I was alone, and my rooms seemed to me to be more empty than + they had ever been before. I was in the midst of infinite and overwhelming + solitude. What was I to do? I sat down, but a kind of nervous impatience + seemed to affect my legs, so I got up and began to walk about again. I + was, perhaps, rather feverish, for my hands, which I had clasped behind + me, as one often does when walking slowly, almost seemed to burn one + another. Then suddenly a cold shiver ran down my back, and I thought the + damp air might have penetrated into my rooms, so I lit the fire for the + first time that year, and sat down again and looked at the flames. But + soon I felt that I could not possibly remain quiet, and so I got up again + and determined to go out, to pull myself together, and to find a friend to + bear me company. + </p> + <p> + I could not find anyone, so I walked to the boulevard to try and meet some + acquaintance or other there. + </p> + <p> + It was wretched everywhere, and the wet pavement glistened in the + gaslight, while the oppressive warmth of the almost impalpable rain lay + heavily over the streets and seemed to obscure the light of the lamps. + </p> + <p> + I went on slowly, saying to myself: “I shall not find a soul to talk + to.” + </p> + <p> + I glanced into several cafes, from the Madeleine as far as the Faubourg + Poissoniere, and saw many unhappy-looking individuals sitting at the + tables who did not seem even to have enough energy left to finish the + refreshments they had ordered. + </p> + <p> + For a long time I wandered aimlessly up and down, and about midnight I + started for home. I was very calm and very tired. My janitor opened the + door at once, which was quite unusual for him, and I thought that another + lodger had probably just come in. + </p> + <p> + When I go out I always double-lock the door of my room, and I found it + merely closed, which surprised me; but I supposed that some letters had + been brought up for me in the course of the evening. + </p> + <p> + I went in, and found my fire still burning so that it lighted up the room + a little, and, while in the act of taking up a candle, I noticed somebody + sitting in my armchair by the fire, warming his feet, with his back toward + me. + </p> + <p> + I was not in the slightest degree frightened. I thought, very naturally, + that some friend or other had come to see me. No doubt the porter, to whom + I had said I was going out, had lent him his own key. In a moment I + remembered all the circumstances of my return, how the street door had + been opened immediately, and that my own door was only latched and not + locked. + </p> + <p> + I could see nothing of my friend but his head, and he had evidently gone + to sleep while waiting for me, so I went up to him to rouse him. I saw him + quite distinctly; his right arm was hanging down and his legs were + crossed; the position of his head, which was somewhat inclined to the left + of the armchair, seemed to indicate that he was asleep. “Who can it + be?” I asked myself. I could not see clearly, as the room was rather + dark, so I put out my hand to touch him on the shoulder, and it came in + contact with the back of the chair. There was nobody there; the seat was + empty. + </p> + <p> + I fairly jumped with fright. For a moment I drew back as if confronted by + some terrible danger; then I turned round again, impelled by an imperious + standing upright, panting with fear, so upset that I could not collect my + thoughts, and ready to faint. + </p> + <p> + But I am a cool man, and soon recovered myself. I thought: “It is a + mere hallucination, that is all,” and I immediately began to reflect + on this phenomenon. Thoughts fly quickly at such moments. + </p> + <p> + I had been suffering from an hallucination, that was an incontestable + fact. My mind had been perfectly lucid and had acted regularly and + logically, so there was nothing the matter with the brain. It was only my + eyes that had been deceived; they had had a vision, one of those visions + which lead simple folk to believe in miracles. It was a nervous seizure of + the optical apparatus, nothing more; the eyes were rather congested, + perhaps. + </p> + <p> + I lit my candle, and when I stooped down to the fire in doing so I noticed + that I was trembling, and I raised myself up with a jump, as if somebody + had touched me from behind. + </p> + <p> + I was certainly not by any means calm. + </p> + <p> + I walked up and down a little, and hummed a tune or two. Then I + double-locked the door and felt rather reassured; now, at any rate, nobody + could come in. + </p> + <p> + I sat down again and thought over my adventure for a long time; then I + went to bed and blew out my light. + </p> + <p> + For some minutes all went well; I lay quietly on my back, but presently an + irresistible desire seized me to look round the room, and I turned over on + my side. + </p> + <p> + My fire was nearly out, and the few glowing embers threw a faint light on + the floor by the chair, where I fancied I saw the man sitting again. + </p> + <p> + I quickly struck a match, but I had been mistaken; there was nothing + there. I got up, however, and hid the chair behind my bed, and tried to + get to sleep, as the room was now dark; but I had not forgotten myself for + more than five minutes, when in my dream I saw all the scene which I had + previously witnessed as clearly as if it were reality. I woke up with a + start, and having lit the candle, sat up in bed, without venturing even to + try to go to sleep again. + </p> + <p> + Twice, however, sleep overcame me for a few moments in spite of myself, + and twice I saw the same thing again, till I fancied I was going mad. When + day broke, however, I thought that I was cured, and slept peacefully till + noon. + </p> + <p> + It was all past and over. I had been feverish, had had the nightmare. I + know not what. I had been ill, in fact, but yet thought I was a great + fool. + </p> + <p> + I enjoyed myself thoroughly that evening. I dined at a restaurant and + afterward went to the theatre, and then started for home. But as I got + near the house I was once more seized by a strange feeling of uneasiness. + I was afraid of seeing him again. I was not afraid of him, not afraid of + his presence, in which I did not believe; but I was afraid of being + deceived again. I was afraid of some fresh hallucination, afraid lest fear + should take possession of me. + </p> + <p> + For more than an hour I wandered up and down the pavement; then, feeling + that I was really too foolish, I returned home. I breathed so hard that I + could hardly get upstairs, and remained standing outside my door for more + than ten minutes; then suddenly I had a courageous impulse and my will + asserted itself. I inserted my key into the lock, and went into the + apartment with a candle in my hand. I kicked open my bedroom door, which + was partly open, and cast a frightened glance toward the fireplace. There + was nothing there. A-h! What a relief and what a delight! What a + deliverance! I walked up and down briskly and boldly, but I was not + altogether reassured, and kept turning round with a jump; the very shadows + in the corners disquieted me. + </p> + <p> + I slept badly, and was constantly disturbed by imaginary noises, but did + not see him; no, that was all over. + </p> + <p> + Since that time I have been afraid of being alone at night. I feel that + the spectre is there, close to me, around me; but it has not appeared to + me again. + </p> + <p> + And supposing it did, what would it matter, since I do not believe in it, + and know that it is nothing? + </p> + <p> + However, it still worries me, because I am constantly thinking of it. His + right arm hanging down and his head inclined to the left like a man who + was asleep—I don't want to think about it! + </p> + <p> + Why, however, am I so persistently possessed with this idea? His feet were + close to the fire! + </p> + <p> + He haunts me; it is very stupid, but who and what is he? I know that he + does not exist except in my cowardly imagination, in my fears, and in my + agony. There—enough of that! + </p> + <p> + Yes, it is all very well for me to reason with myself, to stiffen my + backbone, so to say; but I cannot remain at home because I know he is + there. I know I shall not see him again; he will not show himself again; + that is all over. But he is there, all the same, in my thoughts. He + remains invisible, but that does not prevent his being there. He is behind + the doors, in the closed cupboard, in the wardrobe, under the bed, in + every dark corner. If I open the door or the cupboard, if I take the + candle to look under the bed and throw a light on the dark places he is + there no longer, but I feel that he is behind me. I turn round, certain + that I shall not see him, that I shall never see him again; but for all + that, he is behind me. + </p> + <p> + It is very stupid, it is dreadful; but what am I to do? I cannot help it. + </p> + <p> + But if there were two of us in the place I feel certain that he would not + be there any longer, for he is there just because I am alone, simply and + solely because I am alone! + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0101"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + LEGEND OF MONT ST. MICHEL + </h2> + <p> + I had first seen it from Cancale, this fairy castle in the sea. I got an + indistinct impression of it as of a gray shadow outlined against the misty + sky. I saw it again from Avranches at sunset. The immense stretch of sand + was red, the horizon was red, the whole boundless bay was red. The rocky + castle rising out there in the distance like a weird, seignorial + residence, like a dream palace, strange and beautiful-this alone remained + black in the crimson light of the dying day. + </p> + <p> + The following morning at dawn I went toward it across the sands, my eyes + fastened on this, gigantic jewel, as big as a mountain, cut like a cameo, + and as dainty as lace. The nearer I approached the greater my admiration + grew, for nothing in the world could be more wonderful or more perfect. + </p> + <p> + As surprised as if I had discovered the habitation of a god, I wandered + through those halls supported by frail or massive columns, raising my eyes + in wonder to those spires which looked like rockets starting for the sky, + and to that marvellous assemblage of towers, of gargoyles, of slender and + charming ornaments, a regular fireworks of stone, granite lace, a + masterpiece of colossal and delicate architecture. + </p> + <p> + As I was looking up in ecstasy a Lower Normandy peasant came up to me and + told me the story of the great quarrel between Saint Michael and the + devil. + </p> + <p> + A sceptical genius has said: “God made man in his image and man has + returned the compliment.” + </p> + <p> + This saying is an eternal truth, and it would be very curious to write the + history of the local divinity of every continent as well as the history of + the patron saints in each one of our provinces. The negro has his + ferocious man-eating idols; the polygamous Mahometan fills his paradise + with women; the Greeks, like a practical people, deified all the passions. + </p> + <p> + Every village in France is under the influence of some protecting saint, + modelled according to the characteristics of the inhabitants. + </p> + <p> + Saint Michael watches over Lower Normandy, Saint Michael, the radiant and + victorious angel, the sword-carrier, the hero of Heaven, the victorious, + the conqueror of Satan. + </p> + <p> + But this is how the Lower Normandy peasant, cunning, deceitful and tricky, + understands and tells of the struggle between the great saint and the + devil. + </p> + <p> + To escape from the malice of his neighbor, the devil, Saint Michael built + himself, in the open ocean, this habitation worthy of an archangel; and + only such a saint could build a residence of such magnificence. + </p> + <p> + But as he still feared the approaches of the wicked one, he surrounded his + domains by quicksands, more treacherous even than the sea. + </p> + <p> + The devil lived in a humble cottage on the hill, but he owned all the salt + marshes, the rich lands where grow the finest crops, the wooded valleys + and all the fertile hills of the country, while the saint ruled only + over the sands. Therefore Satan was rich, whereas Saint Michael was as + poor as a church mouse. + </p> + <p> + After a few years of fasting the saint grew tired of this state of affairs + and began to think of some compromise with the devil, but the matter was + by no means easy, as Satan kept a good hold on his crops. + </p> + <p> + He thought the thing over for about six months; then one morning he walked + across to the shore. The demon was eating his soup in front of his door + when he saw the saint. He immediately rushed toward him, kissed the hem of + his sleeve, invited him in and offered him refreshments. + </p> + <p> + Saint Michael drank a bowl of milk and then began: “I have come here + to propose to you a good bargain.” + </p> + <p> + The devil, candid and trustful, answered: “That will suit me.” + </p> + <p> + “Here it is. Give me all your lands.” + </p> + <p> + Satan, growing alarmed, wished to speak “But—” + </p> + <p> + The saint continued: “Listen first. Give me all your lands. I will + take care of all the work, the ploughing, the sowing, the fertilizing, + everything, and we will share the crops equally. How does that suit you?” + </p> + <p> + The devil, who was naturally lazy, accepted. He only demanded in addition + a few of those delicious gray mullet which are caught around the solitary + mount. Saint Michael promised the fish. + </p> + <p> + They grasped hands and spat on the ground to show that it was a bargain, + and the saint continued: “See here, so that you will have nothing to + complain of, choose that part of the crops which you prefer: the part that + grows above ground or the part that stays in the ground.” Satan + cried out: “I will take all that will be above ground.” + </p> + <p> + “It's a bargain!” said the saint. And he went away. + </p> + <p> + Six months later, all over the immense domain of the devil, one could see + nothing but carrots, turnips, onions, salsify, all the plants whose juicy + roots are good and savory and whose useless leaves are good for nothing + but for feeding animals. + </p> + <p> + Satan wished to break the contract, calling Saint Michael a swindler. + </p> + <p> + But the saint, who had developed quite a taste for agriculture, went back + to see the devil and said: + </p> + <p> + “Really, I hadn't thought of that at all; it was just an accident, + no fault of mine. And to make things fair with you, this year I'll let you + take everything that is under the ground.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well,” answered Satan. + </p> + <p> + The following spring all the evil spirit's lands were covered with golden + wheat, oats as big as beans, flax, magnificent colza, red clover, peas, + cabbage, artichokes, everything that develops into grains or fruit in the + sunlight. + </p> + <p> + Once more Satan received nothing, and this time he completely lost his + temper. He took back his fields and remained deaf to all the fresh + propositions of his neighbor. + </p> + <p> + A whole year rolled by. From the top of his lonely manor Saint Michael + looked at the distant and fertile lands and watched the devil direct the + work, take in his crops and thresh the wheat. And he grew angry, + exasperated at his powerlessness. + </p> + <p> + As he was no longer able to deceive Satan, he decided to wreak vengeance + on him, and he went out to invite him to dinner for the following Monday. + </p> + <p> + “You have been very unfortunate in your dealings with me,” he + said; “I know it, but I don't want any ill feeling between us, and I + expect you to dine with me. I'll give you some good things to eat.” + </p> + <p> + Satan, who was as greedy as he was lazy, accepted eagerly. On the day + appointed he donned his finest clothes and set out for the castle. + </p> + <p> + Saint Michael sat him down to a magnificent meal. First there was a + 'vol-au-vent', full of cocks' crests and kidneys, with meat-balls, then + two big gray mullet with cream sauce, a turkey stuffed with chestnuts + soaked in wine, some salt-marsh lamb as tender as cake, vegetables which + melted in the mouth and nice hot pancake which was brought on smoking and + spreading a delicious odor of butter. + </p> + <p> + They drank new, sweet, sparkling cider and heady red wine, and after each + course they whetted their appetites with some old apple brandy. + </p> + <p> + The devil drank and ate to his heart's content; in fact he took so much + that he was very uncomfortable, and began to retch. + </p> + <p> + Then Saint Michael arose in anger and cried in a voice like thunder: + “What! before me, rascal! You dare—before me—” + </p> + <p> + Satan, terrified, ran away, and the saint, seizing a stick, pursued him. + They ran through the halls, turning round the pillars, running up the + staircases, galloping along the cornices, jumping from gargoyle to + gargoyle. The poor devil, who was woefully ill, was running about madly + and trying hard to escape. At last he found himself at the top of the last + terrace, right at the top, from which could be seen the immense bay, with + its distant towns, sands and pastures. He could no longer escape, and the + saint came up behind him and gave him a furious kick, which shot him + through space like a cannonball. + </p> + <p> + He shot through the air like a javelin and fell heavily before the town of + Mortain. His horns and claws stuck deep into the rock, which keeps through + eternity the traces of this fall of Satan. + </p> + <p> + He stood up again, limping, crippled until the end of time, and as he + looked at this fatal castle in the distance, standing out against the + setting sun, he understood well that he would always be vanquished in this + unequal struggle, and he went away limping, heading for distant countries, + leaving to his enemy his fields, his hills, his valleys and his marshes. + </p> + <p> + And this is how Saint Michael, the patron saint of Normandy, vanquished + the devil. + </p> + <p> + Another people would have dreamed of this battle in an entirely different + manner. + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0102"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + A NEW YEAR'S GIFT + </h2> + <p> + Jacques de Randal, having dined at home alone, told his valet he might go + out, and he sat down at his table to write some letters. + </p> + <p> + He ended every year in this manner, writing and dreaming. He reviewed the + events of his life since last New Year's Day, things that were now all + over and dead; and, in proportion as the faces of his friends rose up + before his eyes, he wrote them a few lines, a cordial New Year's greeting + on the first of January. + </p> + <p> + So he sat down, opened a drawer, took out of it a woman's photograph, + gazed at it a few moments, and kissed it. Then, having laid it beside a + sheet of notepaper, he began: + </p> +<div class='pre'> + “MY DEAR IRENE: You must by this time have received the little + souvenir I sent you addressed to the maid. I have shut myself up + this evening in order to tell you——” + </div> + <p> + The pen here ceased to move. Jacques rose up and began walking up and down + the room. + </p> + <p> + For the last ten months he had had a sweetheart, not like the others, a + woman with whom one engages in a passing intrigue, of the theatrical world + or the demi-monde, but a woman whom he loved and won. He was no longer a + young man, although he was still comparatively young for a man, and he + looked on life seriously in a positive and practical spirit. + </p> + <p> + Accordingly, he drew up the balance sheet of his passion, as he drew up + every year the balance sheet of friendships that were ended or freshly + contracted, of circumstances and persons that had entered into his life. + </p> + <p> + His first ardor of love having grown calmer, he asked himself with the + precision of a merchant making a calculation what was the state of his + heart with regard to her, and he tried to form an idea of what it would be + in the future. + </p> + <p> + He found there a great and deep affection; made up of tenderness, + gratitude and the thousand subtleties which give birth to long and + powerful attachments. + </p> + <p> + A ring at the bell made him start. He hesitated. Should he open the door? + But he said to himself that one must always open the door on New Year's + night, to admit the unknown who is passing by and knocks, no matter who it + may be. + </p> + <p> + So he took a wax candle, passed through the antechamber, drew back the + bolts, turned the key, pulled the door back, and saw his sweetheart + standing pale as a corpse, leaning against the wall. + </p> + <p> + He stammered: + </p> + <p> + “What is the matter with you?” + </p> + <p> + She replied: + </p> + <p> + “Are you alone?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Without servants?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “You are not going out?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + She entered with the air of a woman who knew the house. As soon as she was + in the drawing-room, she sank down on the sofa, and, covering her face + with her hands, began to weep bitterly. + </p> + <p> + He knelt down at her feet, and tried to remove her hands from her eyes, so + that he might look at them, and exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “Irene, Irene, what is the matter with you? I implore you to tell me + what is the matter with you?” + </p> + <p> + Then, amid her sobs, she murmured: + </p> + <p> + “I can no longer live like this.” + </p> + <p> + “Live like this? What do you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. I can no longer live like this. I have endured so much. He + struck me this afternoon.” + </p> + <p> + “Who? Your husband?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, my husband.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” + </p> + <p> + He was astonished, having never suspected that her husband could be + brutal. He was a man of the world, of the better class, a clubman, a lover + of horses, a theatergoer and an expert swordsman; he was known, talked + about, appreciated everywhere, having very courteous manners, a very + mediocre intellect, an absence of education and of the real culture needed + in order to think like all well-bred people, and finally a respect for + conventionalities. + </p> + <p> + He appeared to devote himself to his wife, as a man ought to do in the + case of wealthy and well-bred people. He displayed enough of anxiety about + her wishes, her health, her dresses, and, beyond that, left her perfectly + free. + </p> + <p> + Randal, having become Irene's friend, had a right to the affectionate + hand-clasp which every husband endowed with good manners owes to his + wife's intimate acquaintance. Then, when Jacques, after having been for + some time the friend, became the lover, his relations with the husband + were more cordial, as is fitting. + </p> + <p> + Jacques had never dreamed that there were storms in this household, and he + was bewildered at this unexpected revelation. + </p> + <p> + He asked: + </p> + <p> + “How did it happen? Tell me.” + </p> + <p> + Thereupon she related a long story, the entire history of her life since + the day of her marriage, the first disagreement arising out of a mere + nothing, then becoming accentuated at every new difference of opinion + between two dissimilar dispositions. + </p> + <p> + Then came quarrels, a complete separation, not apparent, but real; next, + her husband showed himself aggressive, suspicious, violent. Now, he was + jealous, jealous of Jacques, and that very day, after a scene, he had + struck her. + </p> + <p> + She added with decision: “I will not go back to him. Do with me what + you like.” + </p> + <p> + Jacques sat down opposite to her, their knees touching. He took her hands: + </p> + <p> + “My dear love, you are going to commit a gross, an irreparable + folly. If you want to leave your husband, put him in the wrong, so that + your position as a woman of the world may be saved.” + </p> + <p> + She asked, as she looked at him uneasily: + </p> + <p> + “Then, what do you advise me?” + </p> + <p> + “To go back home and to put up with your life there till the day + when you can obtain either a separation or a divorce, with the honors of + war.” + </p> + <p> + “Is not this thing which you advise me to do a little cowardly?” + </p> + <p> + “No; it is wise and sensible. You have a high position, a reputation + to protect, friends to preserve and relations to deal with. You must not + lose all these through a mere caprice.” + </p> + <p> + She rose up, and said with violence: + </p> + <p> + “Well, no! I cannot stand it any longer! It is at an end! it is at + an end!” + </p> + <p> + Then, placing her two hands on her lover's shoulders, and looking him + straight in the face, she asked: + </p> + <p> + “Do you love me?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Really and truly?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Then take care of me.” + </p> + <p> + He exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “Take care of you? In my own house? Here? Why, you are mad. It would + mean losing you forever; losing you beyond hope of recall! You are mad!” + </p> + <p> + She replied, slowly and seriously, like a woman who feels the weight of + her words: + </p> + <p> + “Listen, Jacques. He has forbidden me to see you again, and I will + not play this comedy of coming secretly to your house. You must either + lose me or take me.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear Irene, in that case, obtain your divorce, and I will marry + you.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, you will marry me in—two years at the soonest. Yours is + a patient love.” + </p> + <p> + “Look here! Reflect! If you remain here he'll come to-morrow to take + you away, seeing that he is your husband, seeing that he has right and law + on his side.” + </p> + <p> + “I did not ask you to keep me in your own house, Jacques, but to + take me anywhere you like. I thought you loved me enough to do that. I + have made a mistake. Good-by!” + </p> + <p> + She turned round and went toward the door so quickly that he was only able + to catch hold of her when she was outside the room: + </p> + <p> + “Listen, Irene.” + </p> + <p> + She struggled, and would not listen to him. Her eyes were full of tears, + and she stammered: + </p> + <p> + “Let me alone! let me alone! let me alone!” + </p> + <p> + He made her sit down by force, and once more falling on his knees at her + feet, he now brought forward a number of arguments and counsels to make + her understand the folly and terrible risk of her project. He omitted + nothing which he deemed necessary to convince her, finding even in his + very affection for her incentives to persuasion. + </p> + <p> + As she remained silent and cold as ice, he begged of her, implored of her + to listen to him, to trust him, to follow his advice. + </p> + <p> + When he had finished speaking, she only replied: + </p> + <p> + “Are you disposed to let me go away now? Take away your hands, so + that I may rise to my feet.” + </p> + <p> + “Look here, Irene.” + </p> + <p> + “Will you let me go?” + </p> + <p> + “Irene—is your resolution irrevocable?” + </p> + <p> + “Will you let me go.” + </p> + <p> + “Tell me only whether this resolution, this mad resolution of yours, + which you will bitterly regret, is irrevocable?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—let me go!” + </p> + <p> + “Then stay. You know well that you are at home here. We shall go + away to-morrow morning.” + </p> + <p> + She rose to her feet in spite of him, and said in a hard tone: + </p> + <p> + “No. It is too late. I do not want sacrifice; I do not want + devotion.” + </p> + <p> + “Stay! I have done what I ought to do; I have said what I ought to + say. I have no further responsibility on your behalf. My conscience is at + peace. Tell me what you want me to do, and I will obey.”' + </p> + <p> + She resumed her seat, looked at him for a long time, and then asked, in a + very calm voice: + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, explain.” + </p> + <p> + “Explain what? What do you wish me to explain?” + </p> + <p> + “Everything—everything that you thought about before changing + your mind. Then I will see what I ought to do.” + </p> + <p> + “But I thought about nothing at all. I had to warn you that you were + going to commit an act of folly. You persist; then I ask to share in this + act of folly, and I even insist on it.” + </p> + <p> + “It is not natural to change one's mind so quickly.” + </p> + <p> + “Listen, my dear love. It is not a question here of sacrifice or + devotion. On the day when I realized that I loved you, I said to myself + what every lover ought to say to himself in the same case: 'The man who + loves a woman, who makes an effort to win her, who gets her, and who takes + her, enters into a sacred contract with himself and with her. That is, of + course, in dealing with a woman like you, not a woman with a fickle heart + and easily impressed.' + </p> + <p> + “Marriage which has a great social value, a great legal value, + possesses in my eyes only a very slight moral value, taking into account + the conditions under which it generally takes place. + </p> + <p> + “Therefore, when a woman, united by this lawful bond, but having no + attachment to her husband, whom she cannot love, a woman whose heart is + free, meets a man whom she cares for, and gives herself to him, when a man + who has no other tie, takes a woman in this way, I say that they pledge + themselves toward each other by this mutual and free agreement much more + than by the 'Yes' uttered in the presence of the mayor. + </p> + <p> + “I say that, if they are both honorable persons, their union must be + more intimate, more real, more wholesome, than if all the sacraments had + consecrated it. + </p> + <p> + “This woman risks everything. And it is exactly because she knows + it, because she gives everything, her heart, her body, her soul, her + honor, her life, because she has foreseen all miseries, all dangers all + catastrophes, because she dares to do a bold act, an intrepid act, because + she is prepared, determined to brave everything—her husband, who + might kill her, and society, which may cast her out. This is why she is + worthy of respect in the midst of her conjugal infidelity; this is why her + lover, in taking her, should also foresee everything, and prefer her to + every one else whatever may happen. I have nothing more to say. I spoke in + the beginning like a sensible man whose duty it was to warn you; and now I + am only a man—a man who loves you—Command, and I obey.” + </p> + <p> + Radiant, she closed his mouth with a kiss, and said in a low tone: + </p> + <p> + “It is not true, darling! There is nothing the matter! My husband + does not suspect anything. But I wanted to see, I wanted to know, what you + would do. I wished for a New Year's gift—the gift of your heart—another + gift besides the necklace you sent me. You have given it to me. Thanks! + thanks! God be thanked for the happiness you have given me!” + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0103"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + FRIEND PATIENCE + </h2> + <div class='ph3'> + What became of Leremy?” + </div> + <p> + “He is captain in the Sixth Dragoons.” + </p> + <p> + “And Pinson?” + </p> + <p> + “He's a subprefect.” + </p> + <p> + “And Racollet?” + </p> + <p> + “Dead.” + </p> + <p> + We were searching for other names which would remind us of the youthful + faces of our younger days. Once in a while we had met some of these old + comrades, bearded, bald, married, fathers of several children, and the + realization of these changes had given us an unpleasant shudder, reminding + us how short life is, how everything passes away, how everything changes. + My friend asked me: + </p> + <p> + “And Patience, fat Patience?” + </p> + <p> + I almost, howled: + </p> + <p> + “Oh! as for him, just listen to this. Four or five years ago I was + in Limoges, on a tour of inspection, and I was waiting for dinner time. I + was seated before the big cafe in the Place du Theatre, just bored to + death. The tradespeople were coming by twos, threes or fours, to take + their absinthe or vermouth, talking all the time of their own or other + people's business, laughing loudly, or lowering their voices in order to + impart some important or delicate piece of news. + </p> + <p> + “I was saying to myself: 'What shall I do after dinner?' And I + thought of the long evening in this provincial town, of the slow, dreary + walk through unknown streets, of the impression of deadly gloom which + these provincial people produce on the lonely traveller, and of the whole + oppressive atmosphere of the place. + </p> + <p> + “I was thinking of all these things as I watched the little jets of + gas flare up, feeling my loneliness increase with the falling shadows. + </p> + <p> + “A big, fat man sat down at the next table and called in a + stentorian voice: + </p> + <p> + “'Waiter, my bitters!' + </p> + <p> + “The 'my' came out like the report of a cannon. I immediately + understood that everything was his in life, and not another's; that he had + his nature, by Jove, his appetite, his trousers, his everything, his, more + absolutely and more completely than anyone else's. Then he looked round + him with a satisfied air. His bitters were brought, and he ordered: + </p> + <p> + “'My newspaper!' + </p> + <p> + “I wondered: 'Which newspaper can his be?' The title would certainly + reveal to me his opinions, his theories, his principles, his hobbies, his + weaknesses. + </p> + <p> + “The waiter brought the Temps. I was surprised. Why the Temps, a + serious, sombre, doctrinaire, impartial sheet? I thought: + </p> + <p> + “'He must be a serious man with settled and regular habits; in + short, a good bourgeois.' + </p> + <p> + “He put on his gold-rimmed spectacles, leaned back before beginning + to read, and once more glanced about him. He noticed me, and immediately + began to stare at me in an annoying manner. I was even going to ask the + reason for this attention, when he exclaimed from his seat: + </p> + <p> + “'Well, by all that's holy, if this isn't Gontran Lardois.' + </p> + <p> + “I answered: + </p> + <p> + “'Yes, monsieur, you are not mistaken.' + </p> + <p> + “Then he quickly rose and came toward me with hands outstretched: + </p> + <p> + “'Well, old man, how are you?' + </p> + <p> + “As I did not recognize him at all I was greatly embarrassed. I + stammered: + </p> + <p> + “'Why-very well-and-you?' + </p> + <p> + “He began to laugh “'I bet you don't recognize me.' + </p> + <p> + “'No, not exactly. It seems—however—' + </p> + <p> + “He slapped me on the back: + </p> + <p> + “'Come on, no joking! I am Patience, Robert Patience, your friend, + your chum.' + </p> + <p> + “I recognized him. Yes, Robert Patience, my old college chum. It was + he. I took his outstretched hand: + </p> + <p> + “'And how are you?' + </p> + <p> + “'Fine!' + </p> + <p> + “His smile was like a paean of victory. + </p> + <p> + “He asked: + </p> + <p> + “'What are you doing here?' + </p> + <p> + “I explained that I was government inspector of taxes. + </p> + <p> + “He continued, pointing to my red ribbon: + </p> + <p> + “'Then you have-been a success?' + </p> + <p> + “I answered: + </p> + <p> + “'Fairly so. And you?' + </p> + <p> + “'I am doing well!' + </p> + <p> + “'What are you doing?' + </p> + <p> + “'I'm in business.' + </p> + <p> + “'Making money?' + </p> + <p> + “'Heaps. I'm very rich. But come around to lunch, to-morrow noon, 17 + Rue du Coq-qui-Chante; you will see my place.' + </p> + <p> + “He seemed to hesitate a second, then continued: + </p> + <p> + “'Are you still the good sport that you used to be?' + </p> + <p> + “'I—I hope so.' + </p> + <p> + “'Not married?' + </p> + <p> + “'No.' + </p> + <p> + “'Good. And do you still love a good time and potatoes?' + </p> + <p> + “I was beginning to find him hopelessly vulgar. Nevertheless, I + answered “'Yes.' + </p> + <p> + “'And pretty girls?' + </p> + <p> + “'Most assuredly.' + </p> + <p> + “He began to laugh good-humoredly. + </p> + <p> + “'Good, good! Do you remember our first escapade, in Bordeaux, after + that dinner at Routie's? What a spree!' + </p> + <p> + “I did, indeed, remember that spree; and the recollection of it + cheered me up. This called to mind other pranks. He would say: + </p> + <p> + “'Say, do you remember the time when we locked the proctor up in old + man Latoque's cellar?' + </p> + <p> + “And he laughed and banged the table with his fist, and then he + continued: + </p> + <p> + “'Yes-yes-yes-and do you remember the face of the geography teacher, + M. Marin, the day we set off a firecracker in the globe, just as he was + haranguing about the principal volcanoes of the earth?' + </p> + <p> + “Then suddenly I asked him: + </p> + <p> + “'And you, are you married?' + </p> + <p> + “He exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “'Ten years, my boy, and I have four children, remarkable + youngsters; but you'll see them and their mother.' + </p> + <p> + “We were talking rather loud; the people around us looked at us in + surprise. + </p> + <p> + “Suddenly my friend looked at his watch, a chronometer the size of a + pumpkin, and he cried: + </p> + <p> + “'Thunder! I'm sorry, but I'll have to leave you; I am never free at + night.' + </p> + <p> + “He rose, took both my hands, shook them as though he were trying to + wrench my arms from their sockets, and exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “'So long, then; till to-morrow noon!' + </p> + <p> + “'So long!' + </p> + <p> + “I spent the morning working in the office of the collector-general + of the Department. The chief wished me to stay to luncheon, but I told him + that I had an engagement with a friend. As he had to go out, he + accompanied me. + </p> + <p> + “I asked him: + </p> + <p> + “'Can you tell me how I can find the Rue du Coq-qui-Chante?' + </p> + <p> + “He answered: + </p> + <p> + “'Yes, it's only five minutes' walk from here. As I have nothing + special to do, I will take you there.' + </p> + <p> + “We started out and soon found ourselves there. It was a wide, + fine-looking street, on the outskirts of the town. I looked at the houses + and I noticed No. 17. It was a large house with a garden behind it. The + facade, decorated with frescoes, in the Italian style, appeared to me as + being in bad taste. There were goddesses holding vases, others swathed in + clouds. Two stone cupids supported the number of the house. + </p> + <p> + “I said to the treasurer: + </p> + <p> + “'Here is where I am going.' + </p> + <p> + “I held my hand out to him. He made a quick, strange gesture, said + nothing and shook my hand. + </p> + <p> + “I rang. A maid appeared. I asked: + </p> + <p> + “'Monsieur Patience, if you please?' + </p> + <p> + “She answered: + </p> + <p> + “'Right here, sir. Is it to monsieur that you wish to speak?' + </p> + <p> + “'Yes.' + </p> + <p> + “The hall was decorated with paintings from the brush of some local + artist. Pauls and Virginias were kissing each other under palm trees + bathed in a pink light. A hideous Oriental lantern was ranging from the + ceiling. Several doors were concealed by bright hangings. + </p> + <p> + “But what struck me especially was the odor. It was a sickening and + perfumed odor, reminding one of rice powder and the mouldy smell of a + cellar. An indefinable odor in a heavy atmosphere as oppressive as that of + public baths. I followed the maid up a marble stairway, covered with a + green, Oriental carpet, and was ushered into a sumptubus parlor. + </p> + <p> + “Left alone, I looked about me. + </p> + <p> + “The room was richly furnished, but in the pretentious taste of a + parvenu. Rather fine engravings of the last century represented women with + powdered hair dressed high surprised by gentlemen in interesting + positions. Another lady, lying in a large bed, was teasing with her foot a + little dog, lost in the sheets. One drawing showed four feet, bodies + concealed behind a curtain. The large room, surrounded by soft couches, + was entirely impregnated with that enervating and insipid odor which I had + already noticed. There seemed to be something suspicious about the walls, + the hangings, the exaggerated luxury, everything. + </p> + <p> + “I approached the window to look into the garden. It was very big, + shady, beautiful. A wide path wound round a grass plot in the midst of + which was a fountain, entered a shrubbery and came out farther away. And, + suddenly, yonder, in the distance, between two clumps of bushes, three + women appeared. They were walking slowly, arm in arm, clad in long, white + tea-gowns covered with lace. Two were blondes and the other was + dark-haired. Almost immediately they disappeared again behind the trees. I + stood there entranced, delighted with this short and charming apparition, + which brought to my mind a whole world of poetry. They had scarcely + allowed themselves to be seen, in just the proper light, in that frame of + foliage, in the midst of that mysterious, delightful park. It seemed to me + that I had suddenly seen before me the great ladies of the last century, + who were depicted in the engravings on the wall. And I began to think of + the happy, joyous, witty and amorous times when manners were so graceful + and lips so approachable. + </p> + <p> + “A deep voice made me jump. Patience had come in, beaming, and held + out his hands to me. + </p> + <p> + “He looked into my eyes with the sly look which one takes when + divulging secrets of love, and, with a Napoleonic gesture, he showed me + his sumptuous parlor, his park, the three women, who had reappeared in the + back of it, then, in a triumphant voice, where the note of pride was + prominent, he said: + </p> + <p> + “'And to think that I began with nothing—my wife and my + sister-in-law!'” + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0104"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + ABANDONED + </h2> + <p> + “I really think you must be mad, my dear, to go for a country walk + in such weather as this. You have had some very strange notions for the + last two months. You drag me to the seaside in spite of myself, when you + have never once had such a whim during all the forty-four years that we + have been married. You chose Fecamp, which is a very dull town, without + consulting me in the matter, and now you are seized with such a rage for + walking, you who hardly ever stir out on foot, that you want to take a + country walk on the hottest day of the year. Ask d'Apreval to go with you, + as he is ready to gratify all your whims. As for me, I am going back to + have a nap.” + </p> + <p> + Madame de Cadour turned to her old friend and said: + </p> + <p> + “Will you come with me, Monsieur d'Apreval?” + </p> + <p> + He bowed with a smile, and with all the gallantry of former years: + </p> + <p> + “I will go wherever you go,” he replied. + </p> + <p> + “Very well, then, go and get a sunstroke,” Monsieur de Cadour + said; and he went back to the Hotel des Bains to lie down for an hour or + two. + </p> + <p> + As soon as they were alone, the old lady and her old companion set off, + and she said to him in a low voice, squeezing his hand: + </p> + <p> + “At last! at last!” + </p> + <p> + “You are mad,” he said in a whisper. “I assure you that + you are mad. Think of the risk you are running. If that man—” + </p> + <p> + She started. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! Henri, do not say that man, when you are speaking of him.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well,” he said abruptly, “if our son guesses + anything, if he has any suspicions, he will have you, he will have us both + in his power. You have got on without seeing him for the last forty years. + What is the matter with you to-day?” + </p> + <p> + They had been going up the long street that leads from the sea to the + town, and now they turned to the right, to go to Etretat. The white road + stretched in front of him, then under a blaze of brilliant sunshine, so + they went on slowly in the burning heat. She had taken her old friend's + arm, and was looking straight in front of her, with a fixed and haunted + gaze, and at last she said: + </p> + <p> + “And so you have not seen him again, either?” + </p> + <p> + “No, never.” + </p> + <p> + “Is it possible?” + </p> + <p> + “My dear friend, do not let us begin that discussion again. I have a + wife and children and you have a husband, so we both of us have much to + fear from other people's opinion.” + </p> + <p> + She did not reply; she was thinking of her long past youth and of many sad + things that had occurred. How well she recalled all the details of their + early friendship, his smiles, the way he used to linger, in order to watch + her until she was indoors. What happy days they were, the only really + delicious days she had ever enjoyed, and how quickly they were over! + </p> + <p> + And then—her discovery—of the penalty she paid! What anguish! + </p> + <p> + Of that journey to the South, that long journey, her sufferings, her + constant terror, that secluded life in the small, solitary house on the + shores of the Mediterranean, at the bottom of a garden, which she did not + venture to leave. How well she remembered those long days which she spent + lying under an orange tree, looking up at the round, red fruit, amid the + green leaves. How she used to long to go out, as far as the sea, whose + fresh breezes came to her over the wall, and whose small waves she could + hear lapping on the beach. She dreamed of its immense blue expanse + sparkling under the sun, with the white sails of the small vessels, and a + mountain on the horizon. But she did not dare to go outside the gate. + Suppose anybody had recognized her! + </p> + <p> + And those days of waiting, those last days of misery and expectation! The + impending suffering, and then that terrible night! What misery she had + endured, and what a night it was! How she had groaned and screamed! She + could still see the pale face of her lover, who kissed her hand every + moment, and the clean-shaven face of the doctor and the nurse's white cap. + </p> + <p> + And what she felt when she heard the child's feeble cries, that wail, that + first effort of a human's voice! + </p> + <p> + And the next day! the next day! the only day of her life on which she had + seen and kissed her son; for, from that time, she had never even caught a + glimpse of him. + </p> + <p> + And what a long, void existence hers had been since then, with the thought + of that child always, always floating before her. She had never seen her + son, that little creature that had been part of herself, even once since + then; they had taken him from her, carried him away, and had hidden him. + All she knew was that he had been brought up by some peasants in Normandy, + that he had become a peasant himself, had married well, and that his + father, whose name he did not know, had settled a handsome sum of money on + him. + </p> + <p> + How often during the last forty years had she wished to go and see him and + to embrace him! She could not imagine to herself that he had grown! She + always thought of that small human atom which she had held in her arms and + pressed to her bosom for a day. + </p> + <p> + How often she had said to M. d'Apreval: “I cannot bear it any + longer; I must go and see him.” + </p> + <p> + But he had always stopped her and kept her from going. She would be unable + to restrain and to master herself; their son would guess it and take + advantage of her, blackmail her; she would be lost. + </p> + <p> + “What is he like?” she said. + </p> + <p> + “I do not know. I have not seen him again, either.” + </p> + <p> + “Is it possible? To have a son and not to know him; to be afraid of + him and to reject him as if he were a disgrace! It is horrible.” + </p> + <p> + They went along the dusty road, overcome by the scorching sun, and + continually ascending that interminable hill. + </p> + <p> + “One might take it for a punishment,” she continued; “I + have never had another child, and I could no longer resist the longing to + see him, which has possessed me for forty years. You men cannot understand + that. You must remember that I shall not live much longer, and suppose I + should never see him, never have seen him! . . . Is it possible? How could + I wait so long? I have thought about him every day since, and what a + terrible existence mine has been! I have never awakened, never, do you + understand, without my first thoughts being of him, of my child. How is + he? Oh, how guilty I feel toward him! Ought one to fear what the world may + say in a case like this? I ought to have left everything to go after him, + to bring him up and to show my love for him. I should certainly have been + much happier, but I did not dare, I was a coward. How I have suffered! Oh, + how those poor, abandoned children must hate their mothers!” + </p> + <p> + She stopped suddenly, for she was choked by her sobs. The whole valley was + deserted and silent in the dazzling light and the overwhelming heat, and + only the grasshoppers uttered their shrill, continuous chirp among the + sparse yellow grass on both sides of the road. + </p> + <p> + “Sit down a little,” he said. + </p> + <p> + She allowed herself to be led to the side of the ditch and sank down with + her face in her hands. Her white hair, which hung in curls on both sides + of her face, had become tangled. She wept, overcome by profound grief, + while he stood facing her, uneasy and not knowing what to say, and he + merely murmured: “Come, take courage.” + </p> + <p> + She got up. + </p> + <p> + “I will,” she said, and wiping her eyes, she began to walk + again with the uncertain step of an elderly woman. + </p> + <p> + A little farther on the road passed beneath a clump of trees, which hid a + few houses, and they could distinguish the vibrating and regular blows of + a blacksmith's hammer on the anvil; and presently they saw a wagon + standing on the right side of the road in front of a low cottage, and two + men shoeing a horse under a shed. + </p> + <p> + Monsieur d'Apreval went up to them. + </p> + <p> + “Where is Pierre Benedict's farm?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Take the road to the left, close to the inn, and then go straight + on; it is the third house past Poret's. There is a small spruce fir close + to the gate; you cannot make a mistake.” + </p> + <p> + They turned to the left. She was walking very slowly now, her legs + threatened to give way, and her heart was beating so violently that she + felt as if she should suffocate, while at every step she murmured, as if + in prayer: + </p> + <p> + “Oh! Heaven! Heaven!” + </p> + <p> + Monsieur d'Apreval, who was also nervous and rather pale, said to her + somewhat gruffly: + </p> + <p> + “If you cannot manage to control your feelings, you will betray + yourself at once. Do try and restrain yourself.” + </p> + <p> + “How can I?” she replied. “My child! When I think that I + am going to see my child.” + </p> + <p> + They were going along one of those narrow country lanes between farmyards, + that are concealed beneath a double row of beech trees at either side of + the ditches, and suddenly they found themselves in front of a gate, beside + which there was a young spruce fir. + </p> + <p> + “This is it,” he said. + </p> + <p> + She stopped suddenly and looked about her. The courtyard, which was + planted with apple trees, was large and extended as far as the small + thatched dwelling house. On the opposite side were the stable, the barn, + the cow house and the poultry house, while the gig, the wagon and the + manure cart were under a slated outhouse. Four calves were grazing under + the shade of the trees and black hens were wandering all about the + enclosure. + </p> + <p> + All was perfectly still; the house door was open, but nobody was to be + seen, and so they went in, when immediately a large black dog came out of + a barrel that was standing under a pear tree, and began to bark furiously. + </p> + <p> + There were four bee-hives on boards against the wall of the house. + </p> + <p> + Monsieur d'Apreval stood outside and called out: + </p> + <p> + “Is anybody at home?” + </p> + <p> + Then a child appeared, a little girl of about ten, dressed in a chemise + and a linen, petticoat, with dirty, bare legs and a timid and cunning + look. She remained standing in the doorway, as if to prevent any one going + in. + </p> + <p> + “What do you want?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “Is your father in?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “Where is he?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know.” + </p> + <p> + “And your mother?” + </p> + <p> + “Gone after the cows.” + </p> + <p> + “Will she be back soon?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know.” + </p> + <p> + Then suddenly the lady, as if she feared that her companion might force + her to return, said quickly: + </p> + <p> + “I shall not go without having seen him.” + </p> + <p> + “We will wait for him, my dear friend.” + </p> + <p> + As they turned away, they saw a peasant woman coming toward the house, + carrying two tin pails, which appeared to be heavy and which glistened + brightly in the sunlight. + </p> + <p> + She limped with her right leg, and in her brown knitted jacket, that was + faded by the sun and washed out by the rain, she looked like a poor, + wretched, dirty servant. + </p> + <p> + “Here is mamma,” the child said. + </p> + <p> + When she got close to the house, she looked at the strangers angrily and + suspiciously, and then she went in, as if she had not seen them. She + looked old and had a hard, yellow, wrinkled face, one of those wooden + faces that country people so often have. + </p> + <p> + Monsieur d'Apreval called her back. + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon, madame, but we came in to know whether you could + sell us two glasses of milk.” + </p> + <p> + She was grumbling when she reappeared in the door, after putting down her + pails. + </p> + <p> + “I don't sell milk,” she replied. + </p> + <p> + “We are very thirsty,” he said, “and madame is very + tired. Can we not get something to drink?” + </p> + <p> + The peasant woman gave them an uneasy and cunning glance and then she made + up her mind. + </p> + <p> + “As you are here, I will give you some,” she said, going into + the house, and almost immediately the child came out and brought two + chairs, which she placed under an apple tree, and then the mother, in + turn, brought out two bowls of foaming milk, which she gave to the + visitors. She did not return to the house, however, but remained standing + near them, as if to watch them and to find out for what purpose they had + come there. + </p> + <p> + “You have come from Fecamp?” she said. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” Monsieur d'Apreval replied, “we are staying at + Fecamp for the summer.” + </p> + <p> + And then, after a short silence, he continued: + </p> + <p> + “Have you any fowls you could sell us every week?” + </p> + <p> + The woman hesitated for a moment and then replied: + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I think I have. I suppose you want young ones?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, of course.” + </p> + <p> + “'What do you pay for them in the market?” + </p> + <p> + D'Apreval, who had not the least idea, turned to his companion: + </p> + <p> + “What are you paying for poultry in Fecamp, my dear lady?” + </p> + <p> + “Four francs and four francs fifty centimes,” she said, her + eyes full of tears, while the farmer's wife, who was looking at her + askance, asked in much surprise: + </p> + <p> + “Is the lady ill, as she is crying?” + </p> + <p> + He did not know what to say, and replied with some hesitation: + </p> + <p> + “No—no—but she lost her watch as we came along, a very + handsome watch, and that troubles her. If anybody should find it, please + let us know.” + </p> + <p> + Mother Benedict did not reply, as she thought it a very equivocal sort of + answer, but suddenly she exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “Oh, here is my husband!” + </p> + <p> + She was the only one who had seen him, as she was facing the gate. + D'Apreval started and Madame de Cadour nearly fell as she turned round + suddenly on her chair. + </p> + <p> + A man bent nearly double, and out of breath, stood there, ten-yards from + them, dragging a cow at the end of a rope. Without taking any notice of + the visitors, he said: + </p> + <p> + “Confound it! What a brute!” + </p> + <p> + And he went past them and disappeared in the cow house. + </p> + <p> + Her tears had dried quickly as she sat there startled, without a word and + with the one thought in her mind, that this was her son, and D'Apreval, + whom the same thought had struck very unpleasantly, said in an agitated + voice: + </p> + <p> + “Is this Monsieur Benedict?” + </p> + <p> + “Who told you his name?” the wife asked, still rather + suspiciously. + </p> + <p> + “The blacksmith at the corner of the highroad,” he replied, + and then they were all silent, with their eyes fixed on the door of the + cow house, which formed a sort of black hole in the wall of the building. + Nothing could be seen inside, but they heard a vague noise, movements and + footsteps and the sound of hoofs, which were deadened by the straw on the + floor, and soon the man reappeared in the door, wiping his forehead, and + came toward the house with long, slow strides. He passed the strangers + without seeming to notice them and said to his wife: + </p> + <p> + “Go and draw me a jug of cider; I am very thirsty.” + </p> + <p> + Then he went back into the house, while his wife went into the cellar and + left the two Parisians alone. + </p> + <p> + “Let us go, let us go, Henri,” Madame de Cadour said, nearly + distracted with grief, and so d'Apreval took her by the arm, helped her to + rise, and sustaining her with all his strength, for he felt that she was + nearly fainting, he led her out, after throwing five francs on one of the + chairs. + </p> + <p> + As soon as they were outside the gate, she began to sob and said, shaking + with grief: + </p> + <p> + “Oh! oh! is that what you have made of him?” + </p> + <p> + He was very pale and replied coldly: + </p> + <p> + “I did what I could. His farm is worth eighty thousand francs, and + that is more than most of the sons of the middle classes have.” + </p> + <p> + They returned slowly, without speaking a word. She was still crying; the + tears ran down her cheeks continually for a time, but by degrees they + stopped, and they went back to Fecamp, where they found Monsieur de Cadour + waiting dinner for them. As soon as he saw them, he began to laugh and + exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “So my wife has had a sunstroke, and I am very glad of it. I really + think she has lost her head for some time past!” + </p> + <p> + Neither of them replied, and when the husband asked them, rubbing his + hands: + </p> + <p> + “Well, I hope that, at least, you have had a pleasant walk?” + </p> + <p> + Monsieur d'Apreval replied: + </p> + <p> + “A delightful walk, I assure you; perfectly delightful.” + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0105"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + THE MAISON TELLIER + </h2> + <p> + They went there every evening about eleven o'clock, just as they would go + to the club. Six or eight of them; always the same set, not fast men, but + respectable tradesmen, and young men in government or some other employ, + and they would drink their Chartreuse, and laugh with the girls, or else + talk seriously with Madame Tellier, whom everybody respected, and then + they would go home at twelve o'clock! The younger men would sometimes stay + later. + </p> + <p> + It was a small, comfortable house painted yellow, at the corner of a + street behind Saint Etienne's Church, and from the windows one could see + the docks full of ships being unloaded, the big salt marsh, and, rising + beyond it, the Virgin's Hill with its old gray chapel. + </p> + <p> + Madame Tellier, who came of a respectable family of peasant proprietors in + the Department of the Eure, had taken up her profession, just as she would + have become a milliner or dressmaker. The prejudice which is so violent + and deeply rooted in large towns, does not exist in the country places in + Normandy. The peasant says: + </p> + <p> + “It is a paying-business,” and he sends his daughter to keep + an establishment of this character just as he would send her to keep a + girls' school. + </p> + <p> + She had inherited the house from an old uncle, to whom it had belonged. + Monsieur and Madame Tellier, who had formerly been innkeepers near Yvetot, + had immediately sold their house, as they thought that the business at + Fecamp was more profitable, and they arrived one fine morning to assume + the direction of the enterprise, which was declining on account of the + absence of the proprietors. They were good people enough in their way, and + soon made themselves liked by their staff and their neighbors. + </p> + <p> + Monsieur died of apoplexy two years later, for as the new place kept him + in idleness and without any exercise, he had grown excessively stout, and + his health had suffered. Since she had been a widow, all the frequenters + of the establishment made much of her; but people said that, personally, + she was quite virtuous, and even the girls in the house could not discover + anything against her. She was tall, stout and affable, and her complexion, + which had become pale in the dimness of her house, the shutters of which + were scarcely ever opened, shone as if it had been varnished. She had a + fringe of curly false hair, which gave her a juvenile look, that + contrasted strongly with the ripeness of her figure. She was always + smiling and cheerful, and was fond of a joke, but there was a shade of + reserve about her, which her occupation had not quite made her lose. + Coarse words always shocked her, and when any young fellow who had been + badly brought up called her establishment a hard name, she was angry and + disgusted. + </p> + <p> + In a word, she had a refined mind, and although she treated her women as + friends, yet she very frequently used to say that “she and they were + not made of the same stuff.” + </p> + <p> + Sometimes during the week she would hire a carriage and take some of her + girls into the country, where they used to enjoy themselves on the grass + by the side of the little river. They were like a lot of girls let out + from school, and would run races and play childish games. They had a cold + dinner on the grass, and drank cider, and went home at night with a + delicious feeling of fatigue, and in the carriage they kissed Madame' + Tellier as their kind mother, who was full of goodness and complaisance. + </p> + <p> + The house had two entrances. At the corner there was a sort of tap-room, + which sailors and the lower orders frequented at night, and she had two + girls whose special duty it was to wait on them with the assistance of + Frederic, a short, light-haired, beardless fellow, as strong as a horse. + They set the half bottles of wine and the jugs of beer on the shaky marble + tables before the customers, and then urged the men to drink. + </p> + <p> + The three other girls—there were only five of them—formed a + kind of aristocracy, and they remained with the company on the first + floor, unless they were wanted downstairs and there was nobody on the + first floor. The salon de Jupiter, where the tradesmen used to meet, was + papered in blue, and embellished with a large drawing representing Leda + and the swan. The room was reached by a winding staircase, through a + narrow door opening on the street, and above this door a lantern inclosed + in wire, such as one still sees in some towns, at the foot of the shrine + of some saint, burned all night long. + </p> + <p> + The house, which was old and damp, smelled slightly of mildew. At times + there was an odor of eau de Cologne in the passages, or sometimes from a + half-open door downstairs the noisy mirth of the common men sitting and + drinking rose to the first floor, much to the disgust of the gentlemen who + were there. Madame Tellier, who was on friendly terms with her customers, + did not leave the room, and took much interest in what was going on in the + town, and they regularly told her all the news. Her serious conversation + was a change from the ceaseless chatter of the three women; it was a rest + from the obscene jokes of those stout individuals who every evening + indulged in the commonplace debauchery of drinking a glass of liqueur in + company with common women. + </p> + <p> + The names of the girls on the first floor were Fernande, Raphaele, and + Rosa, the Jade. As the staff was limited, madame had endeavored that each + member of it should be a pattern, an epitome of the feminine type, so that + every customer might find as nearly as possible the realization of his + ideal. Fernande represented the handsome blonde; she was very tall, rather + fat, and lazy; a country girl, who could not get rid of her freckles, and + whose short, light, almost colorless, tow-like hair, like combed-out hemp, + barely covered her head. + </p> + <p> + Raphaele, who came from Marseilles, played the indispensable part of the + handsome Jewess, and was thin, with high cheekbones, which were covered + with rouge, and black hair covered with pomatum, which curled on her + forehead. Her eyes would have been handsome, if the right one had not had + a speck in it. Her Roman nose came down over a square jaw, where two false + upper teeth contrasted strangely with the bad color of the rest. + </p> + <p> + Rosa was a little roll of fat, nearly all body, with very short legs, and + from morning till night she sang songs, which were alternately risque or + sentimental, in a harsh voice; told silly, interminable tales, and only + stopped talking in order to eat, and left off eating in order to talk; she + was never still, and was active as a squirrel, in spite of her embonpoint + and her short legs; her laugh, which was a torrent of shrill cries, + resounded here and there, ceaselessly, in a bedroom, in the loft, in the + cafe, everywhere, and all about nothing. + </p> + <p> + The two women on the ground floor, Lodise, who was nicknamed La Cocotte, + and Flora, whom they called Balancoise, because she limped a little, the + former always dressed as the Goddess of Liberty, with a tri-colored sash, + and the other as a Spanish woman, with a string of copper coins in her + carroty hair, which jingled at every uneven step, looked like cooks + dressed up for the carnival. They were like all other women of the lower + orders, neither uglier nor better looking than they usually are. + </p> + <p> + They looked just like servants at an inn, and were generally called + “the two pumps.” + </p> + <p> + A jealous peace, which was, however, very rarely disturbed, reigned among + these five women, thanks to Madame Tellier's conciliatory wisdom, and to + her constant good humor, and the establishment, which was the only one of + the kind in the little town, was very much frequented. Madame Tellier had + succeeded in giving it such a respectable appearance, she was so amiable + and obliging to everybody, her good heart was so well known, that she was + treated with a certain amount of consideration. The regular customers + spent money on her, and were delighted when she was especially friendly + toward them, and when they met during the day, they would say: “Until + this evening, you know where,” just as men say: “At the club, + after dinner.” In a word, Madame Tellier's house was somewhere to go + to, and they very rarely missed their daily meetings there. + </p> + <p> + One evening toward the end of May, the first arrival, Monsieur Poulin, who + was a timber merchant, and had been mayor, found the door shut. The + lantern behind the grating was not alight; there was not a sound in the + house; everything seemed dead. He knocked, gently at first, but then more + loudly, but nobody answered the door. Then he went slowly up the street, + and when he got to the market place he met Monsieur Duvert, the gunmaker, + who was going to the same place, so they went back together, but did not + meet with any better success. But suddenly they heard a loud noise, close + to them, and on going round the house, they saw a number of English and + French sailors, who were hammering at the closed shutters of the taproom + with their fists. + </p> + <p> + The two tradesmen immediately made their escape, but a low “Pst!” + stopped them; it was Monsieur Tournevau, the fish curer, who had + recognized them, and was trying to attract their attention. They told him + what had happened, and he was all the more annoyed, as he was a married + man and father of a family, and only went on Saturdays. That was his + regular evening, and now he should be deprived of this dissipation for the + whole week. + </p> + <p> + The three men went as far as the quay together, and on the way they met + young Monsieur Philippe, the banker's son, who frequented the place + regularly, and Monsieur Pinipesse, the collector, and they all returned to + the Rue aux Juifs together, to make a last attempt. But the exasperated + sailors were besieging the house, throwing stones at the shutters, and + shouting, and the five first-floor customers went away as quickly as + possible, and walked aimlessly about the streets. + </p> + <p> + Presently they met Monsieur Dupuis, the insurance agent, and then Monsieur + Vasse, the Judge of the Tribunal of Commerce, and they took a long walk, + going to the pier first of all, where they sat down in a row on the + granite parapet and watched the rising tide, and when the promenaders had + sat there for some time, Monsieur Tournevau said: + </p> + <p> + “This is not very amusing!” + </p> + <p> + “Decidedly not,” Monsieur Pinipesse replied, and they started + off to walk again. + </p> + <p> + After going through the street alongside the hill, they returned over the + wooden bridge which crosses the Retenue, passed close to the railway, and + came out again on the market place, when, suddenly, a quarrel arose + between Monsieur Pinipesse, the collector, and Monsieur Tournevau about an + edible mushroom which one of them declared he had found in the + neighborhood. + </p> + <p> + As they were out of temper already from having nothing to do, they would + very probably have come to blows, if the others had not interfered. + Monsieur Pinipesse went off furious, and soon another altercation arose + between the ex-mayor, Monsieur Poulin, and Monsieur Dupuis, the insurance + agent, on the subject of the tax collector's salary and the profits which + he might make. Insulting remarks were freely passing between them, when a + torrent of formidable cries was heard, and the body of sailors, who were + tired of waiting so long outside a closed house, came into the square. + They were walking arm in arm, two and two, and formed a long procession, + and were shouting furiously. The townsmen hid themselves in a doorway, and + the yelling crew disappeared in the direction of the abbey. For a long + time they still heard the noise, which diminished like a storm in the + distance, and then silence was restored. Monsieur Poulin and Monsieur + Dupuis, who were angry with each other, went in different directions, + without wishing each other good-by. + </p> + <p> + The other four set off again, and instinctively went in the direction of + Madame Tellier's establishment, which was still closed, silent, + impenetrable. A quiet, but obstinate drunken man was knocking at the door + of the lower room, antd then stopped and called Frederic, in a low voice, + but finding that he got no answer, he sat down on the doorstep, and waited + the course of events. + </p> + <p> + The others were just going to retire, when the noisy band of sailors + reappeared at the end of the street. The French sailors were shouting the + “Marseillaise,” and the Englishmen “Rule Britannia.” + There was a general lurching against the wall, and then the drunken + fellows went on their way toward the quay, where a fight broke out between + the two nations, in the course of which an Englishman had his arm broken + and a Frenchman his nose split. + </p> + <p> + The drunken man who had waited outside the door, was crying by that time, + as drunken men and children cry when they are vexed, and the others went + away. By degrees, calm was restored in the noisy town; here and there, at + moments, the distant sound of voices could be heard, and then died away in + the distance. + </p> + <p> + One man only was still wandering about, Monsieur Tournevau, the fish + curer, who was annoyed at having to wait until the following Saturday, and + he hoped something would turn up, he did not know what; but he was + exasperated at the police for thus allowing an establishment of such + public utility, which they had under their control, to be closed. + </p> + <p> + He went back to it and examined the walls, trying to find out some reason, + and on the shutter he saw a notice stuck up. He struck a wax match and + read the following, in a large, uneven hand: “Closed on account of + the Confirmation.” + </p> + <p> + Then he went away, as he saw it was useless to remain, and left the + drunken man lying on the pavement fast asleep, outside that inhospitable + door. + </p> + <p> + The next day, all the regular customers, one after the other, found some + reason for going through the street, with a bundle of papers under their + arm to keep them in countenance, and with a furtive glance they all read + that mysterious notice: + </p> +<div class='pre'> + “Closed on account of the Confirmation.” + </div> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + PART II + </h2> + <p> + Madame Tellier had a brother, who was a carpenter in their native place, + Virville, in the Department of Eure. When she still kept the inn at + Yvetot, she had stood godmother to that brother's daughter, who had + received the name of Constance—Constance Rivet; she herself being a + Rivet on her father's side. The carpenter, who knew that his sister was in + a good position, did not lose sight of her, although they did not meet + often, for they were both kept at home by their occupations, and lived a + long way from each other. But as the girl was twelve years old, and going + to be confirmed, he seized that opportunity to write to his sister, asking + her to come and be present at the ceremony. Their old parents were dead, + and as she could not well refuse her goddaughter, she accepted the + invitation. Her brother, whose name was Joseph, hoped that by dint of + showing his sister attention, she might be induced to make her will in the + girl's favor, as she had no children of her own. + </p> + <p> + His sister's occupation did not trouble his scruples in the least, and, + besides, nobody knew anything about it at Virville. When they spoke of + her, they only said: “Madame Tellier is living at Fecamp,” + which might mean that she was living on her own private income. It was + quite twenty leagues from Fecamp to Virville, and for a peasant, twenty + leagues on land is as long a journey as crossing the ocean would be to + city people. The people at Virville had never been further than Rouen, and + nothing attracted the people from Fecamp to a village of five hundred + houses in the middle of a plain, and situated in another department; at + any rate, nothing was known about her business. + </p> + <p> + But the Confirmation was coming on, and Madame Tellier was in great + embarrassment. She had no substitute, and did not at all care to leave her + house, even for a day; for all the rivalries between the girls upstairs + and those downstairs would infallibly break out. No doubt Frederic would + get drunk, and when he was in that state, he would knock anybody down for + a mere word. At last, however, she made up her mind to take them all with + her, with the exception of the man, to whom she gave a holiday until the + next day but one. + </p> + <p> + When she asked her brother, he made no objection, but undertook to put + them all up for a night, and so on Saturday morning the eight-o'clock + express carried off Madame Tellier and her companions in a second-class + carriage. As far as Beuzeville they were alone, and chattered like + magpies, but at that station a couple got in. The man, an old peasant, + dressed in a blue blouse with a turned-down collar, wide sleeves tight at + the wrist, ornamented with white embroidery, wearing an old high hat with + long nap, held an enormous green umbrella in one hand, and a large basket + in the other, from which the heads of three frightened ducks protruded. + The woman, who sat up stiffly in her rustic finery, had a face like a + fowl, with a nose that was as pointed as a bill. She sat down opposite her + husband and did not stir, as she was startled at finding herself in such + smart company. + </p> + <p> + There was certainly an array of striking colors in the carriage. Madame + Tellier was dressed in blue silk from head to foot, and had on a dazzling + red imitation French cashmere shawl. Fernande was puffing in a Scotch + plaid dress, of which her companions had laced the bodice as tight as they + could, forcing up her full bust, that was continually heaving up and down. + Raphaele, with a bonnet covered with feathers, so that it looked like a + bird's nest, had on a lilac dress with gold spots on it, and there was + something Oriental about it that suited her Jewish face. Rosa had on a + pink skirt with largo flounces, and looked like a very fat child, an obese + dwarf; while the two Pumps looked as if they had cut their dresses out of + old flowered curtains dating from the Restoration. + </p> + <p> + As soon as they were no longer alone in the compartment, the ladies put on + staid looks, and began to talk of subjects which might give others a high + opinion of them. But at Bolbeck a gentleman with light whiskers, a gold + chain, and wearing two or three rings, got in, and put several parcels + wrapped in oilcloth on the rack over his head. He looked inclined for a + joke, and seemed a good-hearted fellow. + </p> + <p> + “Are you ladies changing your quarters?” he said, and that + question embarrassed them all considerably. Madame Tellier, however, + quickly regained her composure, and said sharply, to avenge the honor of + her corps: + </p> + <p> + “I think you might try and be polite!” + </p> + <p> + He excused himself, and said: “I beg your pardon, I ought to have + said your nunnery.” + </p> + <p> + She could not think of a retort, so, perhaps thinking she had said enough, + madame gave him a dignified bow and compressed her lips. + </p> + <p> + Then the gentleman, who was sitting between Rosa and the old peasant, + began to wink knowingly at the ducks whose heads were sticking out of the + basket, and when he felt that he had fixed the attention of his public, he + began to tickle them under the bills and spoke funnily to them to make the + company smile. + </p> + <p> + “We have left our little pond, quack! quack! to make the + acquaintance of the little spit, qu-ack! qu-ack!” + </p> + <p> + The unfortunate creatures turned their necks away, to avoid his caresses, + and made desperate efforts to get out of their wicker prison, and then, + suddenly, all at once, uttered the most lamentable quacks of distress. The + women exploded with laughter. They leaned forward and pushed each other, + so as to see better; they were very much interested in the ducks, and the + gentleman redoubled his airs, his wit and his teasing. + </p> + <p> + Rosa joined in, and leaning over her neighbor's legs, she kissed the three + animals on the head, and immediately all the girls wanted to kiss them, in + turn, and as they did so the gentleman took them on his knee, jumped them + up and down and pinched their arms. The two peasants, who were even in + greater consternation than their poultry, rolled their eyes as if they + were possessed, without venturing to move, and their old wrinkled faces + had not a smile, not a twitch. + </p> + <p> + Then the gentleman, who was a commercial traveller, offered the ladies + suspenders by way of a joke, and taking up one of his packages, he opened + it. It was a joke, for the parcel contained garters. There were blue silk, + pink silk, red silk, violet silk, mauve silk garters, and the buckles were + made of two gilt metal cupids embracing each other. The girls uttered + exclamations of delight and looked at them with that gravity natural to + all women when they are considering an article of dress. They consulted + one another by their looks or in a whisper, and replied in the same + manner, and Madame Tellier was longingly handling a pair of orange garters + that were broader and more imposing looking than the rest; really fit for + the mistress of such an establishment. + </p> + <p> + The gentleman waited, for he had an idea. + </p> + <p> + “Come, my kittens,” he said, “you must try them on.” + </p> + <p> + There was a torrent of exclamations, and they squeezed their petticoats + between their legs, but he quietly waited his time and said: “Well, + if you will not try them on I shall pack them up again.” + </p> + <p> + And he added cunningly: “I offer any pair they like to those who + will try them on.” + </p> + <p> + But they would not, and sat up very straight and looked dignified. + </p> + <p> + But the two Pumps looked so distressed that he renewed his offer to them, + and Flora, especially, visibly hesitated, and he insisted: “Come, my + dear, a little courage! Just look at that lilac pair; it will suit your + dress admirably.” + </p> + <p> + That decided her, and pulling up her dress she showed a thick leg fit for + a milkmaid, in a badly fitting, coarse stocking. The commercial traveller + stooped down and fastened the garter. When he had done this, he gave her + the lilac pair and asked: “Who next?” + </p> + <p> + “I! I!” they all shouted at once, and he began on Rosa, who + uncovered a shapeless, round thing without any ankle, a regular “sausage + of a leg,” as Raphaele used to say. + </p> + <p> + Lastly, Madame Tellier herself put out her leg, a handsome, muscular + Norman leg, and in his surprise and pleasure, the commercial traveller + gallantly took off his hat to salute that master calf, like a true French + cavalier. + </p> + <p> + The two peasants, who were speechless from surprise, glanced sideways out + of the corner of one eye, and they looked so exactly like fowls that the + man with the light whiskers, when he sat up, said: “Co—co—ri—co” + under their very noses, and that gave rise to another storm of amusement. + </p> + <p> + The old people got out at Motteville with their basket, their ducks and + their umbrella, and they heard the woman say to her husband as they went + away: + </p> + <p> + “They are no good and are off to that cursed place, Paris.” + </p> + <p> + The funny commercial traveller himself got out at Rouen, after behaving so + coarsely that Madame Tellier was obliged sharply to put him in his right + place, and she added, as a moral: “This will teach us not to talk to + the first comer.” + </p> + <p> + At Oissel they changed trains, and at a little station further on Monsieur + Joseph Rivet was waiting for them with a large cart with a number of + chairs in it, drawn by a white horse. + </p> + <p> + The carpenter politely kissed all the ladies and then helped them into his + conveyance. + </p> + <p> + Three of them sat on three chairs at the back, Raphaele, Madame Tellier + and her brother on the three chairs in front, while Rosa, who had no seat, + settled herself as comfortably as she could on tall Fernande's knees, and + then they set off. + </p> + <p> + But the horse's jerky trot shook the cart so terribly that the chairs + began to dance and threw the travellers about, to the right and to the + left, as if they were dancing puppets, which made them scream and make + horrible grimaces. + </p> + <p> + They clung on to the sides of the vehicle, their bonnets fell on their + backs, over their faces and on their shoulders, and the white horse went + on stretching out his head and holding out his little hairless tail like a + rat's, with which he whisked his buttocks from time to time. + </p> + <p> + Joseph Rivet, with one leg on the shafts and the other doubled under him, + held the reins with his elbows very high, and kept uttering a kind of + clucking sound, which made the horse prick up its ears and go faster. + </p> + <p> + The green country extended on either side of the road, and here and there + the colza in flower presented a waving expanse of yellow, from which arose + a strong, wholesome, sweet and penetrating odor, which the wind carried to + some distance. + </p> + <p> + The cornflowers showed their little blue heads amid the rye, and the women + wanted to pick them, but Monsieur Rivet refused to stop. + </p> + <p> + Then, sometimes, a whole field appeared to be covered with blood, so thick + were the poppies, and the cart, which looked as if it were filled with + flowers of more brilliant hue, jogged on through fields bright with wild + flowers, and disappeared behind the trees of a farm, only to reappear and + to go on again through the yellow or green standing crops, which were + studded with red or blue. + </p> + <p> + One o'clock struck as they drove up to the carpenter's door. They were + tired out and pale with hunger, as they had eaten nothing since they left + home. Madame Rivet ran out and made them alight, one after another, and + kissed them as soon as they were on the ground, and she seemed as if she + would never tire of kissing her sister-in-law, whom she apparently wanted + to monopolize. They had lunch in the workshop, which had been cleared out + for the next day's dinner. + </p> + <p> + The capital omelet, followed by boiled chitterlings and washed down with + good hard cider, made them all feel comfortable. + </p> + <p> + Rivet had taken a glass so that he might drink with them, and his wife + cooked, waited on them, brought in the dishes, took them out and asked + each of them in a whisper whether they had everything they wanted. A + number of boards standing against the walls and heaps of shavings that had + been swept into the corners gave out a smell of planed wood, a smell of a + carpenter's shop, that resinous odor which penetrates to the lungs. + </p> + <p> + They wanted to see the little girl, but she had gone to church and would + not be back again until evening, so they all went out for a stroll in the + country. + </p> + <p> + It was a small village, through which the highroad passed. Ten or a dozen + houses on either side of the single street were inhabited by the butcher, + the grocer, the carpenter, the innkeeper, the shoemaker and the baker. + </p> + <p> + The church was at the end of the street and was surrounded by a small + churchyard, and four immense lime-trees, which stood just outside the + porch, shaded it completely. It was built of flint, in no particular + style, and had a slate-roofed steeple. When you got past it, you were + again in the open country, which was varied here and there by clumps of + trees which hid the homesteads. + </p> + <p> + Rivet had given his arm to his sister, out of politeness, although he was + in his working clothes, and was walking with her in a dignified manner. + His wife, who was overwhelmed by Raphaele's gold-striped dress, walked + between her and Fernande, and roly-poly Rosa was trotting behind with + Louise and Flora, the Seesaw, who was limping along, quite tired out. + </p> + <p> + The inhabitants came to their doors, the children left off playing, and a + window curtain would be raised, so as to show a muslin cap, while an old + woman with a crutch, who was almost blind, crossed herself as if it were a + religious procession, and they all gazed for a long time at those handsome + ladies from town, who had come so far to be present at the confirmation of + Joseph Rivet's little girl, and the carpenter rose very much in the public + estimation. + </p> + <p> + As they passed the church they heard some children singing. Little shrill + voices were singing a hymn, but Madame Tellier would not let them go in, + for fear of disturbing the little cherubs. + </p> + <p> + After the walk, during which Joseph Rivet enumerated the principal landed + proprietors, spoke about the yield of the land and the productiveness of + the cows and sheep, he took his tribe of women home and installed them in + his house, and as it was very small, they had to put them into the rooms, + two and two. + </p> + <p> + Just for once Rivet would sleep in the workshop on the shavings; his wife + was to share her bed with her sister-in-law, and Fernande and Raphaele + were to sleep together in the next room. Louise and Flora were put into + the kitchen, where they had a mattress on the floor, and Rosa had a little + dark cupboard to herself at the top of the stairs, close to the loft, + where the candidate for confirmation was to sleep. + </p> + <p> + When the little girl came in she was overwhelmed with kisses; all the + women wished to caress her with that need of tender expansion, that habit + of professional affection which had made them kiss the ducks in the + railway carriage. + </p> + <p> + They each of them took her on their knees, stroked her soft, light hair + and pressed her in their arms with vehement and spontaneous outbursts of + affection, and the child, who was very good and religious, bore it all + patiently. + </p> + <p> + As the day had been a fatiguing one for everybody, they all went to bed + soon after dinner. The whole village was wrapped in that perfect stillness + of the country, which is almost like a religious silence, and the girls, + who were accustomed to the noisy evenings of their establishment, felt + rather impressed by the perfect repose of the sleeping village, and they + shivered, not with cold, but with those little shivers of loneliness which + come over uneasy and troubled hearts. + </p> + <p> + As soon as they were in bed, two and two together, they clasped each other + in their arms, as if to protect themselves against this feeling of the + calm and profound slumber of the earth. But Rosa, who was alone in her + little dark cupboard, felt a vague and painful emotion come over her. + </p> + <p> + She was tossing about in bed, unable to get to sleep, when she heard the + faint sobs of a crying child close to her head, through the partition. She + was frightened, and called out, and was answered by a weak voice, broken + by sobs. It was the little girl, who was always used to sleeping in her + mother's room, and who was afraid in her small attic. + </p> + <p> + Rosa was delighted, got up softly so as not to awaken any one, and went + and fetched the child. She took her into her warm bed, kissed her and + pressed her to her bosom, lavished exaggerated manifestations of + tenderness on her, and at last grew calmer herself and went to sleep. And + till morning the candidate for confirmation slept with her head on Rosa's + bosom. + </p> + <p> + At five o'clock the little church bell, ringing the Angelus, woke the + women, who usually slept the whole morning long. + </p> + <p> + The villagers were up already, and the women went busily from house to + house, carefully bringing short, starched muslin dresses or very long wax + tapers tied in the middle with a bow of silk fringed with gold, and with + dents in the wax for the fingers. + </p> + <p> + The sun was already high in the blue sky, which still had a rosy tint + toward the horizon, like a faint remaining trace of dawn. Families of + fowls were walking about outside the houses, and here and there a black + cock, with a glistening breast, raised his head, which was crowned by his + red comb, flapped his wings and uttered his shrill crow, which the other + cocks repeated. + </p> + <p> + Vehicles of all sorts came from neighboring parishes, stopping at the + different houses, and tall Norman women dismounted, wearing dark dresses, + with kerchiefs crossed over the bosom, fastened with silver brooches a + hundred years old. + </p> + <p> + The men had put on their blue smocks over their new frock-coats or over + their old dress-coats of green-cloth, the two tails of which hung down + below their blouses. When the horses were in the stable there was a double + line of rustic conveyances along the road: carts, cabriolets, tilburies, + wagonettes, traps of every shape and age, tipping forward on their shafts + or else tipping backward with the shafts up in the air. + </p> + <p> + The carpenter's house was as busy as a bee-hive. The women, in + dressing-jackets and petticoats, with their thin, short hair, which looked + faded and worn, hanging down their backs, were busy dressing the child, + who was standing quietly on a table, while Madame Tellier was directing + the movements of her battalion. They washed her, did her hair, dressed + her, and with the help of a number of pins, they arranged the folds of her + dress and took in the waist, which was too large. + </p> + <p> + Then, when she was ready, she was told to sit down and not to move, and + the women hurried off to get ready themselves. + </p> + <p> + The church bell began to ring again, and its tinkle was lost in the air, + like a feeble voice which is soon drowned in space. The candidates came + out of the houses and went toward the parochial building, which contained + the two schools and the mansion house, and which stood quite at one end of + the village, while the church was situated at the other. + </p> + <p> + The parents, in their very best clothes, followed their children, with + embarrassed looks, and those clumsy movements of a body bent by toil. + </p> + <p> + The little girls disappeared in a cloud of muslin, which looked like + whipped cream, while the lads, who looked like embryo waiters in a cafe + and whose heads shone with pomatum, walked with their legs apart, so as + not to get any dust or dirt on their black trousers. + </p> + <p> + It was something for a family, to be proud of, when a large number of + relatives, who had come from a distance, surrounded the child, and the + carpenter's triumph was complete. + </p> + <p> + Madame Tellier's regiment, with its leader at its head, followed + Constance; her father gave his arm to his sister, her mother walked by the + side of Raphaele, Fernande with Rosa and Louise and Flora together, and + thus they proceeded majestically through the village, like a general's + staff in full uniform, while the effect on the village was startling. + </p> + <p> + At the school the girls ranged themselves under the Sister of Mercy and + the boys under the schoolmaster, and they started off, singing a hymn as + they went. The boys led the way, in two files, between the two rows of + vehicles, from which the horses had been taken out, and the girls followed + in the same order; and as all the people in the village had given the town + ladies the precedence out of politeness, they came immediately behind the + girls, and lengthened the double line of the procession still more, three + on the right and three on the left, while their dresses were as striking + as a display of fireworks. + </p> + <p> + When they went into the church the congregation grew quite excited. They + pressed against each other, turned round and jostled one another in order + to see, and some of the devout ones spoke almost aloud, for they were so + astonished at the sight of those ladies whose dresses were more elaborate + than the priest's vestments. + </p> + <p> + The mayor offered them his pew, the first one on the right, close to the + choir, and Madame Tellier sat there with her sister-in-law, Fernande and + Raphaele. Rosa, Louise and Flora occupied the second seat, in company with + the carpenter. + </p> + <p> + The choir was full of kneeling children, the girls on one side and the + boys on the other, and the long wax tapers which they held looked like + lances pointing in all directions, and three men were standing in front of + the lectern, singing as loud as they could. + </p> + <p> + They prolonged the syllables of the sonorous Latin indefinitely, holding + on to “Amens” with interminable “a-a's,” which the + reed stop of the organ sustained in a monotonous, long-drawn-out tone. + </p> + <p> + A child's shrill voice took up the reply, and from time to time a priest + sitting in a stall and wearing a biretta got up, muttered something and + sat down again, while the three singers continued, their eyes fixed on the + big book of plain chant lying open before them on the outstretched wings + of a wooden eagle. + </p> + <p> + Then silence ensued and the service went on. Toward the close Rosa, with + her head in both hands, suddenly thought of her mother, her village church + and her first communion. She almost fancied that that day had returned, + when she was so small and was almost hidden in her white dress, and she + began to cry. + </p> + <p> + First of all she wept silently, and the tears dropped slowly from her + eyes, but her emotion in creased with her recollections, and she began to + sob. She took out her pocket handkerchief, wiped her eyes and held it to + her mouth, so as not to scream, but it was in vain. A sort of rattle + escaped her throat, and she was answered by two other profound, + heartbreaking sobs, for her two neighbors, Louise and Flora, who were + kneeling near her, overcome by similar recollections, were sobbing by her + side, amid a flood of tears; and as tears are contagious, Madame Tellier + soon in turn found that her eyes were wet, and on turning to her + sister-in-law, she saw that all the occupants of her seat were also + crying. + </p> + <p> + Soon, throughout the church, here and there, a wife, a mother, a sister, + seized by the strange sympathy of poignant emotion, and affected at the + sight of those handsome ladies on their knees, shaken with sobs was + moistening her cambric pocket handkerchief and pressing her beating heart + with her left hand. + </p> + <p> + Just as the sparks from an engine will set fire to dry grass, so the tears + of Rosa and of her companions infected the whole congregation in a moment. + Men, women, old men and lads in new smocks were soon all sobbing, and + something superhuman seemed to be hovering over their heads—a + spirit, the powerful breath of an invisible and all powerful Being. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly a species of madness seemed to pervade the church, the noise of a + crowd in a state of frenzy, a tempest of sobs and stifled cries. It came + like gusts of wind which blow the trees in a forest, and the priest, + paralyzed by emotion, stammered out incoherent prayers, without finding + words, ardent prayers of the soul soaring to heaven. + </p> + <p> + The people behind him gradually grew calmer. The cantors, in all the + dignity of their white surplices, went on in somewhat uncertain voices, + and the reed stop itself seemed hoarse, as if the instrument had been + weeping; the priest, however, raised his hand to command silence and went + and stood on the chancel steps, when everybody was silent at once. + </p> + <p> + After a few remarks on what had just taken place, and which he attributed + to a miracle, he continued, turning to the seats where the carpenter's + guests were sitting; “I especially thank you, my dear sisters, who + have come from such a distance, and whose presence among us, whose evident + faith and ardent piety have set such a salutary example to all. You have + edified my parish; your emotion has warmed all hearts; without you, this + great day would not, perhaps, have had this really divine character. It is + sufficient, at times, that there should be one chosen lamb, for the Lord + to descend on His flock.” + </p> + <p> + His voice failed him again, from emotion, and he said no more, but + concluded the service. + </p> + <p> + They now left the church as quickly as possible; the children themselves + were restless and tired with such a prolonged tension of the mind. The + parents left the church by degrees to see about dinner. + </p> + <p> + There was a crowd outside, a noisy crowd, a babel of loud voices, where + the shrill Norman accent was discernible. The villagers formed two ranks, + and when the children appeared, each family took possession of their own. + </p> + <p> + The whole houseful of women caught hold of Constance, surrounded her and + kissed her, and Rosa was especially demonstrative. At last she took hold + of one hand, while Madame Tellier took the other, and Raphaele and + Fernande held up her long muslin skirt, so that it might not drag in the + dust; Louise and Flora brought up the rear with Madame Rivet; and the + child, who was very silent and thoughtful, set off for home in the midst + of this guard of honor. + </p> + <p> + Dinner was served in the workshop on long boards supported by trestles, + and through the open door they could see all the enjoyment that was going + on in the village. Everywhere they were feasting, and through every window + were to be seen tables surrounded by people in their Sunday best, and a + cheerful noise was heard in every house, while the men sat in their + shirt-sleeves, drinking glass after glass of cider. + </p> + <p> + In the carpenter's house the gaiety maintained somewhat of an air of + reserve, the consequence of the emotion of the girls in the morning, and + Rivet was the only one who was in a jolly mood, and he was drinking to + excess. Madame Tellier looked at the clock every moment, for, in order not + to lose two days running, they must take the 3:55 train, which would bring + them to Fecamp by dark. + </p> + <p> + The carpenter tried very hard to distract her attention, so as to keep his + guests until the next day, but he did not succeed, for she never joked + when there was business on hand, and as soon as they had had their coffee + she ordered her girls to make haste and get ready, and then, turning to + her brother, she said: + </p> + <p> + “You must put in the horse immediately,” and she herself went + to finish her last preparations. + </p> + <p> + When she came down again, her sister-in-law was waiting to speak to her + about the child, and a long conversation took place, in which, however, + nothing was settled. The carpenter's wife was artful and pretended to be + very much affected, and Madame Tellier, who was holding the girl on her + knee, would not pledge herself to anything definite, but merely gave vague + promises—she would not forget her, there was plenty of time, and + besides, they would meet again. + </p> + <p> + But the conveyance did not come to the door and the women did not come + downstairs. Upstairs they even heard loud laughter, romping, little + screams, and much clapping of hands, and so, while the carpenter's wife + went to the stable to see whether the cart was ready, madame went + upstairs. + </p> + <p> + Rivet, who was very drunk, was plaguing Rosa, who was half choking with + laughter. Louise and Flora were holding him by the arms and trying to calm + him, as they were shocked at his levity after that morning's ceremony; but + Raphaele and Fernande were urging him on, writhing and holding their sides + with laughter, and they uttered shrill cries at every rebuff the drunken + fellow received. + </p> + <p> + The man was furious, his face was red, and he was trying to shake off the + two women who were clinging to him, while he was pulling Rosa's skirt with + all his might and stammering incoherently. + </p> + <p> + But Madame Tellier, who was very indignant, went up to her brother, seized + him by the shoulders, and threw him out of the room with such violence + that he fell against the wall in the passage, and a minute afterward they + heard him pumping water on his head in the yard, and when he reappeared + with the cart he was quite calm. + </p> + <p> + They started off in the same way as they had come the day before, and the + little white horse started off with his quick, dancing trot. Under the hot + sun, their fun, which had been checked during dinner, broke out again. The + girls now were amused at the jolting of the cart, pushed their neighbors' + chairs, and burst out laughing every moment. + </p> + <p> + There was a glare of light over the country, which dazzled their eyes, and + the wheels raised two trails of dust along the highroad. Presently, + Fernande, who was fond of music, asked Rosa to sing something, and she + boldly struck up the “Gros Cure de Meudon,” but Madame Tellier + made her stop immediately, as she thought it a very unsuitable song for + such a day, and she added: + </p> + <p> + “Sing us something of Beranger's.” And so, after a moment's + hesitation, Rosa began Beranger's song “The Grandmother” in + her worn-out voice, and all the girls, and even Madame Tellier herself, + joined in the chorus: + </p> +<div class='pre'> + “How I regret + My dimpled arms, + My nimble legs, + And vanished charms.” + </div> + <p> + “That is first rate,” Rivet declared, carried away by the + rhythm, and they shouted the refrain to every verse, while Rivet beat time + on the shaft with his foot, and with the reins on the back of the horse, + who, as if he himself were carried away by the rhythm, broke into a wild + gallop, and threw all the women in a heap, one on top of the other, on the + bottom of the conveyance. + </p> + <p> + They got up, laughing as if they were mad, and the Gong went on, shouted + at the top of their voices, beneath the burning sky, among the ripening + grain, to the rapid gallop of the little horse, who set off every time the + refrain was sung, and galloped a hundred yards, to their great delight, + while occasionally a stone-breaker by the roadside sat up and looked at + the load of shouting females through his wire spectacles. + </p> + <p> + When they got out at the station, the carpenter said: + </p> + <p> + “I am sorry you are going; we might have had some good times + together.” But Madame Tellier replied very sensibly: “Everything + has its right time, and we cannot always be enjoying ourselves.” And + then he had a sudden inspiration: + </p> + <p> + “Look here, I will come and see you at Fecamp next month.” And + he gave Rosa a roguish and knowing look. + </p> + <p> + “Come,” his sister replied, “you must be sensible; you + may come if you like, but you are not to be up to any of your tricks.” + </p> + <p> + He did not reply, and as they heard the whistle of the train, he + immediately began to kiss them all. When it came to Rosa's turn, he tried + to get to her mouth, which she, however, smiling with her lips closed, + turned away from him each time by a rapid movement of her head to one + side. He held her in his arms, but he could not attain his object, as his + large whip, which he was holding in his hand and waving behind the girl's + back in desperation, interfered with his movements. + </p> + <p> + “Passengers for Rouen, take your seats!” a guard cried, and + they got in. There was a slight whistle, followed by a loud whistle from + the engine, which noisily puffed out its first jet of steam, while the + wheels began to turn a little with a visible effort, and Rivet left the + station and ran along by the track to get another look at Rosa, and as the + carriage passed him, he began to crack his whip and to jump, while he sang + at the top of his voice: + </p> +<div class='pre'> + “How I regret + My dimpled arms, + My nimble legs, + And vanished charms.” + </div> + <p> + And then he watched a white pocket-handkerchief, which somebody was + waving, as it disappeared in the distance. + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + PART III + </h2> + <p> + They slept the peaceful sleep of a quiet conscience, until they got to + Rouen, and when they returned to the house, refreshed and rested, Madame + Tellier could not help saying: + </p> + <p> + “It was all very well, but I was longing to get home.” + </p> + <p> + They hurried over their supper, and then, when they had put on their usual + evening costume, waited for their regular customers, and the little + colored lamp outside the door told the passers-by that Madame Tellier had + returned, and in a moment the news spread, nobody knew how or through + whom. + </p> + <p> + Monsieur Philippe, the banker's son, even carried his friendliness so far + as to send a special messenger to Monsieur Tournevau, who was in the bosom + of his family. + </p> + <p> + The fish curer had several cousins to dinner every Sunday, and they were + having coffee, when a man came in with a letter in his hand. Monsieur + Tournevau was much excited; he opened the envelope and grew pale; it + contained only these words in pencil: + </p> + <p> + “The cargo of cod has been found; the ship has come into port; good + business for you. Come immediately.” + </p> + <p> + He felt in his pockets, gave the messenger two sons, and suddenly blushing + to his ears, he said: “I must go out.” He handed his wife the + laconic and mysterious note, rang the bell, and when the servant came in, + he asked her to bring him has hat and overcoat immediately. As soon as he + was in the street, he began to hurry, and the way seemed to him to be + twice as long as usual, in consequence of his impatience. + </p> + <p> + Madame Tellier's establishment had put on quite a holiday look. On the + ground floor, a number of sailors were making a deafening noise, and + Louise and Flora drank with one and the other, and were being called for + in every direction at once. + </p> + <p> + The upstairs room was full by nine o'clock. Monsieur Vasse, the Judge of + the Tribunal of Commerce, Madame Tellier's regular but Platonic wooer, was + talking to her in a corner in a low voice, and they were both smiling, as + if they were about to come to an understanding. + </p> + <p> + Monsieur Poulin, the ex-mayor, was talking to Rosa, and she was running + her hands through the old gentleman's white whiskers. + </p> + <p> + Tall Fernande was on the sofa, her feet on the coat of Monsieur Pinipesse, + the tax collector, and leaning back against young Monsieur Philippe, her + right arm around his neck, while she held a cigarette in her left hand. + </p> + <p> + Raphaele appeared to be talking seriously with Monsieur Dupuis, the + insurance agent, and she finished by saying: “Yes, I will, yes.” + </p> + <p> + Just then, the door opened suddenly, and Monsieur Tournevau came in, and + was greeted with enthusiastic cries of “Long live Tournevau!” + And Raphaele, who was dancing alone up and down the room, went and threw + herself into his arms. He seized her in a vigorous embrace and, without + saying a word, lifted her up as if she had been a feather. + </p> + <p> + Rosa was chatting to the ex-mayor, kissing him and puffing; both his + whiskers at the same time, in order to keep his head straight. + </p> + <p> + Fernanad and Madame Tellier remained with the four men, and Monsieur + Philippe exclaimed: “I will pay for some champagne; get three + bottles, Madame Tellier.” And Fernande gave him a hug, and whispered + to him: “Play us a waltz, will you?” So he rose and sat down + at the old piano in the corner, and managed to get a hoarse waltz out of + the depths of the instrument. + </p> + <p> + The tall girl put her arms round the tax collector, Madame Tellier let + Monsieur Vasse take her round the waist, and the two couples turned round, + kissing as they danced. Monsieur Vasse, who had formerly danced in good + society, waltzed with such elegance that Madame Tellier was quite + captivated. + </p> + <p> + Frederic brought the champagne; the first cork popped, and Monsieur + Philippe played the introduction to a quadrille, through which the four + dancers walked in society fashion, decorously, with propriety, deportment, + bows and curtsies, and then they began to drink. + </p> + <p> + Monsieur Philippe next struck up a lively polka, and Monsieur Tournevau + started off with the handsome Jewess, whom he held without letting her + feet touch the ground. Monsieur Pinipesse and Monsieur Vasse had started + off with renewed vigor, and from time to time one or other couple would + stop to toss off a long draught of sparkling wine, and that dance was + threatening to become never-ending, when Rosa opened the door. + </p> + <p> + “I want to dance,” she exclaimed. And she caught hold of + Monsieur Dupuis, who was sitting idle on the couch, and the dance began + again. + </p> + <p> + But the bottles were empty. “I will pay for one,” Monsieur + Tournevau said. “So will I,” Monsieur Vasse declared. “And. + I will do the same,” Monsieur Dupuis remarked. + </p> + <p> + They all began to clap their hands, and it soon became a regular ball, and + from time to time Louise and Flora ran upstairs quickly and had a few + turns, while their customers downstairs grew impatient, and then they + returned regretfully to the tap-room. At midnight they were still dancing. + </p> + <p> + Madame Tellier let them amuse themselves while she had long private talks + in corners with Monsieur Vasse, as if to settle the last details of + something that had already been settled. + </p> + <p> + At last, at one o'clock, the two married men, Monsieur Tournevau and + Monsieur Pinipesse, declared that they were going home, and wanted to pay. + Nothing was charged for except the champagne, and that cost only six + francs a bottle, instead of ten, which was the usual price, and when they + expressed their surprise at such generosity, Madame Tellier, who was + beaming, said to them: + </p> + <p> + “We don't have a holiday every day.” + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0108"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + DENIS + </h2> +<div class='pre'> + To Leon Chapron. +</div> + <p> + Marambot opened the letter which his servant Denis gave him and smiled. + </p> + <p> + For twenty years Denis has been a servant in this house. He was a short, + stout, jovial man, who was known throughout the countryside as a model + servant. He asked: + </p> + <p> + “Is monsieur pleased? Has monsieur received good news?” + </p> + <p> + M. Marambot was not rich. He was an old village druggist, a bachelor, who + lived on an income acquired with difficulty by selling drugs to the + farmers. He answered: + </p> + <p> + “Yes, my boy. Old man Malois is afraid of the law-suit with which I + am threatening him. I shall get my money to-morrow. Five thousand francs + are not liable to harm the account of an old bachelor.” + </p> + <p> + M. Marambot rubbed his hands with satisfaction. He was a man of quiet + temperament, more sad than gay, incapable of any prolonged effort, + careless in business. + </p> + <p> + He could undoubtedly have amassed a greater income had he taken advantage + of the deaths of colleagues established in more important centers, by + taking their places and carrying on their business. But the trouble of + moving and the thought of all the preparations had always stopped him. + After thinking the matter over for a few days, he would be satisfied to + say: + </p> + <p> + “Bah! I'll wait until the next time. I'll not lose anything by the + delay. I may even find something better.” + </p> + <p> + Denis, on the contrary, was always urging his master to new enterprises. + Of an energetic temperament, he would continually repeat: + </p> + <p> + “Oh! If I had only had the capital to start out with, I could have + made a fortune! One thousand francs would do me.” + </p> + <p> + M. Marambot would smile without answering and would go out in his little + garden, where, his hands behind his back, he would walk about dreaming. + </p> + <p> + All day long, Denis sang the joyful refrains of the folk-songs of the + district. He even showed an unusual activity, for he cleaned all the + windows of the house, energetically rubbing the glass, and singing at the + top of his voice. + </p> + <p> + M. Marambot, surprised at his zeal, said to him several times, smiling: + </p> + <p> + “My boy, if you work like that there will be nothing left for you to + do to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + The following day, at about nine o'clock in the morning, the postman gave + Denis four letters for his master, one of them very heavy. M. Marambot + immediately shut himself up in his room until late in the afternoon. He + then handed his servant four letters for the mail. One of them was + addressed to M. Malois; it was undoubtedly a receipt for the money. + </p> + <p> + Denis asked his master no questions; he appeared to be as sad and gloomy + that day as he had seemed joyful the day before. + </p> + <p> + Night came. M. Marambot went to bed as usual and slept. + </p> + <p> + He was awakened by a strange noise. He sat up in his bed and listened. + Suddenly the door opened, and Denis appeared, holding in one hand a candle + and in the other a carving knife, his eyes staring, his face contracted as + though moved by some deep emotion; he was as pale as a ghost. + </p> + <p> + M. Marambot, astonished, thought that he was sleep-walking, and he was + going to get out of bed and assist him when the servant blew out the light + and rushed for the bed. His master stretched out his hands to receive the + shock which knocked him over on his back; he was trying to seize the hands + of his servant, whom he now thought to be crazy, in order to avoid the + blows which the latter was aiming at him. + </p> + <p> + He was struck by the knife; once in the shoulder, once in the forehead and + the third time in the chest. He fought wildly, waving his arms around in + the darkness, kicking and crying: + </p> + <p> + “Denis! Denis! Are you mad? Listen, Denis!” + </p> + <p> + But the latter, gasping for breath, kept up his furious attack always + striking, always repulsed, sometimes with a kick, sometimes with a punch, + and rushing forward again furiously. + </p> + <p> + M. Marambot was wounded twice more, once in the leg and once in the + stomach. But, suddenly, a thought flashed across his mind, and he began to + shriek: + </p> + <p> + “Stop, stop, Denis, I have not yet received my money!” + </p> + <p> + The man immediately ceased, and his master could hear his labored + breathing in the darkness. + </p> + <p> + M. Marambot then went on: + </p> + <p> + “I have received nothing. M. Malois takes back what he said, the + law-suit will take place; that is why you carried the letters to the mail. + Just read those on my desk.” + </p> + <p> + With a final effort, he reached for his matches and lit the candle. + </p> + <p> + He was covered with blood. His sheets, his curtains, and even the walls, + were spattered with red. Denis, standing in the middle of the room, was + also bloody from head to foot. + </p> + <p> + When he saw the blood, M. Marambot thought himself dead, and fell + unconscious. + </p> + <p> + At break of day he revived. It was some time, however, before he regained + his senses, and was able to understand or remember. But, suddenly, the + memory of the attack and of his wounds returned to him, and he was filled + with such terror that he closed his eyes in order not to see anything. + After a few minutes he grew calmer and began to think. He had not died + immediately, therefore he might still recover. He felt weak, very weak; + but he had no real pain, although he noticed an uncomfortable smarting + sensation in several parts of his body. He also felt icy cold, and all + wet, and as though wrapped up in bandages. He thought that this dampness + came from the blood which he had lost; and he shivered at the dreadful + thought of this red liquid which had come from his veins and covered his + bed. The idea of seeing this terrible spectacle again so upset him that he + kept his eyes closed with all his strength, as though they might open in + spite of himself. + </p> + <p> + What had become of Denis? He had probably escaped. + </p> + <p> + But what could he, Marambot, do now? Get up? Call for help? But if he + should make the slightest motions, his wounds would undoubtedly open up + again and he would die from loss of blood. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly he heard the door of his room open. His heart almost stopped. It + was certainly Denis who was coming to finish him up. He held his breath in + order to make the murderer think that he had been successful. + </p> + <p> + He felt his sheet being lifted up, and then someone feeling his stomach. A + sharp pain near his hip made him start. He was being very gently washed + with cold water. Therefore, someone must have discovered the misdeed and + he was being cared for. A wild joy seized him; but prudently, he did not + wish to show that he was conscious. He opened one eye, just one, with the + greatest precaution. + </p> + <p> + He recognized Denis standing beside him, Denis himself! Mercy! He hastily + closed his eye again. + </p> + <p> + Denis! What could he be doing? What did he want? What awful scheme could + he now be carrying out? + </p> + <p> + What was he doing? Well, he was washing him in order to hide the traces of + his crime! And he would now bury him in the garden, under ten feet of + earth, so that no one could discover him! Or perhaps under the wine + cellar! And M. Marambot began to tremble like a leaf. He kept saying to + himself: “I am lost, lost!” He closed his eyes so as not to + see the knife as it descended for the final stroke. It did not come. Denis + was now lifting him up and bandaging him. Then he began carefully to dress + the wound on his leg, as his master had taught him to do. + </p> + <p> + There was no longer any doubt. His servant, after wishing to kill him, was + trying to save him. + </p> + <p> + Then M. Marambot, in a dying voice, gave him the practical piece of + advice: + </p> + <p> + “Wash the wounds in a dilute solution of carbolic acid!” + </p> + <p> + Denis answered: + </p> + <p> + “This is what I am doing, monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + M. Marambot opened both his eyes. There was no sign of blood either on the + bed, on the walls, or on the murderer. The wounded man was stretched out + on clean white sheets. + </p> + <p> + The two men looked at each other. + </p> + <p> + Finally M. Marambot said calmly: + </p> + <p> + “You have been guilty of a great crime.” + </p> + <p> + Denis answered: + </p> + <p> + “I am trying to make up for it, monsieur. If you will not tell on + me, I will serve you as faithfully as in the past.” + </p> + <p> + This was no time to anger his servant. M. Marambot murmured as he closed + his eyes: + </p> + <p> + “I swear not to tell on you.” + </p> + <p> + Denis saved his master. He spent days and nights without sleep, never + leaving the sick room, preparing drugs, broths, potions, feeling his + pulse, anxiously counting the beats, attending him with the skill of a + trained nurse and the devotion of a son. + </p> + <p> + He continually asked: + </p> + <p> + “Well, monsieur, how do you feel?” + </p> + <p> + M. Marambot would answer in a weak voice: + </p> + <p> + “A little better, my boy, thank you.” + </p> + <p> + And when the sick man would wake up at night, he would often see his + servant seated in an armchair, weeping silently. + </p> + <p> + Never had the old druggist been so cared for, so fondled, so spoiled. At + first he had said to himself: + </p> + <p> + “As soon as I am well I shall get rid of this rascal.” + </p> + <p> + He was now convalescing, and from day to day he would put off dismissing + his murderer. He thought that no one would ever show him such care and + attention, for he held this man through fear; and he warned him that he + had left a document with a lawyer denouncing him to the law if any new + accident should occur. + </p> + <p> + This precaution seemed to guarantee him against any future attack; and he + then asked himself if it would not be wiser to keep this man near him, in + order to watch him closely. + </p> + <p> + Just as formerly, when he would hesitate about taking some larger place of + business, he could not make up his mind to any decision. + </p> + <p> + “There is always time,” he would say to himself. + </p> + <p> + Denis continued to show himself an admirable servant. M. Marambot was + well. He kept him. + </p> + <p> + One morning, just as he was finishing breakfast, he suddenly heard a great + noise in the kitchen. He hastened in there. Denis was struggling with two + gendarmes. An officer was taking notes on his pad. + </p> + <p> + As soon as he saw his master, the servant began to sob, exclaiming: + </p> + <p> + “You told on me, monsieur, that's not right, after what you had + promised me. You have broken your word of honor, Monsieur Marambot; that + is not right, that's not right!” + </p> + <p> + M. Marambot, bewildered and distressed at being suspected, lifted his + hand: + </p> + <p> + “I swear to you before the Lord, my boy that I did not tell on you. + I haven't the slightest idea how the police could have found out about + your attack on me.” + </p> + <p> + The officer started: + </p> + <p> + “You say that he attacked you, M. Marambot?” + </p> + <p> + The bewildered druggist answered: + </p> + <p> + “Yes—but I did not tell on him—I haven't said a word—I + swear it—he has served me excellently from that time on—” + </p> + <p> + The officer pronounced severely: + </p> + <p> + “I will take down your testimony. The law will take notice of this + new action, of which it was ignorant, Monsieur Marambot. I was + commissioned to arrest your servant for the theft of two ducks + surreptitiously taken by him from M. Duhamel of which act there are + witnesses. I shall make a note of your information.” + </p> + <p> + Then, turning toward his men, he ordered: + </p> + <p> + “Come on, bring him along!” + </p> + <p> + The two gendarmes dragged Denis out. + </p> + <p> + The lawyer used a plea of insanity, contrasting the two misdeeds in order + to strengthen his argument. He had clearly proved that the theft of the + two ducks came from the same mental condition as the eight knife-wounds in + the body of Maramlot. He had cunningly analyzed all the phases of this + transitory condition of mental aberration, which could, doubtless, be + cured by a few months' treatment in a reputable sanatorium. He had spoken + in enthusiastic terms of the continued devotion of this faithful servant, + of the care with which he had surrounded his master, wounded by him in a + moment of alienation. + </p> + <p> + Touched by this memory, M. Marambot felt the tears rising to his eyes. + </p> + <p> + The lawyer noticed it, opened his arms with a broad gesture, spreading out + the long black sleeves of his robe like the wings of a bat, and exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “Look, look, gentleman of the jury, look at those tears. What more + can I say for my client? What speech, what argument, what reasoning would + be worth these tears of his master? They, speak louder than I do, louder + than the law; they cry: 'Mercy, for the poor wandering mind of a while + ago! They implore, they pardon, they bless!” + </p> + <p> + He was silent and sat down. + </p> + <p> + Then the judge, turning to Marambot, whose testimony had been excellent + for his servant, asked him: + </p> + <p> + “But, monsieur, even admitting that you consider this man insane, + that does not explain why you should have kept him. He was none the less + dangerous.” + </p> + <p> + Marambot, wiping his eyes, answered: + </p> + <p> + “Well, your honor, what can you expect? Nowadays it's so hard to + find good servants—I could never have found a better one.” + </p> + <p> + Denis was acquitted and put in a sanatorium at his master's expense. + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0109"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + MY WIFE + </h2> + <p> + It had been a stag dinner. These men still came together once in a while + without their wives as they had done when they were bachelors. They would + eat for a long time, drink for a long time; they would talk of everything, + stir up those old and joyful memories which bring a smile to the lip and a + tremor to the heart. One of them was saying: “Georges, do you + remember our excursion to Saint-Germain with those two little girls from + Montmartre?” + </p> + <p> + “I should say I do!” + </p> + <p> + And a little detail here or there would be remembered, and all these + things brought joy to the hearts. + </p> + <p> + The conversation turned on marriage, and each one said with a sincere air: + “Oh, if it were to do over again!” Georges Duportin added: + “It's strange how easily one falls into it. You have fully decided + never to marry; and then, in the springtime, you go to the country; the + weather is warm; the summer is beautiful; the fields are full of flowers; + you meet a young girl at some friend's house—crash! all is over. You + return married!” + </p> + <p> + Pierre Letoile exclaimed: “Correct! that is exactly my case, only + there were some peculiar incidents—” + </p> + <p> + His friend interrupted him: “As for you, you have no cause to + complain. You have the most charming wife in the world, pretty, amiable, + perfect! You are undoubtedly the happiest one of us all.” + </p> + <p> + The other one continued: “It's not my fault.” + </p> + <p> + “How so?” + </p> + <p> + “It is true that I have a perfect wife, but I certainly married her + much against my will.” + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—this is the adventure. I was thirty-five, and I had no + more idea of marrying than I had of hanging myself. Young girls seemed to + me to be inane, and I loved pleasure. + </p> + <p> + “During the month of May I was invited to the wedding of my cousin, + Simon d'Erabel, in Normandy. It was a regular Normandy wedding. We sat + down at the table at five o'clock in the evening and at eleven o'clock we + were still eating. I had been paired off, for the occasion, with a + Mademoiselle Dumoulin, daughter of a retired colonel, a young, blond, + soldierly person, well formed, frank and talkative. She took complete + possession of me for the whole day, dragged me into the park, made me + dance willy-nilly, bored me to death. I said to myself: 'That's all very + well for to-day, but tomorrow I'll get out. That's all there is to it!' + </p> + <p> + “Toward eleven o'clock at night the women retired to their rooms; + the men stayed, smoking while they drank or drinking while they smoked, + whichever you will. + </p> + <p> + “Through the open window we could see the country folks dancing. + Farmers and peasant girls were jumping about in a circle yelling at the + top of their lungs a dance air which was feebly accompanied by two violins + and a clarinet. The wild song of the peasants often completely drowned the + sound of the instruments, and the weak music, interrupted by the + unrestrained voices, seemed to come to us in little fragments of scattered + notes. Two enormous casks, surrounded by flaming torches, contained drinks + for the crowd. Two men were kept busy rinsing the glasses or bowls in a + bucket and immediately holding them under the spigots, from which flowed + the red stream of wine or the golden stream of pure cider; and the parched + dancers, the old ones quietly, the girls panting, came up, stretched out + their arms and grasped some receptacle, threw back their heads and poured + down their throats the drink which they preferred. On a table were bread, + butter, cheese and sausages. Each one would step up from time to time and + swallow a mouthful, and under the starlit sky this healthy and violent + exercise was a pleasing sight, and made one also feel like drinking from + these enormous casks and eating the crisp bread and butter with a raw + onion. + </p> + <p> + “A mad desire seized me to take part in this merrymaking, and I left + my companions. I must admit that I was probably a little tipsy, but I was + soon entirely so. + </p> + <p> + “I grabbed the hand of a big, panting peasant woman and I jumped her + about until I was out of breath. + </p> + <p> + “Then I drank some wine and reached for another girl. In order to + refresh myself afterward, I swallowed a bowlful of cider, and I began to + bounce around as if possessed. + </p> + <p> + “I was very light on my feet. The boys, delighted, were watching me + and trying to imitate me; the girls all wished to dance with me, and + jumped about heavily with the grace of cows. + </p> + <p> + “After each dance I drank a glass of wine or a glass of cider, and + toward two o'clock in the morning I was so drunk that I could hardly stand + up. + </p> + <p> + “I realized my condition and tried to reach my room. Everybody was + asleep and the house was silent and dark. + </p> + <p> + “I had no matches and everybody was in bed. As soon as I reached the + vestibule I began to, feel dizzy. I had a lot of trouble to find the + banister. At last, by accident, my hand came in contact with it, and I sat + down on the first step of the stairs in order to try to gather my + scattered wits. + </p> + <p> + “My room was on the second floor; it was the third door to the left. + Fortunately I had not forgotten that. Armed with this knowledge, I arose, + not without difficulty, and I began to ascend, step by step. In my hands I + firmly gripped the iron railing in order not to fall, and took great pains + to make no noise. + </p> + <p> + “Only three or four times did my foot miss the steps, and I went + down on my knees; but thanks to the energy of my arms and the strength of + my will, I avoided falling completely. + </p> + <p> + “At last I reached the second floor and I set out in my journey + along the hall, feeling my way by the walls. I felt one door; I counted: + 'One'; but a sudden dizziness made me lose my hold on the wall, make a + strange turn and fall up against the other wall. I wished to turn in a + straight line: The crossing was long and full of hardships. At last I + reached the shore, and, prudently, I began to travel along again until I + met another door. In order to be sure to make no mistake, I again counted + out loud: 'Two.' I started out on my walk again. At last I found the third + door. I said: 'Three, that's my room,' and I turned the knob. The door + opened. Notwithstanding my befuddled state, I thought: 'Since the door + opens, this must be home.' After softly closing the door, I stepped out in + the darkness. I bumped against something soft: my easy-chair. I + immediately stretched myself out on it. + </p> + <p> + “In my condition it would not have been wise to look for my bureau, + my candles, my matches. It would have taken me at least two hours. It + would probably have taken me that long also to undress; and even then I + might not have succeeded. I gave it up. + </p> + <p> + “I only took my shoes off; I unbuttoned my waistcoat, which was + choking me, I loosened my trousers and went to sleep. + </p> + <p> + “This undoubtedly lasted for a long time. I was suddenly awakened by + a deep voice which was saying: 'What, you lazy girl, still in bed? It's + ten o'clock!' + </p> + <p> + “A woman's voice answered: 'Already! I was so tired yesterday.' + </p> + <p> + “In bewilderment I wondered what this dialogue meant. Where was I? + What had I done? My mind was wandering, still surrounded by a heavy fog. + The first voice continued: 'I'm going to raise your curtains.' + </p> + <p> + “I heard steps approaching me. Completely at a loss what to do, I + sat up. Then a hand was placed on my head. I started. The voice asked: + 'Who is there?' I took good care not to answer. A furious grasp seized me. + I in turn seized him, and a terrific struggle ensued. We were rolling + around, knocking over the furniture and crashing against the walls. A + woman's voice was shrieking: 'Help! help!' + </p> + <p> + “Servants, neighbors, frightened women crowded around us. The blinds + were open and the shades drawn. I was struggling with Colonel Dumoulin. + </p> + <p> + “I had slept beside his daughter's bed! + </p> + <p> + “When we were separated, I escaped to my room, dumbfounded. I locked + myself in and sat down with my feet on a chair, for my shoes had been left + in the young girl's room. + </p> + <p> + “I heard a great noise through the whole house, doors being opened + and closed, whisperings and rapid steps. + </p> + <p> + “After half an hour some one knocked on my door. I cried: 'Who is + there?' It was my uncle, the bridegroom's father. I opened the door: + </p> + <p> + “He was pale and furious, and he treated me harshly: 'You have + behaved like a scoundrel in my house, do you hear?' Then he added more + gently 'But, you young fool, why the devil did you let yourself get caught + at ten o'clock in the morning? You go to sleep like a log in that room, + instead of leaving immediately—immediately after.' + </p> + <p> + “I exclaimed: 'But, uncle, I assure you that nothing occurred. I was + drunk and got into the wrong room.' + </p> + <p> + “He shrugged his shoulders! 'Don't talk nonsense.' I raised my hand, + exclaiming: 'I swear to you on my honor.' My uncle continued: 'Yes, that's + all right. It's your duty to say that.' + </p> + <p> + “I in turn grew angry and told him the whole unfortunate occurrence. + He looked at me with a bewildered expression, not knowing what to believe. + Then he went out to confer with the colonel. + </p> + <p> + “I heard that a kind of jury of the mothers had been formed, to + which were submitted the different phases of the situation. + </p> + <p> + “He came back an hour later, sat down with the dignity of a judge + and began: 'No matter what may be the situation, I can see only one way + out of it for you; it is to marry Mademoiselle Dumoulin.' + </p> + <p> + “I bounded out of the chair, crying: 'Never! never!' + </p> + <p> + “Gravely he asked: 'Well, what do you expect to do?' + </p> + <p> + “I answered simply: 'Why—leave as soon as my shoes are + returned to me.' + </p> + <p> + “My uncle continued: 'Please do not jest. The colonel has decided to + blow your brains out as soon as he sees you. And you may be sure that he + does not threaten idly. I spoke of a duel and he answered: “No, I + tell you that I will blow his brains out.”' + </p> + <p> + “'Let us now examine the question from another point of view. Either + you have misbehaved yourself—and then so much the worse for you, my + boy; one should not go near a young girl—or else, being drunk, as + you say, you made a mistake in the room. In this case, it's even worse for + you. You shouldn't get yourself into such foolish situations. Whatever you + may say, the poor girl's reputation is lost, for a drunkard's excuses are + never believed. The only real victim in the matter is the girl. Think it + over.' + </p> + <p> + “He went away, while I cried after him: 'Say what you will, I'll not + marry her!' + </p> + <p> + “I stayed alone for another hour. Then my aunt came. She was crying. + She used every argument. No one believed my story. They could not imagine + that this young girl could have forgotten to lock her door in a house full + of company. The colonel had struck her. She had been crying the whole + morning. It was a terrible and unforgettable scandal. And my good aunt + added: 'Ask for her hand, anyhow. We may, perhaps, find some way out of it + when we are drawing up the papers.' + </p> + <p> + “This prospect relieved me. And I agreed to write my proposal. An + hour later I left for Paris. The following day I was informed that I had + been accepted. + </p> + <p> + “Then, in three weeks, before I had been able to find any excuse, + the banns were published, the announcement sent out, the contract signed, + and one Monday morning I found myself in a church, beside a weeping young + girl, after telling the magistrate that I consented to take her as my + companion—for better, for worse. + </p> + <p> + “I had not seen her since my adventure, and I glanced at her out of + the corner of my eye with a certain malevolent surprise. However, she was + not ugly—far from it. I said to myself: 'There is some one who won't + laugh every day.' + </p> + <p> + “She did not look at me once until, the evening, and she did not say + a single word. + </p> + <p> + “Toward the middle of the night I entered the bridal chamber with + the full intention of letting her know my resolutions, for I was now + master. I found her sitting in an armchair, fully dressed, pale and with + red eyes. As soon as I entered she rose and came slowly toward me saying: + 'Monsieur, I am ready to do whatever you may command. I will kill myself + if you so desire' + </p> + <p> + “The colonel's daughter was as pretty as she could be in this heroic + role. I kissed her; it was my privilege. + </p> + <p> + “I soon saw that I had not got a bad bargain. I have now been + married five years. I do not regret it in the least.” + </p> + <p> + Pierre Letoile was silent. His companions were laughing. One of them said: + “Marriage is indeed a lottery; you must never choose your numbers. + The haphazard ones are the best.” + </p> + <p> + Another added by way of conclusion: “Yes, but do not forget that the + god of drunkards chose for Pierre.” + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0110"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + THE UNKNOWN + </h2> + <p> + We were speaking of adventures, and each one of us was relating his story + of delightful experiences, surprising meetings, on the train, in a hotel, + at the seashore. According to Roger des Annettes, the seashore was + particularly favorable to the little blind god. + </p> + <p> + Gontran, who was keeping mum, was asked what he thought of it. + </p> + <p> + “I guess Paris is about the best place for that,” he said. + “Woman is like a precious trinket, we appreciate her all the more + when we meet her in the most unexpected places; but the rarest ones are + only to be found in Paris.” + </p> + <p> + He was silent for a moment, and then continued: + </p> + <p> + “By Jove, it's great! Walk along the streets on some spring morning. + The little women, daintily tripping along, seem to blossom out like + flowers. What a delightful, charming sight! The dainty perfume of violet + is everywhere. The city is gay, and everybody notices the women. By Jove, + how tempting they are in their light, thin dresses, which occasionally + give one a glimpse of the delicate pink flesh beneath! + </p> + <p> + “One saunters along, head up, mind alert, and eyes open. I tell you + it's great! You see her in the distance, while still a block away; you + already know that she is going to please you at closer quarters. You can + recognize her by the flower on her hat, the toss of her head, or her gait. + She approaches, and you say to yourself: 'Look out, here she is!' You come + closer to her and you devour her with your eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Is it a young girl running errands for some store, a young woman + returning from church, or hastening to see her lover? What do you care? + Her well-rounded bosom shows through the thin waist. Oh, if you could only + take her in your arms and fondle and kiss her! Her glance may be timid or + bold, her hair light or dark. What difference does it make? She brushes + against you, and a cold shiver runs down your spine. Ah, how you wish for + her all day! How many of these dear creatures have I met this way, and how + wildly in love I would have been had I known them more intimately. + </p> + <p> + “Have you ever noticed that the ones we would love the most + distractedly are those whom we never meet to know? Curious, isn't it? From + time to time we barely catch a glimpse of some woman, the mere sight of + whom thrills our senses. But it goes no further. When I think of all the + adorable creatures that I have elbowed in the streets of Paris, I fairly + rave. Who are they! Where are they? Where can I find them again? There is + a proverb which says that happiness often passes our way; I am sure that I + have often passed alongside the one who could have caught me like a linnet + in the snare of her fresh beauty.” + </p> + <p> + Roger des Annettes had listened smilingly. He answered: “I know that + as well as you do. This is what happened to me: About five years ago, for + the first time I met, on the Pont de la Concorde, a young woman who made a + wonderful impression on me. She was dark, rather stout, with glossy hair, + and eyebrows which nearly met above two dark eyes. On her lip was a + scarcely perceptible down, which made one dream-dream as one dreams of + beloved woods, on seeing a bunch of wild violets. She had a small waist + and a well-developed bust, which seemed to present a challenge, offer a + temptation. Her eyes were like two black spots on white enamel. Her glance + was strange, vacant, unthinking, and yet wonderfully beautiful. + </p> + <p> + “I imagined that she might be a Jewess. I followed her, and then + turned round to look at her, as did many others. She walked with a + swinging gait that was not graceful, but somehow attracted one. At the + Place de la Concorde she took a carriage, and I stood there like a fool, + moved by the strongest desire that had ever assailed me. + </p> + <p> + “For about three weeks I thought only of her; and then her memory + passed out of my mind. + </p> + <p> + “Six months later I descried her in the Rue de la Paix again. On + seeing her I felt the same shock that one experiences on seeing a once + dearly loved woman. I stopped that I might better observe her. When she + passed close enough to touch me I felt as though I were standing before a + red hot furnace. Then, when she had passed by, I noticed a delicious + sensation, as of a cooling breeze blowing over my face. I did not follow + her. I was afraid of doing something foolish. I was afraid of myself. + </p> + <p> + “She haunted all my dreams. + </p> + <p> + “It was a year before I saw her again. But just as the sun was going + down on one beautiful evening in May I recognized her walking along the + Avenue des Champs-Elysees. The Arc de Triomphe stood out in bold relief + against the fiery glow of the sky. A golden haze filled the air; it was + one of those delightful spring evenings which are the glory of Paris. + </p> + <p> + “I followed her, tormented by a desire to address her, to kneel + before her, to pour forth the emotion which was choking me. Twice I passed + by her only to fall back, and each time as I passed by I felt this + sensation, as of scorching heat, which I had noticed in the Rue de la + Paix. + </p> + <p> + “She glanced at me, and then I saw her enter a house on the Rue de + Presbourg. I waited for her two hours and she did not come out. Then I + decided to question the janitor. He seemed not to understand me. 'She must + be visiting some one,' he said. + </p> + <p> + “The next time I was eight months without seeing her. But one + freezing morning in January, I was walking along the Boulevard Malesherbes + at a dog trot, so as to keep warm, when at the corner I bumped into a + woman and knocked a small package out of her hand. I tried to apologize. + It was she! + </p> + <p> + “At first I stood stock still from the shock; then having returned + to her the package which she had dropped, I said abruptly: + </p> + <p> + “'I am both grieved and delighted, madame, to have jostled you. For + more than two years I have known you, admired you, and had the most ardent + wish to be presented to you; nevertheless I have been unable to find out + who you are, or where you live. Please excuse these foolish words. + Attribute them to a passionate desire to be numbered among your + acquaintances. Such sentiments can surely offend you in no way! You do not + know me. My name is Baron Roger des Annettes. Make inquiries about me, and + you will find that I am a gentleman. Now, if you refuse my request, you + will throw me into abject misery. Please be good to me and tell me how I + can see you.' + </p> + <p> + “She looked at me with her strange vacant stare, and answered + smilingly: + </p> + <p> + “'Give me your address. I will come and see you.' + </p> + <p> + “I was so dumfounded that I must have shown my surprise. But I + quickly gathered my wits together and gave her a visiting card, which she + slipped into her pocket with a quick, deft movement. + </p> + <p> + “Becoming bolder, I stammered: + </p> + <p> + “'When shall I see you again?' + </p> + <p> + “She hesitated, as though mentally running over her list of + engagements, and then murmured: + </p> + <p> + “'Will Sunday morning suit you?' + </p> + <p> + “'I should say it would!' + </p> + <p> + “She went on, after having stared at me, judged, weighed and + analyzed me with this heavy and vacant gaze which seemed to leave a + quieting and deadening impression on the person towards whom it was + directed. + </p> + <p> + “Until Sunday my mind was occupied day and night trying to guess who + she might be and planning my course of conduct towards her. I finally + decided to buy her a jewel, a beautiful little jewel, which I placed in + its box on the mantelpiece, and left it there awaiting her arrival. + </p> + <p> + “I spent a restless night waiting for her. + </p> + <p> + “At ten o'clock she came, calm and quiet, and with her hand + outstretched, as though she had known me for years. Drawing up a chair, I + took her hat and coat and furs, and laid them aside. And then, timidly, I + took her hand in mine; after that all went on without a hitch. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, my friends! what a bliss it is, to stand at a discreet distance + and watch the hidden pink and blue ribbons, partly concealed, to observe + the hazy lines of the beloved one's form, as they become visible through + the last of the filmy garments! What a delight it is to watch the + ostrich-like modesty of those who are in reality none too modest. And what + is so pretty as their motions! + </p> + <p> + “Her back was turned towards me, and suddenly, my eyes were + irresistibly drawn to a large black spot right between her shoulders. What + could it be? Were my eyes deceiving me? But no, there it was, staring me + in the face! Then my mind reverted to the faint down on her lip, the heavy + eyebrows almost meeting over her coal-black eyes, her glossy black hair + —I should have been prepared for some surprise. + </p> + <p> + “Nevertheless I was dumfounded, and my mind was haunted by dim + visions of strange adventures. I seemed to see before me one of the evil + genii of the Thousand and One Nights, one of these dangerous and crafty + creatures whose mission it is to drag men down to unknown depths. I + thought of Solomon, who made the Queen of Sheba walk on a mirror that he + might be sure that her feet were not cloven. + </p> + <p> + “And when the time came for me to sing of love to her, my voice + forsook me. At first she showed surprise, which soon turned to anger; and + she said, quickly putting on her wraps: + </p> + <p> + “'It was hardly worth while for me to go out of my way to come + here.' + </p> + <p> + “I wanted her to accept the ring which I had bought for her, but she + replied haughtily: 'For whom do you take me, sir?' I blushed to the roots + of my hair. She left without saying another word. + </p> + <p> + “There is my whole adventure. But the worst part of it is that I am + now madly in love with her. I can't see a woman without thinking of her. + All the others disgust me, unless they remind me of her. I cannot kiss a + woman without seeing her face before me, and without suffering the torture + of unsatisfied desire. She is always with me, always there, dressed or + nude, my true love. She is there, beside the other one, visible but + intangible. I am almost willing to believe that she was bewitched, and + carried a talisman between her shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “Who is she? I don't know yet. I have met her once or twice since. I + bowed, but she pretended not to recognize me. Who is she? An Oriental? + Yes, doubtless an oriental Jewess! I believe that she must be a Jewess! + But why? Why? I don't know!” + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0111"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + THE APPARITION + </h2> + <p> + The subject of sequestration of the person came up in speaking of a recent + lawsuit, and each of us had a story to tell—a true story, he said. + We had been spending the evening together at an old family mansion in the + Rue de Grenelle, just a party of intimate friends. The old Marquis de la + Tour-Samuel, who was eighty-two, rose, and, leaning his elbow on the + mantelpiece, said in his somewhat shaky voice: + </p> + <p> + “I also know of something strange, so strange that it has haunted me + all my life. It is now fifty-six years since the incident occurred, and + yet not a month passes that I do not see it again in a dream, so great is + the impression of fear it has left on my mind. For ten minutes I + experienced such horrible fright that ever since then a sort of constant + terror has remained with me. Sudden noises startle me violently, and + objects imperfectly distinguished at night inspire me with a mad desire to + flee from them. In short, I am afraid of the dark! + </p> + <p> + “But I would not have acknowledged that before I reached my present + age. Now I can say anything. I have never receded before real danger, + ladies. It is, therefore, permissible, at eighty-two years of age, not to + be brave in presence of imaginary danger. + </p> + <p> + “That affair so completely upset me, caused me such deep and + mysterious and terrible distress, that I never spoke of it to any one. I + will now tell it to you exactly as it happened, without any attempt at + explanation. + </p> + <p> + “In July, 1827, I was stationed at Rouen. One day as I was walking + along the quay I met a man whom I thought I recognized without being able + to recall exactly who he was. Instinctively I made a movement to stop. The + stranger perceived it and at once extended his hand. + </p> + <p> + “He was a friend to whom I had been deeply attached as a youth. For + five years I had not seen him; he seemed to have aged half a century. His + hair was quite white and he walked bent over as though completely + exhausted. He apparently understood my surprise, and he told me of the + misfortune which had shattered his life. + </p> + <p> + “Having fallen madly in love with a young girl, he had married her, + but after a year of more than earthly happiness she died suddenly of an + affection of the heart. He left his country home on the very day of her + burial and came to his town house in Rouen, where he lived, alone and + unhappy, so sad and wretched that he thought constantly of suicide. + </p> + <p> + “'Since I have found you again in this manner,' he said, 'I will ask + you to render me an important service. It is to go and get me out of the + desk in my bedroom—our bedroom—some papers of which I have + urgent need. I cannot send a servant or a business clerk, as discretion + and absolute silence are necessary. As for myself, nothing on earth would + induce me to reenter that house. I will give you the key of the room, + which I myself locked on leaving, and the key of my desk, also a few words + for my gardener, telling him to open the chateau for you. But come and + breakfast with me tomorrow and we will arrange all that.' + </p> + <p> + “I promised to do him the slight favor he asked. It was, for that + matter, only a ride which I could make in an hour on horseback, his + property being but a few miles distant from Rouen. + </p> + <p> + “At ten o'clock the following day I breakfasted, tete-a-tete, with + my friend, but he scarcely spoke. + </p> + <p> + “He begged me to pardon him; the thought of the visit I was about to + make to that room, the scene of his dead happiness, overcame him, he said. + He, indeed, seemed singularly agitated and preoccupied, as though + undergoing some mysterious mental struggle. + </p> + <p> + “At length he explained to me exactly what I had to do. It was very + simple. I must take two packages of letters and a roll of papers from the + first right-hand drawer of the desk, of which I had the key. He added: + </p> + <p> + “'I need not beg you to refrain from glancing at them.' + </p> + <p> + “I was wounded at that remark and told him so somewhat sharply. He + stammered: + </p> + <p> + “'Forgive me, I suffer so,' and tears came to his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “At about one o'clock I took leave of him to accomplish my mission. + </p> + <p> + “'The weather was glorious, and I trotted across the fields, + listening to the song of the larks and the rhythmical clang of my sword + against my boot. Then I entered the forest and walked my horse. Branches + of trees caressed my face as I passed, and now and then I caught a leaf + with my teeth and chewed it, from sheer gladness of heart at being alive + and vigorous on such a radiant day. + </p> + <p> + “As I approached the chateau I took from my pocket the letter I had + for the gardener, and was astonished at finding it sealed. I was so + irritated that I was about to turn back without having fulfilled my + promise, but reflected that I should thereby display undue susceptibility. + My friend in his troubled condition might easily have fastened the + envelope without noticing that he did so. + </p> + <p> + “The manor looked as if it had been abandoned for twenty years. The + open gate was falling from its hinges, the walks were overgrown with grass + and the flower beds were no longer distinguishable. + </p> + <p> + “The noise I made by kicking at a shutter brought out an old man + from a side door. He seemed stunned with astonishment at seeing me. On + receiving my letter, he read it, reread it, turned it over and over, + looked me up and down, put the paper in his pocket and finally said: + </p> + <p> + “'Well, what is it you wish?' + </p> + <p> + “I replied shortly: + </p> + <p> + “'You ought to know, since you have just read your master's orders. + I wish to enter the chateau.' + </p> + <p> + “He seemed overcome. + </p> + <p> + “'Then you are going in—into her room?' + </p> + <p> + “I began to lose patience. + </p> + <p> + “'Damn it! Are you presuming to question me?' + </p> + <p> + “He stammered in confusion: + </p> + <p> + “'No—sir—but—but it has not been opened since—since + the-death. If you will be kind enough to wait five minutes I will go and—and + see if—' + </p> + <p> + “I interrupted him angrily: + </p> + <p> + “'See here, what do you mean by your tricks? + </p> + <p> + “'You know very well you cannot enter the room, since here is the + key!' + </p> + <p> + “He no longer objected. + </p> + <p> + “'Then, sir, I will show you the way.' + </p> + <p> + “'Show me the staircase and leave me. I'll find my way without you.' + </p> + <p> + “'But—sir—indeed—' + </p> + <p> + “This time I lost patience, and pushing him aside, went into the + house. + </p> + <p> + “I first went through the kitchen, then two rooms occupied by this + man and his wife. I then crossed a large hall, mounted a staircase and + recognized the door described by my friend. + </p> + <p> + “I easily opened it, and entered the apartment. It was so dark that + at first I could distinguish nothing. I stopped short, disagreeably + affected by that disagreeable, musty odor of closed, unoccupied rooms. As + my eyes slowly became accustomed to the darkness I saw plainly enough a + large and disordered bedroom, the bed without sheets but still retaining + its mattresses and pillows, on one of which was a deep impression, as + though an elbow or a head had recently rested there. + </p> + <p> + “The chairs all seemed out of place. I noticed that a door, + doubtless that of a closet, had remained half open. + </p> + <p> + “I first went to the window, which I opened to let in the light, but + the fastenings of the shutters had grown so rusty that I could not move + them. I even tried to break them with my sword, but without success. As I + was growing irritated over my useless efforts and could now see fairly + well in the semi-darkness, I gave up the hope of getting more light, and + went over to the writing desk. + </p> + <p> + “I seated myself in an armchair and, letting down the lid of the + desk, I opened the drawer designated. It was full to the top. I needed but + three packages, which I knew how to recognize, and began searching for + them. + </p> + <p> + “I was straining my eyes in the effort to read the superscriptions + when I seemed to hear, or, rather, feel, something rustle back of me. I + paid no attention, believing that a draught from the window was moving + some drapery. But in a minute or so another movement, almost + imperceptible, sent a strangely disagreeable little shiver over my skin. + It was so stupid to be affected, even slightly, that self-respect + prevented my turning around. I had just found the second package I needed + and was about to lay my hand on the third when a long and painful sigh, + uttered just at my shoulder, made me bound like a madman from my seat and + land several feet off. As I jumped I had turned round my hand on the hilt + of my sword, and, truly, if I had not felt it at my side I should have + taken to my heels like a coward. + </p> + <p> + “A tall woman dressed in white, stood gazing at me from the back of + the chair where I had been sitting an instant before. + </p> + <p> + “Such a shudder ran through all my limbs that I nearly fell + backward. No one who has not experienced it can understand that frightful, + unreasoning terror! The mind becomes vague, the heart ceases to beat, the + entire body grows as limp as a sponge. + </p> + <p> + “I do not believe in ghosts, nevertheless I collapsed from a hideous + dread of the dead, and I suffered, oh! I suffered in a few moments more + than in all the rest of my life from the irresistible terror of the + supernatural. If she had not spoken I should have died perhaps. But she + spoke, she spoke in a sweet, sad voice that set my nerves vibrating. I + dare not say that I became master of myself and recovered my reason. No! I + was terrified and scarcely knew what I was doing. But a certain innate + pride, a remnant of soldierly instinct, made me, almost in spite of + myself, maintain a bold front. She said: + </p> + <p> + “'Oh, sir, you can render me a great service.' + </p> + <p> + “I wanted to reply, but it was impossible for me to pronounce a + word. Only a vague sound came from my throat. She continued: + </p> + <p> + “'Will you? You can save me, cure me. I suffer frightfully. I + suffer, oh! how I suffer!' and she slowly seated herself in my armchair, + still looking at me. + </p> + <p> + “'Will you?' she said. + </p> + <p> + “I nodded in assent, my voice still being paralyzed. + </p> + <p> + “Then she held out to me a tortoise-shell comb and murmured: + </p> + <p> + “'Comb my hair, oh! comb my hair; that will cure me; it must be + combed. Look at my head—how I suffer; and my hair pulls so!' + </p> + <p> + “Her hair, unbound, very long and very black, it seemed to me, hung + over the back of the armchair and touched the floor. + </p> + <p> + “Why did I promise? Why did I take that comb with a shudder, and why + did I hold in my hands her long black hair that gave my skin a frightful + cold sensation, as though I were handling snakes? I cannot tell. + </p> + <p> + “That sensation has remained in my fingers, and I still tremble in + recalling it. + </p> + <p> + “I combed her hair. I handled, I know not how, those icy locks. I + twisted, knotted, and unknotted, and braided them. She sighed, bowed her + head, seemed happy. Suddenly she said, 'Thank you!' snatched the comb from + my hands and fled by the door that I had noticed ajar. + </p> + <p> + “Left alone, I experienced for several seconds the horrible + agitation of one who awakens from a nightmare. At length I regained my + senses. I ran to the window and with a mighty effort burst open the + shutters, letting a flood of light into the room. Immediately I sprang to + the door by which that being had departed. I found it closed and + immovable! + </p> + <p> + “Then the mad desire to flee overcame me like a panic the panic + which soldiers know in battle. I seized the three packets of letters on + the open desk, ran from the room, dashed down the stairs four steps at a + time, found myself outside, I know not how, and, perceiving my horse a few + steps off, leaped into the saddle and galloped away. + </p> + <p> + “I stopped only when I reached Rouen and alighted at my lodgings. + Throwing the reins to my orderly, I fled to my room and shut myself in to + reflect. For an hour I anxiously asked myself if I were not the victim of + a hallucination. Undoubtedly I had had one of those incomprehensible + nervous attacks those exaltations of mind that give rise to visions and + are the stronghold of the supernatural. And I was about to believe I had + seen a vision, had a hallucination, when, as I approached the window, my + eyes fell, by chance, upon my breast. My military cape was covered with + long black hairs! One by one, with trembling fingers, I plucked them off + and threw them away. + </p> + <p> + “I then called my orderly. I was too disturbed, too upset to go and + see my friend that day, and I also wished to reflect more fully upon what + I ought to tell him. I sent him his letters, for which he gave the soldier + a receipt. He asked after me most particularly, and, on being told I was + ill—had had a sunstroke—appeared exceedingly anxious. Next + morning I went to him, determined to tell him the truth. He had gone out + the evening before and had not yet returned. I called again during the + day; my friend was still absent. After waiting a week longer without news + of him, I notified the authorities and a judicial search was instituted. + Not the slightest trace of his whereabouts or manner of disappearance was + discovered. + </p> + <p> + “A minute inspection of the abandoned chateau revealed nothing of a + suspicious character. There was no indication that a woman had been + concealed there. + </p> + <p> + “After fruitless researches all further efforts were abandoned, and + for fifty-six years I have heard nothing; I know no more than before.” + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0112"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + ORIGINAL SHORT STORIES, Vol. 8. + </h2> +<div class='pre'> + GUY DE MAUPASSANT + ORIGINAL SHORT STORIES + Translated by + ALBERT M. C. McMASTER, B.A. + A. E. HENDERSON, B.A. + MME. QUESADA and Others +</div> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0113"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + VOLUME VIII. + </h2> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0114"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + CLOCHETTE + </h2> + <p> + How strange those old recollections are which haunt us, without our being + able to get rid of them. + </p> + <p> + This one is so very old that I cannot understand how it has clung so + vividly and tenaciously to my memory. Since then I have seen so many + sinister things, which were either affecting or terrible, that I am + astonished at not being able to pass a single day without the face of + Mother Bellflower recurring to my mind's eye, just as I knew her formerly, + now so long ago, when I was ten or twelve years old. + </p> + <p> + She was an old seamstress who came to my parents' house once a week, every + Thursday, to mend the linen. My parents lived in one of those country + houses called chateaux, which are merely old houses with gable roofs, to + which are attached three or four farms lying around them. + </p> + <p> + The village, a large village, almost a market town, was a few hundred + yards away, closely circling the church, a red brick church, black with + age. + </p> + <p> + Well, every Thursday Mother Clochette came between half-past six and seven + in the morning, and went immediately into the linen-room and began to + work. She was a tall, thin, bearded or rather hairy woman, for she had a + beard all over her face, a surprising, an unexpected beard, growing in + improbable tufts, in curly bunches which looked as if they had been sown + by a madman over that great face of a gendarme in petticoats. She had them + on her nose, under her nose, round her nose, on her chin, on her cheeks; + and her eyebrows, which were extraordinarily thick and long, and quite + gray, bushy and bristling, looked exactly like a pair of mustaches stuck + on there by mistake. + </p> + <p> + She limped, not as lame people generally do, but like a ship at anchor. + When she planted her great, bony, swerving body on her sound leg, she + seemed to be preparing to mount some enormous wave, and then suddenly she + dipped as if to disappear in an abyss, and buried herself in the ground. + Her walk reminded one of a storm, as she swayed about, and her head, which + was always covered with an enormous white cap, whose ribbons fluttered + down her back, seemed to traverse the horizon from north to south and from + south to north, at each step. + </p> + <p> + I adored Mother Clochette. As soon as I was up I went into the linen-room + where I found her installed at work, with a foot-warmer under her feet. As + soon as I arrived, she made me take the foot-warmer and sit upon it, so + that I might not catch cold in that large, chilly room under the roof. + </p> + <p> + “That draws the blood from your throat,” she said to me. + </p> + <p> + She told me stories, whilst mending the linen with her long crooked nimble + fingers; her eyes behind her magnifying spectacles, for age had impaired + her sight, appeared enormous to me, strangely profound, double. + </p> + <p> + She had, as far as I can remember the things which she told me and by + which my childish heart was moved, the large heart of a poor woman. She + told me what had happened in the village, how a cow had escaped from the + cow-house and had been found the next morning in front of Prosper Malet's + windmill, looking at the sails turning, or about a hen's egg which had + been found in the church belfry without any one being able to understand + what creature had been there to lay it, or the story of Jean-Jean Pila's + dog, who had been ten leagues to bring back his master's breeches which a + tramp had stolen whilst they were hanging up to dry out of doors, after he + had been in the rain. She told me these simple adventures + in such a manner, that in my mind they assumed the proportions of + never-to-be-forgotten dramas, of grand and mysterious poems; and the ingenious + stories invented by the poets which my mother told me in the evening, had + none of the flavor, none of the breadth or vigor of the peasant woman's + narratives. + </p> + <p> + Well, one Tuesday, when I had spent all the morning in listening to Mother + Clochette, I wanted to go upstairs to her again during the day after + picking hazelnuts with the manservant in the wood behind the farm. I + remember it all as clearly as what happened only yesterday. + </p> + <p> + On opening the door of the linen-room, I saw the old seamstress lying on + the ground by the side of her chair, with her face to the ground and her + arms stretched out, but still holding her needle in one hand and one of my + shirts in the other. One of her legs in a blue stocking, the longer one, + no doubt, was extended under her chair, and her spectacles glistened + against the wall, as they had rolled away from her. + </p> + <p> + I ran away uttering shrill cries. They all came running, and in a few + minutes I was told that Mother Clochette was dead. + </p> + <p> + I cannot describe the profound, poignant, terrible emotion which stirred + my childish heart. I went slowly down into the drawing-room and hid myself + in a dark corner, in the depths of an immense old armchair, where I knelt + down and wept. I remained there a long time, no doubt, for night came on. + Suddenly somebody came in with a lamp, without seeing me, however, and I + heard my father and mother talking with the medical man, whose voice I + recognized. + </p> + <p> + He had been sent for immediately, and he was explaining the causes of the + accident, of which I understood nothing, however. Then he sat down and had + a glass of liqueur and a biscuit. + </p> + <p> + He went on talking, and what he then said will remain engraved on my mind + until I die! I think that I can give the exact words which he used. + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” said he, “the poor woman! She broke her leg the + day of my arrival here, and I had not even had time to wash my hands after + getting off the diligence before I was sent for in all haste, for it was a + bad case, very bad. + </p> + <p> + “She was seventeen, and a pretty girl, very pretty! Would any one + believe it? I have never told her story before, and nobody except myself + and one other person who is no longer living in this part of the country + ever knew it. Now that she is dead, I may be less discreet. + </p> + <p> + “Just then a young assistant-teacher came to live in the village; he + was a handsome, well-made fellow, and looked like a non-commissioned + officer. All the girls ran after him, but he paid no attention to them, + partly because he was very much afraid of his superior, the schoolmaster, + old Grabu, who occasionally got out of bed the wrong foot first. + </p> + <p> + “Old Grabu already employed pretty Hortense who has just died here, + and who was afterwards nicknamed Clochette. The assistant master singled + out the pretty young girl, who was, no doubt, flattered at being chosen by + this impregnable conqueror; at any rate, she fell in love with him, and he + succeeded in persuading her to give him a first meeting in the hay-loft + behind the school, at night, after she had done her day's sewing. + </p> + <p> + “She pretended to go home, but instead of going downstairs when she + left the Grabus' she went upstairs and hid among the hay, to wait for her + lover. He soon joined her, and was beginning to say pretty things to her, + when the door of the hay-loft opened and the schoolmaster appeared, and + asked: 'What are you doing up there, Sigisbert?' Feeling sure that he + would be caught, the young schoolmaster lost his presence of mind and + replied stupidly: 'I came up here to rest a little amongst the bundles of + hay, Monsieur Grabu.' + </p> + <p> + “The loft was very large and absolutely dark, and Sigisbert pushed + the frightened girl to the further end and said: 'Go over there and hide + yourself. I shall lose my position, so get away and hide yourself.' + </p> + <p> + “When the schoolmaster heard the whispering, he continued: 'Why, you + are not by yourself?' 'Yes, I am, Monsieur Grabu!' 'But you are not, for + you are talking.' 'I swear I am, Monsieur Grabu.' 'I will soon find out,' + the old man replied, and double locking the door, he went down to get a + light. + </p> + <p> + “Then the young man, who was a coward such as one frequently meets, + lost his head, and becoming furious all of a sudden, he repeated: 'Hide + yourself, so that he may not find you. You will keep me from making a + living for the rest of my life; you will ruin my whole career. Do hide + yourself!' They could hear the key turning in the lock again, and Hortense + ran to the window which looked out on the street, opened it quickly, and + then said in a low and determined voice: 'You will come and pick me up + when he is gone,' and she jumped out. + </p> + <p> + “Old Grabu found nobody, and went down again in great surprise, and + a quarter of an hour later, Monsieur Sigisbert came to me and related his + adventure. The girl had remained at the foot of the wall unable to get up, + as she had fallen from the second story, and I went with him to fetch her. + It was raining in torrents, and I brought the unfortunate girl home with + me, for the right leg was broken in three places, and the bones had come + trough the flesh. She did not complain, and merely said, with admirable + resignation: 'I am punished, well punished!' + </p> + <p> + “I sent for assistance and for the work-girl's relatives and told + them a, made-up story of a runaway carriage which had knocked her down and + lamed her outside my door. They believed me, and the gendarmes for a whole + month tried in vain to find the author of this accident. + </p> + <p> + “That is all! And I say that this woman was a heroine and belonged + to the race of those who accomplish the grandest deeds of history. + </p> + <p> + “That was her only love affair, and she died a virgin. She was a + martyr, a noble soul, a sublimely devoted woman! And if I did not + absolutely admire her, I should not have told you this story, which I + would never tell any one during her life; you understand why.” + </p> + <p> + The doctor ceased. Mamma cried and papa said some words which I did not + catch; then they left the room and I remained on my knees in the armchair + and sobbed, whilst I heard a strange noise of heavy footsteps and + something knocking against the side of the staircase. + </p> + <p> + They were carrying away Clochette's body. + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0115"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + THE KISS + </h2> + <p> + My Little Darling: So you are crying from morning until night and from + night until morning, because your husband leaves you; you do not know what + to do and so you ask your old aunt for advice; you must consider her quite + an expert. I don't know as much as you think I do, and yet I am not + entirely ignorant of the art of loving, or, rather, of making one's self + loved, in which you are a little lacking. I can admit that at my age. + </p> + <p> + You say that you are all attention, love, kisses and caresses for him. + Perhaps that is the very trouble; I think you kiss him too much. + </p> + <p> + My dear, we have in our hands the most terrible power in the world: LOVE. + </p> + <p> + Man is gifted with physical strength, and he exercises force. Woman is + gifted with charm, and she rules with caresses. It is our weapon, + formidable and invincible, but we should know how to use it. + </p> + <p> + Know well that we are the mistresses of the world! To tell the history of + Love from the beginning of the world would be to tell the history of man + himself: Everything springs from it, the arts, great events, customs, + wars, the overthrow of empires. + </p> + <p> + In the Bible you find Delila, Judith; in fables we find Omphale, Helen; in + history the Sabines, Cleopatra and many others. + </p> + <p> + Therefore we reign supreme, all-powerful. But, like kings, we must make + use of delicate diplomacy. + </p> + <p> + Love, my dear, is made up of imperceptible sensations. We know that it is + as strong as death, but also as frail as glass. The slightest shock breaks + it, and our power crumbles, and we are never able to raise it again. + </p> + <p> + We have the power of making ourselves adored, but we lack one tiny thing, + the understanding of the various kinds of caresses. In embraces we lose + the sentiment of delicacy, while the man over whom we rule remains master + of himself, capable of judging the foolishness of certain words. Take + care, my dear; that is the defect in our armor. It is our Achilles' heel. + </p> + <p> + Do you know whence comes our real power? From the kiss, the kiss alone! + When we know how to hold out and give up our lips we can become queens. + </p> + <p> + The kiss is only a preface, however, but a charming preface. More charming + than the realization itself. A preface which can always be read over + again, whereas one cannot always read over the book. + </p> + <p> + Yes, the meeting of lips is the most perfect, the most divine sensation + given to human beings, the supreme limit of happiness: It is in the kiss + alone that one sometimes seems to feel this union of souls after which we + strive, the intermingling of hearts, as it were. + </p> + <p> + Do you remember the verses of Sully-Prudhomme: + </p> +<div class='pre'> + Caresses are nothing but anxious bliss, + Vain attempts of love to unite souls through a kiss. +</div> + <p> + One caress alone gives this deep sensation of two beings welded into one + —it is the kiss. No violent delirium of complete possession is worth + this trembling approach of the lips, this first moist and fresh contact, + and then the long, lingering, motionless rapture. + </p> + <p> + Therefore, my dear, the kiss is our strongest weapon, but we must take + care not to dull it. Do not forget that its value is only relative, purely + conventional. It continually changes according to circumstances, the state + of expectancy and the ecstasy of the mind. I will call attention to one + example. + </p> + <p> + Another poet, Francois Coppee, has written a line which we all remember, a + line which we find delightful, which moves our very hearts. + </p> + <p> + After describing the expectancy of a lover, waiting in a room one winter's + evening, his anxiety, his nervous impatience, the terrible fear of not + seeing her, he describes the arrival of the beloved woman, who at last + enters hurriedly, out of breath, bringing with her part of the winter + breeze, and he exclaims: + </p> +<div class='pre'> + Oh! the taste of the kisses first snatched through the veil. +</div> + <p> + Is that not a line of exquisite sentiment, a delicate and charming + observation, a perfect truth? All those who have hastened to a clandestine + meeting, whom passion has thrown into the arms of a man, well do they know + these first delicious kisses through the veil; and they tremble at the + memory of them. And yet their sole charm lies in the circumstances, from + being late, from the anxious expectancy, but from the purely—or, + rather, impurely, if you prefer—sensual point of view, they are + detestable. + </p> + <p> + Think! Outside it is cold. The young woman has walked quickly; the veil is + moist from her cold breath. Little drops of water shine in the lace. The + lover seizes her and presses his burning lips to her liquid breath. The + moist veil, which discolors and carries the dreadful odor of chemical dye, + penetrates into the young man's mouth, moistens his mustache. He does not + taste the lips of his beloved, he tastes the dye of this lace moistened + with cold breath. And yet, like the poet, we would all exclaim: + </p> +<div class='pre'> + Oh! the taste of the kisses first snatched through the veil. +</div> + <p> + Therefore, the value of this caress being entirely a matter of convention, + we must be careful not to abuse it. + </p> + <p> + Well, my dear, I have several times noticed that you are very clumsy. + However, you were not alone in that fault; the majority of women lose + their authority by abusing the kiss with untimely kisses. When they feel + that their husband or their lover is a little tired, at those times when + the heart as well as the body needs rest, instead of understanding what is + going on within him, they persist in giving inopportune caresses, tire him + by the obstinacy of begging lips and give caresses lavished with neither + rhyme nor reason. + </p> + <p> + Trust in the advice of my experience. First, never kiss your husband in + public, in the train, at the restaurant. It is bad taste; do not give in + to your desires. He would feel ridiculous and would never forgive you. + </p> + <p> + Beware of useless kisses lavished in intimacy. I am sure that you abuse + them. For instance, I remember one day that you did something quite + shocking. Probably you do not remember it. + </p> + <p> + All three of us were together in the drawing-room, and, as you did not + stand on ceremony before me, your husband was holding you on his knees and + kissing you at great length on the neck, the lips and throat. Suddenly you + exclaimed: “Oh! the fire!” You had been paying no attention to + it, and it was almost out. A few lingering embers were glowing on the + hearth. Then he rose, ran to the woodbox, from which he dragged two + enormous logs with great difficulty, when you came to him with begging + lips, murmuring: + </p> + <p> + “Kiss me!” He turned his head with difficulty and tried to + hold up the logs at the same time. Then you gently and slowly placed your + mouth on that of the poor fellow, who remained with his neck out of joint, + his sides twisted, his arms almost dropping off, trembling with fatigue + and tired from his desperate effort. And you kept drawing out this + torturing kiss, without seeing or understanding. Then when you freed him, + you began to grumble: “How badly you kiss!” No wonder! + </p> + <p> + Oh, take care of that! We all have this foolish habit, this unconscious + need of choosing the most inconvenient moments. When he is carrying a + glass of water, when he is putting on his shoes, when he is tying his + scarf—in short, when he finds himself in any uncomfortable position + —then is the time which we choose for a caress which makes him stop + for a whole minute in the middle of a gesture with the sole desire of + getting rid of us! + </p> + <p> + Do not think that this criticism is insignificant. Love, my dear, is a + delicate thing. The least little thing offends it; know that everything + depends on the tact of our caresses. An ill-placed kiss may do any amount + of harm. + </p> + <p> + Try following my advice. + </p> +<div class='pre'> + Your old aunt, + COLLETTE. +</div> + <p> + This story appeared in the Gaulois in November, 1882, under the pseudonym + of “Maufrigneuse.” + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0116"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + THE LEGION OF HONOR + </h2> +<div class='pre'> + HOW HE GOT THE LEGION OF HONOR +</div> + <p> + From the time some people begin to talk they seem to have an overmastering + desire or vocation. + </p> + <p> + Ever since he was a child, M. Caillard had only had one idea in his head + —to wear the ribbon of an order. When he was still quite a small boy + he used to wear a zinc cross of the Legion of Honor pinned on his tunic, + just as other children wear a soldier's cap, and he took his mother's hand + in the street with a proud air, sticking out his little chest with its red + ribbon and metal star so that it might show to advantage. + </p> + <p> + His studies were not a success, and he failed in his examination for + Bachelor of Arts; so, not knowing what to do, he married a pretty girl, as + he had plenty of money of his own. + </p> + <p> + They lived in Paris, as many rich middle-class people do, mixing with + their own particular set, and proud of knowing a deputy, who might perhaps + be a minister some day, and counting two heads of departments among their + friends. + </p> + <p> + But M. Caillard could not get rid of his one absorbing idea, and he felt + constantly unhappy because he had not the right to wear a little bit of + colored ribbon in his buttonhole. + </p> + <p> + When he met any men who were decorated on the boulevards, he looked at + them askance, with intense jealousy. Sometimes, when he had nothing to do + in the afternoon, he would count them, and say to himself: “Just let + me see how many I shall meet between the Madeleine and the Rue Drouot.” + </p> + <p> + Then he would walk slowly, looking at every coat with a practiced eye for + the little bit of red ribbon, and when he had got to the end of his walk + he always repeated the numbers aloud. + </p> + <p> + “Eight officers and seventeen knights. As many as that! It is stupid + to sow the cross broadcast in that fashion. I wonder how many I shall meet + going back?” + </p> + <p> + And he returned slowly, unhappy when the crowd of passers-by interfered + with his vision. + </p> + <p> + He knew the places where most were to be found. They swarmed in the Palais + Royal. Fewer were seen in the Avenue de l'Opera than in the Rue de la + Paix, while the right side of the boulevard was more frequented by them + than the left. + </p> + <p> + They also seemed to prefer certain cafes and theatres. Whenever he saw a + group of white-haired old gentlemen standing together in the middle of the + pavement, interfering with the traffic, he used to say to himself: + </p> + <p> + “They are officers of the Legion of Honor,” and he felt + inclined to take off his hat to them. + </p> + <p> + He had often remarked that the officers had a different bearing to the + mere knights. They carried their head differently, and one felt that they + enjoyed a higher official consideration and a more widely extended + importance. + </p> + <p> + Sometimes, however, the worthy man would be seized with a furious hatred + for every one who was decorated; he felt like a Socialist toward them. + </p> + <p> + Then, when he got home, excited at meeting so many crosses—just as a + poor, hungry wretch might be on passing some dainty provision shop—he + used to ask in a loud voice: + </p> + <p> + “When shall we get rid of this wretched government?” + </p> + <p> + And his wife would be surprised, and ask: + </p> + <p> + “What is the matter with you to-day?” + </p> + <p> + “I am indignant,” he replied, “at the injustice I see + going on around us. Oh, the Communards were certainly right!” + </p> + <p> + After dinner he would go out again and look at the shops where the + decorations were sold, and he examined all the emblems of various shapes + and colors. He would have liked to possess them all, and to have walked + gravely at the head of a procession, with his crush hat under his arm and + his breast covered with decorations, radiant as a star, amid a buzz of + admiring whispers and a hum of respect. + </p> + <p> + But, alas! he had no right to wear any decoration whatever. + </p> + <p> + He used to say to himself: “It is really too difficult for any man + to obtain the Legion of Honor unless he is some public functionary. + Suppose I try to be appointed an officer of the Academy!” + </p> + <p> + But he did not know how to set about it, and spoke on the subject to his + wife, who was stupefied. + </p> + <p> + “Officer of the Academy! What have you done to deserve it?” + </p> + <p> + He got angry. “I know what I am talking about. I only want to know + how to set about it. You are quite stupid at times.” + </p> + <p> + She smiled. “You are quite right. I don't understand anything about + it.” + </p> + <p> + An idea struck him: “Suppose you were to speak to M. Rosselin, the + deputy; he might be able to advise me. You understand I cannot broach the + subject to him directly. It is rather difficult and delicate, but coming + from you it might seem quite natural.” + </p> + <p> + Mme. Caillard did what he asked her, and M. Rosselin promised to speak to + the minister about it; and then Caillard began to worry him, till the + deputy told him he must make a formal application and put forward his + claims. + </p> + <p> + “What were his charms?” he said. “He was not even a + Bachelor of Arts.” However, he set to work and produced a pamphlet, + with the title, “The People's Right to Instruction,” but he + could not finish it for want of ideas. + </p> + <p> + He sought for easier subjects, and began several in succession. The first + was, “The Instruction of Children by Means of the Eye.” He + wanted gratuitous theatres to be established in every poor quarter of + Paris for little children. Their parents were to take them there when they + were quite young, and, by means of a magic lantern, all the notions of + human knowledge were to be imparted to them. There were to be regular + courses. The sight would educate the mind, while the pictures would remain + impressed on the brain, and thus science would, so to say, be made + visible. What could be more simple than to teach universal history, + natural history, geography, botany, zoology, anatomy, etc., etc., in this + manner? + </p> + <p> + He had his ideas printed in pamphlets, and sent a copy to each deputy, ten + to each minister, fifty to the President of the Republic, ten to each + Parisian, and five to each provincial newspaper. + </p> + <p> + Then he wrote on “Street Lending-Libraries.” His idea was to + have little pushcarts full of books drawn about the streets. Everyone + would have a right to ten volumes a month in his home on payment of one + sou. + </p> + <p> + “The people,” M. Caillard said, “will only disturb + itself for the sake of its pleasures, and since it will not go to + instruction, instruction must come to it,” etc., etc. + </p> + <p> + His essays attracted no attention, but he sent in his application, and he + got the usual formal official reply. He thought himself sure of success, + but nothing came of it. + </p> + <p> + Then he made up his mind to apply personally. He begged for an interview + with the Minister of Public Instruction, and he was received by a young + subordinate, who was very grave and important, and kept touching the knobs + of electric bells to summon ushers, and footmen, and officials inferior to + himself. He declared to M. Caillard that his matter was going on quite + favorably, and advised him to continue his remarkable labors, and M. + Caillard set at it again. + </p> + <p> + M. Rosselin, the deputy, seemed now to take a great interest in his + success, and gave him a lot of excellent, practical advice. He, himself, + was decorated, although nobody knew exactly what he had done to deserve + such a distinction. + </p> + <p> + He told Caillard what new studies he ought to undertake; he introduced him + to learned societies which took up particularly obscure points of science, + in the hope of gaining credit and honors thereby; and he even took him + under his wing at the ministry. + </p> + <p> + One day, when he came to lunch with his friend—for several months + past he had constantly taken his meals there—he said to him in a + whisper as he shook hands: “I have just obtained a great favor for + you. The Committee of Historical Works is going to intrust you with a + commission. There are some researches to be made in various libraries in + France.” + </p> + <p> + Caillard was so delighted that he could scarcely eat or drink, and a week + later he set out. He went from town to town, studying catalogues, + rummaging in lofts full of dusty volumes, and was hated by all the + librarians. + </p> + <p> + One day, happening to be at Rouen, he thought he should like to go and + visit his wife, whom he had not seen for more than a week, so he took the + nine o'clock train, which would land him at home by twelve at night. + </p> + <p> + He had his latchkey, so he went in without making any noise, delighted at + the idea of the surprise he was going to give her. She had locked herself + in. How tiresome! However, he cried out through the door: + </p> + <p> + “Jeanne, it is I!” + </p> + <p> + She must have been very frightened, for he heard her jump out of her bed + and speak to herself, as if she were in a dream. Then she went to her + dressing room, opened and closed the door, and went quickly up and down + her room barefoot two or three times, shaking the furniture till the vases + and glasses sounded. Then at last she asked: + </p> + <p> + “Is it you, Alexander?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes,” he replied; “make haste and open the door.” + </p> + <p> + As soon as she had done so, she threw herself into his arms, exclaiming: + </p> + <p> + “Oh, what a fright! What a surprise! What a pleasure!” + </p> + <p> + He began to undress himself methodically, as he did everything, and took + from a chair his overcoat, which he was in the habit of hanging up in the + hall. But suddenly he remained motionless, struck dumb with astonishment—there + was a red ribbon in the buttonhole: + </p> + <p> + “Why,” he stammered, “this—this—this + overcoat has got the ribbon in it!” + </p> + <p> + In a second, his wife threw herself on him, and, taking it from his hands, + she said: + </p> + <p> + “No! you have made a mistake—give it to me.” + </p> + <p> + But he still held it by one of the sleeves, without letting it go, + repeating in a half-dazed manner: + </p> + <p> + “Oh! Why? Just explain—Whose overcoat is it? It is not mine, + as it has the Legion of Honor on it.” + </p> + <p> + She tried to take it from him, terrified and hardly able to say: + </p> + <p> + “Listen—listen! Give it to me! I must not tell you! It is a + secret. Listen to me!” + </p> + <p> + But he grew angry and turned pale. + </p> + <p> + “I want to know how this overcoat comes to be here? It does not + belong to me.” + </p> + <p> + Then she almost screamed at him: + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it does; listen! Swear to me—well—you are + decorated!” + </p> + <p> + She did not intend to joke at his expense. + </p> + <p> + He was so overcome that he let the overcoat fall and dropped into an + armchair. + </p> + <p> + “I am—you say I am—decorated?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but it is a secret, a great secret.” + </p> + <p> + She had put the glorious garment into a cupboard, and came to her husband + pale and trembling. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she continued, “it is a new overcoat that I have + had made for you. But I swore that I would not tell you anything about it, + as it will not be officially announced for a month or six weeks, and you + were not to have known till your return from your business journey. M. + Rosselin managed it for you.” + </p> + <p> + “Rosselin!” he contrived to utter in his joy. “He has + obtained the decoration for me? He—Oh!” + </p> + <p> + And he was obliged to drink a glass of water. + </p> + <p> + A little piece of white paper fell to the floor out of the pocket of the + overcoat. Caillard picked it up; it was a visiting card, and he read out: + </p> + <p> + “Rosselin-Deputy.” + </p> + <p> + “You see how it is,” said his wife. + </p> + <p> + He almost cried with joy, and, a week later, it was announced in the + Journal Officiel that M. Caillard had been awarded the Legion of Honor on + account of his exceptional services. + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0117"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + THE TEST + </h2> + <p> + The Bondels were a happy family, and although they frequently quarrelled + about trifles, they soon became friends again. + </p> + <p> + Bondel was a merchant who had retired from active business after saving + enough to allow him to live quietly; he had rented a little house at + Saint-Germain and lived there with his wife. He was a quiet man with very + decided opinions; he had a certain degree of education and read serious + newspapers; nevertheless, he appreciated the gaulois wit. Endowed with a + logical mind, and that practical common sense which is the master quality + of the industrial French bourgeois, he thought little, but clearly, and + reached a decision only after careful consideration of the matter in hand. + He was of medium size, with a distinguished look, and was beginning to + turn gray. + </p> + <p> + His wife, who was full of serious qualities, had also several faults. She + had a quick temper and a frankness that bordered upon violence. She bore a + grudge a long time. She had once been pretty, but had now become too stout + and too red; but in her neighborhood at Saint-Germain she still passed for + a very beautiful woman, who exemplified health and an uncertain temper. + </p> + <p> + Their dissensions almost always began at breakfast, over some trivial + matter, and they often continued all day and even until the following day. + Their simple, common, limited life imparted seriousness to the most + unimportant matters, and every topic of conversation became a subject of + dispute. This had not been so in the days when business occupied their + minds, drew their hearts together, and gave them common interests and + occupation. + </p> + <p> + But at Saint-Germain they saw fewer people. It had been necessary to make + new acquaintances, to create for themselves a new world among strangers, a + new existence devoid of occupations. Then the monotony of loneliness had + soured each of them a little; and the quiet happiness which they had hoped + and waited for with the coming of riches did not appear. + </p> + <p> + One June morning, just as they were sitting down to breakfast, Bondel + asked: + </p> + <p> + “Do you know the people who live in the little red cottage at the + end of the Rue du Berceau?” + </p> + <p> + Madame Bondel was out of sorts. She answered: + </p> + <p> + “Yes and no; I am acquainted with them, but I do not care to know + them.” + </p> + <p> + “Why not? They seem to be very nice.” + </p> + <p> + “Because—” + </p> + <p> + “This morning I met the husband on the terrace and we took a little + walk together.” + </p> + <p> + Seeing that there was danger in the air, Bendel added: “It was he + who spoke to me first.” + </p> + <p> + His wife looked at him in a displeased manner. She continued: “You + would have done just as well to avoid him.” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” + </p> + <p> + “Because there are rumors about them.” + </p> + <p> + “What kind?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! rumors such as one often hears!” + </p> + <p> + M. Bondel was, unfortunately, a little hasty. He exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “My dear, you know that I abhor gossip. As for those people, I find + them very pleasant.” + </p> + <p> + She asked testily: “The wife also?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes; although I have barely seen her.” + </p> + <p> + The discussion gradually grew more heated, always on the same subject for + lack of others. Madame Bondel obstinately refused to say what she had + heard about these neighbors, allowing things to be understood without + saying exactly what they were. Bendel would shrug his shoulders, grin, and + exasperate his wife. She finally cried out: “Well! that gentleman is + deceived by his wife, there!” + </p> + <p> + The husband answered quietly: “I can't see how that affects the + honor of a man.” + </p> + <p> + She seemed dumfounded: “What! you don't see?—you don't see?—well, + that's too much! You don't see!—why, it's a public scandal! he is + disgraced!” + </p> + <p> + He answered: “Ah! by no means! Should a man be considered disgraced + because he is deceived, because he is betrayed, robbed? No, indeed! I'll + grant you that that may be the case for the wife, but as for him—” + </p> + <p> + She became furious, exclaiming: “For him as well as for her. They + are both in disgrace; it's a public shame.” + </p> + <p> + Bondel, very calm, asked: “First of all, is it true? Who can assert + such a thing as long as no one has been caught in the act?” + </p> + <p> + Madame Bondel was growing uneasy; she snapped: “What? Who can assert + it? Why, everybody! everybody! it's as clear as the nose on your face. + Everybody knows it and is talking about it. There is not the slightest + doubt.” + </p> + <p> + He was grinning: “For a long time people thought that the sun + revolved around the earth. This man loves his wife and speaks of her + tenderly and reverently. This whole business is nothing but lies!” + </p> + <p> + Stamping her foot, she stammered: “Do you think that that fool, that + idiot, knows anything about it?” + </p> + <p> + Bondel did not grow angry; he was reasoning clearly: “Excuse me. + This gentleman is no fool. He seemed to me, on the contrary, to be very + intelligent and shrewd; and you can't make me believe that a man with + brains doesn't notice such a thing in his own house, when the neighbors, + who are not there, are ignorant of no detail of this liaison—for + I'll warrant that they know everything.” + </p> + <p> + Madame Bondel had a fit of angry mirth, which irritated her husband's + nerves. She laughed: “Ha! ha! ha! they're all the same! There's not + a man alive who could discover a thing like that unless his nose was stuck + into it!” + </p> + <p> + The discussion was wandering to other topics now. She was exclaiming over + the blindness of deceived husbands, a thing which he doubted and which she + affirmed with such airs of personal contempt that he finally grew angry. + Then the discussion became an angry quarrel, where she took the side of + the women and he defended the men. He had the conceit to declare: “Well, + I swear that if I had ever been deceived, I should have noticed it, and + immediately, too. And I should have taken away your desire for such things + in such a manner that it would have taken more than one doctor to set you + on foot again!” + </p> + <p> + Boiling with anger, she cried out to him: “You! you! why, you're as + big a fool as the others, do you hear!” + </p> + <p> + He still maintained: “I can swear to you that I am not!” + </p> + <p> + She laughed so impertinently that he felt his heart beat and a chill run + down his back. For the third time he said: + </p> + <p> + “I should have seen it!” + </p> + <p> + She rose, still laughing in the same manner. She slammed the door and left + the room, saying: “Well! if that isn't too much!” + </p> + <p> + Bondel remained alone, ill at ease. That insolent, provoking laugh had + touched him to the quick. He went outside, walked, dreamed. The + realization of the loneliness of his new life made him sad and morbid. The + neighbor, whom he had met that morning, came to him with outstretched + hands. They continued their walk together. After touching on various + subjects they came to talk of their wives. Both seemed to have something + to confide, something inexpressible, vague, about these beings associated + with their lives; their wives. The neighbor was saying: + </p> + <p> + “Really, at times, one might think that they bear some particular + ill-will toward their husband, just because he is a husband. I love my + wife—I love her very much; I appreciate and respect her; well! there + are times when she seems to have more confidence and faith in our friends + than in me.” + </p> + <p> + Bondel immediately thought: “There is no doubt; my wife was right!” + </p> + <p> + When he left this man he began to think things over again. He felt in his + soul a strange confusion of contradictory ideas, a sort of interior + burning; that mocking, impertinent laugh kept ringing in his ears and + seemed to say: “Why; you are just the same as the others, you fool!” + That was indeed bravado, one of those pieces of impudence of which a woman + makes use when she dares everything, risks everything, to wound and + humiliate the man who has aroused her ire. This poor man must also be one + of those deceived husbands, like so many others. He had said sadly: + “There are times when she seems to have more confidence and faith in + our friends than in me.” That is how a husband formulated his + observations on the particular attentions of his wife for another man. + That was all. He had seen nothing more. He was like the rest—all the + rest! + </p> + <p> + And how strangely Bondel's own wife had laughed as she said: “You, + too —you, too.” How wild and imprudent these creatures are who + can arouse such suspicions in the heart for the sole purpose of revenge! + </p> + <p> + He ran over their whole life since their marriage, reviewed his mental + list of their acquaintances, to see whether she had ever appeared to show + more confidence in any one else than in himself. He never had suspected + any one, he was so calm, so sure of her, so confident. + </p> + <p> + But, now he thought of it, she had had a friend, an intimate friend, who + for almost a year had dined with them three times a week. Tancret, good + old Tancret, whom he, Bendel, loved as a brother and whom he continued to + see on the sly, since his wife, he did not know why, had grown angry at + the charming fellow. + </p> + <p> + He stopped to think, looking over the past with anxious eyes. Then he grew + angry at himself for harboring this shameful insinuation of the defiant, + jealous, bad ego which lives in all of us. He blamed and accused himself + when he remembered the visits and the demeanor of this friend whom his + wife had dismissed for no apparent reason. But, suddenly, other memories + returned to him, similar ruptures due to the vindictive character of + Madame Bondel, who never pardoned a slight. Then he laughed frankly at + himself for the doubts which he had nursed; and he remembered the angry + looks of his wife as he would tell her, when he returned at night: “I + saw good old Tancret, and he wished to be remembered to you,” and he + reassured himself. + </p> + <p> + She would invariably answer: “When you see that gentleman you can + tell him that I can very well dispense with his remembrances.” With + what an irritated, angry look she would say these words! How well one + could feel that she did not and would not forgive—and he had + suspected her even for a second? Such foolishness! + </p> + <p> + But why did she grow so angry? She never had given the exact reason for + this quarrel. She still bore him that grudge! Was it?—But no—no—and + Bondel declared that he was lowering himself by even thinking of such + things. + </p> + <p> + Yes, he was undoubtedly lowering himself, but he could not help thinking + of it, and he asked himself with terror if this thought which had entered + into his mind had not come to stop, if he did not carry in his heart the + seed of fearful torment. He knew himself; he was a man to think over his + doubts, as formerly he would ruminate over his commercial operations, for + days and nights, endlessly weighing the pros and the cons. + </p> + <p> + He was already becoming excited; he was walking fast and losing his + calmness. A thought cannot be downed. It is intangible, cannot be caught, + cannot be killed. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly a plan occurred to him; it was bold, so bold that at first he + doubted whether he would carry it out. + </p> + <p> + Each time that he met Tancret, his friend would ask for news of Madame + Bondel, and Bondel would answer: “She is still a little angry.” + Nothing more. Good Lord! What a fool he had been! Perhaps! + </p> + <p> + Well, he would take the train to Paris, go to Tancret, and bring him back + with him that very evening, assuring him that his wife's mysterious anger + had disappeared. But how would Madame Bondel act? What a scene there would + be! What anger! what scandal! What of it?—that would be revenge! + When she should come face to face with him, unexpectedly, he certainly + ought to be able to read the truth in their expressions. + </p> + <p> + He immediately went to the station, bought his ticket, got into the car, + and as soon as he felt him self being carried away by the train, he felt a + fear, a kind of dizziness, at what he was going to do. In order not to + weaken, back down, and return alone, he tried not to think of the matter + any longer, to bring his mind to bear on other affairs, to do what he had + decided to do with a blind resolution; and he began to hum tunes from + operettas and music halls until he reached Paris. + </p> + <p> + As soon as he found himself walking along the streets that led to + Tancret's, he felt like stopping, He paused in front of several shops, + noticed the prices of certain objects, was interested in new things, felt + like taking a glass of beer, which was not his usual custom; and as he + approached his friend's dwelling he ardently hoped not meet him. But + Tancret was at home, alone, reading. He jumped up in surprise, crying: + “Ah! Bondel! what luck!” + </p> + <p> + Bondel, embarrassed, answered: “Yes, my dear fellow, I happened to + be in Paris, and I thought I'd drop in and shake hands with you.” + </p> + <p> + “That's very nice, very nice! The more so that for some time you + have not favored me with your presence very often.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you see—even against one's will, one is often + influenced by surrounding conditions, and as my wife seemed to bear you + some ill-will” + </p> + <p> + “Jove! 'seemed'—she did better than that, since she showed me + the door.” + </p> + <p> + “What was the reason? I never heard it.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! nothing at all—a bit of foolishness—a discussion in + which we did not both agree.” + </p> + <p> + “But what was the subject of this discussion?” + </p> + <p> + “A lady of my acquaintance, whom you may perhaps know by name, + Madame Boutin.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! really. Well, I think that my wife has forgotten her grudge, + for this very morning she spoke to me of you in very pleasant terms.” + </p> + <p> + Tancret started and seemed so dumfounded that for a few minutes he could + find nothing to say. Then he asked: “She spoke of me—in + pleasant terms?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “You are sure?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course I am. I am not dreaming.” + </p> + <p> + “And then?” + </p> + <p> + “And then—as I was coming to Paris I thought that I would + please you by coming to tell you the good news.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes—why, yes—” + </p> + <p> + Bondel appeared to hesitate; then, after a short pause, he added: “I + even had an idea.” + </p> + <p> + “What is it?” + </p> + <p> + “To take you back home with me to dinner.” + </p> + <p> + Tancret, who was naturally prudent, seemed a little worried by this + proposition, and he asked: “Oh! really—is it possible? Are we + not exposing ourselves to—to—a scene?” + </p> + <p> + “No, no, indeed!” + </p> + <p> + “Because, you know, Madame Bendel bears malice for a long time.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but I can assure you that she no longer bears you any ill—will. + I am even convinced that it will be a great pleasure for her to see you + thus, unexpectedly.” + </p> + <p> + “Really?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, really!” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then! let us go along. I am delighted. You see, this + misunderstanding was very unpleasant for me.” + </p> + <p> + They set out together toward the Saint-Lazare station, arm in arm. They + made the trip in silence. Both seemed absorbed in deep meditation. Seated + in the car, one opposite the other, they looked at each other without + speaking, each observing that the other was pale. + </p> + <p> + Then they left the train and once more linked arms as if to unite against + some common danger. After a walk of a few minutes they stopped, a little + out of breath, before Bondel's house. Bondel ushered his friend into the + parlor, called the servant, and asked: “Is madame at home?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + “Please ask her to come down at once.” + </p> + <p> + They dropped into two armchairs and waited. Both were filled with the same + longing to escape before the appearance of the much-feared person. + </p> + <p> + A well-known, heavy tread could be heard descending the stairs. A hand + moved the knob, and both men watched the brass handle turn. Then the door + opened wide, and Madame Bondel stopped and looked to see who was there + before she entered. She looked, blushed, trembled, retreated a step, then + stood motionless, her cheeks aflame and her hands resting against the + sides of the door frame. + </p> + <p> + Tancret, as pale as if about to faint, had arisen, letting fall his hat, + which rolled along the floor. He stammered out: “Mon Dieu—madame—it + is I—I thought—I ventured—I was so sorry—” + </p> + <p> + As she did not answer, he continued: “Will you forgive me?” + </p> + <p> + Then, quickly, carried away by some impulse, she walked toward him with + her hands outstretched; and when he had taken, pressed, and held these two + hands, she said, in a trembling, weak little voice, which was new to her + husband: + </p> + <p> + “Ah! my dear friend—how happy I am!” + </p> + <p> + And Bondel, who was watching them, felt an icy chill run over him, as if + he had been dipped in a cold bath. + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0118"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + FOUND ON A DROWNED MAN + </h2> + <p> + Madame, you ask me whether I am laughing at you? You cannot believe that a + man has never been in love. Well, then, no, no, I have never loved, never! + </p> + <p> + Why is this? I really cannot tell. I have never experienced that + intoxication of the heart which we call love! Never have I lived in that + dream, in that exaltation, in that state of madness into which the image + of a woman casts us. I have never been pursued, haunted, roused to fever + heat, lifted up to Paradise by the thought of meeting, or by the + possession of, a being who had suddenly become for me more desirable than + any good fortune, more beautiful than any other creature, of more + consequence than the whole world! I have never wept, I have never suffered + on account of any of you. I have not passed my nights sleepless, while + thinking of her. I have no experience of waking thoughts bright with + thought and memories of her. I have never known the wild rapture of hope + before her arrival, or the divine sadness of regret when she went from me, + leaving behind her a delicate odor of violet powder. + </p> + <p> + I have never been in love. + </p> + <p> + I have also often asked myself why this is. And truly I can scarcely tell. + Nevertheless I have found some reasons for it; but they are of a + metaphysical character, and perhaps you will not be able to appreciate + them. + </p> + <p> + I suppose I am too critical of women to submit to their fascination. I ask + you to forgive me for this remark. I will explain what I mean. In every + creature there is a moral being and a physical being. In order to love, it + would be necessary for me to find a harmony between these two beings which + I have never found. One always predominates; sometimes the moral, + sometimes the physical. + </p> + <p> + The intellect which we have a right to require in a woman, in order to + love her, is not the same as the virile intellect. It is more, and it is + less. A woman must be frank, delicate, sensitive, refined, impressionable. + She has no need of either power or initiative in thought, but she must + have kindness, elegance, tenderness, coquetry and that faculty of + assimilation which, in a little while, raises her to an equality with him + who shares her life. Her greatest quality must be tact, that subtle sense + which is to the mind what touch is to the body. It reveals to her a + thousand little things, contours, angles and forms on the plane of the + intellectual. + </p> + <p> + Very frequently pretty women have not intellect to correspond with their + personal charms. Now, the slightest lack of harmony strikes me and pains + me at the first glance. In friendship this is not of importance. + Friendship is a compact in which one fairly shares defects and merits. We + may judge of friends, whether man or woman, giving them credit for what is + good, and overlooking what is bad in them, appreciating them at their just + value, while giving ourselves up to an intimate, intense and charming + sympathy. + </p> + <p> + In order to love, one must be blind, surrender one's self absolutely, see + nothing, question nothing, understand nothing. One must adore the weakness + as well as the beauty of the beloved object, renounce all judgment, all + reflection, all perspicacity. + </p> + <p> + I am incapable of such blindness and rebel at unreasoning subjugation. + This is not all. I have such a high and subtle idea of harmony that + nothing can ever fulfill my ideal. But you will call me a madman. Listen + to me. A woman, in my opinion, may have an exquisite soul and charming + body without that body and that soul being in perfect harmony with one + another. I mean that persons who have noses made in a certain shape should + not be expected to think in a certain fashion. The fat have no right to + make use of the same words and phrases as the thin. You, who have blue + eyes, madame, cannot look at life and judge of things and events as if you + had black eyes. The shade of your eyes should correspond, by a sort of + fatality, with the shade of your thought. In perceiving these things, I + have the scent of a bloodhound. Laugh if you like, but it is so. + </p> + <p> + And yet, once I imagined that I was in love for an hour, for a day. I had + foolishly yielded to the influence of surrounding circumstances. I allowed + myself to be beguiled by a mirage of Dawn. Would you like me to tell you + this short story? + </p> + <p> + I met, one evening, a pretty, enthusiastic little woman who took a poetic + fancy to spend a night with me in a boat on a river. I would have + preferred a room and a bed; however, I consented to the river and the + boat. + </p> + <p> + It was in the month of June. My fair companion chose a moonlight night in + order the better to stimulate her imagination. + </p> + <p> + We had dined at a riverside inn and set out in the boat about ten o'clock. + I thought it a rather foolish kind of adventure, but as my companion + pleased me I did not worry about it. I sat down on the seat facing her; I + seized the oars, and off we starred. + </p> + <p> + I could not deny that the scene was picturesque. We glided past a wooded + isle full of nightingales, and the current carried us rapidly over the + river covered with silvery ripples. The tree toads uttered their shrill, + monotonous cry; the frogs croaked in the grass by the river's bank, and + the lapping of the water as it flowed on made around us a kind of confused + murmur almost imperceptible, disquieting, and gave us a vague sensation of + mysterious fear. + </p> + <p> + The sweet charm of warm nights and of streams glittering in the moonlight + penetrated us. It was delightful to be alive and to float along thus, and + to dream and to feel at one's side a sympathetic and beautiful young + woman. + </p> + <p> + I was somewhat affected, somewhat agitated, somewhat intoxicated by the + pale brightness of the night and the consciousness of my proximity to a + lovely woman. + </p> + <p> + “Come and sit beside me,” she said. + </p> + <p> + I obeyed. + </p> + <p> + She went on: + </p> + <p> + “Recite some poetry for me.” + </p> + <p> + This appeared to be rather too much. I declined; she persisted. She + certainly wanted to play the game, to have a whole orchestra of sentiment, + from the moon to the rhymes of poets. In the end I had to yield, and, as + if in mockery, I repeated to her a charming little poem by Louis Bouilhet, + of which the following are the last verses: + </p> +<div class='pre'> + “I hate the poet who with tearful eye + Murmurs some name while gazing tow'rds a star, + Who sees no magic in the earth or sky, + Unless Lizette or Ninon be not far. + + “The bard who in all Nature nothing sees + Divine, unless a petticoat he ties + Amorously to the branches of the trees + Or nightcap to the grass, is scarcely wise. + + “He has not heard the Eternal's thunder tone, + The voice of Nature in her various moods, + Who cannot tread the dim ravines alone, + And of no woman dream mid whispering woods.” + </div> + <p> + I expected some reproaches. Nothing of the sort. She murmured: + </p> + <p> + “How true it is!” + </p> + <p> + I was astonished. Had she understood? + </p> + <p> + Our boat had gradually approached the bank and become entangled in the + branches of a willow which impeded its progress. I placed my arm round my + companion's waist, and very gently approached my lips towards her neck. + But she repulsed me with an abrupt, angry movement. + </p> + <p> + “Have done, pray! How rude you are!” + </p> + <p> + I tried to draw her toward me. She resisted, caught hold of the tree, and + was near flinging us both into the water. I deemed it prudent to cease my + importunities. + </p> + <p> + She said: + </p> + <p> + “I would rather capsize you. I feel so happy. I want to dream. This + is so delightful.” Then, in a slightly malicious tone, she added: + </p> + <p> + “Have you already forgotten the verses you repeated to me just now?” + </p> + <p> + She was right. I became silent. + </p> + <p> + She went on: + </p> + <p> + “Come, now!” + </p> + <p> + And I plied the oars once more. + </p> + <p> + I began to think the night long and my position ridiculous. + </p> + <p> + My companion said to me: + </p> + <p> + “Will you make me a promise?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. What is it?” + </p> + <p> + “To remain quiet, well-behaved and discreet, if I permit you—” + </p> + <p> + “What? Say what you mean!” + </p> + <p> + “Here is what I mean: I want to lie down on my back at the bottom of + the boat with you by my side. But I forbid you to touch me, to embrace me + —in short—to caress me.” + </p> + <p> + I promised. She said warningly: + </p> + <p> + “If you move, 'I'll capsize the boat.” + </p> + <p> + And then we lay down side by side, our eyes turned toward the sky, while + the boat glided slowly through the water. We were rocked by its gentle + motion. The slight sounds of the night came to us more distinctly in the + bottom of the boat, sometimes causing us to start. And I felt springing up + within me a strange, poignant emotion, an infinite tenderness, something + like an irresistible impulse to open my arms in order to embrace, to open + my heart in order to love, to give myself, to give my thoughts, my body, + my life, my entire being to some one. + </p> + <p> + My companion murmured, like one in a dream: + </p> + <p> + “Where are we; Where are we going? It seems to me that I am leaving + the earth. How sweet it is! Ah, if you loved me—a little!!!” + </p> + <p> + My heart began to throb. I had no answer to give. It seemed to me that I + loved her. I had no longer any violent desire. I felt happy there by her + side, and that was enough for me. + </p> + <p> + And thus we remained for a long, long time without stirring. We had + clasped each other's hands; some delightful force rendered us motionless, + an unknown force stronger than ourselves, an alliance, chaste, intimate, + absolute, of our beings lying there side by side, belonging to each other + without contact. What was this? How do I know? Love, perhaps? + </p> + <p> + Little by little the dawn appeared. It was three o'clock in the morning. + Slowly a great brightness spread over the sky. The boat knocked up against + something. I rose up. We had come close to a tiny islet. + </p> + <p> + But I remained enchanted, in an ecstasy. Before us stretched the + firmament, red, pink, violet, spotted with fiery clouds resembling golden + vapor. The river was glowing with purple and three houses on one side of + it seemed to be burning. + </p> + <p> + I bent toward my companion. I was going to say, “Oh! look!” + But I held my tongue, quite dazed, and I could no longer see anything + except her. She, too, was rosy, with rosy flesh tints with a deeper tinge + that was partly a reflection of the hue of the sky. Her tresses were rosy; + her eyes were rosy; her teeth were rosy; her dress, her laces, her smile, + all were rosy. And in truth I believed, so overpowering was the illusion, + that the dawn was there in the flesh before me. + </p> + <p> + She rose softly to her feet, holding out her lips to me; and I moved + toward her, trembling, delirious feeling indeed that I was going to kiss + Heaven, to kiss happiness, to kiss a dream that had become a woman, to + kiss the ideal which had descended into human flesh. + </p> + <p> + She said to me: “You have a caterpillar in your hair.” And, + suddenly, I felt as sad as if I had lost all hope in life. + </p> + <p> + That is all, madame. It is puerile, silly, stupid. But I am sure that + since that day it would be impossible for me to love. And yet—who + can tell? + </p> + <p> + [The young man upon whom this letter was found was yesterday taken out of + the Seine between Bougival and Marly. An obliging bargeman, who had + searched the pockets in order to ascertain the name of the deceased, + brought this paper to the author.] + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0119"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + THE ORPHAN + </h2> + <p> + Mademoiselle Source had adopted this boy under very sad circumstances. She + was at the time thirty-six years old. Being disfigured through having as a + child slipped off her nurse's lap into the fireplace and burned her face + shockingly, she had determined not to marry, for she did not want any man + to marry her for her money. + </p> + <p> + A neighbor of hers, left a widow just before her child was born, died in + giving birth, without leaving a sou. Mademoiselle Source took the new-born + child, put him out to nurse, reared him, sent him to a boarding-school, + then brought him home in his fourteenth year, in order to have in her + empty house somebody who would love her, who would look after her, and + make her old age pleasant. + </p> + <p> + She had a little country place four leagues from Rennes, and she now + dispensed with a servant; her expenses having increased to more than + double since this orphan's arrival, her income of three thousand francs + was no longer sufficient to support three persons. + </p> + <p> + She attended to the housekeeping and cooking herself, and sent out the boy + on errands, letting him also occupy himself in cultivating the garden. He + was gentle, timid, silent, and affectionate. And she experienced a deep + happiness, a fresh happiness when he kissed her without surprise or horror + at her disfigurement. He called her “Aunt,” and treated her as + a mother. + </p> + <p> + In the evening they both sat down at the fireside, and she made nice + little dainties for him. She heated some wine and toasted a slice of + bread, and it made a charming little meal before going to bed. She often + took him on her knees and covered him with kisses, murmuring tender words + in his ear. She called him: “My little flower, my cherub, my adored + angel, my divine jewel.” He softly accepted her caresses, hiding his + head on the old maid's shoulder. Although he was now nearly fifteen, he + had remained small and weak, and had a rather sickly appearance. + </p> + <p> + Sometimes Mademoiselle Source took him to the city, to see two married + female relatives of hers, distant cousins, who were living in the suburbs, + and who were the only members of her family in existence. The two women + had always found fault with her, for having adopted this boy, on account + of the inheritance; but for all that, they gave her a cordial welcome, + having still hopes of getting a share for themselves, a third, no doubt, + if what she possessed were only equally divided. + </p> + <p> + She was happy, very happy, always occupied with her adopted child. She + bought books for him to improve his mind, and he became passionately fond + of reading. + </p> + <p> + He no longer climbed on her knee to pet her as he had formerly done; but, + instead, would go and sit down in his little chair in the chimney-corner + and open a volume. The lamp placed at the edge of the Tittle table above + his head shone on his curly hair, and on a portion of his forehead; he did + not move, he did not raise his eyes or make any gesture. He read on, + interested, entirely absorbed in the story he was reading. + </p> + <p> + Seated opposite to him, she would gaze at him earnestly, astonished at his + studiousness, often on the point of bursting into tears. + </p> + <p> + She said to him occasionally: “You will fatigue yourself, my + treasure!” hoping that he would raise his head, and come across to + embrace her; but he did not even answer her; he had not heard or + understood what she was saying; he paid no attention to anything save what + he read in those pages. + </p> + <p> + For two years he devoured an incalculable number of volumes. His character + changed. + </p> + <p> + After this, he asked Mademoiselle Source several times for money, which + she gave him. As he always wanted more, she ended by refusing, for she was + both methodical and decided, and knew how to act rationally when it was + necessary to do so. By dint of entreaties he obtained a large sum from her + one night; but when he begged her for more a few days later, she showed + herself inflexible, and did not give way to him further, in fact. + </p> + <p> + He appeared to be satisfied with her decision. + </p> + <p> + He again became quiet, as he had formerly been, remaining seated for + entire hours, without moving, plunged in deep reverie. He now did not even + talk to Madame Source, merely answering her remarks with short, formal + words. Nevertheless, he was agreeable and attentive in his manner toward + her; but he never embraced her now. + </p> + <p> + She had by this time grown slightly afraid of him when they sat facing one + another at night on opposite sides of the fireplace. She wanted to wake + him up, to make him say something, no matter what, that would break this + dreadful silence, which was like the darkness of a wood. But he did not + appear to listen to her, and she shuddered with the terror of a poor + feeble woman when she had spoken to him five or six times successively + without being able to get a word out of him. + </p> + <p> + What was the matter with him? What was going on in that closed-up head? + When she had remained thus two or three hours opposite him, she felt as if + she were going insane, and longed to rush away and to escape into the open + country in order to avoid that mute, eternal companionship and also some + vague danger, which she could not define, but of which she had a + presentiment. + </p> + <p> + She frequently wept when she was alone. What was the matter with him? When + she expressed a wish, he unmurmuringly carried it into execution. When she + wanted anything brought from the city, he immediately went there to + procure it. She had no complaint to make of him; no, indeed! And yet— + </p> + <p> + Another year flitted by, and it seemed to her that a fresh change had + taken place in the mind of the young man. She perceived it; she felt it; + she divined it. How? No matter! She was sure she was not mistaken; but she + could not have explained in what manner the unknown thoughts of this + strange youth had changed. + </p> + <p> + It seemed to her that, until now, he had been like a person in a + hesitating frame of mind, who had suddenly arrived at a determination. + This idea came to her one evening as she met his glance, a fixed, singular + glance which she had not seen in his face before. + </p> + <p> + Then he commenced to watch her incessantly, and she wished she could hide + herself in order to avoid that cold eye riveted on her. + </p> + <p> + He kept staring at her, evening after evening, for hours together, only + averting his eyes when she said, utterly unnerved: + </p> + <p> + “Do not look at me like that, my child!” + </p> + <p> + Then he would lower his head. + </p> + <p> + But the moment her back was turned she once more felt that his eyes were + upon her. Wherever she went, he pursued her with his persistent gaze. + </p> + <p> + Sometimes, when she was walking in her little garden, she suddenly noticed + him hidden behind a bush, as if he were lying in wait for her; and, again, + when she sat in front of the house mending stockings while he was digging + some vegetable bed, he kept continually watching her in a surreptitious + manner, as he worked. + </p> + <p> + It was in vain that she asked him: + </p> + <p> + “What's the matter with you, my boy? For the last three years, you + have become very different. I don't recognize you. Do tell me what ails + you, and what you are thinking of.” + </p> + <p> + He invariably replied, in a quiet, weary tone: + </p> + <p> + “Why, nothing ails me, aunt!” + </p> + <p> + And when she persisted: + </p> + <p> + “Ah! my child, answer me, answer me when I speak to you. If you knew + what grief you caused me, you would always answer, and you would not look + at me that way. Have you any trouble? Tell me! I'll comfort you!” + </p> + <p> + He went away, with a tired air, murmuring: + </p> + <p> + “But there is nothing the matter with me, I assure you.” + </p> + <p> + He had not grown much, having always a childish look, although his + features were those of a man. They were, however, hard and badly cut. He + seemed incomplete, abortive, only half finished, and disquieting as a + mystery. He was a self-contained, unapproachable being, in whom there + seemed always to be some active, dangerous mental labor going on. + Mademoiselle Source was quite conscious of all this, and she could not + sleep at night, so great was her anxiety. Frightful terrors, dreadful + nightmares assailed her. She shut herself up in her own room, and + barricaded the door, tortured by fear. + </p> + <p> + What was she afraid of? She could not tell. + </p> + <p> + She feared everything, the night, the walls, the shadows thrown by the + moon on the white curtains of the windows, and, above all, she feared him. + </p> + <p> + Why? + </p> + <p> + What had she to fear? Did she know what it was? + </p> + <p> + She could live this way no longer! She felt certain that a misfortune + threatened her, a frightful misfortune. + </p> + <p> + She set forth secretly one morning, and went into the city to see her + relatives. She told them about the matter in a gasping voice. The two + women thought she was going mad and tried to reassure her. + </p> + <p> + She said: + </p> + <p> + “If you knew the way he looks at me from morning till night. He + never takes his eyes off me! At times, I feel a longing to cry for help, + to call in the neighbors, so much am I afraid. But what could I say to + them? He does nothing but look at me.” + </p> + <p> + The two female cousins asked: + </p> + <p> + “Is he ever brutal to you? Does he give you sharp answers?” + </p> + <p> + She replied: + </p> + <p> + “No, never; he does everything I wish; he works hard: he is steady; + but I am so frightened that I care nothing for that. He is planning + something, I am certain of that—quite certain. I don't care to + remain all alone like that with him in the country.” + </p> + <p> + The relatives, astonished at her words, declared that people would be + amazed, would not understand; and they advised her to keep silent about + her fears and her plans, without, however, dissuading her from coming to + reside in the city, hoping in that way that the entire inheritance would + eventually fall into their hands. + </p> + <p> + They even promised to assist her in selling her house, and in finding + another, near them. + </p> + <p> + Mademoiselle Source returned home. But her mind was so much upset that she + trembled at the slightest noise, and her hands shook whenever any trifling + disturbance agitated her. + </p> + <p> + Twice she went again to consult her relatives, quite determined now not to + remain any longer in this way in her lonely dwelling. At last, she found a + little cottage in the suburbs, which suited her, and she privately bought + it. + </p> + <p> + The signature of the contract took place on a Tuesday morning, and + Mademoiselle Source devoted the rest of the day to the preparations for + her change of residence. + </p> + <p> + At eight o'clock in the evening she got into the diligence which passed + within a few hundred yards of her house, and she told the conductor to put + her down in the place where she usually alighted. The man called out to + her as he whipped his horses: + </p> + <p> + “Good evening, Mademoiselle Source—good night!” + </p> + <p> + She replied as she walked on: + </p> + <p> + “Good evening, Pere Joseph.” Next morning, at half-past seven, + the postman who conveyed letters to the village noticed at the cross-road, + not far from the high road, a large splash of blood not yet dry. He said + to himself: “Hallo! some boozer must have had a nose bleed.” + </p> + <p> + But he perceived ten paces farther on a pocket handkerchief also stained + with blood. He picked it up. The linen was fine, and the postman, in + alarm, made his way over to the ditch, where he fancied he saw a strange + object. + </p> + <p> + Mademoiselle Source was lying at the bottom on the grass, her throat cut + with a knife. + </p> + <p> + An hour later, the gendarmes, the examining magistrate, and other + authorities made an inquiry as to the cause of death. + </p> + <p> + The two female relatives, called as witnesses, told all about the old + maid's fears and her last plans. + </p> + <p> + The orphan was arrested. After the death of the woman who had adopted him, + he wept from morning till night, plunged, at least to all appearance, in + the most violent grief. + </p> + <p> + He proved that he had spent the evening up to eleven o'clock in a cafe. + Ten persons had seen him, having remained there till his departure. + </p> + <p> + The driver of the diligence stated that he had set down the murdered woman + on the road between half-past nine and ten o'clock. + </p> + <p> + The accused was acquitted. A will, drawn up a long time before, which had + been left in the hands of a notary in Rennes, made him sole heir. So he + inherited everything. + </p> + <p> + For a long time, the people of the country boycotted him, as they still + suspected him. His house, that of the dead woman, was looked upon as + accursed. People avoided him in the street. + </p> + <p> + But he showed himself so good-natured, so open, so familiar, that + gradually these horrible doubts were forgotten. He was generous, obliging, + ready to talk to the humblest about anything, as long as they cared to + talk to him. + </p> + <p> + The notary, Maitre Rameau, was one of the first to take his part, + attracted by his smiling loquacity. He said at a dinner, at the tax + collector's house: + </p> + <p> + “A man who speaks with such facility and who is always in good humor + could not have such a crime on his conscience.” + </p> + <p> + Touched by his argument, the others who were present reflected, and they + recalled to mind the long conversations with this man who would almost + compel them to stop at the road corners to listen to his ideas, who + insisted on their going into his house when they were passing by his + garden, who could crack a joke better than the lieutenant of the gendarmes + himself, and who possessed such contagious gaiety that, in spite of the + repugnance with which he inspired them, they could not keep from always + laughing in his company. + </p> + <p> + All doors were opened to him after a time. + </p> + <p> + He is to-day the mayor of his township. + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0120"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + THE BEGGAR + </h2> + <div class='ph3'> + He had seen better days, despite his present misery and infirmities. + </div> + <p> + At the age of fifteen both his legs had been crushed by a carriage on the + Varville highway. From that time forth he begged, dragging himself along + the roads and through the farmyards, supported by crutches which forced + his shoulders up to his ears. His head looked as if it were squeezed in + between two mountains. + </p> + <p> + A foundling, picked up out of a ditch by the priest of Les Billettes on + the eve of All Saints' Day and baptized, for that reason, Nicholas + Toussaint, reared by charity, utterly without education, crippled in + consequence of having drunk several glasses of brandy given him by the + baker (such a funny story!) and a vagabond all his life afterward—the + only thing he knew how to do was to hold out his hand for alms. + </p> + <p> + At one time the Baroness d'Avary allowed him to sleep in a kind of recess + spread with straw, close to the poultry yard in the farm adjoining the + chateau, and if he was in great need he was sure of getting a glass of + cider and a crust of bread in the kitchen. Moreover, the old lady often + threw him a few pennies from her window. But she was dead now. + </p> + <p> + In the villages people gave him scarcely anything—he was too well + known. Everybody had grown tired of seeing him, day after day for forty + years, dragging his deformed and tattered person from door to door on his + wooden crutches. But he could not make up his mind to go elsewhere, + because he knew no place on earth but this particular corner of the + country, these three or four villages where he had spent the whole of his + miserable existence. He had limited his begging operations and would not + for worlds have passed his accustomed bounds. + </p> + <p> + He did not even know whether the world extended for any distance beyond + the trees which had always bounded his vision. He did not ask himself the + question. And when the peasants, tired of constantly meeting him in their + fields or along their lanes, exclaimed: “Why don't you go to other + villages instead of always limping about here?” he did not answer, + but slunk away, possessed with a vague dread of the unknown—the + dread of a poor wretch who fears confusedly a thousand things—new + faces, taunts, insults, the suspicious glances of people who do not know + him and the policemen walking in couples on the roads. These last he + always instinctively avoided, taking refuge in the bushes or behind heaps + of stones when he saw them coming. + </p> + <p> + When he perceived them in the distance, 'With uniforms gleaming in the + sun, he was suddenly possessed with unwonted agility—the agility of + a wild animal seeking its lair. He threw aside his crutches, fell to the + ground like a limp rag, made himself as small as possible and crouched + like a hare under cover, his tattered vestments blending in hue with the + earth on which he cowered. + </p> + <p> + He had never had any trouble with the police, but the instinct to avoid + them was in his blood. He seemed to have inherited it from the parents he + had never known. + </p> + <p> + He had no refuge, no roof for his head, no shelter of any kind. In summer + he slept out of doors and in winter he showed remarkable skill in slipping + unperceived into barns and stables. He always decamped before his presence + could be discovered. He knew all the holes through which one could creep + into farm buildings, and the handling of his crutches having made his arms + surprisingly muscular he often hauled himself up through sheer strength of + wrist into hay-lofts, where he sometimes remained for four or five days at + a time, provided he had collected a sufficient store of food beforehand. + </p> + <p> + He lived like the beasts of the field. He was in the midst of men, yet + knew no one, loved no one, exciting in the breasts of the peasants only a + sort of careless contempt and smoldering hostility. They nicknamed him + “Bell,” because he hung between his two crutches like a church + bell between its supports. + </p> + <p> + For two days he had eaten nothing. No one gave him anything now. Every + one's patience was exhausted. Women shouted to him from their doorsteps + when they saw him coming: + </p> + <p> + “Be off with you, you good-for-nothing vagabond! Why, I gave you a + piece of bread only three days ago!” + </p> + <p> + And he turned on his crutches to the next house, where he was received in + the same fashion. + </p> + <p> + The women declared to one another as they stood at their doors: + </p> + <p> + “We can't feed that lazy brute all the year round!” + </p> + <p> + And yet the “lazy brute” needed food every day. + </p> + <p> + He had exhausted Saint-Hilaire, Varville and Les Billettes without getting + a single copper or so much as a dry crust. His only hope was in + Tournolles, but to reach this place he would have to walk five miles along + the highroad, and he felt so weary that he could hardly drag himself + another yard. His stomach and his pocket were equally empty, but he + started on his way. + </p> + <p> + It was December and a cold wind blew over the fields and whistled through + the bare branches of the trees; the clouds careered madly across the + black, threatening sky. The cripple dragged himself slowly along, raising + one crutch after the other with a painful effort, propping himself on the + one distorted leg which remained to him. + </p> + <p> + Now and then he sat down beside a ditch for a few moments' rest. Hunger + was gnawing his vitals, and in his confused, slow-working mind he had only + one idea-to eat-but how this was to be accomplished he did not know. For + three hours he continued his painful journey. Then at last the sight of + the trees of the village inspired him with new energy. + </p> + <p> + The first peasant he met, and of whom he asked alms, replied: + </p> + <p> + “So it's you again, is it, you old scamp? Shall I never be rid of + you?” + </p> + <p> + And “Bell” went on his way. At every door he got nothing but + hard words. He made the round of the whole village, but received not a + halfpenny for his pains. + </p> + <p> + Then he visited the neighboring farms, toiling through the muddy land, so + exhausted that he could hardly raise his crutches from the ground. He met + with the same reception everywhere. It was one of those cold, bleak days, + when the heart is frozen and the temper irritable, and hands do not open + either to give money or food. + </p> + <p> + When he had visited all the houses he knew, “Bell” sank down + in the corner of a ditch running across Chiquet's farmyard. Letting his + crutches slip to the ground, he remained motionless, tortured by hunger, + but hardly intelligent enough to realize to the full his unutterable + misery. + </p> + <p> + He awaited he knew not what, possessed with that vague hope which persists + in the human heart in spite of everything. He awaited in the corner of the + farmyard in the biting December wind, some mysterious aid from Heaven or + from men, without the least idea whence it was to arrive. A number of + black hens ran hither and thither, seeking their food in the earth which + supports all living things. Ever now and then they snapped up in their + beaks a grain of corn or a tiny insect; then they continued their slow, + sure search for nutriment. + </p> + <p> + “Bell” watched them at first without thinking of anything. + Then a thought occurred rather to his stomach than to his mind—the + thought that one of those fowls would be good to eat if it were cooked + over a fire of dead wood. + </p> + <p> + He did not reflect that he was going to commit a theft. He took up a stone + which lay within reach, and, being of skillful aim, killed at the first + shot the fowl nearest to him. The bird fell on its side, flapping its + wings. The others fled wildly hither and thither, and “Bell,” + picking up his crutches, limped across to where his victim lay. + </p> + <p> + Just as he reached the little black body with its crimsoned head he + received a violent blow in his back which made him let go his hold of his + crutches and sent him flying ten paces distant. And Farmer Chiquet, beside + himself with rage, cuffed and kicked the marauder with all the fury of a + plundered peasant as “Bell” lay defenceless before him. + </p> + <p> + The farm hands came up also and joined their master in cuffing the lame + beggar. Then when they were tired of beating him they carried him off and + shut him up in the woodshed, while they went to fetch the police. + </p> + <p> + “Bell,” half dead, bleeding and perishing with hunger, lay on + the floor. Evening came—then night—then dawn. And still he had + not eaten. + </p> + <p> + About midday the police arrived. They opened the door of the woodshed with + the utmost precaution, fearing resistance on the beggar's part, for Farmer + Chiquet asserted that he had been attacked by him and had had great, + difficulty in defending himself. + </p> + <p> + The sergeant cried: + </p> + <p> + “Come, get up!” + </p> + <p> + But “Bell” could not move. He did his best to raise himself on + his crutches, but without success. The police, thinking his weakness + feigned, pulled him up by main force and set him between the crutches. + </p> + <p> + Fear seized him—his native fear of a uniform, the fear of the game + in presence of the sportsman, the fear of a mouse for a cat-and by the + exercise of almost superhuman effort he succeeded in remaining upright. + </p> + <p> + “Forward!” said the sergeant. He walked. All the inmates of + the farm watched his departure. The women shook their fists at him the men + scoffed at and insulted him. He was taken at last! Good riddance! He went + off between his two guards. He mustered sufficient energy—the energy + of despair—to drag himself along until the evening, too dazed to + know what was happening to him, too frightened to understand. + </p> + <p> + People whom he met on the road stopped to watch him go by and peasants + muttered: + </p> + <p> + “It's some thief or other.” + </p> + <p> + Toward evening he reached the country town. He had never been so far + before. He did not realize in the least what he was there for or what was + to become of him. All the terrible and unexpected events of the last two + days, all these unfamiliar faces and houses struck dismay into his heart. + </p> + <p> + He said not a word, having nothing to say because he understood nothing. + Besides, he had spoken to no one for so many years past that he had almost + lost the use of his tongue, and his thoughts were too indeterminate to be + put into words. + </p> + <p> + He was shut up in the town jail. It did not occur to the police that he + might need food, and he was left alone until the following day. But when + in the early morning they came to examine him he was found dead on the + floor. Such an astonishing thing! + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0121"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + THE RABBIT + </h2> + <p> + Old Lecacheur appeared at the door of his house between five and a quarter + past five in the morning, his usual hour, to watch his men going to work. + </p> + <p> + He was only half awake, his face was red, and with his right eye open and + the left nearly closed, he was buttoning his braces over his fat stomach + with some difficulty, at the same time looking into every corner of the + farmyard with a searching glance. The sun darted its oblique rays through + the beech trees by the side of the ditch and athwart the apple trees + outside, and was making the cocks crow on the dunghill, and the pigeons + coo on the roof. The smell of the cow stable came through the open door, + and blended in the fresh morning air with the pungent odor of the stable, + where the horses were neighing, with their heads turned toward the light. + </p> + <p> + As soon as his trousers were properly fastened, Lecacheur came out, and + went, first of all, toward the hen house to count the morning's eggs, for + he had been afraid of thefts for some time; but the servant girl ran up to + him with lifted arms and cried: + </p> + <p> + “Master! master! they have stolen a rabbit during the night.” + </p> + <p> + “A rabbit?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, master, the big gray rabbit, from the hutch on the left”; + whereupon the farmer completely opened his left eye, and said, simply: + </p> + <p> + “I must see about that.” + </p> + <p> + And off he went to inspect it. The hutch had been broken open and the + rabbit was gone. Then he became thoughtful, closed his right eye again, + and scratched his nose, and after a little consideration, he said to the + frightened girl, who was standing stupidly before her master: + </p> + <p> + “Go and fetch the gendarmes; say I expect them as soon as possible.” + </p> + <p> + Lecacheur was mayor of the village, Pavigny-le-Gras, and ruled it like a + master, on account of his money and position, and as soon as the servant + had disappeared in the direction of the village, which was only about five + hundred yards off, he went into the house to have his morning coffee and + to discuss the matter with his wife, whom he found on her knees in front + of the fire, trying to make it burn quickly, and as soon as he got to the + door, he said: + </p> + <p> + “Somebody has stolen the gray rabbit.” + </p> + <p> + She turned round so suddenly that she found herself sitting on the floor, + and looking at her husband with distressed eyes, she said: + </p> + <p> + “What is it, Cacheux? Somebody has stolen a rabbit?” + </p> + <p> + “The big gray one.” + </p> + <p> + She sighed. + </p> + <p> + “What a shame! Who can have done it?” + </p> + <p> + She was a little, thin, active, neat woman, who knew all about farming. + Lecacheur had his own ideas about the matter. + </p> + <p> + “It must be that fellow, Polyte.” + </p> + <p> + His wife got up suddenly and said in a furious voice: + </p> + <p> + “He did it! he did it! You need not look for any one else. He did + it! You have said it, Cacheux!” + </p> + <p> + All her peasant's fury, all her avarice, all her rage of a saving woman + against the man of whom she had always been suspicious, and against the + girl whom she had always suspected, showed themselves in the contraction + of her mouth, and the wrinkles in the cheeks and forehead of her thin, + exasperated face. + </p> + <p> + “And what have you done?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “I have sent for the gendarmes.” + </p> + <p> + This Polyte was a laborer, who had been employed on the farm for a few + days, and who had been dismissed by Lecacheur for an insolent answer. He + was an old soldier, and was supposed to have retained his habits of + marauding and debauchery from his campaigns in Africa. He did anything + for a livelihood, but whether he were a mason, a navvy, a reaper, whether + he broke stones or lopped trees, he was always lazy, and so he remained + nowhere for long, and had, at times, to change his neighborhood to obtain + work. + </p> + <p> + From the first day that he came to the farm, Lecacheur's wife had detested + him, and now she was sure that he had committed the theft. + </p> + <p> + In about half an hour the two gendarmes arrived. Brigadier Senateur was + very tall and thin, and Gendarme Lenient short and fat. Lecacheur made + them sit down, and told them the affair, and then they went and saw the + scene of the theft, in order to verify the fact that the hutch had been + broken open, and to collect all the proofs they could. When they got back + to the kitchen, the mistress brought in some wine, filled their glasses, + and asked with a distrustful look: + </p> + <p> + “Shall you catch him?” + </p> + <p> + The brigadier, who had his sword between his legs, appeared thoughtful. + Certainly, he was sure of taking him, if he was pointed out to him, but if + not, he could not answer for being able to discover him, himself, and + after reflecting for a long time, he put this simple question: + </p> + <p> + “Do you know the thief?” + </p> + <p> + And Lecacheur replied, with a look of Normandy slyness in his eyes: + </p> + <p> + “As for knowing him, I do not, as I did not see him commit the + theft. If I had seen him, I should have made him eat it raw, skin and + flesh, without a drop of cider to wash it down. But as for saying who it + is, I cannot, although I believe it is that good-for-nothing Polyte.” + </p> + <p> + Then he related at length his troubles with Polyte, his leaving his + service, his bad reputation, things which had been told him, accumulating + insignificant and minute proofs, and then, the brigadier, who had been + listening very attentively while he emptied his glass and filled it again + with an indifferent air, turned to his gendarme and said: + </p> + <p> + “We must go and look in the cottage of Severin's wife.” At + which the gendarme smiled and nodded three times. + </p> + <p> + Then Madame Lecacheur came to them, and very quietly, with all a peasant's + cunning, questioned the brigadier in her turn. That shepherd Severin, a + simpleton, a sort of brute who had been brought up and had grown up among + his bleating flocks, and who knew scarcely anything besides them in the + world, had nevertheless preserved the peasant's instinct for saving, at + the bottom of his heart. For years and years he must have hidden in hollow + trees and crevices in the rocks all that he earned, either as a shepherd + or by curing animals' sprains—for the bonesetter's secret had been + handed down to him by the old shepherd whose place he took-by touch or + word, and one day he bought a small property, consisting of a cottage and + a field, for three thousand francs. + </p> + <p> + A few months later it became known that he was going to marry a servant, + notorious for her bad morals, the innkeeper's servant. The young fellows + said that the girl, knowing that he was pretty well off, had been to his + cottage every night, and had taken him, captured him, led him on to + matrimony, little by little night by night. + </p> + <p> + And then, having been to the mayor's office and to church, she now lived + in the house which her man had bought, while he continued to tend his + flocks, day and night, on the plains. + </p> + <p> + And the brigadier added: + </p> + <p> + “Polyte has been sleeping there for three weeks, for the thief has + no place of his own to go to!” + </p> + <p> + The gendarme made a little joke: + </p> + <p> + “He takes the shepherd's blankets.” + </p> + <p> + Madame Lecacheur, who was seized by a fresh access of rage, of rage + increased by a married woman's anger against debauchery, exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “It is she, I am sure. Go there. Ah, the blackguard thieves!” + </p> + <p> + But the brigadier was quite unmoved. + </p> + <p> + “One minute,” he said. “Let us wait until twelve + o'clock, as he goes and dines there every day. I shall catch them with it + under their noses.” + </p> + <p> + The gendarme smiled, pleased at his chief's idea, and Lecacheur also + smiled now, for the affair of the shepherd struck him as very funny; + deceived husbands are always a joke. + </p> + <p> + Twelve o'clock had just struck when the brigadier, followed by his man, + knocked gently three times at the door of a little lonely house, situated + at the corner of a wood, five hundred yards from the village. + </p> + <p> + They had been standing close against the wall, so as not to be seen from + within, and they waited. As nobody answered, the brigadier knocked again + in a minute or two. It was so quiet that the house seemed uninhabited; but + Lenient, the gendarme, who had very quick ears, said that he heard + somebody moving about inside, and then Senateur got angry. He would not + allow any one to resist the authority of the law for a moment, and, + knocking at the door with the hilt of his sword, he cried out: + </p> + <p> + “Open the door, in the name of the law.” + </p> + <p> + As this order had no effect, he roared out: + </p> + <p> + “If you do not obey, I shall smash the lock. I am the brigadier of + the gendarmerie, by G—! Here, Lenient.” + </p> + <p> + He had not finished speaking when the door opened and Senateur saw before + him a fat girl, with a very red, blowzy face, with drooping breasts, a big + stomach and broad hips, a sort of animal, the wife of the shepherd + Severin, and he went into the cottage. + </p> + <p> + “I have come to pay you a visit, as I want to make a little search,” + he said, and he looked about him. On the table there was a plate, a jug of + cider and a glass half full, which proved that a meal was in progress. Two + knives were lying side by side, and the shrewd gendarme winked at his + superior officer. + </p> + <p> + “It smells good,” the latter said. + </p> + <p> + “One might swear that it was stewed rabbit,” Lenient added, + much amused. + </p> + <p> + “Will you have a glass of brandy?” the peasant woman asked. + </p> + <p> + “No, thank you; I only want the skin of the rabbit that you are + eating.” + </p> + <p> + She pretended not to understand, but she was trembling. + </p> + <p> + “What rabbit?” + </p> + <p> + The brigadier had taken a seat, and was calmly wiping his forehead. + </p> + <p> + “Come, come, you are not going to try and make us believe that you + live on couch grass. What were you eating there all by yourself for your + dinner?” + </p> + <p> + “I? Nothing whatever, I swear to you. A mite of butter on my bread.” + </p> + <p> + “You are a novice, my good woman. A mite of butter on your bread. + You are mistaken; you ought to have said: a mite of butter on the rabbit. + By G—, your butter smells good! It is special butter, extra good + butter, butter fit for a wedding; certainly, not household butter!” + </p> + <p> + The gendarme was shaking with laughter, and repeated: + </p> + <p> + “Not household butter certainly.” + </p> + <p> + As Brigadier Senateur was a joker, all the gendarmes had grown facetious, + and the officer continued: + </p> + <p> + “Where is your butter?” + </p> + <p> + “My butter?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, your butter.” + </p> + <p> + “In the jar.” + </p> + <p> + “Then where is the butter jar?” + </p> + <p> + “Here it is.” + </p> + <p> + She brought out an old cup, at the bottom of which there was a layer of + rancid salt butter, and the brigadier smelled of it, and said, with a + shake of his head: + </p> + <p> + “It is not the same. I want the butter that smells of the rabbit. + Come, Lenient, open your eyes; look under the sideboard, my good fellow, + and I will look under the bed.” + </p> + <p> + Having shut the door, he went up to the bed and tried to move it; but it + was fixed to the wall, and had not been moved for more than half a + century, apparently. Then the brigadier stooped, and made his uniform + crack. A button had flown off. + </p> + <p> + “Lenient,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, brigadier?” + </p> + <p> + “Come here, my lad, and look under the bed; I am too tall. I will + look after the sideboard.” + </p> + <p> + He got up and waited while his man executed his orders. + </p> + <p> + Lenient, who was short and stout, took off his kepi, laid himself on his + stomach, and, putting his face on the floor, looked at the black cavity + under the bed, and then, suddenly, he exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “All right, here we are!” + </p> + <p> + “What have you got? The rabbit?” + </p> + <p> + “No, the thief.” + </p> + <p> + “The thief! Pull him out, pull him out!” + </p> + <p> + The gendarme had put his arms under the bed and laid hold of something, + and he was pulling with all his might, and at last a foot, shod in a thick + boot, appeared, which he was holding in his right hand. The brigadier took + it, crying: + </p> + <p> + “Pull! Pull!” + </p> + <p> + And Lenient, who was on his knees by that time, was pulling at the other + leg. But it was a hard job, for the prisoner kicked out hard, and arched + up his back under the bed. + </p> + <p> + “Courage! courage! pull! pull!” Senateur cried, and they + pulled him with all their strength, so that the wooden slat gave way, and + he came out as far as his head; but at last they got that out also, and + they saw the terrified and furious face of Polyte, whose arms remained + stretched out under the bed. + </p> + <p> + “Pull away!” the brigadier kept on exclaiming. Then they heard + a strange noise, and as the arms followed the shoulders, and the hands the + arms, they saw in the hands the handle of a saucepan, and at the end of + the handle the saucepan itself, which contained stewed rabbit. + </p> + <p> + “Good Lord! good Lord!” the brigadier shouted in his delight, + while Lenient took charge of the man; the rabbit's skin, an overwhelming + proof, was discovered under the mattress, and then the gendarmes returned + in triumph to the village with their prisoner and their booty. + </p> + <p> + A week later, as the affair had made much stir, Lecacheur, on going into + the mairie to consult the schoolmaster, was told that the shepherd Severin + had been waiting for him for more than an hour, and he found him sitting + on a chair in a corner, with his stick between his legs. When he saw the + mayor, he got up, took off his cap, and said: + </p> + <p> + “Good-morning, Maitre Cacheux”; and then he remained standing, + timid and embarrassed. + </p> + <p> + “What do you want?” the former said. + </p> + <p> + “This is it, monsieur. Is it true that somebody stole one of your + rabbits last week?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it is quite true, Severin.” + </p> + <p> + “Who stole the rabbit?” + </p> + <p> + “Polyte Ancas, the laborer.” + </p> + <p> + “Right! right! And is it also true that it was found under my bed?” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean, the rabbit?” + </p> + <p> + “The rabbit and then Polyte.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, my poor Severin, quite true, but who told you?” + </p> + <p> + “Pretty well everybody. I understand! And I suppose you know all + about marriages, as you marry people?” + </p> + <p> + “What about marriage?” + </p> + <p> + “With regard to one's rights.” + </p> + <p> + “What rights?” + </p> + <p> + “The husband's rights and then the wife's rights.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course I do.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! Then just tell me, M'sieu Cacheux, has my wife the right to go + to bed with Polyte?” + </p> + <p> + “What, to go to bed with Polyte?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, has she any right before the law, and, seeing that she is my + wife, to go to bed with Polyte?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, of course not, of course not.” + </p> + <p> + “If I catch him there again, shall I have the right to thrash him + and her also?” + </p> + <p> + “Why—why—why, yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well, then; I will tell you why I want to know. One night last + week, as I had my suspicions, I came in suddenly, and they were not + behaving properly. I chucked Polyte out, to go and sleep somewhere else; + but that was all, as I did not know what my rights were. This time I did + not see them; I only heard of it from others. That is over, and we will + not say any more about it; but if I catch them again—by G—, if + I catch them again, I will make them lose all taste for such nonsense, + Maitre Cacheux, as sure as my name is Severin.” + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0122"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + HIS AVENGER + </h2> + <p> + When M. Antoine Leuillet married the widow, Madame Mathilde Souris, he had + already been in love with her for ten years. + </p> + <p> + M. Souris has been his friend, his old college chum. Leuillet was very + much attached to him, but thought he was somewhat of a simpleton. He would + often remark: “That poor Souris who will never set the world on + fire.” + </p> + <p> + When Souris married Miss Mathilde Duval, Leuillet was astonished and + somewhat annoyed, as he was slightly devoted to her, himself. She was the + daughter of a neighbor, a former proprietor of a draper's establishment + who had retired with quite a small fortune. She married Souris for his + money. + </p> + <p> + Then Leuillet thought he would start a flirtation with his friend's wife. + He was a good-looking man, intelligent and also rich. He thought it would + be all plain sailing, but he was mistaken. Then he really began to admire + her with an admiration that his friendship for the husband obliged him to + keep within the bounds of discretion, making him timid and embarrassed. + Madame Souris believing that his presumptions had received a wholesome + check now treated him as a good friend. This went on for nine years. + </p> + <p> + One morning a messenger brought Leuillet a distracted note from the poor + woman. Souris had just died suddenly from the rupture of an aneurism. He + was dreadfully shocked, for they were just the same age. But almost + immediately a feeling of profound joy, of intense relief, of emancipation + filled his being. Madame Souris was free. + </p> + <p> + He managed, however, to assume the sad, sympathetic expression that was + appropriate, waited the required time, observed all social appearances. At + the end of fifteen months he married the widow. + </p> + <p> + This was considered to be a very natural, and even a generous action. It + was the act of a good friend of an upright man. + </p> + <p> + He was happy at last, perfectly happy. + </p> + <p> + They lived in the most cordial intimacy, having understood and appreciated + each other from the first. They had no secrets from one another and even + confided to each other their most secret thoughts. Leuillet loved his wife + now with a quiet and trustful affection; he loved her as a tender, devoted + companion who is an equal and a confidante. But there lingered in his mind + a strange and inexplicable bitterness towards the defunct Souris, who had + first been the husband of this woman, who had had the flower of her youth + and of her soul, and had even robbed her of some of her poetry. The memory + of the dead husband marred the happiness of the living husband, and this + posthumous jealousy tormented his heart by day and by night. + </p> + <p> + The consequence was he talked incessantly of Souris, asked about a + thousand personal and secret minutia, wanted to know all about his habits + and his person. And he sneered at him even in his grave, recalling with + self-satisfaction his whims, ridiculing his absurdities, dwelling on his + faults. + </p> + <p> + He would call to his wife all over the house: + </p> + <p> + “Hallo, Mathilde!” + </p> + <p> + “Here I am, dear.” + </p> + <p> + “Come here a moment.” + </p> + <p> + She would come, always smiling, knowing well that he would say something + about Souris and ready to flatter her new husband's inoffensive mania. + </p> + <p> + “Tell me, do you remember one day how Souris insisted on explaining + to me that little men always commanded more affection than big men?” + </p> + <p> + And he made some remarks that were disparaging to the deceased, who was a + small man, and decidedly flattering to himself, Leuillet, who was a tall + man. + </p> + <p> + Mme. Leuillet allowed him to think he was right, quite right, and she + laughed heartily, gently ridiculing her former husband for the sake of + pleasing the present one, who always ended by saying: + </p> + <p> + “All the same, what a ninny that Souris was!” + </p> + <p> + They were happy, quite happy, and Leuillet never ceased to show his + devotion to his wife. + </p> + <p> + One night, however, as they lay awake, Leuillet said as he kissed his + wife: + </p> + <p> + “See here, dearie.” + </p> + <p> + “Well?” + </p> + <p> + “Was Souris—I don't exactly know how to say it—was + Souris very loving?” + </p> + <p> + She gave him a kiss for reply and murmured “Not as loving as you + are, mon chat.” + </p> + <p> + He was flattered in his self-love and continued: + </p> + <p> + “He must have been—a ninny—was he not?” + </p> + <p> + She did not reply. She only smiled slyly and hid her face in her husband's + neck. + </p> + <p> + “He must have been a ninny and not—not—not smart?” + </p> + <p> + She shook her head slightly to imply, “No—not at all smart.” + </p> + <p> + He continued: + </p> + <p> + “He must have been an awful nuisance, eh?” + </p> + <p> + This time she was frank and replied: + </p> + <p> + “Oh yes!” + </p> + <p> + He kissed her again for this avowal and said: + </p> + <p> + “What a brute he was! You were not happy with him?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” she replied. “It was not always pleasant.” + </p> + <p> + Leuillet was delighted, forming in his mind a comparison, much in his own + favor, between his wife's former and present position. He was silent for a + time, and then with a burst of laughter he asked: + </p> + <p> + “Tell me?” + </p> + <p> + “What?” + </p> + <p> + “Will you be frank, very frank with me?” + </p> + <p> + “Why yes, my dear.” + </p> + <p> + “Well then, tell me truly did you never feel tempted to—to—to + deceive that imbecile Souris?” + </p> + <p> + Mme. Leuillet said: “Oh!” pretending to be shocked and hid her + face again on her husband's shoulder. But he saw that she was laughing. + </p> + <p> + “Come now, own up,” he persisted. “He looked like a + ninny, that creature! It would be funny, so funny! Good old Souris! Come, + come, dearie, you do not mind telling me, me, of all people.” + </p> + <p> + He insisted on the “me” thinking that if she had wished to + deceive Souris she would have chosen him, and he was trembling in + anticipation of her avowal, sure that if she had not been a virtuous woman + she would have encouraged his own attentions. + </p> + <p> + But she did not answer, laughing still, as at the recollection of + something exceedingly comical. + </p> + <p> + Leuillet, in his turn began to laugh, thinking he might have been the + lucky man, and he muttered amid his mirth: “That poor Souris, that + poor Souris, oh, yes, he looked like a fool!” + </p> + <p> + Mme. Leuillet was almost in spasms of laughter. + </p> + <p> + “Come, confess, be frank. You know I will not mind.” + </p> + <p> + Then she stammered out, almost choking with laughter: “Yes, yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, what?” insisted her husband. “Come, tell all.” + </p> + <p> + She was quieter now and putting her mouth to her husband's ear, she + whispered: “Yes, I did deceive him.” + </p> + <p> + He felt a chill run down his back and to his very bones, and he stammered + out, dumfounded: “You—you—deceived him—criminally?” + </p> + <p> + She still thought he was amused and replied: “Yes—yes, + absolutely.” + </p> + <p> + He was obliged to sit up to recover his breath, he was so shocked and + upset at what he had heard. + </p> + <p> + She had become serious, understanding too late what she had done. + </p> + <p> + “With whom?” said Leuillet at length. + </p> + <p> + She was silent seeking some excuse. + </p> + <p> + “A young man,” she replied at length. + </p> + <p> + He turned suddenly toward her and said drily: + </p> + <p> + “I did not suppose it was the cook. I want to know what young man, + do you hear?” + </p> + <p> + She did not answer. + </p> + <p> + He snatched the covers from her face, repeating: + </p> + <p> + “I want to know what young man, do you hear?” + </p> + <p> + Then she said sorrowfully: “I was only in fun.” But he was + trembling with rage. “What? How? You were only in fun? You were + making fun of me, then? But I am not satisfied, do you hear? I want the + name of the young man!” + </p> + <p> + She did not reply, but lay there motionless. + </p> + <p> + He took her by the arm and squeezed it, saying: “Do you understand + me, finally? I wish you to reply when I speak to you.” + </p> + <p> + “I think you are going crazy,” she said nervously, “let + me alone!” + </p> + <p> + He was wild with rage, not knowing what to say, exasperated, and he shook + her with all his might, repeating: + </p> + <p> + “Do you hear me, do you hear me?” + </p> + <p> + She made an abrupt effort to disengage herself and the tips of her fingers + touched her husband's nose. He was furious, thinking she had tried to hit + him, and he sprang upon her holding her down; and boxing her ears with all + his might, he cried: “Take that, and that, there, there, wretch!” + </p> + <p> + When he was out of breath and exhausted, he rose and went toward the + dressing table to prepare a glass of eau sucree with orange flower, for he + felt as if he should faint. + </p> + <p> + She was weeping in bed, sobbing bitterly, for she felt as if her happiness + was over, through her own fault. + </p> + <p> + Then, amidst her tears, she stammered out: + </p> + <p> + “Listen, Antoine, come here, I told you a lie, you will understand, + listen.” + </p> + <p> + And prepared to defend herself now, armed with excuses and artifice, she + raised her disheveled head with its nightcap all awry. + </p> + <p> + Turning toward her, he approached, ashamed of having struck her, but + feeling in the bottom of his heart as a husband, a relentless hatred + toward this woman who had deceived the former husband, Souris. + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0123"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + MY UNCLE JULES + </h2> + <p> + A white-haired old man begged us for alms. My companion, Joseph Davranche, + gave him five francs. Noticing my surprised look, he said: + </p> + <p> + “That poor unfortunate reminds me of a story which I shall tell you, + the memory of which continually pursues me. Here it is: + </p> + <p> + “My family, which came originally from Havre, was not rich. We just + managed to make both ends meet. My father worked hard, came home late from + the office, and earned very little. I had two sisters. + </p> + <p> + “My mother suffered a good deal from our reduced circumstances, and + she often had harsh words for her husband, veiled and sly reproaches. The + poor man then made a gesture which used to distress me. He would pass his + open hand over his forehead, as if to wipe away perspiration which did not + exist, and he would answer nothing. I felt his helpless suffering. We + economized on everything, and never would accept an invitation to dinner, + so as not to have to return the courtesy. All our provisions were bought + at bargain sales. My sisters made their own gowns, and long discussions + would arise on the price of a piece of braid worth fifteen centimes a + yard. Our meals usually consisted of soup and beef, prepared with every + kind of sauce. + </p> + <p> + “They say it is wholesome and nourishing, but I should have + preferred a change. + </p> + <p> + “I used to go through terrible scenes on account of lost buttons and + torn trousers. + </p> + <p> + “Every Sunday, dressed in our best, we would take our walk along the + breakwater. My father, in a frock coat, high hat and kid gloves, would + offer his arm to my mother, decked out and beribboned like a ship on a + holiday. My sisters, who were always ready first, would await the signal + for leaving; but at the last minute some one always found a spot on my + father's frock coat, and it had to be wiped away quickly with a rag + moistened with benzine. + </p> + <p> + “My father, in his shirt sleeves, his silk hat on his head, would + await the completion of the operation, while my mother, putting on her + spectacles, and taking off her gloves in order not to spoil them, would + make haste. + </p> + <p> + “Then we set out ceremoniously. My sisters marched on ahead, arm in + arm. They were of marriageable age and had to be displayed. I walked on + the left of my mother and my father on her right. I remember the pompous + air of my poor parents in these Sunday walks, their stern expression, + their stiff walk. They moved slowly, with a serious expression, their + bodies straight, their legs stiff, as if something of extreme importance + depended upon their appearance. + </p> + <p> + “Every Sunday, when the big steamers were returning from unknown and + distant countries, my father would invariably utter the same words: + </p> + <p> + “'What a surprise it would be if Jules were on that one! Eh?' + </p> + <p> + “My Uncle Jules, my father's brother, was the only hope of the + family, after being its only fear. I had heard about him since childhood, + and it seemed to me that I should recognize him immediately, knowing as + much about him as I did. I knew every detail of his life up to the day of + his departure for America, although this period of his life was spoken of + only in hushed tones. + </p> + <p> + “It seems that he had led a bad life, that is to say, he had + squandered a little money, which action, in a poor family, is one of the + greatest crimes. With rich people a man who amuses himself only sows his + wild oats. He is what is generally called a sport. But among needy + families a boy who forces his parents to break into the capital becomes a + good-for-nothing, a rascal, a scamp. And this distinction is just, + although the action be the same, for consequences alone determine the + seriousness of the act. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Uncle Jules had visibly diminished the inheritance on which + my father had counted, after he had swallowed his own to the last penny. + Then, according to the custom of the times, he had been shipped off to + America on a freighter going from Havre to New York. + </p> + <p> + “Once there, my uncle began to sell something or other, and he soon + wrote that he was making a little money and that he soon hoped to be able + to indemnify my father for the harm he had done him. This letter caused a + profound emotion in the family. Jules, who up to that time had not been + worth his salt, suddenly became a good man, a kind-hearted fellow, true + and honest like all the Davranches. + </p> + <p> + “One of the captains told us that he had rented a large shop and was + doing an important business. + </p> + <p> + “Two years later a second letter came, saying: 'My dear Philippe, I + am writing to tell you not to worry about my health, which is excellent. + Business is good. I leave to-morrow for a long trip to South America. I + may be away for several years without sending you any news. If I shouldn't + write, don't worry. When my fortune is made I shall return to Havre. I + hope that it will not be too long and that we shall all live happily + together . . . .' + </p> + <p> + “This letter became the gospel of the family. It was read on the + slightest provocation, and it was shown to everybody. + </p> + <p> + “For ten years nothing was heard from Uncle Jules; but as time went + on my father's hope grew, and my mother, also, often said: + </p> + <p> + “'When that good Jules is here, our position will be different. + There is one who knew how to get along!' + </p> + <p> + “And every Sunday, while watching the big steamers approaching from + the horizon, pouring out a stream of smoke, my father would repeat his + eternal question: + </p> + <p> + “'What a surprise it would be if Jules were on that one! Eh?' + </p> + <p> + “We almost expected to see him waving his handkerchief and crying: + </p> + <p> + “'Hey! Philippe!' + </p> + <p> + “Thousands of schemes had been planned on the strength of this + expected return; we were even to buy a little house with my uncle's money—a + little place in the country near Ingouville. In fact, I wouldn't swear + that my father had not already begun negotiations. + </p> + <p> + “The elder of my sisters was then twenty-eight, the other + twenty-six. They were not yet married, and that was a great grief to every + one. + </p> + <p> + “At last a suitor presented himself for the younger one. He was a + clerk, not rich, but honorable. I have always been morally certain that + Uncle Jules' letter, which was shown him one evening, had swept away the + young man's hesitation and definitely decided him. + </p> + <p> + “He was accepted eagerly, and it was decided that after the wedding + the whole family should take a trip to Jersey. + </p> + <p> + “Jersey is the ideal trip for poor people. It is not far; one + crosses a strip of sea in a steamer and lands on foreign soil, as this + little island belongs to England. Thus, a Frenchman, with a two hours' + sail, can observe a neighboring people at home and study their customs. + </p> + <p> + “This trip to Jersey completely absorbed our ideas, was our sole + anticipation, the constant thought of our minds. + </p> + <p> + “At last we left. I see it as plainly as if it had happened + yesterday. The boat was getting up steam against the quay at Granville; my + father, bewildered, was superintending the loading of our three pieces of + baggage; my mother, nervous, had taken the arm of my unmarried sister, who + seemed lost since the departure of the other one, like the last chicken of + a brood; behind us came the bride and groom, who always stayed behind, a + thing that often made me turn round. + </p> + <p> + “The whistle sounded. We got on board, and the vessel, leaving the + breakwater, forged ahead through a sea as flat as a marble table. We + watched the coast disappear in the distance, happy and proud, like all who + do not travel much. + </p> + <p> + “My father was swelling out his chest in the breeze, beneath his + frock coat, which had that morning been very carefully cleaned; and he + spread around him that odor of benzine which always made me recognize + Sunday. Suddenly he noticed two elegantly dressed ladies to whom two + gentlemen were offering oysters. An old, ragged sailor was opening them + with his knife and passing them to the gentlemen, who would then offer + them to the ladies. They ate them in a dainty manner, holding the shell on + a fine handkerchief and advancing their mouths a little in order not to + spot their dresses. Then they would drink the liquid with a rapid little + motion and throw the shell overboard. + </p> + <p> + “My father was probably pleased with this delicate manner of eating + oysters on a moving ship. He considered it good form, refined, and, going + up to my mother and sisters, he asked: + </p> + <p> + “'Would you like me to offer you some oysters?' + </p> + <p> + “My mother hesitated on account of the expense, but my two sisters + immediately accepted. My mother said in a provoked manner: + </p> + <p> + “'I am afraid that they will hurt my stomach. Offer the children + some, but not too much, it would make them sick.' Then, turning toward me, + she added: + </p> + <p> + “'As for Joseph, he doesn't need any. Boys shouldn't be spoiled.' + </p> + <p> + “However, I remained beside my mother, finding this discrimination + unjust. I watched my father as he pompously conducted my two sisters and + his son-in-law toward the ragged old sailor. + </p> + <p> + “The two ladies had just left, and my father showed my sisters how + to eat them without spilling the liquor. He even tried to give them an + example, and seized an oyster. He attempted to imitate the ladies, and + immediately spilled all the liquid over his coat. I heard my mother + mutter: + </p> + <p> + “'He would do far better to keep quiet.' + </p> + <p> + “But, suddenly, my father appeared to be worried; he retreated a few + steps, stared at his family gathered around the old shell opener, and + quickly came toward us. He seemed very pale, with a peculiar look. In a + low voice he said to my mother: + </p> + <p> + “'It's extraordinary how that man opening the oysters looks like + Jules.' + </p> + <p> + “Astonished, my mother asked: + </p> + <p> + “'What Jules?' + </p> + <p> + “My father continued: + </p> + <p> + “'Why, my brother. If I did not know that he was well off in + America, I should think it was he.' + </p> + <p> + “Bewildered, my mother stammered: + </p> + <p> + “'You are crazy! As long as you know that it is not he, why do you + say such foolish things?' + </p> + <p> + “But my father insisted: + </p> + <p> + “'Go on over and see, Clarisse! I would rather have you see with + your own eyes.' + </p> + <p> + “She arose and walked to her daughters. I, too, was watching the + man. He was old, dirty, wrinkled, and did not lift his eyes from his work. + </p> + <p> + “My mother returned. I noticed that she was trembling. She exclaimed + quickly: + </p> + <p> + “'I believe that it is he. Why don't you ask the captain? But be + very careful that we don't have this rogue on our hands again!' + </p> + <p> + “My father walked away, but I followed him. I felt strangely moved. + </p> + <p> + “The captain, a tall, thin man, with blond whiskers, was walking + along the bridge with an important air as if he were commanding the Indian + mail steamer. + </p> + <p> + “My father addressed him ceremoniously, and questioned him about his + profession, adding many compliments: + </p> + <p> + “'What might be the importance of Jersey? What did it produce? What + was the population? The customs? The nature of the soil?' etc., etc. + </p> + <p> + “'You have there an old shell opener who seems quite interesting. Do + you know anything about him?' + </p> + <p> + “The captain, whom this conversation began to weary, answered dryly: + </p> + <p> + “'He is some old French tramp whom I found last year in America, and + I brought him back. It seems that he has some relatives in Havre, but that + he doesn't wish to return to them because he owes them money. His name is + Jules—Jules Darmanche or Darvanche or something like that. It seems + that he was once rich over there, but you can see what's left of him now.' + </p> + <p> + “My father turned ashy pale and muttered, his throat contracted, his + eyes haggard. + </p> + <p> + “'Ah! ah! very well, very well. I'm not in the least surprised. + Thank you very much, captain.' + </p> + <p> + “He went away, and the astonished sailor watched him disappear. He + returned to my mother so upset that she said to him: + </p> + <p> + “'Sit down; some one will notice that something is the matter.' + </p> + <p> + “He sank down on a bench and stammered: + </p> + <p> + “'It's he! It's he!' + </p> + <p> + “Then he asked: + </p> + <p> + “'What are we going to do?' + </p> + <p> + “She answered quickly: + </p> + <p> + “'We must get the children out of the way. Since Joseph knows + everything, he can go and get them. We must take good care that our + son-in-law doesn't find out.' + </p> + <p> + “My father seemed absolutely bewildered. He murmured: + </p> + <p> + “'What a catastrophe!' + </p> + <p> + “Suddenly growing furious, my mother exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “'I always thought that that thief never would do anything, and that + he would drop down on us again! As if one could expect anything from a + Davranche!' + </p> + <p> + “My father passed his hand over his forehead, as he always did when + his wife reproached him. She added: + </p> + <p> + “'Give Joseph some money so that he can pay for the oysters. All + that it needed to cap the climax would be to be recognized by that beggar. + That would be very pleasant! Let's get down to the other end of the boat, + and take care that that man doesn't come near us!' + </p> + <p> + “They gave me five francs and walked away. + </p> + <p> + “Astonished, my sisters were awaiting their father. I said that + mamma had felt a sudden attack of sea-sickness, and I asked the shell + opener: + </p> + <p> + “'How much do we owe you, monsieur?' + </p> + <p> + “I felt like laughing: he was my uncle! He answered: + </p> + <p> + “'Two francs fifty.' + </p> + <p> + “I held out my five francs and he returned the change. I looked at + his hand; it was a poor, wrinkled, sailor's hand, and I looked at his + face, an unhappy old face. I said to myself: + </p> + <p> + “'That is my uncle, the brother of my father, my uncle!' + </p> + <p> + “I gave him a ten-cent tip. He thanked me: + </p> + <p> + “'God bless you, my young sir!' + </p> + <p> + “He spoke like a poor man receiving alms. I couldn't help thinking + that he must have begged over there! My sisters looked at me, surprised at + my generosity. When I returned the two francs to my father, my mother + asked me in surprise: + </p> + <p> + “'Was there three francs' worth? That is impossible.' + </p> + <p> + “I answered in a firm voice + </p> + <p> + “'I gave ten cents as a tip.' + </p> + <p> + “My mother started, and, staring at me, she exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “'You must be crazy! Give ten cents to that man, to that vagabond—' + </p> + <p> + “She stopped at a look from my father, who was pointing at his + son-in-law. Then everybody was silent. + </p> + <p> + “Before us, on the distant horizon, a purple shadow seemed to rise + out of the sea. It was Jersey. + </p> + <p> + “As we approached the breakwater a violent desire seized me once + more to see my Uncle Jules, to be near him, to say to him something + consoling, something tender. But as no one was eating any more oysters, he + had disappeared, having probably gone below to the dirty hold which was + the home of the poor wretch.” + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0124"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + THE MODEL + </h2> + <p> + Curving like a crescent moon, the little town of Etretat, with its white + cliffs, its white, shingly beach and its blue sea, lay in the sunlight at + high noon one July day. At either extremity of this crescent its two + “gates,” the smaller to the right, the larger one at the left, + stretched forth—one a dwarf and the other a colossal limb—into + the water, and the bell tower, almost as tall as the cliff, wide below, + narrowing at the top, raised its pointed summit to the sky. + </p> + <p> + On the sands beside the water a crowd was seated watching the bathers. On + the terrace of, the Casino another crowd, seated or walking, displayed + beneath the brilliant sky a perfect flower patch of bright costumes, with + red and blue parasols embroidered with large flowers in silk. + </p> + <p> + On the walk at the end of the terrace, other persons, the restful, quiet + ones, were walking slowly, far from the dressy throng. + </p> + <p> + A young man, well known and celebrated as a painter, Jean Sumner, was + walking with a dejected air beside a wheeled chair in which sat a young + woman, his wife. A manservant was gently pushing the chair, and the + crippled woman was gazing sadly at the brightness of the sky, the gladness + of the day, and the happiness of others. + </p> + <p> + They did not speak. They did not look at each other. + </p> + <p> + “Let us stop a while,” said the young woman. + </p> + <p> + They stopped, and the painter sat down on a camp stool that the servant + handed him. + </p> + <p> + Those who were passing behind the silent and motionless couple looked at + them compassionately. A whole legend of devotion was attached to them. He + had married her in spite of her infirmity, touched by her affection for + him, it was said. + </p> + <p> + Not far from there, two young men were chatting, seated on a bench and + looking out into the horizon. + </p> + <p> + “No, it is not true; I tell you that I am well acquainted with Jean + Sumner.” + </p> + <p> + “But then, why did he marry her? For she was a cripple when she + married, was she not?” + </p> + <p> + “Just so. He married her—he married her—just as every + one marries, parbleu! because he was an idiot!” + </p> + <p> + “But why?” + </p> + <p> + “But why—but why, my friend? There is no why. People do stupid + things just because they do stupid things. And, besides, you know very + well that painters make a specialty of foolish marriages. They almost + always marry models, former sweethearts, in fact, women of doubtful + reputation, frequently. Why do they do this? Who can say? One would + suppose that constant association with the general run of models would + disgust them forever with that class of women. Not at all. After having + posed them they marry them. Read that little book, so true, so cruel and + so beautiful, by Alphonse Daudet: 'Artists' Wives.' + </p> + <p> + “In the case of the couple you see over there the accident occurred + in a special and terrible manner. The little woman played a frightful + comedy, or, rather, tragedy. She risked all to win all. Was she sincere? + Did she love Jean? Shall we ever know? Who is able to determine precisely + how much is put on and how much is real in the actions of a woman? They + are always sincere in an eternal mobility of impressions. They are + furious, criminal, devoted, admirable and base in obedience to intangible + emotions. They tell lies incessantly without intention, without knowing or + understanding why, and in spite of it all are absolutely frank in their + feelings and sentiments, which they display by violent, unexpected, + incomprehensible, foolish resolutions which overthrow our arguments, our + customary poise and all our selfish plans. The unforeseenness and + suddenness of their determinations will always render them undecipherable + enigmas as far as we are concerned. We continually ask ourselves: + </p> + <p> + “'Are they sincere? Are they pretending?' + </p> + <p> + “But, my friend, they are sincere and insincere at one and the same + time, because it is their nature to be extremists in both and to be + neither one nor the other. + </p> + <p> + “See the methods that even the best of them employ to get what they + desire. They are complex and simple, these methods. So complex that we can + never guess at them beforehand, and so simple that after having been + victimized we cannot help being astonished and exclaiming: 'What! Did she + make a fool of me so easily as that?' + </p> + <p> + “And they always succeed, old man, especially when it is a question + of getting married. + </p> + <p> + “But this is Sumner's story: + </p> + <p> + “The little woman was a model, of course. She posed for him. She was + pretty, very stylish-looking, and had a divine figure, it seems. He + fancied that he loved her with his whole soul. That is another strange + thing. As soon as one likes a woman one sincerely believes that they could + not get along without her for the rest of their life. One knows that one + has felt the same way before and that disgust invariably succeeded + gratification; that in order to pass one's existence side by side with + another there must be not a brutal, physical passion which soon dies out, + but a sympathy of soul, temperament and temper. One should know how to + determine in the enchantment to which one is subjected whether it proceeds + from the physical, from a certain sensuous intoxication, or from a deep + spiritual charm. + </p> + <p> + “Well, he believed himself in love; he made her no end of promises + of fidelity, and was devoted to her. + </p> + <p> + “She was really attractive, gifted with that fashionable flippancy + that little Parisians so readily affect. She chattered, babbled, made + foolish remarks that sounded witty from the manner in which they were + uttered. She used graceful gesture's which were calculated to attract a + painter's eye. When she raised her arms, when she bent over, when she got + into a carriage, when she held out her hand to you, her gestures were + perfect and appropriate. + </p> + <p> + “For three months Jean never noticed that, in reality, she was like + all other models. + </p> + <p> + “He rented a little house for her for the summer at Andresy. + </p> + <p> + “I was there one evening when for the first time doubts came into my + friend's mind. + </p> + <p> + “As it was a beautiful evening we thought we would take a stroll + along the bank of the river. The moon poured a flood of light on the + trembling water, scattering yellow gleams along its ripples in the + currents and all along the course of the wide, slow river. + </p> + <p> + “We strolled along the bank, a little enthused by that vague + exaltation that these dreamy evenings produce in us. We would have liked + to undertake some wonderful task, to love some unknown, deliciously poetic + being. We felt ourselves vibrating with raptures, longings, strange + aspirations. And we were silent, our beings pervaded by the serene and + living coolness of the beautiful night, the coolness of the moonlight, + which seemed to penetrate one's body, permeate it, soothe one's spirit, + fill it with fragrance and steep it in happiness. + </p> + <p> + “Suddenly Josephine (that is her name) uttered an exclamation: + </p> + <p> + “'Oh, did you see the big fish that jumped, over there?' + </p> + <p> + “He replied without looking, without thinking: + </p> + <p> + “'Yes, dear.' + </p> + <p> + “She was angry. + </p> + <p> + “'No, you did not see it, for your back was turned.' + </p> + <p> + “He smiled. + </p> + <p> + “'Yes, that's true. It is so delightful that I am not thinking of + anything.' + </p> + <p> + “She was silent, but at the end of a minute she felt as if she must + say something and asked: + </p> + <p> + “'Are you going to Paris to-morrow?' + </p> + <p> + “'I do not know,' he replied. + </p> + <p> + “She was annoyed again. + </p> + <p> + “'Do you think it is very amusing to walk along without speaking? + People talk when they are not stupid.' + </p> + <p> + “He did not reply. Then, feeling with her woman's instinct that she + was going to make him angry, she began to sing a popular air that had + harassed our ears and our minds for two years: + </p> + <p> + “'Je regardais en fair.' + </p> + <p> + “He murmured: + </p> + <p> + “'Please keep quiet.' + </p> + <p> + “She replied angrily: + </p> + <p> + “'Why do you wish me to keep quiet?' + </p> + <p> + “'You spoil the landscape for us!' he said. + </p> + <p> + “Then followed a scene, a hateful, idiotic scene, with unexpected + reproaches, unsuitable recriminations, then tears. Nothing was left + unsaid. They went back to the house. He had allowed her to talk without + replying, enervated by the beauty of the scene and dumfounded by this + storm of abuse. + </p> + <p> + “Three months later he strove wildly to free himself from those + invincible and invisible bonds with which such a friendship chains our + lives. She kept him under her influence, tyrannizing over him, making his + life a burden to him. They quarreled continually, vituperating and finally + fighting each other. + </p> + <p> + “He wanted to break with her at any cost. He sold all his canvases, + borrowed money from his friends, realizing twenty thousand francs (he was + not well known then), and left them for her one morning with a note of + farewell. + </p> + <p> + “He came and took refuge with me. + </p> + <p> + “About three o'clock that afternoon there was a ring at the bell. I + went to the door. A woman sprang toward me, pushed me aside, came in and + went into my atelier. It was she! + </p> + <p> + “He had risen when he saw her coming.' + </p> + <p> + “She threw the envelope containing the banknotes at his feet with a + truly noble gesture and said in a quick tone: + </p> + <p> + “'There's your money. I don't want it!' + </p> + <p> + “She was very pale, trembling and ready undoubtedly to commit any + folly. As for him, I saw him grow pale also, pale with rage and + exasperation, ready also perhaps to commit any violence. + </p> + <p> + “He asked: + </p> + <p> + “'What do you want?' + </p> + <p> + “She replied: + </p> + <p> + “'I do not choose to be treated like a common woman. You implored me + to accept you. I asked you for nothing. Keep me with you!' + </p> + <p> + “He stamped his foot. + </p> + <p> + “'No, that's a little too much! If you think you are going—' + </p> + <p> + “I had seized his arm. + </p> + <p> + “'Keep still, Jean. . . Let me settle it.' + </p> + <p> + “I went toward her and quietly, little by little, I began to reason + with her, exhausting all the arguments that are used under similar + circumstances. She listened to me, motionless, with a fixed gaze, + obstinate and silent. + </p> + <p> + “Finally, not knowing what more to say, and seeing that there would + be a scene, I thought of a last resort and said: + </p> + <p> + “'He loves you still, my dear, but his family want him to marry some + one, and you understand—' + </p> + <p> + “She gave a start and exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “'Ah! Ah! Now I understand: + </p> + <p> + “And turning toward him, she said: + </p> + <p> + “'You are—you are going to get married?' + </p> + <p> + “He replied decidedly” 'Yes.' + </p> + <p> + “She took a step forward. + </p> + <p> + “'If you marry, I will kill myself! Do you hear?' + </p> + <p> + “He shrugged his shoulders and replied: + </p> + <p> + “'Well, then kill yourself!' + </p> + <p> + “She stammered out, almost choking with her violent emotion: + </p> + <p> + “'What do you say? What do you say? What do you say? Say it again!' + </p> + <p> + “He repeated: + </p> + <p> + “'Well, then kill yourself if you like!' + </p> + <p> + “With her face almost livid, she replied: + </p> + <p> + “'Do not dare me! I will throw myself from the window!' + </p> + <p> + “He began to laugh, walked toward the window, opened it, and bowing + with the gesture of one who desires to let some one else precede him, he + said: + </p> + <p> + “'This is the way. After you!' + </p> + <p> + “She looked at him for a second with terrible, wild, staring eyes. + Then, taking a run as if she were going to jump a hedge in the country, + she rushed past me and past him, jumped over the sill and disappeared. + </p> + <p> + “I shall never forget the impression made on me by that open window + after I had seen that body pass through it to fall to the ground. It + appeared to me in a second to be as large as the heavens and as hollow as + space. And I drew back instinctively, not daring to look at it, as though + I feared I might fall out myself. + </p> + <p> + “Jean, dumfounded, stood motionless. + </p> + <p> + “They brought the poor girl in with both legs broken. She will never + walk again. + </p> + <p> + “Jean, wild with remorse and also possibly touched with gratitude, + made up his mind to marry her. + </p> + <p> + “There you have it, old man.” + </p> + <p> + It was growing dusk. The young woman felt chilly and wanted to go home, + and the servant wheeled the invalid chair in the direction of the village. + The painter walked beside his wife, neither of them having exchanged a + word for an hour. + </p> + <p> + This story appeared in Le Gaulois, December 17, 1883. + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0125"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + A VAGABOND + </h2> + <p> + He was a journeyman carpenter, a good workman and a steady fellow, + twenty-seven years old, but, although the eldest son, Jacques Randel had + been forced to live on his family for two months, owing to the general + lack of work. He had walked about seeking work for over a month and had + left his native town, Ville-Avary, in La Manche, because he could find + nothing to do and would no longer deprive his family of the bread they + needed themselves, when he was the strongest of them all. His two sisters + earned but little as charwomen. He went and inquired at the town hall, and + the mayor's secretary told him that he would find work at the Labor + Agency, and so he started, well provided with papers and certificates, and + carrying another pair of shoes, a pair of trousers and a shirt in a blue + handkerchief at the end of his stick. + </p> + <p> + And he had walked almost without stopping, day and night, along + interminable roads, in sun and rain, without ever reaching that mysterious + country where workmen find work. At first he had the fixed idea that he + must only work as a carpenter, but at every carpenter's shop where he + applied he was told that they had just dismissed men on account of work + being so slack, and, finding himself at the end of his resources, he made + up his mind to undertake any job that he might come across on the road. + And so by turns he was a navvy, stableman, stonecutter; he split wood, + lopped the branches of trees, dug wells, mixed mortar, tied up fagots, + tended goats on a mountain, and all for a few pence, for he only obtained + two or three days' work occasionally by offering himself at a shamefully + low price, in order to tempt the avarice of employers and peasants. + </p> + <p> + And now for a week he had found nothing, and had no money left, and + nothing to eat but a piece of bread, thanks to the charity of some women + from whom he had begged at house doors on the road. It was getting dark, + and Jacques Randel, jaded, his legs failing him, his stomach empty, and + with despair in his heart, was walking barefoot on the grass by the side + of the road, for he was taking care of his last pair of shoes, as the + other pair had already ceased to exist for a long time. It was a Saturday, + toward the end of autumn. The heavy gray clouds were being driven rapidly + through the sky by the gusts of wind which whistled among the trees, and + one felt that it would rain soon. The country was deserted at that hour on + the eve of Sunday. Here and there in the fields there rose up stacks of + wheat straw, like huge yellow mushrooms, and the fields looked bare, as + they had already been sown for the next year. + </p> + <p> + Randel was hungry, with the hunger of some wild animal, such a hunger as + drives wolves to attack men. Worn out and weakened with fatigue, he took + longer strides, so as not to take so many steps, and with heavy head, the + blood throbbing in his temples, with red eyes and dry mouth, he grasped + his stick tightly in his hand, with a longing to strike the first passerby + who might be going home to supper. + </p> + <p> + He looked at the sides of the road, imagining he saw potatoes dug up and + lying on the ground before his eyes; if he had found any he would have + gathered some dead wood, made a fire in the ditch and have had a capital + supper off the warm, round vegetables with which he would first of all + have warmed his cold hands. But it was too late in the year, and he would + have to gnaw a raw beetroot which he might pick up in a field as he had + done the day before. + </p> + <p> + For the last two days he had talked to himself as he quickened his steps + under the influence of his thoughts. He had never thought much hitherto, + as he had given all his mind, all his simple faculties to his mechanical + work. But now fatigue and this desperate search for work which he could + not get, refusals and rebuffs, nights spent in the open air lying on the + grass, long fasting, the contempt which he knew people with a settled + abode felt for a vagabond, and that question which he was continually + asked, “Why do you not remain at home?” distress at not being + able to use his strong arms which he felt so full of vigor, the + recollection of the relations he had left at home and who also had not a + penny, filled him by degrees with rage, which had been accumulating every + day, every hour, every minute, and which now escaped his lips in spite of + himself in short, growling sentences. + </p> + <p> + As he stumbled over the stones which tripped his bare feet, he grumbled: + “How wretched! how miserable! A set of hogs—to let a man die + of hunger—a carpenter—a set of hogs—not two sous—not + two sous—and now it is raining—a set of hogs!” + </p> + <p> + He was indignant at the injustice of fate, and cast the blame on men, on + all men, because nature, that great, blind mother, is unjust, cruel and + perfidious, and he repeated through his clenched teeth: + </p> + <p> + “A set of hogs” as he looked at the thin gray smoke which rose + from the roofs, for it was the dinner hour. And, without considering that + there is another injustice which is human, and which is called robbery and + violence, he felt inclined to go into one of those houses to murder the + inhabitants and to sit down to table in their stead. + </p> + <p> + He said to himself: “I have no right to live now, as they are + letting me die of hunger, and yet I only ask for work—a set of hogs!” + And the pain in his limbs, the gnawing in his heart rose to his head like + terrible intoxication, and gave rise to this simple thought in his brain: + “I have the right to live because I breathe and because the air is + the common property of everybody. So nobody has the right to leave me + without bread!” + </p> + <p> + A fine, thick, icy cold rain was coming down, and he stopped and murmured: + “Oh, misery! Another month of walking before I get home.” He + was indeed returning home then, for he saw that he should more easily find + work in his native town, where he was known—and he did not mind what + he did—than on the highroads, where everybody suspected him. As the + carpentering business was not prosperous, he would turn day laborer, be a + mason's hodman, a ditcher, break stones on the road. If he only earned a + franc a day, that would at any rate buy him something to eat. + </p> + <p> + He tied the remains of his last pocket handkerchief round his neck to + prevent the cold rain from running down his back and chest, but he soon + found that it was penetrating the thin material of which his clothes were + made, and he glanced about him with the agonized look of a man who does + not know where to hide his body and to rest his head, and has no place of + shelter in the whole world. + </p> + <p> + Night came on and wrapped the country in obscurity, and in the distance, + in a meadow, he saw a dark spot on the grass; it was a cow, and so he got + over the ditch by the roadside and went up to her without exactly knowing + what he was doing. When he got close to her she raised her great head to + him, and he thought: “If I only had a jug I could get a little milk.” + He looked at the cow and the cow looked at him and then, suddenly giving + her a kick in the side, he said: “Get up!” + </p> + <p> + The animal got up slowly, letting her heavy udders bang down. Then the man + lay down on his back between the animal's legs and drank for a long time, + squeezing her warm, swollen teats, which tasted of the cowstall, with both + hands, and he drank as long as she gave any milk. But the icy rain began + to fall more heavily, and he saw no place of shelter on the whole of that + bare plain. He was cold, and he looked at a light which was shining among + the trees in the window of a house. + </p> + <p> + The cow had lain down again heavily, and he sat down by her side and + stroked her head, grateful for the nourishment she had given him. The + animal's strong, thick breath, which came out of her nostrils like two + jets of steam in the evening air, blew on the workman's face, and he said: + “You are not cold inside there!” He put his hands on her chest + and under her stomach to find some warmth there, and then the idea struck + him that he might pass the night beside that large, warm animal. So he + found a comfortable place and laid his head on her side, and then, as he + was worn out with fatigue, fell asleep immediately. + </p> + <p> + He woke up, however, several times, with his back or his stomach half + frozen, according as he put one or the other against the animal's flank. + Then he turned over to warm and dry that part of his body which had + remained exposed to the night air, and soon went soundly to sleep again. + The crowing of a cock woke him; the day was breaking, it was no longer + raining, and the sky was bright. The cow was resting with her muzzle on + the ground, and he stooped down, resting on his hands, to kiss those wide, + moist nostrils, and said: “Good-by, my beauty, until next time. You + are a nice animal. Good-by.” Then he put on his shoes and went off, + and for two hours walked straight before him, always following the same + road, and then he felt so tired that he sat down on the grass. It was + broad daylight by that time, and the church bells were ringing; men in + blue blouses, women in white caps, some on foot, some in carts, began to + pass along the road, going to the neighboring villages to spend Sunday + with friends or relations. + </p> + <p> + A stout peasant came in sight, driving before him a score of frightened, + bleating sheep, with the help of an active dog. Randel got up, and raising + his cap, said: “You do not happen to have any work for a man who is + dying of hunger?” But the other, giving an angry look at the + vagabond, replied: “I have no work for fellows whom I meet on the + road.” + </p> + <p> + And the carpenter went back and sat down by the side of the ditch again. + He waited there for a long time, watching the country people pass and + looking for a kind, compassionate face before he renewed his request, and + finally selected a man in an overcoat, whose stomach was adorned with a + gold chain. “I have been looking for work,” he said, “for + the last two months and cannot find any, and I have not a sou in my + pocket.” But the would-be gentleman replied: “You should have + read the notice which is stuck up at the entrance to the village: 'Begging + is prohibited within the boundaries of this parish.' Let me tell you that + I am the mayor, and if you do not get out of here pretty quickly I shall + have you arrested.” + </p> + <p> + Randel, who was getting angry, replied: “Have me arrested if you + like; I should prefer it, for, at any rate, I should not die of hunger.” + And he went back and sat down by the side of his ditch again, and in about + a quarter of an hour two gendarmes appeared on the road. They were walking + slowly side by side, glittering in the sun with their shining hats, their + yellow accoutrements and their metal buttons, as if to frighten evildoers, + and to put them to flight at a distance. He knew that they were coming + after him, but he did not move, for he was seized with a sudden desire to + defy them, to be arrested by them, and to have his revenge later. + </p> + <p> + They came on without appearing to have seen him, walking heavily, with + military step, and balancing themselves as if they were doing the goose + step; and then, suddenly, as they passed him, appearing to have noticed + him, they stopped and looked at him angrily and threateningly, and the + brigadier came up to him and asked: “What are you doing here?” + “I am resting,” the man replied calmly. “Where do you + come from?” “If I had to tell you all the places I have been + to it would take me more than an hour.” “Where are you going + to?” “To Ville-Avary.” “Where is that?” + “In La Manche.” “Is that where you belong?” + “It is.” “Why did you leave it?” “To look + for work.” + </p> + <p> + The brigadier turned to his gendarme and said in the angry voice of a man + who is exasperated at last by an oft-repeated trick: “They all say + that, these scamps. I know all about it.” And then he continued: + “Have you any papers?” “Yes, I have some.” “Give + them to me.” + </p> + <p> + Randel took his papers out of his pocket, his certificates, those poor, + worn-out, dirty papers which were falling to pieces, and gave them to the + soldier, who spelled them through, hemming and hawing, and then, having + seen that they were all in order, he gave them back to Randel with the + dissatisfied look of a man whom some one cleverer than himself has + tricked. + </p> + <p> + After a few moments' further reflection, he asked him: “Have you any + money on you?” “No.” “None whatever?” + “None.” “Not even a sou?” “Not even a son!” + “How do you live then?” “On what people give me.” + “Then you beg?” And Randel answered resolutely: “Yes, + when I can.” + </p> + <p> + Then the gendarme said: “I have caught you on the highroad in the + act of vagabondage and begging, without any resources or trade, and so I + command you to come with me.” The carpenter got up and said: “Wherever + you please.” And, placing himself between the two soldiers, even + before he had received the order to do so, he added: “Well, lock me + up; that will at any rate put a roof over my head when it rains.” + </p> + <p> + And they set off toward the village, the red tiles of which could be seen + through the leafless trees, a quarter of a league off. Service was about + to begin when they went through the village. The square was full of + people, who immediately formed two lines to see the criminal pass. He was + being followed by a crowd of excited children. Male and female peasants + looked at the prisoner between the two gendarmes, with hatred in their + eyes and a longing to throw stones at him, to tear his skin with their + nails, to trample him under their feet. They asked each other whether he + had committed murder or robbery. The butcher, who was an ex-'spahi', + declared that he was a deserter. The tobacconist thought that he + recognized him as the man who had that very morning passed a bad + half-franc piece off on him, and the ironmonger declared that he was the + murderer of Widow Malet, whom the police had been looking for for six + months. + </p> + <p> + In the municipal court, into which his custodians took him, Randel saw the + mayor again, sitting on the magisterial bench, with the schoolmaster by + his side. “Aha! aha!” the magistrate exclaimed, “so here + you are again, my fine fellow. I told you I should have you locked up. + Well, brigadier, what is he charged with?” + </p> + <p> + “He is a vagabond without house or home, Monsieur le Maire, without + any resources or money, so he says, who was arrested in the act of + begging, but he is provided with good testimonials, and his papers are all + in order.” + </p> + <p> + “Show me his papers,” the mayor said. He took them, read them, + reread, returned them and then said: “Search him.” So they + searched him, but found nothing, and the mayor seemed perplexed, and asked + the workman: + </p> + <p> + “What were you doing on the road this morning?” “I was + looking for work.” “Work? On the highroad?” “How + do you expect me to find any if I hide in the woods?” + </p> + <p> + They looked at each other with the hatred of two wild beasts which belong + to different hostile species, and the magistrate continued: “I am + going to have you set at liberty, but do not be brought up before me + again.” To which the carpenter replied: “I would rather you + locked me up; I have had enough running about the country.” But the + magistrate replied severely: “be silent.” And then he said to + the two gendarmes: “You will conduct this man two hundred yards from + the village and let him continue his journey.” + </p> + <p> + “At any rate, give me something to eat,” the workman said, but + the other grew indignant: “Have we nothing to do but to feed you? + Ah! ah! ah! that is rather too much!” But Randel went on firmly: + “If you let me nearly die of hunger again, you will force me to + commit a crime, and then, so much the worse for you other fat fellows.” + </p> + <p> + The mayor had risen and he repeated: “Take him away immediately or I + shall end by getting angry.” + </p> + <p> + The two gendarmes thereupon seized the carpenter by the arms and dragged + him out. He allowed them to do it without resistance, passed through the + village again and found himself on the highroad once more; and when the + men had accompanied him two hundred yards beyond the village, the + brigadier said: “Now off with you and do not let me catch you about + here again, for if I do, you will know it.” + </p> + <p> + Randel went off without replying or knowing where he was going. He walked + on for a quarter of an hour or twenty minutes, so stupefied that he no + longer thought of anything. But suddenly, as he was passing a small house, + where the window was half open, the smell of the soup and boiled meat + stopped him suddenly, and hunger, fierce, devouring, maddening hunger, + seized him and almost drove him against the walls of the house like a wild + beast. + </p> + <p> + He said aloud in a grumbling voice: “In Heaven's name! they must + give me some this time!” And he began to knock at the door + vigorously with his stick, and as no one came he knocked louder and called + out: “Hey! hey! you people in there, open the door!” And then, + as nothing stirred, he went up to the window and pushed it wider open with + his hand, and the close warm air of the kitchen, full of the smell of hot + soup, meat and cabbage, escaped into the cold outer air, and with a bound + the carpenter was in the house. Two places were set at the table, and no + doubt the proprietors of the house, on going to church, had left their + dinner on the fire, their nice Sunday boiled beef and vegetable soup, + while there was a loaf of new bread on the chimney-piece, between two + bottles which seemed full. + </p> + <p> + Randel seized the bread first of all and broke it with as much violence as + if he were strangling a man, and then he began to eat voraciously, + swallowing great mouthfuls quickly. But almost immediately the smell of + the meat attracted him to the fireplace, and, having taken off the lid of + the saucepan, he plunged a fork into it and brought out a large piece of + beef tied with a string. Then he took more cabbage, carrots and onions + until his plate was full, and, having put it on the table, he sat down + before it, cut the meat into four pieces, and dined as if he had been at + home. When he had eaten nearly all the meat, besides a quantity of + vegetables, he felt thirsty and took one of the bottles off the + mantelpiece. + </p> + <p> + Scarcely had he poured the liquor into his glass when he saw it was + brandy. So much the better; it was warming and would instill some fire + into his veins, and that would be all right, after being so cold; and he + drank some. He certainly enjoyed it, for he had grown unaccustomed to it, + and he poured himself out another glassful, which he drank at two gulps. + And then almost immediately he felt quite merry and light-hearted from the + effects of the alcohol, just as if some great happiness filled his heart. + </p> + <p> + He continued to eat, but more slowly, and dipping his bread into the soup. + His skin had become burning, and especially his forehead, where the veins + were throbbing. But suddenly the church bells began to ring. Mass was + over, and instinct rather than fear, the instinct of prudence, which + guides all beings and makes them clear-sighted in danger, made the + carpenter get up. He put the remains of the loaf into one pocket and the + brandy bottle into the other, and he furtively went to the window and + looked out into the road. It was still deserted, so he jumped out and set + off walking again, but instead of following the highroad he ran across the + fields toward a wood he saw a little way off. + </p> + <p> + He felt alert, strong, light-hearted, glad of what he had done, and so + nimble that he sprang over the enclosure of the fields at a single bound, + and as soon as he was under the trees he took the bottle out of his pocket + again and began to drink once more, swallowing it down as he walked, and + then his ideas began to get confused, his eyes grew dim, and his legs as + elastic as springs, and he started singing the old popular song: + </p> +<div class='pre'> + “Oh! what joy, what joy it is, + To pick the sweet, wild strawberries.” + </div> + <p> + He was now walking on thick, damp, cool moss, and that soft carpet under + his feet made him feel absurdly inclined to turn head over heels as he + used to do when a child, so he took a run, turned a somersault, got up and + began over again. And between each time he began to sing again: + </p> +<div class='pre'> + “Oh! what joy, what joy it is, + To pick the sweet, wild strawberries.” + </div> + <p> + Suddenly he found himself above a deep road, and in the road he saw a tall + girl, a servant, who was returning to the village with two pails of milk. + He watched, stooping down, and with his eyes as bright as those of a dog + who scents a quail, but she saw him raised her head and said: “Was + that you singing like that?” He did not reply, however, but jumped + down into the road, although it was a fall of at least six feet and when + she saw him suddenly standing in front of her, she exclaimed: “Oh! + dear, how you frightened me!” + </p> + <p> + But he did not hear her, for he was drunk, he was mad, excited by another + requirement which was more imperative than hunger, more feverish than + alcohol; by the irresistible fury of the man who has been deprived of + everything for two months, and who is drunk; who is young, ardent and + inflamed by all the appetites which nature has implanted in the vigorous + flesh of men. + </p> + <p> + The girl started back from him, frightened at his face, his eyes, his + half-open mouth, his outstretched hands, but he seized her by the + shoulders, and without a word, threw her down in the road. + </p> + <p> + She let her two pails fall, and they rolled over noisily, and all the milk + was spilt, and then she screamed lustily, but it was of no avail in that + lonely spot. + </p> + <p> + When she got up the thought of her overturned pails suddenly filled her + with fury, and, taking off one of her wooden sabots, she threw it at the + man to break his head if he did not pay her for her milk. + </p> + <p> + But he, mistaking the reason of this sudden violent attack, somewhat + sobered, and frightened at what he had done, ran off as fast as he could, + while she threw stones at him, some of which hit him in the back. + </p> + <p> + He ran for a long time, very long, until he felt more tired than he had + ever been before. His legs were so weak that they could scarcely carry + him; all his ideas were confused, he lost recollection of everything and + could no longer think about anything, and so he sat down at the foot of a + tree, and in five minutes was fast asleep. He was soon awakened, however, + by a rough shake, and, on opening his eyes, he saw two cocked hats of + shiny leather bending over him, and the two gendarmes of the morning, who + were holding him and binding his arms. + </p> + <p> + “I knew I should catch you again,” said the brigadier + jeeringly. But Randel got up without replying. The two men shook him, + quite ready to ill treat him if he made a movement, for he was their prey + now. He had become a jailbird, caught by those hunters of criminals who + would not let him go again. + </p> + <p> + “Now, start!” the brigadier said, and they set off. It was + late afternoon, and the autumn twilight was setting in over the land, and + in half an hour they reached the village, where every door was open, for + the people had heard what had happened. Peasants and peasant women and + girls, excited with anger, as if every man had been robbed and every woman + attacked, wished to see the wretch brought back, so that they might + overwhelm him with abuse. They hooted him from the first house in the + village until they reached the Hotel de Ville, where the mayor was waiting + for him to be himself avenged on this vagabond, and as soon as he saw him + approaching he cried: + </p> + <p> + “Ah! my fine fellow! here we are!” And he rubbed his hands, + more pleased than he usually was, and continued: “I said so. I said + so, the moment I saw him in the road.” + </p> + <p> + And then with increased satisfaction: + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you blackguard! Oh, you dirty blackguard! You will get your + twenty years, my fine fellow!” + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0126"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + THE FISHING HOLE + </h2> + <p> + “Cuts and wounds which caused death.” Such was the charge upon + which Leopold Renard, upholsterer, was summoned before the Court of + Assizes. + </p> + <p> + Round him were the principal witnesses, Madame Flameche, widow of the + victim, and Louis Ladureau, cabinetmaker, and Jean Durdent, plumber. + </p> + <p> + Near the criminal was his wife, dressed in black, an ugly little woman, + who looked like a monkey dressed as a lady. + </p> + <p> + This is how Renard (Leopold) recounted the drama. + </p> + <p> + “Good heavens, it is a misfortune of which I was the prime victim + all the time, and with which my will has nothing to do. The facts are + their own commentary, Monsieur le President. I am an honest man, a + hard-working man, an upholsterer, living in the same street for the last + sixteen years, known, liked, respected and esteemed by all, as my + neighbors can testify, even the porter's wife, who is not amiable every + day. I am fond of work, I am fond of saving, I like honest men and + respectable amusements. That is what has ruined me, so much the worse for + me; but as my will had nothing to do with it, I continue to respect + myself. + </p> + <p> + “Every Sunday for the last five years my wife and I have spent the + day at Passy. We get fresh air, and, besides, we are fond of fishing. Oh! + we are as fond of it as we are of little onions. Melie inspired me with + that enthusiasm, the jade, and she is more enthusiastic than I am, the + scold, seeing that all the mischief in this business is her fault, as you + will see immediately. + </p> + <p> + “I am strong and mild tempered, without a pennyworth of malice in + me. But she! oh! la! la! she looks like nothing; she is short and thin. + Very well, she does more mischief than a weasel. I do not deny that she + has some good qualities; she has some, and very important ones for a man + in business. But her character! Just ask about it in the neighborhood, and + even the porter's wife, who has just sent me about my business—she + will tell you something about it. + </p> + <p> + “Every day she used to find fault with my mild temper: 'I would not + put up with this! I would not put up with that.' If I had listened to her, + Monsieur le President, I should have had at least three hand-to-hand + fights a month . . . .” + </p> + <p> + Madame Renard interrupted him: “And for good reasons, too; they + laugh best who laugh last.” + </p> + <p> + He turned toward her frankly: “Well, I can't blame you, since you + were not the cause of it.” + </p> + <p> + Then, facing the President again, he said: + </p> + <p> + “I will continue. We used to go to Passy every Saturday evening, so + as to begin fishing at daybreak the next morning. It is a habit which has + become second nature with us, as the saying is. Three years ago this + summer I discovered a place, oh! such a spot. Oh, dear, dear! In the + shade, eight feet of water at least and perhaps ten, a hole with cavities + under the bank, a regular nest for fish and a paradise for the fisherman. + I might look upon that fishing hole as my property, Monsieur le President, + as I was its Christopher Columbus. Everybody in the neighborhood knew it, + without making any opposition. They would say: 'That is Renard's place'; + and nobody would have gone there, not even Monsieur Plumeau, who is well + known, be it said without any offense, for poaching on other people's + preserves. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I returned to this place of which I felt certain, just as if + I had owned it. I had scarcely got there on Saturday, when I got into + Delila, with my wife. Delila is my Norwegian boat, which I had built by + Fournaire, and which is light and safe. Well, as I said, we got into the + boat and we were going to set bait, and for setting bait there is none to + be compared with me, and they all know it. You want to know with what I + bait? I cannot answer that question; it has nothing to do with the + accident. I cannot answer; that is my secret. There are more than three + hundred people who have asked me; I have been offered glasses of brandy + and liqueur, fried fish, matelotes, to make me tell. But just go and try + whether the chub will come. Ah! they have tempted my stomach to get at my + secret, my recipe. Only my wife knows, and she will not tell it any more + than I will. Is not that so, Melie?” + </p> + <p> + The president of the court interrupted him. + </p> + <p> + “Just get to the facts as soon as you can,” and the accused + continued: “I am getting to them, I am getting to them. Well, on + Saturday, July 8, we left by the twenty-five past five train and before + dinner we went to set bait as usual. The weather promised to keep fine and + I said to Melie: 'All right for tomorrow.' And she replied: 'If looks like + it,' We never talk more than that together. + </p> + <p> + “And then we returned to dinner. I was happy and thirsty, and that + was the cause of everything. I said to Melie: 'Look here, Melie, it is + fine weather, suppose I drink a bottle of 'Casque a meche'.' That is a + weak white wine which we have christened so, because if you drink too much + of it it prevents you from sleeping and takes the place of a nightcap. Do + you understand me? + </p> + <p> + “She replied: 'You can do as you please, but you will be ill again + and will not be able to get up tomorrow.' That was true, sensible and + prudent, clear-sighted, I must confess. Nevertheless I could not resist, + and I drank my bottle. It all came from that. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I could not sleep. By Jove! it kept me awake till two o'clock + in the morning, and then I went to sleep so soundly that I should not have + heard the angel sounding his trump at the last judgment. + </p> + <p> + “In short, my wife woke me at six o'clock and I jumped out of bed, + hastily put on my trousers and jersey, washed my face and jumped on board + Delila. But it was too late, for when I arrived at my hole it was already + occupied! Such a thing had never happened to me in three years, and it + made me feel as if I were being robbed under my own eyes. I said to + myself: 'Confound it all! confound it!' And then my wife began to nag at + me. 'Eh! what about your 'Casque a meche'? Get along, you drunkard! Are + you satisfied, you great fool?' I could say nothing, because it was all + true, but I landed all the same near the spot and tried to profit by what + was left. Perhaps after all the fellow might catch nothing and go away. + </p> + <p> + “He was a little thin man in white linen coat and waistcoat and a + large straw hat, and his wife, a fat woman, doing embroidery, sat behind + him. + </p> + <p> + “When she saw us take up our position close to them she murmured: + 'Are there no other places on the river?' My wife, who was furious, + replied: 'People who have any manners make inquiries about the habits of + the neighborhood before occupying reserved spots.' + </p> + <p> + “As I did not want a fuss, I said to her: 'Hold your tongue, Melie. + Let them alone, let them alone; we shall see.' + </p> + <p> + “Well, we fastened Delila under the willows and had landed and were + fishing side by side, Melie and I, close to the two others. But here, + monsieur, I must enter into details. + </p> + <p> + “We had only been there about five minutes when our neighbor's line + began to jerk twice, thrice; and then he pulled out a chub as thick as my + thigh; rather less, perhaps, but nearly as big! My heart beat, the + perspiration stood on my forehead and Melie said to me: 'Well, you sot, + did you see that?' + </p> + <p> + “Just then Monsieur Bru, the grocer of Poissy, who is fond of + gudgeon fishing, passed in a boat and called out to me: 'So somebody has + taken your usual place, Monsieur Renard?' And I replied: 'Yes, Monsieur + Bru, there are some people in this world who do not know the rules of + common politeness.' + </p> + <p> + “The little man in linen pretended not to hear, nor his fat lump of + a wife, either.” + </p> + <p> + Here the president interrupted him a second time: “Take care, you + are insulting the widow, Madame Flameche, who is present.” + </p> + <p> + Renard made his excuses: “I beg your pardon, I beg your pardon; my + anger carried me away. Well, not a quarter of an hour had passed when the + little man caught another chub, and another almost immediately, and + another five minutes later. + </p> + <p> + “Tears were in my eyes, and I knew that Madame Renard was boiling + with rage, for she kept on nagging at me: 'Oh, how horrid! Don't you see + that he is robbing you of your fish? Do you think that you will catch + anything? Not even a frog, nothing whatever. Why, my hands are tingling, + just to think of it.' + </p> + <p> + “But I said to myself: 'Let us wait until twelve o'clock. Then this + poacher will go to lunch and I shall get my place again. As for me, + Monsieur le President, I lunch on that spot every Sunday. We bring our + provisions in Delila. But there! At noon the wretch produced a chicken in + a newspaper, and while he was eating, he actually caught another chub! + </p> + <p> + “Melie and I had a morsel also, just a bite, a mere nothing, for our + heart was not in it. + </p> + <p> + “Then I took up my newspaper to aid my digestion. Every Sunday I + read the Gil Blas in the shade by the side of the water. It is Columbine's + day, you know; Columbine, who writes the articles in the Gil Blas. I + generally put Madame Renard into a rage by pretending to know this + Columbine. It is not true, for I do not know her and have never seen her, + but that does not matter. She writes very well, and then she says things + that are pretty plain for a woman. She suits me and there are not many of + her sort. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I began to tease my wife, but she got angry immediately, and + very angry, so I held my tongue. At that moment our two witnesses who are + present here, Monsieur Ladureau and Monsieur Durdent, appeared on the + other side of the river. We knew each other by sight. The little man began + to fish again and he caught so many that I trembled with vexation and his + wife said: 'It is an uncommonly good spot, and we will come here always, + Desire.' As for me, a cold shiver ran down my back, and Madame Renard kept + repeating: 'You are not a man; you have the blood of a chicken in your + veins'; and suddenly I said to her: 'Look here, I would rather go away or + I shall be doing something foolish.' + </p> + <p> + “And she whispered to me, as if she had put a red-hot iron under my + nose: 'You are not a man. Now you are going to run away and surrender your + place! Go, then, Bazaine!' + </p> + <p> + “I felt hurt, but yet I did not move, while the other fellow pulled + out a bream: Oh, I never saw such a large one before, never! And then my + wife began to talk aloud, as if she were thinking, and you can see her + tricks. She said: 'That is what one might call stolen fish, seeing that we + set the bait ourselves. At any rate, they ought to give us back the money + we have spent on bait.' + </p> + <p> + “Then the fat woman in the cotton dress said in her turn: 'Do you + mean to call us thieves, madame?' Explanations followed and compliments + began to fly. Oh, Lord! those creatures know some good ones. They shouted + so loud that our two witnesses, who were on the other bank, began to call + out by way of a joke: 'Less noise over there; you will interfere with your + husbands' fishing.' + </p> + <p> + “The fact is that neither the little man nor I moved any more than + if we had been two tree stumps. We remained there, with our eyes fixed on + the water, as if we had heard nothing; but, by Jove! we heard all the + same. 'You are a thief! You are nothing better than a tramp! You are a + regular jade!' and so on and so on. A sailor could not have said more. + </p> + <p> + “Suddenly I heard a noise behind me and turned round. It was the + other one, the fat woman, who had attacked my wife with her parasol. + Whack, whack! Melie got two of them. But she was furious, and she hits + hard when she is in a rage. She caught the fat woman by the hair and then + thump! thump! slaps in the face rained down like ripe plums. I should have + let them fight it out: women together, men together. It does not do to mix + the blows. But the little man in the linen jacket jumped up like a devil + and was going to rush at my wife. Ah! no, no, not that, my friend! I + caught the gentleman with the end of my fist, and crash! crash! One on the + nose, the other in the stomach. He threw up his arms and legs and fell on + his back into the river, just into the hole. + </p> + <p> + “I should have fished him out most certainly, Monsieur le President, + if I had had time. But, to make matters worse, the fat woman had the upper + hand and was pounding Melie for all she was worth. I know I ought not to + have interfered while the man was in the water, but I never thought that + he would drown and said to myself: 'Bah, it will cool him.' + </p> + <p> + “I therefore ran up to the women to separate them and all I received + was scratches and bites. Good Lord, what creatures! Well, it took me five + minutes, and perhaps ten, to separate those two viragos. When I turned + round there was nothing to be seen. + </p> + <p> + “The water was as smooth as a lake and the others yonder kept + shouting: 'Fish him out! fish him out!' It was all very well to say that, + but I cannot swim and still less dive. + </p> + <p> + “At last the man from the dam came and two gentlemen with boathooks, + but over a quarter of an hour had passed. He was found at the bottom of + the hole, in eight feet of water, as I have said. There he was, the poor + little man, in his linen suit! Those are the facts such as I have sworn + to. I am innocent, on my honor.” + </p> + <p> + The witnesses having given testimony to the same effect, the accused was + acquitted. + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0127"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + THE SPASM + </h2> + <p> + The hotel guests slowly entered the dining-room and took their places. The + waiters did not hurry themselves, in order to give the late comers a + chance and thus avoid the trouble of bringing in the dishes a second time. + The old bathers, the habitues, whose season was almost over, glanced, + gazed toward the door whenever it opened, to see what new faces might + appear. + </p> + <p> + This is the principal distraction of watering places. People look forward + to the dinner hour in order to inspect each day's new arrivals, to find + out who they are, what they do, and what they think. We always have a + vague desire to meet pleasant people, to make agreeable acquaintances, + perhaps to meet with a love adventure. In this life of elbowings, unknown + strangers assume an extreme importance. Curiosity is aroused, sympathy is + ready to exhibit itself, and sociability is the order of the day. + </p> + <p> + We cherish antipathies for a week and friendships for a month; we see + people with different eyes, when we view them through the medium of + acquaintanceship at watering places. We discover in men suddenly, after an + hour's chat, in the evening after dinner, under the trees in the park + where the healing spring bubbles up, a high intelligence and astonishing + merits, and a month afterward we have completely forgotten these new + friends, who were so fascinating when we first met them. + </p> + <p> + Permanent and serious ties are also formed here sooner than anywhere else. + People see each other every day; they become acquainted very quickly, and + their affection is tinged with the sweetness and unrestraint of + long-standing intimacies. We cherish in after years the dear and tender + memories of those first hours of friendship, the memory of those first + conversations in which a soul was unveiled, of those first glances which + interrogate and respond to questions and secret thoughts which the mouth + has not as yet uttered, the memory of that first cordial confidence, the + memory of that delightful sensation of opening our hearts to those who + seem to open theirs to us in return. + </p> + <p> + And the melancholy of watering places, the monotony of days that are all + alike, proves hourly an incentive to this heart expansion. + </p> + <p> + Well, this evening, as on every other evening, we awaited the appearance + of strange faces. + </p> + <p> + Only two appeared, but they were very remarkable, a man and a woman + —father and daughter. They immediately reminded me of some of Edgar + Poe's characters; and yet there was about them a charm, the charm + associated with misfortune. I looked upon them as the victims of fate. The + man was very tall and thin, rather stooped, with perfectly white hair, too + white for his comparatively youthful physiognomy; and there was in his + bearing and in his person that austerity peculiar to Protestants. The + daughter, who was probably twenty-four or twenty-five, was small in + stature, and was also very thin, very pale, and she had the air of one who + was worn out with utter lassitude. We meet people like this from time to + time, who seem too weak for the tasks and the needs of daily life, too + weak to move about, to walk, to do all that we do every day. She was + rather pretty; with a transparent, spiritual beauty. And she ate with + extreme slowness, as if she were almost incapable of moving her arms. + </p> + <p> + It must have been she, assuredly, who had come to take the waters. + </p> + <p> + They sat facing me, on the opposite side of the table; and I at once + noticed that the father had a very singular, nervous twitching. + </p> + <p> + Every time he wanted to reach an object, his hand described a sort of + zigzag before it succeeded in reaching what it was in search of, and after + a little while this movement annoyed me so that I turned aside my head in + order not to see it. + </p> + <p> + I noticed, too, that the young girl, during meals, wore a glove on her + left hand. + </p> + <p> + After dinner I went for a stroll in the park of the bathing establishment. + This led toward the little Auvergnese station of Chatel-Guyon, hidden in a + gorge at the foot of the high mountain, from which flowed so many boiling + springs, arising from the deep bed of extinct volcanoes. Over yonder, + above our heads, the domes of extinct craters lifted their ragged peaks + above the rest in the long mountain chain. For Chatel-Guyon is situated at + the entrance to the land of mountain domes. + </p> + <p> + Beyond it stretches out the region of peaks, and, farther on again the + region of precipitous summits. + </p> + <p> + The “Puy de Dome” is the highest of the domes, the Peak of + Sancy is the loftiest of the peaks, and Cantal is the most precipitous of + these mountain heights. + </p> + <p> + It was a very warm evening, and I was walking up and down a shady path, + listening to the opening, strains of the Casino band, which was playing on + an elevation overlooking the park. + </p> + <p> + And I saw the father and the daughter advancing slowly in my direction. I + bowed as one bows to one's hotel companions at a watering place; and the + man, coming to a sudden halt, said to me: + </p> + <p> + “Could you not, monsieur, tell us of a nice walk to take, short, + pretty, and not steep; and pardon my troubling you?” + </p> + <p> + I offered to show them the way toward the valley through which the little + river flowed, a deep valley forming a gorge between two tall, craggy, + wooded slopes. + </p> + <p> + They gladly accepted my offer. + </p> + <p> + And we talked, naturally, about the virtue of the waters. + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” he said, “my daughter has a strange malady, the + seat of which is unknown. She suffers from incomprehensible nervous + attacks. At one time the doctors think she has an attack of heart disease, + at another time they imagine it is some affection of the liver, and at + another they declare it to be a disease of the spine. To-day this protean + malady, that assumes a thousand forms and a thousand modes of attack, is + attributed to the stomach, which is the great caldron and regulator of the + body. This is why we have come here. For my part, I am rather inclined to + think it is the nerves. In any case it is very sad.” + </p> + <p> + Immediately the remembrance of the violent spasmodic movement of his hand + came back to my mind, and I asked him: + </p> + <p> + “But is this not the result of heredity? Are not your own nerves + somewhat affected?” + </p> + <p> + He replied calmly: + </p> + <p> + “Mine? Oh, no-my nerves have always been very steady.” + </p> + <p> + Then, suddenly, after a pause, he went on: + </p> + <p> + “Ah! You were alluding to the jerking movement of my hand every time + I try to reach for anything? This arises from a terrible experience which + I had. Just imagine, this daughter of mine was actually buried alive!” + </p> + <p> + I could only utter, “Ah!” so great were my astonishment and + emotion. + </p> + <p> + He continued: + </p> + <p> + “Here is the story. It is simple. Juliette had been subject for some + time to serious attacks of the heart. We believed that she had disease of + that organ, and were prepared for the worst. + </p> + <p> + “One day she was carried into the house cold, lifeless, dead. She + had fallen down unconscious in the garden. The doctor certified that life + was extinct. I watched by her side for a day and two nights. I laid her + with my own hands in the coffin, which I accompanied to the cemetery, + where she was deposited in the family vault. It is situated in the very + heart of Lorraine. + </p> + <p> + “I wished to have her interred with her jewels, bracelets, + necklaces, rings, all presents which she had received from me, and wearing + her first ball dress. + </p> + <p> + “You may easily imagine my state of mind when I re-entered our home. + She was the only one I had, for my wife had been dead for many years. I + found my way to my own apartment in a half-distracted condition, utterly + exhausted, and sank into my easy-chair, without the capacity to think or + the strength to move. I was nothing better now than a suffering, vibrating + machine, a human being who had, as it were, been flayed alive; my soul was + like an open wound. + </p> + <p> + “My old valet, Prosper, who had assisted me in placing Juliette in + her coffin, and aided me in preparing her for her last sleep, entered the + room noiselessly, and asked: + </p> + <p> + “'Does monsieur want anything?' + </p> + <p> + “I merely shook my head in reply. + </p> + <p> + “'Monsieur is wrong,' he urged. 'He will injure his health. Would + monsieur like me to put him to bed?' + </p> + <p> + “I answered: 'No, let me alone!' + </p> + <p> + “And he left the room. + </p> + <p> + “I know not how many hours slipped away. Oh, what a night, what a + night! It was cold. My fire had died out in the huge grate; and the wind, + the winter wind, an icy wind, a winter hurricane, blew with a regular, + sinister noise against the windows. + </p> + <p> + “How many hours slipped away? There I was without sleeping, + powerless, crushed, my eyes wide open, my legs stretched out, my body + limp, inanimate, and my mind torpid with despair. Suddenly the great + doorbell, the great bell of the vestibule, rang out. + </p> + <p> + “I started so that my chair cracked under me. The solemn, ponderous + sound vibrated through the empty country house as through a vault. I + turned round to see what the hour was by the clock. It was just two in the + morning. Who could be coming at such an hour? + </p> + <p> + “And, abruptly, the bell again rang twice. The servants, without + doubt, were afraid to get up. I took a wax candle and descended the + stairs. I was on the point of asking: 'Who is there?' + </p> + <p> + “Then I felt ashamed of my weakness, and I slowly drew back the + heavy bolts. My heart was throbbing wildly. I was frightened. I opened the + door brusquely, and in the darkness I distinguished a white figure, + standing erect, something that resembled an apparition. + </p> + <p> + “I recoiled petrified with horror, faltering: + </p> + <p> + “'Who-who-who are you?' + </p> + <p> + “A voice replied: + </p> + <p> + “'It is I, father.' + </p> + <p> + “It was my daughter. + </p> + <p> + “I really thought I must be mad, and I retreated backward before + this advancing spectre. I kept moving away, making a sign with my hand,' + as if to drive the phantom away, that gesture which you have noticed—that + gesture which has remained with me ever since. + </p> + <p> + “'Do not be afraid, papa,' said the apparition. 'I was not dead. + Somebody tried to steal my rings and cut one of my fingers; the blood + began to flow, and that restored me to life.' + </p> + <p> + “And, in fact, I could see that her hand was covered with blood. + </p> + <p> + “I fell on my knees, choking with sobs and with a rattling in my + throat. + </p> + <p> + “Then, when I had somewhat collected my thoughts, though I was still + so bewildered that I scarcely realized the awesome happiness that had + befallen me, I made her go up to my room and sit dawn in my easy-chair; + then I rang excitedly for Prosper to get him to rekindle the fire and to + bring some wine, and to summon assistance. + </p> + <p> + “The man entered, stared at my daughter, opened his mouth with a + gasp of alarm and stupefaction, and then fell back dead. + </p> + <p> + “It was he who had opened the vault, who had mutilated and then + abandoned my daughter; for he could not efface the traces of the theft. He + had not even taken the trouble to put back the coffin into its place, + feeling sure, besides, that he would not be suspected by me, as I trusted + him absolutely. + </p> + <p> + “You see, monsieur, that we are very unfortunate people.” + </p> + <p> + He was silent. + </p> + <p> + The night had fallen, casting its shadows over the desolate, mournful + vale, and a sort of mysterious fear possessed me at finding myself by the + side of those strange beings, of this young girl who had come back from + the tomb, and this father with his uncanny spasm. + </p> + <p> + I found it impossible to make any comment on this dreadful story. I only + murmured: + </p> + <p> + “What a horrible thing!” + </p> + <p> + Then, after a minute's silence, I added: + </p> + <p> + “Let us go indoors. I think it is growing cool.” + </p> + <p> + And we made our way back to the hotel. + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0128"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + IN THE WOOD + </h2> + <p> + As the mayor was about to sit down to breakfast, word was brought to him + that the rural policeman, with two prisoners, was awaiting him at the + Hotel de Ville. He went there at once and found old Hochedur standing + guard before a middle-class couple whom he was regarding with a severe + expression on his face. + </p> + <p> + The man, a fat old fellow with a red nose and white hair, seemed utterly + dejected; while the woman, a little roundabout individual with shining + cheeks, looked at the official who had arrested them, with defiant eyes. + </p> + <p> + “What is it? What is it, Hochedur?” + </p> + <p> + The rural policeman made his deposition: He had gone out that morning at + his usual time, in order to patrol his beat from the forest of Champioux + as far as the boundaries of Argenteuil. He had not noticed anything + unusual in the country except that it was a fine day, and that the wheat + was doing well, when the son of old Bredel, who was going over his vines, + called out to him: “Here, Daddy Hochedur, go and have a look at the + outskirts of the wood. In the first thicket you will find a pair of + pigeons who must be a hundred and thirty years old between them!” + </p> + <p> + He went in the direction indicated, entered the thicket, and there he + heard words which made him suspect a flagrant breach of morality. + Advancing, therefore, on his hands and knees as if to surprise a poacher, + he had arrested the couple whom he found there. + </p> + <p> + The mayor looked at the culprits in astonishment, for the man was + certainly sixty, and the woman fifty-five at least, and he began to + question them, beginning with the man, who replied in such a weak voice + that he could scarcely be heard. + </p> + <p> + “What is your name?” + </p> + <p> + “Nicholas Beaurain.” + </p> + <p> + “Your occupation?” + </p> + <p> + “Haberdasher, in the Rue des Martyrs, in Paris.” + </p> + <p> + “What were you doing in the wood?” + </p> + <p> + The haberdasher remained silent, with his eyes on his fat paunch, and his + hands hanging at his sides, and the mayor continued: + </p> + <p> + “Do you deny what the officer of the municipal authorities states?” + </p> + <p> + “No, monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + “So you confess it?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + “What have you to say in your defence?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing, monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + “Where did you meet the partner in your misdemeanor?” + </p> + <p> + “She is my wife, monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + “Your wife?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + “Then—then—you do not live together-in Paris?” + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon, monsieur, but we are living together!” + </p> + <p> + “But in that case—you must be mad, altogether mad, my dear + sir, to get caught playing lovers in the country at ten o'clock in the + morning.” + </p> + <p> + The haberdasher seemed ready to cry with shame, and he muttered: “It + was she who enticed me! I told her it was very stupid, but when a woman + once gets a thing into her head—you know—you cannot get it + out.” + </p> + <p> + The mayor, who liked a joke, smiled and replied: “In your case, the + contrary ought to have happened. You would not be here, if she had had the + idea only in her head.” + </p> + <p> + Then Monsieur Beauain was seized with rage and turning to his wife, he + said: “Do you see to what you have brought us with your poetry? And + now we shall have to go before the courts at our age, for a breach of + morals! And we shall have to shut up the shop, sell our good will, and go + to some other neighborhood! That's what it has come to.” + </p> + <p> + Madame Beaurain got up, and without looking at her husband, she explained + herself without embarrassment, without useless modesty, and almost without + hesitation. + </p> + <p> + “Of course, monsieur, I know that we have made ourselves ridiculous. + Will you allow me to plead my cause like an advocate, or rather like a + poor woman? And I hope that you will be kind enough to send us home, and + to spare us the disgrace of a prosecution. + </p> + <p> + “Years ago, when I was young, I made Monsieur Beaurain's + acquaintance one Sunday in this neighborhood. He was employed in a + draper's shop, and I was a saleswoman in a ready-made clothing + establishment. I remember it as if it were yesterday. I used to come and + spend Sundays here occasionally with a friend of mine, Rose Leveque, with + whom I lived in the Rue Pigalle, and Rose had a sweetheart, while I had + none. He used to bring us here, and one Saturday he told me laughing that + he should bring a friend with him the next day. I quite understood what he + meant, but I replied that it would be no good; for I was virtuous, + monsieur. + </p> + <p> + “The next day we met Monsieur Beaurain at the railway station, and + in those days he was good-looking, but I had made up my mind not to + encourage him, and I did not. Well, we arrived at Bezons. It was a lovely + day, the sort of day that touches your heart. When it is fine even now, + just as it used to be formerly, I grow quite foolish, and when I am in the + country I utterly lose my head. The green grass, the swallows flying so + swiftly, the smell of the grass, the scarlet poppies, the daisies, all + that makes me crazy. It is like champagne when one is not accustomed to + it! + </p> + <p> + “Well, it was lovely weather, warm and bright, and it seemed to + penetrate your body through your eyes when you looked and through your + mouth when you breathed. Rose and Simon hugged and kissed each other every + minute, and that gave me a queer feeling! Monsieur Beaurain and I walked + behind them, without speaking much, for when people do not know each + other, they do not find anything to talk about. He looked timid, and I + liked to see his embarrassment. At last we got to the little wood; it was + as cool as in a bath there, and we four sat down. Rose and her lover + teased me because I looked rather stern, but you will understand that I + could not be otherwise. And then they began to kiss and hug again, without + putting any more restraint upon themselves than if we had not been there; + and then they whispered together, and got up and went off among the trees, + without saying a word. You may fancy what I looked like, alone with this + young fellow whom I saw for the first time. I felt so confused at seeing + them go that it gave me courage, and I began to talk. I asked him what his + business was, and he said he was a linen draper's assistant, as I told you + just now. We talked for a few minutes, and that made him bold, and he + wanted to take liberties with me, but I told him sharply to keep his + place. Is not that true, Monsieur Beaurain?” + </p> + <p> + Monsieur Beaurain, who was looking at his feet in confusion, did not + reply, and she continued: “Then he saw that I was virtuous, and he + began to make love to me nicely, like an honorable man, and from that time + he came every Sunday, for he was very much in love with me. I was very + fond of him also, very fond of him! He was a good-looking fellow, + formerly, and in short he married me the next September, and we started in + business in the Rue des Martyrs. + </p> + <p> + “It was a hard struggle for some years, monsieur. Business did not + prosper, and we could not afford many country excursions, and, besides, we + had got out of the way of them. One has other things in one's head, and + thinks more of the cash box than of pretty speeches, when one is in + business. We were growing old by degrees without perceiving it, like quiet + people who do not think much about love. One does not regret anything as + long as one does not notice what one has lost. + </p> + <p> + “And then, monsieur, business became better, and we were tranquil as + to the future! Then, you see, I do not exactly know what went on in my + mind, no, I really do not know, but I began to dream like a little + boarding-school girl. The sight of the little carts full of flowers which + are drawn about the streets made me cry; the smell of violets sought me + out in my easy-chair, behind my cash box, and made my heart beat! Then I + would get up and go out on the doorstep to look at the blue sky between + the roofs. When one looks up at the sky from the street, it looks like a + river which is descending on Paris, winding as it flows, and the swallows + pass to and fro in it like fish. These ideas are very stupid at my age! + But how can one help it, monsieur, when one has worked all one's life? A + moment comes in which one perceives that one could have done something + else, and that one regrets, oh! yes, one feels intense regret! Just think, + for twenty years I might have gone and had kisses in the woods, like other + women. I used to think how delightful it would be to lie under the trees + and be in love with some one! And I thought of it every day and every + night! I dreamed of the moonlight on the water, until I felt inclined to + drown myself. + </p> + <p> + “I did not venture to speak to Monsieur Beaurain about this at + first. I knew that he would make fun of me, and send me back to sell my + needles and cotton! And then, to speak the truth, Monsieur Beaurain never + said much to me, but when I looked in the glass, I also understood quite + well that I no longer appealed to any one! + </p> + <p> + “Well, I made up my mind, and I proposed to him an excursion into + the country, to the place where we had first become acquainted. He agreed + without mistrusting anything, and we arrived here this morning, about nine + o'clock. + </p> + <p> + “I felt quite young again when I got among the wheat, for a woman's + heart never grows old! And really, I no longer saw my husband as he is at + present, but just as he was formerly! That I will swear to you, monsieur. + As true as I am standing here I was crazy. I began to kiss him, and he was + more surprised than if I had tried to murder him. He kept saying to me: + 'Why, you must be mad! You are mad this morning! What is the matter with + you?' I did not listen to him, I only listened to my own heart, and I made + him come into the wood with me. That is all. I have spoken the truth, + Monsieur le Maire, the whole truth.” + </p> + <p> + The mayor was a sensible man. He rose from his chair, smiled, and said: + “Go in peace, madame, and when you again visit our forests, be more + discreet.” + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0129"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + MARTINE + </h2> + <p> + It came to him one Sunday after mass. He was walking home from church + along the by-road that led to his house when he saw ahead of him Martine, + who was also going home. + </p> + <p> + Her father walked beside his daughter with the important gait of a rich + farmer. Discarding the smock, he wore a short coat of gray cloth and on + his head a round-topped hat with wide brim. + </p> + <p> + She, laced up in a corset which she wore only once a week, walked along + erect, with her squeezed-in waist, her broad shoulders and prominent hips, + swinging herself a little. She wore a hat trimmed with flowers, made by a + milliner at Yvetot, and displayed the back of her full, round, supple + neck, reddened by the sun and air, on which fluttered little stray locks + of hair. + </p> + <p> + Benoist saw only her back; but he knew well the face he loved, without, + however, having ever noticed it more closely than he did now. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly he said: “Nom d'un nom, she is a fine girl, all the same, + that Martine.” He watched her as she walked, admiring her hastily, + feeling a desire taking possession of him. He did not long to see her face + again, no. He kept gazing at her figure, repeating to himself: “Nom + d'un nom, she is a fine girl.” + </p> + <p> + Martine turned to the right to enter “La Martiniere,” the farm + of her father, Jean Martin, and she cast a glance behind her as she turned + round. She saw Benoist, who looked to her very comical. She called out: + “Good-morning, Benoist.” He replied: “Good-morning, + Martine; good-morning, mait Martin,” and went on his way. + </p> + <p> + When he reached home the soup was on the table. He sat down opposite his + mother beside the farm hand and the hired man, while the maid servant went + to draw some cider. + </p> + <p> + He ate a few spoonfuls, then pushed away his plate. His mother said: + </p> + <p> + “Don't you feel well?” + </p> + <p> + “No. I feel as if I had some pap in my stomach and that takes away + my appetite.” + </p> + <p> + He watched the others eating, as he cut himself a piece of bread from time + to time and carried it lazily to his mouth, masticating it slowly. He + thought of Martine. “She is a fine girl, all the same.” And to + think that he had not noticed it before, and that it came to him, just + like that, all at once, and with such force that he could not eat. + </p> + <p> + He did not touch the stew. His mother said: + </p> + <p> + “Come, Benoist, try and eat a little; it is loin of mutton, it will + do you good. When one has no appetite, they should force themselves to + eat.” + </p> + <p> + He swallowed a few morsels, then, pushing away his plate, said: + </p> + <p> + “No. I can't go that, positively.” + </p> + <p> + When they rose from table he walked round the farm, telling the farm hand + he might go home and that he would drive up the animals as he passed by + them. + </p> + <p> + The country was deserted, as it was the day of rest. Here and there in a + field of clover cows were moving along heavily, with full bellies, chewing + their cud under a blazing sun. Unharnessed plows were standing at the end + of a furrow; and the upturned earth ready for the seed showed broad brown + patches of stubble of wheat and oats that had lately been harvested. + </p> + <p> + A rather dry autumn wind blew across the plain, promising a cool evening + after the sun had set. Benoist sat down on a ditch, placed his hat on his + knees as if he needed to cool off his head, and said aloud in the + stillness of the country: “If you want a fine girl, she is a fine + girl.” + </p> + <p> + He thought of it again at night, in his bed, and in the morning when he + awoke. + </p> + <p> + He was not sad, he was not discontented, he could not have told what ailed + him. It was something that had hold of him, something fastened in his + mind, an idea that would not leave him and that produced a sort of + tickling sensation in his heart. + </p> + <p> + Sometimes a big fly is shut up in a room. You hear it flying about, + buzzing, and the noise haunts you, irritates you. Suddenly it stops; you + forget it; but all at once it begins again, obliging you to look up. You + cannot catch it, nor drive it away, nor kill it, nor make it keep still. + As soon as it settles for a second, it starts off buzzing again. + </p> + <p> + The recollection of Martine disturbed Benoist's mind like an imprisoned + fly. + </p> + <p> + Then he longed to see her again and walked past the Martiniere several + times. He saw her, at last, hanging out some clothes on a line stretched + between two apple trees. + </p> + <p> + It was a warm day. She had on only a short skirt and her chemise, showing + the curves of her figure as she hung up the towels. He remained there, + concealed by the hedge, for more than an hour, even after she had left. He + returned home more obsessed with her image than ever. + </p> + <p> + For a month his mind was full of her, he trembled when her name was + mentioned in his presence. He could not eat, he had night sweats that kept + him from sleeping. + </p> + <p> + On Sunday, at mass, he never took his eyes off her. She noticed it and + smiled at him, flattered at his appreciation. + </p> + <p> + One evening, he suddenly met her in the road. She stopped short when she + saw him coming. Then he walked right up to her, choking with fear and + emotion, but determined to speak to her. He began falteringly: + </p> + <p> + “See here, Martine, this cannot go on like this any longer.” + </p> + <p> + She replied as if she wanted to tease him: + </p> + <p> + “What cannot go on any longer, Benoist?” + </p> + <p> + “My thinking of you as many hours as there are in the day,” he + answered. + </p> + <p> + She put her hands on her hips. + </p> + <p> + “I do not oblige you to do so.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it is you,” he stammered; “I cannot sleep, nor + rest, nor eat, nor anything.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you need to cure you of all that?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + He stood there in dismay, his arms swinging, his eyes staring, his mouth + agape. + </p> + <p> + She hit him a punch in the stomach and ran off. + </p> + <p> + From that day they met each other along the roadside, in by-roads or else + at twilight on the edge of a field, when he was going home with his horses + and she was driving her cows home to the stable. + </p> + <p> + He felt himself carried, cast toward her by a strong impulse of his heart + and body. He would have liked to squeeze her, strangle her, eat her, make + her part of himself. And he trembled with impotence, impatience, rage, to + think she did not belong to him entirely, as if they were one being. + </p> + <p> + People gossiped about it in the countryside. They said they were engaged. + He had, besides, asked her if she would be his wife, and she had answered + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + They, were waiting for an opportunity to talk to their parents about it. + </p> + <p> + But, all at once, she stopped coming to meet him at the usual hour. He did + not even see her as he wandered round the farm. He could only catch a + glimpse of her at mass on Sunday. And one Sunday, after the sermon, the + priest actually published the banns of marriage between Victoire-Adelaide + Martin and Josephin-Isidore Vallin. + </p> + <p> + Benoist felt a sensation in his hands as if the blood had been drained + off. He had a buzzing in the ears; and could hear nothing; and presently + he perceived that his tears were falling on his prayer book. + </p> + <p> + For a month he stayed in his room. Then he went back to his work. + </p> + <p> + But he was not cured, and it was always in his mind. He avoided the roads + that led past her home, so that he might not even see the trees in the + yard, and this obliged him to make a great circuit morning and evening. + </p> + <p> + She was now married to Vallin, the richest farmer in the district. Benoist + and he did not speak now, though they had been comrades from childhood. + </p> + <p> + One evening, as Benoist was passing the town hall, he heard that she was + enceinte. Instead of experiencing a feeling of sorrow, he experienced, on + the contrary, a feeling of relief. It was over, now, all over. They were + more separated by that than by her marriage. He really preferred that it + should be so. + </p> + <p> + Months passed, and more months. He caught sight of her, occasionally, + going to the village with a heavier step than usual. She blushed as she + saw him, lowered her head and quickened her pace. And he turned out of his + way so as not to pass her and meet her glance. + </p> + <p> + He dreaded the thought that he might one morning meet her face to face, + and be obliged to speak to her. What could he say to her now, after all he + had said formerly, when he held her hands as he kissed her hair beside her + cheeks? He often thought of those meetings along the roadside. She had + acted horridly after all her promises. + </p> + <p> + By degrees his grief diminished, leaving only sadness behind. And one day + he took the old road that led past the farm where she now lived. He looked + at the roof from a distance. It was there, in there, that she lived with + another! The apple trees were in bloom, the cocks crowed on the dung hill. + The whole dwelling seemed empty, the farm hands had gone to the fields to + their spring toil. He stopped near the gate and looked into the yard. The + dog was asleep outside his kennel, three calves were walking slowly, one + behind the other, towards the pond. A big turkey was strutting before the + door, parading before the turkey hens like a singer at the opera. + </p> + <p> + Benoist leaned against the gate post and was suddenly seized with a desire + to weep. But suddenly, he heard a cry, a loud cry for help coming from the + house. He was struck with dismay, his hands grasping the wooden bars of + the gate, and listened attentively. Another cry, a prolonged, heartrending + cry, reached his ears, his soul, his flesh. It was she who was crying like + that! He darted inside, crossed the grass patch, pushed open the door, and + saw her lying on the floor, her body drawn up, her face livid, her eyes + haggard, in the throes of childbirth. + </p> + <p> + He stood there, trembling and paler than she was, and stammered: + </p> + <p> + “Here I am, here I am, Martine!” + </p> + <p> + She replied in gasps: + </p> + <p> + “Oh, do not leave me, do not leave me, Benoist!” + </p> + <p> + He looked at her, not knowing what to say, what to do. She began to cry + out again: + </p> + <p> + “Oh, oh, it is killing me. Oh, Benoist!” + </p> + <p> + She writhed frightfully. + </p> + <p> + Benoist was suddenly seized with a frantic longing to help her, to quiet + her, to remove her pain. He leaned over, lifted her up and laid her on her + bed; and while she kept on moaning he began to take off her clothes, her + jacket, her skirt and her petticoat. She bit her fists to keep from crying + out. Then he did as he was accustomed to doing for cows, ewes, and mares: + he assisted in delivering her and found in his hands a large infant who + was moaning. + </p> + <p> + He wiped it off and wrapped it up in a towel that was drying in front of + the fire, and laid it on a bundle of clothes ready for ironing that was on + the table. Then he went back to the mother. + </p> + <p> + He took her up and placed her on the floor again, then he changed the + bedclothes and put her back into bed. She faltered: + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, Benoist, you have a noble heart.” And then she + wept a little as if she felt regretful. + </p> + <p> + He did not love her any longer, not the least bit. It was all over. Why? + How? He could not have said. What had happened had cured him better than + ten years of absence. + </p> + <p> + She asked, exhausted and trembling: + </p> + <p> + “What is it?” + </p> + <p> + He replied calmly: + </p> + <p> + “It is a very fine girl.” + </p> + <p> + Then they were silent again. At the end of a few moments, the mother, in a + weak voice, said: + </p> + <p> + “Show her to me, Benoist.” + </p> + <p> + He took up the little one and was showing it to her as if he were holding + the consecrated wafer, when the door opened, and Isidore Vallin appeared. + </p> + <p> + He did not understand at first, then all at once he guessed. + </p> + <p> + Benoist, in consternation, stammered out: + </p> + <p> + “I was passing, I was just passing by when I heard her crying out, + and I came—there is your child, Vallin!” + </p> + <p> + Then the husband, his eyes full of tears, stepped forward, took the little + mite of humanity that he held out to him, kissed it, unable to speak from + emotion for a few seconds; then placing the child on the bed, he held out + both hands to Benoist, saying: + </p> + <p> + “Your hand upon it, Benoist. From now on we understand each other. + If you are willing, we will be a pair of friends, a pair of friends!” + And Benoist replied: “Indeed I will, certainly, indeed I will.” + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0130"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + ALL OVER + </h2> + <p> + Compte de Lormerin had just finished dressing. He cast a parting glance at + the large mirror which occupied an entire panel in his dressing-room and + smiled. + </p> + <p> + He was really a fine-looking man still, although quite gray. Tall, slight, + elegant, with no sign of a paunch, with a small mustache of doubtful + shade, which might be called fair, he had a walk, a nobility, a “chic,” + in short, that indescribable something which establishes a greater + difference between two men than would millions of money. He murmured: + </p> + <p> + “Lormerin is still alive!” + </p> + <p> + And he went into the drawing-room where his correspondence awaited him. + </p> + <p> + On his table, where everything had its place, the work table of the + gentleman who never works, there were a dozen letters lying beside three + newspapers of different opinions. With a single touch he spread out all + these letters, like a gambler giving the choice of a card; and he scanned + the handwriting, a thing he did each morning before opening the envelopes. + </p> + <p> + It was for him a moment of delightful expectancy, of inquiry and vague + anxiety. What did these sealed mysterious letters bring him? What did they + contain of pleasure, of happiness, or of grief? He surveyed them with a + rapid sweep of the eye, recognizing the writing, selecting them, making + two or three lots, according to what he expected from them. Here, friends; + there, persons to whom he was indifferent; further on, strangers. The last + kind always gave him a little uneasiness. What did they want from him? + What hand had traced those curious characters full of thoughts, promises, + or threats? + </p> + <p> + This day one letter in particular caught his eye. It was simple, + nevertheless, without seeming to reveal anything; but he looked at it + uneasily, with a sort of chill at his heart. He thought: “From whom + can it be? I certainly know this writing, and yet I can't identify it.” + </p> + <p> + He raised it to a level with his face, holding it delicately between two + fingers, striving to read through the envelope, without making up his mind + to open it. + </p> + <p> + Then he smelled it, and snatched up from the table a little magnifying + glass which he used in studying all the niceties of handwriting. He + suddenly felt unnerved. “Whom is it from? This hand is familiar to + me, very familiar. I must have often read its tracings, yes, very often. + But this must have been a long, long time ago. Whom the deuce can it be + from? Pooh! it's only somebody asking for money.” + </p> + <p> + And he tore open the letter. Then he read: + </p> +<div class='pre'> + MY DEAR FRIEND: You have, without doubt, forgotten me, for it is now + twenty-five years since we saw each other. I was young; I am old. + When I bade you farewell, I left Paris in order to follow into the + provinces my husband, my old husband, whom you used to call “my + hospital.” Do you remember him? He died five years ago, and now I + am returning to Paris to get my daughter married, for I have a + daughter, a beautiful girl of eighteen, whom you have never seen. + I informed you of her birth, but you certainly did not pay much + attention to so trifling an event. + + You are still the handsome Lormerin; so I have been told. Well, if + you still recollect little Lise, whom you used to call Lison, come + and dine with her this evening, with the elderly Baronne de Vance + your ever faithful friend, who, with some emotion, although happy, + reaches out to you a devoted hand, which you must clasp, but no + longer kiss, my poor Jaquelet. + LISE DE VANCE. +</div> + <p> + Lormerin's heart began to throb. He remained sunk in his armchair with the + letter on his knees, staring straight before him, overcome by a poignant + emotion that made the tears mount up to his eyes! + </p> + <p> + If he had ever loved a woman in his life it was this one, little Lise, + Lise de Vance, whom he called “Ashflower,” on account of the + strange color of her hair and the pale gray of her eyes. Oh! what a + dainty, pretty, charming creature she was, this frail baronne, the wife of + that gouty, pimply baron, who had abruptly carried her off to the + provinces, shut her up, kept her in seclusion through jealousy, jealousy + of the handsome Lormerin. + </p> + <p> + Yes, he had loved her, and he believed that he too, had been truly loved. + She familiarly gave him, the name of Jaquelet, and would pronounce that + word in a delicious fashion. + </p> + <p> + A thousand forgotten memories came back to him, far, off and sweet and + melancholy now. One evening she had called on him on her way home from a + ball, and they went for a stroll in the Bois de Boulogne, she in evening + dress, he in his dressing-jacket. It was springtime; the weather was + beautiful. The fragrance from her bodice embalmed the warm air-the odor of + her bodice, and perhaps, too, the fragrance of her skin. What a divine + night! When they reached the lake, as the moon's rays fell across the + branches into the water, she began to weep. A little surprised, he asked + her why. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know. The moon and the water have affected me. Every time I + see poetic things I have a tightening at the heart, and I have to cry.” + </p> + <p> + He smiled, affected himself, considering her feminine emotion charming + —the unaffected emotion of a poor little woman, whom every sensation + overwhelms. And he embraced her passionately, stammering: + </p> + <p> + “My little Lise, you are exquisite.” + </p> + <p> + What a charming love affair, short-lived and dainty, it had been and over + all too quickly, cut short in the midst of its ardor by this old brute of + a baron, who had carried off his wife, and never let any one see her + afterward. + </p> + <p> + Lormerin had forgotten, in fact, at the end of two or three months. One + woman drives out another so quickly in Paris, when one is a bachelor! No + matter; he had kept a little altar for her in his heart, for he had loved + her alone! He assured himself now that this was so. + </p> + <p> + He rose, and said aloud: “Certainly, I will go and dine with her + this evening!” + </p> + <p> + And instinctively he turned toward the mirror to inspect himself from head + to foot. He reflected: “She must look very old, older than I look.” + And he felt gratified at the thought of showing himself to her still + handsome, still fresh, of astonishing her, perhaps of filling her with + emotion, and making her regret those bygone days so far, far distant! + </p> + <p> + He turned his attention to the other letters. They were of no importance. + </p> + <p> + The whole day he kept thinking of this ghost of other days. What was she + like now? How strange it was to meet in this way after twenty-five years! + But would he recognize her? + </p> + <p> + He made his toilet with feminine coquetry, put on a white waistcoat, which + suited him better with the coat than a black one, sent for the hairdresser + to give him a finishing touch with the curling iron, for he had preserved + his hair, and started very early in order to show his eagerness to see + her. + </p> + <p> + The first thing he saw on entering a pretty drawing-room newly furnished + was his own portrait, an old faded photograph, dating from the days when + he was a beau, hanging on the wall in an antique silk frame. + </p> + <p> + He sat down and waited. A door opened behind him. He rose up abruptly, + and, turning round, beheld an old woman with white hair who extended both + hands toward him. + </p> + <p> + He seized them, kissed them one after the other several times; then, + lifting up his head, he gazed at the woman he had loved. + </p> + <p> + Yes, it was an old lady, an old lady whom he did not recognize, and who, + while she smiled, seemed ready to weep. + </p> + <p> + He could not abstain from murmuring: + </p> + <p> + “Is it you, Lise?” + </p> + <p> + She replied: + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it is I; it is I, indeed. You would not have known me, would + you? I have had so much sorrow—so much sorrow. Sorrow has consumed + my life. Look at me now—or, rather, don't look at me! But how + handsome you have kept—and young! If I had by chance met you in the + street I would have exclaimed: 'Jaquelet!'. Now, sit down and let us, + first of all, have a chat. And then I will call my daughter, my grown-up + daughter. You'll see how she resembles me—or, rather, how I + resembled her—no, it is not quite that; she is just like the 'me' of + former days—you shall see! But I wanted to be alone with you first. + I feared that there would be some emotion on my side, at the first moment. + Now it is all over; it is past. Pray be seated, my friend.” + </p> + <p> + He sat down beside her, holding her hand; but he did not know what to say; + he did not know this woman—it seemed to him that he had never seen + her before. Why had he come to this house? What could he talk about? Of + the long ago? What was there in common between him and her? He could no + longer recall anything in presence of this grandmotherly face. He could no + longer recall all the nice, tender things, so sweet, so bitter, that had + come to his mind that morning when he thought of the other, of little + Lise, of the dainty Ashflower. What, then, had become of her, the former + one, the one he had loved? That woman of far-off dreams, the blonde with + gray eyes, the young girl who used to call him “Jaquelet” so + prettily? + </p> + <p> + They remained side by side, motionless, both constrained, troubled, + profoundly ill at ease. + </p> + <p> + As they talked only commonplaces, awkwardly and spasmodically and slowly, + she rose and pressed the button of the bell. + </p> + <p> + “I am going to call Renee,” she said. + </p> + <p> + There was a tap at the door, then the rustle of a dress; then a young + voice exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “Here I am, mamma!” + </p> + <p> + Lormerin remained bewildered as at the sight of an apparition. + </p> + <p> + He stammered: + </p> + <p> + “Good-day, mademoiselle” + </p> + <p> + Then, turning toward the mother: + </p> + <p> + “Oh! it is you!” + </p> + <p> + In fact, it was she, she whom he had known in bygone days, the Lise who + had vanished and come back! In her he found the woman he had won + twenty-five years before. This one was even younger, fresher, more + childlike. + </p> + <p> + He felt a wild desire to open his arms, to clasp her to his heart again, + murmuring in her ear: + </p> + <p> + “Good-morning, Lison!” + </p> + <p> + A man-servant announced: + </p> + <p> + “Dinner is ready, madame.” + </p> + <p> + And they proceeded toward the dining-room. + </p> + <p> + What passed at this dinner? What did they say to him, and what could he + say in reply? He found himself plunged in one of those strange dreams + which border on insanity. He gazed at the two women with a fixed idea in + his mind, a morbid, self-contradictory idea: + </p> + <p> + “Which is the real one?” + </p> + <p> + The mother smiled again repeating over and over: + </p> + <p> + “Do you remember?” And it was in the bright eyes of the young + girl that he found again his memories of the past. Twenty times he opened + his mouth to say to her: “Do you remember, Lison?” forgetting + this white-haired lady who was looking at him tenderly. + </p> + <p> + And yet, there were moments when, he no longer felt sure, when he lost his + head. He could see that the woman of to-day was not exactly the woman of + long ago. The other one, the former one, had in her voice, in her glances, + in her entire being, something which he did not find again. And he made + prodigious efforts of mind to recall his lady love, to seize again what + had escaped from her, what this resuscitated one did not possess. + </p> + <p> + The baronne said: + </p> + <p> + “You have lost your old vivacity, my poor friend.” + </p> + <p> + He murmured: + </p> + <p> + “There are many other things that I have lost!” + </p> + <p> + But in his heart, touched with emotion, he felt his old love springing to + life once more, like an awakened wild beast ready to bite him. + </p> + <p> + The young girl went on chattering, and every now and then some familiar + intonation, some expression of her mother's, a certain style of speaking + and thinking, that resemblance of mind and manner which people acquire by + living together, shook Lormerin from head to foot. All these things + penetrated him, making the reopened wound of his passion bleed anew. + </p> + <p> + He got away early, and took a turn along the boulevard. But the image of + this young girl pursued him, haunted him, quickened his heart, inflamed + his blood. Apart from the two women, he now saw only one, a young one, the + old one come back out of the past, and he loved her as he had loved her in + bygone years. He loved her with greater ardor, after an interval of + twenty-five years. + </p> + <p> + He went home to reflect on this strange and terrible thing, and to think + what he should do. + </p> + <p> + But, as he was passing, with a wax candle in his hand, before the glass, + the large glass in which he had contemplated himself and admired himself + before he started, he saw reflected there an elderly, gray-haired man; and + suddenly he recollected what he had been in olden days, in the days of + little Lise. He saw himself charming and handsome, as he had been when he + was loved! Then, drawing the light nearer, he looked at himself more + closely, as one inspects a strange thing with a magnifying glass, tracing + the wrinkles, discovering those frightful ravages, which he had not + perceived till now. + </p> + <p> + And he sat down, crushed at the sight of himself, at the sight of his + lamentable image, murmuring: + </p> + <p> + “All over, Lormerin!” + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0131"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + THE PARROT + </h2> + <div class='ph3'> + I + </div> + <p> + Everybody in Fecamp knew Mother Patin's story. She had certainly been + unfortunate with her husband, for in his lifetime he used to beat her, + just as wheat is threshed in the barn. + </p> + <p> + He was master of a fishing bark and had married her, formerly, because she + was pretty, although poor. + </p> + <p> + Patin was a good sailor, but brutal. He used to frequent Father Auban's + inn, where he would usually drink four or five glasses of brandy, on lucky + days eight or ten glasses and even more, according to his mood. The brandy + was served to the customers by Father Auban's daughter, a pleasing + brunette, who attracted people to the house only by her pretty face, for + nothing had ever been gossiped about her. + </p> + <p> + Patin, when he entered the inn, would be satisfied to look at her and to + compliment her politely and respectfully. After he had had his first glass + of brandy he would already find her much nicer; at the second he would + wink; at the third he would say. “If you were only willing, + Mam'zelle Desiree——” without ever finishing his + sentence; at the fourth he would try to hold her back by her skirt in + order to kiss her; and when he went as high as ten it was Father Auban who + brought him the remaining drinks. + </p> + <p> + The old innkeeper, who knew all the tricks of the trade, made Desiree walk + about between the tables in order to increase the consumption of drinks; + and Desiree, who was a worthy daughter of Father Auban, flitted around + among the benches and joked with them, her lips smiling and her eyes + sparkling. + </p> + <p> + Patin got so well accustomed to Desiree's face that he thought of it even + while at sea, when throwing out his nets, in storms or in calms, on + moonlit or dark evenings. He thought of her while holding the tiller in + the stern of his boat, while his four companions were slumbering with + their heads on their arms. He always saw her, smiling, pouring out the + yellow brandy with a peculiar shoulder movement and then exclaiming as she + turned away: “There, now; are you satisfied?” + </p> + <p> + He saw her so much in his mind's eye that he was overcome by an + irresistible desire to marry her, and, not being able to hold out any + longer, he asked for her hand. + </p> + <p> + He was rich, owned his own vessel, his nets and a little house at the foot + of the hill on the Retenue, whereas Father Auban had nothing. The marriage + was therefore eagerly agreed upon and the wedding took place as soon as + possible, as both parties were desirous for the affair to be concluded as + early as convenient. + </p> + <p> + Three days after the wedding Patin could no longer understand how he had + ever imagined Desiree to be different from other women. What a fool he had + been to encumber himself with a penniless creature, who had undoubtedly + inveigled him with some drug which she had put in his brandy! + </p> + <p> + He would curse all day lung, break his pipe with his teeth and maul his + crew. After he had sworn by every known term at everything that came his + way he would rid himself of his remaining anger on the fish and lobsters, + which he pulled from the nets and threw into the baskets amid oaths and + foul language. When he returned home he would find his wife, Father + Auban's daughter, within reach of his mouth and hand, and it was not long + before he treated her like the lowest creature in the world. As she + listened calmly, accustomed to paternal violence, he grew exasperated at + her quiet, and one evening he beat her. Then life at his home became + unbearable. + </p> + <p> + For ten years the principal topic of conversation on the Retenue was about + the beatings that Patin gave his wife and his manner of cursing at her for + the least thing. He could, indeed, curse with a richness of vocabulary in + a roundness of tone unequalled by any other man in Fecamp. As soon as his + ship was sighted at the entrance of the harbor, returning from the fishing + expedition, every one awaited the first volley he would hurl from the + bridge as soon as he perceived his wife's white cap. + </p> + <p> + Standing at the stern he would steer, his eye fixed on the bows and on the + sail, and, notwithstanding the difficulty of the narrow passage and the + height of the turbulent waves, he would search among the watching women + and try to recognize his wife, Father Auban's daughter, the wretch! + </p> + <p> + Then, as soon as he saw her, notwithstanding the noise of the wind and + waves, he would let loose upon her with such power and volubility that + every one would laugh, although they pitied her greatly. When he arrived + at the dock he would relieve his mind, while unloading the fish, in such + an expressive manner that he attracted around him all the loafers of the + neighborhood. The words left his mouth sometimes like shots from a cannon, + short and terrible, sometimes like peals of thunder, which roll and rumble + for five minutes, such a hurricane of oaths that he seemed to have in his + lungs one of the storms of the Eternal Father. + </p> + <p> + When he left his ship and found himself face to face with her, surrounded + by all the gossips of the neighborhood, he would bring up a new cargo of + insults and bring her back to their dwelling, she in front, he behind, she + weeping, he yelling at her. + </p> + <p> + At last, when alone with her behind closed doors, he would thrash her on + the slightest pretext. The least thing was sufficient to make him raise + his hand, and when he had once begun he did not stop, but he would throw + into her face the true motive for his anger. At each blow he would roar: + “There, you beggar! There, you wretch! There, you pauper! What a + bright thing I did when I rinsed my mouth with your rascal of a father's + apology for brandy.” + </p> + <p> + The poor woman lived in continual fear, in a ceaseless trembling of body + and soul, in everlasting expectation of outrageous thrashings. + </p> + <p> + This lasted ten years. She was so timorous that she would grow pale + whenever she spoke to any one, and she thought of nothing but the blows + with which she was threatened; and she became thinner, more yellow and + drier than a smoked fish. + </p> + <p> + II + </p> + <p> + One night, when her husband was at sea, she was suddenly awakened by the + wild roaring of the wind! + </p> + <p> + She sat up in her bed, trembling, but, as she hear nothing more, she lay + down again; almost immediately there was a roar in the chimney which shook + the entire house; it seemed to cross the heavens like a pack of furious + animals snorting and roaring. + </p> + <p> + Then she arose and rushed to the harbor. Other women were arriving from + all sides, carrying lanterns. The men also were gathering, and all were + watching the foaming crests of the breaking wave. + </p> + <p> + The storm lasted fifteen hours. Eleven sailors never returned; Patin was + among them. + </p> + <p> + In the neighborhood of Dieppe the wreck of his bark, the Jeune-Amelie, was + found. The bodies of his sailors were found near Saint-Valery, but his + body was never recovered. As his vessel seemed to have been cut in two, + his wife expected and feared his return for a long time, for if there had + been a collision he alone might have been picked up and carried afar off. + </p> + <p> + Little by little she grew accustomed to the thought that she was rid of + him, although she would start every time that a neighbor, a beggar or a + peddler would enter suddenly. + </p> + <p> + One afternoon, about four years after the disappearance of her husband, + while she was walking along the Rue aux Juifs, she stopped before the + house of an old sea captain who had recently died and whose furniture was + for sale. Just at that moment a parrot was at auction. He had green + feathers and a blue head and was watching everybody with a displeased + look. “Three francs!” cried the auctioneer. “A bird that + can talk like a lawyer, three francs!” + </p> + <p> + A friend of the Patin woman nudged her and said: + </p> + <p> + “You ought to buy that, you who are rich. It would be good company + for you. That bird is worth more than thirty francs. Anyhow, you can + always sell it for twenty or twenty-five!” + </p> + <p> + Patin's widow added fifty centimes, and the bird was given her in a little + cage, which she carried away. She took it home, and, as she was opening + the wire door in order to give it something to drink, he bit her finger + and drew blood. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, how naughty he is!” she said. + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless she gave it some hemp-seed and corn and watched it pruning + its feathers as it glanced warily at its new home and its new mistress. On + the following morning, just as day was breaking, the Patin woman + distinctly heard a loud, deep, roaring voice calling: “Are you going + to get up, carrion?” + </p> + <p> + Her fear was so great that she hid her head under the sheets, for when + Patin was with her as soon as he would open his eyes he would shout those + well-known words into her ears. + </p> + <p> + Trembling, rolled into a ball, her back prepared for the thrashing which + she already expected, her face buried in the pillows, she murmured: + “Good Lord! he is here! Good Lord! he is here! Good Lord! he has + come back!” + </p> + <p> + Minutes passed; no noise disturbed the quiet room. Then, trembling, she + stuck her head out of the bed, sure that he was there, watching, ready to + beat her. Except for a ray of sun shining through the window, she saw + nothing, and she said to her self: “He must be hidden.” + </p> + <p> + She waited a long time and then, gaining courage, she said to herself: + “I must have dreamed it, seeing there is nobody here.” + </p> + <p> + A little reassured, she closed her eyes, when from quite near a furious + voice, the thunderous voice of the drowned man, could be heard crying: + “Say! when in the name of all that's holy are you going to get up, + you b——?” + </p> + <p> + She jumped out of bed, moved by obedience, by the passive obedience of a + woman accustomed to blows and who still remembers and always will remember + that voice! She said: “Here I am, Patin; what do you want?” + </p> + <p> + Put Patin did not answer. Then, at a complete loss, she looked around her, + then in the chimney and under the bed and finally sank into a chair, wild + with anxiety, convinced that Patin's soul alone was there, near her, and + that he had returned in order to torture her. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly she remembered the loft, in order to reach which one had to take + a ladder. Surely he must have hidden there in order to surprise her. He + must have been held by savages on some distant shore, unable to escape + until now, and he had returned, worse that ever. There was no doubting the + quality of that voice. She raised her head and asked: “Are you up + there, Patin?” + </p> + <p> + Patin did not answer. Then, with a terrible fear which made her heart + tremble, she climbed the ladder, opened the skylight, looked, saw nothing, + entered, looked about and found nothing. Sitting on some straw, she began + to cry, but while she was weeping, overcome by a poignant and supernatural + terror, she heard Patin talking in the room below. + </p> + <p> + He seemed less angry and he was saying: “Nasty weather! Fierce wind! + Nasty weather! I haven't eaten, damn it!” + </p> + <p> + She cried through the ceiling: “Here I am, Patin; I am getting your + meal ready. Don't get angry.” + </p> + <p> + She ran down again. There was no one in the room. She felt herself growing + weak, as if death were touching her, and she tried to run and get help + from the neighbors, when a voice near her cried out: “I haven't had + my breakfast, by G—!” + </p> + <p> + And the parrot in his cage watched her with his round, knowing, wicked + eye. She, too, looked at him wildly, murmuring: “Ah! so it's you!” + </p> + <p> + He shook his head and continued: “Just you wait! I'll teach you how + to loaf.” + </p> + <p> + What happened within her? She felt, she understood that it was he, the + dead man, who had come back, who had disguised himself in the feathers of + this bird in order to continue to torment her; that he would curse, as + formerly, all day long, and bite her, and swear at her, in order to + attract the neighbors and make them laugh. Then she rushed for the cage + and seized the bird, which scratched and tore her flesh with its claws and + beak. But she held it with all her strength between her hands. She threw + it on the ground and rolled over it with the frenzy of one possessed. She + crushed it and finally made of it nothing but a little green, flabby lump + which no longer moved or spoke. Then she wrapped it in a cloth, as in a + shroud, and she went out in her nightgown, barefoot; she crossed the dock, + against which the choppy waves of the sea were beating, and she shook the + cloth and let drop this little, dead thing, which looked like so much + grass. Then she returned, threw herself on her knees before the empty + cage, and, overcome by what she had done, kneeled and prayed for + forgiveness, as if she had committed some heinous crime. + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0132"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + THE PIECE OF STRING + </h2> + <p> + It was market-day, and from all the country round Goderville the peasants + and their wives were coming toward the town. The men walked slowly, + throwing the whole body forward at every step of their long, crooked legs. + They were deformed from pushing the plough which makes the left-shoulder + higher, and bends their figures side-ways; from reaping the grain, when + they have to spread their legs so as to keep on their feet. Their starched + blue blouses, glossy as though varnished, ornamented at collar and cuffs + with a little embroidered design and blown out around their bony bodies, + looked very much like balloons about to soar, whence issued two arms and + two feet. + </p> + <p> + Some of these fellows dragged a cow or a calf at the end of a rope. And + just behind the animal followed their wives beating it over the back with + a leaf-covered branch to hasten its pace, and carrying large baskets out + of which protruded the heads of chickens or ducks. These women walked more + quickly and energetically than the men, with their erect, dried-up + figures, adorned with scanty little shawls pinned over their flat bosoms, + and their heads wrapped round with a white cloth, enclosing the hair and + surmounted by a cap. + </p> + <p> + Now a char-a-banc passed by, jogging along behind a nag and shaking up + strangely the two men on the seat, and the woman at the bottom of the cart + who held fast to its sides to lessen the hard jolting. + </p> + <p> + In the market-place at Goderville was a great crowd, a mingled multitude + of men and beasts. The horns of cattle, the high, long-napped hats of + wealthy peasants, the head-dresses of the women came to the surface of + that sea. And the sharp, shrill, barking voices made a continuous, wild + din, while above it occasionally rose a huge burst of laughter from the + sturdy lungs of a merry peasant or a prolonged bellow from a cow tied fast + to the wall of a house. + </p> + <p> + It all smelled of the stable, of milk, of hay and of perspiration, giving + off that half-human, half-animal odor which is peculiar to country folks. + </p> + <p> + Maitre Hauchecorne, of Breaute, had just arrived at Goderville and was + making his way toward the square when he perceived on the ground a little + piece of string. Maitre Hauchecorne, economical as are all true Normans, + reflected that everything was worth picking up which could be of any use, + and he stooped down, but painfully, because he suffered from rheumatism. + He took the bit of thin string from the ground and was carefully preparing + to roll it up when he saw Maitre Malandain, the harness maker, on his + doorstep staring at him. They had once had a quarrel about a halter, and + they had borne each other malice ever since. Maitre Hauchecorne was + overcome with a sort of shame at being seen by his enemy picking up a bit + of string in the road. He quickly hid it beneath his blouse and then + slipped it into his breeches, pocket, then pretended to be still looking + for something on the ground which he did not discover and finally went off + toward the market-place, his head bent forward and his body almost doubled + in two by rheumatic pains. + </p> + <p> + He was at once lost in the crowd, which kept moving about slowly and + noisily as it chaffered and bargained. The peasants examined the cows, + went off, came back, always in doubt for fear of being cheated, never + quite daring to decide, looking the seller square in the eye in the effort + to discover the tricks of the man and the defect in the beast. + </p> + <p> + The women, having placed their great baskets at their feet, had taken out + the poultry, which lay upon the ground, their legs tied together, with + terrified eyes and scarlet combs. + </p> + <p> + They listened to propositions, maintaining their prices in a decided + manner with an impassive face or perhaps deciding to accept the smaller + price offered, suddenly calling out to the customer who was starting to go + away: + </p> + <p> + “All right, I'll let you have them, Mait' Anthime.” + </p> + <p> + Then, little by little, the square became empty, and when the Angelus + struck midday those who lived at a distance poured into the inns. + </p> + <p> + At Jourdain's the great room was filled with eaters, just as the vast + court was filled with vehicles of every sort—wagons, gigs, + chars-a-bancs, tilburies, innumerable vehicles which have no name, yellow + with mud, misshapen, pieced together, raising their shafts to heaven like + two arms, or it may be with their nose on the ground and their rear in the + air. + </p> + <p> + Just opposite to where the diners were at table the huge fireplace, with + its bright flame, gave out a burning heat on the backs of those who sat at + the right. Three spits were turning, loaded with chickens, with pigeons + and with joints of mutton, and a delectable odor of roast meat and of + gravy flowing over crisp brown skin arose from the hearth, kindled + merriment, caused mouths to water. + </p> + <p> + All the aristocracy of the plough were eating there at Mait' Jourdain's, + the innkeeper's, a dealer in horses also and a sharp fellow who had made a + great deal of money in his day. + </p> + <p> + The dishes were passed round, were emptied, as were the jugs of yellow + cider. Every one told of his affairs, of his purchases and his sales. They + exchanged news about the crops. The weather was good for greens, but too + wet for grain. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly the drum began to beat in the courtyard before the house. Every + one, except some of the most indifferent, was on their feet at once and + ran to the door, to the windows, their mouths full and napkins in their + hand. + </p> + <p> + When the public crier had finished his tattoo he called forth in a jerky + voice, pausing in the wrong places: + </p> + <p> + “Be it known to the inhabitants of Goderville and in general to all + persons present at the market that there has been lost this morning on the + Beuzeville road, between nine and ten o'clock, a black leather pocketbook + containing five hundred francs and business papers. You are requested to + return it to the mayor's office at once or to Maitre Fortune Houlbreque, + of Manneville. There will be twenty francs reward.” + </p> + <p> + Then the man went away. They heard once more at a distance the dull + beating of the drum and the faint voice of the crier. Then they all began + to talk of this incident, reckoning up the chances which Maitre Houlbreque + had of finding or of not finding his pocketbook again. + </p> + <p> + The meal went on. They were finishing their coffee when the corporal of + gendarmes appeared on the threshold. + </p> + <p> + He asked: + </p> + <p> + “Is Maitre Hauchecorne, of Breaute, here?” + </p> + <p> + Maitre Hauchecorne, seated at the other end of the table answered: + </p> + <p> + “Here I am, here I am.” + </p> + <p> + And he followed the corporal. + </p> + <p> + The mayor was waiting for him, seated in an armchair. He was the notary of + the place, a tall, grave man of pompous speech. + </p> + <p> + “Maitre Hauchecorne,” said he, “this morning on the + Beuzeville road, you were seen to pick up the pocketbook lost by Maitre + Houlbreque, of Manneville.” + </p> + <p> + The countryman looked at the mayor in amazement frightened already at this + suspicion which rested on him, he knew not why. + </p> + <p> + “I—I picked up that pocketbook?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, YOU.” + </p> + <p> + “I swear I don't even know anything about it.” + </p> + <p> + “You were seen.” + </p> + <p> + “I was seen—I? Who saw me?” + </p> + <p> + “M. Malandain, the harness-maker.” + </p> + <p> + Then the old man remembered, understood, and, reddening with anger, said: + </p> + <p> + “Ah! he saw me, did he, the rascal? He saw me picking up this string + here, M'sieu le Maire.” + </p> + <p> + And fumbling at the bottom of his pocket, he pulled out of it the little + end of string. + </p> + <p> + But the mayor incredulously shook his head: + </p> + <p> + “You will not make me believe, Maitre Hauchecorne, that M. + Malandain, who is a man whose word can be relied on, has mistaken this + string for a pocketbook.” + </p> + <p> + The peasant, furious, raised his hand and spat on the ground beside him as + if to attest his good faith, repeating: + </p> + <p> + “For all that, it is God's truth, M'sieu le Maire. There! On my + soul's salvation, I repeat it.” + </p> + <p> + The mayor continued: + </p> + <p> + “After you picked up the object in question, you even looked about + for some time in the mud to see if a piece of money had not dropped out of + it.” + </p> + <p> + The good man was choking with indignation and fear. + </p> + <p> + “How can they tell—how can they tell such lies as that to + slander an honest man! How can they?” + </p> + <p> + His protestations were in vain; he was not believed. + </p> + <p> + He was confronted with M. Malandain, who repeated and sustained his + testimony. They railed at one another for an hour. At his own request + Maitre Hauchecorne was searched. Nothing was found on him. + </p> + <p> + At last the mayor, much perplexed, sent him away, warning him that he + would inform the public prosecutor and ask for orders. + </p> + <p> + The news had spread. When he left the mayor's office the old man was + surrounded, interrogated with a curiosity which was serious or mocking, as + the case might be, but into which no indignation entered. And he began to + tell the story of the string. They did not believe him. They laughed. + </p> + <p> + He passed on, buttonholed by every one, himself buttonholing his + acquaintances, beginning over and over again his tale and his + protestations, showing his pockets turned inside out to prove that he had + nothing in them. + </p> + <p> + They said to him: + </p> + <p> + “You old rogue!” + </p> + <p> + He grew more and more angry, feverish, in despair at not being believed, + and kept on telling his story. + </p> + <p> + The night came. It was time to go home. He left with three of his + neighbors, to whom he pointed out the place where he had picked up the + string, and all the way he talked of his adventure. + </p> + <p> + That evening he made the round of the village of Breaute for the purpose + of telling every one. He met only unbelievers. + </p> + <p> + He brooded over it all night long. + </p> + <p> + The next day, about one in the afternoon, Marius Paumelle, a farm hand of + Maitre Breton, the market gardener at Ymauville, returned the pocketbook + and its contents to Maitre Holbreque, of Manneville. + </p> + <p> + This man said, indeed, that he had found it on the road, but not knowing + how to read, he had carried it home and given it to his master. + </p> + <p> + The news spread to the environs. Maitre Hauchecorne was informed. He + started off at once and began to relate his story with the denoument. He + was triumphant. + </p> + <p> + “What grieved me,” said he, “was not the thing itself, + do you understand, but it was being accused of lying. Nothing does you so + much harm as being in disgrace for lying.” + </p> + <p> + All day he talked of his adventure. He told it on the roads to the people + who passed, at the cabaret to the people who drank and next Sunday when + they came out of church. He even stopped strangers to tell them about it. + He was easy now, and yet something worried him without his knowing exactly + what it was. People had a joking manner while they listened. They did not + seem convinced. He seemed to feel their remarks behind his back. + </p> + <p> + On Tuesday of the following week he went to market at Goderville, prompted + solely by the need of telling his story. + </p> + <p> + Malandain, standing on his doorstep, began to laugh as he saw him pass. + Why? + </p> + <p> + He accosted a farmer of Criquetot, who did not let him finish, and giving + him a punch in the pit of the stomach cried in his face: “Oh, you + great rogue!” Then he turned his heel upon him. + </p> + <p> + Maitre Hauchecorne remained speechless and grew more and more uneasy. Why + had they called him “great rogue”? + </p> + <p> + When seated at table in Jourdain's tavern he began again to explain the + whole affair. + </p> + <p> + A horse dealer of Montivilliers shouted at him: + </p> + <p> + “Get out, get out, you old scamp! I know all about your old string.” + </p> + <p> + Hauchecorne stammered: + </p> + <p> + “But since they found it again, the pocketbook!” + </p> + <p> + But the other continued: + </p> + <p> + “Hold your tongue, daddy; there's one who finds it and there's + another who returns it. And no one the wiser.” + </p> + <p> + The farmer was speechless. He understood at last. They accused him of + having had the pocketbook brought back by an accomplice, by a confederate. + </p> + <p> + He tried to protest. The whole table began to laugh. + </p> + <p> + He could not finish his dinner, and went away amid a chorus of jeers. + </p> + <p> + He went home indignant, choking with rage, with confusion, the more cast + down since with his Norman craftiness he was, perhaps, capable of having + done what they accused him of and even of boasting of it as a good trick. + He was dimly conscious that it was impossible to prove his innocence, his + craftiness being so well known. He felt himself struck to the heart by the + injustice of the suspicion. + </p> + <p> + He began anew to tell his tale, lengthening his recital every day, each + day adding new proofs, more energetic declarations and more sacred oaths, + which he thought of, which he prepared in his hours of solitude, for his + mind was entirely occupied with the story of the string. The more he + denied it, the more artful his arguments, the less he was believed. + </p> + <p> + “Those are liars proofs,” they said behind his back. + </p> + <p> + He felt this. It preyed upon him and he exhausted himself in useless + efforts. + </p> + <p> + He was visibly wasting away. + </p> + <p> + Jokers would make him tell the story of “the piece of string” + to amuse them, just as you make a soldier who has been on a campaign tell + his story of the battle. His mind kept growing weaker and about the end of + December he took to his bed. + </p> + <p> + He passed away early in January, and, in the ravings of death agony, he + protested his innocence, repeating: + </p> + <p> + “A little bit of string—a little bit of string. See, here it + is, M'sieu le Maire.” + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0133"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + ORIGINAL SHORT STORIES, Vol. 9. + </h2> +<div class='pre'> + GUY DE MAUPASSANT + ORIGINAL SHORT STORIES + Translated by + ALBERT M. C. McMASTER, B.A. + A. E. HENDERSON, B.A. + MME. QUESADA and Others +</div> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0134"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + VOLUME IX. + </h2> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0135"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + TOINE + </h2> + <p> + He was known for thirty miles round was father Toine—fat Toine, + Toine-my-extra, Antoine Macheble, nicknamed Burnt-Brandy—the + innkeeper of Tournevent. + </p> + <p> + It was he who had made famous this hamlet buried in a niche in the valley + that led down to the sea, a poor little peasants' hamlet consisting of ten + Norman cottages surrounded by ditches and trees. + </p> + <p> + The houses were hidden behind a curve which had given the place the name + of Tournevent. It seemed to have sought shelter in this ravine overgrown + with grass and rushes, from the keen, salt sea wind—the ocean wind + that devours and burns like fire, that drys up and withers like the + sharpest frost of winter, just as birds seek shelter in the furrows of the + fields in time of storm. + </p> + <p> + But the whole hamlet seemed to be the property of Antoine Macheble, + nicknamed Burnt-Brandy, who was called also Toine, or + Toine-My-Extra-Special, the latter in consequence of a phrase current in + his mouth: + </p> + <p> + “My Extra-Special is the best in France:” + </p> + <p> + His “Extra-Special” was, of course, his cognac. + </p> + <p> + For the last twenty years he had served the whole countryside with his + Extra-Special and his “Burnt-Brandy,” for whenever he was + asked: “What shall I drink, Toine?” he invariably answered: + “A burnt-brandy, my son-in-law; that warms the inside and clears the + head—there's nothing better for your body.” + </p> + <p> + He called everyone his son-in-law, though he had no daughter, either + married or to be married. + </p> + <p> + Well known indeed was Toine Burnt-Brandy, the stoutest man in all + Normandy. His little house seemed ridiculously small, far too small and + too low to hold him; and when people saw him standing at his door, as he + did all day long, they asked one another how he could possibly get through + the door. But he went in whenever a customer appeared, for it was only + right that Toine should be invited to take his thimbleful of whatever was + drunk in his wine shop. + </p> + <p> + His inn bore the sign: “The Friends' Meeting-Place”—and + old Toine was, indeed, the friend of all. His customers came from Fecamp + and Montvilliers, just for the fun of seeing him and hearing him talk; for + fat Toine would have made a tombstone laugh. He had a way of chaffing + people without offending them, or of winking to express what he didn't + say, of slapping his thighs when he was merry in such a way as to make you + hold your sides, laughing. And then, merely to see him drink was a + curiosity. He drank everything that was offered him, his roguish eyes + twinkling, both with the enjoyment of drinking and at the thought of the + money he was taking in. His was a double pleasure: first, that of + drinking; and second, that of piling up the cash. + </p> + <p> + You should have heard him quarrelling with his wife! It was worth paying + for to see them together. They had wrangled all the thirty years they had + been married; but Toine was good-humored, while his better-half grew + angry. She was a tall peasant woman, who walked with long steps like a + stork, and had a head resembling that of an angry screech-owl. She spent + her time rearing chickens in a little poultry-yard behind the inn, and she + was noted for her success in fattening them for the table. + </p> + <p> + Whenever the gentry of Fecamp gave a dinner they always had at least one + of Madame Toine's chickens to be in the fashion. + </p> + <p> + But she was born ill-tempered, and she went through life in a mood of + perpetual discontent. Annoyed at everyone, she seemed to be particularly + annoyed at her husband. She disliked his gaiety, his reputation, his rude + health, his embonpoint. She treated him as a good-for-nothing creature + because he earned his money without working, and as a glutton because he + ate and drank as much as ten ordinary men; and not a day went by without + her declaring spitefully: + </p> + <p> + “You'd be better in the stye along with the pigs! You're so fat it + makes me sick to look at you!” + </p> + <p> + And she would shout in his face: + </p> + <p> + “Wait! Wait a bit! We'll see! You'll burst one of these fine days + like a sack of corn-you old bloat, you!” + </p> + <p> + Toine would laugh heartily, patting his corpulent person, and replying: + </p> + <p> + “Well, well, old hen, why don't you fatten up your chickens like + that? just try!” + </p> + <p> + And, rolling his sleeves back from his enormous arm, he said: + </p> + <p> + “That would make a fine wing now, wouldn't it?” + </p> + <p> + And the customers, doubled up with laughter, would thump the table with + their fists and stamp their feet on the floor. + </p> + <p> + The old woman, mad with rage, would repeat: + </p> + <p> + “Wait a bit! Wait a bit! You'll see what'll happen. He'll burst like + a sack of grain!” + </p> + <p> + And off she would go, amid the jeers and laughter of the drinkers. + </p> + <p> + Toine was, in fact, an astonishing sight, he was so fat, so heavy, so red. + He was one of those enormous beings with whom Death seems to be amusing + himself—playing perfidious tricks and pranks, investing with an + irresistibly comic air his slow work of destruction. Instead of + manifesting his approach, as with others, in white hairs, in emaciation, + in wrinkles, in the gradual collapse which makes the onlookers say: + “Gad! how he has changed!” he took a malicious pleasure in + fattening Toine, in making him monstrous and absurd, in tingeing his face + with a deep crimson, in giving him the appearance of superhuman health, + and the changes he inflicts on all were in the case of Toine laughable, + comic, amusing, instead of being painful and distressing to witness. + </p> + <p> + “Wait a bit! Wait a bit!” said his wife. “You'll see.” + </p> + <p> + At last Toine had an apoplectic fit, and was paralyzed in consequence. The + giant was put to bed in the little room behind the partition of the + drinking-room that he might hear what was said and talk to his friends, + for his head was quite clear although his enormous body was helplessly + inert. It was hoped at first that his immense legs would regain some + degree of power; but this hope soon disappeared, and Toine spent his days + and nights in the bed, which was only made up once a week, with the help + of four neighbors who lifted the innkeeper, each holding a limb, while his + mattress was turned. + </p> + <p> + He kept his spirits, nevertheless; but his gaiety was of a different kind—more + timid, more humble; and he lived in a constant, childlike fear of his + wife, who grumbled from morning till night: + </p> + <p> + “Look at him there—the great glutton! the good-for-nothing + creature, the old boozer! Serve him right, serve him right!” + </p> + <p> + He no longer answered her. He contented himself with winking behind the + old woman's back, and turning over on his other side—the only + movement of which he was now capable. He called this exercise a “tack + to the north” or a “tack to the south.” + </p> + <p> + His great distraction nowadays was to listen to the conversations in the + bar, and to shout through the wall when he recognized a friend's voice: + </p> + <p> + “Hallo, my son-in-law! Is that you, Celestin?” + </p> + <p> + And Celestin Maloisel answered: + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it's me, Toine. Are you getting about again yet, old fellow?” + </p> + <p> + “Not exactly getting about,” answered Toine. “But I + haven't grown thin; my carcass is still good.” + </p> + <p> + Soon he got into the way of asking his intimates into his room to keep him + company, although it grieved him to see that they had to drink without + him. It pained him to the quick that his customers should be drinking + without him. + </p> + <p> + “That's what hurts worst of all,” he would say: “that I + cannot drink my Extra-Special any more. I can put up with everything else, + but going without drink is the very deuce.” + </p> + <p> + Then his wife's screech-owl face would appear at the window, and she would + break in with the words: + </p> + <p> + “Look at him! Look at him now, the good-for-nothing wretch! I've got + to feed him and wash him just as if he were a pig!” + </p> + <p> + And when the old woman had gone, a cock with red feathers would sometimes + fly up to the window sill and looking into the room with his round + inquisitive eye, would begin to crow loudly. Occasionally, too, a few hens + would flutter as far as the foot of the bed, seeking crumbs on the floor. + Toine's friends soon deserted the drinking room to come and chat every + afternoon beside the invalid's bed. Helpless though he was, the jovial + Toine still provided them with amusement. He would have made the devil + himself laugh. Three men were regular in their attendance at the bedside: + Celestin Maloisel, a tall, thin fellow, somewhat gnarled, like the trunk + of an apple-tree; Prosper Horslaville, a withered little man with a ferret + nose, cunning as a fox; and Cesaire Paumelle, who never spoke, but who + enjoyed Toine's society all the same. + </p> + <p> + They brought a plank from the yard, propped it upon the edge of the bed, + and played dominoes from two till six. + </p> + <p> + But Toine's wife soon became insufferable. She could not endure that her + fat, lazy husband should amuse himself at games while lying in his bed; + and whenever she caught him beginning a game she pounced furiously on the + dominoes, overturned the plank, and carried all away into the bar, + declaring that it was quite enough to have to feed that fat, lazy pig + without seeing him amusing himself, as if to annoy poor people who had to + work hard all day long. + </p> + <p> + Celestin Maloisel and Cesaire Paumelle bent their heads to the storm, but + Prosper Horslaville egged on the old woman, and was only amused at her + wrath. + </p> + <p> + One day, when she was more angry than usual, he said: + </p> + <p> + “Do you know what I'd do if I were you?” + </p> + <p> + She fixed her owl's eyes on him, and waited for his next words. + </p> + <p> + Prosper went on: + </p> + <p> + “Your man is as hot as an oven, and he never leaves his bed—well, + I'd make him hatch some eggs.” + </p> + <p> + She was struck dumb at the suggestion, thinking that Prosper could not + possibly be in earnest. But he continued: + </p> + <p> + “I'd put five under one arm, and five under the other, the same day + that I set a hen. They'd all come out at the same time; then I'd take your + husband's chickens to the hen to bring up with her own. You'd rear a fine + lot that way.” + </p> + <p> + “Could it be done?” asked the astonished old woman. + </p> + <p> + “Could it be done?” echoed the man. “Why not? Since eggs + can be hatched in a warm box why shouldn't they be hatched in a warm bed?” + </p> + <p> + She was struck by this reasoning, and went away soothed and reflective. + </p> + <p> + A week later she entered Toine's room with her apron full of eggs, and + said: + </p> + <p> + “I've just put the yellow hen on ten eggs. Here are ten for you; try + not to break them.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you want?” asked the amazed Toine. + </p> + <p> + “I want you to hatch them, you lazy creature!” she answered. + </p> + <p> + He laughed at first; then, finding she was serious, he got angry, and + refused absolutely to have the eggs put under his great arms, that the + warmth of his body might hatch them. + </p> + <p> + But the old woman declared wrathfully: + </p> + <p> + “You'll get no dinner as long as you won't have them. You'll see + what'll happen.” + </p> + <p> + Tome was uneasy, but answered nothing. + </p> + <p> + When twelve o'clock struck, he called out: + </p> + <p> + “Hullo, mother, is the soup ready?” + </p> + <p> + “There's no soup for you, lazy-bones,” cried the old woman + from her kitchen. + </p> + <p> + He thought she must be joking, and waited a while. Then he begged, + implored, swore, “tacked to the north” and “tacked to + the south,” and beat on the wall with his fists, but had to consent + at last to five eggs being placed against his left side; after which he + had his soup. + </p> + <p> + When his friends arrived that afternoon they thought he must be ill, he + seemed so constrained and queer. + </p> + <p> + They started the daily game of dominoes. But Tome appeared to take no + pleasure in it, and reached forth his hand very slowly, and with great + precaution. + </p> + <p> + “What's wrong with your arm?” asked Horslaville. + </p> + <p> + “I have a sort of stiffness in the shoulder,” answered Toine. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly they heard people come into the inn. The players were silent. + </p> + <p> + It was the mayor with the deputy. They ordered two glasses of + Extra-Special, and began to discuss local affairs. As they were talking in + somewhat low tones Toine wanted to put his ear to the wall, and, + forgetting all about his eggs, he made a sudden “tack to the north,” + which had the effect of plunging him into the midst of an omelette. + </p> + <p> + At the loud oath he swore his wife came hurrying into the room, and, + guessing what had happened, stripped the bedclothes from him with + lightning rapidity. She stood at first without moving or uttering a + syllable, speechless with indignation at sight of the yellow poultice + sticking to her husband's side. + </p> + <p> + Then, trembling with fury, she threw herself on the paralytic, showering + on him blows such as those with which she cleaned her linen on the + seashore. Tome's three friends were choking with laughter, coughing, + spluttering and shouting, and the fat innkeeper himself warded his wife's + attacks with all the prudence of which he was capable, that he might not + also break the five eggs at his other side. + </p> + <p> + Tome was conquered. He had to hatch eggs, he had to give up his games of + dominoes and renounce movement of any sort, for the old woman angrily + deprived him of food whenever he broke an egg. + </p> + <p> + He lay on his back, with eyes fixed on the ceiling, motionless, his arms + raised like wings, warming against his body the rudimentary chickens + enclosed in their white shells. + </p> + <p> + He spoke now only in hushed tones; as if he feared a noise as much as + motion, and he took a feverish interest in the yellow hen who was + accomplishing in the poultry-yard the same task as he. + </p> + <p> + “Has the yellow hen eaten her food all right?” he would ask + his wife. + </p> + <p> + And the old woman went from her fowls to her husband and from her husband + to her fowls, devoured by anxiety as to the welfare of the little chickens + who were maturing in the bed and in the nest. + </p> + <p> + The country people who knew the story came, agog with curiosity, to ask + news of Toine. They entered his room on tiptoe, as one enters a + sick-chamber, and asked: + </p> + <p> + “Well! how goes it?” + </p> + <p> + “All right,” said Toine; “only it keeps me fearfully + hot.” + </p> + <p> + One morning his wife entered in a state of great excitement, and declared: + </p> + <p> + “The yellow hen has seven chickens! Three of the eggs were addled.” + </p> + <p> + Toine's heart beat painfully. How many would he have? + </p> + <p> + “Will it soon be over?” he asked, with the anguish of a woman + who is about to become a mother. + </p> + <p> + “It's to be hoped so!” answered the old woman crossly, haunted + by fear of failure. + </p> + <p> + They waited. Friends of Toine who had got wind that his time was drawing + near arrived, and filled the little room. + </p> + <p> + Nothing else was talked about in the neighboring cottages. Inquirers asked + one another for news as they stood at their doors. + </p> + <p> + About three o'clock Toine fell asleep. He slumbered half his time + nowadays. He was suddenly awakened by an unaccustomed tickling under his + right arm. He put his left hand on the spot, and seized a little creature + covered with yellow down, which fluttered in his hand. + </p> + <p> + His emotion was so great that he cried out, and let go his hold of the + chicken, which ran over his chest. The bar was full of people at the time. + The customers rushed to Toine's room, and made a circle round him as they + would round a travelling showman; while Madame Toine picked up the + chicken, which had taken refuge under her husband's beard. + </p> + <p> + No one spoke, so great was the tension. It was a warm April day. Outside + the window the yellow hen could be heard calling to her newly-fledged + brood. + </p> + <p> + Toine, who was perspiring with emotion and anxiety, murmured: + </p> + <p> + “I have another now—under the left arm.” + </p> + <p> + His' wife plunged her great bony hand into the bed, and pulled out a + second chicken with all the care of a midwife. + </p> + <p> + The neighbors wanted to see it. It was passed from one to another, and + examined as if it were a phenomenon. + </p> + <p> + For twenty minutes no more hatched out, then four emerged at the same + moment from their shells. + </p> + <p> + There was a great commotion among the lookers-on. And Toine smiled with + satisfaction, beginning to take pride in this unusual sort of paternity. + There were not many like him! Truly, he was a remarkable specimen of + humanity! + </p> + <p> + “That makes six!” he declared. “Great heavens, what a + christening we'll have!” + </p> + <p> + And a loud laugh rose from all present. Newcomers filled the bar. They + asked one another: + </p> + <p> + “How many are there?” + </p> + <p> + “Six.” + </p> + <p> + Toine's wife took this new family to the hen, who clucked loudly, bristled + her feathers, and spread her wings wide to shelter her growing brood of + little ones. + </p> + <p> + “There's one more!” cried Toine. + </p> + <p> + He was mistaken. There were three! It was an unalloyed triumph! The last + chicken broke through its shell at seven o'clock in the evening. All the + eggs were good! And Toine, beside himself with joy, his brood hatched out, + exultant, kissed the tiny creature on the back, almost suffocating it. He + wanted to keep it in his bed until morning, moved by a mother's tenderness + toward the tiny being which he had brought to life, but the old woman + carried it away like the others, turning a deaf ear to her husband's + entreaties. + </p> + <p> + The delighted spectators went off to spread the news of the event, and + Horslaville, who was the last to go, asked: + </p> + <p> + “You'll invite me when the first is cooked, won't you, Toine?” + </p> + <p> + At this idea a smile overspread the fat man's face, and he answered: + </p> + <p> + “Certainly I'll invite you, my son-in-law.” + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0136"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + MADAME HUSSON'S “ROSIER” + </h2> + <p> + We had just left Gisors, where I was awakened to hearing the name of the + town called out by the guards, and I was dozing off again when a terrific + shock threw me forward on top of a large lady who sat opposite me. + </p> + <p> + One of the wheels of the engine had broken, and the engine itself lay + across the track. The tender and the baggage car were also derailed, and + lay beside this mutilated engine, which rattled, groaned, hissed, puffed, + sputtered, and resembled those horses that fall in the street with their + flanks heaving, their breast palpitating, their nostrils steaming and + their whole body trembling, but incapable of the slightest effort to rise + and start off again. + </p> + <p> + There were no dead or wounded; only a few with bruises, for the train was + not going at full speed. And we looked with sorrow at the great crippled + iron creature that could not draw us along any more, and that blocked the + track, perhaps for some time, for no doubt they would have to send to + Paris for a special train to come to our aid. + </p> + <p> + It was then ten o'clock in the morning, and I at once decided to go back + to Gisors for breakfast. + </p> + <p> + As I was walking along I said to myself: + </p> + <p> + “Gisors, Gisors—why, I know someone there! + </p> + <p> + “Who is it? Gisors? Let me see, I have a friend in this town.” + A name suddenly came to my mind, “Albert Marambot.” He was an + old school friend whom I had not seen for at least twelve years, and who + was practicing medicine in Gisors. He had often written, inviting me to + come and see him, and I had always promised to do so, without keeping my + word. But at last I would take advantage of this opportunity. + </p> + <p> + I asked the first passer-by: + </p> + <p> + “Do you know where Dr. Marambot lives?” + </p> + <p> + He replied, without hesitation, and with the drawling accent of the + Normans: + </p> + <p> + “Rue Dauphine.” + </p> + <p> + I presently saw, on the door of the house he pointed out, a large brass + plate on which was engraved the name of my old chum. I rang the bell, but + the servant, a yellow-haired girl who moved slowly, said with a Stupid + air: + </p> + <p> + “He isn't here, he isn't here.” + </p> + <p> + I heard a sound of forks and of glasses and I cried: + </p> + <p> + “Hallo, Marambot!” + </p> + <p> + A door opened and a large man, with whiskers and a cross look on his face, + appeared, carrying a dinner napkin in his hand. + </p> + <p> + I certainly should not have recognized him. One would have said he was + forty-five at least, and, in a second, all the provincial life which makes + one grow heavy, dull and old came before me. In a single flash of thought, + quicker than the act of extending my hand to him, I could see his life, + his manner of existence, his line of thought and his theories of things in + general. I guessed at the prolonged meals that had rounded out his + stomach, his after-dinner naps from the torpor of a slow indigestion aided + by cognac, and his vague glances cast on the patient while he thought of + the chicken that was roasting before the fire. His conversations about + cooking, about cider, brandy and wine, the way of preparing certain dishes + and of blending certain sauces were revealed to me at sight of his puffy + red cheeks, his heavy lips and his lustreless eyes. + </p> + <p> + “You do not recognize me. I am Raoul Aubertin,” I said. + </p> + <p> + He opened his arms and gave me such a hug that I thought he would choke + me. + </p> + <p> + “You have not breakfasted, have you?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “How fortunate! I was just sitting down to table and I have an + excellent trout.” + </p> + <p> + Five minutes later I was sitting opposite him at breakfast. I said: + </p> + <p> + “Are you a bachelor?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, indeed.” + </p> + <p> + “And do you like it here?” + </p> + <p> + “Time does not hang heavy; I am busy. I have patients and friends. I + eat well, have good health, enjoy laughing and shooting. I get along.” + </p> + <p> + “Is not life very monotonous in this little town?” + </p> + <p> + “No, my dear boy, not when one knows how to fill in the time. A + little town, in fact, is like a large one. The incidents and amusements + are less varied, but one makes more of them; one has fewer acquaintances, + but one meets them more frequently. When you know all the windows in a + street, each one of them interests you and puzzles you more than a whole + street in Paris. + </p> + <p> + “A little town is very amusing, you know, very amusing, very + amusing. Why, take Gisors. I know it at the tips of my fingers, from its + beginning up to the present time. You have no idea what queer history it + has.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you belong to Gisors?” + </p> + <p> + “I? No. I come from Gournay, its neighbor and rival. Gournay is to + Gisors what Lucullus was to Cicero. Here, everything is for glory; they + say 'the proud people of Gisors.' At Gournay, everything is for the + stomach; they say 'the chewers of Gournay.' Gisors despises Gournay, but + Gournay laughs at Gisors. It is a very comical country, this.” + </p> + <p> + I perceived that I was eating something very delicious, hard-boiled eggs + wrapped in a covering of meat jelly flavored with herbs and put on ice for + a few moments. I said as I smacked my lips to compliment Marambot: + </p> + <p> + “That is good.” + </p> + <p> + He smiled. + </p> + <p> + “Two things are necessary, good jelly, which is hard to get, and + good eggs. Oh, how rare good eggs are, with the yolks slightly reddish, + and with a good flavor! I have two poultry yards, one for eggs and the + other for chickens. I feed my laying hens in a special manner. I have my + own ideas on the subject. In an egg, as in the meat of a chicken, in beef, + or in mutton, in milk, in everything, one perceives, and ought to taste, + the juice, the quintessence of all the food on which the animal has fed. + How much better food we could have if more attention were paid to this!” + </p> + <p> + I laughed as I said: + </p> + <p> + “You are a gourmand?” + </p> + <p> + “Parbleu. It is only imbeciles who are not. One is a gourmand as one + is an artist, as one is learned, as one is a poet. The sense of taste, my + friend, is very delicate, capable of perfection, and quite as worthy of + respect as the eye and the ear. A person who lacks this sense is deprived + of an exquisite faculty, the faculty of discerning the quality of food, + just as one may lack the faculty of discerning the beauties of a book or + of a work of art; it means to be deprived of an essential organ, of + something that belongs to higher humanity; it means to belong to one of + those innumerable classes of the infirm, the unfortunate, and the fools of + which our race is composed; it means to have the mouth of an animal, in a + word, just like the mind of an animal. A man who cannot distinguish one + kind of lobster from another; a herring—that admirable fish that has + all the flavors, all the odors of the sea—from a mackerel or a + whiting; and a Cresane from a Duchess pear, may be compared to a man who + should mistake Balzac for Eugene Sue; a symphony of Beethoven for a + military march composed by the bandmaster of a regiment; and the Apollo + Belvidere for the statue of General de Blaumont. + </p> + <p> + “Who is General de Blaumont?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that's true, you do not know. It is easy to tell that you do + not belong to Gisors. I told you just now, my dear boy, that they called + the inhabitants of this town 'the proud people of Gisors,' and never was + an epithet better deserved. But let us finish breakfast first, and then I + will tell you about our town and take you to see it.” + </p> + <p> + He stopped talking every now and then while he slowly drank a glass of + wine which he gazed at affectionately as he replaced the glass on the + table. + </p> + <p> + It was amusing to see him, with a napkin tied around his neck, his cheeks + flushed, his eyes eager, and his whiskers spreading round his mouth as it + kept working. + </p> + <p> + He made me eat until I was almost choking. Then, as I was about to return + to the railway station, he seized me by the arm and took me through the + streets. The town, of a pretty, provincial type, commanded by its citadel, + the most curious monument of military architecture of the seventh century + to be found in France, overlooks, in its turn, a long, green valley, where + the large Norman cows graze and ruminate in the pastures. + </p> + <p> + The doctor quoted: + </p> + <p> + “'Gisors, a town of 4,000 inhabitants in the department of Eure, + mentioned in Caesar's Commentaries: Caesaris ostium, then Caesartium, + Caesortium, Gisortium, Gisors.' I shall not take you to visit the old + Roman encampment, the remains of which are still in existence.” + </p> + <p> + I laughed and replied: + </p> + <p> + “My dear friend, it seems to me that you are affected with a special + malady that, as a doctor, you ought to study; it is called the spirit of + provincialism.” + </p> + <p> + He stopped abruptly. + </p> + <p> + “The spirit of provincialism, my friend, is nothing but natural + patriotism,” he said. “I love my house, my town and my + province because I discover in them the customs of my own village; but if + I love my country, if I become angry when a neighbor sets foot in it, it + is because I feel that my home is in danger, because the frontier that I + do not know is the high road to my province. For instance, I am a Norman, + a true Norman; well, in spite of my hatred of the German and my desire for + revenge, I do not detest them, I do not hate them by instinct as I hate + the English, the real, hereditary natural enemy of the Normans; for the + English traversed this soil inhabited by my ancestors, plundered and + ravaged it twenty times, and my aversion to this perfidious people was + transmitted to me at birth by my father. See, here is the statue of the + general.” + </p> + <p> + “What general?” + </p> + <p> + “General Blaumont! We had to have a statue. We are not 'the proud + people of Gisors' for nothing! So we discovered General de Blaumont. Look + in this bookseller's window.” + </p> + <p> + He drew me towards the bookstore, where about fifteen red, yellow and blue + volumes attracted the eye. As I read the titles, I began to laugh + idiotically. They read: + </p> + <p> + Gisors, its origin, its future, by M. X. . . ., member of several learned + societies; History of Gisors, by the Abbe A . . .; Gisors from the time of + Caesar to the present day, by M. B. . . ., Landowner; Gisors and its + environs, by Doctor C. D. . . .; The Glories of Gisors, by a Discoverer. + </p> + <p> + “My friend,” resumed Marambot, “not a year, not a single + year, you understand, passes without a fresh history of Gisors being + published here; we now have twenty-three.” + </p> + <p> + “And the glories of Gisors?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I will not mention them all, only the principal ones. We had + first General de Blaumont, then Baron Davillier, the celebrated ceramist + who explored Spain and the Balearic Isles, and brought to the notice of + collectors the wonderful Hispano-Arabic china. In literature we have a + very clever journalist, now dead, Charles Brainne, and among those who are + living, the very eminent editor of the Nouvelliste de Rouen, Charles + Lapierre . . . and many others, many others.” + </p> + <p> + We were traversing along street with a gentle incline, with a June sun + beating down on it and driving the residents into their houses. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly there appeared at the farther end of the street a drunken man who + was staggering along, with his head forward his arms and legs limp. He + would walk forward rapidly three, six, or ten steps and then stop. When + these energetic movements landed him in the middle of the road he stopped + short and swayed on his feet, hesitating between falling and a fresh + start. Then he would dart off in any direction, sometimes falling against + the wall of a house, against which he seemed to be fastened, as though he + were trying to get in through the wall. Then he would suddenly turn round + and look ahead of him, his mouth open and his eyes blinking in the + sunlight, and getting away from the wall by a movement of the hips, he + started off once more. + </p> + <p> + A little yellow dog, a half-starved cur, followed him, barking; stopping + when he stopped, and starting off when he started. + </p> + <p> + “Hallo,” said Marambot, “there is Madame Husson's + 'Rosier'. + </p> + <p> + “Madame Husson's 'Rosier',” I exclaimed in astonishment. + “What do you mean?” + </p> + <p> + The doctor began to laugh. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that is what we call drunkards round here. The name comes from + an old story which has now become a legend, although it is true in all + respects.” + </p> + <p> + “Is it an amusing story?” + </p> + <p> + “Very amusing.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, tell it to me.” + </p> + <p> + “I will.” + </p> + <p> + There lived formerly in this town a very upright old lady who was a great + guardian of morals and was called Mme. Husson. You know, I am telling you + the real names and not imaginary ones. Mme. Husson took a special interest + in good works, in helping the poor and encouraging the deserving. She was + a little woman with a quick walk and wore a black wig. She was + ceremonious, polite, on very good terms with the Almighty in the person of + Abby Malon, and had a profound horror, an inborn horror of vice, and, in + particular, of the vice the Church calls lasciviousness. Any irregularity + before marriage made her furious, exasperated her till she was beside + herself. + </p> + <p> + Now, this was the period when they presented a prize as a reward of virtue + to any girl in the environs of Paris who was found to be chaste. She was + called a Rosiere, and Mme. Husson got the idea that she would institute a + similar ceremony at Gisors. She spoke about it to Abbe Malon, who at once + made out a list of candidates. + </p> + <p> + However, Mme. Husson had a servant, an old woman called Francoise, as + upright as her mistress. As soon as the priest had left, madame called the + servant and said: + </p> + <p> + “Here, Francoise, here are the girls whose names M. le cure has + submitted to me for the prize of virtue; try and find out what reputation + they bear in the district.” + </p> + <p> + And Francoise set out. She collected all the scandal, all the stories, all + the tattle, all the suspicions. That she might omit nothing, she wrote it + all down together with her memoranda in her housekeeping book, and handed + it each morning to Mme. Husson, who, after adjusting her spectacles on her + thin nose, read as follows: + </p> +<div class='pre'> + Bread...........................four sous + Milk............................two sous + Butter .........................eight sous +Malvina Levesque got into trouble last year with Mathurin Poilu. + Leg of mutton...................twenty-five sous + Salt............................one sou +Rosalie Vatinel was seen in the Riboudet woods with Cesaire Pienoir, by +Mme. Onesime, the ironer, on July the 20th about dusk. + Radishes........................one sou + Vinegar.........................two sous + Oxalic acid.....................two sous +</div> + <p> + Josephine Durdent, who is not believed to have committed a fault, although + she corresponds with young Oportun, who is in service in Rouen, and who + sent her a present of a cap by diligence. + </p> + <p> + Not one came out unscathed in this rigorous inquisition. Francoise + inquired of everyone, neighbors, drapers, the principal, the teaching + sisters at school, and gathered the slightest details. + </p> + <p> + As there is not a girl in the world about whom gossips have not found + something to say, there was not found in all the countryside one young + girl whose name was free from some scandal. + </p> + <p> + But Mme. Husson desired that the “Rosiere” of Gisors, like + Caesar's wife, should be above suspicion, and she was horrified, saddened + and in despair at the record in her servant's housekeeping account-book. + </p> + <p> + They then extended their circle of inquiries to the neighboring villages; + but with no satisfaction. + </p> + <p> + They consulted the mayor. His candidates failed. Those of Dr. Barbesol + were equally unlucky, in spite of the exactness of his scientific + vouchers. + </p> + <p> + But one morning Francoise, on returning from one of her expeditions, said + to her mistress: + </p> + <p> + “You see, madame, that if you wish to give a prize to anyone, there + is only Isidore in all the country round.” + </p> + <p> + Mme. Husson remained thoughtful. She knew him well, this Isidore, the son + of Virginie the greengrocer. His proverbial virtue had been the delight of + Gisors for several years, and served as an entertaining theme of + conversation in the town, and of amusement to the young girls who loved to + tease him. He was past twenty-one, was tall, awkward, slow and timid; + helped his mother in the business, and spent his days picking over fruit + and vegetables, seated on a chair outside the door. + </p> + <p> + He had an abnormal dread of a petticoat and cast down his eyes whenever a + female customer looked at him smilingly, and this well-known timidity made + him the butt of all the wags in the country. + </p> + <p> + Bold words, coarse expressions, indecent allusions, brought the color to + his cheeks so quickly that Dr. Barbesol had nicknamed him “the + thermometer of modesty.” Was he as innocent as he looked? + ill-natured people asked themselves. Was it the mere presentiment of + unknown and shameful mysteries or else indignation at the relations + ordained as the concomitant of love that so strongly affected the son of + Virginie the greengrocer? The urchins of the neighborhood as they ran past + the shop would fling disgusting remarks at him just to see him cast down + his eyes. The girls amused themselves by walking up and down before him, + cracking jokes that made him go into the store. The boldest among them + teased him to his face just to have a laugh, to amuse themselves, made + appointments with him and proposed all sorts of things. + </p> + <p> + So Madame Husson had become thoughtful. + </p> + <p> + Certainly, Isidore was an exceptional case of notorious, unassailable + virtue. No one, among the most sceptical, most incredulous, would have + been able, would have dared, to suspect Isidore of the slightest + infraction of any law of morality. He had never been seen in a cafe, never + been seen at night on the street. He went to bed at eight o'clock and rose + at four. He was a perfection, a pearl. + </p> + <p> + But Mme. Husson still hesitated. The idea of substituting a boy for a + girl, a “rosier” for a “rosiere,” troubled her, + worried her a little, and she resolved to consult Abbe Malon. + </p> + <p> + The abbe responded: + </p> + <p> + “What do you desire to reward, madame? It is virtue, is it not, and + nothing but virtue? What does it matter to you, therefore, if it is + masculine or feminine? Virtue is eternal; it has neither sex nor country; + it is 'Virtue.'” + </p> + <p> + Thus encouraged, Mme. Husson went to see the mayor. + </p> + <p> + He approved heartily. + </p> + <p> + “We will have a fine ceremony,” he said. “And another + year if we can find a girl as worthy as Isidore we will give the reward to + her. It will even be a good example that we shall set to Nanterre. Let us + not be exclusive; let us welcome all merit.” + </p> + <p> + Isidore, who had been told about this, blushed deeply and seemed happy. + </p> + <p> + The ceremony was fixed for the 15th of August, the festival of the Virgin + Mary and of the Emperor Napoleon. The municipality had decided to make an + imposing ceremony and had built the platform on the couronneaux, a + delightful extension of the ramparts of the old citadel where I will take + you presently. + </p> + <p> + With the natural revulsion of public feeling, the virtue of Isidore, + ridiculed hitherto, had suddenly become respected and envied, as it would + bring him in five hundred francs besides a savings bank book, a mountain + of consideration, and glory enough and to spare. The girls now regretted + their frivolity, their ridicule, their bold manners; and Isidore, although + still modest and timid, had now a little contented air that bespoke his + internal satisfaction. + </p> + <p> + The evening before the 15th of August the entire Rue Dauphine was + decorated with flags. Oh, I forgot to tell you why this street had been + called Rue Dauphine. + </p> + <p> + It seems that the wife or mother of the dauphin, I do not remember which + one, while visiting Gisors had been feted so much by the authorities that + during a triumphal procession through the town she stopped before one of + the houses in this street, halting the procession, and exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “Oh, the pretty house! How I should like to go through it! To whom + does it belong?” + </p> + <p> + They told her the name of the owner, who was sent for and brought, proud + and embarrassed, before the princess. She alighted from her carriage, went + into the house, wishing to go over it from top to bottom, and even shut + herself in one of the rooms alone for a few seconds. + </p> + <p> + When she came out, the people, flattered at this honor paid to a citizen + of Gisors, shouted “Long live the dauphine!” But a rhymester + wrote some words to a refrain, and the street retained the title of her + royal highness, for + </p> +<div class='pre'> + “The princess, in a hurry, + Without bell, priest, or beadle, + But with some water only, + Had baptized it.” + </div> + <p> + But to come back to Isidore. + </p> + <p> + They had scattered flowers all along the road as they do for processions + at the Fete-Dieu, and the National Guard was present, acting on the orders + of their chief, Commandant Desbarres, an old soldier of the Grand Army, + who pointed with pride to the beard of a Cossack cut with a single sword + stroke from the chin of its owner by the commandant during the retreat in + Russia, and which hung beside the frame containing the cross of the Legion + of Honor presented to him by the emperor himself. + </p> + <p> + The regiment that he commanded was, besides, a picked regiment celebrated + all through the province, and the company of grenadiers of Gisors was + called on to attend all important ceremonies for a distance of fifteen to + twenty leagues. The story goes that Louis Philippe, while reviewing the + militia of Eure, stopped in astonishment before the company from Gisors, + exclaiming: + </p> + <p> + “Oh, who are those splendid grenadiers?” + </p> + <p> + “The grenadiers of Gisors,” replied the general. + </p> + <p> + “I might have known it,” murmured the king. + </p> + <p> + So Commandant Desbarres came at the head of his men, preceded by the band, + to get Isidore in his mother's store. + </p> + <p> + After a little air had been played by the band beneath the windows, the + “Rosier” himself appeared—on the threshold. He was + dressed in white duck from head to foot and wore a straw hat with a little + bunch of orange blossoms as a cockade. + </p> + <p> + The question of his clothes had bothered Mme. Husson a good deal, and she + hesitated some time between the black coat of those who make their first + communion and an entire white suit. But Francoise, her counsellor, induced + her to decide on the white suit, pointing out that the Rosier would look + like a swan. + </p> + <p> + Behind him came his guardian, his godmother, Mme. Husson, in triumph. She + took his arm to go out of the store, and the mayor placed himself on the + other side of the Rosier. The drums beat. Commandant Desbarres gave the + order “Present arms!” The procession resumed its march towards + the church amid an immense crowd of people who has gathered from the + neighboring districts. + </p> + <p> + After a short mass and an affecting discourse by Abbe Malon, they + continued on their way to the couronneaux, where the banquet was served in + a tent. + </p> + <p> + Before taking their seats at table, the mayor gave an address. This is it, + word for word. I learned it by heart: + </p> + <p> + “Young man, a woman of means, beloved by the poor and respected by + the rich, Mme. Husson, whom the whole country is thanking here, through + me, had the idea, the happy and benevolent idea, of founding in this town + a prize for virtue, which should serve as a valuable encouragement to the + inhabitants of this beautiful country. + </p> + <p> + “You, young man, are the first to be rewarded in this dynasty of + goodness and chastity. Your name will remain at the head of this list of + the most deserving, and your life, understand me, your whole life, must + correspond to this happy commencement. To-day, in presence of this noble + woman, of these soldier-citizens who have taken up their arms in your + honor, in presence of this populace, affected, assembled to applaud you, + or, rather, to applaud virtue, in your person, you make a solemn contract + with the town, with all of us, to continue until your death the excellent + example of your youth. + </p> + <p> + “Do not forget, young man, that you are the first seed cast into + this field of hope; give us the fruits that we expect of you.” + </p> + <p> + The mayor advanced three steps, opened his arms and pressed Isidore to his + heart. + </p> + <p> + The “Rosier” was sobbing without knowing why, from a confused + emotion, from pride and a vague and happy feeling of tenderness. + </p> + <p> + Then the mayor placed in one hand a silk purse in which gold tingled + —five hundred francs in gold!—and in his other hand a savings + bank book. And he said in a solemn tone: + </p> + <p> + “Homage, glory and riches to virtue.” + </p> + <p> + Commandant Desbarres shouted “Bravo!” the grenadiers + vociferated, and the crowd applauded. + </p> + <p> + Mme. Husson wiped her eyes, in her turn. Then they all sat down at the + table where the banquet was served. + </p> + <p> + The repast was magnificent and seemed interminable. One course followed + another; yellow cider and red wine in fraternal contact blended in the + stomach of the guests. The rattle of plates, the sound of voices, and of + music softly played, made an incessant deep hum, and was dispersed abroad + in the clear sky where the swallows were flying. Mme. Husson occasionally + readjusted her black wig, which would slip over on one side, and chatted + with Abbe Malon. The mayor, who was excited, talked politics with + Commandant Desbarres, and Isidore ate, drank, as if he had never eaten or + drunk before. He helped himself repeatedly to all the dishes, becoming + aware for the first time of the pleasure of having one's belly full of + good things which tickle the palate in the first place. He had let out a + reef in his belt and, without speaking, and although he was a little + uneasy at a wine stain on his white waistcoat, he ceased eating in order + to take up his glass and hold it to his mouth as long as possible, to + enjoy the taste slowly. + </p> + <p> + It was time for the toasts. They were many and loudly applauded. Evening + was approaching and they had been at the table since noon. Fine, milky + vapors were already floating in the air in the valley, the light + night-robe of streams and meadows; the sun neared the horizon; the cows + were lowing in the distance amid the mists of the pasture. The feast was + over. They returned to Gisors. The procession, now disbanded, walked in + detachments. Mme. Husson had taken Isidore's arm and was giving him a + quantity of urgent, excellent advice. + </p> + <p> + They stopped at the door of the fruit store, and the “Rosier” + was left at his mother's house. She had not come home yet. Having been + invited by her family to celebrate her son's triumph, she had taken + luncheon with her sister after having followed the procession as far as + the banqueting tent. + </p> + <p> + So Isidore remained alone in the store, which was growing dark. He sat + down on a chair, excited by the wine and by pride, and looked about him. + Carrots, cabbages, and onions gave out their strong odor of vegetables in + the closed room, that coarse smell of the garden blended with the sweet, + penetrating odor of strawberries and the delicate, slight, evanescent + fragrance of a basket of peaches. + </p> + <p> + The “Rosier” took one of these and ate it, although he was as + full as an egg. Then, all at once, wild with joy, he began to dance about + the store, and something rattled in his waistcoat. + </p> + <p> + He was surprised, and put his hand in his pocket and brought out the purse + containing the five hundred francs, which he had forgotten in his + agitation. Five hundred francs! What a fortune! He poured the gold pieces + out on the counter and spread them out with his big hand with a slow, + caressing touch so as to see them all at the same time. There were + twenty-five, twenty-five round gold pieces, all gold! They glistened on + the wood in the dim light and he counted them over and over, one by one. + Then he put them back in the purse, which he replaced in his pocket. + </p> + <p> + Who will ever know or who can tell what a terrible conflict took place in + the soul of the “Rosier” between good and evil, the tumultuous + attack of Satan, his artifices, the temptations which he offered to this + timid virgin heart? What suggestions, what imaginations, what desires were + not invented by the evil one to excite and destroy this chosen one? He + seized his hat, Mme. Husson's saint, his hat, which still bore the little + bunch of orange blossoms, and going out through the alley at the back of + the house, he disappeared in the darkness. + </p> + <p> + Virginie, the fruiterer, on learning that her son had returned, went home + at once, and found the house empty. She waited, without thinking anything + about it at first; but at the end of a quarter of an hour she made + inquiries. The neighbors had seen Isidore come home and had not seen him + go out again. They began to look for him, but could not find him. His + mother, in alarm, went to the mayor. The mayor knew nothing, except that + he had left him at the door of his home. Mme. Husson had just retired when + they informed her that her protege had disappeared. She immediately put on + her wig, dressed herself and went to Virginie's house. Virginie, whose + plebeian soul was readily moved, was weeping copiously amid her cabbages, + carrots and onions. + </p> + <p> + They feared some accident had befallen him. What could it be? Commandant + Desbarres notified the police, who made a circuit of the town, and on the + high road to Pontoise they found the little bunch of orange blossoms. It + was placed on a table around which the authorities were deliberating. The + “Rosier” must have been the victim of some stratagem, some + trick, some jealousy; but in what way? What means had been employed to + kidnap this innocent creature, and with what object? + </p> + <p> + Weary of looking for him without any result, Virginie, alone, remained + watching and weeping. + </p> + <p> + The following evening, when the coach passed by on its return from Paris, + Gisors learned with astonishment that its “Rosier” had stopped + the vehicle at a distance of about two hundred metres from the town, had + climbed up on it and paid his fare, handing over a gold piece and + receiving the change, and that he had quietly alighted in the centre of + the great city. + </p> + <p> + There was great excitement all through the countryside. Letters passed + between the mayor and the chief of police in Paris, but brought no result. + </p> + <p> + The days followed one another, a week passed. + </p> + <p> + Now, one morning, Dr. Barbesol, who had gone out early, perceived, sitting + on a doorstep, a man dressed in a grimy linen suit, who was sleeping with + his head leaning against the wall. He approached him and recognized + Isidore. He tried to rouse him, but did not succeed in doing so. The ex-“Rosier” + was in that profound, invincible sleep that is alarming, and the doctor, + in surprise, went to seek assistance to help him in carrying the young man + to Boncheval's drugstore. When they lifted him up they found an empty + bottle under him, and when the doctor sniffed at it, he declared that it + had contained brandy. That gave a suggestion as to what treatment he would + require. They succeeded in rousing him. + </p> + <p> + Isidore was drunk, drunk and degraded by a week of guzzling, drunk and so + disgusting that a ragman would not have touched him. His beautiful white + duck suit was a gray rag, greasy, muddy, torn, and destroyed, and he smelt + of the gutter and of vice. + </p> + <p> + He was washed, sermonized, shut up, and did not leave the house for four + days. He seemed ashamed and repentant. They could not find on him either + his purse, containing the five hundred francs, or the bankbook, or even + his silver watch, a sacred heirloom left by his father, the fruiterer. + </p> + <p> + On the fifth day he ventured into the Rue Dauphine, Curious glances + followed him and he walked along with a furtive expression in his eyes and + his head bent down. As he got outside the town towards the valley they + lost sight of him; but two hours later he returned laughing and rolling + against the walls. He was drunk, absolutely drunk. + </p> + <p> + Nothing could cure him. + </p> + <p> + Driven from home by his mother, he became a wagon driver, and drove the + charcoal wagons for the Pougrisel firm, which is still in existence. + </p> + <p> + His reputation as a drunkard became so well known and spread so far that + even at Evreux they talked of Mme. Husson's “Rosier,” and the + sots of the countryside have been given that nickname. + </p> + <p> + A good deed is never lost. + </p> + <p> + Dr. Marambot rubbed his hands as he finished his story. I asked: + </p> + <p> + “Did you know the 'Rosier'?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. I had the honor of closing his eyes.” + </p> + <p> + “What did he die of?” + </p> + <p> + “An attack of delirium tremens, of course.” + </p> + <p> + We had arrived at the old citadel, a pile of ruined walls dominated by the + enormous tower of St. Thomas of Canterbury and the one called the + Prisoner's Tower. + </p> + <p> + Marambot told me the story of this prisoner, who, with the aid of a nail, + covered the walls of his dungeon with sculptures, tracing the reflections + of the sun as it glanced through the narrow slit of a loophole. + </p> + <p> + I also learned that Clothaire II had given the patrimony of Gisors to his + cousin, Saint Romain, bishop of Rouen; that Gisors ceased to be the + capital of the whole of Vexin after the treaty of Saint-Clair-sur-Epte; + that the town is the chief strategic centre of all that portion of France, + and that in consequence of this advantage she was taken and retaken over + and over again. At the command of William the Red, the eminent engineer, + Robert de Bellesme, constructed there a powerful fortress that was + attacked later by Louis le Gros, then by the Norman barons, was defended + by Robert de Candos, was finally ceded to Louis le Gros by Geoffry + Plantagenet, was retaken by the English in consequence of the treachery of + the Knights-Templars, was contested by Philippe-Augustus and Richard the + Lionhearted, was set on fire by Edward III of England, who could not take + the castle, was again taken by the English in 1419, restored later to + Charles VIII by Richard de Marbury, was taken by the Duke of Calabria + occupied by the League, inhabited by Henry IV, etc., etc. + </p> + <p> + And Marambot, eager and almost eloquent, continued: + </p> + <p> + “What beggars, those English! And what sots, my boy; they are all + 'Rosiers,' those hypocrites!” + </p> + <p> + Then, after a silence, stretching out his arm towards the tiny river that + glistened in the meadows, he said: + </p> + <p> + “Did you know that Henry Monnier was one of the most untiring + fishermen on the banks of the Epte?” + </p> + <p> + “No, I did not know it.” + </p> + <p> + “And Bouffe, my boy, Bouffe was a painter on glass.” + </p> + <p> + “You are joking!” + </p> + <p> + “No, indeed. How is it you do not know these things?” + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0137"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + THE ADOPTED SON + </h2> + <p> + The two cottages stood beside each other at the foot of a hill near a + little seashore resort. The two peasants labored hard on the unproductive + soil to rear their little ones, and each family had four. + </p> + <p> + Before the adjoining doors a whole troop of urchins played and tumbled + about from morning till night. The two eldest were six years old, and the + youngest were about fifteen months; the marriages, and afterward the + births, having taken place nearly simultaneously in both families. + </p> + <p> + The two mothers could hardly distinguish their own offspring among the + lot, and as for the fathers, they were altogether at sea. The eight names + danced in their heads; they were always getting them mixed up; and when + they wished to call one child, the men often called three names before + getting the right one. + </p> + <p> + The first of the two cottages, as you came up from the bathing beach, + Rolleport, was occupied by the Tuvaches, who had three girls and one boy; + the other house sheltered the Vallins, who had one girl and three boys. + </p> + <p> + They all subsisted frugally on soup, potatoes and fresh air. At seven + o'clock in the morning, then at noon, then at six o'clock in the evening, + the housewives got their broods together to give them their food, as the + gooseherds collect their charges. The children were seated, according to + age, before the wooden table, varnished by fifty years of use; the mouths + of the youngest hardly reaching the level of the table. Before them was + placed a bowl filled with bread, soaked in the water in which the potatoes + had been boiled, half a cabbage and three onions; and the whole line ate + until their hunger was appeased. The mother herself fed the smallest. + </p> + <p> + A small pot roast on Sunday was a feast for all; and the father on this + day sat longer over the meal, repeating: “I wish we could have this + every day.” + </p> + <p> + One afternoon, in the month of August, a phaeton stopped suddenly in front + of the cottages, and a young woman, who was driving the horses, said to + the gentleman sitting at her side: + </p> + <p> + “Oh, look at all those children, Henri! How pretty they are, + tumbling about in the dust, like that!” + </p> + <p> + The man did not answer, accustomed to these outbursts of admiration, which + were a pain and almost a reproach to him. The young woman continued: + </p> + <p> + “I must hug them! Oh, how I should like to have one of them—that + one there—the little tiny one!” + </p> + <p> + Springing down from the carriage, she ran toward the children, took one of + the two youngest—a Tuvache child—and lifting it up in her + arms, she kissed him passionately on his dirty cheeks, on his tousled hair + daubed with earth, and on his little hands, with which he fought + vigorously, to get away from the caresses which displeased him. + </p> + <p> + Then she got into the carriage again, and drove off at a lively trot. But + she returned the following week, and seating herself on the ground, took + the youngster in her arms, stuffed him with cakes; gave candies to all the + others, and played with them like a young girl, while the husband waited + patiently in the carriage. + </p> + <p> + She returned again; made the acquaintance of the parents, and reappeared + every day with her pockets full of dainties and pennies. + </p> + <p> + Her name was Madame Henri d'Hubieres. + </p> + <p> + One morning, on arriving, her husband alighted with her, and without + stopping to talk to the children, who now knew her well, she entered the + farmer's cottage. + </p> + <p> + They were busy chopping wood for the fire. They rose to their feet in + surprise, brought forward chairs, and waited expectantly. + </p> + <p> + Then the woman, in a broken, trembling voice, began: + </p> + <p> + “My good people, I have come to see you, because I should like—I + should like to take—your little boy with me—” + </p> + <p> + The country people, too bewildered to think, did not answer. + </p> + <p> + She recovered her breath, and continued: “We are alone, my husband + and I. We would keep it. Are you willing?” + </p> + <p> + The peasant woman began to understand. She asked: + </p> + <p> + “You want to take Charlot from us? Oh, no, indeed!” + </p> + <p> + Then M. d'Hubieres intervened: + </p> + <p> + “My wife has not made her meaning clear. We wish to adopt him, but + he will come back to see you. If he turns out well, as there is every + reason to expect, he will be our heir. If we, perchance, should have + children, he will share equally with them; but if he should not reward our + care, we should give him, when he comes of age, a sum of twenty thousand + francs, which shall be deposited immediately in his name, with a lawyer. + As we have thought also of you, we should pay you, until your death, a + pension of one hundred francs a month. Do you understand me?” + </p> + <p> + The woman had arisen, furious. + </p> + <p> + “You want me to sell you Charlot? Oh, no, that's not the sort of + thing to ask of a mother! Oh, no! That would be an abomination!” + </p> + <p> + The man, grave and deliberate, said nothing; but approved of what his wife + said by a continued nodding of his head. + </p> + <p> + Madame d'Hubieres, in dismay, began to weep; turning to her husband, with + a voice full of tears, the voice of a child used to having all its wishes + gratified, she stammered: + </p> + <p> + “They will not do it, Henri, they will not do it.” + </p> + <p> + Then he made a last attempt: “But, my friends, think of the child's + future, of his happiness, of—” + </p> + <p> + The peasant woman, however, exasperated, cut him short: + </p> + <p> + “It's all considered! It's all understood! Get out of here, and + don't let me see you again—the idea of wanting to take away a child + like that!” + </p> + <p> + Madame d'Hubieres remembered that there were two children, quite little, + and she asked, through her tears, with the tenacity of a wilful and + spoiled woman: + </p> + <p> + “But is the other little one not yours?” + </p> + <p> + Father Tuvache answered: “No, it is our neighbors'. You can go to + them if you wish.” And he went back into his house, whence resounded + the indignant voice of his wife. + </p> + <p> + The Vallins were at table, slowly eating slices of bread which they + parsimoniously spread with a little rancid butter on a plate between the + two. + </p> + <p> + M. d'Hubieres recommenced his proposals, but with more insinuations, more + oratorical precautions, more shrewdness. + </p> + <p> + The two country people shook their heads, in sign of refusal, but when + they learned that they were to have a hundred francs a month, they + considered the matter, consulting one another by glances, much disturbed. + They kept silent for a long time, tortured, hesitating. At last the woman + asked: “What do you say to it, man?” In a weighty tone he + said: “I say that it's not to be despised.” + </p> + <p> + Madame d'Hubieres, trembling with anguish, spoke of the future of their + child, of his happiness, and of the money which he could give them later. + </p> + <p> + The peasant asked: “This pension of twelve hundred francs, will it + be promised before a lawyer?” + </p> + <p> + M. d'Hubieres responded: “Why, certainly, beginning with to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + The woman, who was thinking it over, continued: + </p> + <p> + “A hundred francs a month is not enough to pay for depriving us of + the child. That child would be working in a few years; we must have a + hundred and twenty francs.” + </p> + <p> + Tapping her foot with impatience, Madame d'Hubieres granted it at once, + and, as she wished to carry off the child with her, she gave a hundred + francs extra, as a present, while her husband drew up a paper. And the + young woman, radiant, carried off the howling brat, as one carries away a + wished-for knick-knack from a shop. + </p> + <p> + The Tuvaches, from their door, watched her departure, silent, serious, + perhaps regretting their refusal. + </p> + <p> + Nothing more was heard of little Jean Vallin. The parents went to the + lawyer every month to collect their hundred and twenty francs. They had + quarrelled with their neighbors, because Mother Tuvache grossly insulted + them, continually, repeating from door to door that one must be unnatural + to sell one's child; that it was horrible, disgusting, bribery. Sometimes + she would take her Charlot in her arms, ostentatiously exclaiming, as if + he understood: + </p> + <p> + “I didn't sell you, I didn't! I didn't sell you, my little one! I'm + not rich, but I don't sell my children!” + </p> + <p> + The Vallins lived comfortably, thanks to the pension. That was the cause + of the unappeasable fury of the Tuvaches, who had remained miserably poor. + Their eldest went away to serve his time in the army; Charlot alone + remained to labor with his old father, to support the mother and two + younger sisters. + </p> + <p> + He had reached twenty-one years when, one morning, a brilliant carriage + stopped before the two cottages. A young gentleman, with a gold + watch-chain, got out, giving his hand to an aged, white-haired lady. The + old lady said to him: “It is there, my child, at the second house.” + And he entered the house of the Vallins as though at home. + </p> + <p> + The old mother was washing her aprons; the infirm father slumbered at the + chimney-corner. Both raised their heads, and the young man said: + </p> + <p> + “Good-morning, papa; good-morning, mamma!” + </p> + <p> + They both stood up, frightened! In a flutter, the peasant woman dropped + her soap into the water, and stammered: + </p> + <p> + “Is it you, my child? Is it you, my child?” + </p> + <p> + He took her in his arms and hugged her, repeating: “Good-morning, + mamma,” while the old man, all a-tremble, said, in his calm tone + which he never lost: “Here you are, back again, Jean,” as if + he had just seen him a month ago. + </p> + <p> + When they had got to know one another again, the parents wished to take + their boy out in the neighborhood, and show him. They took him to the + mayor, to the deputy, to the cure, and to the schoolmaster. + </p> + <p> + Charlot, standing on the threshold of his cottage, watched him pass. In + the evening, at supper, he said to the old people: “You must have + been stupid to let the Vallins' boy be taken.” + </p> + <p> + The mother answered, obstinately: “I wouldn't sell my child.” + </p> + <p> + The father remained silent. The son continued: + </p> + <p> + “It is unfortunate to be sacrificed like that.” + </p> + <p> + Then Father Tuvache, in an angry tone, said: + </p> + <p> + “Are you going to reproach us for having kept you?” And the + young man said, brutally: + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I reproach you for having been such fools. Parents like you + make the misfortune of their children. You deserve that I should leave + you.” The old woman wept over her plate. She moaned, as she + swallowed the spoonfuls of soup, half of which she spilled: “One may + kill one's self to bring up children!” + </p> + <p> + Then the boy said, roughly: “I'd rather not have been born than be + what I am. When I saw the other, my heart stood still. I said to myself: + 'See what I should have been now!'” He got up: “See here, I + feel that I would do better not to stay here, because I would throw it up + to you from morning till night, and I would make your life miserable. I'll + never forgive you for that!” + </p> + <p> + The two old people were silent, downcast, in tears. + </p> + <p> + He continued: “No, the thought of that would be too much. I'd rather + look for a living somewhere else.” + </p> + <p> + He opened the door. A sound of voices came in at the door. The Vallins + were celebrating the return of their child. + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0138"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + COWARD + </h2> + <p> + In society he was called “Handsome Signoles.” His name was + Vicomte Gontran-Joseph de Signoles. + </p> + <p> + An orphan, and possessed of an ample fortune, he cut quite a dash, as it + is called. He had an attractive appearance and manner, could talk well, + had a certain inborn elegance, an air of pride and nobility, a good + mustache, and a tender eye, that always finds favor with women. + </p> + <p> + He was in great request at receptions, waltzed to perfection, and was + regarded by his own sex with that smiling hostility accorded to the + popular society man. He had been suspected of more than one love affair, + calculated to enhance the reputation of a bachelor. He lived a happy, + peaceful life—a life of physical and mental well-being. He had won + considerable fame as a swordsman, and still more as a marksman. + </p> + <p> + “When the time comes for me to fight a duel,” he said, “I + shall choose pistols. With such a weapon I am sure to kill my man.” + </p> + <p> + One evening, having accompanied two women friends of his with their + husbands to the theatre, he invited them to take some ice cream at + Tortoni's after the performance. They had been seated a few minutes in the + restaurant when Signoles noticed that a man was staring persistently at + one of the ladies. She seemed annoyed, and lowered her eyes. At last she + said to her husband: + </p> + <p> + “There's a man over there looking at me. I don't know him; do you?” + </p> + <p> + The husband, who had noticed nothing, glanced across at the offender, and + said: + </p> + <p> + “No; not in the least.” + </p> + <p> + His wife continued, half smiling, half angry: + </p> + <p> + “It's very tiresome! He quite spoils my ice cream.” + </p> + <p> + The husband shrugged his shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense! Don't take any notice of him. If we were to bother our + heads about all the ill-mannered people we should have no time for + anything else.” + </p> + <p> + But the vicomte abruptly left his seat. He could not allow this insolent + fellow to spoil an ice for a guest of his. It was for him to take + cognizance of the offence, since it was through him that his friends had + come to the restaurant. He went across to the man and said: + </p> + <p> + “Sir, you are staring at those ladies in a manner I cannot permit. I + must ask you to desist from your rudeness.” + </p> + <p> + The other replied: + </p> + <p> + “Let me alone, will you!” + </p> + <p> + “Take care, sir,” said the vicomte between his teeth, “or + you will force me to extreme measures.” + </p> + <p> + The man replied with a single word—a foul word, which could be heard + from one end of the restaurant to the other, and which startled every one + there. All those whose backs were toward the two disputants turned round; + all the others raised their heads; three waiters spun round on their heels + like tops; the two lady cashiers jumped, as if shot, then turned their + bodies simultaneously, like two automata worked by the same spring. + </p> + <p> + There was dead silence. Then suddenly a sharp, crisp sound. The vicomte + had slapped his adversary's face. Every one rose to interfere. Cards were + exchanged. + </p> + <p> + When the vicomte reached home he walked rapidly up and down his room for + some minutes. He was in a state of too great agitation to think + connectedly. One idea alone possessed him: a duel. But this idea aroused + in him as yet no emotion of any kind. He had done what he was bound to do; + he had proved himself to be what he ought to be. He would be talked about, + approved, congratulated. He repeated aloud, speaking as one does when + under the stress of great mental disturbance: + </p> + <p> + “What a brute of a man!” Then he sat down, and began to + reflect. He would have to find seconds as soon as morning came. Whom + should he choose? He bethought himself of the most influential and + best-known men of his acquaintance. His choice fell at last on the Marquis + de la Tour-Noire and Colonel Bourdin-a nobleman and a soldier. That would + be just the thing. Their names would carry weight in the newspapers. He + was thirsty, and drank three glasses of water, one after another; then he + walked up and down again. If he showed himself brave, determined, prepared + to face a duel in deadly earnest, his adversary would probably draw back + and proffer excuses. He picked up the card he had taken from his pocket + and thrown on a table. He read it again, as he had already read it, first + at a glance in the restaurant, and afterward on the way home in the light + of each gas lamp: “Georges Lamil, 51 Rue Moncey.” That was + all. + </p> + <p> + He examined closely this collection of letters, which seemed to him + mysterious, fraught with many meanings. Georges Lamil! Who was the man? + What was his profession? Why had he stared so at the woman? Was it not + monstrous that a stranger, an unknown, should thus all at once upset one's + whole life, simply because it had pleased him to stare rudely at a woman? + And the vicomte once more repeated aloud: + </p> + <p> + “What a brute!” + </p> + <p> + Then he stood motionless, thinking, his eyes still fixed on the card. + Anger rose in his heart against this scrap of paper—a resentful + anger, mingled with a strange sense of uneasiness. It was a stupid + business altogether! He took up a penknife which lay open within reach, + and deliberately stuck it into the middle of the printed name, as if he + were stabbing some one. + </p> + <p> + So he would have to fight! Should he choose swords or pistols?—for + he considered himself as the insulted party. With the sword he would risk + less, but with the pistol there was some chance of his adversary backing + out. A duel with swords is rarely fatal, since mutual prudence prevents + the combatants from fighting close enough to each other for a point to + enter very deep. With pistols he would seriously risk his life; but, on + the other hand, he might come out of the affair with flying colors, and + without a duel, after all. + </p> + <p> + “I must be firm,” he said. “The fellow will be afraid.” + </p> + <p> + The sound of his own voice startled him, and he looked nervously round the + room. He felt unstrung. He drank another glass of water, and then began + undressing, preparatory to going to bed. + </p> + <p> + As soon as he was in bed he blew out the light and shut his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “I have all day to-morrow,” he reflected, “for setting + my affairs in order. I must sleep now, in order to be calm when the time + comes.” + </p> + <p> + He was very warm in bed, but he could not succeed in losing consciousness. + He tossed and turned, remained for five minutes lying on his back, then + changed to his left side, then rolled over to his right. He was thirsty + again, and rose to drink. Then a qualm seized him: + </p> + <p> + “Can it be possible that I am afraid?” + </p> + <p> + Why did his heart beat so uncontrollably at every well-known sound in his + room? When the clock was about to strike, the prefatory grating of its + spring made him start, and for several seconds he panted for breath, so + unnerved was he. + </p> + <p> + He began to reason with himself on the possibility of such a thing: + “Could I by any chance be afraid?” + </p> + <p> + No, indeed; he could not be afraid, since he was resolved to proceed to + the last extremity, since he was irrevocably determined to fight without + flinching. And yet he was so perturbed in mind and body that he asked + himself: + </p> + <p> + “Is it possible to be afraid in spite of one's self?” + </p> + <p> + And this doubt, this fearful question, took possession of him. If an + irresistible power, stronger than his own will, were to quell his courage, + what would happen? He would certainly go to the place appointed; his will + would force him that far. But supposing, when there, he were to tremble or + faint? And he thought of his social standing, his reputation, his name. + </p> + <p> + And he suddenly determined to get up and look at himself in the glass. He + lighted his candle. When he saw his face reflected in the mirror he + scarcely recognized it. He seemed to see before him a man whom he did not + know. His eyes looked disproportionately large, and he was very pale. + </p> + <p> + He remained standing before the mirror. He put out his tongue, as if to + examine the state of his health, and all at once the thought flashed into + his mind: + </p> + <p> + “At this time the day after to-morrow I may be dead.” + </p> + <p> + And his heart throbbed painfully. + </p> + <p> + “At this time the day after to-morrow I may be dead. This person in + front of me, this 'I' whom I see in the glass, will perhaps be no more. + What! Here I am, I look at myself, I feel myself to be alive—and yet + in twenty-four hours I may be lying on that bed, with closed eyes, dead, + cold, inanimate.” + </p> + <p> + He turned round, and could see himself distinctly lying on his back on the + couch he had just quitted. He had the hollow face and the limp hands of + death. + </p> + <p> + Then he became afraid of his bed, and to avoid seeing it went to his + smoking-room. He mechanically took a cigar, lighted it, and began walking + back and forth. He was cold; he took a step toward the bell, to wake his + valet, but stopped with hand raised toward the bell rope. + </p> + <p> + “He would see that I am afraid!” + </p> + <p> + And, instead of ringing, he made a fire himself. His hands quivered + nervously as they touched various objects. His head grew dizzy, his + thoughts confused, disjointed, painful; a numbness seized his spirit, as + if he had been drinking. + </p> + <p> + And all the time he kept on saying: + </p> + <p> + “What shall I do? What will become of me?” + </p> + <p> + His whole body trembled spasmodically; he rose, and, going to the window, + drew back the curtains. + </p> + <p> + The day—a summer day-was breaking. The pink sky cast a glow on the + city, its roofs, and its walls. A flush of light enveloped the awakened + world, like a caress from the rising sun, and the glimmer of dawn kindled + new hope in the breast of the vicomte. What a fool he was to let himself + succumb to fear before anything was decided—before his seconds had + interviewed those of Georges Lamil, before he even knew whether he would + have to fight or not! + </p> + <p> + He bathed, dressed, and left the house with a firm step. + </p> + <p> + He repeated as he went: + </p> + <p> + “I must be firm—very firm. I must show that I am not afraid.” + </p> + <p> + His seconds, the marquis and the colonel, placed themselves at his + disposal, and, having shaken him warmly by the hand, began to discuss + details. + </p> + <p> + “You want a serious duel?” asked the colonel. + </p> + <p> + “Yes—quite serious,” replied the vicomte. + </p> + <p> + “You insist on pistols?” put in the marquis. + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you leave all the other arrangements in our hands?” + </p> + <p> + With a dry, jerky voice the vicomte answered: + </p> + <p> + “Twenty paces—at a given signal—the arm to be raised, + not lowered—shots to be exchanged until one or other is seriously + wounded.” + </p> + <p> + “Excellent conditions,” declared the colonel in a satisfied + tone. “You are a good shot; all the chances are in your favor.” + </p> + <p> + And they parted. The vicomte returned home to wait for them. His + agitation, only temporarily allayed, now increased momentarily. He felt, + in arms, legs and chest, a sort of trembling—a continuous vibration; + he could not stay still, either sitting or standing. His mouth was + parched, and he made every now and then a clicking movement of the tongue, + as if to detach it from his palate. + </p> + <p> + He attempted, to take luncheon, but could not eat. Then it occurred to him + to seek courage in drink, and he sent for a decanter of rum, of which he + swallowed, one after another, six small glasses. + </p> + <p> + A burning warmth, followed by a deadening of the mental faculties, ensued. + He said to himself: + </p> + <p> + “I know how to manage. Now it will be all right!” + </p> + <p> + But at the end of an hour he had emptied the decanter, and his agitation + was worse than ever. A mad longing possessed him to throw himself on the + ground, to bite, to scream. Night fell. + </p> + <p> + A ring at the bell so unnerved him that he had not the strength to rise to + receive his seconds. + </p> + <p> + He dared not even to speak to them, wish them good-day, utter a single + word, lest his changed voice should betray him. + </p> + <p> + “All is arranged as you wished,” said the colonel. “Your + adversary claimed at first the privilege of the offended part; but he + yielded almost at once, and accepted your conditions. His seconds are two + military men.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you,” said the vicomte. + </p> + <p> + The marquis added: + </p> + <p> + “Please excuse us if we do not stay now, for we have a good deal to + see to yet. We shall want a reliable doctor, since the duel is not to end + until a serious wound has been inflicted; and you know that bullets are + not to be trifled with. We must select a spot near some house to which the + wounded party can be carried if necessary. In fact, the arrangements will + take us another two or three hours at least.” + </p> + <p> + The vicomte articulated for the second time: + </p> + <p> + “Thank you.” + </p> + <p> + “You're all right?” asked the colonel. “Quite calm?” + </p> + <p> + “Perfectly calm, thank you.” + </p> + <p> + The two men withdrew. + </p> + <p> + When he was once more alone he felt as though he should go mad. His + servant having lighted the lamps, he sat down at his table to write some + letters. When he had traced at the top of a sheet of paper the words: + “This is my last will and testament,” he started from his + seat, feeling himself incapable of connected thought, of decision in + regard to anything. + </p> + <p> + So he was going to fight! He could no longer avoid it. What, then, + possessed him? He wished to fight, he was fully determined to fight, and + yet, in spite of all his mental effort, in spite of the exertion of all + his will power, he felt that he could not even preserve the strength + necessary to carry him through the ordeal. He tried to conjure up a + picture of the duel, his own attitude, and that of his enemy. + </p> + <p> + Every now and then his teeth chattered audibly. He thought he would read, + and took down Chateauvillard's Rules of Dueling. Then he said: + </p> + <p> + “Is the other man practiced in the use of the pistol? Is he well + known? How can I find out?” + </p> + <p> + He remembered Baron de Vaux's book on marksmen, and searched it from end + to end. Georges Lamil was not mentioned. And yet, if he were not an adept, + would he have accepted without demur such a dangerous weapon and such + deadly conditions? + </p> + <p> + He opened a case of Gastinne Renettes which stood on a small table, and + took from it a pistol. Next he stood in the correct attitude for firing, + and raised his arm. But he was trembling from head to foot, and the weapon + shook in his grasp. + </p> + <p> + Then he said to himself: + </p> + <p> + “It is impossible. I cannot fight like this.” + </p> + <p> + He looked at the little black, death-spitting hole at the end of the + pistol; he thought of dishonor, of the whispers at the clubs, the smiles + in his friends' drawing-rooms, the contempt of women, the veiled sneers of + the newspapers, the insults that would be hurled at him by cowards. + </p> + <p> + He still looked at the weapon, and raising the hammer, saw the glitter of + the priming below it. The pistol had been left loaded by some chance, some + oversight. And the discovery rejoiced him, he knew not why. + </p> + <p> + If he did not maintain, in presence of his opponent, the steadfast bearing + which was so necessary to his honor, he would be ruined forever. He would + be branded, stigmatized as a coward, hounded out of society! And he felt, + he knew, that he could not maintain that calm, unmoved demeanor. And yet + he was brave, since the thought that followed was not even rounded to a + finish in his mind; but, opening his mouth wide, he suddenly plunged the + barrel of the pistol as far back as his throat, and pressed the trigger. + </p> + <p> + When the valet, alarmed at the report, rushed into the room he found his + master lying dead upon his back. A spurt of blood had splashed the white + paper on the table, and had made a great crimson stain beneath the words: + </p> + <p> + “This is my last will and testament.” + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0139"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + OLD MONGILET + </h2> + <p> + In the office old Mongilet was considered a type. He was a good old + employee, who had never been outside Paris but once in his life. + </p> + <p> + It was the end of July, and each of us, every Sunday, went to roll in the + grass, or soak in the water in the country near by. Asnieres, Argenteuil, + Chatou, Borgival, Maisons, Poissy, had their habitues and their ardent + admirers. We argued about the merits and advantages of all these places, + celebrated and delightful to all Parsian employees. + </p> + <p> + Daddy Mongilet declared: + </p> + <p> + “You are like a lot of sheep! It must be pretty, this country you + talk of!” + </p> + <p> + “Well, how about you, Mongilet? Don't you ever go on an excursion?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, indeed. I go in an omnibus. When I have had a good luncheon, + without any hurry, at the wine shop down there, I look up my route with a + plan of Paris, and the time table of the lines and connections. And then I + climb up on the box, open my umbrella and off we go. Oh, I see lots of + things, more than you, I bet! I change my surroundings. It is as though I + were taking a journey across the world, the people are so different in one + street and another. I know my Paris better than anyone. And then, there is + nothing more amusing than the entresols. You would not believe what one + sees in there at a glance. One guesses at domestic scenes simply at sight + of the face of a man who is roaring; one is amused on passing by a + barber's shop, to see the barber leave his customer whose face is covered + with lather to look out in the street. One exchanges heartfelt glances + with the milliners just for fun, as one has no time to alight. Ah, how + many things one sees! + </p> + <p> + “It is the drama, the real, the true, the drama of nature, seen as + the horses trot by. Heavens! I would not give my excursions in the omnibus + for all your stupid excursions in the woods.” + </p> + <p> + “Come and try it, Mongilet, come to the country once just to see.” + </p> + <p> + “I was there once,” he replied, “twenty years ago, and + you will never catch me there again.” + </p> + <p> + “Tell us about it, Mongilet.” + </p> + <p> + “If you wish to hear it. This is how it was: + </p> + <p> + “You knew Boivin, the old editorial clerk, whom we called Boileau?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, perfectly.” + </p> + <p> + “He was my office chum. The rascal had a house at Colombes and + always invited me to spend Sunday with him. He would say: + </p> + <p> + “'Come along, Maculotte [he called me Maculotte for fun]. You will + see what a nice excursion we will take.' + </p> + <p> + “I let myself be entrapped like an animal, and set out, one morning + by the 8 o'clock train. I arrived at a kind of town, a country town where + there is nothing to see, and I at length found my way to an old wooden + door with an iron bell, at the end of an alley between two walls. + </p> + <p> + “I rang, and waited a long time, and at last the door was opened. + What was it that opened it? I could not tell at the first glance. A woman + or an ape? The creature was old, ugly, covered with old clothes that + looked dirty and wicked. It had chicken's feathers in its hair and looked + as though it would devour me. + </p> + <p> + “'What do you want?' she said. + </p> + <p> + “'Mr. Boivin.' + </p> + <p> + “'What do you want of him, of Mr. Boivin?' + </p> + <p> + “I felt ill at ease on being questioned by this fury. I stammered: + 'Why-he expects me.' + </p> + <p> + “'Ah, it is you who have come to luncheon?' + </p> + <p> + “'Yes,' I stammered, trembling. + </p> + <p> + “Then, turning toward the house, she cried in an angry tone: + </p> + <p> + “'Boivin, here is your man!' + </p> + <p> + “It was my friend's wife. Little Boivin appeared immediately on the + threshold of a sort of barrack of plaster covered with zinc, that looked + like a foot stove. He wore white duck trousers covered with stains and a + dirty Panama hat. + </p> + <p> + “After shaking my hands warmly, he took me into what he called his + garden. It was at the end of another alleyway enclosed by high walls and + was a little square the size of a pocket handkerchief, surrounded by + houses that were so high that the sun, could reach it only two or three + hours in the day. Pansies, pinks, wallflowers and a few rose bushes were + languishing in this well without air, and hot as an oven from the + refraction of heat from the roofs. + </p> + <p> + “'I have no trees,' said Boivin, 'but the neighbors' walls take + their place. I have as much shade as in a wood.' + </p> + <p> + “Then he took hold of a button of my coat and said in a low tone: + </p> + <p> + “'You can do me a service. You saw the wife. She is not agreeable, + eh? To-day, as I had invited you, she gave me clean clothes; but if I spot + them all is lost. I counted on you to water my plants.' + </p> + <p> + “I agreed. I took off my coat, rolled up my sleeves, and began to + work the handle of a kind of pump that wheezed, puffed and rattled like a + consumptive as it emitted a thread of water like a Wallace drinking + fountain. It took me ten minutes to water it and I was in a bath of + perspiration. Boivin directed me: + </p> + <p> + “'Here—this plant—a little more; enough—now this + one.' + </p> + <p> + “The watering pot leaked and my feet got more water than the + flowers. The bottoms of my trousers were soaking and covered with mud. And + twenty times running I kept it up, soaking my feet afresh each time, and + perspiring anew as I worked the handle of the pump. And when I was tired + out and wanted to stop, Boivin, in a tone of entreaty, said as he put his + hand on my arm: + </p> + <p> + “Just one more watering pot full—just one, and that will be + all.' + </p> + <p> + “To thank me he gave me a rose, a big rose, but hardly had it + touched my button-hole than it fell to pieces, leaving only a hard little + green knot as a decoration. I was surprised, but said nothing. + </p> + <p> + “Mme. Boivin's voice was heard in the distance: + </p> + <p> + “'Are you ever coming? When you know that luncheon is ready!' + </p> + <p> + “We went toward the foot stove. If the garden was in the shade, the + house, on the other hand, was in the blazing sun, and the sweating room in + the Turkish bath is not as hot as was my friend's dining room. + </p> + <p> + “Three plates at the side of which were some half-washed forks, were + placed on a table of yellow wood in the middle of which stood an + earthenware dish containing boiled beef and potatoes. We began to eat. + </p> + <p> + “A large water bottle full of water lightly colored with wine + attracted my attention. Boivin, embarrassed, said to his wife: + </p> + <p> + “'See here, my dear, just on a special occasion, are you not going + to give us some plain wine?' + </p> + <p> + “She looked at him furiously. + </p> + <p> + “'So that you may both get tipsy, is that it, and stay here gabbing + all day? A fig for your special occasion!' + </p> + <p> + “He said no more. After the stew she brought in another dish of + potatoes cooked with bacon. When this dish was finished, still in silence, + she announced: + </p> + <p> + “'That is all! Now get out!' + </p> + <p> + “Boivin looked at her in astonishment. + </p> + <p> + “'But the pigeon—the pigeon you plucked this morning?' + </p> + <p> + “She put her hands on her hips: + </p> + <p> + “'Perhaps you have not had enough? Because you bring people here is + no reason why we should devour all that there is in the house. What is + there for me to eat this evening?' + </p> + <p> + “We rose. Solvin whispered + </p> + <p> + “'Wait for me a second, and we will skip.' + </p> + <p> + “He went into the kitchen where his wife had gone, and I overheard + him say: + </p> + <p> + “'Give me twenty sous, my dear.' + </p> + <p> + “'What do you want with twenty sons?' + </p> + <p> + “'Why, one does not know what may happen. It is always better to + have some money.' + </p> + <p> + “She yelled so that I should hear: + </p> + <p> + “'No, I will not give it to you! As the man has had luncheon here, + the least he can do is to pay your expenses for the day.' + </p> + <p> + “Boivin came back to fetch me. As I wished to be polite I bowed to + the mistress of the house, stammering: + </p> + <p> + “'Madame—many thanks—kind welcome.' + </p> + <p> + “'That's all right,' she replied. 'But do not bring him back drunk, + for you will have to answer to me, you know!' + </p> + <p> + “We set out. We had to cross a perfectly bare plain under the + burning sun. I attempted to gather a flower along the road and gave a cry + of pain. It had hurt my hand frightfully. They call these plants nettles. + And, everywhere, there was a smell of manure, enough to turn your stomach. + </p> + <p> + “Boivin said, 'Have a little patience and we will reach the river + bank.' + </p> + <p> + “We reached the river. Here there was an odor of mud and dirty + water, and the sun blazed down on the water so that it burned my eyes. I + begged Boivin to go under cover somewhere. He took me into a kind of + shanty filled with men, a river boatmen's tavern. + </p> + <p> + “He said: + </p> + <p> + “'This does not look very grand, but it is very comfortable.' + </p> + <p> + “I was hungry. I ordered an omelet. But to and behold, at the second + glass of wine, that beggar, Boivin, lost his head, and I understand why + his wife gave him water diluted. + </p> + <p> + “He got up, declaimed, wanted to show his strength, interfered in a + quarrel between two drunken men who were fighting, and, but for the + landlord, who came to the rescue, we should both have been killed. + </p> + <p> + “I dragged him away, holding him up until we reached the first bush + where I deposited him. I lay down beside him and, it seems, I fell asleep. + We must certainly have slept a long time, for it was dark when I awoke. + Boivin was snoring at my side. I shook him; he rose but he was still + drunk, though a little less so. + </p> + <p> + “We set out through the darkness across the plain. Boivin said he + knew the way. He made me turn to the left, then to the right, then to the + left. We could see neither sky nor earth, and found ourselves lost in the + midst of a kind of forest of wooden stakes, that came as high as our + noses. It was a vineyard and these were the supports. There was not a + single light on the horizon. We wandered about in this vineyard for about + an hour or two, hesitating, reaching out our arms without finding any + limit, for we kept retracing our steps. + </p> + <p> + “At length Boivin fell against a stake that tore his cheek and he + remained in a sitting posture on the ground, uttering with all his might + long and resounding hallos, while I screamed 'Help! Help!' as loud as I + could, lighting candle-matches to show the way to our rescuers, and also + to keep up my courage. + </p> + <p> + “At last a belated peasant heard us and put us on our right road. I + took Boivin to his home, but as I was leaving him on the threshold of his + garden, the door opened suddenly and his wife appeared, a candle in her + hand. She frightened me horribly. + </p> + <p> + “As soon as she saw her husband, whom she must have been waiting for + since dark, she screamed, as she darted toward me: + </p> + <p> + “'Ah, scoundrel, I knew you would bring him back drunk!' + </p> + <p> + “My, how I made my escape, running all the way to the station, and + as I thought the fury was pursuing me I shut myself in an inner room as + the train was not due for half an hour. + </p> + <p> + “That is why I never married, and why I never go out of Paris.” + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0140"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + MOONLIGHT + </h2> + <p> + Madame Julie Roubere was expecting her elder sister, Madame Henriette + Letore, who had just returned from a trip to Switzerland. + </p> + <p> + The Letore household had left nearly five weeks before. Madame Henriette + had allowed her husband to return alone to their estate in Calvados, where + some business required his attention, and had come to spend a few days in + Paris with her sister. Night came on. In the quiet parlor Madame Roubere + was reading in the twilight in an absent-minded way, raising her, eyes + whenever she heard a sound. + </p> + <p> + At last, she heard a ring at the door, and her sister appeared, wrapped in + a travelling cloak. And without any formal greeting, they clasped each + other in an affectionate embrace, only desisting for a moment to give each + other another hug. Then they talked about their health, about their + respective families, and a thousand other things, gossiping, jerking out + hurried, broken sentences as they followed each other about, while Madame + Henriette was removing her hat and veil. + </p> + <p> + It was now quite dark. Madame Roubere rang for a lamp, and as soon as it + was brought in, she scanned her sister's face, and was on the point of + embracing her once more. But she held back, scared and astonished at the + other's appearance. + </p> + <p> + On her temples Madame Letore had two large locks of white hair. All the + rest of her hair was of a glossy, raven-black hue; but there alone, at + each side of her head, ran, as it were, two silvery streams which were + immediately lost in the black mass surrounding them. She was, + nevertheless, only twenty-four years old, and this change had come on + suddenly since her departure for Switzerland. + </p> + <p> + Without moving, Madame Roubere gazed at her in amazement, tears rising to + her eyes, as she thought that some mysterious and terrible calamity must + have befallen her sister. She asked: + </p> + <p> + “What is the matter with you, Henriette?” + </p> + <p> + Smiling with a sad face, the smile of one who is heartsick, the other + replied: + </p> + <p> + “Why, nothing, I assure you. Were you noticing my white hair?” + </p> + <p> + But Madame Roubere impetuously seized her by the shoulders, and with a + searching glance at her, repeated: + </p> + <p> + “What is the matter with you? Tell me what is the matter with you. + And if you tell me a falsehood, I'll soon find it out.” + </p> + <p> + They remained face to face, and Madame Henriette, who looked as if she + were about to faint, had two pearly tears in the corners of her drooping + eyes. + </p> + <p> + Her sister continued: + </p> + <p> + “What has happened to you? What is the matter with you? Answer me!” + </p> + <p> + Then, in a subdued voice, the other murmured: + </p> + <p> + “I have—I have a lover.” + </p> + <p> + And, hiding her forehead on the shoulder of her younger sister, she + sobbed. + </p> + <p> + Then, when she had grown a little calmer, when the heaving of her breast + had subsided, she commenced to unbosom herself, as if to cast forth this + secret from herself, to empty this sorrow of hers into a sympathetic + heart. + </p> + <p> + Thereupon, holding each other's hands tightly clasped, the two women went + over to a sofa in a dark corner of the room, into which they sank, and the + younger sister, passing her arm over the elder one's neck, and drawing her + close to her heart, listened. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! I know that there was no excuse for me; I do not understand + myself, and since that day I feel as if I were mad. Be careful, my child, + about yourself—be careful! If you only knew how weak we are, how + quickly we yield, and fall. It takes so little, so little, so little, a + moment of tenderness, one of those sudden fits of melancholy which come + over you, one of those longings to open your arms, to love, to cherish + something, which we all have at certain moments. + </p> + <p> + “You know my husband, and you know how fond I am of him; but he is + mature and sensible, and cannot even comprehend the tender vibrations of a + woman's heart. He is always the same, always good, always smiling, always + kind, always perfect. Oh! how I sometimes have wished that he would clasp + me roughly in his arms, that he would embrace me with those slow, sweet + kisses which make two beings intermingle, which are like mute confidences! + How I have wished that he were foolish, even weak, so that he should have + need of me, of my caresses, of my tears! + </p> + <p> + “This all seems very silly; but we women are made like that. How can + we help it? + </p> + <p> + “And yet the thought of deceiving him never entered my mind. Now it + has happened, without love, without reason, without anything, simply + because the moon shone one night on the Lake of Lucerne. + </p> + <p> + “During the month when we were travelling together, my husband, with + his calm indifference, paralyzed my enthusiasm, extinguished my poetic + ardor. When we were descending the mountain paths at sunrise, when as the + four horses galloped along with the diligence, we saw, in the transparent + morning haze, valleys, woods, streams, and villages, I clasped my hands + with delight, and said to him: 'How beautiful it is, dear! Give me a kiss! + Kiss me now!' He only answered, with a smile of chilling kindliness: + 'There is no reason why we should kiss each other because you like the + landscape.' + </p> + <p> + “And his words froze me to the heart. It seems to me that when + people love each other, they ought to feel more moved by love than ever, + in the presence of beautiful scenes. + </p> + <p> + “In fact, I was brimming over with poetry which he kept me from + expressing. I was almost like a boiler filled with steam and hermetically + sealed. + </p> + <p> + “One evening (we had for four days been staying in a hotel at + Fluelen) Robert, having one of his sick headaches, went to bed immediately + after dinner, and I went to take a walk all alone along the edge of the + lake. + </p> + <p> + “It was a night such as one reads of in fairy tales. The full moon + showed itself in the middle of the sky; the tall mountains, with their + snowy crests, seemed to wear silver crowns; the waters of the lake + glittered with tiny shining ripples. The air was mild, with that kind of + penetrating warmth which enervates us till we are ready to faint, to be + deeply affected without any apparent cause. But how sensitive, how + vibrating the heart is at such moments! how quickly it beats, and how + intense is its emotion! + </p> + <p> + “I sat down on the grass, and gazed at that vast, melancholy, and + fascinating lake, and a strange feeling arose in me; I was seized with an + insatiable need of love, a revolt against the gloomy dullness of my life. + What! would it never be my fate to wander, arm in arm, with a man I loved, + along a moon-kissed bank like this? Was I never to feel on my lips those + kisses so deep, delicious, and intoxicating which lovers exchange on + nights that seem to have been made by God for tenderness? Was I never to + know ardent, feverish love in the moonlit shadows of a summer's night? + </p> + <p> + “And I burst out weeping like a crazy woman. I heard something + stirring behind me. A man stood there, gazing at me. When I turned my head + round, he recognized me, and, advancing, said: + </p> + <p> + “'You are weeping, madame?' + </p> + <p> + “It was a young barrister who was travelling with his mother, and + whom we had often met. His eyes had frequently followed me. + </p> + <p> + “I was so confused that I did not know what answer to give or what + to think of the situation. I told him I felt ill. + </p> + <p> + “He walked on by my side in a natural and respectful manner, and + began talking to me about what we had seen during our trip. All that I had + felt he translated into words; everything that made me thrill he + understood perfectly, better than I did myself. And all of a sudden he + repeated some verses of Alfred de Musset. I felt myself choking, seized + with indescribable emotion. It seemed to me that the mountains themselves, + the lake, the moonlight, were singing to me about things ineffably sweet. + </p> + <p> + “And it happened, I don't know how, I don't know why, in a sort of + hallucination. + </p> + <p> + “As for him, I did not see him again till the morning of his + departure. + </p> + <p> + “He gave me his card!” + </p> + <p> + And, sinking into her sister's arms, Madame Letore broke into groans + —almost into shrieks. + </p> + <p> + Then, Madame Roubere, with a self-contained and serious air, said very + gently: + </p> + <p> + “You see, sister, very often it is not a man that we love, but love + itself. And your real lover that night was the moonlight.” + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0141"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + THE FIRST SNOWFALL + </h2> + <p> + The long promenade of La Croisette winds in a curve along the edge of the + blue water. Yonder, to the right, Esterel juts out into the sea in the + distance, obstructing the view and shutting out the horizon with its + pretty southern outline of pointed summits, numerous and fantastic. + </p> + <p> + To the left, the isles of Sainte Marguerite and Saint Honorat, almost + level with the water, display their surface, covered with pine trees. + </p> + <p> + And all along the great gulf, all along the tall mountains that encircle + Cannes, the white villa residences seem to be sleeping in the sunlight. + You can see them from a distance, the white houses, scattered from the top + to the bottom of the mountains, dotting the dark greenery with specks like + snow. + </p> + <p> + Those near the water have gates opening on the wide promenade which is + washed by the quiet waves. The air is soft and balmy. It is one of those + warm winter days when there is scarcely a breath of cool air. Above the + walls of the gardens may be seen orange trees and lemon trees full of + golden fruit. Ladies are walking slowly across the sand of the avenue, + followed by children rolling hoops, or chatting with gentlemen. + </p> + <p> + A young woman has just passed out through the door of her coquettish + little house facing La Croisette. She stops for a moment to gaze at the + promenaders, smiles, and with an exhausted air makes her way toward an + empty bench facing the sea. Fatigued after having gone twenty paces, she + sits down out of breath. Her pale face seems that of a dead woman. She + coughs, and raises to her lips her transparent fingers as if to stop those + paroxysms that exhaust her. + </p> + <p> + She gazes at the sky full of sunshine and swallows, at the zigzag summits + of the Esterel over yonder, and at the sea, the blue, calm, beautiful sea, + close beside her. + </p> + <p> + She smiles again, and murmurs: + </p> + <p> + “Oh! how happy I am!” + </p> + <p> + She knows, however, that she is going to die, that she will never see the + springtime, that in a year, along the same promenade, these same people + who pass before her now will come again to breathe the warm air of this + charming spot, with their children a little bigger, with their hearts all + filled with hopes, with tenderness, with happiness, while at the bottom of + an oak coffin, the poor flesh which is still left to her to-day will have + decomposed, leaving only her bones lying in the silk robe which she has + selected for a shroud. + </p> + <p> + She will be no more. Everything in life will go on as before for others. + For her, life will be over, over forever. She will be no more. She smiles, + and inhales as well as she can, with her diseased lungs, the perfumed air + of the gardens. + </p> + <p> + And she sinks into a reverie. + </p> + <p> + She recalls the past. She had been married, four years ago, to a Norman + gentleman. He was a strong young man, bearded, healthy-looking, with wide + shoulders, narrow mind, and joyous disposition. + </p> + <p> + They had been united through financial motives which she knew nothing + about. She would willingly have said No. She said Yes, with a movement of + the head, in order not to thwart her father and mother. She was a + Parisian, gay, and full of the joy of living. + </p> + <p> + Her husband brought her home to his Norman chateau. It was a huge stone + building surrounded by tall trees of great age. A high clump of pine trees + shut out the view in front. On the right, an opening in the trees + presented a view of the plain, which stretched out in an unbroken level as + far as the distant, farmsteads. A cross-road passed before the gate and + led to the high road three kilometres away. + </p> + <p> + Oh! she recalls everything, her arrival, her first day in her new abode, + and her isolated life afterward. + </p> + <p> + When she stepped out of the carriage, she glanced at the old building, and + laughingly exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “It does not look cheerful!” + </p> + <p> + Her husband began to laugh in his turn, and replied: + </p> + <p> + “Pooh! we get used to it! You'll see. I never feel bored in it, for + my part.” + </p> + <p> + That day they passed their time in embracing each other, and she did not + find it too long. This lasted fully a month. The days passed one after the + other in insignificant yet absorbing occupations. She learned the value + and the importance of the little things of life. She knew that people can + interest themselves in the price of eggs, which cost a few centimes more + or less according to the seasons. + </p> + <p> + It was summer. She went to the fields to see the men harvesting. The + brightness of the sunshine found an echo in her heart. + </p> + <p> + The autumn came. Her husband went out shooting. He started in the morning + with his two dogs Medor and Mirza. She remained alone, without grieving, + moreover, at Henry's absence. She was very fond of him, but she did not + miss him. When he returned home, her affection was especially bestowed on + the dogs. She took care of them every evening with a mother's tenderness, + caressed them incessantly, gave them a thousand charming little names + which she had no idea of applying to her husband. + </p> + <p> + He invariably told her all about his sport. He described the places where + he found partridges, expressed his astonishment at not having caught any + hares in Joseph Ledentu's clever, or else appeared indignant at the + conduct of M. Lechapelier, of Havre, who always went along the edge of his + property to shoot the game that he, Henry de Parville, had started. + </p> + <p> + She replied: “Yes, indeed! it is not right,” thinking of + something else all the while. + </p> + <p> + The winter came, the Norman winter, cold and rainy. The endless floods of + rain came down on the slates of the great gabled roof, rising like a + knife blade toward the sky. The roads seemed like rivers of mud, the + country a plain of mud, and no sound could be heard save that of water + falling; no movement could be seen save the whirling flight of crows that + settled down like a cloud on a field and then hurried off again. + </p> + <p> + About four o'clock, the army of dark, flying creatures came and perched in + the tall beeches at the left of the chateau, emitting deafening cries. + During nearly an hour, they flew from tree top to tree top, seemed to be + fighting, croaked, and made a black disturbance in the gray branches. She + gazed at them each evening with a weight at her heart, so deeply was she + impressed by the lugubrious melancholy of the darkness falling on the + deserted country. + </p> + <p> + Then she rang for the lamp, and drew near the fire. She burned heaps of + wood without succeeding in warming the spacious apartments reeking with + humidity. She was cold all day long, everywhere, in the drawing-room, at + meals, in her own apartment. It seemed to her she was cold to the marrow + of her bones. Her husband only came in to dinner; he was always out + shooting, or else he was superintending sowing the seed, tilling the soil, + and all the work of the country. + </p> + <p> + He would come back jovial, and covered with mud, rubbing his hands as he + exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “What wretched weather!” + </p> + <p> + Or else: + </p> + <p> + “A fire looks comfortable!” + </p> + <p> + Or sometimes: + </p> + <p> + “Well, how are you to-day? Are you in good spirits?” + </p> + <p> + He was happy, in good health, without desires, thinking of nothing save + this simple, healthy, and quiet life. + </p> + <p> + About December, when the snow had come, she suffered so much from the + icy-cold air of the chateau which seemed to have become chilled in passing + through the centuries just as human beings become chilled with years, that + she asked her husband one evening: + </p> + <p> + “Look here, Henry! You ought to have a furnace put into the house; + it would dry the walls. I assure you that I cannot keep warm from morning + till night.” + </p> + <p> + At first he was stunned at this extravagant idea of introducing a furnace + into his manor-house. It would have seemed more natural to him to have his + dogs fed out of silver dishes. He gave a tremendous laugh from the bottom + of his chest as he exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “A furnace here! A furnace here! Ha! ha! ha! what a good joke!” + </p> + <p> + She persisted: + </p> + <p> + “I assure you, dear, I feel frozen; you don't feel it because you + are always moving about; but all the same, I feel frozen.” + </p> + <p> + He replied, still laughing: + </p> + <p> + “Pooh! you'll get used to it, and besides it is excellent for the + health. You will only be all the better for it. We are not Parisians, damn + it! to live in hot-houses. And, besides, the spring is quite near.” + </p> + <p> + About the beginning of January, a great misfortune befell her. Her father + and mother died in a carriage accident. She came to Paris for the funeral. + And her sorrow took entire possession of her mind for about six months. + </p> + <p> + The mildness of the beautiful summer days finally roused her, and she + lived along in a state of sad languor until autumn. + </p> + <p> + When the cold weather returned, she was brought face to face, for the + first time, with the gloomy future. What was she to do? Nothing. What was + going to happen to her henceforth? Nothing. What expectation, what hope, + could revive her heart? None. A doctor who was consulted declared that she + would never have children. + </p> + <p> + Sharper, more penetrating still than the year before, the cold made her + suffer continually. + </p> + <p> + She stretched out her shivering hands to the big flames. The glaring fire + burned her face; but icy whiffs seemed to glide down her back and to + penetrate between her skin and her underclothing. And she shivered from + head to foot. Innumerable draughts of air appeared to have taken up their + abode in the apartment, living, crafty currents of air as cruel as + enemies. She encountered them at every moment; they blew on her + incessantly their perfidious and frozen hatred, now on her face, now on + her hands, and now on her back. + </p> + <p> + Once more she spoke of a furnace; but her husband listened to her request + as if she were asking for the moon. The introduction of such an apparatus + at Parville appeared to him as impossible as the discovery of the + Philosopher's Stone. + </p> + <p> + Having been at Rouen on business one day, he brought back to his wife a + dainty foot warmer made of copper, which he laughingly called a “portable + furnace”; and he considered that this would prevent her henceforth + from ever being cold. + </p> + <p> + Toward the end of December she understood that she could not always live + like this, and she said timidly one evening at dinner: + </p> + <p> + “Listen, dear! Are we not going to spend a week or two in Paris + before spring:” + </p> + <p> + He was stupefied. + </p> + <p> + “In Paris? In Paris? But what are we to do there? Ah! no by Jove! We + are better off here. What odd ideas come into your head sometimes.” + </p> + <p> + She faltered: + </p> + <p> + “It might distract us a little.” + </p> + <p> + He did not understand. + </p> + <p> + “What is it you want to distract you? Theatres, evening parties, + dinners in town? You knew, however, when you came here, that you ought not + to expect any distractions of this kind!” + </p> + <p> + She saw a reproach in these words, and in the tone in which they were + uttered. She relapsed into silence. She was timid and gentle, without + resisting power and without strength of will. + </p> + <p> + In January the cold weather returned with violence. Then the snow covered + the earth. + </p> + <p> + One evening, as she watched the great black cloud of crows dispersing + among the trees, she began to weep, in spite of herself. + </p> + <p> + Her husband came in. He asked in great surprise: + </p> + <p> + “What is the matter with you?” + </p> + <p> + He was happy, quite happy, never having dreamed of another life or other + pleasures. He had been born and had grown up in this melancholy district. + He felt contented in his own house, at ease in body and mind. + </p> + <p> + He did not understand that one might desire incidents, have a longing for + changing pleasures; he did not understand that it does not seem natural to + certain beings to remain in the same place during the four seasons; he + seemed not to know that spring, summer, autumn, and winter have, for + multitudes of persons, fresh amusements in new places. + </p> + <p> + She could say nothing in reply, and she quickly dried her eyes. At last + she murmured in a despairing tone: + </p> + <p> + “I am—I—I am a little sad—I am a little bored.” + </p> + <p> + But she was terrified at having even said so much, and added very quickly: + </p> + <p> + “And, besides—I am—I am a little cold.” + </p> + <p> + This last plea made him angry. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! yes, still your idea of the furnace. But look here, deuce take + it! you have not had one cold since you came here.” + </p> + <p> + Night came on. She went up to her room, for she had insisted on having a + separate apartment. She went to bed. Even in bed she felt cold. She + thought: + </p> + <p> + “It will be always like this, always, until I die.” + </p> + <p> + And she thought of her husband. How could he have said: + </p> + <p> + “You—have not had one cold since you came here”? + </p> + <p> + She would have to be ill, to cough before he could understand what she + suffered! + </p> + <p> + And she was filled with indignation, the angry indignation of a weak, + timid being. + </p> + <p> + She must cough. Then, perhaps, he would take pity on her. Well, she would + cough; he should hear her coughing; the doctor should be called in; he + should see, her husband, he should see. + </p> + <p> + She got out of bed, her legs and her feet bare, and a childish idea made + her smile: + </p> + <p> + “I want a furnace, and I must have it. I shall cough so much that + he'll have to put one in the house.” + </p> + <p> + And she sat down in a chair in her nightdress. She waited an hour, two + hours. She shivered, but she did not catch cold. Then she resolved on a + bold expedient. + </p> + <p> + She noiselessly left her room, descended the stairs, and opened the gate + into the garden. + </p> + <p> + The earth, covered with snows seemed dead. She abruptly thrust forward her + bare foot, and plunged it into the icy, fleecy snow. A sensation of cold, + painful as a wound, mounted to her heart. However, she stretched out the + other leg, and began to descend the steps slowly. + </p> + <p> + Then she advanced through the grass saying to herself: + </p> + <p> + “I'll go as far as the pine trees.” + </p> + <p> + She walked with quick steps, out of breath, gasping every time she plunged + her foot into the snow. + </p> + <p> + She touched the first pine tree with her hand, as if to assure herself + that she had carried out her plan to the end; then she went back into the + house. She thought two or three times that she was going to fall, so + numbed and weak did she feel. Before going in, however, she sat down in + that icy fleece, and even took up several handfuls to rub on her chest. + </p> + <p> + Then she went in and got into bed. It seemed to her at the end of an hour + that she had a swarm of ants in her throat, and that other ants were + running all over her limbs. She slept, however. + </p> + <p> + Next day she was coughing and could not get up. + </p> + <p> + She had inflammation of the lungs. She became delirious, and in her + delirium she asked for a furnace. The doctor insisted on having one put + in. Henry yielded, but with visible annoyance. + </p> + <p> + She was incurable. Her lungs were seriously affected, and those about her + feared for her life. + </p> + <p> + “If she remains here, she will not last until the winter,” + said the doctor. + </p> + <p> + She was sent south. She came to Cannes, made the acquaintance of the sun, + loved the sea, and breathed the perfume of orange blossoms. + </p> + <p> + Then, in the spring, she returned north. + </p> + <p> + But she now lived with the fear of being cured, with the fear of the long + winters of Normandy; and as soon as she was better she opened her window + by night and recalled the sweet shores of the Mediterranean. + </p> + <p> + And now she is going to die. She knows it and she is happy. + </p> + <p> + She unfolds a newspaper which she has not already opened, and reads this + heading: + </p> + <p> + “The first snow in Paris.” + </p> + <p> + She shivers and then smiles. She looks across at the Esterel, which is + becoming rosy in the rays of the setting sun. She looks at the vast blue + sky, so blue, so very blue, and the vast blue sea, so very blue also, and + she rises from her seat. + </p> + <p> + And then she returned to the house with slow steps, only stopping to + cough, for she had remained out too long and she was cold, a little cold. + </p> + <p> + She finds a letter from her husband. She opens it, still smiling, and she + reads: + </p> +<div class='pre'> + “MY DEAR LOVE: I hope you are well, and that you do not regret too + much our beautiful country. For some days last we have had a good + frost, which presages snow. For my part, I adore this weather, and + you may believe that I do not light your damned furnace.” + </div> + <p> + She ceases reading, quite happy at the thought that she had her furnace + put in. Her right hand, which holds the letter, falls slowly on her lap, + while she raises her left hand to her mouth, as if to calm the obstinate + cough which is racking her chest. + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0142"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + SUNDAYS OF A BOURGEOIS + </h2> +<div class='pre'> + PREPARATIONS FOR THE EXCURSION +</div> + <p> + M. Patissot, born in Paris, after having failed in his examinations at the + College Henri IV., like many others, had entered the government service + through the influence of one of his aunts, who kept a tobacco store where + the head of one of the departments bought his provisions. + </p> + <p> + He advanced very slowly, and would, perhaps, have died a fourth-class + clerk without the aid of a kindly Providence, which sometimes watches over + our destiny. He is today fifty-two years old, and it is only at this age + that he is beginning to explore, as a tourist, all that part of France + which lies between the fortifications and the provinces. + </p> + <p> + The story of his advance might be useful to many employees, just as the + tale of his excursions may be of value to many Parisians who will take + them as a model for their own outings, and will thus, through his example, + avoid certain mishaps which occurred to him. + </p> + <p> + In 1854 he only enjoyed a salary of 1,800 francs. Through a peculiar trait + of his character he was unpopular with all his superiors, who let him + languish in the eternal and hopeless expectation of the clerk's ideal, an + increase of salary. Nevertheless he worked; but he did not know how to + make himself appreciated. He had too much self-respect, he claimed. His + self-respect consisted in never bowing to his superiors in a low and + servile manner, as did, according to him, certain of his colleagues, whom + he would not mention. He added that his frankness embarrassed many people, + for, like all the rest, he protested against injustice and the favoritism + shown to persons entirely foreign to the bureaucracy. But his indignant + voice never passed beyond the little cage where he worked. + </p> + <p> + First as a government clerk, then as a Frenchman and finally as a man who + believed in order he would adhere to whatever government was established, + having an unbounded reverence for authority, except for that of his + chiefs. + </p> + <p> + Each time that he got the chance he would place himself where he could see + the emperor pass, in order to have the honor of taking his hat off to him; + and he would go away puffed up with pride at having bowed to the head of + the state. + </p> + <p> + From his habit of observing the sovereign he did as many others do; he + imitated the way he trimmed his beard or arranged his hair, the cut of his + clothes, his walk, his mannerisms. Indeed, how many men in each country + seemed to be the living images of the head of the government! Perhaps he + vaguely resembled Napoleon III., but his hair was black; therefore he dyed + it, and then the likeness was complete; and when he met another gentleman + in the street also imitating the imperial countenance he was jealous and + looked at him disdainfully. This need of imitation soon became his hobby, + and, having heard an usher at the Tuilleries imitate the voice of the + emperor, he also acquired the same intonations and studied slowness. + </p> + <p> + He thus became so much like his model that they might easily have been + mistaken for each other, and certain high dignitaries were heard to remark + that they found it unseemly and even vulgar; the matter was mentioned to + the prime minister, who ordered that the employee should appear before + him. But at the sight of him he began to laugh and repeated two or three + times: “That's funny, really funny!” This was repeated, and + the following day Patissot's immediate superior recommended that his + subordinate receive an increase of salary of three hundred francs. He + received it immediately. + </p> + <p> + From that time on his promotions came regularly, thanks to his ape-like + faculty of imitation. The presentiment that some high honor might come to + him some day caused his chiefs to speak to him with deference. + </p> + <p> + When the Republic was proclaimed it was a disaster for him. He felt lost, + done for, and, losing his head, he stopped dyeing his hair, shaved his + face clean and had his hair cut short, thus acquiring a paternal and + benevolent expression which could not compromise him in any way. + </p> + <p> + Then his chiefs took revenge for the long time during which he had imposed + upon them, and, having all turned Republican through an instinct of self + preservation, they cut down his salary and delayed his promotion. He, too, + changed his opinions. But the Republic not being a palpable and living + person whom one can resemble, and the presidents succeeding each other + with rapidity, he found himself plunged in the greatest embarrassment, in + terrible distress, and, after an unsuccessful imitation of his last ideal, + M. Thiers, he felt a check put on all his attempts at imitation. He needed + a new manifestation of his personality. He searched for a long time; then, + one morning, he arrived at the office wearing a new hat which had on the + side a small red, white and blue rosette. His colleagues were astounded; + they laughed all that day, the next day, all the week, all the month. But + the seriousness of his demeanor at last disconcerted them, and once more + his superiors became anxious. What mystery could be hidden under this + sign? Was it a simple manifestation of patriotism, or an affirmation of + his allegiance to the Republic, or perhaps the badge of some powerful + association? But to wear it so persistently he must surely have some + powerful and hidden protection. It would be well to be on one's guard, + especially as he received all pleasantries with unruffled calmness. After + that he was treated with respect, and his sham courage saved him; he was + appointed head clerk on the first of January, 1880. His whole life had + been spent indoors. He hated noise and bustle, and because of this love of + rest and quiet he had remained a bachelor. He spent his Sundays reading + tales of adventure and ruling guide lines which he afterward offered to + his colleagues. In his whole existence he had only taken three vacations + of a week each, when he was changing his quarters. But sometimes, on a + holiday, he would leave by an excursion train for Dieppe or Havre in order + to elevate his mind by the inspiring sight of the sea. + </p> + <p> + He was full of that common sense which borders on stupidity. For a long + time he had been living quietly, with economy, temperate through prudence, + chaste by temperament, when suddenly he was assailed by a terrible + apprehension. One evening in the street he suddenly felt an attack of + dizziness which made him fear a stroke of apoplexy. He hastened to a + physician and for five francs obtained the following prescription: + </p> +<div class='pre'> + M. X-, fifty-five years old, bachelor, clerk. Full-blooded, + danger of apoplexy. Cold-water applications, moderate nourishment, + plenty of exercise. MONTELLIER, M.D. +</div> + <p> + Patissot was greatly distressed, and for a whole month, in his office, he + kept a wet towel wrapped around his head like a turban while the water + continually dripped on his work, which he would have to do over again. + Every once in a while he would read the prescription over, probably in the + hope of finding some hidden meaning, of penetrating into the secret + thought of the physician, and also of discovering some forms of exercise + which, might perhaps make him immune from apoplexy. + </p> + <p> + Then he consulted his friends, showing them the fateful paper. One advised + boxing. He immediately hunted up an instructor, and, on the first day, he + received a punch in the nose which immediately took away all his ambition + in this direction. Single-stick made him gasp for breath, and he grew so + stiff from fencing that for two days and two nights he could not get + sleep. Then a bright idea struck him. It was to walk, every Sunday, to + some suburb of Paris and even to certain places in the capital which he + did not know. + </p> + <p> + For a whole week his mind was occupied with thoughts of the equipment + which you need for these excursions; and on Sunday, the 30th of May, he + began his preparations. After reading all the extraordinary advertisements + which poor, blind and halt beggars distribute on the street corners, he + began to visit the stores with the intention of looking about him only and + of buying later on. First of all, he visited a so-called American shoe + store, where heavy travelling shoes were shown him. The clerk brought out + a kind of ironclad contrivance, studded with spikes like a harrow, which + he claimed to be made from Rocky Mountain bison skin. He was so carried + away with them that he would willingly have bought two pair, but one was + sufficient. He carried them away under his arm, which soon became numb + from the weight. He next invested in a pair of corduroy trousers, such as + carpenters wear, and a pair of oiled canvas leggings. Then he needed a + knapsack for his provisions, a telescope so as to recognize villages + perched on the slope of distant hills, and finally, a government survey + map to enable him to find his way about without asking the peasants + toiling in the fields. Lastly, in order more comfortably to stand the + heat, he decided to purchase a light alpaca jacket offered by the famous + firm of Raminau, according to their advertisement, for the modest sum of + six francs and fifty centimes. He went to this store and was welcomed by a + distinguished-looking young man with a marvellous head of hair, nails as + pink as those of a lady and a pleasant smile. He showed him the garment. + It did not correspond with the glowing style of the advertisement. Then + Patissot hesitatingly asked, “Well, monsieur, will it wear well?” + The young man turned his eyes away in well-feigned embarrassment, like an + honest man who does not wish to deceive a customer, and, lowering his + eyes, he said in a hesitating manner: “Dear me, monsieur, you + understand that for six francs fifty we cannot turn out an article like + this for instance.” And he showed him a much finer jacket than the + first one. Patissot examined it and asked the price. “Twelve francs + fifty.” It was very tempting, but before deciding, he once more + questioned the big young man, who was observing him attentively. “And—is + that good? Do you guarantee it?” “Oh! certainly, monsieur, it + is quite good! But, of course, you must not get it wet! Yes, it's really + quite good, but you understand that there are goods and goods. It's + excellent for the price. Twelve francs fifty, just think. Why, that's + nothing at all. Naturally a twenty-five-franc coat is much better. For + twenty-five francs you get a superior quality, as strong as linen, and + which wears even better. If it gets wet a little ironing will fix it right + up. The color never fades, and it does not turn red in the sunlight. It is + the warmest and lightest material out.” He unfolded his wares, + holding them up, shaking them, crumpling and stretching them in order to + show the excellent quality of the cloth. He talked on convincingly, + dispelling all hesitation by words and gesture. Patissot was convinced; he + bought the coat. The pleasant salesman, still talking, tied up the bundle + and continued praising the value of the purchase. When it was paid for he + was suddenly silent. He bowed with a superior air, and, holding the door + open, he watched his customer disappear, both arms filled with bundles and + vainly trying to reach his hat to bow. + </p> + <p> + M. Patissot returned home and carefully studied the map. He wished to try + on his shoes, which were more like skates than shoes, owing to the spikes. + He slipped and fell, promising himself to be more careful in the future. + Then he spread out all his purchases on a chair and looked at them for a + long time. He went to sleep with this thought: “Isn't it strange + that I didn't think before of taking an excursion to the country?” + </p> + <p> + During the whole week Patissot worked without ambition. He was dreaming of + the outing which he had planned for the following Sunday, and he was + seized by a sudden longing for the country, a desire of growing tender + over nature, this thirst for rustic scenes which overwhelms the Parisians + in spring time. + </p> + <p> + Only one person gave him any attention; it was a silent old copying clerk + named Boivin, nicknamed Boileau. He himself lived in the country and had a + little garden which he cultivated carefully; his needs were small, and he + was perfectly happy, so they said. Patissot was now able to understand his + tastes and the similarity of their ideals made them immediately fast + friends. Old man Boivin said to him: + </p> + <p> + “Do I like fishing, monsieur? Why, it's the delight of my life!” + </p> + <p> + Then Patissot questioned him with deep interest. Boivin named all the fish + who frolicked under this dirty water—and Patissot thought he could + see them. Boivin told about the different hooks, baits, spots and times + suitable for each kind. And Patissot felt himself more like a fisherman + than Boivin himself. They decided that the following Sunday they would + meet for the opening of the season for the edification of Patissot, who + was delighted to have found such an experienced instructor. + </p> +<div class='pre'> + FISHING EXCURSION +</div> + <p> + The day before the one when he was, for the first time in his life, to + throw a hook into a river, Monsieur Patissot bought, for eighty centimes, + “How to Become a Perfect Fisherman.” In this work he learned + many useful things, but he was especially impressed by the style, and he + retained the following passage: + </p> + <p> + “In a word, if you wish, without books, without rules, to fish + successfully, to the left or to the right, up or down stream, in the + masterly manner that halts at no difficulty, then fish before, during and + after a storm, when the clouds break and the sky is streaked with + lightning, when the earth shakes with the grumbling thunder; it is then + that, either through hunger or terror, all the fish forget their habits in + a turbulent flight. + </p> + <p> + “In this confusion follow or neglect all favorable signs, and just + go on fishing; you will march to victory!” + </p> + <p> + In order to catch fish of all sizes, he bought three well-perfected poles, + made to be used as a cane in the city, which, on the river, could be + transformed into a fishing rod by a simple jerk. He bought some number + fifteen hooks for gudgeon, number twelve for bream, and with his number + seven he expected to fill his basket with carp. He bought no earth worms + because he was sure of finding them everywhere; but he laid in a provision + of sand worms. He had a jar full of them, and in the evening he watched + them with interest. The hideous creatures swarmed in their bath of bran as + they do in putrid meat. Patissot wished to practice baiting his hook. He + took up one with disgust, but he had hardly placed the curved steel point + against it when it split open. Twenty times he repeated this without + success, and he might have continued all night had he not feared to + exhaust his supply of vermin. + </p> + <p> + He left by the first train. The station was full of people equipped with + fishing lines. Some, like Patissot's, looked like simple bamboo canes; + others, in one piece, pointed their slender ends to the skies. They looked + like a forest of slender sticks, which mingled and clashed like swords or + swayed like masts over an ocean of broad-brimmed straw hats. + </p> + <p> + When the train started fishing rods could be seen sticking out of all the + windows and doors, giving to the train the appearance of a huge, bristly + caterpillar winding through the fields. + </p> + <p> + Everybody got off at Courbevoie and rushed for the stage for Bezons. A + crowd of fishermen crowded on top of the coach, holding their rods in + their hands, giving the vehicle the appearance of a porcupine. + </p> + <p> + All along the road men were travelling in the same direction as though on + a pilgrimage to an unknown Jerusalem. They were carrying those long, + slender sticks resembling those carried by the faithful returning from + Palestine. A tin box on a strap was fastened to their backs. They were in + a hurry. + </p> + <p> + At Bezons the river appeared. People were lined along bath banks, men in + frock coats, others in duck suits, others in blouses, women, children and + even young girls of marriageable age; all were fishing. + </p> + <p> + Patissot started for the dam where his friend Boivin was waiting for him. + The latter greeted him rather coolly. He had just made the acquaintance of + a big, fat man of about fifty, who seemed very strong and whose skin was + tanned. All three hired a big boat and lay off almost under the fall of + the dam, where the fish are most plentiful. + </p> + <p> + Boivin was immediately ready. He baited his line and threw it out, and + then sat motionless, watching the little float with extraordinary + concentration. From time to time he would jerk his line out of the water + and cast it farther out. The fat gentleman threw out his well-baited + hooks, put his line down beside him, filled his pipe, lit it, crossed his + arms, and, without another glance at the cork, he watched the water flow + by. Patissot once more began trying to stick sand worms on his hooks. + After about five minutes of this occupation he called to Boivin; “Monsieur + Boivin, would you be so kind as to help me put these creatures on my hook? + Try as I will, I can't seem to succeed.” Boivin raised his head: + “Please don't disturb me, Monsieur Patissot; we are not here for + pleasure!” However, he baited the line, which Patissot then threw + out, carefully imitating all the motions of his friend. + </p> + <p> + The boat was tossing wildly, shaken by the waves, and spun round like a + top by the current, although anchored at both ends. Patissot, absorbed in + the sport, felt a vague kind of uneasiness; he was uncomfortably heavy and + somewhat dizzy. + </p> + <p> + They caught nothing. Little Boivin, very nervous, was gesticulating and + shaking his head in despair. Patissot was as sad as though some disaster + had overtaken him. The fat gentleman alone, still motionless, was quietly + smoking without paying any attention to his line. At last Patissot, + disgusted, turned toward him and said in a mournful voice: + </p> + <p> + “They are not biting, are they?” + </p> + <p> + He quietly replied: + </p> + <p> + “Of course not!” + </p> + <p> + Patissot surprised, looked at him. + </p> + <p> + “Do you ever catch many?” + </p> + <p> + “Never!” + </p> + <p> + “What! Never?” + </p> + <p> + The fat man, still smoking like a factory chimney, let out the following + words, which completely upset his neighbor: + </p> + <p> + “It would bother me a lot if they did bite. I don't come here to + fish; I come because I'm very comfortable here; I get shaken up as though + I were at sea. If I take a line along, it's only to do as others do.” + </p> + <p> + Monsieur Patissot, on the other hand, did not feel at all well. His + discomfort, at first vague, kept increasing, and finally took on a + definite form. He felt, indeed, as though he were being tossed by the sea, + and he was suffering from seasickness. After the first attack had calmed + down, he proposed leaving, but Boivin grew so furious that they almost + came to blows. The fat man, moved by pity, rowed the boat back, and, as + soon as Patissot had recovered from his seasickness, they bethought + themselves of luncheon. + </p> + <p> + Two restaurants presented themselves. One of them, very small, looked like + a beer garden, and was patronized by the poorer fishermen. The other one, + which bore the imposing name of “Linden Cottage,” looked like + a middle-class residence and was frequented by the aristocracy of the rod. + The two owners, born enemies, watched each other with hatred across a + large field, which separated them, and where the white house of the dam + keeper and of the inspector of the life-saving department stood out + against the green grass. Moreover, these two officials disagreed, one of + them upholding the beer garden and the other one defending the Elms, and + the internal feuds which arose in these three houses reproduced the whole + history of mankind. + </p> + <p> + Boivin, who knew the beer garden, wished to go there, exclaiming: “The + food is very good, and it isn't expensive; you'll see. Anyhow, Monsieur + Patissot, you needn't expect to get me tipsy the way you did last Sunday. + My wife was furious, you know; and she has sworn never to forgive you!” + </p> + <p> + The fat gentleman declared that he would only eat at the Elms, because it + was an excellent place and the cooking was as good as in the best + restaurants in Paris. + </p> + <p> + “Do as you wish,” declared Boivin; “I am going where I + am accustomed to go.” He left. Patissot, displeased at his friend's + actions, followed the fat gentleman. + </p> + <p> + They ate together, exchanged ideas, discussed opinions and found that they + were made for each other. + </p> + <p> + After the meal everyone started to fish again, but the two new friends + left together. Following along the banks, they stopped near the railroad + bridge and, still talking, they threw their lines in the water. The fish + still refused to bite, but Patissot was now making the best of it. + </p> + <p> + A family was approaching. The father, whose whiskers stamped him as a + judge, was holding an extraordinarily long rod; three boys of different + sizes were carrying poles of different lengths, according to age; and the + mother, who was very stout, gracefully manoeuvred a charming rod with a + ribbon tied to the handle. The father bowed and asked: + </p> + <p> + “Is this spot good, gentlemen?” Patissot was going to speak, + when his friend answered: “Fine!” The whole family smiled and + settled down beside the fishermen. The Patissot was seized with a wild + desire to catch a fish, just one, any kind, any size, in order to win the + consideration of these people; so he began to handle his rod as he had + seen Boivin do in the morning. He would let the cork follow the current to + the end of the line, jerk the hooks out of the water, make them describe a + large circle in the air and throw them out again a little higher up. He + had even, as he thought, caught the knack of doing this movement + gracefully. He had just jerked his line out rapidly when he felt it caught + in something behind him. He tugged, and a scream burst from behind him. He + perceived, caught on one of his hooks, and describing in the air a curve + like a meteor, a magnificent hat which he placed right in the middle of + the river. + </p> + <p> + He turned around, bewildered, dropping his pole, which followed the hat + down the stream, while the fat gentleman, his new friend, lay on his back + and roared with laughter. The lady, hatless and astounded, choked with + anger; her husband was outraged and demanded the price of the hat, and + Patissot paid about three times its value. + </p> + <p> + Then the family departed in a very dignified manner. + </p> + <p> + Patissot took another rod, and, until nightfall, he gave baths to sand + worms. His neighbor was sleeping peacefully on the grass. Toward seven in + the evening he awoke. + </p> + <p> + “Let's go away from here!” he said. + </p> + <p> + Then Patissot withdrew his line, gave a cry and sat down hard from + astonishment. At the end of the string was a tiny little fish. When they + looked at him more closely they found that he had been hooked through the + stomach; the hook had caught him as it was being drawn out of the water. + </p> + <p> + Patissot was filled with a boundless, triumphant joy; he wished to have + the fish fried for himself alone. + </p> + <p> + During the dinner the friends grew still more intimate. He learned that + the fat gentleman lived at Argenteuil and had been sailing boats for + thirty years without losing interest in the sport. He accepted to take + luncheon with him the following Sunday and to take a sail in his friend's + clipper, Plongeon. He became so interested in the conversation that he + forgot all about his catch. He did not remember it until after the coffee, + and he demanded that it be brought him. It was alone in the middle of a + platter, and looked like a yellow, twisted match, But he ate it with pride + and relish, and at night, on the omnibus, he told his neighbors that he + had caught fourteen pounds of fish during the day. + </p> +<div class='pre'> + TWO CELEBRITIES +</div> + <p> + Monsieur Patissot had promised his friend, the boating man, that he would + spend the following Sunday with him. An unforeseen occurrence changed his + plan. One evening, on the boulevard, he met one of his cousins whom he saw + but very seldom. He was a pleasant journalist, well received in all + classes of society, who offered to show Patissot many interesting things. + </p> + <p> + “What are you going to do next Sunday?” + </p> + <p> + “I'm going boating at Argenteuil.” + </p> + <p> + “Come on! Boating is an awful bore; there is no variety to it. + Listen —I'll take you along with me. I'll introduce you to two + celebrities. We will visit the homes of two artists.” + </p> + <p> + “But I have been ordered to go to the country!” + </p> + <p> + “That's just where we'll go. On the way we'll call on Meissonier, at + his place in Poissy; then we'll walk over to Medan, where Zola lives. I + have been commissioned to obtain his next novel for our newspaper.” + </p> + <p> + Patissot, wild with joy, accepted the invitation. He even bought a new + frock coat, as his own was too much worn to make a good appearance. He was + terribly afraid of saying something foolish either to the artist or to the + man of letters, as do people who speak of an art which they have never + professed. + </p> + <p> + He mentioned his fears to his cousin, who laughed and answered: “Pshaw! + Just pay them compliments, nothing but compliments, always compliments; in + that way, if you say anything foolish it will be overlooked. Do you know + Meissonier's paintings?” + </p> + <p> + “I should say I do.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you read the Rougon-Macquart series?” + </p> + <p> + “From first to last.” + </p> + <p> + “That's enough. Mention a painting from time to time, speak of a + novel here and there and add: + </p> + <p> + “'Superb! Extraordinary! Delightful technique! Wonderfully + powerful!' In that way you can always get along. I know that those two are + very blase about everything, but admiration always pleases an artist.” + </p> + <p> + Sunday morning they left for Poissy. + </p> + <p> + Just a few steps from the station, at the end of the church square, they + found Meissonier's property. After passing through a low door, painted + red, which led into a beautiful alley of vines, the journalist stopped + and, turning toward his companion, asked: + </p> + <p> + “What is your idea of Meissonier?” + </p> + <p> + Patissot hesitated. At last he decided: “A little man, well groomed, + clean shaven, a soldierly appearance.” The other smiled: “All + right, come along.” A quaint building in the form of a chalet + appeared to the left; and to the right side, almost opposite, was the main + house. It was a strange-looking building, where there was a mixture of + everything, a mingling of Gothic fortress, manor, villa, hut, residence, + cathedral, mosque, pyramid, a, weird combination of Eastern and Western + architecture. The style was complicated enough to set a classical + architect crazy, and yet there was something whimsical and pretty about + it. It had been invented and built under the direction of the artist. + </p> + <p> + They went in; a collection of trunks encumbered a little parlor. A little + man appeared, dressed in a jumper. The striking thing about him was his + beard. He bowed to the journalist, and said: “My dear sir, I hope + that you will excuse me; I only returned yesterday, and everything is all + upset here. Please be seated.” The other refused, excusing himself: + “My dear master, I only dropped in to pay my respects while passing + by.” Patissot, very much embarrassed, was bowing at every word of + his friend's, as though moving automatically, and he murmured, stammering: + “What a su—su—superb property!” The artist, + flattered, smiled, and suggested visiting it. + </p> + <p> + He led them first to a little pavilion of feudal aspect, where his former + studio was. Then they crossed a parlor, a dining-room, a vestibule full of + beautiful works of art, of beautiful Beauvais, Gobelin and Flanders + tapestries. But the strange external luxury of ornamentation became, + inside, a revel of immense stairways. A magnificent grand stairway, a + secret stairway in one tower, a servants' stairway in another, stairways + everywhere! Patissot, by chance, opened a door and stepped back + astonished. It was a veritable temple, this place of which respectable + people only mention the name in English, an original and charming + sanctuary in exquisite taste, fitted up like a pagoda, and the decoration + of which must certainly have caused a great effort. + </p> + <p> + They next visited the park, which was complex, varied, with winding paths + and full of old trees. But the journalist insisted on leaving; and, with + many thanks, he took leave of the master: As they left they met a + gardener; Patissot asked him: “Has Monsieur Meissonier owned this + place for a long time?” The man answered: “Oh, monsieur! that + needs explaining. I guess he bought the grounds in 1846. But, as for the + house! he has already torn down and rebuilt that five or six times. It + must have cost him at least two millions!” As Patissot left he was + seized with an immense respect for this man, not on account of his + success, glory or talent, but for putting so much money into a whim, + because the bourgeois deprive themselves of all pleasure in order to hoard + money. + </p> + <p> + After crossing Poissy, they struck out on foot along the road to Medan. + The road first followed the Seine, which is dotted with charming islands + at this place. Then they went up a hill and crossed the pretty village of + Villaines, went down a little; and finally reached the neighborhood + inhabited by the author of the Rougon-Macquart series. + </p> + <p> + A pretty old church with two towers appeared on the left. They walked + along a short distance, and a passing farmer directed them to the writer's + dwelling. + </p> + <p> + Before entering, they examined the house. A large building, square and + new, very high, seemed, as in the fable of the mountain and the mouse, to + have given birth to a tiny little white house, which nestled near it. This + little house was the original dwelling, and had been built by the former + owner. The tower had been erected by Zola. + </p> + <p> + They rang the bell. An enormous dog, a cross between a Saint Bernard and a + Newfoundland, began to howl so terribly that Patissot felt a vague desire + to retrace his steps. But a servant ran forward, calmed “Bertrand,” + opened the door, and took the journalist's card in order to carry it to + his master. + </p> + <p> + “I hope that he will receive us!” murmured Patissot. “It + would be too bad if we had come all this distance not to see him.” + </p> + <p> + His companion smiled and answered: “Never fear, I have a plan for + getting in.” + </p> + <p> + But the servant, who had returned, simply asked them to follow him. + </p> + <p> + They entered the new building, and Patissot, who was quite enthusiastic, + was panting as he climbed a stairway of ancient style which led to the + second story. + </p> + <p> + At the same time he was trying to picture to himself this man whose + glorious name echoes at present in all corners of the earth, amid the + exasperated hatred of some, the real or feigned indignation of society, + the envious scorn of several of his colleagues, the respect of a mass of + readers, and the frenzied admiration of a great number. He expected to see + a kind of bearded giant, of awe-inspiring aspect, with a thundering voice + and an appearance little prepossessing at first. + </p> + <p> + The door opened on a room of uncommonly large dimensions, broad and high, + lighted by an enormous window looking out over the valley. Old tapestries + covered the walls; on the left, a monumental fireplace, flanked by two + stone men, could have burned a century-old oak in one day. An immense + table littered with books, papers and magazines stood in the middle of + this apartment so vast and grand that it first engrossed the eye, and the + attention was only afterward drawn to the man, stretched out when they + entered on an Oriental divan where twenty persons could have slept. He + took a few steps toward them, bowed, motioned to two seats, and turned + back to his divan, where he sat with one leg drawn under him. A book lay + open beside him, and in his right hand he held an ivory paper-cutter, the + end of which he observed from time to time with one eye, closing the other + with the persistency of a near-sighted person. + </p> + <p> + While the journalist explained the purpose of the visit, and the writer + listened to him without yet answering, at times staring at him fixedly, + Patissot, more and more embarrassed, was observing this celebrity. + </p> + <p> + Hardly forty, he was of medium height, fairly stout, and with a + good-natured look. His head (very similar to those found in many Italian + paintings of the sixteenth century), without being beautiful in the + plastic sense of the word, gave an impression of great strength of + character, power and intelligence. Short hair stood up straight on the + high, well-developed forehead. A straight nose stopped short, as if cut + off suddenly above the upper lip which was covered with a black mustache; + over the whole chin was a closely-cropped beard. The dark, often ironical + look was piercing, one felt that behind it there was a mind always + actively at work observing people, interpreting words, analyzing gestures, + uncovering the heart. This strong, round head was appropriate to his name, + quick and short, with the bounding resonance of the two vowels. + </p> + <p> + When the journalist had fully explained his proposition, the writer + answered him that he did not wish to make any definite arrangement, that + he would, however, think the matter over, that his plans were not yet + sufficiently defined. Then he stopped. It was a dismissal, and the two + men, a little confused, arose. A desire seized Patissot; he wished this + well-known person to say something to him, anything, some word which he + could repeat to his colleagues; and, growing bold, he stammered: “Oh, + monsieur! If you knew how I appreciate your works!” The other bowed, + but answered nothing. Patissot became very bold and continued: “It + is a great honor for me to speak to you to-day.” The writer once + more bowed, but with a stiff and impatient look. Patissot noticed it, and, + completely losing his head, he added as he retreated: “What a su—su + —superb property!” + </p> + <p> + Then, in the heart of the man of letters, the landowner awoke, and, + smiling, he opened the window to show them the immense stretch of view. An + endless horizon broadened out on all sides, giving a view of Triel, + Pisse-Fontaine, Chanteloup, all the heights of Hautrie, and the Seine as + far as the eye could see. The two visitors, delighted, congratulated him, + and the house was opened to them. They saw everything, down to the dainty + kitchen, whose walls and even ceilings were covered with porcelain tiles + ornamented with blue designs, which excited the wonder of the farmers. + </p> + <p> + “How did you happen to buy this place?” asked the journalist. + </p> + <p> + The novelist explained that, while looking for a cottage to hire for the + summer, he had found the little house, which was for sale for several + thousand francs, a song, almost nothing. He immediately bought it. + </p> + <p> + “But everything that you have added must have cost you a good deal!” + </p> + <p> + The writer smiled, and answered: “Yes, quite a little.” + </p> + <p> + The two men left. The journalist, taking Patissot by the arm, was + philosophizing in a low voice: + </p> + <p> + “Every general has his Waterloo,” he said; “every Balzac + has his Jardies, and every artist living in the country feels like a + landed proprietor.” + </p> + <p> + They took the train at the station of Villaines, and, on the way home, + Patissot loudly mentioned the names of the famous painter and of the great + novelist as though they were his friends. He even allowed people to think + that he had taken luncheon with one and dinner with the other. + </p> +<div class='pre'> + BEFORE THE CELEBRATION +</div> + <p> + The celebration is approaching and preliminary quivers are already running + through the streets, just as the ripples disturb the water preparatory to + a storm. The shops, draped with flags, display a variety of gay-colored + bunting materials, and the dry-goods people deceive one about the three + colors as grocers do about the weight of candles. Little by little, hearts + warm up to the matter; people speak about it in the street after dinner; + ideas are exchanged: + </p> + <p> + “What a celebration it will be, my friend; what a celebration!” + </p> + <p> + “Have you heard the news? All the rulers are coming incognito, as + bourgeois, in order to see it.” + </p> + <p> + “I hear that the Emperor of Russia has arrived; he expects to go + about everywhere with the Prince of Wales.” + </p> + <p> + “It certainly will be a fine celebration!” + </p> + <p> + It is going to a celebration; what Monsieur Patissot, Parisian bourgeois, + calls a celebration; one of these nameless tumults which, for fifteen + hours, roll from one end of the city to the other, every ugly specimen + togged out in its finest, a mob of perspiring bodies, where side by side + are tossed about the stout gossip bedecked in red, white and blue ribbons, + grown fat behind her counter and panting from lack of breath, the rickety + clerk with his wife and brat in tow, the laborer carrying his youngster + astride his neck, the bewildered provincial with his foolish, dazed + expression, the groom, barely shaved and still spreading the perfume of + the stable. And the foreigners dressed like monkeys, English women like + giraffes, the water-carrier, cleaned up for the occasion, and the + innumerable phalanx of little bourgeois, inoffensive little people, amused + at everything. All this crowding and pressing, the sweat and dust, and the + turmoil, all these eddies of human flesh, trampling of corns beneath the + feet of your neighbors, this city all topsy-turvy, these vile odors, these + frantic efforts toward nothing, the breath of millions of people, all + redolent of garlic, give to Monsieur Patissot all the joy which it is + possible for his heart to hold. + </p> + <p> + After reading the proclamation of the mayor on the walls of his district + he had made his preparations. + </p> + <p> + This bit of prose said: + </p> +<div class='pre'> + I wish to call your attention particularly to the part of + individuals in this celebration. Decorate your homes, illuminate + your windows. Get together, open up a subscription in order to give + to your houses and to your street a more brilliant and more artistic + appearance than the neighboring houses and streets. +</div> + <p> + Then Monsieur Patissot tried to imagine how he could give to his home an + artistic appearance. + </p> + <p> + One serious obstacle stood in the way. His only window looked out on a + courtyard, a narrow, dark shaft, where only the rats could have seen his + three Japanese lanterns. + </p> + <p> + He needed a public opening. He found it. On the first floor of his house + lived a rich man, a nobleman and a royalist, whose coachman, also a + reactionary, occupied a garret-room on the sixth floor, facing the street. + Monsieur Patissot supposed that by paying (every conscience can be bought) + he could obtain the use of the room for the day. He proposed five francs + to this citizen of the whip for the use of his room from noon till + midnight. The offer was immediately accepted. + </p> + <p> + Then he began to busy himself with the decorations. Three flags, four + lanterns, was that enough to give to this box an artistic appearance—to + express all the noble feelings of his soul? No; assuredly not! But, + notwithstanding diligent search and nightly meditation, Monsieur Patissot + could think of nothing else. He consulted his neighbors, who were + surprised at the question; he questioned his colleagues—every one + had bought lanterns and flags, some adding, for the occasion, red, white + and blue bunting. + </p> + <p> + Then he began to rack his brains for some original idea. He frequented the + cafes, questioning the patrons; they lacked imagination. Then one morning + he went out on top of an omnibus. A respectable-looking gentleman was + smoking a cigar beside him, a little farther away a laborer was smoking + his pipe upside down, near the driver two rough fellows were joking, and + clerks of every description were going to business for three cents. + </p> + <p> + Before the stores stacks of flags were resplendent under the rising sun. + Patissot turned to his neighbor. + </p> + <p> + “It is going to be a fine celebration,” he said. The gentleman + looked at him sideways and answered in a haughty manner: + </p> + <p> + “That makes no difference to me!” + </p> + <p> + “You are not going to take part in it?” asked the surprised + clerk. The other shook his head disdainfully and declared: + </p> + <p> + “They make me tired with their celebrations! Whose celebration is + it? The government's? I do not recognize this government, monsieur!” + </p> + <p> + But Patissot, as government employee, took on his superior manner, and + answered in a stern voice: + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur, the Republic is the government.” + </p> + <p> + His neighbor was not in the least disturbed, and, pushing his hands down + in his pockets, he exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “Well, and what then? It makes no difference to me. Whether it's for + the Republic or something else, I don't care! What I want, monsieur, is to + know my government. I saw Charles X. and adhered to him, monsieur; I saw + Louis-Philippe and adhered to him, monsieur; I saw Napoleon and adhered to + him; but I have never seen the Republic.” + </p> + <p> + Patissot, still serious, answered: + </p> + <p> + “The Republic, monsieur, is represented by its president!” + </p> + <p> + The other grumbled: + </p> + <p> + “Well, them, show him to me!” + </p> + <p> + Patissot shrugged his shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “Every one can see him; he's not shut up in a closet!” + </p> + <p> + Suddenly the fat man grew angry. + </p> + <p> + “Excuse me, monsieur, he cannot be seen. I have personally tried + more than a hundred times, monsieur. I have posted myself near the Elysee; + he did not come out. A passer-by informed me that he was playing billiards + in the cafe opposite; I went to the cafe opposite; he was not there. I had + been promised that he would go to Melun for the convention; I went to + Melun, I did not see him. At last I became weary. I did not even see + Monsieur Gambetta, and I do not know a single deputy.” + </p> + <p> + He was, growing excited: + </p> + <p> + “A government, monsieur, is made to be seen; that's what it's there + for, and for nothing else. One must be able to know that on such and such + a day at such an hour the government will pass through such and such a + street. Then one goes there and is satisfied.” + </p> + <p> + Patissot, now calm, was enjoying his arguments. + </p> + <p> + “It is true,” he said, “that it is agreeable to know the + people by whom one is governed.” + </p> + <p> + The gentleman continued more gently: + </p> + <p> + “Do you know how I would manage the celebration? Well, monsieur, I + would have a procession of gilded cars, like the chariots used at the + crowning of kings; in them I would parade all the members of the + government, from the president to the deputies, throughout Paris all day + long. In that manner, at least, every one would know by sight the + personnel of the state.” + </p> + <p> + But one of the toughs near the coachman turned around, exclaiming: + </p> + <p> + “And the fatted ox, where would you put him?” + </p> + <p> + A laugh ran round the two benches. Patissot understood the objection, and + murmured: + </p> + <p> + “It might not perhaps be very dignified.” + </p> + <p> + The gentleman thought the matter over and admitted it. + </p> + <p> + “Then,” he said, “I would place them in view some place, + so that every one could see them without going out of his way; on the + Triumphal Arch at the Place de l'Etoile, for instance; and I would have + the whole population pass before them. That would be very imposing.” + </p> + <p> + Once more the tough turned round and said: + </p> + <p> + “You'd have to take telescopes to see their faces.” + </p> + <p> + The gentleman did not answer; he continued: + </p> + <p> + “It's just like the presentation of the flags! There ought to be + some pretext, a mimic war ought to be organized, and the banners would be + awarded to the troops as a reward. I had an idea about which I wrote to + the minister; but he has not deigned to answer me. As the taking of the + Bastille has been chosen for the date of the national celebration, a + reproduction of this event might be made; there would be a pasteboard + Bastille, fixed up by a scene-painter and concealing within its walls the + whole Column of July. Then, monsieur, the troop would attack. That would + be a magnificent spectacle as well as a lesson, to see the army itself + overthrow the ramparts of tyranny. Then this Bastille would be set fire to + and from the midst of the flames would appear the Column with the genius + of Liberty, symbol of a new order and of the freedom of the people.” + </p> + <p> + This time every one was listening to him and finding his idea excellent. + An old gentleman exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “That is a great idea, monsieur, which does you honor. It is to be + regretted that the government did not adopt it.” + </p> + <p> + A young man declared that actors ought to recite the “Iambes” + of Barbier through the streets in order to teach the people art and + liberty simultaneously. + </p> + <p> + These propositions excited general enthusiasm. Each one wished to have his + word; all were wrought up. From a passing hand-organ a few strains of the + Marseillaise were heard; the laborer started the song, and everybody + joined in, roaring the chorus. The exalted nature of the song and its wild + rhythm fired the driver, who lashed his horses to a gallop. Monsieur + Patissot was bawling at the top of his lungs, and the passengers inside, + frightened, were wondering what hurricane had struck them. + </p> + <p> + At last they stopped, and Monsieur Patissot, judging his neighbor to be a + man of initiative, consulted him about the preparations which he expected + to make: + </p> + <p> + “Lanterns and flags are all right,”' said Patissot; “but + I prefer something better.” + </p> + <p> + The other thought for a long time, but found nothing. Then, in despair, + the clerk bought three flags and four lanterns. + </p> +<div class='pre'> + AN EXPERIMENT IN LOVE +</div> + <p> + Many poets think that nature is incomplete without women, and hence, + doubtless, come all the flowery comparisons which, in their songs, make + our natural companion in turn a rose, a violet, a tulip, or something of + that order. The need of tenderness which seizes us at dusk, when the + evening mist begins to roll in from the hills, and when all the perfumes + of the earth intoxicate us, is but imperfectly satisfied by lyric + invocations. Monsieur Patissot, like all others, was seized with a wild + desire for tenderness, for sweet kisses exchanged along a path where + sunshine steals in at times, for the pressure of a pair of small hands, + for a supple waist bending under his embrace. + </p> + <p> + He began to look at love as an unbounded pleasure, and, in his hours of + reverie, he thanked the Great Unknown for having put so much charm into + the caresses of human beings. But he needed a companion, and he did not + know where to find one. On the advice of a friend, he went to the + Folies-Bergere. There he saw a complete assortment. He was greatly + perplexed to choose between them, for the desires of his heart were + chiefly composed of poetic impulses, and poetry did not seem to be the + strong point of these young ladies with penciled eyebrows who smiled at + him in such a disturbing manner, showing the enamel of their false teeth. + At last his choice fell on a young beginner who seemed poor and timid and + whose sad look seemed to announce a nature easily influenced by poetry. + </p> + <p> + He made an appointment with her for the following day at nine o'clock at + the Saint-Lazare station. She did not come, but she was kind enough to + send a friend in her stead. + </p> + <p> + She was a tall, red-haired girl, patriotically dressed in three colors, + and covered by an immense tunnel hat, of which her head occupied the + centre. Monsieur Patissot, a little disappointed, nevertheless accepted + this substitute. They left for Maisons-Laffite, where regattas and a grand + Venetian festival had been announced. + </p> + <p> + As soon as they were in the car, which was already occupied by two + gentlemen who wore the red ribbon and three ladies who must at least have + been duchesses, they were so dignified, the big red-haired girl, who + answered the name of Octavie, announced to Patissot, in a screeching + voice, that she was a fine girl fond of a good time and loving the country + because there she could pick flowers and eat fried fish. She laughed with + a shrillness which almost shattered the windows, familiarly calling her + companion “My big darling.” + </p> + <p> + Shame overwhelmed Patissot, who as a government employee, had to observe a + certain amount of decorum. But Octavie stopped talking, glancing at her + neighbors, seized with the overpowering desire which haunts all women of a + certain class to make the acquaintance of respectable women. After about + five minutes she thought she had found an opening, and, drawing from her + pocket a Gil-Blas, she politely offered it to one of the amazed ladies, + who declined, shaking her head. Then the big, red-haired girl began saying + things with a double meaning, speaking of women who are stuck up without + being any better than the others; sometimes she would let out a vulgar + word which acted like a bomb exploding amid the icy dignity of the + passengers. + </p> + <p> + At last they arrived. Patissot immediately wished to gain the shady nooks + of the park, hoping that the melancholy of the forest would quiet the + ruffled temper of his companion. But an entirely different effect + resulted. As soon as she was amid the leaves and grass she began to sing + at the top of her lungs snatches from operas which had stuck in her + frivolous mind, warbling and trilling, passing from “Robert le + Diable” to the “Muette,” lingering especially on a + sentimental love-song, whose last verses she sang in a voice as piercing + as a gimlet. + </p> + <p> + Then suddenly she grew hungry. Patissot, who was still awaiting the + hoped-for tenderness, tried in vain to retain her. Then she grew angry, + exclaiming: + </p> + <p> + “I am not here for a dull time, am I?” + </p> + <p> + He had to take her to the Petit-Havre restaurant, which was near the place + where the regatta was to be held. + </p> + <p> + She ordered an endless luncheon, a succession of dishes substantial enough + to feed a regiment. Then, unable to wait, she called for relishes. A box + of sardines was brought; she started in on it as though she intended to + swallow the box itself. But when she had eaten two or three of the little + oily fish she declared that she was no longer hungry and that she wished + to see the preparations for the race. + </p> + <p> + Patissot, in despair and in his turn seized with hunger, absolutely + refused to move. She started off alone, promising to return in time for + the dessert. He began to eat in lonely silence, not knowing how to lead + this rebellious nature to the realization of his dreams. + </p> + <p> + As she did not return he set out in search of her. She had found some + friends, a troop of boatmen, in scanty garb, sunburned to the tips of + their ears, and gesticulating, who were loudly arranging the details of + the race in front of the house of Fourmaise, the builder. + </p> + <p> + Two respectable-looking gentlemen, probably the judges, were listening + attentively. As soon as she saw Patissot, Octavie, who was leaning on the + tanned arm of a strapping fellow who probably had more muscle than brains, + whispered a few words in his ears. He answered: + </p> + <p> + “That's an agreement.” + </p> + <p> + She returned to the clerk full of joy, her eyes sparkling, almost + caressing. + </p> + <p> + “Let's go for a row,” said she. + </p> + <p> + Pleased to see her so charming, he gave in to this new whim and procured a + boat. But she obstinately refused to go to the races, notwithstanding + Patissot's wishes. + </p> + <p> + “I had rather be alone with you, darling.” + </p> + <p> + His heart thrilled. At last! + </p> + <p> + He took off his coat and began to row madly. + </p> + <p> + An old dilapidated mill, whose worm-eaten wheels hung over the water, + stood with its two arches across a little arm of the river. Slowly they + passed beneath it, and, when they were on the other side, they noticed + before them a delightful little stretch of river, shaded by great trees + which formed an arch over their heads. The little stream flowed along, + winding first to the right and then to the left, continually revealing new + scenes, broad fields on one side and on the other side a hill covered with + cottages. They passed before a bathing establishment almost entirely + hidden by the foliage, a charming country spot where gentlemen in clean + gloves and beribboned ladies displayed all the ridiculous awkwardness of + elegant people in the country. She cried joyously: + </p> + <p> + “Later on we will take a dip there.” + </p> + <p> + Farther on, in a kind of bay, she wished to stop, coaxing: + </p> + <p> + “Come here, honey, right close to me.” + </p> + <p> + She put her arm around his neck and, leaning her head on his shoulder, she + murmured: + </p> + <p> + “How nice it is! How delightful it is on the water!” + </p> + <p> + Patissot was reveling in happiness. He was thinking of those foolish + boatmen who, without ever feeling the penetrating charm of the river banks + and the delicate grace of the reeds, row along out of breath, perspiring + and tired out, from the tavern where they take luncheon to the tavern + where they take dinner. + </p> + <p> + He was so comfortable that he fell asleep. When he awoke, he was alone. He + called, but no one answered. Anxious, he climbed up on the side of the + river, fearing that some accident might have happened. + </p> + <p> + Then, in the distance, coming in his direction, he saw a long, slender gig + which four oarsmen as black as negroes were driving through the water like + an arrow. It came nearer, skimming over the water; a woman was holding the + tiller. Heavens! It looked—it was she! In order to regulate the + rhythm of the stroke, she was singing in her shrill voice a boating song, + which she interrupted for a minute as she got in front of Patissot. Then, + throwing him a kiss, she cried: + </p> + <p> + “You big goose!” + </p> +<div class='pre'> + A DINNER AND SOME OPINIONS +</div> + <p> + On the occasion of the national celebration Monsieur Antoine Perdrix, + chief of Monsieur Patissot's department, was made a knight of the Legion + of Honor. He had been in service for thirty years under preceding + governments, and for ten years under the present one. His employees, + although grumbling a little at being thus rewarded in the person of their + chief, thought it wise, nevertheless, to offer him a cross studded with + paste diamonds. The new knight, in turn, not wishing to be outdone, + invited them all to dinner for the following Sunday, at his place at + Asnieres. + </p> + <p> + The house, decorated with Moorish ornaments, looked like a cafe concert, + but its location gave it value, as the railroad cut through the whole + garden, passing within a hundred and fifty feet of the porch. On the + regulation plot of grass stood a basin of Roman cement, containing + goldfish and a stream of water the size of that which comes from a + syringe, which occasionally made microscopic rainbows at which the guests + marvelled. + </p> + <p> + The feeding of this irrigator was the constant preoccupation of Monsieur + Perdrix, who would sometimes get up at five o'clock in the morning in + order to fill the tank. Then, in his shirt sleeves, his big stomach almost + bursting from his trousers, he would pump wildly, so that on returning + from the office he could have the satisfaction of letting the fountain + play and of imagining that it was cooling off the garden. + </p> + <p> + On the night of the official dinner all the guests, one after the other, + went into ecstasies over the surroundings, and each time they heard a + train in the distance, Monsieur Perdrix would announce to them its + destination: Saint-Germain, Le Havre, Cherbourg, or Dieppe, and they would + playfully wave to the passengers leaning from the windows. + </p> + <p> + The whole office force was there. First came Monsieur Capitaine, the + assistant chief; Monsieur Patissot, chief clerk; then Messieurs de + Sombreterre and Vallin, elegant young employees who only came to the + office when they had to; lastly Monsieur Rade, known throughout the + ministry for the absurd doctrines which he upheld, and the copying clerk, + Monsieur Boivin. + </p> + <p> + Monsieur Rade passed for a character. Some called him a dreamer or an + idealist, others a revolutionary; every one agreed that he was very + clumsy. Old, thin and small, with bright eyes and long, white hair, he had + all his life professed a profound contempt for administrative work. A book + rummager and a great reader, with a nature continually in revolt against + everything, a seeker of truth and a despiser of popular prejudices, he had + a clear and paradoxical manner of expressing his opinions which closed the + mouths of self-satisfied fools and of those that were discontented without + knowing why. People said: “That old fool of a Rade,” or else: + “That harebrained Rade”; and the slowness, of his promotion + seemed to indicate the reason, according to commonplace minds. His freedom + of speech often made—his colleagues tremble; they asked themselves + with terror how he had been able to keep his place as long as he had. As + soon as they had seated themselves, Monsieur Perdrix thanked his “collaborators” + in a neat little speech, promising them his protection, the more valuable + as his power grew, and he ended with a stirring peroration in which he + thanked and glorified a government so liberal and just that it knows how + to seek out the worthy from among the humble. + </p> + <p> + Monsieur Capitaine, the assistant chief, answered in the name of the + office, congratulated, greeted, exalted, sang the praises of all; frantic + applause greeted these two bits of eloquence. After that they settled down + seriously to the business of eating. + </p> + <p> + Everything went well up to the dessert; lack of conversation went + unnoticed. But after the coffee a discussion arose, and Monsieur Rade let + himself loose and soon began to overstep the bounds of discretion. + </p> + <p> + They naturally discussed love, and a breath of chivalry intoxicated this + room full of bureaucrats; they praised and exalted the superior beauty of + woman, the delicacy of her soul, her aptitude for exquisite things, the + correctness of her judgment, and the refinement of her sentiments. + Monsieur Rade began to protest, energetically refusing to credit the + so-called “fair” sex with all the qualities they ascribed to + it; then, amidst the general indignation, he quoted some authors: + </p> + <p> + “Schopenhauer, gentlemen, Schopenhauer, the great philosopher, + revered by all Germany, says: 'Man's intelligence must have been terribly + deadened by love in order to call this sex with the small waist, narrow + shoulders, large hips and crooked legs, the fair sex. All its beauty lies + in the instinct of love. Instead of calling it the fair, it would have + been better to call it the unaesthetic sex. Women have neither the + appreciation nor the knowledge of music, any more than they have of poetry + or of the plastic arts; with them it is merely an apelike imitation, pure + pretence, affectation cultivated from their desire to please.'” + </p> + <p> + “The man who said that is an idiot,” exclaimed Monsieur de + Sombreterre. + </p> + <p> + Monsieur Rade smilingly continued: + </p> + <p> + “And how about Rousseau, gentlemen? Here is his opinion: 'Women, as + a rule, love no art, are skilled in none, and have no talent.'” + </p> + <p> + Monsieur de Sombreterre disdainfully shrugged his shoulders: + </p> + <p> + “Then Rousseau is as much of a fool as the other, that's all.” + </p> + <p> + Monsieur Rade, still smiling, went on: + </p> + <p> + “And this is what Lord Byron said, who, nevertheless, loved women: + 'They should be well fed and well dressed, but not allowed to mingle with + society. They should also be taught religion, but they should ignore + poetry and politics, only being allowed to read religious works or + cook-books.'” + </p> + <p> + Monsieur Rade continued: + </p> + <p> + “You see, gentlemen, all of them study painting and music. But not a + single one of them has ever painted a remarkable picture or composed a + great opera! Why, gentlemen? Because they are the 'sexes sequior', the + secondary sex in every sense of the word, made to be kept apart, in the + background.” + </p> + <p> + Monsieur Patissot was growing angry, and exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “And how about Madame Sand, monsieur?” + </p> + <p> + “She is the one exception, monsieur, the one exception. I will quote + to you another passage from another great philosopher, this one an + Englishman, Herbert Spencer. Here is what he says: 'Each sex is capable, + under the influence of abnormal stimulation, of manifesting faculties + ordinarily reserved for the other one. Thus, for instance, in extreme + cases a special excitement may cause the breasts of men to give milk; + children deprived of their mothers have often thus been saved in time of + famine. Nevertheless, we do not place this faculty of giving milk among + the male attributes. It is the same with female intelligence, which, in + certain cases, will give superior products, but which is not to be + considered in an estimate of the feminine nature as a social factor.'” + </p> + <p> + All Monsieur Patissot's chivalric instincts were wounded and he declared: + </p> + <p> + “You are not a Frenchman, monsieur. French gallantry is a form of + patriotism.” + </p> + <p> + Monsieur Rade retorted: + </p> + <p> + “I have very little patriotism, monsieur, as little as I can get + along with.” + </p> + <p> + A coolness settled over the company, but he continued quietly: + </p> + <p> + “Do you admit with me that war is a barbarous thing; that this + custom of killing off people constitutes a condition of savagery; that it + is odious, when life is the only real good, to see governments, whose duty + is to protect the lives of their subjects, persistently looking for means + of destruction? Am I not right? Well, if war is a terrible thing, what + about patriotism, which is the idea at the base of it? When a murderer + kills he has a fixed idea; it is to steal. When a good man sticks his + bayonet through another good man, father of a family, or, perhaps, a great + artist, what idea is he following out?” + </p> + <p> + Everybody was shocked. + </p> + <p> + “When one has such thoughts, one should not express them in public.” + </p> + <p> + M. Patissot continued: + </p> + <p> + “There are, however, monsieur, principles which all good people + recognize.” + </p> + <p> + M. Rade asked: “Which ones?” + </p> + <p> + Then very solemnly, M. Patissot pronounced: “Morality, monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + M. Rade was beaming; he exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “Just let me give you one example, gentlemen, one little example. + What is your opinion of the gentlemen with the silk caps who thrive along + the boulevard's on the delightful traffic which you know, and who make a + living out of it?” + </p> + <p> + A look of disgust ran round the table: + </p> + <p> + “Well, gentlemen! only a century ago, when an elegant gentleman, + very ticklish about his honor, had for—friend—a beautiful and + rich lady, it was considered perfectly proper to live at her expense and + even to squander her whole fortune. This game was considered delightful. + This only goes to show that the principles of morality are by no means + settled—and that—” + </p> + <p> + M. Perdrix, visibly embarrassed, stopped him: + </p> + <p> + “M. Rade, you are sapping the very foundations of society. One must + always have principles. Thus, in politics, here is M. de Sombreterre, who + is a Legitimist; M. Vallin, an Orleanist; M. Patissot and myself, + Republicans; we all have very different principles, and yet we agree very + well because we have them.” + </p> + <p> + But M. Rade exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “I also have principles, gentlemen, very distinct ones.” + </p> + <p> + M. Patissot raised his head and coldly asked: + </p> + <p> + “It would please me greatly to know them, monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + M. Rade did not need to be coaxed. + </p> + <p> + “Here they are, monsieur: + </p> + <p> + “First principle—Government by one person is a monstrosity. + </p> + <p> + “Second principle—Restricted suffrage is an injustice. + </p> + <p> + “Third principle—Universal suffrage is idiotic. + </p> + <p> + “To deliver up millions of men, superior minds, scientists, even + geniuses, to the caprice and will of a being who, in an instant of gaiety, + madness, intoxication or love, would not hesitate to sacrifice everything + for his exalted fancy, would spend the wealth of the country amassed by + others with difficulty, would have thousands of men slaughtered on the + battle-fields, all this appears to me—a simple logician—a + monstrous aberration. + </p> + <p> + “But, admitting that a country must govern itself, to exclude, on + some always debatable pretext, a part of the citizens from the + administration of affairs is such an injustice that it seems to me + unworthy of a further discussion. + </p> + <p> + “There remains universal suffrage. I suppose that you will agree + with me that geniuses are a rarity. Let us be liberal and say that there + are at present five in France. Now, let us add, perhaps, two hundred men + with a decided talent, one thousand others possessing various talents, and + ten thousand superior intellects. This is a staff of eleven thousand two + hundred and five minds. After that you have the army of mediocrities + followed by the multitude of fools. As the mediocrities and the fools + always form the immense majority, it is impossible for them to elect an + intelligent government. + </p> + <p> + “In order to be fair I admit that logically universal suffrage seems + to me the only admissible principle, but it is impracticable. Here are the + reasons why: + </p> + <p> + “To make all the living forces of the country cooperate in the + government, to represent all the interests, to take into account all the + rights, is an ideal dream, but hardly practicable, because the only force + which can be measured is that very one which should be neglected, the + stupid strength of numbers, According to your method, unintelligent + numbers equal genius, knowledge, learning, wealth and industry. When you + are able to give to a member of the Institute ten thousand votes to a + ragman's one, one hundred votes for a great land-owner as against his + farmer's ten, then you will have approached an equilibrium of forces and + obtained a national representation which will really represent the + strength of the nation. But I challenge you to do it. + </p> + <p> + “Here are my conclusions: + </p> + <p> + “Formerly, when a man was a failure at every other profession he + turned photographer; now he has himself elected a deputy. A government + thus composed will always be sadly lacking, incapable of evil as well as + of good. On the other hand, a despot, if he be stupid, can do a lot of + harm, and, if he be intelligent (a thing which is very scarce), he may do + good. + </p> + <p> + “I cannot decide between these two forms of government; I declare + myself to be an anarchist, that is to say, a partisan of that power which + is the most unassuming, the least felt, the most liberal, in the broadest + sense of the word, and revolutionary at the same time; by that I mean the + everlasting enemy of this same power, which can in no way be anything but + defective. That's all!” + </p> + <p> + Cries of indignation rose about the table, and all, whether Legitimist, + Orleanist or Republican through force of circumstances, grew red with + anger. M. Patissot especially was choking with rage, and, turning toward + M. Rade, he cried: + </p> + <p> + “Then, monsieur, you believe in nothing?” + </p> + <p> + The other answered quietly: + </p> + <p> + “You're absolutely correct, monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + The anger felt by all the guests prevented M. Rade from continuing, and M. + Perdrix, as chief, closed the discussion. + </p> + <p> + “Enough, gentlemen! We each have our opinion, and we have no + intention of changing it.” + </p> + <p> + All agreed with the wise words. But M. Rade, never satisfied, wished to + have the last word. + </p> + <p> + “I have, however, one moral,” said he. “It is simple and + always applicable. One sentence embraces the whole thought; here it is: + 'Never do unto another that which you would not have him do unto you.' I + defy you to pick any flaw in it, while I will undertake to demolish your + most sacred principles with three arguments.” + </p> + <p> + This time there was no answer. But as they were going home at night, by + couples, each one was saying to his companion: “Really, M. Rade goes + much too far. His mind must surely be unbalanced. He ought to be appointed + assistant chief at the Charenton Asylum.” + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0143"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + A RECOLLECTION + </h2> + <p> + How many recollections of youth come to me in the soft sunlight of early + spring! It was an age when all was pleasant, cheerful, charming, + intoxicating. How exquisite are the remembrances of those old springtimes! + </p> + <p> + Do you recall, old friends and brothers, those happy years when life was + nothing but a triumph and an occasion for mirth? Do you recall the days of + wanderings around Paris, our jolly poverty, our walks in the fresh, green + woods, our drinks in the wine-shops on the banks of the Seine and our + commonplace and delightful little flirtations? + </p> + <p> + I will tell you about one of these. It was twelve years ago and already + appears to me so old, so old that it seems now as if it belonged to the + other end of life, before middle age, this dreadful middle age from which + I suddenly perceived the end of the journey. + </p> + <p> + I was then twenty-five. I had just come to Paris. I was in a government + office, and Sundays were to me like unusual festivals, full of exuberant + happiness, although nothing remarkable occurred. + </p> + <p> + Now it is Sunday every day, but I regret the time when I had only one + Sunday in the week. How enjoyable it was! I had six francs to spend! + </p> + <p> + On this particular morning I awoke with that sense of freedom that all + clerks know so well—the sense of emancipation, of rest, of quiet and + of independence. + </p> + <p> + I opened my window. The weather was charming. A blue sky full of sunlight + and swallows spread above the town. + </p> + <p> + I dressed quickly and set out, intending to spend the day in the woods + breathing the air of the green trees, for I am originally a rustic, having + been brought up amid the grass and the trees. + </p> + <p> + Paris was astir and happy in the warmth and the light. The front of the + houses was bathed in sunlight, the janitress' canaries were singing in + their cages and there was an air of gaiety in the streets, in the faces of + the inhabitants, lighting them up with a smile as if all beings and all + things experienced a secret satisfaction at the rising of the brilliant + sun. + </p> + <p> + I walked towards the Seine to take the Swallow, which would land me at + Saint-Cloud. + </p> + <p> + How I loved waiting for the boat on the wharf: + </p> + <p> + It seemed to me that I was about to set out for the ends of the world, for + new and wonderful lands. I saw the boat approaching yonder, yonder under + the second bridge, looking quite small with its plume of smoke, then + growing larger and ever larger, as it drew near, until it looked to me + like a mail steamer. + </p> + <p> + It came up to the wharf and I went on board. People were there already in + their Sunday clothes, startling toilettes, gaudy ribbons and bright + scarlet designs. I took up a position in the bows, standing up and looking + at the quays, the trees, the houses and the bridges disappearing behind + us. And suddenly I perceived the great viaduct of Point du Jour which + blocked the river. It was the end of Paris, the beginning of the country, + and behind the double row of arches the Seine, suddenly spreading out as + though it had regained space and liberty, became all at once the peaceful + river which flows through the plains, alongside the wooded hills, amid the + meadows, along the edge of the forests. + </p> + <p> + After passing between two islands the Swallow went round a curved verdant + slope dotted with white houses. A voice called out: “Bas Meudon” + and a little further on, “Sevres,” and still further, “Saint-Cloud.” + </p> + <p> + I went on shore and walked hurriedly through the little town to the road + leading to the wood. + </p> + <p> + I had brought with me a map of the environs of Paris, so that I might not + lose my way amid the paths which cross in every direction these little + forests where Parisians take their outings. + </p> + <p> + As soon as I was unperceived I began to study my guide, which seemed to be + perfectly clear. I was to turn to the right, then to the left, then again + to the left and I should reach Versailles by evening in time for dinner. + </p> + <p> + I walked slowly beneath the young leaves, drinking in the air, fragrant + with the odor of young buds and sap. I sauntered along, forgetful of musty + papers, of the offices, of my chief, my colleagues, my documents, and + thinking of the good things that were sure to come to me, of all the + veiled unknown contained in the future. A thousand recollections of + childhood came over me, awakened by these country odors, and I walked + along, permeated with the fragrant, living enchantment, the emotional + enchantment of the woods warmed by the sun of June. + </p> + <p> + At times I sat down to look at all sorts of little flowers growing on a + bank, with the names of which I was familiar. I recognized them all just + as if they were the ones I had seen long ago in the country. They were + yellow, red, violet, delicate, dainty, perched on long stems or close to + the ground. Insects of all colors and shapes, short, long, of peculiar + form, frightful, and microscopic monsters, climbed quietly up the stalks + of grass which bent beneath their weight. + </p> + <p> + Then I went to sleep for some hours in a hollow and started off again, + refreshed by my doze. + </p> + <p> + In front of me lay an enchanting pathway and through its somewhat scanty + foliage the sun poured down drops of light on the marguerites which grew + there. It stretched out interminably, quiet and deserted, save for an + occasional big wasp, who would stop buzzing now and then to sip from a + flower, and then continue his way. + </p> + <p> + All at once I perceived at the end of the path two persons, a man and a + woman, coming towards me. Annoyed at being disturbed in my quiet walk, I + was about to dive into the thicket, when I thought I heard someone calling + me. The woman was, in fact, shaking her parasol, and the man, in his shirt + sleeves, his coat over one arm, was waving the other as a signal of + distress. + </p> + <p> + I went towards them. They were walking hurriedly, their faces very red, + she with short, quick steps and he with long strides. They both looked + annoyed and fatigued. + </p> + <p> + The woman asked: + </p> + <p> + “Can you tell me, monsieur, where we are? My fool of a husband made + us lose our way, although he pretended he knew the country perfectly.” + </p> + <p> + I replied confidently: + </p> + <p> + “Madame, you are going towards Saint-Cloud and turning your back on + Versailles.” + </p> + <p> + With a look of annoyed pity for her husband, she exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “What, we are turning our back on Versailles? Why, that is just + where we want to dine!” + </p> + <p> + “I am going there also, madame.” + </p> + <p> + “Mon Dieu, mon Dieu, mon Dieu!” she repeated, shrugging her + shoulders, and in that tone of sovereign contempt assumed by women to + express their exasperation. + </p> + <p> + She was quite young, pretty, a brunette with a slight shadow on her upper + lip. + </p> + <p> + As for him, he was perspiring and wiping his forehead. It was assuredly a + little Parisian bourgeois couple. The man seemed cast down, exhausted and + distressed. + </p> + <p> + “But, my dear friend, it was you—” he murmured. + </p> + <p> + She did not allow him to finish his sentence. + </p> + <p> + “It was I! Ah, it is my fault now! Was it I who wanted to go out + without getting any information, pretending that I knew how to find my + way? Was it I who wanted to take the road to the right on top of the hill, + insisting that I recognized the road? Was it I who undertook to take + charge of Cachou—” + </p> + <p> + She had not finished speaking when her husband, as if he had suddenly gone + crazy, gave a piercing scream, a long, wild cry that could not be + described in any language, but which sounded like 'tuituit'. + </p> + <p> + The young woman did not appear to be surprised or moved and resumed: + </p> + <p> + “No, really, some people are so stupid and they pretend they know + everything. Was it I who took the train to Dieppe last year instead of the + train to Havre—tell me, was it I? Was it I who bet that M. + Letourneur lived in Rue des Martyres? Was it I who would not believe that + Celeste was a thief?” + </p> + <p> + She went on, furious, with a surprising flow of language, accumulating the + most varied, the most unexpected and the most overwhelming accusations + drawn from the intimate relations of their daily life, reproaching her + husband for all his actions, all his ideas, all his habits, all his + enterprises, all his efforts, for his life from the time of their marriage + up to the present time. + </p> + <p> + He strove to check her, to calm her and stammered: + </p> + <p> + “But, my dear, it is useless—before monsieur. We are making + ourselves ridiculous. This does not interest monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + And he cast mournful glances into the thicket as though he sought to sound + its peaceful and mysterious depths, in order to flee thither, to escape + and hide from all eyes, and from time to time he uttered a fresh scream, a + prolonged and shrill “tuituit.” I took this to be a nervous + affection. + </p> + <p> + The young woman, suddenly turning towards me: and changing her tone with + singular rapidity, said: + </p> + <p> + “If monsieur will kindly allow us, we will accompany him on the + road, so as not to lose our way again, and be obliged, possibly, to sleep + in the wood.” + </p> + <p> + I bowed. She took my arm and began to talk about a thousand things —about + herself, her life, her family, her business. They were glovers in the Rue + Saint-Lazare. + </p> + <p> + Her husband walked beside her, casting wild glances into the thick wood + and screaming “tuituit” every few moments. + </p> + <p> + At last I inquired: + </p> + <p> + “Why do you scream like that?” + </p> + <p> + “I have lost my poor dog,” he replied in a tone of + discouragement and despair. + </p> + <p> + “How is that—you have lost your dog?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. He was just a year old. He had never been outside the shop. I + wanted to take him to have a run in the woods. He had never seen the grass + nor the leaves and he was almost wild. He began to run about and bark and + he disappeared in the wood. I must also add that he was greatly afraid of + the train. That may have driven him mad. I kept on calling him, but he has + not come back. He will die of hunger in there.” + </p> + <p> + Without turning towards her husband, the young woman said: + </p> + <p> + “If you had left his chain on, it would not have happened. When + people are as stupid as you are they do not keep a dog.” + </p> + <p> + “But, my dear, it was you—” he murmured timidly. + </p> + <p> + She stopped short, and looking into his eyes as if she were going to tear + them out, she began again to cast in his face innumerable reproaches. + </p> + <p> + It was growing dark. The cloud of vapor that covers the country at dusk + was slowly rising and there was a poetry in the air, induced by the + peculiar and enchanting freshness of the atmosphere that one feels in the + woods at nightfall. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly the young man stopped, and feeling his body feverishly, + exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I think that I—” + </p> + <p> + She looked at him. + </p> + <p> + “Well, what?” + </p> + <p> + “I did not notice that I had my coat on my arm.” + </p> + <p> + “Well—?” + </p> + <p> + “I have lost my pocketbook—my money was in it.” + </p> + <p> + She shook with anger and choked with indignation. + </p> + <p> + “That was all that was lacking. How stupid you are! how stupid you + are! Is it possible that I could have married such an idiot! Well, go and + look for it, and see that you find it. I am going on to Versailles with + monsieur. I do not want to sleep in the wood.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, my dear,” he replied gently. “Where shall I find + you?” + </p> + <p> + A restaurant had been recommended to me. I gave him the address. + </p> + <p> + He turned back and, stooping down as he searched the ground with anxious + eyes, he moved away, screaming “tuituit” every few moments. + </p> + <p> + We could see him for some time until the growing darkness concealed all + but his outline, but we heard his mournful “tuituit,” shriller + and shriller as the night grew darker. + </p> + <p> + As for me, I stepped along quickly and happily in the soft twilight, with + this little unknown woman leaning on my arm. I tried to say pretty things + to her, but could think of nothing. I remained silent, disturbed, + enchanted. + </p> + <p> + Our path was suddenly crossed by a high road. To the right I perceived a + town lying in a valley. + </p> + <p> + What was this place? A man was passing. I asked him. He replied: + </p> + <p> + “Bougival.” + </p> + <p> + I was dumfounded. + </p> + <p> + “What, Bougival? Are you sure?” + </p> + <p> + “Parbleu, I belong there!” + </p> + <p> + The little woman burst into an idiotic laugh. + </p> + <p> + I proposed that we should take a carriage and drive to Versailles. She + replied: + </p> + <p> + “No, indeed. This is very funny and I am very hungry. I am really + quite calm. My husband will find his way all right. It is a treat to me to + be rid of him for a few hours.” + </p> + <p> + We went into a restaurant beside the water and I ventured to ask for a + private compartment. We had some supper. She sang, drank champagne, + committed all sorts of follies. + </p> + <p> + That was my first serious flirtation. + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0144"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + OUR LETTERS + </h2> + <p> + Eight hours of railway travel induce sleep for some persons and insomnia + for others; with me, any journey prevents my sleeping on the following + night. + </p> + <p> + At about five o'clock I arrived at the estate of Abelle, which belongs to + my friends, the Murets d'Artus, to spend three weeks there. It is a pretty + house, built by one of their grandfathers in the style of the latter half + of the last century. Therefore it has that intimate character of dwellings + that have always been inhabited, furnished and enlivened by the same + people. Nothing changes; nothing alters the soul of the dwelling, from + which the furniture has never been taken out, the tapestries never + unnailed, thus becoming worn out, faded, discolored, on the same walls. + None of the old furniture leaves the place; only from time to time it is + moved a little to make room for a new piece, which enters there like a + new-born infant in the midst of brothers and sisters. + </p> + <p> + The house is on a hill in the center of a park which slopes down to the + river, where there is a little stone bridge. Beyond the water the fields + stretch out in the distance, and here one can see the cows wandering + around, pasturing on the moist grass; their eyes seem full of the dew, + mist and freshness of the pasture. I love this dwelling, just as one loves + a thing which one ardently desires to possess. I return here every autumn + with infinite delight; I leave with regret. + </p> + <p> + After I had dined with this friendly family, by whom I was received like a + relative, I asked my friend, Paul Muret: “Which room did you give me + this year?” + </p> + <p> + “Aunt Rose's room.” + </p> + <p> + An hour later, followed by her three children, two little girls and a boy, + Madame Muret d'Artus installed me in Aunt Rose's room, where I had not yet + slept. + </p> + <p> + When I was alone I examined the walls, the furniture, the general aspect + of the room, in order to attune my mind to it. I knew it but little, as I + had entered it only once or twice, and I looked indifferently at a pastel + portrait of Aunt Rose, who gave her name to the room. + </p> + <p> + This old Aunt Rose, with her curls, looking at me from behind the glass, + made very little impression on my mind. She looked to me like a woman of + former days, with principles and precepts as strong on the maxims of + morality as on cooking recipes, one of these old aunts who are the bugbear + of gaiety and the stern and wrinkled angel of provincial families. + </p> + <p> + I never had heard her spoken of; I knew nothing of her life or of her + death. Did she belong to this century or to the preceding one? Had she + left this earth after a calm or a stormy existence? Had she given up to + heaven the pure soul of an old maid, the calm soul of a spouse, the tender + one of a mother, or one moved by love? What difference did it make? The + name alone, “Aunt Rose,” seemed ridiculous, common, ugly. + </p> + <p> + I picked up a candle and looked at her severe face, hanging far up in an + old gilt frame. Then, as I found it insignificant, disagreeable, even + unsympathetic, I began to examine the furniture. It dated from the period + of Louis XVI, the Revolution and the Directorate. Not a chair, not a + curtain had entered this room since then, and it gave out the subtle odor + of memories, which is the combined odor of wood, cloth, chairs, hangings, + peculiar to places wherein have lived hearts that have loved and suffered. + </p> + <p> + I retired but did not sleep. After I had tossed about for an hour or two, + I decided to get up and write some letters. + </p> + <p> + I opened a little mahogany desk with brass trimmings, which was placed + between the two windows, in hope of finding some ink and paper; but all I + found was a quill-pen, very much worn, and chewed at the end. I was about + to close this piece of furniture, when a shining spot attracted my + attention it looked like the yellow head of a nail. I scratched it with my + finger, and it seemed to move. I seized it between two finger-nails, and + pulled as hard as I could. It came toward me gently. It was a long gold + pin which had been slipped into a hole in the wood and remained hidden + there. + </p> + <p> + Why? I immediately thought that it must have served to work some spring + which hid a secret, and I looked. It took a long time. After about two + hours of investigation, I discovered another hole opposite the first one, + but at the bottom of a groove. Into this I stuck my pin: a little shelf + sprang toward my face, and I saw two packages of yellow letters, tied with + a blue ribbon. + </p> + <p> + I read them. Here are two of them: + </p> +<div class='pre'> + So you wish me to return to you your letters, my dearest friend. + Here they are, but it pains me to obey. Of what are you afraid? + That I might lose them? But they are under lock and key. Do you + fear that they might be stolen? I guard against that, for they are + my dearest treasure. + + Yes, it pains me deeply. I wondered whether, perhaps you might not + be feeling some regret! Not regret at having loved me, for I know + that you still do, but the regret of having expressed on white paper + this living love in hours when your heart did not confide in me, but + in the pen that you held in your hand. When we love, we have need + of confession, need of talking or writing, and we either talk or + write. Words fly away, those sweet words made of music, air and + tenderness, warm and light, which escape as soon as they are + uttered, which remain in the memory alone, but which one can neither + see, touch nor kiss, as one can with the words written by your hand. + + Your letters? Yes, I am returning them to you! But with what + sorrow! + + Undoubtedly, you must have had an after thought of delicate shame at + expressions that are ineffaceable. In your sensitive and timid soul + you must have regretted having written to a man that you loved him. + You remembered sentences that called up recollections, and you said + to yourself: “I will make ashes of those words.” + + Be satisfied, be calm. Here are your letters. I love you. +</div> +<div class='pre'> + MY FRIEND: + + No, you have not understood me, you have not guessed. I do not + regret, and I never shall, that I told you of my affection. + + I will always write to you, but you must return my letters to me as + soon as you have read them. + + I shall shock you, my friend, when I tell you the reason for this + demand. It is not poetic, as you imagined, but practical. I am + afraid, not of you, but of some mischance. I am guilty. I do not + wish my fault to affect others than myself. + + Understand me well. You and I may both die. You might fall off + your horse, since you ride every day; you might die from a sudden + attack, from a duel, from heart disease, from a carriage accident, + in a thousand ways. For, if there is only one death, there are more + ways of its reaching us than there are days or us to live. + + Then your sisters, your brother, or your sister-in-law might find my + letters! Do you think that they love me? I doubt it. And then, + even if they adored me, is it possible for two women and one man to + know a secret—such a secret!—and not to tell of it? + + I seem to be saying very disagreeable things, speaking first of your + death, and then suspecting the discreetness of your relatives. + + But don't all of us die sooner or later? And it is almost certain + that one of us will precede the other under the ground. We must + therefore foresee all dangers, even that one. + + As for me, I will keep your letters beside mine, in the secret of my + little desk. I will show them to you there, sleeping side by side + in their silken hiding place, full of our love, like lovers in a + tomb. + + You will say to me: “But if you should die first, my dear, your + husband will find these letters.” + + Oh! I fear nothing. First of all, he does not know the secret of my + desk, and then he will not look for it. And even if he finds it + after my death, I fear nothing. + + Did you ever stop to think of all the love letters that have been + found after death? I have been thinking of this for a long time, + and that is the reason I decided to ask you for my letters. + + Think that never, do you understand, never, does a woman burn, tear + or destroy the letters in which it is told her that she is loved. + That is our whole life, our whole hope, expectation and dream. + These little papers which bear our name in caressing terms are + relics which we adore; they are chapels in which we are the saints. + Our love letters are our titles to beauty, grace, seduction, the + intimate vanity of our womanhood; they are the treasures of our + heart. No, a woman does not destroy these secret and delicious + archives of her life. + + But, like everybody else, we die, and then—then these letters + are found! Who finds them? The husband. Then what does he do? + Nothing. He burns them. + + Oh, I have thought a great deal about that! Just think that every + day women are dying who have been loved; every day the traces and + proofs of their fault fall into the hands of their husbands, and + that there is never a scandal, never a duel. + + Think, my dear, of what a man's heart is. He avenges himself on a + living woman; he fights with the man who has dishonored her, kills + him while she lives, because, well, why? I do not know exactly why. + But, if, after her death, he finds similar proofs, he burns them and + no one is the wiser, and he continues to shake hands with the friend + of the dead woman, and feels quite at ease that these letters should + not have fallen into strange hands, and that they are destroyed. + + Oh, how many men I know among my friends who must have burned such + proofs, and who pretend to know nothing, and yet who would have + fought madly had they found them when she was still alive! But she + is dead. Honor has changed. The tomb is the boundary of conjugal + sinning. + + Therefore, I can safely keep our letters, which, in your hands, + would be a menace to both of us. Do you dare to say that I am not + right? + + I love you and kiss you. +</div> + <p> + I raised my eyes to the portrait of Aunt Rose, and as I looked at her + severe, wrinkled face, I thought of all those women's souls which we do + not know, and which we suppose to be so different from what they really + are, whose inborn and ingenuous craftiness we never can penetrate, their + quiet duplicity; and a verse of De Vigny returned to my memory: + </p> +<div class='pre'> + “Always this comrade whose heart is uncertain.” + </div> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0145"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + THE LOVE OF LONG AGO + </h2> + <p> + The old-fashioned chateau was built on a wooded knoll in the midst of tall + trees with dark-green foliage; the park extended to a great distance, in + one direction to the edge of the forest, in another to the distant + country. A few yards from the front of the house was a huge stone basin + with marble ladies taking a bath; other, basins were seen at intervals + down to the foot of the slope, and a stream of water fell in cascades from + one basin to another. + </p> + <p> + From the manor house, which preserved the grace of a superannuated + coquette, down to the grottos incrusted with shell-work, where slumbered + the loves of a bygone age, everything in this antique demesne had retained + the physiognomy of former days. Everything seemed to speak still of + ancient customs, of the manners of long ago, of former gallantries, and of + the elegant trivialities so dear to our grandmothers. + </p> + <p> + In a parlor in the style of Louis XV, whose walls were covered with + shepherds paying court to shepherdesses, beautiful ladies in hoop-skirts, + and gallant gentlemen in wigs, a very old woman, who seemed dead as soon + as she ceased to move, was almost lying down in a large easy-chair, at + each side of which hung a thin, mummy-like hand. + </p> + <p> + Her dim eyes were gazing dreamily toward the distant horizon as if they + sought to follow through the park the visions of her youth. Through the + open window every now and then came a breath of air laden with the odor of + grass and the perfume of flowers. It made her white locks flutter around + her wrinkled forehead and old memories float through her brain. + </p> + <p> + Beside her, on a tapestried stool, a young girl, with long fair hair + hanging in braids down her back, was embroidering an altar-cloth. There + was a pensive expression in her eyes, and it was easy to see that she was + dreaming, while her agile fingers flew over her work. + </p> + <p> + But the old lady turned round her head, and said: + </p> + <p> + “Berthe, read me something out of the newspapers, that I may still + know sometimes what is going on in the world.” + </p> + <p> + The young girl took up a newspaper, and cast a rapid glance over it. + </p> + <p> + “There is a great deal about politics, grandmamma; shall I pass that + over?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes, darling. Are there no love stories? Is gallantry, then, + dead in France, that they no longer talk about abductions or adventures as + they did formerly?” + </p> + <p> + The girl made a long search through the columns of the newspaper. + </p> + <p> + “Here is one,” she said. “It is entitled 'A Love Drama!'” + </p> + <p> + The old woman smiled through her wrinkles. “Read that for me,” + she said. + </p> + <p> + And Berthe commenced. It was a case of vitriol throwing. A wife, in order + to avenge herself on her husband's mistress, had burned her face and eyes. + She had left the Court of Assizes acquitted, declared to be innocent, amid + the applause of the crowd. + </p> + <p> + The grandmother moved about excitedly in her chair, and exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “This is horrible—why, it is perfectly horrible! + </p> + <p> + “See whether you can find anything else to read to me, darling.” + </p> + <p> + Berthe again made a search; and farther down among the reports of criminal + cases, she read: + </p> + <p> + “'Gloomy Drama. A shop girl, no longer young, allowed herself to be + led astray by a young man. Then, to avenge herself on her lover, whose + heart proved fickle, she shot him with a revolver. The unhappy man is + maimed for life. The jury, all men of moral character, condoning the + illicit love of the murderess, honorably acquitted her.'” + </p> + <p> + This time the old grandmother appeared quite shocked, and, in a trembling + voice, she said: + </p> + <p> + “Why, you people are mad nowadays. You are mad! The good God has + given you love, the only enchantment in life. Man has added to this + gallantry the only distraction of our dull hours, and here you are mixing + up with it vitriol and revolvers, as if one were to put mud into a flagon + of Spanish wine.” + </p> + <p> + Berthe did not seem to understand her grandmother's indignation. + </p> + <p> + “But, grandmamma, this woman avenged herself. Remember she was + married, and her husband deceived her.” + </p> + <p> + The grandmother gave a start. + </p> + <p> + “What ideas have they been filling your head with, you young girls + of today?” + </p> + <p> + Berthe replied: + </p> + <p> + “But marriage is sacred, grandmamma.” + </p> + <p> + The grandmother's heart, which had its birth in the great age of + gallantry, gave a sudden leap. + </p> + <p> + “It is love that is sacred,” she said. “Listen, child, + to an old woman who has seen three generations, and who has had a long, + long experience of men and women. Marriage and love have nothing in + common. We marry to found a family, and we form families in order to + constitute society. Society cannot dispense with marriage. If society is a + chain, each family is a link in that chain. In order to weld those links, + we always seek metals of the same order. When we marry, we must bring + together suitable conditions; we must combine fortunes, unite similar + races and aim at the common interest, which is riches and children. We + marry only once my child, because the world requires us to do so, but we + may love twenty times in one lifetime because nature has made us like + this. Marriage, you see, is law, and love is an instinct which impels us, + sometimes along a straight, and sometimes along a devious path. The world + has made laws to combat our instincts—it was necessary to make them; + but our instincts are always stronger, and we ought not to resist them too + much, because they come from God; while the laws only come from men. If we + did not perfume life with love, as much love as possible, darling, as we + put sugar into drugs for children, nobody would care to take it just as it + is.” + </p> + <p> + Berthe opened her eyes wide in astonishment. She murmured: + </p> + <p> + “Oh! grandmamma, we can only love once.” + </p> + <p> + The grandmother raised her trembling hands toward Heaven, as if again to + invoke the defunct god of gallantries. She exclaimed indignantly: + </p> + <p> + “You have become a race of serfs, a race of common people. Since the + Revolution, it is impossible any longer to recognize society. You have + attached big words to every action, and wearisome duties to every corner + of existence; you believe in equality and eternal passion. People have + written poetry telling you that people have died of love. In my time + poetry was written to teach men to love every woman. And we! when we liked + a gentleman, my child, we sent him a page. And when a fresh caprice came + into our hearts, we were not slow in getting rid of the last Lover—unless + we kept both of them.” + </p> + <p> + The old woman smiled a keen smile, and a gleam of roguery twinkled in her + gray eye, the intellectual, skeptical roguery of those people who did not + believe that they were made of the same clay as the rest, and who lived as + masters for whom common beliefs were not intended. + </p> + <p> + The young girl, turning very pale, faltered out: + </p> + <p> + “So, then, women have no honor?” + </p> + <p> + The grandmother ceased to smile. If she had kept in her soul some of + Voltaire's irony, she had also a little of Jean Jacques's glowing + philosophy: “No honor! because we loved, and dared to say so, and + even boasted of it? But, my child, if one of us, among the greatest ladies + in France, had lived without a lover, she would have had the entire court + laughing at her. Those who wished to live differently had only to enter a + convent. And you imagine, perhaps, that your husbands will love but you + alone, all their lives. As if, indeed, this could be the case. I tell you + that marriage is a thing necessary in order that society should exist, but + it is not in the nature of our race, do you understand? There is only one + good thing in life, and that is love. And how you misunderstand it! how + you spoil it! You treat it as something solemn like a sacrament, or + something to be bought, like a dress.” + </p> + <p> + The young girl caught the old woman's trembling hands in her own. + </p> + <p> + “Hold your tongue, I beg of you, grandmamma!” + </p> + <p> + And, on her knees, with tears in her eyes, she prayed to Heaven to bestow + on her a great passion, one sole, eternal passion in accordance with the + dream of modern poets, while the grandmother, kissing her on the forehead, + quite imbued still with that charming, healthy reason with which gallant + philosophers tinctured the thought of the eighteenth century, murmured: + </p> + <p> + “Take care, my poor darling! If you believe in such folly as that, + you will be very unhappy.” + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0146"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + FRIEND JOSEPH + </h2> + <p> + They had been great friends all winter in Paris. As is always the case, + they had lost sight of each other after leaving school, and had met again + when they were old and gray-haired. One of them had married, but the other + had remained in single blessedness. + </p> + <p> + M. de Meroul lived for six months in Paris and for six months in his + little chateau at Tourbeville. Having married the daughter of a + neighboring squire, he had lived a good and peaceful life in the + indolence of a man who has nothing to do. Of a calm and quiet disposition, + and not over-intelligent he used to spend his time quietly regretting the + past, grieving over the customs and institutions of the day and + continually repeating to his wife, who would lift her eyes, and sometimes + her hands, to heaven, as a sign of energetic assent: “Good gracious! + What a government!” + </p> + <p> + Madame de Meroul resembled her husband intellectually as though she had + been his sister. She knew, by tradition, that one should above all respect + the Pope and the King! + </p> + <p> + And she loved and respected them from the bottom of her heart, without + knowing them, with a poetic fervor, with an hereditary devotion, with the + tenderness of a wellborn woman. She was good to, the marrow of her bones. + She had had no children, and never ceased mourning the fact. + </p> + <p> + On meeting his old friend, Joseph Mouradour, at a ball, M. de Meroul was + filled with a deep and simple joy, for in their youth they had been + intimate friends. + </p> + <p> + After the first exclamations of surprise at the changes which time had + wrought in their bodies and countenances, they told each other about their + lives since they had last met. + </p> + <p> + Joseph Mouradour, who was from the south of France, had become a + government official. His manner was frank; he spoke rapidly and without + restraint, giving his opinions without any tact. He was a Republican, one + of those good fellows who do not believe in standing on ceremony, and who + exercise an almost brutal freedom of speech. + </p> + <p> + He came to his friend's house and was immediately liked for his easy + cordiality, in spite of his radical ideas. Madame de Meroul would exclaim: + </p> + <p> + “What a shame! Such a charming man!” + </p> + <p> + Monsieur de Meroul would say to his friend in a serious and confidential + tone of voice; “You have no idea the harm that you are doing your + country.” He loved him all the same, for nothing is stronger than + the ties of childhood taken up again at a riper age. Joseph Mouradour + bantered the wife and the husband, calling them “my amiable snails,” + and sometimes he would solemnly declaim against people who were behind the + times, against old prejudices and traditions. + </p> + <p> + When he was once started on his democratic eloquence, the couple, somewhat + ill at ease, would keep silent from politeness and good-breeding; then the + husband would try to turn the conversation into some other channel in + order to avoid a clash. Joseph Mouradour was only seen in the intimacy of + the family. + </p> + <p> + Summer came. The Merouls had no greater pleasure than to receive their + friends at their country home at Tourbeville. It was a good, healthy + pleasure, the enjoyments of good people and of country proprietors. They + would meet their friends at the neighboring railroad station and would + bring them back in their carriage, always on the lookout for compliments + on the country, on its natural features, on the condition of the roads, on + the cleanliness of the farm-houses, on the size of the cattle grazing in + the fields, on everything within sight. + </p> + <p> + They would call attention to the remarkable speed with which their horse + trotted, surprising for an animal that did heavy work part of the year + behind a plow; and they would anxiously await the opinion of the newcomer + on their family domain, sensitive to the least word, and thankful for the + slightest good intention. + </p> + <p> + Joseph Mouradour was invited, and he accepted the invitation. + </p> + <p> + Husband and wife had come to the train, delighted to welcome him to their + home. As soon as he saw them, Joseph Mouradour jumped from the train with + a briskness which increased their satisfaction. He shook their hands, + congratulated them, overwhelmed them with compliments. + </p> + <p> + All the way home he was charming, remarking on the height of the trees, + the goodness of the crops and the speed of the horse. + </p> + <p> + When he stepped on the porch of the house, Monsieur de Meroul said, with a + certain friendly solemnity: + </p> + <p> + “Consider yourself at home now.” + </p> + <p> + Joseph Mouradour answered: + </p> + <p> + “Thanks, my friend; I expected as much. Anyhow, I never stand on + ceremony with my friends. That's how I understand hospitality.” + </p> + <p> + Then he went upstairs to dress as a farmer, he said, and he came back all + togged out in blue linen, with a little straw hat and yellow shoes, a + regular Parisian dressed for an outing. He also seemed to become more + vulgar, more jovial, more familiar; having put on with his country clothes + a free and easy manner which he judged suitable to the surroundings. His + new manners shocked Monsieur and Madame de Meroul a little, for they + always remained serious and dignified, even in the country, as though + compelled by the two letters preceding their name to keep up a certain + formality even in the closest intimacy. + </p> + <p> + After lunch they all went out to visit the farms, and the Parisian + astounded the respectful peasants by his tone of comradeship. + </p> + <p> + In the evening the priest came to dinner, an old, fat priest, accustomed + to dining there on Sundays, but who had been especially invited this day + in honor of the new guest. + </p> + <p> + Joseph, on seeing him, made a wry face. Then he observed him with + surprise, as though he were a creature of some peculiar race, which he had + never been able to observe at close quarters. During the meal he told some + rather free stories, allowable in the intimacy of the family, but which + seemed to the Merouls a little out of place in the presence of a minister + of the Church. He did not say, “Monsieur l'abbe,” but simply, + “Monsieur.” He embarrassed the priest greatly by philosophical + discussions about diverse superstitions current all over the world. He + said: “Your God, monsieur, is of those who should be respected, but + also one of those who should be discussed. Mine is called Reason; he has + always been the enemy of yours.” + </p> + <p> + The Merouls, distressed, tried to turn the trend of the conversation. The + priest left very early. + </p> + <p> + Then the husband said, very quietly: + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps you went a little bit too far with the priest.” + </p> + <p> + But Joseph immediately exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “Well, that's pretty good! As if I would be on my guard with a + shaveling! And say, do me the pleasure of not imposing him on me any more + at meals. You can both make use of him as much as you wish, but don't + serve him up to your friends, hang it!” + </p> + <p> + “But, my friends, think of his holy—” + </p> + <p> + Joseph Mouradour interrupted him: + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I know; they have to be treated like 'rosieres.' But let them + respect my convictions, and I will respect theirs!” + </p> + <p> + That was all for that day. + </p> + <p> + As soon as Madame de Meroul entered the parlor, the next morning, she + noticed in the middle of the table three newspapers which made her start + the Voltaire, the Republique-Francaise and the Justice. Immediately Joseph + Mouradour, still in blue, appeared on the threshold, attentively reading + the Intransigeant. He cried: + </p> + <p> + “There's a great article in this by Rochefort. That fellow is a + wonder!” + </p> + <p> + He read it aloud, emphasizing the parts which especially pleased him, so + carried away by enthusiasm that he did not notice his friend's entrance. + Monsieur de Meroul was holding in his hand the Gaulois for himself, the + Clarion for his wife. + </p> + <p> + The fiery prose of the master writer who overthrew the empire, spouted + with violence, sung in the southern accent, rang throughout the peaceful + parsons seemed to spatter the walls and century-old furniture with a hail + of bold, ironical and destructive words. + </p> + <p> + The man and the woman, one standing, the other sitting, were listening + with astonishment, so shocked that they could not move. + </p> + <p> + In a burst of eloquence Mouradour finished the last paragraph, then + exclaimed triumphantly: + </p> + <p> + “Well! that's pretty strong!” + </p> + <p> + Then, suddenly, he noticed the two sheets which his friend was carrying, + and he, in turn, stood speechless from surprise. Quickly walking toward + him he demanded angrily: + </p> + <p> + “What are you doing with those papers?” + </p> + <p> + Monsieur de Meroul answered hesitatingly: + </p> + <p> + “Why—those—those are my papers!” + </p> + <p> + “Your papers! What are you doing—making fun of me? You will do + me the pleasure of reading mine; they will limber up your ideas, and as + for yours—there! that's what I do with them.” + </p> + <p> + And before his astonished host could stop him, he had seized the two + newspapers and thrown them out of the window. Then he solemnly handed the + Justice to Madame de Meroul, the Voltaire to her husband, while he sank + down into an arm-chair to finish reading the Intransigeant. + </p> + <p> + The couple, through delicacy, made a pretense of reading a little, they + then handed him back the Republican sheets, which they handled gingerly, + as though they might be poisoned. + </p> + <p> + He laughed and declared: + </p> + <p> + “One week of this regime and I will have you converted to my ideas.” + </p> + <p> + In truth, at the end of a week he ruled the house. He had closed the door + against the priest, whom Madame de Meroul had to visit secretly; he had + forbidden the Gaulois and the Clarion to be brought into the house, so + that a servant had to go mysteriously to the post-office to get them, and + as soon as he entered they would be hidden under sofa cushions; he + arranged everything to suit himself—always charming, always + good-natured, a jovial and all-powerful tyrant. + </p> + <p> + Other friends were expected, pious and conservative friends. The unhappy + couple saw the impossibility of having them there then, and, not knowing + what to do, one evening they announced to Joseph Mouradour that they would + be obliged to absent themselves for a few days, on business, and they + begged him to stay on alone. He did not appear disturbed, and answered: + </p> + <p> + “Very well, I don't mind! I will wait here as long as you wish. I + have already said that there should be no formality between friends. You + are perfectly right-go ahead and attend to your business. It will not + offend me in the least; quite the contrary, it will make me feel much more + completely one of the family. Go ahead, my friends, I will wait for you!” + </p> + <p> + Monsieur and Madame de Meroul left the following day. + </p> + <p> + He is still waiting for them. + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0147"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + THE EFFEMINATES + </h2> + <p> + How often we hear people say, “He is charming, that man, but he is a + girl, a regular girl.” They are alluding to the effeminates, the + bane of our land. + </p> + <p> + For we are all girl-like men in France—that is, fickle, fanciful, + innocently treacherous, without consistency in our convictions or our + will, violent and weak as women are. + </p> + <p> + But the most irritating of girl—men is assuredly the Parisian and + the boulevardier, in whom the appearance of intelligence is more marked + and who combines in himself all the attractions and all the faults of + those charming creatures in an exaggerated degree in virtue of his + masculine temperament. + </p> + <p> + Our Chamber of Deputies is full of girl-men. They form the greater number + of the amiable opportunists whom one might call “The Charmers.” + These are they who control by soft words and deceitful promises, who know + how to shake hands in such a manner as to win hearts, how to say “My + dear friend” in a certain tactful way to people he knows the least, + to change his mind without suspecting it, to be carried away by each new + idea, to be sincere in their weathercock convictions, to let themselves be + deceived as they deceive others, to forget the next morning what he + affirmed the day before. + </p> + <p> + The newspapers are full of these effeminate men. That is probably where + one finds the most, but it is also where they are most needed. The Journal + des Debats and the Gazette de France are exceptions. + </p> + <p> + Assuredly, every good journalist must be somewhat effeminate—that + is, at the command of the public, supple in following unconsciously the + shades of public opinion, wavering and varying, sceptical and credulous, + wicked and devout, a braggart and a true man, enthusiastic and ironical, + and always convinced while believing in nothing. + </p> + <p> + Foreigners, our anti-types, as Mme. Abel called them, the stubborn English + and the heavy Germans, regard us with a certain amazement mingled with + contempt, and will continue to so regard us till the end of time. They + consider us frivolous. It is not that, it is that we are girls. And that + is why people love us in spite of our faults, why they come back to us + despite the evil spoken of us; these are lovers' quarrels! The effeminate + man, as one meets him in this world, is so charming that he captivates you + after five minutes' chat. His smile seems made for you; one cannot believe + that his voice does not assume specially tender intonations on their + account. When he leaves you it seems as if one had known him for twenty + years. One is quite ready to lend him money if he asks for it. He has + enchanted you, like a woman. + </p> + <p> + If he commits any breach of manners towards you, you cannot bear any + malice, he is so pleasant when you next meet him. If he asks your pardon + you long to ask pardon of him. Does he tell lies? You cannot believe it. + Does he put you off indefinitely with promises that he does not keep? One + lays as much store by his promises as though he had moved heaven and earth + to render them a service. + </p> + <p> + When he admires anything he goes into such raptures that he convinces you. + He once adored Victor Hugo, whom he now treats as a back number. He would + have fought for Zola, whom he has abandoned for Barbey and d'Aurevilly. + And when he admires, he permits no limitation, he would slap your face for + a word. But when he becomes scornful, his contempt is unbounded and allows + of no protest. + </p> + <p> + In fact, he understands nothing. + </p> + <p> + Listen to two girls talking. + </p> + <p> + “Then you are angry with Julia?” “I slapped her face.” + “What had she done?” “She told Pauline that I had no + money thirteen months out of twelve, and Pauline told Gontran—you + understand.” “You were living together in the Rue Clanzel?” + “We lived together four years in the Rue Breda; we quarrelled about + a pair of stockings that she said I had worn —it wasn't true—silk + stockings that she had bought at Mother Martin's. Then I gave her a + pounding and she left me at once. I met her six months ago and she asked + me to come and live with her, as she has rented a flat that is twice too + large.” + </p> + <p> + One goes on one's way and hears no more. But on the following Sunday as + one is on the way to Saint Germain two young women get into the same + railway carriage. One recognizes one of them at once; it is Julia's enemy. + The other is Julia! + </p> + <p> + And there are endearments, caresses, plans. “Say, Julia—listen, + Julia,” etc. + </p> + <p> + The girl-man has his friendships of this kind. For three months he cannot + bear to leave his old Jack, his dear Jack. There is no one but Jack in the + world. He is the only one who has any intelligence, any sense, any talent. + He alone amounts to anything in Paris. One meets them everywhere together, + they dine together, walk about in company, and every evening walk home + with each other back and forth without being able to part with one + another. + </p> + <p> + Three months later, if Jack is mentioned: + </p> + <p> + “There is a drinker, a sorry fellow, a scoundrel for you. I know him + well, you may be sure. And he is not even honest, and ill-bred,” + etc., etc. + </p> + <p> + Three months later, and they are living together. + </p> + <p> + But one morning one hears that they have fought a duel, then embraced each + other, amid tears, on the duelling ground. + </p> + <p> + Just now they are the dearest friends in the world, furious with each + other half the year, abusing and loving each other by turns, squeezing + each other's hands till they almost crush the bones, and ready to run each + other through the body for a misunderstanding. + </p> + <p> + For the relations of these effeminate men are uncertain. Their temper is + by fits and starts, their delight unexpected, their affection + turn-about-face, their enthusiasm subject to eclipse. One day they love + you, the next day they will hardly look at you, for they have in fact a + girl's nature, a girl's charm, a girl's temperament, and all their + sentiments are like the affections of girls. + </p> + <p> + They treat their friends as women treat their pet dogs. + </p> + <p> + It is the dear little Toutou whom they hug, feed with sugar, allow to + sleep on the pillow, but whom they would be just as likely to throw out of + a window in a moment of impatience, whom they turn round like a sling, + holding it by the tail, squeeze in their arms till they almost strangle + it, and plunge, without any reason, in a pail of cold water. + </p> + <p> + Then, what a strange thing it is when one of these beings falls in love + with a real girl! He beats her, she scratches him, they execrate each + other, cannot bear the sight of each other and yet cannot part, linked + together by no one knows what mysterious psychic bonds. She deceives him, + he knows it, sobs and forgives her. He despises and adores her without + seeing that she would be justified in despising him. They are both + atrociously unhappy and yet cannot separate. They cast invectives, + reproaches and abominable accusations at each other from morning till + night, and when they have reached the climax and are vibrating with rage + and hatred, they fall into each other's arms and kiss each other ardently. + </p> + <p> + The girl-man is brave and a coward at the same time. He has, more than + another, the exalted sentiment of honor, but is lacking in the sense of + simple honesty, and, circumstances favoring him, would defalcate and + commit infamies which do not trouble his conscience, for he obeys without + questioning the oscillations of his ideas, which are always impulsive. + </p> + <p> + To him it seems permissible and almost right to cheat a haberdasher. He + considers it honorable not to pay his debts, unless they are gambling + debts—that is, somewhat shady. He dupes people whenever the laws of + society admit of his doing so. When he is short of money he borrows in all + ways, not always being scrupulous as to tricking the lenders, but he + would, with sincere indignation, run his sword through anyone who should + suspect him of only lacking in politeness. + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0148"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + OLD AMABLE + </h2> +<div class='pre'> + PART I +</div> + <p> + The humid gray sky seemed to weigh down on the vast brown plain. The odor + of autumn, the sad odor of bare, moist lands, of fallen leaves, of dead + grass made the stagnant evening air more thick and heavy. The peasants + were still at work, scattered through the fields, waiting for the stroke + of the Angelus to call them back to the farmhouses, whose thatched roofs + were visible here and there through the branches of the leafless trees + which protected the apple-gardens against the wind. + </p> + <p> + At the side of the road, on a heap of clothes, a very small boy seated + with his legs apart was playing with a potato, which he now and then let + fall on his dress, whilst five women were bending down planting slips of + colza in the adjoining plain. With a slow, continuous movement, all along + the mounds of earth which the plough had just turned up, they drove in + sharp wooden stakes and in the hole thus formed placed the plant, already + a little withered, which sank on one side; then they patted down the earth + and went on with their work. + </p> + <p> + A man who was passing, with a whip in his hand, and wearing wooden shoes, + stopped near the child, took it up and kissed it. Then one of the women + rose up and came across to him. She was a big, red haired girl, with large + hips, waist and shoulders, a tall Norman woman, with yellow hair in which + there was a blood-red tint. + </p> + <p> + She said in a resolute voice: + </p> + <p> + “Why, here you are, Cesaire—well?” + </p> + <p> + The man, a thin young fellow with a melancholy air, murmured: + </p> + <p> + “Well, nothing at all—always the same thing.” + </p> + <p> + “He won't have it?” + </p> + <p> + “He won't have it.” + </p> + <p> + “What are you going to do?” + </p> + <p> + “What do you say I ought to do?” + </p> + <p> + “Go see the cure.” + </p> + <p> + “I will.” + </p> + <p> + “Go at once!” + </p> + <p> + “I will.” + </p> + <p> + And they stared at each other. He held the child in his arms all the time. + He kissed it once more and then put it down again on the woman's clothes. + </p> + <p> + In the distance, between two farm-houses, could be seen a plough drawn by + a horse and driven by a man. They moved on very gently, the horse, the + plough and the laborer, in the dim evening twilight. + </p> + <p> + The woman went on: + </p> + <p> + “What did your father say?” + </p> + <p> + “He said he would not have it.” + </p> + <p> + “Why wouldn't he have it?” + </p> + <p> + The young man pointed toward the child whom he had just put back on the + ground, then with a glance he drew her attention to the man drawing the + plough yonder there. + </p> + <p> + And he said emphatically: + </p> + <p> + “Because 'tis his—this child of yours.” + </p> + <p> + The girl shrugged her shoulders and in an angry tone said: + </p> + <p> + “Faith, every one knows it well—that it is Victor's. And what + about it after all? I made a slip. Am I the only woman that did? My mother + also made a slip before me, and then yours did the same before she married + your dad! Who is it that hasn't made a slip in the country? I made a slip + with Victor because he took advantage of me while I was asleep in the + barn, it's true, and afterward it happened between us when I wasn't + asleep. I certainly would have married him if he weren't a servant man. Am + I a worse woman for that?” + </p> + <p> + The man said simply: + </p> + <p> + “As for me, I like you just as you are, with or without the child. + It's only my father that opposes me. All the same, I'll see about settling + the business.” + </p> + <p> + She answered: + </p> + <p> + “Go to the cure at once.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm going to him.” + </p> + <p> + And he set forth with his heavy peasant's tread, while the girl, with her + hands on her hips, turned round to plant her colza. + </p> + <p> + In fact, the man who thus went off, Cesaire Houlbreque, the son of deaf + old Amable Houlbreque, wanted to marry, in spite of his father, Celeste + Levesque, who had a child by Victor Lecoq, a mere laborer on her parents' + farm, who had been turned out of doors for this act. + </p> + <p> + The hierarchy of caste, however, does not exist in the country, and if the + laborer is thrifty, he becomes, by taking a farm in his turn, the equal of + his former master. + </p> + <p> + So Cesaire Houlbieque went off, his whip under his arm, brooding over his + own thoughts and lifting up one after the other his heavy wooden shoes + daubed with clay. Certainly he desired to marry Celeste Levesque. He + wanted her with her child because she was the wife he wanted. He could not + say why, but he knew it, he was sure of it. He had only to look at her to + be convinced of it, to feel quite queer, quite stirred up, simply stupid + with happiness. He even found a pleasure in kissing the little boy, + Victor's little boy, because he belonged to her. + </p> + <p> + And he gazed, without hate, at the distant outline of the man who was + driving his plough along the horizon. + </p> + <p> + But old Amable did not want this marriage. He opposed it with the + obstinacy of a deaf man, with a violent obstinacy. + </p> + <p> + Cesaire in vain shouted in his ear, in that ear which still heard a few + sounds: + </p> + <p> + “I'll take good care of you, daddy. I tell you she's a good girl and + strong, too, and also thrifty.” + </p> + <p> + The old man repeated: + </p> + <p> + “As long as I live I won't see her your wife.” + </p> + <p> + And nothing could get the better of him, nothing could make him waver. One + hope only was left to Cesaire. Old Amable was afraid of the cure through + the apprehension of death which he felt drawing nigh; he had not much fear + of God, nor of the Devil, nor of Hell, nor of Purgatory, of which he had + no conception, but he dreaded the priest, who represented to him burial, + as one might fear the doctors through horror of diseases. For the last + tight days Celeste, who knew this weakness of the old man, had been urging + Cesaire to go and find the cure, but Cesaire always hesitated, because he + had not much liking for the black robe, which represented to him hands + always stretched out for collections or for blessed bread. + </p> + <p> + However, he had made up his mind, and he proceeded toward the presbytery, + thinking in what manner he would speak about his case. + </p> + <p> + The Abbe Raffin, a lively little priest, thin and never shaved, was + awaiting his dinner-hour while warming his feet at his kitchen fire. + </p> + <p> + As soon as he saw the peasant entering he asked, merely turning his head: + </p> + <p> + “Well, Cesaire, what do you want?” + </p> + <p> + “I'd like to have a talk with you, M. le Cure.” + </p> + <p> + The man remained standing, intimidated, holding his cap in one hand and + his whip in the other. + </p> + <p> + “Well, talk.” + </p> + <p> + Cesaire looked at the housekeeper, an old woman who dragged her feet while + putting on the cover for her master's dinner at the corner of the table in + front of the window. + </p> + <p> + He stammered: + </p> + <p> + “'Tis—'tis a sort of confession.” + </p> + <p> + Thereupon the Abbe Raffin carefully surveyed his peasant. He saw his + confused countenance, his air of constraint, his wandering eyes, and he + gave orders to the housekeeper in these words: + </p> + <p> + “Marie, go away for five minutes to your room, while I talk to + Cesaire.” + </p> + <p> + The servant cast on the man an angry glance and went away grumbling. + </p> + <p> + The clergyman went on: + </p> + <p> + “Come, now, tell your story.” + </p> + <p> + The young fellow still hesitated, looked down at his wooden shoes, moved + about his cap, then, all of a sudden, he made up his mind: + </p> + <p> + “Here it is: I want to marry Celeste Levesque.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, my boy, what's there to prevent you?” + </p> + <p> + “The father won't have it.” + </p> + <p> + “Your father?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, my father.” + </p> + <p> + “What does your father say?” + </p> + <p> + “He says she has a child.” + </p> + <p> + “She's not the first to whom that happened, since our Mother Eve.” + </p> + <p> + “A child by Victor Lecoq, Anthime Loisel's servant man.” + </p> + <p> + “Ha! ha! So he won't have it?” + </p> + <p> + “He won't have it.” + </p> + <p> + “What! not at all?” + </p> + <p> + “No, no more than an ass that won't budge an inch, saving your + presence.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you say to him yourself in order to make him decide?” + </p> + <p> + “I say to him that she's a good girl, and strong, too, and thrifty + also.” + </p> + <p> + “And this does not make him agree to it. So you want me to speak to + him?” + </p> + <p> + “Exactly. You speak to him.” + </p> + <p> + “And what am I to tell your father?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, what you tell people in your sermons to make them give you + sous.” + </p> + <p> + In the peasant's mind every effort of religion consisted in loosening the + purse strings, in emptying the pockets of men in order to fill the + heavenly coffer. It was a kind of huge commercial establishment, of which + the cures were the clerks; sly, crafty clerks, sharp as any one must be + who does business for the good God at the expense of the country people. + </p> + <p> + He knew full well that the priests rendered services, great services to + the poorest, to the sick and dying, that they assisted, consoled, + counselled, sustained, but all this by means of money, in exchange for + white pieces, for beautiful glittering coins, with which they paid for + sacraments and masses, advice and protection, pardon of sins and + indulgences, purgatory and paradise according to the yearly income and the + generosity of the sinner. + </p> + <p> + The Abbe Raffin, who knew his man and who never lost his temper, burst out + laughing. + </p> + <p> + “Well, yes, I'll tell your father my little story; but you, my lad, + you'll come to church.” + </p> + <p> + Houlbreque extended his hand in order to give a solemn assurance: + </p> + <p> + “On the word of a poor man, if you do this for me, I promise that I + will.” + </p> + <p> + “Come, that's all right. When do you wish me to go and find your + father?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, the sooner the better-to-night, if you can.” + </p> + <p> + “In half an hour, then, after supper.” + </p> + <p> + “In half an hour.” + </p> + <p> + “That's understood. So long, my lad.” + </p> + <p> + “Good-by till we meet again, Monsieur le Cure; many thanks.” + </p> + <p> + “Not at all, my lad.” + </p> + <p> + And Cesaire Houlbreque returned home, his heart relieved of a great + weight. + </p> + <p> + He held on lease a little farm, quite small, for they were not rich, his + father and he. Alone with a female servant, a little girl of fifteen, who + made the soup, looked after the fowls, milked the cows and churned the + butter, they lived frugally, though Cesaire was a good cultivator. But + they did not possess either sufficient lands or sufficient cattle to earn + more than the indispensable. + </p> + <p> + The old man no longer worked. Sad, like all deaf people, crippled with + pains, bent double, twisted, he went through the fields leaning on his + stick, watching the animals and the men with a hard, distrustful eye. + Sometimes he sat down on the side of the road and remained there without + moving for hours, vaguely pondering over the things that had engrossed his + whole life, the price of eggs, and corn, the sun and the rain which spoil + the crops or make them grow. And, worn out with rheumatism, his old limbs + still drank in the humidity of the soul, as they had drunk in for the past + sixty years, the moisture of the walls of his low house thatched with damp + straw. + </p> + <p> + He came back at the close of the day, took his place at the end of the + table in the kitchen and when the earthen bowl containing the soup had + been placed before him he placed round it his crooked fingers, which + seemed to have kept the round form of the bowl and, winter and summer, he + warmed his hands, before commencing to eat, so as to lose nothing, not + even a particle of the heat that came from the fire, which costs a great + deal, neither one drop of soup into which fat and salt have to be put, nor + one morsel of bread, which comes from the wheat. + </p> + <p> + Then he climbed up a ladder into a loft, where he had his straw-bed, while + his son slept below stairs at the end of a kind of niche near the + chimneypiece and the servant shut herself up in a kind of cellar, a black + hole which was formerly used to store the potatoes. + </p> + <p> + Cesaire and his father scarcely ever talked to each other. From time to + time only, when there was a question of selling a crop or buying a calf, + the young man would ask his father's advice, and, making a + speaking-trumpet of his two hands, he would bawl out his views into his + ear, and old Amable either approved of them or opposed them in a slow, + hollow voice that came from the depths of his stomach. + </p> + <p> + So one evening Cesaire, approaching him as if about to discuss the + purchase of a horse or a heifer, communicated to him at the top of his + voice his intention to marry Celeste Levesque. + </p> + <p> + Then the father got angry. Why? On the score of morality? No, certainly. + The virtue of a girl is of slight importance in the country. But his + avarice, his deep, fierce instinct for saving, revolted at the idea that + his son should bring up a child which he had not begotten himself. He had + thought suddenly, in one second, of the soup the little fellow would + swallow before becoming useful on the farm. He had calculated all the + pounds of bread, all the pints of cider that this brat would consume up to + his fourteenth year, and a mad anger broke loose from him against Cesaire, + who had not bestowed a thought on all this. + </p> + <p> + He replied in an unusually strong voice: + </p> + <p> + “Have you lost your senses?” + </p> + <p> + Thereupon Cesaire began to enumerate his reasons, to speak about Celeste's + good qualities, to prove that she would be worth a thousand times what the + child would cost. But the old man doubted these advantages, while he could + have no doubts as to the child's existence; and he replied with emphatic + repetition, without giving any further explanation: + </p> + <p> + “I will not have it! I will not have it! As long as I live, this + won't be done!” And at this point they had remained for the last + three months without one or the other giving in, resuming at least once a + week the same discussion, with the same arguments, the same words, the + same gestures and the same fruitlessness. + </p> + <p> + It was then that Celeste had advised Cesaire to go and ask for the cure's + assistance. + </p> + <p> + On arriving home the peasant found his father already seated at table, for + he came late through his visit to the presbytery. + </p> + <p> + They dined in silence, face to face, ate a little bread and butter after + the soup and drank a glass of cider. Then they remained motionless in + their chairs, with scarcely a glimmer of light, the little servant girl + having carried off the candle in order to wash the spoons, wipe the + glasses and cut the crusts of bread to be ready for next morning's + breakfast. + </p> + <p> + There was a knock, at the door, which was immediately opened, and the + priest appeared. The old man raised toward him an anxious eye full of + suspicion, and, foreseeing danger, he was getting ready to climb up his + ladder when the Abbe Raffin laid his hand on his shoulder and shouted + close to his temple: + </p> + <p> + “I want to have a talk with you, Father Amable.” + </p> + <p> + Cesaire had disappeared, taking advantage of the door being open. He did + not want to listen, for he was afraid and did not want his hopes to + crumble slowly with each obstinate refusal of his father. He preferred to + learn the truth at once, good or bad, later on; and he went out into the + night. It was a moonless, starless night, one of those misty nights when + the air seems thick with humidity. A vague odor of apples floated through + the farmyard, for it was the season when the earliest applies were + gathered, the “early ripe,” as they are called in the cider + country. As Cesaire passed along by the cattlesheds the warm smell of + living beasts asleep on manure was exhaled through the narrow windows, and + he heard the stamping of the horses, who were standing at the end of the + stable, and the sound of their jaws tearing and munching the hay on the + racks. + </p> + <p> + He went straight ahead, thinking about Celeste. In this simple nature, + whose ideas were scarcely more than images generated directly by objects, + thoughts of love only formulated themselves by calling up before the mind + the picture of a big red-haired girl standing in a hollow road and + laughing, with her hands on her hips. + </p> + <p> + It was thus he saw her on the day when he first took a fancy for her. He + had, however, known her from infancy, but never had he been so struck by + her as on that morning. They had stopped to talk for a few minutes and + then he went away, and as he walked along he kept repeating: + </p> + <p> + “Faith, she's a fine girl, all the same. 'Tis a pity she made a slip + with Victor.” + </p> + <p> + Till evening he kept thinking of her and also on the following morning. + </p> + <p> + When he saw her again he felt something tickling the end of his throat, as + if a cock's feather had been driven through his mouth into his chest, and + since then, every time he found himself near her, he was astonished at + this nervous tickling which always commenced again. + </p> + <p> + In three months he made up his mind to marry her, so much did she please + him. He could not have said whence came this power over him, but he + explained it in these words: + </p> + <p> + “I am possessed by her,” as if the desire for this girl within + him were as dominating as one of the powers of hell. He scarcely bothered + himself about her transgression. It was a pity, but, after all, it did her + no harm, and he bore no grudge against Victor Lecoq. + </p> + <p> + But if the cure should not succeed, what was he to do? He did not dare to + think of it, the anxiety was such a torture to him. + </p> + <p> + He reached the presbytery and seated himself near the little gateway to + wait for the priest's return. + </p> + <p> + He was there perhaps half an hour when he heard steps on the road, and + although the night was very dark, he presently distinguished the still + darker shadow of the cassock. + </p> + <p> + He rose up, his legs giving way under him, not even venturing to speak, + not daring to ask a question. + </p> + <p> + The clergyman perceived him and said gaily: + </p> + <p> + “Well, my lad, it's all right.” + </p> + <p> + Cesaire stammered: + </p> + <p> + “All right, 'tisn't possible.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, my lad, but not without trouble. What an old ass your father + is!” + </p> + <p> + The peasant repeated: + </p> + <p> + “'Tisn't possible!” + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes. Come and look me up to-morrow at midday in order to + settle about the publication of the banns.” + </p> + <p> + The young man seized the cure's hand. He pressed it, shook it, bruised it + as he stammered: + </p> + <p> + “True-true-true, Monsieur le Cure, on the word of an honest man, + you'll see me to-morrow-at your sermon.” + </p> +<div class='pre'> + PART II +</div> + <p> + The wedding took place in the middle of December. It was simple, the + bridal pair not being rich. Cesaire, attired in new clothes, was ready + since eight o'clock in the morning to go and fetch his betrothed and bring + her to the mayor's office, but it was too early. He seated himself before + the kitchen table and waited for the members of the family and the friends + who were to accompany him. + </p> + <p> + For the last eight days it had been snowing, and the brown earth, the + earth already fertilized by the autumn sowing, had become a dead white, + sleeping under a great sheet of ice. + </p> + <p> + It was cold in the thatched houses adorned with white caps, and the round + apples in the trees of the enclosures seemed to be flowering, covered with + white as they had been in the pleasant month of their blossoming. + </p> + <p> + This day the big clouds to the north, the big great snow clouds, had + disappeared and the blue sky showed itself above the white earth on which + the rising sun cast silvery reflections. + </p> + <p> + Cesaire looked straight before him through the window, thinking of + nothing, quite happy. + </p> + <p> + The door opened, two women entered, peasant women in their Sunday clothes, + the aunt and the cousin of the bridegroom; then three men, his cousins; + then a woman who was a neighbor. They sat down on chairs and remained, + motionless and silent, the women on one side of the kitchen, the men on + the other, suddenly seized with timidity, with that embarrassed sadness + which takes possession of people assembled for a ceremony. One of the + cousins soon asked: + </p> + <p> + “Is it not the hour?” + </p> + <p> + Cesaire replied: + </p> + <p> + “I am much afraid it is.” + </p> + <p> + “Come on! Let us start,” said another. + </p> + <p> + Those rose up. Then Cesaire, whom a feeling of uneasiness had taken + possession of, climbed up the ladder of the loft to see whether his father + was ready. The old man, always as a rule an early riser, had not yet made + his appearance. His son found him on his bed of straw, wrapped up in his + blanket, with his eyes open and a malicious gleam in them. + </p> + <p> + He bawled into his ear: “Come, daddy, get up. It's time for the + wedding.” + </p> + <p> + The deaf man murmured-in a doleful tone: + </p> + <p> + “I can't get up. I have a sort of chill over me that freezes my + back. I can't stir.” + </p> + <p> + The young man, dumbfounded, stared at him, guessing that this was a dodge. + </p> + <p> + “Come, daddy; you must make an effort.” + </p> + <p> + “I can't do it.” + </p> + <p> + “Look here! I'll help you.” + </p> + <p> + And he stooped toward the old man, pulled off his blanket, caught him by + the arm and lifted him up. But old Amable began to whine, “Ooh! ooh! + ooh! What suffering! Ooh! I can't. My back is stiffened up. The cold wind + must have rushed in through this cursed roof.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you'll get no dinner, as I'm having a spread at Polyte's inn. + This will teach you what comes of acting mulishly.” + </p> + <p> + And he hurried down the ladder and started out, accompanied by his + relatives and guests. + </p> + <p> + The men had turned up the bottoms of their trousers so as not to get them + wet in the snow. The women held up their petticoats and showed their lean + ankles with gray woollen stockings and their bony shanks resembling + broomsticks. And they all moved forward with a swinging gait, one behind + the other, without uttering a word, moving cautiously, for fear of losing + the road which was-hidden beneath the flat, uniform, uninterrupted stretch + of snow. + </p> + <p> + As they approached the farmhouses they saw one or two persons waiting to + join them, and the procession went on without stopping and wound its way + forward, following the invisible outlines of the road, so that it + resembled a living chaplet of black beads undulating through the white + countryside. + </p> + <p> + In front of the bride's door a large group was stamping up and down the + open space awaiting the bridegroom. When he appeared they gave him a loud + greeting, and presently Celeste came forth from her room, clad in a blue + dress, her shoulders covered with a small red shawl and her head adorned + with orange flowers. + </p> + <p> + But every one asked Cesaire: + </p> + <p> + “Where's your father?” + </p> + <p> + He replied with embarrassment: + </p> + <p> + “He couldn't move on account of the pains.” + </p> + <p> + And the farmers tossed their heads with a sly, incredulous air. + </p> + <p> + They directed their steps toward the mayor's office. Behind the pair about + to be wedded a peasant woman carried Victor's child, as if it were going + to be baptized; and the peasants, in pairs now, with arms linked, + walked through the snow with the movements of a sloop at sea. + </p> + <p> + After having been united by the mayor in the little municipal house the + pair were made one by the cure, in his turn, in the modest house of God. + He blessed their union by promising them fruitfulness, then he preached to + them on the matrimonial virtues, the simple and healthful virtues of the + country, work, concord and fidelity, while the child, who was cold, began + to fret behind the bride. + </p> + <p> + As soon as the couple reappeared on the threshold of the church shots were + discharged from the ditch of the cemetery. Only the barrels of the guns + could be seen whence came forth rapid jets of smoke; then a head could be + seen gazing at the procession. It was Victor Lecoq celebrating the + marriage of his old sweetheart, wishing her happiness and sending her his + good wishes with explosions of powder. He had employed some friends of + his, five or six laboring men, for these salvos of musketry. It was + considered a nice attention. + </p> + <p> + The repast was given in Polyte Cacheprune's inn. Twenty covers were laid + in the great hall where people dined on market days, and the big leg of + mutton turning before the spit, the fowls browned under their own gravy, + the chitterlings sputtering over the bright, clear fire filled the house + with a thick odor of live coal sprinkled with fat—the powerful, + heavy odor of rustic fare. + </p> + <p> + They sat down to table at midday and the soup was poured at once into the + plates. All faces had already brightened up; mouths opened to utter loud + jokes and eyes were laughing with knowing winks. They were going to amuse + themselves and no mistake. + </p> + <p> + The door opened, and old Amable appeared. He seemed in a bad humor and his + face wore a scowl as he dragged himself forward on his sticks, whining at + every step to indicate his suffering. As soon as they saw him they stopped + talking, but suddenly his neighbor, Daddy Malivoire, a big joker, who knew + all the little tricks and ways of people, began to yell, just as Cesaire + used to do, by making a speaking-trumpet of his hands. + </p> + <p> + “Hallo, my cute old boy, you have a good nose on you to be able to + smell Polyte's cookery from your own house!” + </p> + <p> + A roar of laughter burst forth from the throats of those present. + Malivoire, excited by his success, went on: + </p> + <p> + “There's nothing for the rheumatics like a chitterling poultice! It + keeps your belly warm, along with a glass of three-six!” + </p> + <p> + The men uttered shouts, banged the table with their fists, laughed, + bending on one side and raising up their bodies again as if they were + working a pump. The women clucked like hens, while the servants wriggled, + standing against the walls. Old Amable was the only one that did not + laugh, and, without making any reply, waited till they made room for him. + </p> + <p> + They found a place for him in the middle of the table, facing his + daughter-in-law, and, as soon as he was seated, he began to eat. It was + his son who was paying, after all; it was right he should take his share. + With each ladleful of soup that went into his stomach, with each mouthful + of bread or meat crushed between his gums, with each glass of cider or + wine that flowed through his gullet he thought he was regaining something + of his own property, getting back a little of his money which all those + gluttons were devouring, saving in fact a portion of his own means. And he + ate in silence with the obstinacy of a miser who hides his coppers, with + the same gloomy persistence with which he formerly performed his daily + labors. + </p> + <p> + But all of a sudden he noticed at the end of the table Celeste's child on + a woman's lap, and his eye remained fixed on the little boy. He went on + eating, with his glance riveted on the youngster, into whose mouth the + woman who minded him every now and then put a little morsel which he + nibbled at. And the old man suffered more from the few mouthfuls sucked by + this little chap than from all that the others swallowed. + </p> + <p> + The meal lasted till evening. Then every one went back home. + </p> + <p> + Cesaire raised up old Amable. + </p> + <p> + “Come, daddy, we must go home,” said he. + </p> + <p> + And he put the old man's two sticks in his hands. + </p> + <p> + Celeste took her child in her arms, and they went on slowly through the + pale night whitened by the snow. The deaf old man, three-fourths tipsy, + and even more malicious under the influence of drink, refused to go + forward. Several times he even sat down with the object of making his + daughter-in-law catch cold, and he kept whining, without uttering a word, + giving vent to a sort of continuous groaning as if he were in pain. + </p> + <p> + When they reached home he at once climbed up to his loft, while Cesaire + made a bed for the child near the deep niche where he was going to lie + down with his wife. But as the newly wedded pair could not sleep + immediately, they heard the old man for a long time moving about on his + bed of straw, and he even talked aloud several times, whether it was that + he was dreaming or that he let his thoughts escape through his mouth, in + spite of himself, not being able to keep them back, under the obsession of + a fixed idea. + </p> + <p> + When he came down his ladder next morning he saw his daughter-in-law + looking after the housekeeping. + </p> + <p> + She cried out to him: + </p> + <p> + “Come, daddy, hurry on! Here's some good soup.” + </p> + <p> + And she placed at the end of the table the round black earthen bowl filled + with steaming liquid. He sat down without giving any answer, seized the + hot bowl, warmed his hands with it in his customary fashion, and, as it + was very cold, even pressed it against his breast to try to make a little + of the living heat of the boiling liquid enter into him, into his old body + stiffened by so many winters. + </p> + <p> + Then he took his sticks and went out into the fields, covered with ice, + till it was time for dinner, for he had seen Celeste's youngster still + asleep in a big soap-box. + </p> + <p> + He did not take his place in the household. He lived in the thatched + house, as in bygone days, but he seemed not to belong to it any longer, to + be no longer interested in anything, to look upon those people, his son, + the wife and the child as strangers whom he did not know, to whom he never + spoke. + </p> + <p> + The winter glided by. It was long and severe. + </p> + <p> + Then the early spring made the seeds sprout forth again, and the peasants + once more, like laborious ants, passed their days in the fields, toiling + from morning till night, under the wind and under the rain, along the + furrows of brown earth which brought forth the bread of men. + </p> + <p> + The year promised well for the newly married pair. The crops grew thick + and strong. There were no late frosts, and the apples bursting into bloom + scattered on the grass their rosy white snow which promised a hail of + fruit for the autumn. + </p> + <p> + Cesaire toiled hard, rose early and left off work late, in order to save + the expense of a hired man. + </p> + <p> + His wife said to him sometimes: + </p> + <p> + “You'll make yourself ill in the long run.” + </p> + <p> + He replied: + </p> + <p> + “Certainly not. I'm a good judge.” + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless one evening he came home so fatigued that he had to get to + bed without supper. He rose up next morning at the usual hour, but he + could not eat, in spite of his fast on the previous night, and he had to + come back to the house in the middle of the afternoon in order to go to + bed again. In the course of the night he began to cough; he turned round + on his straw couch, feverish, with his forehead burning, his tongue dry + and his throat parched by a burning thirst. + </p> + <p> + However, at daybreak he went toward his grounds, but next morning the + doctor had to be sent for and pronounced him very ill with inflammation of + the lungs. + </p> + <p> + And he no longer left the dark recess in which he slept. He could be heard + coughing, gasping and tossing about in this hole. In order to see him, to + give his medicine and to apply cupping-glasses they had to-bring a candle + to the entrance. Then one could see his narrow head with his long matted + beard underneath a thick lacework of spiders' webs, which hung and floated + when stirred by the air. And the hands of the sick man seemed dead under + the dingy sheets. + </p> + <p> + Celeste watched him with restless activity, made him take physic, applied + blisters to him, went back and forth in the house, while old Amable + remained at the edge of his loft, watching at a distance the gloomy cavern + where his son lay dying. He did not come near him, through hatred of the + wife, sulking like an ill-tempered dog. + </p> + <p> + Six more days passed, then one morning, as Celeste, who now slept on the + ground on two loose bundles of straw, was going to see whether her man was + better, she no longer heard his rapid breathing from the interior of his + recess. Terror stricken, she asked: + </p> + <p> + “Well Cesaire, what sort of a night had you?” + </p> + <p> + He did not answer. She put out her hand to touch him, and the flesh on his + face felt cold as ice. She uttered a great cry, the long cry of a woman + overpowered with fright. He was dead. + </p> + <p> + At this cry the deaf old man appeared at the top of his ladder, and when + he saw Celeste rushing to call for help, he quickly descended, placed his + hand on his son's face, and suddenly realizing what had happened, went to + shut the door from the inside, to prevent the wife from re-entering and + resuming possession of the dwelling, since his son was no longer living. + </p> + <p> + Then he sat down on a chair by the dead man's side. + </p> + <p> + Some of the neighbors arrived, called out and knocked. He did not hear + them. One of them broke the glass of the window and jumped into the room. + Others followed. The door was opened again and Celeste reappeared, all in + tears, with swollen face and bloodshot eyes. Then old Amable, vanquished, + without uttering a word, climbed back to his loft. + </p> + <p> + The funeral took place next morning. Then, after the ceremony, the + father-in-law and the daughter-in-law found themselves alone in the + farmhouse with the child. + </p> + <p> + It was the usual dinner hour. She lighted the fire, made some soup and + placed the plates on the table, while the old man sat on the chair waiting + without appearing to look at her. When the meal was ready she bawled in + his ear— + </p> + <p> + “Come, daddy, you must eat.” He rose up, took his seat at the + end of the table, emptied his soup bowl, masticated his bread and butter, + drank his two glasses of cider and then took himself off. + </p> + <p> + It was one of those warm days, one of those enjoyable days when life + ferments, pulsates, blooms all over the surface of the soil. + </p> + <p> + Old Amable pursued a little path across the fields. He looked at the young + wheat and the young oats, thinking that his son was now under the earth, + his poor boy! He walked along wearily, dragging his legs after him in a + limping fashion. And, as he was all alone in the plain, all alone under + the blue sky, in the midst of the growing crops, all alone with the larks + which he saw hovering above his head, without hearing their light song, he + began to weep as he proceeded on his way. + </p> + <p> + Then he sat down beside a pond and remained there till evening, gazing at + the little birds that came there to drink. Then, as the night was falling, + he returned to the house, supped without saying a word and climbed up to + his loft. And his life went on as in the past. Nothing was changed, except + that his son Cesaire slept in the cemetery. + </p> + <p> + What could he, an old man, do? He could work no longer; he was now good + for nothing except to swallow the soup prepared by his daughter-in-law. + And he ate it in silence, morning and evening, watching with an eye of + rage the little boy also taking soup, right opposite him, at the other + side of the table. Then he would go out, prowl about the fields after the + fashion of a vagabond, hiding behind the barns where he would sleep for an + hour or two as if he were afraid of being seen and then come back at the + approach of night. + </p> + <p> + But Celeste's mind began to be occupied by graver anxieties. The farm + needed a man to look after it and cultivate it. Somebody should be there + always to go through the fields, not a mere hired laborer, but a regular + farmer, a master who understood the business and would take an interest in + the farm. A lone woman could not manage the farming, watch the price of + corn and direct the sale and purchase of cattle. Then ideas came into her + head, simple practical ideas, which she had turned over in her head at + night. She could not marry again before the end of the year, and it was + necessary at once to take care of pressing interests, immediate interests. + </p> + <p> + Only one man could help her out of her difficulties, Victor Lecoq, the + father of her child. He was strong and understood farming; with a little + money in his pocket he would make an excellent cultivator. She was aware + of his skill, having known him while he was working on her parents' farm. + </p> + <p> + So one morning, seeing him passing along the road with a cart of manure, + she went out to meet him. When he perceived her, he drew up his horses and + she said to him as if she had met him the night before: + </p> + <p> + “Good-morrow, Victor—are you quite well, the same as ever?” + </p> + <p> + He replied: + </p> + <p> + “I'm quite well, the same as ever—and how are you?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I'd be all right, only that I'm alone in the house, which + bothers me on account of the farm.” + </p> + <p> + Then they remained chatting for a long time, leaning against the wheel of + the heavy cart. The man every now and then lifted up his cap to scratch + his forehead and began thinking, while she, with flushed cheeks, went on + talking warmly, told him about her views, her plans; her projects for the + future. At last he said in a low tone: + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it can be done.” + </p> + <p> + She opened her hand like a countryman clinching a bargain and asked: + </p> + <p> + “Is it agreed?” + </p> + <p> + He pressed her outstretched hand. + </p> + <p> + “'Tis agreed.” + </p> + <p> + “It's settled, then, for next Sunday?” + </p> + <p> + “It's settled for next Sunday” + </p> + <p> + “Well, good-morning, Victor.” + </p> + <p> + “Good-morning, Madame Houlbreque.” + </p> +<div class='pre'> + PART III +</div> + <p> + This particular Sunday was the day of the village festival, the annual + festival in honor of the patron saint, which in Normandy is called the + assembly. + </p> + <p> + For the last eight days quaint-looking vehicles in which live the families + of strolling fair exhibitors, lottery managers, keepers of shooting + galleries and other forms of amusement or exhibitors of curiosities whom + the peasants call “wonder-makers” could be seen coming along + the roads drawn slowly by gray or sorrel horses. + </p> + <p> + The dirty wagons with their floating curtains, accompanied by a + melancholy-looking dog, who trotted, with his head down, between the + wheels, drew up one after the other on the green in front of the town + hall. Then a tent was erected in front of each ambulant abode, and inside + this tent could be seen, through the holes in the canvas, glittering + things which excited the envy or the curiosity of the village youngsters. + </p> + <p> + As soon as the morning of the fete arrived all the booths were opened, + displaying their splendors of glass or porcelain, and the peasants on + their way to mass looked with genuine satisfaction at these modest shops + which they saw again, nevertheless, each succeeding year. + </p> + <p> + Early in the afternoon there was a crowd on the green. From every + neighboring village the farmers arrived, shaken along with their wives and + children in the two-wheeled open chars-a-bancs, which rattled along, + swaying like cradles. They unharnessed at their friends' houses and the + farmyards were filled with strange-looking traps, gray, high, lean, + crooked, like long-clawed creatures from the depths of the sea. And each + family, with the youngsters in front and the grown-up ones behind, came to + the assembly with tranquil steps, smiling countenances and open hands, big + hands, red and bony, accustomed to work and apparently tired of their + temporary rest. + </p> + <p> + A clown was blowing a trumpet. The barrel-organ accompanying the carrousel + sent through the air its shrill jerky notes. The lottery-wheel made a + whirring sound like that of cloth tearing, and every moment the crack of + the rifle could be heard. And the slow-moving throng passed on quietly in + front of the booths resembling paste in a fluid condition, with the + motions of a flock of sheep and the awkwardness of heavy animals who had + escaped by chance. + </p> + <p> + The girls, holding one another's arms in groups of six or eight, were + singing; the youths followed them, making jokes, with their caps over + their ears and their blouses stiffened with starch, swollen out like blue + balloons. + </p> + <p> + The whole countryside was there—masters, laboring men and women + servants. + </p> + <p> + Old Amable himself, wearing his old-fashioned green frock coat, had wished + to see the assembly, for he never failed to attend on such an occasion. + </p> + <p> + He looked at the lotteries, stopped in front of the shooting galleries to + criticize the shots and interested himself specially in a very simple game + which consisted in throwing a big wooden ball into the open mouth of a + mannikin carved and painted on a board. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly he felt a tap on his shoulder. It was Daddy Malivoire, who + exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “Ha, daddy! Come and have a glass of brandy.” + </p> + <p> + And they sat down at the table of an open-air restaurant. + </p> + <p> + They drank one glass of brandy, then two, then three, and old Amable once + more began wandering through the assembly. His thoughts became slightly + confused, he smiled without knowing why, he smiled in front of the + lotteries, in front of the wooden horses and especially in front of the + killing game. He remained there a long time, filled with delight, when he + saw a holiday-maker knocking down the gendarme or the cure, two + authorities whom he instinctively distrusted. Then he went back to the inn + and drank a glass of cider to cool himself. It was late, night came on. A + neighbor came to warn him: + </p> + <p> + “You'll get back home late for the stew, daddy.” + </p> + <p> + Then he set out on his way to the farmhouse. A soft shadow, the warm + shadow of a spring night, was slowly descending on the earth. + </p> + <p> + When he reached the front door he thought he saw through the window which + was lighted up two persons in the house. He stopped, much surprised, then + he went in, and he saw Victor Lecoq seated at the table, with a plate + filled with potatoes before him, taking his supper in the very same place + where his son had sat. + </p> + <p> + And he turned round suddenly as if he wanted to go away. The night was + very dark now. Celeste started up and shouted at him: + </p> + <p> + “Come quick, daddy! Here's some good stew to finish off the assembly + with.” + </p> + <p> + He complied through inertia and sat down, watching in turn the man, the + woman and the child. Then he began to eat quietly as on ordinary days. + </p> + <p> + Victor Lecoq seemed quite at home, talked from time to time to Celeste, + took up the child in his lap and kissed him. And Celeste again served him + with food, poured out drink for him and appeared happy while speaking to + him. Old Amable's eyes followed them attentively, though he could not hear + what they were saying. + </p> + <p> + When he had finished supper (and he had scarcely eaten anything, there was + such a weight at his heart) he rose up, and instead of ascending to his + loft as he did every night he opened the gate of the yard and went out + into the open air. + </p> + <p> + When he had gone, Celeste, a little uneasy, asked: + </p> + <p> + “What is he going to do?” + </p> + <p> + Victor replied in an indifferent tone: + </p> + <p> + “Don't bother yourself. He'll come back when he's tired.” + </p> + <p> + Then she saw after the house, washed the plates and wiped the table, while + the man quietly took off his clothes. Then he slipped into the dark and + hollow bed in which she had slept with Cesaire. + </p> + <p> + The yard gate opened and old Amable again appeared. As soon as he entered + the house he looked round on every side with the air of an old dog on the + scent. He was in search of Victor Lecoq. As he did not see him, he took + the candle off the table and approached the dark niche in which his son + had died. In the interior of it he perceived the man lying under the bed + clothes and already asleep. Then the deaf man noiselessly turned round, + put back the candle and went out into the yard. + </p> + <p> + Celeste had finished her work. She put her son into his bed, arranged + everything and waited for her father-in-law's return before lying down + herself. + </p> + <p> + She remained sitting on a chair, without moving her hands and with her + eyes fixed on vacancy. + </p> + <p> + As he did not come back, she murmured in a tone of impatience and + annoyance: + </p> + <p> + “This good-for-nothing old man will make us burn four sous' worth of + candles.” + </p> + <p> + Victor answered from under the bed clothes: + </p> + <p> + “It's over an hour since he went out. We ought to see whether he + fell asleep on the bench outside the door.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll go and see,” she said. + </p> + <p> + She rose up, took the light and went out, shading the light with her hand + in order to see through the darkness. + </p> + <p> + She saw nothing in front of the door, nothing on the bench, nothing on the + dung heap, where the old man used sometimes to sit in hot weather. + </p> + <p> + But, just as she was on the point of going in again, she chanced to raise + her eyes toward the big apple tree, which sheltered the entrance to the + farmyard, and suddenly she saw two feet—two feet at the height of + her face belonging to a man who was hanging. + </p> + <p> + She uttered terrible cries: + </p> + <p> + “Victor! Victor! Victor!” + </p> + <p> + He ran out in his shirt. She could not utter another word, and turning + aside her head so as not to see, she pointed toward the tree with her + outstretched arm. + </p> + <p> + Not understanding what she meant, he took the candle in order to find out, + and in the midst of the foliage lit up from below he saw old Amable + hanging high up with a stable-halter round his neck. + </p> + <p> + A ladder was leaning against the trunk of the apple tree. + </p> + <p> + Victor ran to fetch a bill-hook, climbed up the tree and cut the halter. + But the old man was already cold and his tongue protruded horribly with a + frightful grimace. + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0149"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + ORIGINAL SHORT STORIES, Vol. 10. + </h2> +<div class='pre'> + GUY DE MAUPASSANT + ORIGINAL SHORT STORIES + Translated by + ALBERT M. C. McMASTER, B.A. + A. E. HENDERSON, B.A. + MME. QUESADA and Others +</div> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0150"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + VOLUME X. + </h2> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0151"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + THE CHRISTENING + </h2> + <div class='ph3'> + “Well doctor, a little brandy?” + </div> + <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 id="2H_4_0152"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + THE FARMER'S WIFE + </h2> + <div class='ph3'> + Said the Baron Rene du Treilles to me: + </div> + <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> +<div class='pre'> + “'TO LOUISE HORTENSE MARINET, + “'Wife of Jean-Francois Lebrument, Farmer, + “'SHE WAS A FAITHFUL WIFE. GOD REST HER SOUL.' +</div> + <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 id="2H_4_0153"> + <!-- 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, old was an old washerwoman, watched the dead and the dying of + the neighborhood, and then, as soon as she had sewn her customers into + that linen cloth from which they would emerge no more, she went and took + up her iron to smooth out the linen of the living. Wrinkled like a last + year's apple, spiteful, envious, avaricious with a phenomenal avarice, + bent double, as if she had been broken in half across the loins by the + constant motion of passing the iron over the linen, one might have said + that she had a kind of abnormal and cynical love of a death struggle. She + never spoke of anything but of the people she had seen die, of the various + kinds of deaths at which she had been present, and she related with the + greatest minuteness details which were always similar, just as a sportsman + recounts his luck. + </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 cut every now and then. The acolyte, in his red cassock, + walked quickly, and the priest, with his head inclined toward one shoulder + and his square biretta on his head, followed him, muttering some prayers; + while last of all came La Rapet, bent almost double as if she wished to + prostrate herself, as she walked with folded hands as they do in church. + </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 id="2H_4_0154"> + <!-- 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 id="2H_4_0155"> + <!-- 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> +<div class='pre'> + “'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.'” + </div> + <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 id="2H_4_0156"> + <!-- 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 id="2H_4_0157"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + AT SEA + </h2> + <div class='ph3'> + The following paragraphs recently appeared in the papers: + </div> + <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 id="2H_4_0158"> + <!-- 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 id="2H_4_0159"> + <!-- 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 id="2H_4_0160"> + <!-- 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 id="2H_4_0161"> + <!-- 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 id="2H_4_0162"> + <!-- 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 id="2H_4_0163"> + <!-- 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 id="2H_4_0164"> + <!-- 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 id="2H_4_0165"> + <!-- 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> + <a id="2H_4_0166"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + ORIGINAL SHORT STORIES, Vol. 11. + </h2> +<div class='pre'> + GUY DE MAUPASSANT + ORIGINAL SHORT STORIES + Translated by + ALBERT M. C. McMASTER, B.A. + A. E. HENDERSON, B.A. + MME. QUESADA and Others +</div> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0167"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + VOLUME XI. + </h2> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0168"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + THE UMBRELLA + </h2> + <p> + Mme. Oreille was a very economical woman; she knew the value of a centime, + and possessed a whole storehouse of strict principles with regard to the + multiplication of money, so that her cook found the greatest difficulty in + making what the servants call their market-penny, and her husband was + hardly allowed any pocket money at all. They were, however, very + comfortably off, and had no children; but it really pained Mme. Oreille to + see any money spent; it was like tearing at her heartstrings when she had + to take any of those nice crown-pieces out of her pocket; and whenever she + had to spend anything, no matter how necessary it might be, she slept + badly the next night. + </p> + <p> + Oreille was continually saying to his wife: + </p> + <p> + “You really might be more liberal, as we have no children, and never + spend our income.” + </p> + <p> + “You don't know what may happen,” she used to reply. “It + is better to have too much than too little.” + </p> + <p> + She was a little woman of about forty, very active, rather hasty, + wrinkled, very neat and tidy, and with a very short temper. + </p> + <p> + Her husband frequently complained of all the privations she made him + endure; some of them were particularly painful to him, as they touched his + vanity. + </p> + <p> + He was one of the head clerks in the War Office, and only stayed on there + in obedience to his wife's wish, to increase their income which they did + not nearly spend. + </p> + <p> + For two years he had always come to the office with the same old patched + umbrella, to the great amusement of his fellow clerks. At last he got + tired of their jokes, and insisted upon his wife buying him a new one. She + bought one for eight francs and a half, one of those cheap articles which + large houses sell as an advertisement. When the men in the office saw the + article, which was being sold in Paris by the thousand, they began their + jokes again, and Oreille had a dreadful time of it. They even made a song + about it, which he heard from morning till night all over the immense + building. + </p> + <p> + Oreille was very angry, and peremptorily told his wife to get him a new + one, a good silk one, for twenty francs, and to bring him the bill, so + that he might see that it was all right. + </p> + <p> + She bought him one for eighteen francs, and said, getting red with anger + as she gave it to her husband: + </p> + <p> + “This will last you for five years at least.” + </p> + <p> + Oreille felt quite triumphant, and received a small ovation at the office + with his new acquisition. + </p> + <p> + When he went home in the evening his wife said to him, looking at the + umbrella uneasily: + </p> + <p> + “You should not leave it fastened up with the elastic; it will very + likely cut the silk. You must take care of it, for I shall not buy you a + new one in a hurry.” + </p> + <p> + She took it, unfastened it, and remained dumfounded with astonishment and + rage; in the middle of the silk there was a hole as big as a + six-penny-piece; it had been made with the end of a cigar. + </p> + <p> + “What is that?” she screamed. + </p> + <p> + Her husband replied quietly, without looking at it: + </p> + <p> + “What is it? What do you mean?” + </p> + <p> + She was choking with rage, and could hardly get out a word. + </p> + <p> + “You—you—have—burned—your umbrella! Why—you + must be—mad! Do you wish to ruin us outright?” + </p> + <p> + He turned round, and felt that he was growing pale. + </p> + <p> + “What are you talking about?” + </p> + <p> + “I say that you have burned your umbrella. Just look here.” + </p> + <p> + And rushing at him, as if she were going to beat him, she violently thrust + the little circular burned hole under his nose. + </p> + <p> + He was so utterly struck dumb at the sight of it that he could only + stammer out: + </p> + <p> + “What-what is it? How should I know? I have done nothing, I will + swear. I don't know what is the matter with the umbrella.” + </p> + <p> + “You have been playing tricks with it at the office; you have been + playing the fool and opening it, to show it off!” she screamed. + </p> + <p> + “I only opened it once, to let them see what a nice one it was, that + is all, I swear.” + </p> + <p> + But she shook with rage, and got up one of those conjugal scenes which + make a peaceable man dread the domestic hearth more than a battlefield + where bullets are raining. + </p> + <p> + She mended it with a piece of silk cut out of the old umbrella, which was + of a different color, and the next day Oreille went off very humbly with + the mended article in his hand. He put it into a cupboard, and thought no + more of it than of some unpleasant recollection. + </p> + <p> + But he had scarcely got home that evening when his wife took the umbrella + from him, opened it, and nearly had a fit when she saw what had befallen + it, for the disaster was irreparable. It was covered with small holes, + which evidently proceeded from burns, just as if some one had emptied the + ashes from a lighted pipe on to it. It was done for utterly, irreparably. + </p> + <p> + She looked at it without a word, in too great a passion to be able to say + anything. He, also, when he saw the damage, remained almost dumfounded, in + a state of frightened consternation. + </p> + <p> + They looked at each other, then he looked at the floor; and the next + moment she threw the useless article at his head, screaming out in a + transport of the most violent rage, for she had recovered her voice by + that time: + </p> + <p> + “Oh! you brute! you brute! You did it on purpose, but I will pay you + out for it. You shall not have another.” + </p> + <p> + And then the scene began again, and after the storm had raged for an hour, + he at last was able to explain himself. He declared that he could not + understand it at all, and that it could only proceed from malice or from + vengeance. + </p> + <p> + A ring at the bell saved him; it was a friend whom they were expecting to + dinner. + </p> + <p> + Mme. Oreille submitted the case to him. As for buying a new umbrella, that + was out of the question; her husband should not have another. The friend + very sensibly said that in that case his clothes would be spoiled, and + they were certainly worth more than the umbrella. But the little woman, + who was still in a rage, replied: + </p> + <p> + “Very well, then, when it rains he may have the kitchen umbrella, + for I will not give him a new silk one.” + </p> + <p> + Oreille utterly rebelled at such an idea. + </p> + <p> + “All right,” he said; “then I shall resign my post. I am + not going to the office with the kitchen umbrella.” + </p> + <p> + The friend interposed. + </p> + <p> + “Have this one re-covered; it will not cost much.” + </p> + <p> + But Mme. Oreille, being in the temper that she was, said: + </p> + <p> + “It will cost at least eight francs to re-cover it. Eight and + eighteen are twenty-six. Just fancy, twenty-six francs for an umbrella! It + is utter madness!” + </p> + <p> + The friend, who was only a poor man of the middle classes, had an + inspiration: + </p> + <p> + “Make your fire assurance pay for it. The companies pay for all + articles that are burned, as long as the damage has been done in your own + house.” + </p> + <p> + On hearing this advice the little woman calmed down immediately, and then, + after a moment's reflection, she said to her husband: + </p> + <p> + “To-morrow, before going to your office, you will go to the + Maternelle Assurance Company, show them the state your umbrella is in, and + make them pay for the damage.” + </p> + <p> + M. Oreille fairly jumped, he was so startled at the proposal. + </p> + <p> + “I would not do it for my life! It is eighteen francs lost, that is + all. It will not ruin us.” + </p> + <p> + The next morning he took a walking-stick when he went out, and, luckily, + it was a fine day. + </p> + <p> + Left at home alone, Mme. Oreille could not get over the loss of her + eighteen francs by any means. She had put the umbrella on the dining-room + table, and she looked at it without being able to come to any + determination. + </p> + <p> + Every moment she thought of the assurance company, but she did not dare to + encounter the quizzical looks of the gentlemen who might receive her, for + she was very timid before people, and blushed at a mere nothing, and was + embarrassed when she had to speak to strangers. + </p> + <p> + But the regret at the loss of the eighteen francs pained her as if she had + been wounded. She tried not to think of it any more, and yet every moment + the recollection of the loss struck her painfully. What was she to do, + however? Time went on, and she could not decide; but suddenly, like all + cowards, on making a resolve, she became determined. + </p> + <p> + “I will go, and we will see what will happen.” + </p> + <p> + But first of all she was obliged to prepare the umbrella so that the + disaster might be complete, and the reason of it quite evident. She took a + match from the mantelpiece, and between the ribs she burned a hole as big + as the palm of her hand; then she delicately rolled it up, fastened it + with the elastic band, put on her bonnet and shawl, and went quickly + toward the Rue de Rivoli, where the assurance office was. + </p> + <p> + But the nearer she got, the slower she walked. What was she going to say, + and what reply would she get? + </p> + <p> + She looked at the numbers of the houses; there were still twenty-eight. + That was all right, so she had time to consider, and she walked slower and + slower. Suddenly she saw a door on which was a large brass plate with + “La Maternelle Fire Assurance Office” engraved on it. Already! + She waited a moment, for she felt nervous and almost ashamed; then she + walked past, came back, walked past again, and came back again. + </p> + <p> + At last she said to herself: + </p> + <p> + “I must go in, however, so I may as well do it sooner as later.” + </p> + <p> + She could not help noticing, however, how her heart beat as she entered. + She went into an enormous room with grated doors all round it, and above + them little openings at which a man's head appeared, and as a gentleman + carrying a number of papers passed her, she stopped him and said timidly: + “I beg your pardon, monsieur, but can you tell me where I must apply + for payment for anything that has been accidentally burned?” + </p> + <p> + He replied in a sonorous voice: + </p> + <p> + “The first door on the left; that is the department you want.” + </p> + <p> + This frightened her still more, and she felt inclined to run away, to put + in no claim, to sacrifice her eighteen francs. But the idea of that sum + revived her courage, and she went upstairs, out of breath, stopping at + almost every other step. + </p> + <p> + She knocked at a door which she saw on the first landing, and a clear + voice said, in answer: + </p> + <p> + “Come in!” + </p> + <p> + She obeyed mechanically, and found herself in a large room where three + solemn gentlemen, all with a decoration in their buttonholes, were + standing talking. + </p> + <p> + One of them asked her: “What do you want, madame?” + </p> + <p> + She could hardly get out her words, but stammered: “I have come—I + have come on account of an accident, something—“. + </p> + <p> + He very politely pointed out a seat to her, + </p> + <p> + “If you will kindly sit down I will attend to you in a moment.” + </p> + <p> + And, returning to the other two, he went on with the conversation. + </p> + <p> + “The company, gentlemen, does not consider that it is under any + obligation to you for more than four hundred thousand francs, and we can + pay no attention to your claim to the further sum of a hundred thousand, + which you wish to make us pay. Besides that, the surveyor's valuation—” + </p> + <p> + One of the others interrupted him: + </p> + <p> + “That is quite enough, monsieur; the law courts will decide between + us, and we have nothing further to do than to take our leave.” And + they went out after mutual ceremonious bows. + </p> + <p> + Oh! if she could only have gone away with them, how gladly she would have + done it; she would have run away and given up everything. But it was too + late, for the gentleman came back, and said, bowing: + </p> + <p> + “What can I do for you, madame?” + </p> + <p> + She could scarcely speak, but at last she managed to say: + </p> + <p> + “I have come-for this.” + </p> + <p> + The manager looked at the object which she held out to him in mute + astonishment. + </p> + <p> + With trembling fingers she tried to undo the elastic, and succeeding, + after several attempts, she hastily opened the damaged remains of the + umbrella. + </p> + <p> + “It looks to me to be in a very bad state of health,” he said + compassionately. + </p> + <p> + “It cost me twenty francs,” she said, with some hesitation. + </p> + <p> + He seemed astonished. “Really! As much as that?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it was a capital article, and I wanted you to see the + condition it is in.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes, I see; very well. But I really do not understand what it + can have to do with me.” + </p> + <p> + She began to feel uncomfortable; perhaps this company did not pay for such + small articles, and she said: + </p> + <p> + “But—it is burned.” + </p> + <p> + He could not deny it. + </p> + <p> + “I see that very well,” he replied. + </p> + <p> + She remained open-mouthed, not knowing what to say next; then, suddenly + recollecting that she had left out the main thing, she said hastily: + </p> + <p> + “I am Mme. Oreille; we are assured in La Maternelle, and I have come + to claim the value of this damage.” + </p> + <p> + “I only want you to have it re-covered,” she added quickly, + fearing a positive refusal. + </p> + <p> + The manager was rather embarrassed, and said: “But, really, madame, + we do not sell umbrellas; we cannot undertake such kinds of repairs.” + </p> + <p> + The little woman felt her courage reviving; she was not going to give up + without a struggle; she was not even afraid any more, and said: + </p> + <p> + “I only want you to pay me the cost of repairing it; I can quite + well get it done myself.” + </p> + <p> + The gentleman seemed rather confused. + </p> + <p> + “Really, madame, it is such a very small matter! We are never asked + to give compensation for such trivial losses. You must allow that we + cannot make good pocket-handkerchiefs, gloves, brooms, slippers, all the + small articles which are every day exposed to the chances of being burned.” + </p> + <p> + She got red in the face, and felt inclined to fly into a rage. + </p> + <p> + “But, monsieur, last December one of our chimneys caught fire, and + caused at least five hundred francs' damage; M. Oreille made no claim on + the company, and so it is only just that it should pay for my umbrella + now.” + </p> + <p> + The manager, guessing that she was telling a lie, said, with a smile: + </p> + <p> + “You must acknowledge, madame, that it is very surprising that M. + Oreille should have asked no compensation for damages amounting to five + hundred francs, and should now claim five or six francs for mending an + umbrella.” + </p> + <p> + She was not the least put out, and replied: + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon, monsieur, the five hundred francs affected M. + Oreille's pocket, whereas this damage, amounting to eighteen francs, + concerns Mme. Oreille's pocket only, which is a totally different matter.” + </p> + <p> + As he saw that he had no chance of getting rid of her, and that he would + only be wasting his time, he said resignedly: + </p> + <p> + “Will you kindly tell me how the damage was done?” + </p> + <p> + She felt that she had won the victory, and said: + </p> + <p> + “This is how it happened, monsieur: In our hall there is a bronze + stick and umbrella stand, and the other day, when I came in, I put my + umbrella into it. I must tell you that just above there is a shelf for the + candlesticks and matches. I put out my hand, took three or four matches, + and struck one, but it missed fire, so I struck another, which ignited, + but went out immediately, and a third did the same.” + </p> + <p> + The manager interrupted her to make a joke. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose they were government matches, then?” + </p> + <p> + She did not understand him, and went on: + </p> + <p> + “Very likely. At any rate, the fourth caught fire, and I lit my + candle, and went into my room to go to bed; but in a quarter of an hour I + fancied that I smelt something burning, and I have always been terribly + afraid of fire. If ever we have an accident it will not be my fault, I + assure you. I am terribly nervous since our chimney was on fire, as I told + you; so I got up, and hunted about everywhere, sniffing like a dog after + game, and at last I noticed that my umbrella was burning. Most likely a + match had fallen between the folds and burned it. You can see how it has + damaged it.” + </p> + <p> + The manager had taken his cue, and asked her: “What do you estimate + the damage at?” + </p> + <p> + She did not know what to say, as she was not certain what value to put on + it, but at last she replied: + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps you had better get it done yourself. I will leave it to + you.” + </p> + <p> + He, however, naturally refused. + </p> + <p> + “No, madame, I cannot do that. Tell me the amount of your claim, + that is all I want to know.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I think that—Look here, monsieur, I do not want to make + any money out of you, so I will tell you what we will do. I will take my + umbrella to the maker, who will re-cover it in good, durable silk, and I + will bring the bill to you. Will that suit you, monsieur?” + </p> + <p> + “Perfectly, madame; we will settle it so. Here is a note for the + cashier, who will repay you whatever it costs you.” + </p> + <p> + He gave Mme. Oreille a slip of paper, who took it, got up and went out, + thanking him, for she was in a hurry to escape lest he should change his + mind. + </p> + <p> + She went briskly through the streets, looking out for a really good + umbrella maker, and when she found a shop which appeared to be a + first-class one, she went in, and said, confidently: + </p> + <p> + “I want this umbrella re-covered in silk, good silk. Use the very + best and strongest you have; I don't mind what it costs.” + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0169"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + BELHOMME'S BEAST + </h2> + <p> + The coach for Havre was ready to leave Criquetot, and all the passengers + were waiting for their names to be called out, in the courtyard of the + Commercial Hotel kept by Monsieur Malandain, Jr. + </p> + <p> + It was a yellow wagon, mounted on wheels which had once been yellow, but + were now almost gray through the accumulation of mud. The front wheels + were very small, the back ones, high and fragile, carried the large body + of the vehicle, which was swollen like the belly of an animal. Three white + horses, with enormous heads and great round knees, were the first things + one noticed. They were harnessed ready to draw this coach, which had + something of the appearance of a monster in its massive structure. The + horses seemed already asleep in front of the strange vehicle. + </p> + <p> + The driver, Cesaire Horlaville, a little man with a big paunch, supple + nevertheless, through his constant habit of climbing over the wheels to + the top of the wagon, his face all aglow from exposure to the brisk air of + the plains, to rain and storms, and also from the use of brandy, his eyes + twitching from the effect of constant contact with wind and hail, appeared + in the doorway of the hotel, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. + Large round baskets, full of frightened poultry, were standing in front of + the peasant women. Cesaire Horlaville took them one after the other and + packed them on the top of his coach; then more gently, he loaded on those + containing eggs; finally he tossed up from below several little bags of + grain, small packages wrapped in handkerchiefs, pieces of cloth, or paper. + Then he opened the back door, and drawing a list from his pocket he + called: + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur le cure de Gorgeville.” + </p> + <p> + The priest advanced. He was a large, powerful, robust man with a red face + and a genial expression. He hitched up his cassock to lift his foot, just + as the women hold up their skirts, and climbed into the coach. + </p> + <p> + “The schoolmaster of Rollebose-les-Grinets.” + </p> + <p> + The man hastened forward, tall, timid, wearing a long frock coat which + fell to his knees, and he in turn disappeared through the open door. + </p> + <p> + “Maitre Poiret, two seats.” + </p> + <p> + Poiret approached, a tall, round-shouldered man, bent by the plow, + emaciated through abstinence, bony, with a skin dried by a sparing use of + water. His wife followed him, small and thin, like a tired animal, + carrying a large green umbrella in her hands. + </p> + <p> + “Maitre Rabot, two seats.” + </p> + <p> + Rabot hesitated, being of an undecided nature. He asked: + </p> + <p> + “You mean me?” + </p> + <p> + The driver was going to answer with a jest, when Rabot dived head first + towards the door, pushed forward by a vigorous shove from his wife, a + tall, square woman with a large, round stomach like a barrel, and hands as + large as hams. + </p> + <p> + Rabot slipped into the wagon like a rat entering a hole. + </p> + <p> + “Maitre Caniveau.” + </p> + <p> + A large peasant, heavier than an ox, made the springs bend, and was in + turn engulfed in the interior of the yellow chest. + </p> + <p> + “Maitre Belhomme.” + </p> + <p> + Belhomme, tall and thin, came forward, his neck bent, his head hanging, a + handkerchief held to his ear as if he were suffering from a terrible + toothache. + </p> + <p> + All these people wore the blue blouse over quaint and antique coats of a + black or greenish cloth, Sunday clothes which they would only uncover in + the streets of Havre. Their heads were covered by silk caps at high as + towers, the emblem of supreme elegance in the small villages of Normandy. + </p> + <p> + Cesaire Horlaville closed the door, climbed up on his box and snapped his + whip. + </p> + <p> + The three horses awoke and, tossing their heads, shook their bells. + </p> + <p> + The driver then yelling “Get up!” as loud as he could, whipped + up his horses. They shook themselves, and, with an effort, started off at + a slow, halting gait. And behind them came the coach, rattling its shaky + windows and iron springs, making a terrible clatter of hardware and glass, + while the passengers were tossed hither and thither like so many rubber + balls. + </p> + <p> + At first all kept silent out of respect for the priest, that they might + not shock him. Being of a loquacious and genial disposition, he started + the conversation. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Maitre Caniveau,” said he, “how are you getting + along?” + </p> + <p> + The enormous farmer who, on account of his size, girth and stomach, felt a + bond of sympathy for the representative of the Church, answered with a + smile: + </p> + <p> + “Pretty well, Monsieur le cure, pretty well. And how are you?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! I'm always well and healthy.” + </p> + <p> + “And you, Maitre Poiret?” asked the abbe. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! I'd be all right only the colzas ain't a-goin' to give much + this year, and times are so hard that they are the only things worth while + raisin'.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, what can you expect? Times are hard.” + </p> + <p> + “Hub! I should say they were hard,” sounded the rather virile + voice of Rabot's big consort. + </p> + <p> + As she was from a neighboring village, the priest only knew her by name. + </p> + <p> + “Is that you, Blondel?” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I'm the one that married Rabot.” + </p> + <p> + Rabot, slender, timid, and self-satisfied, bowed smilingly, bending his + head forward as though to say: “Yes, I'm the Rabot whom Blondel + married.” + </p> + <p> + Suddenly Maitre Belhomme, still holding his handkerchief to his ear, began + groaning in a pitiful fashion. He was going “Oh-oh-oh!” and + stamping his foot in order to show his terrible suffering. + </p> + <p> + “You must have an awful toothache,” said the priest. + </p> + <p> + The peasant stopped moaning for a minute and answered: + </p> + <p> + “No, Monsieur le cure, it is not the teeth. It's my ear-away down at + the bottom of my ear.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, what have you got in your ear? A lump of wax?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know whether it's wax; but I know that it is a bug, a big + bug, that crawled in while I was asleep in the haystack.” + </p> + <p> + “A bug! Are you sure?” + </p> + <p> + “Am I sure? As sure as I am of heaven, Monsieur le cure! I can feel + it gnawing at the bottom of my ear! It's eating my head for sure! It's + eating my head! Oh-oh-oh!” And he began to stamp his foot again. + </p> + <p> + Great interest had been aroused among the spectators. Each one gave his + bit of advice. Poiret claimed that it was a spider, the teacher, thought + it might be a caterpillar. He had already seen such a thing once, at + Campemuret, in Orne, where he had been for six years. In this case the + caterpillar had gone through the head and out at the nose. But the man + remained deaf in that ear ever after, the drum having been pierced. + </p> + <p> + “It's more likely to be a worm,” said the priest. + </p> + <p> + Maitre Belhomme, his head resting against the door, for he had been the + last one to enter, was still moaning. + </p> + <p> + “Oh—oh—oh! I think it must be an ant, a big ant—there + it is biting again. Oh, Monsieur le cure, how it hurts! how it hurts!” + </p> + <p> + “Have you seen the doctor?” asked Caniveau. + </p> + <p> + “I should say not!” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” + </p> + <p> + The fear of the doctor seemed to cure Belhomme. He straightened up + without, however, dropping his handkerchief. + </p> + <p> + “What! You have money for them, for those loafers? He would have + come once, twice, three times, four times, five times! That means two + five-franc pieces, two five-franc pieces, for sure. And what would he have + done, the loafer, tell me, what would he have done? Can you tell me?” + </p> + <p> + Caniveau was laughing. + </p> + <p> + “No, I don't know. Where are you going?” + </p> + <p> + “I am going to Havre, to see Chambrelan.” + </p> + <p> + “Who is Chambrelan?” + </p> + <p> + “The healer, of course.” + </p> + <p> + “What healer?” + </p> + <p> + “The healer who cured my father.” + </p> + <p> + “Your father?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, the healer who cured my father years ago.” + </p> + <p> + “What was the matter with your father?” + </p> + <p> + “A draught caught him in the back, so that he couldn't move hand or + foot.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, what did your friend Chambrelan do to him?” + </p> + <p> + “He kneaded his back with both hands as though he were making bread! + And he was all right in a couple of hours!” + </p> + <p> + Belhomme thought that Chambrelan must also have used some charm, but he + did not dare say so before the priest. Caniveau replied, laughing: + </p> + <p> + “Are you sure it isn't a rabbit that you have in your ear? He might + have taken that hole for his home. Wait, I'll make him run away.” + </p> + <p> + Whereupon Caniveau, making a megaphone of his hands, began to mimic the + barking of hounds. He snapped, howled, growled, barked. And everybody in + the carriage began to roar, even the schoolmaster, who, as a rule, never + ever smiled. + </p> + <p> + However, as Belhomme seemed angry at their making fun of him, the priest + changed the conversation and turning to Rabot's big wife, said: + </p> + <p> + “You have a large family, haven't you?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, Monsieur le cure—and it's a pretty hard matter to + bring them up!” + </p> + <p> + Rabot agreed, nodding his head as though to say: “Oh, yes, it's a + hard thing to bring up!” + </p> + <p> + “How many children?” + </p> + <p> + She replied authoritatively in a strong, clear voice: + </p> + <p> + “Sixteen children, Monsieur le cure, fifteen of them by my husband!” + </p> + <p> + And Rabot smiled broadly, nodding his head. He was responsible for + fifteen, he alone, Rabot! His wife said so! Therefore there could be no + doubt about it. And he was proud! + </p> + <p> + And whose was the sixteenth? She didn't tell. It was doubtless the first. + Perhaps everybody knew, for no one was surprised. Even Caniveau kept mum. + </p> + <p> + But Belhomme began to moan again: + </p> + <p> + “Oh-oh-oh! It's scratching about in the bottom of my ear! Oh, dear, + oh, dear!” + </p> + <p> + The coach just then stopped at the Cafe Polyto. The priest said: + </p> + <p> + “If someone were to pour a little water into your ear, it might + perhaps drive it out. Do you want to try?” + </p> + <p> + “Sure! I am willing.” + </p> + <p> + And everybody got out in order to witness the operation. The priest asked + for a bowl, a napkin and a glass of water, then he told the teacher to + hold the patient's head over on one side, and, as soon as the liquid + should have entered the ear, to turn his head over suddenly on the other + side. + </p> + <p> + But Caniveau, who was already peering into Belhomme's ear to see if he + couldn't discover the beast, shouted: + </p> + <p> + “Gosh! What a mess! You'll have to clear that out, old man. Your + rabbit could never get through that; his feet would stick.” + </p> + <p> + The priest in turn examined the passage and saw that it was too narrow and + too congested for him to attempt to expel the animal. It was the teacher + who cleared out this passage by means of a match and a bit of cloth. Then, + in the midst of the general excitement, the priest poured into the passage + half a glass of water, which trickled over the face through the hair and + down the neck of the patient. Then the schoolmaster quickly twisted the + head round over the bowl, as though he were trying to unscrew it. A couple + of drops dripped into the white bowl. All the passengers rushed forward. + No insect had come out. + </p> + <p> + However, Belhomme exclaimed: “I don't feel anything any more.” + The priest triumphantly exclaimed: “Certainly it has been drowned.” + Everybody was happy and got back into the coach. + </p> + <p> + But hardly had they started when Belhomme began to cry out again. The bug + had aroused itself and had become furious. He even declared that it had + now entered his head and was eating his brain. He was howling with such + contortions that Poiret's wife, thinking him possessed by the devil, began + to cry and to cross herself. Then, the pain abating a little, the sick man + began to tell how it was running round in his ear. With his finger he + imitated the movements of the body, seeming to see it, to follow it with + his eyes: “There it goes up again! Oh—oh—oh—what + torture!” + </p> + <p> + Caniveau was getting impatient. “It's the water that is making the + bug angry. It is probably more accustomed to wine.” + </p> + <p> + Everybody laughed, and he continued: “When we get to the Cafe + Bourbeux, give it some brandy, and it won't bother you any more, I wager.” + </p> + <p> + But Belhomme could contain himself no longer; he began howling as though + his soul were being torn from his body. The priest was obliged to hold his + head for him. They asked Cesaire Horlaville to stop at the nearest house. + It was a farmhouse at the side of the road. Belhomme was carried into it + and laid on the kitchen table in order to repeat the operation. Caniveau + advised mixing brandy and water in order to benumb and perhaps kill the + insect. But the priest preferred vinegar. + </p> + <p> + They poured the liquid in drop by drop this time, that it might penetrate + down to the bottom, and they left it several minutes in the organ that the + beast had chosen for its home. + </p> + <p> + A bowl had once more been brought; Belhomme was turned over bodily by the + priest and Caniveau, while the schoolmaster was tapping on the healthy ear + in order to empty the other. + </p> + <p> + Cesaire Horlaville himself, whip in hand, had come in to observe the + proceedings. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly, at the bottom of the bowl appeared a little brown spot, no + bigger than a tiny seed. However, it was moving. It was a flea! First + there were cries of astonishment and then shouts of laughter. A flea! + Well, that was a good joke, a mighty good one! Caniveau was slapping his + thigh, Cesaire Horlaville snapped his whip, the priest laughed like a + braying donkey, the teacher cackled as though he were sneezing, and the + two women were giving little screams of joy, like the clucking of hens. + </p> + <p> + Belhomme had seated himself on the table and had taken the bowl between + his knees; he was observing, with serious attention and a vengeful anger + in his eye, the conquered insect which was twisting round in the water. He + grunted, “You rotten little beast!” and he spat on it. + </p> + <p> + The driver, wild with joy, kept repeating: “A flea, a flea, ah! + there you are, damned little flea, damned little flea, damned little flea!” + Then having calmed down a little, he cried: “Well, back to the + coach! We've lost enough time.” + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0170"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + DISCOVERY + </h2> + <p> + The steamer was crowded with people and the crossing promised to be good. + I was going from Havre to Trouville. + </p> + <p> + The ropes were thrown off, the whistle blew for the last time, the whole + boat started to tremble, and the great wheels began to revolve, slowly at + first, and then with ever-increasing rapidity. + </p> + <p> + We were gliding along the pier, black with people. Those on board were + waving their handkerchiefs, as though they were leaving for America, and + their friends on shore were answering in the same manner. + </p> + <p> + The big July sun was shining down on the red parasols, the light dresses, + the joyous faces and on the ocean, barely stirred by a ripple. When we + were out of the harbor, the little vessel swung round the big curve and + pointed her nose toward the distant shore which was barely visible through + the early morning mist. On our left was the broad estuary of the Seine, + her muddy water, which never mingles with that of the ocean, making large + yellow streaks clearly outlined against the immense sheet of the pure + green sea. + </p> + <p> + As soon as I am on a boat I feel the need of walking to and fro, like a + sailor on watch. Why? I do not know. Therefore I began to thread my way + along the deck through the crowd of travellers. Suddenly I heard my name + called. I turned around. I beheld one of my old friends, Henri Sidoine, + whom I had not seen for ten years. + </p> + <p> + We shook hands and continued our walk together, talking of one thing or + another. Suddenly Sidoine, who had been observing the crowd of passengers, + cried out angrily: + </p> + <p> + “It's disgusting, the boat is full of English people!” + </p> + <p> + It was indeed full of them. The men were standing about, looking over the + ocean with an all-important air, as though to say: “We are the + English, the lords of the sea! Here we are!” + </p> + <p> + The young girls, formless, with shoes which reminded one of the naval + constructions of their fatherland, wrapped in multi-colored shawls, were + smiling vacantly at the magnificent scenery. Their small heads, planted at + the top of their long bodies, wore English hats of the strangest build. + </p> + <p> + And the old maids, thinner yet, opening their characteristic jaws to the + wind, seemed to threaten one with their long, yellow teeth. On passing + them, one could notice the smell of rubber and of tooth wash. + </p> + <p> + Sidoine repeated, with growing anger: + </p> + <p> + “Disgusting! Can we never stop their coming to France?” + </p> + <p> + I asked, smiling: + </p> + <p> + “What have you got against them? As far as I am concerned, they + don't worry me.” + </p> + <p> + He snapped out: + </p> + <p> + “Of course they don't worry you! But I married one of them.” + </p> + <p> + I stopped and laughed at him. + </p> + <p> + “Go ahead and tell me about it. Does she make you very unhappy?” + </p> + <p> + He shrugged his shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “No, not exactly.” + </p> + <p> + “Then she—is not true to you?” + </p> + <p> + “Unfortunately, she is. That would be cause for a divorce, and I + could get rid of her.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I'm afraid I don't understand!” + </p> + <p> + “You don't understand? I'm not surprised. Well, she simply learned + how to speak French—that's all! Listen. + </p> + <p> + “I didn't have the least desire of getting married when I went to + spend the summer at Etretat two years ago. There is nothing more dangerous + than watering-places. You have no idea how it suits young girls. Paris is + the place for women and the country for young girls. + </p> + <p> + “Donkey rides, surf-bathing, breakfast on the grass, all these + things are traps set for the marriageable man. And, really, there is + nothing prettier than a child about eighteen, running through a field or + picking flowers along the road. + </p> + <p> + “I made the acquaintance of an English family who were stopping at + the same hotel where I was. The father looked like those men you see over + there, and the mother was like all other Englishwomen. + </p> + <p> + “They had two sons, the kind of boys who play rough games with + balls, bats or rackets from morning till night; then came two daughters, + the elder a dry, shrivelled-up Englishwoman, the younger a dream of + beauty, a heavenly blonde. When those chits make up their minds to be + pretty, they are divine. This one had blue eyes, the kind of blue which + seems to contain all the poetry, all the dreams, all the hopes and + happiness of the world! + </p> + <p> + “What an infinity of dreams is caused by two such eyes! How well + they answer the dim, eternal question of our heart! + </p> + <p> + “It must not be forgotten either that we Frenchmen adore foreign + women. As soon as we meet a Russian, an Italian, a Swede, a Spaniard, or + an Englishwoman with a pretty face, we immediately fall in love with her. + We enthuse over everything which comes from outside—clothes, hats, + gloves, guns and—women. But what a blunder! + </p> + <p> + “I believe that that which pleases us in foreign women is their + accent. As soon as a woman speaks our language badly we think she is + charming, if she uses the wrong word she is exquisite and if she jabbers + in an entirely unintelligible jargon, she becomes irresistible. + </p> + <p> + “My little English girl, Kate, spoke a language to be marvelled at. + At the beginning I could understand nothing, she invented so many new + words; then I fell absolutely in love with this queer, amusing dialect. + All maimed, strange, ridiculous terms became delightful in her mouth. + Every evening, on the terrace of the Casino, we had long conversations + which resembled spoken enigmas. + </p> + <p> + “I married her! I loved her wildly, as one can only love in a dream. + For true lovers only love a dream which has taken the form of a woman. + </p> + <p> + “Well, my dear fellow, the most foolish thing I ever did was to give + my wife a French teacher. As long as she slaughtered the dictionary and + tortured the grammar I adored her. Our conversations were simple. They + revealed to me her surprising gracefulness and matchless elegance; they + showed her to me as a wonderful speaking jewel, a living doll made to be + kissed, knowing, after a fashion, how to express what she loved. She + reminded me of the pretty little toys which say 'papa' and 'mamma' when + you pull a string. + </p> + <p> + “Now she talks—badly—very badly. She makes as many + mistakes as ever—but I can understand her. + </p> + <p> + “I have opened my doll to look inside—and I have seen. And now + I have to talk to her! + </p> + <p> + “Ah! you don't know, as I do, the opinions, the ideas, the theories + of a well-educated young English girl, whom I can blame in nothing, and + who repeats to me from morning till night sentences from a French reader + prepared in England for the use of young ladies' schools. + </p> + <p> + “You have seen those cotillon favors, those pretty gilt papers, + which enclose candies with an abominable taste. I have one of them. I tore + it open. I wished to eat what was inside and it disgusted me so that I + feel nauseated at seeing her compatriots. + </p> + <p> + “I have married a parrot to whom some old English governess might + have taught French. Do you understand?” + </p> + <p> + The harbor of Trouville was now showing its wooden piers covered with + people. + </p> + <p> + I said: + </p> + <p> + “Where is your wife?” + </p> + <p> + He answered: + </p> + <p> + “I took her back to Etretat.” + </p> + <p> + “And you, where are you going?” + </p> + <p> + “I? Oh, I am going to rest up here at Trouville.” + </p> + <p> + Then, after a pause, he added: + </p> + <p> + “You have no idea what a fool a woman can be at times!” + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0171"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + THE ACCURSED BREAD + </h2> + <p> + Daddy Taille had three daughters: Anna, the eldest, who was scarcely ever + mentioned in the family; Rose, the second girl, who was eighteen, and + Clara, the youngest, who was a girl of fifteen. + </p> + <p> + Old Taille was a widower and a foreman in M. Lebrument's button + manufactory. He was a very upright man, very well thought of, abstemious; + in fact, a sort of model workman. He lived at Havre, in the Rue + d'Angouleme. + </p> + <p> + When Anna ran away from home the old man flew into a fearful rage. He + threatened to kill the head clerk in a large draper's establishment in + that town, whom he suspected. After a time, when he was told by various + people that she was very steady and investing money in government + securities, that she was no gadabout, but was a great friend of Monsieur + Dubois, who was a judge of the Tribunal of Commerce, the father was + appeased. + </p> + <p> + He even showed some anxiety as to how she was getting on, and asked some + of her old friends who had been to see her, and when told that she had her + own furniture, and that her mantelpiece was covered with vases and the + walls with pictures, that there were clocks and carpets everywhere, he + gave a broad contented smile. He had been working for thirty years to get + together a wretched five or six thousand francs. This girl was evidently + no fool. + </p> + <p> + One fine morning the son of Touchard, the cooper, at the other end of the + street, came and asked him for the hand of Rose, the second girl. The old + man's heart began to beat, for the Touchards were rich and in a good + position. He was decidedly lucky with his girls. + </p> + <p> + The marriage was agreed upon, and it was settled that it should be a grand + affair, and the wedding dinner was to be held at Sainte-Adresse, at Mother + Jusa's restaurant. It would cost a lot certainly, but never mind, it did + not matter just for once in a way. + </p> + <p> + But one morning, just as the old man was going home to luncheon with his + two daughters, the door opened suddenly, and Anna appeared. She was well + dressed and looked undeniably pretty and nice. She threw her arms round + her father's neck before he could say a word, then fell into her sisters' + arms with many tears and then asked for a plate, so that she might share + the family soup. Taille was moved to tears in his turn and said several + times: + </p> + <p> + “That is right, dear, that is right.” + </p> + <p> + Then she told them about herself. She did not wish Rose's wedding to take + place at Sainte-Adresse—certainly not. It should take place at her + house and would cost her father nothing. She had settled everything and + arranged everything, so it was “no good to say any more about it—there!” + </p> + <p> + “Very well, my dear! very well!” the old man said; “we + will leave it so.” But then he felt some doubt. Would the Touchards + consent? But Rose, the bride-elect, was surprised and asked: “Why + should they object, I should like to know? Just leave that to me; I will + talk to Philip about it.” + </p> + <p> + She mentioned it to her lover the very same day, and he declared it would + suit him exactly. Father and Mother Touchard were naturally delighted at + the idea of a good dinner which would cost them nothing and said: + </p> + <p> + “You may be quite sure that everything will be in first-rate style.” + </p> + <p> + They asked to be allowed to bring a friend, Madame Florence, the cook on + the first floor, and Anna agreed to everything. + </p> + <p> + The wedding was fixed for the last Tuesday of the month. + </p> + <p> + After the civil formalities and the religious ceremony the wedding party + went to Anna's house. Among those whom the Tailles had brought was a + cousin of a certain age, a Monsieur Sauvetanin, a man given to + philosophical reflections, serious, and always very self-possessed, and + Madame Lamondois, an old aunt. + </p> + <p> + Monsieur Sautevanin had been told off to give Anna his arm, as they were + looked upon as the two most important persons in the company. + </p> + <p> + As soon as they had arrived at the door of Anna's house she let go her + companion's arm, and ran on ahead, saying: “I will show you the way,” + and ran upstairs while the invited guests followed more slowly; and, when + they got upstairs, she stood on one side to let them pass, and they rolled + their eyes and turned their heads in all directions to admire this + mysterious and luxurious dwelling. + </p> + <p> + The table was laid in the drawing-room, as the dining-room had been + thought too small. Extra knives, forks and spoons had been hired from a + neighboring restaurant, and decanters stood full of wine under the rays of + the sun which shone in through the window. + </p> + <p> + The ladies went into the bedroom to take off their shawls and bonnets, and + Father Touchard, who was standing at the door, made funny and suggestive + signs to the men, with many a wink and nod. Daddy Taille, who thought a + great deal of himself, looked with fatherly pride at his child's + well-furnished rooms and went from one to the other, holding his hat in + his hand, making a mental inventory of everything, and walking like a + verger in a church. + </p> + <p> + Anna went backward and forward, ran about giving orders and hurrying on + the wedding feast. Soon she appeared at the door of the dining-room and + cried: “Come here, all of you, for a moment,” and as the + twelve guests entered the room they saw twelve glasses of Madeira on a + small table. + </p> + <p> + Rose and her husband had their arms round each other's waists and were + kissing each other in every corner. Monsieur Sauvetanin never took his + eyes off Anna. + </p> + <p> + They sat down, and the wedding breakfast began, the relations sitting at + one end of the table and the young people at the other. Madame Touchard, + the mother, presided on the right and the bride on the left. Anna looked + after everybody, saw that the glasses were kept filled and the plates well + supplied. The guests evidently felt a certain respectful embarrassment at + the sight of all the sumptuousness of the rooms and at the lavish manner + in which they were treated. They all ate heartily of the good things + provided, but there were no jokes such as are prevalent at weddings of + that sort; it was all too grand, and it made them feel uncomfortable. Old + Madame Touchard, who was fond of a bit of fun, tried to enliven matters a + little, and at the beginning of the dessert she exclaimed: “I say, + Philip, do sing us something.” The neighbors in their street + considered that he had the finest voice in all Havre. + </p> + <p> + The bridegroom got up, smiled, and, turning to his sister-in-law, from + politeness and gallantry, tried to think of something suitable for the + occasion, something serious and correct, to harmonize with the seriousness + of the repast. + </p> + <p> + Anna had a satisfied look on her face, and leaned back in her chair to + listen, and all assumed looks of attention, though prepared to smile + should smiles be called for. + </p> + <p> + The singer announced “The Accursed Bread,” and, extending his + right arm, which made his coat ruck up into his neck, he began. + </p> + <p> + It was decidedly long, three verses of eight lines each, with the last + line and the last but one repeated twice. + </p> + <p> + All went well for the first two verses; they were the usual commonplaces + about bread gained by honest labor and by dishonesty. The aunt and the + bride wept outright. The cook, who was present, at the end of the first + verse looked at a roll which she held in her hand, with streaming eyes, as + if it applied to her, while all applauded vigorously. At the end of the + second verse the two servants, who were standing with their backs to the + wall, joined loudly in the chorus, and the aunt and the bride wept + outright. + </p> + <p> + Daddy Taille blew his nose with the noise of a trombone, and old Touchard + brandished a whole loaf half over the table, and the cook shed silent + tears on the crust which she was still holding. + </p> + <p> + Amid the general emotion Monsieur Sauvetanin said: + </p> + <p> + “That is the right sort of song; very different from the nasty, + risky things one generally hears at weddings.” + </p> + <p> + Anna, who was visibly affected, kissed her hand to her sister and pointed + to her husband with an affectionate nod, as if to congratulate her. + </p> + <p> + Intoxicated by his success, the young man continued, and unfortunately the + last verse contained words about the “bread of dishonor” + gained by young girls who had been led astray. No one took up the refrain + about this bread, supposed to be eaten with tears, except old Touchard and + the two servants. Anna had grown deadly pale and cast down her eyes, while + the bridegroom looked from one to the other without understanding the + reason for this sudden coldness, and the cook hastily dropped the crust as + if it were poisoned. + </p> + <p> + Monsieur Sauvetanin said solemnly, in order to save the situation: “That + last couplet is not at all necessary”; and Daddy Taille, who had got + red up to his ears, looked round the table fiercely. + </p> + <p> + Then Anna, her eyes swimming in tears, told the servants in the faltering + voice of a woman trying to stifle her sobs, to bring the champagne. + </p> + <p> + All the guests were suddenly seized with exuberant joy, and all their + faces became radiant again. And when old Touchard, who had seen, felt and + understood nothing of what was going on, and pointing to the guests so as + to emphasize his words, sang the last words of the refrain: + </p> + <p> + “Children, I warn you all to eat not of that bread,” the whole + company, when they saw the champagne bottles, with their necks covered + with gold foil, appear, burst out singing, as if electrified by the sight: + </p> + <p> + “Children, I warn you all to eat not of that bread.” + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0172"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + THE DOWRY + </h2> + <p> + The marriage of Maitre Simon Lebrument with Mademoiselle Jeanne Cordier + was a surprise to no one. Maitre Lebrument had bought out the practice of + Maitre Papillon; naturally, he had to have money to pay for it; and + Mademoiselle Jeanne Cordier had three hundred thousand francs clear in + currency, and in bonds payable to bearer. + </p> + <p> + Maitre Lebrument was a handsome man. He was stylish, although in a + provincial way; but, nevertheless, he was stylish—a rare thing at + Boutigny-le-Rebours. + </p> + <p> + Mademoiselle Cordier was graceful and fresh-looking, although a trifle + awkward; nevertheless, she was a handsome girl, and one to be desired. + </p> + <p> + The marriage ceremony turned all Boutigny topsy-turvy. Everybody admired + the young couple, who quickly returned home to domestic felicity, having + decided simply to take a short trip to Paris, after a few days of + retirement. + </p> + <p> + This tete-a-tete was delightful, Maitre Lebrument having shown just the + proper amount of delicacy. He had taken as his motto: “Everything + comes to him who waits.” He knew how to be at the same time patient + and energetic. His success was rapid and complete. + </p> + <p> + After four days, Madame Lebrument adored her husband. She could not get + along without him. She would sit on his knees, and taking him by the ears + she would say: “Open your mouth and shut your eyes.” He would + open his mouth wide and partly close his eyes, and he would try to nip her + fingers as she slipped some dainty between his teeth. Then she would give + him a kiss, sweet and long, which would make chills run up and down his + spine. And then, in his turn, he would not have enough caresses to please + his wife from morning to night and from night to morning. + </p> + <p> + When the first week was over, he said to his young companion: + </p> + <p> + “If you wish, we will leave for Paris next Tuesday. We will be like + two lovers, we will go to the restaurants, the theatres, the concert + halls, everywhere, everywhere!” + </p> + <p> + She was ready to dance for joy. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! yes, yes. Let us go as soon as possible.” + </p> + <p> + He continued: + </p> + <p> + “And then, as we must forget nothing, ask your father to have your + dowry ready; I shall pay Maitre Papillon on this trip.” + </p> + <p> + She answered: + </p> + <p> + “All right: I will tell him to-morrow morning.” + </p> + <p> + And he took her in his arms once more, to renew those sweet games of love + which she had so enjoyed for the past week. + </p> + <p> + The following Tuesday, father-in-law and mother-in-law went to the station + with their daughter and their son-in-law who were leaving for the capital. + </p> + <p> + The father-in-law said: + </p> + <p> + “I tell you it is very imprudent to carry so much money about in a + pocketbook.” And the young lawyer smiled. + </p> + <p> + “Don't worry; I am accustomed to such things. You understand that, + in my profession, I sometimes have as much as a million about me. In this + manner, at least we avoid a great amount of red tape and delay. You + needn't worry.” + </p> + <p> + The conductor was crying: + </p> + <p> + “All aboard for Paris!” + </p> + <p> + They scrambled into a car, where two old ladies were already seated. + </p> + <p> + Lebrument whispered into his wife's ear: + </p> + <p> + “What a bother! I won't be able to smoke.” + </p> + <p> + She answered in a low voice + </p> + <p> + “It annoys me too, but not an account of your cigar.” + </p> + <p> + The whistle blew and the train started. The trip lasted about an hour, + during which time they did not say very much to each other, as the two old + ladies did not go to sleep. + </p> + <p> + As soon as they were in front of the Saint-Lazare Station, Maitre + Lebrument said to his wife: + </p> + <p> + “Dearie, let us first go over to the Boulevard and get something to + eat; then we can quietly return and get our trunk and bring it to the + hotel.” + </p> + <p> + She immediately assented. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! yes. Let's eat at the restaurant. Is it far?” + </p> + <p> + He answered: + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it's quite a distance, but we will take the omnibus.” + </p> + <p> + She was surprised: + </p> + <p> + “Why don't we take a cab?” + </p> + <p> + He began to scold her smilingly: + </p> + <p> + “Is that the way you save money? A cab for a five minutes' ride at + six cents a minute! You would deprive yourself of nothing.” + </p> + <p> + “That's so,” she said, a little embarrassed. + </p> + <p> + A big omnibus was passing by, drawn by three big horses, which were + trotting along. Lebrument called out: + </p> + <p> + “Conductor! Conductor!” + </p> + <p> + The heavy carriage stopped. And the young lawyer, pushing his wife, said + to her quickly: + </p> + <p> + “Go inside; I'm going up on top, so that I may smoke at least one + cigarette before lunch.” + </p> + <p> + She had no time to answer. The conductor, who had seized her by the arm to + help her up the step, pushed her inside, and she fell into a seat, + bewildered, looking through the back window at the feet of her husband as + he climbed up to the top of the vehicle. + </p> + <p> + And she sat there motionless, between a fat man who smelled of cheap + tobacco and an old woman who smelled of garlic. + </p> + <p> + All the other passengers were lined up in silence—a grocer's boy, a + young girl, a soldier, a gentleman with gold-rimmed spectacles and a big + silk hat, two ladies with a self-satisfied and crabbed look, which seemed + to say: “We are riding in this thing, but we don't have to,” + two sisters of charity and an undertaker. They looked like a collection of + caricatures. + </p> + <p> + The jolting of the wagon made them wag their heads and the shaking of the + wheels seemed to stupefy them—they all looked as though they were + asleep. + </p> + <p> + The young woman remained motionless. + </p> + <p> + “Why didn't he come inside with me?” she was saying to + herself. An unaccountable sadness seemed to be hanging over her. He really + need not have acted so. + </p> + <p> + The sisters motioned to the conductor to stop, and they got off one after + the other, leaving in their wake the pungent smell of camphor. The bus + started tip and soon stopped again. And in got a cook, red-faced and out + of breath. She sat down and placed her basket of provisions on her knees. + A strong odor of dish-water filled the vehicle. + </p> + <p> + “It's further than I imagined,” thought Jeanne. + </p> + <p> + The undertaker went out, and was replaced by a coachman who seemed to + bring the atmosphere of the stable with him. The young girl had as a + successor a messenger, the odor of whose feet showed that he was + continually walking. + </p> + <p> + The lawyer's wife began to feel ill at ease, nauseated, ready to cry + without knowing why. + </p> + <p> + Other persons left and others entered. The stage went on through + interminable streets, stopping at stations and starting again. + </p> + <p> + “How far it is!” thought Jeanne. “I hope he hasn't gone + to sleep! He has been so tired the last few days.” + </p> + <p> + Little by little all the passengers left. She was left alone, all alone. + The conductor cried: + </p> + <p> + “Vaugirard!” + </p> + <p> + Seeing that she did not move, he repeated: + </p> + <p> + “Vaugirard!” + </p> + <p> + She looked at him, understanding that he was speaking to her, as there was + no one else there. For the third time the man said: + </p> + <p> + “Vaugirard!” + </p> + <p> + Then she asked: + </p> + <p> + “Where are we?” + </p> + <p> + He answered gruffly: + </p> + <p> + “We're at Vaugirard, of course! I have been yelling it for the last + half hour!” + </p> + <p> + “Is it far from the Boulevard?” she said. + </p> + <p> + “Which boulevard?” + </p> + <p> + “The Boulevard des Italiens.” + </p> + <p> + “We passed that a long time ago!” + </p> + <p> + “Would you mind telling my husband?” + </p> + <p> + “Your husband! Where is he?” + </p> + <p> + “On the top of the bus.” + </p> + <p> + “On the top! There hasn't been anybody there for a long time.” + </p> + <p> + She started, terrified. + </p> + <p> + “What? That's impossible! He got on with me. Look well! He must be + there.” + </p> + <p> + The conductor was becoming uncivil: + </p> + <p> + “Come on, little one, you've talked enough! You can find ten men for + every one that you lose. Now run along. You'll find another one somewhere.” + </p> + <p> + Tears were coming to her eyes. She insisted: + </p> + <p> + “But, monsieur, you are mistaken; I assure you that you must be + mistaken. He had a big portfolio under his arm.” + </p> + <p> + The man began to laugh: + </p> + <p> + “A big portfolio! Oh, yes! He got off at the Madeleine. He got rid + of you, all right! Ha! ha! ha!” + </p> + <p> + The stage had stopped. She got out and, in spite of herself, she looked up + instinctively to the roof of the bus. It was absolutely deserted. + </p> + <p> + Then she began to cry, and, without thinking that anybody was listening or + watching her, she said out loud: + </p> + <p> + “What is going to become of me?” + </p> + <p> + An inspector approached: + </p> + <p> + “What's the matter?” + </p> + <p> + The conductor answered, in a bantering tone of voice: + </p> + <p> + “It's a lady who got left by her husband during the trip.” + </p> + <p> + The other continued: + </p> + <p> + “Oh! that's nothing. You go about your business.” + </p> + <p> + Then he turned on his heels and walked away. + </p> + <p> + She began to walk straight ahead, too bewildered, too crazed even to + understand what had happened to her. Where was she to go? What could she + do? What could have happened to him? How could he have made such a + mistake? How could he have been so forgetful? + </p> + <p> + She had two francs in her pocket. To whom could she go? Suddenly she + remembered her cousin Barral, one of the assistants in the offices of the + Ministry of the Navy. + </p> + <p> + She had just enough to pay for a cab. She drove to his house. He met her + just as he was leaving for his office. He was carrying a large portfolio + under his arm, just like Lebrument. + </p> + <p> + She jumped out of the carriage. + </p> + <p> + “Henry!” she cried. + </p> + <p> + He stopped, astonished: + </p> + <p> + “Jeanne! Here—all alone! What are you doing? Where have you + come from?” + </p> + <p> + Her eyes full of tears, she stammered: + </p> + <p> + “My husband has just got lost!” + </p> + <p> + “Lost! Where?” + </p> + <p> + “On an omnibus.” + </p> + <p> + “On an omnibus?” + </p> + <p> + Weeping, she told him her whole adventure. + </p> + <p> + He listened, thought, and then asked: + </p> + <p> + “Was his mind clear this morning?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Good. Did he have much money with him?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, he was carrying my dowry.” + </p> + <p> + “Your dowry! The whole of it?” + </p> + <p> + “The whole of it—in order to pay for the practice which he + bought.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, my dear cousin, by this time your husband must be well on his + way to Belgium.” + </p> + <p> + She could not understand. She kept repeating: + </p> + <p> + “My husband—you say—” + </p> + <p> + “I say that he has disappeared with your—your capital—that's + all!” + </p> + <p> + She stood there, a prey to conflicting emotions, sobbing. + </p> + <p> + “Then he is—he is—he is a villain!” + </p> + <p> + And, faint from excitement, she leaned her head on her cousin's shoulder + and wept. + </p> + <p> + As people were stopping to look at them, he pushed her gently into the + vestibule of his house, and, supporting her with his arm around her waist, + he led her up the stairs, and as his astonished servant opened the door, + he ordered: + </p> + <p> + “Sophie, run to the restaurant and get a luncheon for two. I am not + going to the office to-day.” + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0173"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + THE DIARY OF A MADMAN + </h2> + <p> + He was dead—the head of a high tribunal, the upright magistrate + whose irreproachable life was a proverb in all the courts of France. + Advocates, young counsellors, judges had greeted him at sight of his + large, thin, pale face lighted up by two sparkling deep-set eyes, bowing + low in token of respect. + </p> + <p> + He had passed his life in pursuing crime and in protecting the weak. + Swindlers and murderers had no more redoubtable enemy, for he seemed to + read the most secret thoughts of their minds. + </p> + <p> + He was dead, now, at the age of eighty-two, honored by the homage and + followed by the regrets of a whole people. Soldiers in red trousers had + escorted him to the tomb and men in white cravats had spoken words and + shed tears that seemed to be sincere beside his grave. + </p> + <p> + But here is the strange paper found by the dismayed notary in the desk + where he had kept the records of great criminals! It was entitled: WHY? + </p> + <p> + 20th June, 1851. I have just left court. I have condemned Blondel to + death! Now, why did this man kill his five children? Frequently one meets + with people to whom the destruction of life is a pleasure. Yes, yes, it + should be a pleasure, the greatest of all, perhaps, for is not killing the + next thing to creating? To make and to destroy! These two words contain + the history of the universe, all the history of worlds, all that is, all! + Why is it not intoxicating to kill? + </p> + <p> + 25th June. To think that a being is there who lives, who walks, who runs. + A being? What is a being? That animated thing, that bears in it the + principle of motion and a will ruling that motion. It is attached to + nothing, this thing. Its feet do not belong to the ground. It is a grain + of life that moves on the earth, and this grain of life, coming I know not + whence, one can destroy at one's will. Then nothing—nothing more. It + perishes, it is finished. + </p> + <p> + 26th June. Why then is it a crime to kill? Yes, why? On the contrary, it + is the law of nature. The mission of every being is to kill; he kills to + live, and he kills to kill. The beast kills without ceasing, all day, + every instant of his existence. Man kills without ceasing, to nourish + himself; but since he needs, besides, to kill for pleasure, he has + invented hunting! The child kills the insects he finds, the little birds, + all the little animals that come in his way. But this does not suffice for + the irresistible need to massacre that is in us. It is not enough to kill + beasts; we must kill man too. Long ago this need was satisfied by human + sacrifices. Now the requirements of social life have made murder a crime. + We condemn and punish the assassin! But as we cannot live without yielding + to this natural and imperious instinct of death, we relieve ourselves, + from time to time, by wars. Then a whole nation slaughters another nation. + It is a feast of blood, a feast that maddens armies and that intoxicates + civilians, women and children, who read, by lamplight at night, the + feverish story of massacre. + </p> + <p> + One might suppose that those destined to accomplish these butcheries of + men would be despised! No, they are loaded with honors. They are clad in + gold and in resplendent garments; they wear plumes on their heads and + ornaments on their breasts, and they are given crosses, rewards, titles of + every kind. They are proud, respected, loved by women, cheered by the + crowd, solely because their mission is to shed human blood; They drag + through the streets their instruments of death, that the passer-by, clad + in black, looks on with envy. For to kill is the great law set by nature + in the heart of existence! There is nothing more beautiful and honorable + than killing! + </p> + <p> + 30th June. To kill is the law, because nature loves eternal youth. She + seems to cry in all her unconscious acts: “Quick! quick! quick!” + The more she destroys, the more she renews herself. + </p> + <p> + 2d July. A human being—what is a human being? Through thought it is + a reflection of all that is; through memory and science it is an abridged + edition of the universe whose history it represents, a mirror of things + and of nations, each human being becomes a microcosm in the macrocosm. + </p> + <p> + 3d July. It must be a pleasure, unique and full of zest, to kill; to have + there before one the living, thinking being; to make therein a little + hole, nothing but a little hole, to see that red thing flow which is the + blood, which makes life; and to have before one only a heap of limp flesh, + cold, inert, void of thought! + </p> + <p> + 5th August. I, who have passed my life in judging, condemning, killing by + the spoken word, killing by the guillotine those who had killed by the + knife, I, I, if I should do as all the assassins have done whom I have + smitten, I—I—who would know it? + </p> + <p> + 10th August. Who would ever know? Who would ever suspect me, me, me, + especially if I should choose a being I had no interest in doing away + with? + </p> + <p> + 15th August. The temptation has come to me. It pervades my whole being; my + hands tremble with the desire to kill. + </p> + <p> + 22d August. I could resist no longer. I killed a little creature as an + experiment, for a beginning. Jean, my servant, had a goldfinch in a cage + hung in the office window. I sent him on an errand, and I took the little + bird in my hand, in my hand where I felt its heart beat. It was warm. I + went up to my room. From time to time I squeezed it tighter; its heart + beat faster; this was atrocious and delicious. I was near choking it. But + I could not see the blood. + </p> + <p> + Then I took scissors, short-nail scissors, and I cut its throat with three + slits, quite gently. It opened its bill, it struggled to escape me, but I + held it, oh! I held it—I could have held a mad dog—and I saw + the blood trickle. + </p> + <p> + And then I did as assassins do—real ones. I washed the scissors, I + washed my hands. I sprinkled water and took the body, the corpse, to the + garden to hide it. I buried it under a strawberry-plant. It will never be + found. Every day I shall eat a strawberry from that plant. How one can + enjoy life when one knows how! + </p> + <p> + My servant cried; he thought his bird flown. How could he suspect me? Ah! + ah! + </p> + <p> + 25th August. I must kill a man! I must— + </p> + <p> + 30th August. It is done. But what a little thing! I had gone for a walk in + the forest of Vernes. I was thinking of nothing, literally nothing. A + child was in the road, a little child eating a slice of bread and butter. + </p> + <p> + He stops to see me pass and says, “Good-day, Mr. President.” + </p> + <p> + And the thought enters my head, “Shall I kill him?” + </p> + <p> + I answer: “You are alone, my boy?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “All alone in the wood?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir.” + </p> + <p> + The wish to kill him intoxicated me like wine. I approached him quite + softly, persuaded that he was going to run away. And, suddenly, I seized + him by the throat. He looked at me with terror in his eyes—such + eyes! He held my wrists in his little hands and his body writhed like a + feather over the fire. Then he moved no more. I threw the body in the + ditch, and some weeds on top of it. I returned home, and dined well. What + a little thing it was! In the evening I was very gay, light, rejuvenated; + I passed the evening at the Prefect's. They found me witty. But I have not + seen blood! I am tranquil. + </p> + <p> + 31st August. The body has been discovered. They are hunting for the + assassin. Ah! ah! + </p> + <p> + 1st September. Two tramps have been arrested. Proofs are lacking. + </p> + <p> + 2d September. The parents have been to see me. They wept! Ah! ah! + </p> + <p> + 6th October. Nothing has been discovered. Some strolling vagabond must + have done the deed. Ah! ah! If I had seen the blood flow, it seems to me I + should be tranquil now! The desire to kill is in my blood; it is like the + passion of youth at twenty. + </p> + <p> + 20th October. Yet another. I was walking by the river, after breakfast. + And I saw, under a willow, a fisherman asleep. It was noon. A spade was + standing in a potato-field near by, as if expressly, for me. + </p> + <p> + I took it. I returned; I raised it like a club, and with one blow of the + edge I cleft the fisherman's head. Oh! he bled, this one! Rose-colored + blood. It flowed into the water, quite gently. And I went away with a + grave step. If I had been seen! Ah! ah! I should have made an excellent + assassin. + </p> + <p> + 25th October. The affair of the fisherman makes a great stir. His nephew, + who fished with him, is charged with the murder. + </p> + <p> + 26th October. The examining magistrate affirms that the nephew is guilty. + Everybody in town believes it. Ah! ah! + </p> + <p> + 27th October. The nephew makes a very poor witness. He had gone to the + village to buy bread and cheese, he declared. He swore that his uncle had + been killed in his absence! Who would believe him? + </p> + <p> + 28th October. The nephew has all but confessed, they have badgered him so. + Ah! ah! justice! + </p> + <p> + 15th November. There are overwhelming proofs against the nephew, who was + his uncle's heir. I shall preside at the sessions. + </p> + <p> + 25th January. To death! to death! to death! I have had him condemned to + death! Ah! ah! The advocate-general spoke like an angel! Ah! ah! Yet + another! I shall go to see him executed! + </p> + <p> + 10th March. It is done. They guillotined him this morning. He died very + well! very well! That gave me pleasure! How fine it is to see a man's head + cut off! + </p> + <p> + Now, I shall wait, I can wait. It would take such a little thing to let + myself be caught. + </p> + <p> + The manuscript contained yet other pages, but without relating any new + crime. + </p> + <p> + Alienist physicians to whom the awful story has been submitted declare + that there are in the world many undiscovered madmen as adroit and as much + to be feared as this monstrous lunatic. + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0174"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + THE MASK + </h2> + <p> + There was a masquerade ball at the Elysee-Montmartre that evening. It was + the 'Mi-Careme', and the crowds were pouring into the brightly lighted + passage which leads to the dance ball, like water flowing through the open + lock of a canal. The loud call of the orchestra, bursting like a storm of + sound, shook the rafters, swelled through the whole neighborhood and + awoke, in the streets and in the depths of the houses, an irresistible + desire to jump, to get warm, to have fun, which slumbers within each human + animal. + </p> + <p> + The patrons came from every quarter of Paris; there were people of all + classes who love noisy pleasures, a little low and tinged with debauch. + There were clerks and girls—girls of every description, some wearing + common cotton, some the finest batiste; rich girls, old and covered with + diamonds, and poor girls of sixteen, full of the desire to revel, to + belong to men, to spend money. Elegant black evening suits, in search of + fresh or faded but appetizing novelty, wandering through the excited + crowds, looking, searching, while the masqueraders seemed moved above all + by the desire for amusement. Already the far-famed quadrilles had + attracted around them a curious crowd. The moving hedge which encircled + the four dancers swayed in and out like a snake, sometimes nearer and + sometimes farther away, according to the motions of the performers. The + two women, whose lower limbs seemed to be attached to their bodies by + rubber springs, were making wonderful and surprising motions with their + legs. Their partners hopped and skipped about, waving their arms about. + One could imagine their panting breath beneath their masks. + </p> + <p> + One of them, who had taken his place in the most famous quadrille, as + substitute for an absent celebrity, the handsome “Songe-au-Gosse,” + was trying to keep up with the tireless “Arete-de-Veau” and + was making strange fancy steps which aroused the joy and sarcasm of the + audience. + </p> + <p> + He was thin, dressed like a dandy, with a pretty varnished mask on his + face. It had a curly blond mustache and a wavy wig. He looked like a wax + figure from the Musee Grevin, like a strange and fantastic caricature of + the charming young man of fashion plates, and he danced with visible + effort, clumsily, with a comical impetuosity. He appeared rusty beside the + others when he tried to imitate their gambols: he seemed overcome by + rheumatism, as heavy as a great Dane playing with greyhounds. Mocking + bravos encouraged him. And he, carried away with enthusiasm, jigged about + with such frenzy that suddenly, carried away by a wild spurt, he pitched + head foremost into the living wall formed by the audience, which opened up + before him to allow him to pass, then closed around the inanimate body of + the dancer, stretched out on his face. + </p> + <p> + Some men picked him up and carried him away, calling for a doctor. A + gentleman stepped forward, young and elegant, in well-fitting evening + clothes, with large pearl studs. “I am a professor of the Faculty of + Medicine,” he said in a modest voice. He was allowed to pass, and he + entered a small room full of little cardboard boxes, where the still + lifeless dancer had been stretched out on some chairs. The doctor at first + wished to take off the mask, and he noticed that it was attached in a + complicated manner, with a perfect network of small metal wires which + cleverly bound it to his wig and covered the whole head. Even the neck was + imprisoned in a false skin which continued the chin and was painted the + color of flesh, being attached to the collar of the shirt. + </p> + <p> + All this had to be cut with strong scissors. When the physician had slit + open this surprising arrangement, from the shoulder to the temple, he + opened this armor and found the face of an old man, worn out, thin and + wrinkled. The surprise among those who had brought in this seemingly young + dancer was so great that no one laughed, no one said a word. + </p> + <p> + All were watching this sad face as he lay on the straw chairs, his eyes + closed, his face covered with white hair, some long, falling from the + forehead over the face, others short, growing around the face and the + chin, and beside this poor head, that pretty little, neat varnished, + smiling mask. + </p> + <p> + The man regained consciousness after being inanimate for a long time, but + he still seemed to be so weak and sick that the physician feared some + dangerous complication. He asked: “Where do you live?” + </p> + <p> + The old dancer seemed to be making an effort to remember, and then he + mentioned the name of the street, which no one knew. He was asked for more + definite information about the neighborhood. He answered with a great + slowness, indecision and difficulty, which revealed his upset state of + mind. The physician continued: + </p> + <p> + “I will take you home myself.” + </p> + <p> + Curiosity had overcome him to find out who this strange dancer, this + phenomenal jumper might be. Soon the two rolled away in a cab to the other + side of Montmartre. + </p> + <p> + They stopped before a high building of poor appearance. They went up a + winding staircase. The doctor held to the banister, which was so grimy + that the hand stuck to it, and he supported the dizzy old man, whose + forces were beginning to return. They stopped at the fourth floor. + </p> + <p> + The door at which they had knocked was opened by an old woman, neat + looking, with a white nightcap enclosing a thin face with sharp features, + one of those good, rough faces of a hard-working and faithful woman. She + cried out: + </p> + <p> + “For goodness sake! What's the matter?” + </p> + <p> + He told her the whole affair in a few words. She became reassured and even + calmed the physician himself by telling him that the same thing had + happened many times. She said: “He must be put to bed, monsieur, + that is all. Let him sleep and tomorrow he will be all right.” + </p> + <p> + The doctor continued: “But he can hardly speak.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! that's just a little drink, nothing more; he has eaten no + dinner, in order to be nimble, and then he took a few absinthes in order + to work himself up to the proper pitch. You see, drink gives strength to + his legs, but it stops his thoughts and words. He is too old to dance as + he does. Really, his lack of common sense is enough to drive one mad!” + </p> + <p> + The doctor, surprised, insisted: + </p> + <p> + “But why does he dance like that at his age?” + </p> + <p> + She shrugged her shoulders and turned red from the anger which was slowly + rising within her and she cried out: + </p> + <p> + “Ah! yes, why? So that the people will think him young under his + mask; so that the women will still take him for a young dandy and whisper + nasty things into his ears; so that he can rub up against all their dirty + skins, with their perfumes and powders and cosmetics. Ah! it's a fine + business! What a life I have had for the last forty years! But we must + first get him to bed, so that he may have no ill effects. Would you mind + helping me? When he is like that I can't do anything with him alone.” + </p> + <p> + The old man was sitting on his bed, with a tipsy look, his long white hair + falling over his face. His companion looked at him with tender yet + indignant eyes. She continued: + </p> + <p> + “Just see the fine head he has for his age, and yet he has to go and + disguise himself in order to make people think that he is young. It's a + perfect shame! Really, he has a fine head, monsieur! Wait, I'll show it to + you before putting him to bed.” + </p> + <p> + She went to a table on which stood the washbasin a pitcher of water, soap + and a comb and brush. She took the brush, returned to the bed and pushed + back the drunkard's tangled hair. In a few seconds she made him look like + a model fit for a great painter, with his long white locks flowing on his + neck. Then she stepped back in order to observe him, saying: “There! + Isn't he fine for his age?” + </p> + <p> + “Very,” agreed the doctor, who was beginning to be highly + amused. + </p> + <p> + She added: “And if you had known him when he was twenty-five! But we + must get him to bed, otherwise the drink will make him sick. Do you mind + drawing off that sleeve? Higher-like that-that's right. Now the trousers. + Wait, I will take his shoes off—that's right. Now, hold him upright + while I open the bed. There—let us put him in. If you think that he + is going to disturb himself when it is time for me to get in you are + mistaken. I have to find a little corner any place I can. That doesn't + bother him! Bah! You old pleasure seeker!” + </p> + <p> + As soon as he felt himself stretched out in his sheets the old man closed + his eyes, opened them closed them again, and over his whole face appeared + an energetic resolve to sleep. The doctor examined him with an + ever-increasing interest and asked: “Does he go to all the fancy + balls and try to be a young man?” “To all of them, monsieur, + and he comes back to me in the morning in a deplorable condition. You see, + it's regret that leads him on and that makes him put a pasteboard face + over his own. Yes, the regret of no longer being what he was and of no + longer making any conquests!” + </p> + <p> + He was sleeping now and beginning to snore. She looked at him with a + pitying expression and continued: “Oh! how many conquests that man + has made! More than one could believe, monsieur, more than the finest + gentlemen of the world, than all the tenors and all the generals.” + </p> + <p> + “Really? What did he do?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! it will surprise you at first, as you did not know him in his + palmy days. When I met him it was also at a ball, for he has always + frequented them. As soon as I saw him I was caught—caught like a + fish on a hook. Ah! how pretty he was, monsieur, with his curly raven + locks and black eyes as large as saucers! Indeed, he was good looking! He + took me away that evening and I never have left him since, never, not even + for a day, no matter what he did to me! Oh! he has often made it hard for + me!” + </p> + <p> + The doctor asked: “Are you married?” + </p> + <p> + She answered simply: “Yes, monsieur, otherwise he would have dropped + me as he did the others. I have been his wife and his servant, everything, + everything that he wished. How he has made me cry—tears which I did + not show him; for he would tell all his adventures to me—to me, + monsieur—without understanding how it hurt me to listen.” + </p> + <p> + “But what was his business?” + </p> + <p> + “That's so. I forgot to tell you. He was the foreman at Martel's—a + foreman such as they never had had—an artist who averaged ten francs + an hour.” + </p> + <p> + “Martel?—who is Martel?” + </p> + <p> + “The hairdresser, monsieur, the great hairdresser of the Opera, who + had all the actresses for customers. Yes, sir, all the smartest actresses + had their hair dressed by Ambrose and they would give him tips that made a + fortune for him. Ah! monsieur, all the women are alike, yes, all of them. + When a man pleases their fancy they offer themselves to him. It is so easy—and + it hurt me so to hear about it. For he would tell me everything—he + simply could not hold his tongue—it was impossible. Those things + please the men so much! They seem to get even more enjoyment out of + telling than doing. + </p> + <p> + “When I would see him coming in the evening, a little pale, with a + pleased look and a bright eye, would say to myself: 'One more. I am sure + that he has caught one more.' Then I felt a wild desire to question him + and then, again, not to know, to stop his talking if he should begin. And + we would look at each other. + </p> + <p> + “I knew that he would not keep still, that he would come to the + point. I could feel that from his manner, which seemed to laugh and say: + 'I had a fine adventure to-day, Madeleine.' I would pretend to notice + nothing, to guess nothing; I would set the table, bring on the soup and + sit down opposite him. + </p> + <p> + “At those times, monsieur, it was as if my friendship for him had + been crushed in my body as with a stone. It hurt. But he did not + understand; he did not know; he felt a need to tell all those things to + some one, to boast, to show how much he was loved, and I was the only one + he had to whom he could talk-the only one. And I would have to listen and + drink it in, like poison. + </p> + <p> + “He would begin to take his soup and then he would say: 'One more, + Madeleine.' + </p> + <p> + “And I would think: 'Here it comes! Goodness! what a man! Why did I + ever meet him?' + </p> + <p> + “Then he would begin: 'One more! And a beauty, too.' And it would be + some little one from the Vaudeville or else from the Varietes, and some of + the big ones, too, some of the most famous. He would tell me their names, + how their apartments were furnished, everything, everything, monsieur. + Heartbreaking details. And he would go over them and tell his story over + again from beginning to end, so pleased with himself that I would pretend + to laugh so that he would not get angry with me. + </p> + <p> + “Everything may not have been true! He liked to glorify himself and + was quite capable of inventing such things! They may perhaps also have + been true! On those evenings he would pretend to be tired and wish to go + to bed after supper. We would take supper at eleven, monsieur, for he + could never get back from work earlier. + </p> + <p> + “When he had finished telling about his adventure he would walk + round the room and smoke cigarettes, and he was so handsome, with his + mustache and curly hair, that I would think: 'It's true, just the same, + what he is telling. Since I myself am crazy about that man, why should not + others be the same?' Then I would feel like crying, shrieking, running + away and jumping out of the window while I was clearing the table and he + was smoking. He would yawn in order to show how tired he was, and he would + say two or three times before going to bed: 'Ah! how well I shall sleep + this evening!' + </p> + <p> + “I bear him no ill will, because he did not know how he was hurting + me. No, he could not know! He loved to boast about the women just as a + peacock loves to show his feathers. He got to the point where he thought + that all of them looked at him and desired him. + </p> + <p> + “It was hard when he grew old. Oh, monsieur, when I saw his first + white hair I felt a terrible shock and then a great joy—a wicked joy—but + so great, so great! I said to myself: 'It's the end-it's the end.' It + seemed as if I were about to be released from prison. At last I could have + him to myself, all to myself, when the others would no longer want him. + </p> + <p> + “It was one morning in bed. He was still sleeping and I leaned over + him to wake him up with a kiss, when I noticed in his curls, over his + temple, a little thread which shone like silver. What a surprise! I should + not have thought it possible! At first I thought of tearing it out so that + he would not see it, but as I looked carefully I noticed another farther + up. White hair! He was going to have white hair! My heart began to thump + and perspiration stood out all over me, but away down at the bottom I was + happy. + </p> + <p> + “It was mean to feel thus, but I did my housework with a light heart + that morning, without waking him up, and, as soon as he opened his eyes of + his own accord, I said to him: 'Do you know what I discovered while you + were asleep?' + </p> + <p> + “'No.' + </p> + <p> + “'I found white hairs.' + </p> + <p> + “He started up as if I had tickled him and said angrily: 'It's not + true!' + </p> + <p> + “'Yes, it is. There are four of them over your left temple.' + </p> + <p> + “He jumped out of bed and ran over to the mirror. He could not find + them. Then I showed him the first one, the lowest, the little curly one, + and I said: 'It's no wonder, after the life that you have been leading. In + two years all will be over for you.' + </p> + <p> + “Well, monsieur, I had spoken true; two years later one could not + recognize him. How quickly a man changes! He was still handsome, but he + had lost his freshness, and the women no longer ran after him. Ah! what a + life I led at that time! How he treated me! Nothing suited him. He left + his trade to go into the hat business, in which he ate up all his money. + Then he unsuccessfully tried to be an actor, and finally he began to + frequent public balls. Fortunately, he had had common sense enough to save + a little something on which we now live. It is sufficient, but it is not + enormous. And to think that at one time he had almost a fortune. + </p> + <p> + “Now you see what he does. This habit holds him like a frenzy. He + has to be young; he has to dance with women who smell of perfume and + cosmetics. You poor old darling!” + </p> + <p> + She was looking at her old snoring husband fondly, ready to cry. Then, + gently tiptoeing up to him, she kissed his hair. The physician had risen + and was getting ready to leave, finding nothing to say to this strange + couple. Just as he was leaving she asked: + </p> + <p> + “Would you mind giving me your address? If he should grow worse, I + could go and get you.” + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0175"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + THE PENGUINS' ROCK + </h2> + <div class='ph3'> + This is the season for penguins. + </div> + <p> + From April to the end of May, before the Parisian visitors arrive, one + sees, all at once, on the little beach at Etretat several old gentlemen, + booted and belted in shooting costume. They spend four or five days at the + Hotel Hauville, disappear, and return again three weeks later. Then, after + a fresh sojourn, they go away altogether. + </p> + <p> + One sees them again the following spring. + </p> + <p> + These are the last penguin hunters, what remain of the old set. There were + about twenty enthusiasts thirty or forty years ago; now there are only a + few of the enthusiastic sportsmen. + </p> + <p> + The penguin is a very rare bird of passage, with peculiar habits. It lives + the greater part of the year in the latitude of Newfoundland and the + islands of St. Pierre and Miquelon. But in the breeding season a flight of + emigrants crosses the ocean and comes every year to the same spot to lay + their eggs, to the Penguins' Rock near Etretat. They are found nowhere + else, only there. They have always come there, have always been chased + away, but return again, and will always return. As soon as the young birds + are grown they all fly away, and disappear for a year. + </p> + <p> + Why do they not go elsewhere? Why not choose some other spot on the long + white, unending cliff that extends from the Pas-de-Calais to Havre? What + force, what invincible instinct, what custom of centuries impels these + birds to come back to this place? What first migration, what tempest, + possibly, once cast their ancestors on this rock? And why do the children, + the grandchildren, all the descendants of the first parents always return + here? + </p> + <p> + There are not many of them, a hundred at most, as if one single family, + maintaining the tradition, made this annual pilgrimage. + </p> + <p> + And each spring, as soon as the little wandering tribe has taken up its + abode an the rock, the same sportsmen also reappear in the village. One + knew them formerly when they were young; now they are old, but constant to + the regular appointment which they have kept for thirty or forty years. + They would not miss it for anything in the world. + </p> + <p> + It was an April evening in one of the later years. Three of the old + sportsmen had arrived; one was missing—M. d'Arnelles. + </p> + <p> + He had written to no one, given no account of himself. But he was not + dead, like so many of the rest; they would have heard of it. At length, + tired of waiting for him, the other three sat down to table. Dinner was + almost over when a carriage drove into the yard of the hotel, and the late + comer presently entered the dining room. + </p> + <p> + He sat down, in a good humor, rubbing his hands, and ate with zest. When + one of his comrades remarked with surprise at his being in a frock-coat, + he replied quietly: + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I had no time to change my clothes.” + </p> + <p> + They retired on leaving the table, for they had to set out before daybreak + in order to take the birds unawares. + </p> + <p> + There is nothing so pretty as this sport, this early morning expedition. + </p> + <p> + At three o'clock in the morning the sailors awoke the sportsmen by + throwing sand against the windows. They were ready in a few minutes and + went down to the beach. Although it was still dark, the stars had paled a + little. The sea ground the shingle on the beach. There was such a fresh + breeze that it made one shiver slightly in spite of one's heavy clothing. + </p> + <p> + Presently two boats were pushed down the beach, by the sailors, with a + sound as of tearing cloth, and were floated on the nearest waves. The + brown sail was hoisted, swelled a little, fluttered, hesitated and + swelling out again as round as a paunch, carried the boats towards the + large arched entrance that could be faintly distinguished in the darkness. + </p> + <p> + The sky became clearer, the shadows seemed to melt away. The coast still + seemed veiled, the great white coast, perpendicular as a wall. + </p> + <p> + They passed through the Manne-Porte, an enormous arch beneath which a ship + could sail; they doubled the promontory of La Courtine, passed the little + valley of Antifer and the cape of the same name; and suddenly caught sight + of a beach on which some hundreds of seagulls were perched. + </p> + <p> + That was the Penguins' Rock. It was just a little protuberance of the + cliff, and on the narrow ledges of rock the birds' heads might be seen + watching the boats. + </p> + <p> + They remained there, motionless, not venturing to fly off as yet. Some of + them perched on the edges, seated upright, looked almost like bottles, for + their little legs are so short that when they walk they glide along as if + they were on rollers. When they start to fly they cannot make a spring and + let themselves fall like stones almost down to the very men who are + watching them. + </p> + <p> + They know their limitation and the danger to which it subjects them, and + cannot make up their minds to fly away. + </p> + <p> + But the boatmen begin to shout, beating the sides of the boat with the + wooden boat pins, and the birds, in affright, fly one by one into space + until they reach the level of the waves. Then, moving their wings rapidly, + they scud, scud along until they reach the open sea; if a shower of lead + does not knock them into the water. + </p> + <p> + For an hour the firing is kept up, obliging them to give up, one after + another. Sometimes the mother birds will not leave their nests, and are + riddled with shot, causing drops of blood to spurt out on the white cliff, + and the animal dies without having deserted her eggs. + </p> + <p> + The first day M. d'Arnelles fired at the birds with his habitual zeal; but + when the party returned toward ten o'clock, beneath a brilliant sun, which + cast great triangles of light on the white cliffs along the coast he + appeared a little worried, and absentminded, contrary to his accustomed + manner. + </p> + <p> + As soon as they got on shore a kind of servant dressed in black came up to + him and said something in a low tone. He seemed to reflect, hesitate, and + then replied: + </p> + <p> + “No, to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + The following day they set out again. This time M, d'Arnelles frequently + missed his aim, although the birds were close by. His friends teased him, + asked him if he were in love, if some secret sorrow was troubling his mind + and heart. At length he confessed. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, indeed, I have to leave soon, and that annoys me.” + </p> + <p> + “What, you must leave? And why?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I have some business that calls me back. I cannot stay any + longer.” + </p> + <p> + They then talked of other matters. + </p> + <p> + As soon as breakfast was over the valet in black appeared. M. d'Arnelles + ordered his carriage, and the man was leaving the room when the three + sportsmen interfered, insisting, begging, and praying their friend to + stay. One of them at last said: + </p> + <p> + “Come now, this cannot be a matter of such importance, for you have + already waited two days.” + </p> + <p> + M. d'Arnelles, altogether perplexed, began to think, evidently baffled, + divided between pleasure and duty, unhappy and disturbed. + </p> + <p> + After reflecting for some time he stammered: + </p> + <p> + “The fact is—the fact is—I am not alone here. I have my + son-in-law.” + </p> + <p> + There were exclamations and shouts of “Your son-in-law! Where is he?” + </p> + <p> + He suddenly appeared confused and his face grew red. + </p> + <p> + “What! do you not know? Why—why—he is in the coach + house. He is dead.” + </p> + <p> + They were all silent in amazement. + </p> + <p> + M. d'Arnelles continued, more and more disturbed: + </p> + <p> + “I had the misfortune to lose him; and as I was taking the body to + my house, in Briseville, I came round this way so as not to miss our + appointment. But you can see that I cannot wait any longer.” + </p> + <p> + Then one of the sportsmen, bolder than the rest said: + </p> + <p> + “Well, but—since he is dead—it seems to me that he can + wait a day longer.” + </p> + <p> + The others chimed in: + </p> + <p> + “That cannot be denied.” + </p> + <p> + M. d'Arnelles appeared to be relieved of a great weight, but a little + uneasy, nevertheless, he asked: + </p> + <p> + “But, frankly—do you think—” + </p> + <p> + The three others, as one man, replied: + </p> + <p> + “Parbleu! my dear boy, two days more or less can make no difference + in his present condition.” + </p> + <p> + And, perfectly calmly, the father-in-law turned to the undertaker's + assistant, and said: + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, my friend, it will be the day after tomorrow.” + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0176"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + A FAMILY + </h2> + <p> + I was to see my old friend, Simon Radevin, of whom I had lost sight for + fifteen years. At one time he was my most intimate friend, the friend who + knows one's thoughts, with whom one passes long, quiet, happy evenings, to + whom one tells one's secret love affairs, and who seems to draw out those + rare, ingenious, delicate thoughts born of that sympathy that gives a + sense of repose. + </p> + <p> + For years we had scarcely been separated; we had lived, travelled, thought + and dreamed together; had liked the same things, had admired the same + books, understood the same authors, trembled with the same sensations, and + very often laughed at the same individuals, whom we understood completely + by merely exchanging a glance. + </p> + <p> + Then he married. He married, quite suddenly, a little girl from the + provinces, who had come to Paris in search of a husband. How in the world + could that little thin, insipidly fair girl, with her weak hands, her + light, vacant eyes, and her clear, silly voice, who was exactly like a + hundred thousand marriageable dolls, have picked up that intelligent, + clever young fellow? Can any one understand these things? No doubt he had + hoped for happiness, simple, quiet and long-enduring happiness, in the + arms of a good, tender and faithful woman; he had seen all that in the + transparent looks of that schoolgirl with light hair. + </p> + <p> + He had not dreamed of the fact that an active, living and vibrating man + grows weary of everything as soon as he understands the stupid reality, + unless, indeed, he becomes so brutalized that he understands nothing + whatever. + </p> + <p> + What would he be like when I met him again? Still lively, witty, + light-hearted and enthusiastic, or in a state of mental torpor induced by + provincial life? A man may change greatly in the course of fifteen years! + </p> + <p> + The train stopped at a small station, and as I got out of the carriage, a + stout, a very stout man with red cheeks and a big stomach rushed up to me + with open arms, exclaiming: “George!” I embraced him, but I + had not recognized him, and then I said, in astonishment: “By Jove! + You have not grown thin!” And he replied with a laugh: + </p> + <p> + “What did you expect? Good living, a good table and good nights! + Eating and sleeping, that is my existence!” + </p> + <p> + I looked at him closely, trying to discover in that broad face the + features I held so dear. His eyes alone had not changed, but I no longer + saw the same expression in them, and I said to myself: “If the + expression be the reflection of the mind, the thoughts in that head are + not what they used to be formerly; those thoughts which I knew so well.” + </p> + <p> + Yet his eyes were bright, full of happiness and friendship, but they had + not that clear, intelligent expression which shows as much as words the + brightness of the intellect. Suddenly he said: + </p> + <p> + “Here are my two eldest children.” A girl of fourteen, who was + almost a woman, and a boy of thirteen, in the dress of a boy from a Lycee, + came forward in a hesitating and awkward manner, and I said in a low + voice: “Are they yours?” “Of course they are,” he + replied, laughing. “How many have you?” “Five! There are + three more at home.” + </p> + <p> + He said this in a proud, self-satisfied, almost triumphant manner, and I + felt profound pity, mingled with a feeling of vague contempt, for this + vainglorious and simple reproducer of his species. + </p> + <p> + I got into a carriage which he drove himself, and we set off through the + town, a dull, sleepy, gloomy town where nothing was moving in the streets + except a few dogs and two or three maidservants. Here and there a + shopkeeper, standing at his door, took off his hat, and Simon returned his + salute and told me the man's name; no doubt to show me that he knew all + the inhabitants personally, and the thought struck me that he was thinking + of becoming a candidate for the Chamber of Deputies, that dream of all + those who bury themselves in the provinces. + </p> + <p> + We were soon out of the town, and the carriage turned into a garden that + was an imitation of a park, and stopped in front of a turreted house, + which tried to look like a chateau. + </p> + <p> + “That is my den,” said Simon, so that I might compliment him + on it. “It is charming,” I replied. + </p> + <p> + A lady appeared on the steps, dressed for company, and with company + phrases all ready prepared. She was no longer the light-haired, insipid + girl I had seen in church fifteen years previously, but a stout lady in + curls and flounces, one of those ladies of uncertain age, without + intellect, without any of those things that go to make a woman. In short, + she was a mother, a stout, commonplace mother, a human breeding machine + which procreates without any other preoccupation but her children and her + cook-book. + </p> + <p> + She welcomed me, and I went into the hall, where three children, ranged + according to their height, seemed set out for review, like firemen before + a mayor, and I said: “Ah! ah! so there are the others?” Simon, + radiant with pleasure, introduced them: “Jean, Sophie and Gontran.” + </p> + <p> + The door of the drawing-room was open. I went in, and in the depths of an + easy-chair, I saw something trembling, a man, an old, paralyzed man. + Madame Radevin came forward and said: “This is my grandfather, + monsieur; he is eighty-seven.” And then she shouted into the shaking + old man's ears: “This is a friend of Simon's, papa.” The old + gentleman tried to say “good-day” to me, and he muttered: + “Oua, oua, oua,” and waved his hand, and I took a seat saying: + “You are very kind, monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + Simon had just come in, and he said with a laugh: “So! You have made + grandpapa's acquaintance. He is a treasure, that old man; he is the + delight of the children. But he is so greedy that he almost kills himself + at every meal; you have no idea what he would eat if he were allowed to do + as he pleased. But you will see, you will see. He looks at all the sweets + as if they were so many girls. You never saw anything so funny; you will + see presently.” + </p> + <p> + I was then shown to my room, to change my dress for dinner, and hearing a + great clatter behind me on the stairs, I turned round and saw that all the + children were following me behind their father; to do me honor, no doubt. + </p> + <p> + My windows looked out across a dreary, interminable plain, an ocean of + grass, of wheat and of oats, without a clump of trees or any rising + ground, a striking and melancholy picture of the life which they must be + leading in that house. + </p> + <p> + A bell rang; it was for dinner, and I went downstairs. Madame Radevin took + my arm in a ceremonious manner, and we passed into the dining-room. A + footman wheeled in the old man in his armchair. He gave a greedy and + curious look at the dessert, as he turned his shaking head with difficulty + from one dish to the other. + </p> + <p> + Simon rubbed his hands: “You will be amused,” he said; and all + the children understanding that I was going to be indulged with the sight + of their greedy grandfather, began to laugh, while their mother merely + smiled and shrugged her shoulders, and Simon, making a speaking trumpet of + his hands, shouted at the old man: “This evening there is sweet + creamed rice!” The wrinkled face of the grandfather brightened, and + he trembled more violently, from head to foot, showing that he had + understood and was very pleased. The dinner began. + </p> + <p> + “Just look!” Simon whispered. The old man did not like the + soup, and refused to eat it; but he was obliged to do it for the good of + his health, and the footman forced the spoon into his mouth, while the old + man blew so energetically, so as not to swallow the soup, that it was + scattered like a spray all over the table and over his neighbors. The + children writhed with laughter at the spectacle, while their father, who + was also amused, said: “Is not the old man comical?” + </p> + <p> + During the whole meal they were taken up solely with him. He devoured the + dishes on the table with his eyes, and tried to seize them and pull them + over to him with his trembling hands. They put them almost within his + reach, to see his useless efforts, his trembling clutches at them, the + piteous appeal of his whole nature, of his eyes, of his mouth and of his + nose as he smelt them, and he slobbered on his table napkin with + eagerness, while uttering inarticulate grunts. And the whole family was + highly amused at this horrible and grotesque scene. + </p> + <p> + Then they put a tiny morsel on his plate, and he ate with feverish + gluttony, in order to get something more as soon as possible, and when the + sweetened rice was brought in, he nearly had a fit, and groaned with + greediness, and Gontran called out to him: + </p> + <p> + “You have eaten too much already; you can have no more.” And + they pretended not to give him any. Then he began to cry; he cried and + trembled more violently than ever, while all the children laughed. At + last, however, they gave him his helping, a very small piece; and as he + ate the first mouthful, he made a comical noise in his throat, and a + movement with his neck as ducks do when they swallow too large a morsel, + and when he had swallowed it, he began to stamp his feet, so as to get + more. + </p> + <p> + I was seized with pity for this saddening and ridiculous Tantalus, and + interposed on his behalf: + </p> + <p> + “Come, give him a little more rice!” But Simon replied: + “Oh! no, my dear fellow, if he were to eat too much, it would harm + him, at his age.” + </p> + <p> + I held my tongue, and thought over those words. Oh, ethics! Oh, logic! Oh, + wisdom! At his age! So they deprived him of his only remaining pleasure + out of regard for his health! His health! What would he do with it, inert + and trembling wreck that he was? They were taking care of his life, so + they said. His life? How many days? Ten, twenty, fifty, or a hundred? Why? + For his own sake? Or to preserve for some time longer the spectacle of his + impotent greediness in the family. + </p> + <p> + There was nothing left for him to do in this life, nothing whatever. He + had one single wish left, one sole pleasure; why not grant him that last + solace until he died? + </p> + <p> + After we had played cards for a long time, I went up to my room and to + bed; I was low-spirited and sad, sad, sad! and I sat at my window. Not a + sound could be heard outside but the beautiful warbling of a bird in a + tree, somewhere in the distance. No doubt the bird was singing in a low + voice during the night, to lull his mate, who was asleep on her eggs. And + I thought of my poor friend's five children, and pictured him to myself, + snoring by the side of his ugly wife. + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0177"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + SUICIDES + </h2> + <div class='ph3'> + To Georges Legrand. + </div> + <p> + Hardly a day goes by without our reading a news item like the following in + some newspaper: + </p> + <p> + “On Wednesday night the people living in No. 40 Rue de——-, + were awakened by two successive shots. The explosions seemed to come from + the apartment occupied by M. X——. The door was broken in and + the man was found bathed in his blood, still holding in one hand the + revolver with which he had taken his life. + </p> + <p> + “M. X——was fifty-seven years of age, enjoying a + comfortable income, and had everything necessary to make him happy. No + cause can be found for his action.” + </p> + <p> + What terrible grief, what unknown suffering, hidden despair, secret wounds + drive these presumably happy persons to suicide? We search, we imagine + tragedies of love, we suspect financial troubles, and, as we never find + anything definite, we apply to these deaths the word “mystery.” + </p> + <p> + A letter found on the desk of one of these “suicides without cause,” + and written during his last night, beside his loaded revolver, has come + into our hands. We deem it rather interesting. It reveals none of those + great catastrophes which we always expect to find behind these acts of + despair; but it shows us the slow succession of the little vexations of + life, the disintegration of a lonely existence, whose dreams have + disappeared; it gives the reason for these tragic ends, which only nervous + and high-strung people can understand. + </p> + <p> + Here it is: + </p> + <p> + “It is midnight. When I have finished this letter I shall kill + myself. Why? I shall attempt to give the reasons, not for those who may + read these lines, but for myself, to kindle my waning courage, to impress + upon myself the fatal necessity of this act which can, at best, be only + deferred. + </p> + <p> + “I was brought up by simple-minded parents who were unquestioning + believers. And I believed as they did. + </p> + <p> + “My dream lasted a long time. The last veil has just been torn from + my eyes. + </p> + <p> + “During the last few years a strange change has been taking place + within me. All the events of Life, which formerly had to me the glow of a + beautiful sunset, are now fading away. The true meaning of things has + appeared to me in its brutal reality; and the true reason for love has + bred in me disgust even for this poetic sentiment: 'We are the eternal + toys of foolish and charming illusions, which are always being renewed.' + </p> + <p> + “On growing older, I had become partly reconciled to the awful + mystery of life, to the uselessness of effort; when the emptiness of + everything appeared to me in a new light, this evening, after dinner. + </p> + <p> + “Formerly, I was happy! Everything pleased me: the passing women, + the appearance of the streets, the place where I lived; and I even took an + interest in the cut of my clothes. But the repetition of the same sights + has had the result of filling my heart with weariness and disgust, just as + one would feel were one to go every night to the same theatre. + </p> + <p> + “For the last thirty years I have been rising at the same hour; and, + at the same restaurant, for thirty years, I have been eating at the same + hours the same dishes brought me by different waiters. + </p> + <p> + “I have tried travel. The loneliness which one feels in strange + places terrified me. I felt so alone, so small on the earth that I quickly + started on my homeward journey. + </p> + <p> + “But here the unchanging expression of my furniture, which has stood + for thirty years in the same place, the smell of my apartments (for, with + time, each dwelling takes on a particular odor) each night, these and + other things disgust me and make me sick of living thus. + </p> + <p> + “Everything repeats itself endlessly. The way in which I put my key + in the lock, the place where I always find my matches, the first object + which meets my eye when I enter the room, make me feel like jumping out of + the window and putting an end to those monotonous events from which we can + never escape. + </p> + <p> + “Each day, when I shave, I feel an inordinate desire to cut my + throat; and my face, which I see in the little mirror, always the same, + with soap on my cheeks, has several times made me weak from sadness. + </p> + <p> + “Now I even hate to be with people whom I used to meet with + pleasure; I know them so well, I can tell just what they are going to say + and what I am going to answer. Each brain is like a circus, where the same + horse keeps circling around eternally. We must circle round always, around + the same ideas, the same joys, the same pleasures, the same habits, the + same beliefs, the same sensations of disgust. + </p> + <p> + “The fog was terrible this evening. It enfolded the boulevard, where + the street lights were dimmed and looked like smoking candles. A heavier + weight than usual oppressed me. Perhaps my digestion was bad. + </p> + <p> + “For good digestion is everything in life. It gives the inspiration + to the artist, amorous desires to young people, clear ideas to thinkers, + the joy of life to everybody, and it also allows one to eat heartily + (which is one of the greatest pleasures). A sick stomach induces + scepticism unbelief, nightmares and the desire for death. I have often + noticed this fact. Perhaps I would not kill myself, if my digestion had + been good this evening. + </p> + <p> + “When I sat down in the arm-chair where I have been sitting every + day for thirty years, I glanced around me, and just then I was seized by + such a terrible distress that I thought I must go mad. + </p> + <p> + “I tried to think of what I could do to run away from myself. Every + occupation struck me as being worse even than inaction. Then I bethought + me of putting my papers in order. + </p> + <p> + “For a long time I have been thinking of clearing out my drawers; + for, for the last thirty years, I have been throwing my letters and bills + pell-mell into the same desk, and this confusion has often caused me + considerable trouble. But I feel such moral and physical laziness at the + sole idea of putting anything in order that I have never had the courage + to begin this tedious business. + </p> + <p> + “I therefore opened my desk, intending to choose among my old papers + and destroy the majority of them. + </p> + <p> + “At first I was bewildered by this array of documents, yellowed by + age, then I chose one. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! if you cherish life, never disturb the burial place of old + letters! + </p> + <p> + “And if, perchance, you should, take the contents by the handful, + close your eyes that you may not read a word, so that you may not + recognize some forgotten handwriting which may plunge you suddenly into a + sea of memories; carry these papers to the fire; and when they are in + ashes, crush them to an invisible powder, or otherwise you are lost—just + as I have been lost for an hour. + </p> + <p> + “The first letters which I read did not interest me greatly. They + were recent, and came from living men whom I still meet quite often, and + whose presence does not move me to any great extent. But all at once one + envelope made me start. My name was traced on it in a large, bold + handwriting; and suddenly tears came to my eyes. That letter was from my + dearest friend, the companion of my youth, the confidant of my hopes; and + he appeared before me so clearly, with his pleasant smile and his hand + outstretched, that a cold shiver ran down my back. Yes, yes, the dead come + back, for I saw him! Our memory is a more perfect world than the universe: + it gives back life to those who no longer exist. + </p> + <p> + “With trembling hand and dimmed eyes I reread everything that he + told me, and in my poor sobbing heart I felt a wound so painful that I + began to groan as a man whose bones are slowly being crushed. + </p> + <p> + “Then I travelled over my whole life, just as one travels along a + river. I recognized people, so long forgotten that I no longer knew their + names. Their faces alone lived in me. In my mother's letters I saw again + the old servants, the shape of our house and the little insignificant odds + and ends which cling to our minds. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I suddenly saw again all my mother's old gowns, the different + styles which she adopted and the several ways in which she dressed her + hair. She haunted me especially in a silk dress, trimmed with old lace; + and I remembered something she said one day when she was wearing this + dress. She said: 'Robert, my child, if you do not stand up straight you + will be round-shouldered all your life.' + </p> + <p> + “Then, opening another drawer, I found myself face to face with + memories of tender passions: a dancing-pump, a torn handkerchief, even a + garter, locks of hair and dried flowers. Then the sweet romances of my + life, whose living heroines are now white-haired, plunged me into the deep + melancholy of things. Oh, the young brows where blond locks curl, the + caress of the hands, the glance which speaks, the hearts which beat, that + smile which promises the lips, those lips which promise the embrace! And + the first kiss-that endless kiss which makes you close your eyes, which + drowns all thought in the immeasurable joy of approaching possession! + </p> + <p> + “Taking these old pledges of former love in both my hands, I covered + them with furious caresses, and in my soul, torn by these memories, I saw + them each again at the hour of surrender; and I suffered a torture more + cruel than all the tortures invented in all the fables about hell. + </p> + <p> + “One last letter remained. It was written by me and dictated fifty + years ago by my writing teacher. Here it is: + </p> +<div class='pre'> + “'MY DEAR LITTLE MAMMA: + + “'I am seven years old to-day. It is the age of reason. I take + advantage of it to thank you for having brought me into this world. + + “'Your little son, who loves you + + “'ROBERT.' +</div> + <p> + “It is all over. I had gone back to the beginning, and suddenly I + turned my glance on what remained to me of life. I saw hideous and lonely + old age, and approaching infirmities, and everything over and gone. And + nobody near me! + </p> + <p> + “My revolver is here, on the table. I am loading it . . . . Never + reread your old letters!” + </p> + <p> + And that is how many men come to kill themselves; and we search in vain to + discover some great sorrow in their lives. + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0178"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + AN ARTIFICE + </h2> + <p> + The old doctor sat by the fireside, talking to his fair patient who was + lying on the lounge. There was nothing much the matter with her, except + that she had one of those little feminine ailments from which pretty women + frequently suffer—slight anaemia, a nervous attack, etc. + </p> + <p> + “No, doctor,” she said; “I shall never be able to + understand a woman deceiving her husband. Even allowing that she does not + love him, that she pays no heed to her vows and promises, how can she give + herself to another man? How can she conceal the intrigue from other + people's eyes? How can it be possible to love amid lies and treason?” + </p> + <p> + The doctor smiled, and replied: “It is perfectly easy, and I can + assure you that a woman does not think of all those little subtle details + when she has made up her mind to go astray. + </p> + <p> + “As for dissimulation, all women have plenty of it on hand for such + occasions, and the simplest of them are wonderful, and extricate + themselves from the greatest dilemmas in a remarkable manner.” + </p> + <p> + The young woman, however, seemed incredulous. + </p> + <p> + “No, doctor,” she said; “one never thinks until after it + has happened of what one ought to have done in a critical situation, and + women are certainly more liable than men to lose their head on such + occasions:” + </p> + <p> + The doctor raised his hands. “After it has happened, you say! Now I + will tell you something that happened to one of my female patients, whom I + always considered an immaculate woman. + </p> + <p> + “It happened in a provincial town, and one night when I was asleep, + in that deep first sleep from which it is so difficult to rouse us, it + seemed to me, in my dreams, as if the bells in the town were sounding a + fire alarm, and I woke up with a start. It was my own bell, which was + ringing wildly, and as my footman did not seem to be answering the door, + I, in turn, pulled the bell at the head of my bed, and soon I heard a + banging, and steps in the silent house, and Jean came into my room, and + handed me a letter which said: 'Madame Lelievre begs Dr. Simeon to come to + her immediately.' + </p> + <p> + “I thought for a few moments, and then I said to myself: 'A nervous + attack, vapors; nonsense, I am too tired.' And so I replied: 'As Dr. + Simeon is not at all well, he must beg Madame Lelievre to be kind enough + to call in his colleague, Monsieur Bonnet.' I put the note into an + envelope and went to sleep again, but about half an hour later the street + bell rang again, and Jean came to me and said: 'There is somebody + downstairs; I do not quite know whether it is a man or a woman, as the + individual is so wrapped up, but they wish to speak to you immediately. + They say it is a matter of life and death for two people.' Whereupon I sat + up in bed and told him to show the person in. + </p> + <p> + “A kind of black phantom appeared and raised her veil as soon as + Jean had left the room. It was Madame Berthe Lelievre, quite a young + woman, who had been married for three years to a large merchant in the + town, who was said to have married the prettiest girl in the neighborhood. + </p> + <p> + “She was terribly pale, her face was contracted as the faces of + insane people are, occasionally, and her hands trembled violently. Twice + she tried to speak without being able to utter a sound, but at last she + stammered out: 'Come—quick—quick, doctor. Come—my—friend + has just died in my bedroom.' She stopped, half suffocated with emotion, + and then went on: 'My husband will be coming home from the club very + soon.' + </p> + <p> + “I jumped out of bed without even considering that I was only in my + nightshirt, and dressed myself in a few moments, and then I said: 'Did you + come a short time ago?' 'No,' she said, standing like a statue petrified + with horror. 'It was my servant—she knows.' And then, after a short + silence, she went on: 'I was there—by his side.' And she uttered a + sort of cry of horror, and after a fit of choking, which made her gasp, + she wept violently, and shook with spasmodic sobs for a minute: or two. + Then her tears suddenly ceased, as if by an internal fire, and with an air + of tragic calmness, she said: 'Let us make haste.' + </p> + <p> + “I was ready, but exclaimed: 'I quite forgot to order my carriage.' + 'I have one,' she said; 'it is his, which was waiting for him!' She + wrapped herself up, so as to completely conceal her face, and we started. + </p> + <p> + “When she was by my side in the carriage she suddenly seized my + hand, and crushing it in her delicate fingers, she said, with a shaking + voice, that proceeded from a distracted heart: 'Oh! if you only knew, if + you only knew what I am suffering! I loved him, I have loved him + distractedly, like a madwoman, for the last six months.' 'Is anyone up in + your house?' I asked. 'No, nobody except those, who knows everything.' + </p> + <p> + “We stopped at the door, and evidently everybody was asleep. We went + in without making any noise, by means of her latch-key, and walked + upstairs on tiptoe. The frightened servant was sitting on the top of the + stairs with a lighted candle by her side, as she was afraid to remain with + the dead man, and I went into the room, which was in great disorder. Wet + towels, with which they had bathed the young man's temples, were lying on + the floor, by the side of a washbasin and a glass, while a strong smell of + vinegar pervaded the room. + </p> + <p> + “The dead man's body was lying at full length in the middle of the + room, and I went up to it, looked at it, and touched it. I opened the eyes + and felt the hands, and then, turning to the two women, who were shaking + as if they were freezing, I said to them: 'Help me to lift him on to the + bed.' When we had laid him gently on it, I listened to his heart and put a + looking-glass to his lips, and then said: 'It is all over.' It was a + terrible sight! + </p> + <p> + “I looked at the man, and said: 'You ought to arrange his hair a + little.' The girl went and brought her mistress' comb and brush, but as + she was trembling, and pulling out his long, matted hair in doing it, + Madame Lelievre took the comb out of her hand, and arranged his hair as if + she were caressing him. She parted it, brushed his beard, rolled his + mustaches gently round her fingers, then, suddenly, letting go of his + hair, she took the dead man's inert head in her hands and looked for a + long time in despair at the dead face, which no longer could smile at her, + and then, throwing herself on him, she clasped him in her arms and kissed + him ardently. Her kisses fell like blows on his closed mouth and eyes, his + forehead and temples; and then, putting her lips to his ear, as if he + could still hear her, and as if she were about to whisper something to + him, she said several times, in a heartrending voice: + </p> + <p> + “'Good-by, my darling!' + </p> + <p> + “Just then the clock struck twelve, and I started up. 'Twelve + o'clock!' I exclaimed. 'That is the time when the club closes. Come, + madame, we have not a moment to lose!' She started up, and I said: + </p> + <p> + “'We must carry him into the drawing-room.' And when we had done + this, I placed him on a sofa, and lit the chandeliers, and just then the + front door was opened and shut noisily. 'Rose, bring me the basin and the + towels, and make the room look tidy. Make haste, for Heaven's sake! + Monsieur Lelievre is coming in.' + </p> + <p> + “I heard his steps on the stairs, and then his hands feeling along + the walls. 'Come here, my dear fellow,' I said; 'we have had an accident.' + </p> + <p> + “And the astonished husband appeared in the door with a cigar in his + mouth, and said: 'What is the matter? What is the meaning of this?' 'My + dear friend,' I said, going up to him, 'you find us in great + embarrassment. I had remained late, chatting with your wife and our + friend, who had brought me in his carriage, when he suddenly fainted, and + in spite of all we have done, he has remained unconscious for two hours. I + did not like to call in strangers, and if you will now help me downstairs + with him, I shall be able to attend to him better at his own house.' + </p> + <p> + “The husband, who was surprised, but quite unsuspicious, took off + his hat, and then he took his rival, who would be quite inoffensive for + the future, under the arms. I got between his two legs, as if I had been a + horse between the shafts, and we went downstairs, while his wife held a + light for us. When we got outside I stood the body up, so as to deceive + the coachman, and said: 'Come, my friend; it is nothing; you feel better + already I expect. Pluck up your courage, and make an effort. It will soon + be over.' But as I felt that he was slipping out of my hands, I gave him a + slap on the shoulder, which sent him forward and made him fall into the + carriage, and then I got in after him. Monsieur Lelievre, who was rather + alarmed, said to me: 'Do you think it is anything serious?' To which I + replied: 'No,' with a smile, as I looked at his wife, who had put her arm + into that of her husband, and was trying to see into the carriage. + </p> + <p> + “I shook hands with them and told my coachman to start, and during + the whole drive the dead man kept falling against me. When we got to his + house I said that he had become unconscious on the way home, and helped to + carry him upstairs, where I certified that he was dead, and acted another + comedy to his distracted family, and at last I got back to bed, not + without swearing at lovers.” + </p> + <p> + The doctor ceased, though he was still smiling, and the young woman, who + was in a very nervous state, said: “Why have you told me that + terrible story?” + </p> + <p> + He gave her a gallant bow, and replied: + </p> + <p> + “So that I may offer you my services if they should be needed.” + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0179"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + DREAMS + </h2> + <p> + They had just dined together, five old friends, a writer, a doctor and + three rich bachelors without any profession. + </p> + <p> + They had talked about everything, and a feeling of lassitude came over + them, that feeling which precedes and leads to the departure of guests + after festive gatherings. One of those present, who had for the last five + minutes been gazing silently at the surging boulevard dotted with + gas-lamps, with its rattling vehicles, said suddenly: + </p> + <p> + “When you've nothing to do from morning till night, the days are + long.” + </p> + <p> + “And the nights too,” assented the guest who sat next to him. + “I sleep very little; pleasures fatigue me; conversation is + monotonous. Never do I come across a new idea, and I feel, before talking + to any one, a violent longing to say nothing and to listen to nothing. I + don't know what to do with my evenings.” + </p> + <p> + The third idler remarked: + </p> + <p> + “I would pay a great deal for anything that would help me to pass + just two pleasant hours every day.” + </p> + <p> + The writer, who had just thrown his overcoat across his arm, turned round + to them, and said: + </p> + <p> + “The man who could discover a new vice and introduce it among his + fellow creatures, even if it were to shorten their lives, would render a + greater service to humanity than the man who found the means of securing + to them eternal salvation and eternal youth.” + </p> + <p> + The doctor burst out laughing, and, while he chewed his cigar, he said: + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but it is not so easy to discover it. Men have however + crudely, been seeking for—and working for the object you refer to + since the beginning of the world. The men who came first reached + perfection at once in this way. We are hardly equal to them.” + </p> + <p> + One of the three idlers murmured: + </p> + <p> + “What a pity!” + </p> + <p> + Then, after a minute's pause, he added: + </p> + <p> + “If we could only sleep, sleep well, without feeling hot or cold, + sleep with that perfect unconsciousness we experience on nights when we + are thoroughly fatigued, sleep without dreams.” + </p> + <p> + “Why without dreams?” asked the guest sitting next to him. + </p> + <p> + The other replied: + </p> + <p> + “Because dreams are not always pleasant; they are always fantastic, + improbable, disconnected; and because when we are asleep we cannot have + the sort of dreams we like. We ought to dream waking.” + </p> + <p> + “And what's to prevent you?” asked the writer. + </p> + <p> + The doctor flung away the end of his cigar. + </p> + <p> + “My dear fellow, in order to dream when you are awake, you need + great power and great exercise of will, and when you try to do it, great + weariness is the result. Now, real dreaming, that journey of our thoughts + through delightful visions, is assuredly the sweetest experience in the + world; but it must come naturally, it must not be provoked in a painful, + manner, and must be accompanied by absolute bodily comfort. This power of + dreaming I can give you, provided you promise that you will not abuse it.” + </p> + <p> + The writer shrugged his shoulders: + </p> + <p> + “Ah! yes, I know—hasheesh, opium, green tea—artificial + paradises. I have read Baudelaire, and I even tasted the famous drug, + which made me very sick.” + </p> + <p> + But the doctor, without stirring from his seat, said: + </p> + <p> + “No; ether, nothing but ether; and I would suggest that you literary + men should use it sometimes.” + </p> + <p> + The three rich bachelors drew closer to the doctor. + </p> + <p> + One of them said: + </p> + <p> + “Explain to us the effects of it.” + </p> + <p> + And the doctor replied: + </p> + <p> + “Let us put aside big words, shall we not? I am not talking of + medicine or morality; I am talking of pleasure. You give yourselves up + every day to excesses which consume your lives. I want to indicate to you + a new sensation, possible only to intelligent men—let us say even + very intelligent men—dangerous, like everything else that + overexcites our organs, but exquisite. I might add that you would require + a certain preparation, that is to say, practice, to feel in all their + completeness the singular effects of ether. + </p> + <p> + “They are different from the effects of hasheesh, of opium, or + morphia, and they cease as soon as the absorption of the drug is + interrupted, while the other generators of day dreams continue their + action for hours. + </p> + <p> + “I am now going to try to analyze these feelings as clearly as + possible. But the thing is not easy, so facile, so delicate, so almost + imperceptible, are these sensations. + </p> + <p> + “It was when I was attacked by violent neuralgia that I made use of + this remedy, which since then I have, perhaps, slightly abused. + </p> + <p> + “I had acute pains in my head and neck, and an intolerable heat of + the skin, a feverish restlessness. I took up a large bottle of ether, and, + lying down, I began to inhale it slowly. + </p> + <p> + “At the end of some minutes I thought I heard a vague murmur, which + ere long became a sort of humming, and it seemed to me that all the + interior of my body had become light, light as air, that it was dissolving + into vapor. + </p> + <p> + “Then came a sort of torpor, a sleepy sensation of comfort, in spite + of the pains which still continued, but which had ceased to make + themselves felt. It was one of those sensations which we are willing to + endure and not any of those frightful wrenches against which our tortured + body protests. + </p> + <p> + “Soon the strange and delightful sense of emptiness which I felt in + my chest extended to my limbs, which, in their turn, became light, as + light as if the flesh and the bones had been melted and the skin only were + left, the skin necessary to enable me to realize the sweetness of living, + of bathing in this sensation of well-being. Then I perceived that I was no + longer suffering. The pain had gone, melted away, evaporated. And I heard + voices, four voices, two dialogues, without understanding what was said. + At one time there were only indistinct sounds, at another time a word + reached my ear. But I recognized that this was only the humming I had + heard before, but emphasized. I was not asleep; I was not awake; I + comprehended, I felt, I reasoned with the utmost clearness and depth, with + extraordinary energy and intellectual pleasure, with a singular + intoxication arising from this separation of my mental faculties. + </p> + <p> + “It was not like the dreams caused by hasheesh or the somewhat + sickly visions that come from opium; it was an amazing acuteness of + reasoning, a new way of seeing, judging and appreciating the things of + life, and with the certainty, the absolute consciousness that this was the + true way. + </p> + <p> + “And the old image of the Scriptures suddenly came back to my mind. + It seemed to me that I had tasted of the Tree of Knowledge, that all the + mysteries were unveiled, so much did I find myself under the sway of a + new, strange and irrefutable logic. And arguments, reasonings, proofs rose + up in a heap before my brain only to be immediately displaced by some + stronger proof, reasoning, argument. My head had, in fact, become a + battleground of ideas. I was a superior being, armed with invincible + intelligence, and I experienced a huge delight at the manifestation of my + power. + </p> + <p> + “It lasted a long, long time. I still kept inhaling the ether from + my flagon. Suddenly I perceived that it was empty.” + </p> + <p> + The four men exclaimed at the same time: + </p> + <p> + “Doctor, a prescription at once for a liter of ether!” + </p> + <p> + But the doctor, putting on his hat, replied: + </p> + <p> + “As to that, certainly not; go and let some one else poison you!” + </p> + <p> + And he left them. + </p> + <p> + Ladies and gentlemen, what is your opinion on the subject? + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0180"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + SIMON'S PAPA + </h2> + <p> + Noon had just struck. The school door opened and the youngsters darted + out, jostling each other in their haste to get out quickly. But instead of + promptly dispersing and going home to dinner as usual, they stopped a few + paces off, broke up into knots, and began whispering. + </p> + <p> + The fact was that, that morning, Simon, the son of La Blanchotte, had, for + the first time, attended school. + </p> + <p> + They had all of them in their families heard talk of La Blanchotte; and, + although in public she was welcome enough, the mothers among themselves + treated her with a somewhat disdainful compassion, which the children had + imitated without in the least knowing why. + </p> + <p> + As for Simon himself, they did not know him, for he never went out, and + did not run about with them in the streets of the village, or along the + banks of the river. And they did not care for him; so it was with a + certain delight, mingled with considerable astonishment, that they met and + repeated to each other what had been said by a lad of fourteen or fifteen + who appeared to know all about it, so sagaciously did he wink. “You + know—Simon—well, he has no papa.” + </p> + <p> + Just then La Blanchotte's son appeared in the doorway of the school. + </p> + <p> + He was seven or eight years old, rather pale, very neat, with a timid and + almost awkward manner. + </p> + <p> + He was starting home to his mother's house when the groups of his + schoolmates, whispering and watching him with the mischievous and + heartless eyes of children bent upon playing a nasty trick, gradually + closed in around him and ended by surrounding him altogether. There he + stood in their midst, surprised and embarrassed, not understanding what + they were going to do with him. But the lad who had brought the news, + puffed up with the success he had met with already, demanded: + </p> + <p> + “What is your name, you?” + </p> + <p> + He answered: “Simon.” + </p> + <p> + “Simon what?” retorted the other. + </p> + <p> + The child, altogether bewildered, repeated: “Simon.” + </p> + <p> + The lad shouted at him: “One is named Simon something—that is + not a name—Simon indeed.” + </p> + <p> + The child, on the brink of tears, replied for the third time: + </p> + <p> + “My name is Simon.” + </p> + <p> + The urchins began to laugh. The triumphant tormentor cried: “You can + see plainly that he has no papa.” + </p> + <p> + A deep silence ensued. The children were dumfounded by this extraordinary, + impossible, monstrous thing—a boy who had not a papa; they looked + upon him as a phenomenon, an unnatural being, and they felt that hitherto + inexplicable contempt of their mothers for La Blanchotte growing upon + them. As for Simon, he had leaned against a tree to avoid falling, and he + remained as if prostrated by an irreparable disaster. He sought to + explain, but could think of nothing-to say to refute this horrible charge + that he had no papa. At last he shouted at them quite recklessly: “Yes, + I have one.” + </p> + <p> + “Where is he?” demanded the boy. + </p> + <p> + Simon was silent, he did not know. The children roared, tremendously + excited; and those country boys, little more than animals, experienced + that cruel craving which prompts the fowls of a farmyard to destroy one of + their number as soon as it is wounded. Simon suddenly espied a little + neighbor, the son of a widow, whom he had seen, as he himself was to be + seen, always alone with his mother. + </p> + <p> + “And no more have you,” he said; “no more have you a + papa.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” replied the other, “I have one.” + </p> + <p> + “Where is he?” rejoined Simon. + </p> + <p> + “He is dead,” declared the brat, with superb dignity; “he + is in the cemetery, is my papa.” + </p> + <p> + A murmur of approval rose among the little wretches as if this fact of + possessing a papa dead in a cemetery had caused their comrade to grow big + enough to crush the other one who had no papa at all. And these boys, + whose fathers were for the most part bad men, drunkards, thieves, and who + beat their wives, jostled each other to press closer and closer, as though + they, the legitimate ones, would smother by their pressure one who was + illegitimate. + </p> + <p> + The boy who chanced to be next Simon suddenly put his tongue out at him + with a mocking air and shouted at him: + </p> + <p> + “No papa! No papa!” + </p> + <p> + Simon seized him by the hair with both hands and set to work to disable + his legs with kicks, while he bit his cheek ferociously. A tremendous + struggle ensued between the two combatants, and Simon found himself + beaten, torn, bruised, rolled on the ground in the midst of the ring of + applauding schoolboys. As he arose, mechanically brushing with his hand + his little blouse all covered with dust, some one shouted at him: + </p> + <p> + “Go and tell your papa.” + </p> + <p> + Then he felt a great sinking at his heart. They were stronger than he was, + they had beaten him, and he had no answer to give them, for he knew well + that it was true that he had no papa. Full of pride, he attempted for some + moments to struggle against the tears which were choking him. He had a + feeling of suffocation, and then without any sound he commenced to weep, + with great shaking sobs. A ferocious joy broke out among his enemies, and, + with one accord, just like savages in their fearful festivals, they took + each other by the hand and danced round him in a circle, repeating as a + refrain: + </p> + <p> + “No papa! No papa!” + </p> + <p> + But suddenly Simon ceased sobbing. He became ferocious. There were stones + under his feet; he picked them up and with all his strength hurled them at + his tormentors. Two or three were struck and rushed off yelling, and so + formidable did he appear that the rest became panic-stricken. Cowards, as + the mob always is in presence of an exasperated man, they broke up and + fled. Left alone, the little fellow without a father set off running + toward the fields, for a recollection had been awakened in him which + determined his soul to a great resolve. He made up his mind to drown + himself in the river. + </p> + <p> + He remembered, in fact, that eight days before, a poor devil who begged + for his livelihood had thrown himself into the water because he had no + more money. Simon had been there when they fished him out again; and the + wretched man, who usually seemed to him so miserable, and ugly, had then + struck him as being so peaceful with his pale cheeks, his long drenched + beard, and his open eyes full of calm. The bystanders had said: + </p> + <p> + “He is dead.” + </p> + <p> + And some one had said: + </p> + <p> + “He is quite happy now.” + </p> + <p> + And Simon wished to drown himself also, because he had no father, just + like the wretched being who had no money. + </p> + <p> + He reached the water and watched it flowing. Some fish were sporting + briskly in the clear stream and occasionally made a little bound and + caught the flies flying on the surface. He stopped crying in order to + watch them, for their maneuvers interested him greatly. But, at intervals, + as in a tempest intervals of calm alternate suddenly with tremendous gusts + of wind, which snap off the trees and then lose themselves in the horizon, + this thought would return to him with intense pain: + </p> + <p> + “I am going to drown myself because I have no papa.” + </p> + <p> + It was very warm, fine weather. The pleasant sunshine warmed the grass. + The water shone like a mirror. And Simon enjoyed some minutes of + happiness, of that languor which follows weeping, and felt inclined to + fall asleep there upon the grass in the warm sunshine. + </p> + <p> + A little green frog leaped from under his feet. He endeavored to catch it. + It escaped him. He followed it and lost it three times in succession. At + last he caught it by one of its hind legs and began to laugh as he saw the + efforts the creature made to escape. It gathered itself up on its hind + legs and then with a violent spring suddenly stretched them out as stiff + as two bars; while it beat the air with its front legs as though they were + hands, its round eyes staring in their circle of yellow. It reminded him + of a toy made of straight slips of wood nailed zigzag one on the other; + which by a similar movement regulated the movements of the little soldiers + fastened thereon. Then he thought of his home, and then of his mother, + and, overcome by sorrow, he again began to weep. A shiver passed over him. + He knelt down and said his prayers as before going to bed. But he was + unable to finish them, for tumultuous, violent sobs shook his whole frame. + He no longer thought, he no longer saw anything around him, and was wholly + absorbed in crying. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly a heavy hand was placed upon his shoulder, and a rough voice + asked him: + </p> + <p> + “What is it that causes you so much grief, my little man?” + </p> + <p> + Simon turned round. A tall workman with a beard and black curly hair was + staring at him good-naturedly. He answered with his eyes and throat full + of tears: + </p> + <p> + “They beat me—because—I—I have no—papa—no + papa.” + </p> + <p> + “What!” said the man, smiling; “why, everybody has one.” + </p> + <p> + The child answered painfully amid his spasms of grief: + </p> + <p> + “But I—I—I have none.” + </p> + <p> + Then the workman became serious. He had recognized La Blanchotte's son, + and, although himself a new arrival in the neighborhood, he had a vague + idea of her history. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said he, “console yourself, my boy, and come + with me home to your mother. They will give you—a papa.” + </p> + <p> + And so they started on the way, the big fellow holding the little fellow + by the hand, and the man smiled, for he was not sorry to see this + Blanchotte, who was, it was said, one of the prettiest girls of the + countryside, and, perhaps, he was saying to himself, at the bottom of his + heart, that a lass who had erred might very well err again. + </p> + <p> + They arrived in front of a very neat little white house. + </p> + <p> + “There it is,” exclaimed the child, and he cried, “Mamma!” + </p> + <p> + A woman appeared, and the workman instantly left off smiling, for he saw + at once that there was no fooling to be done with the tall pale girl who + stood austerely at her door as though to defend from one man the threshold + of that house where she had already been betrayed by another. Intimidated, + his cap in his hand, he stammered out: + </p> + <p> + “See, madame, I have brought you back your little boy who had lost + himself near the river.” + </p> + <p> + But Simon flung his arms about his mother's neck and told her, as he again + began to cry: + </p> + <p> + “No, mamma, I wished to drown myself, because the others had beaten + me —had beaten me—because I have no papa.” + </p> + <p> + A burning redness covered the young woman's cheeks; and, hurt to the + quick, she embraced her child passionately, while the tears coursed down + her face. The man, much moved, stood there, not knowing how to get away. + </p> + <p> + But Simon suddenly ran to him and said: + </p> + <p> + “Will you be my papa?” + </p> + <p> + A deep silence ensued. La Blanchotte, dumb and tortured with shame, leaned + herself against the wall, both her hands upon her heart. The child, seeing + that no answer was made him, replied: + </p> + <p> + “If you will not, I shall go back and drown myself.” + </p> + <p> + The workman took the matter as a jest and answered, laughing: + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes, certainly I will.” + </p> + <p> + “What is your name,” went on the child, “so that I may + tell the others when they wish to know your name?” + </p> + <p> + “Philip,” answered the man: + </p> + <p> + Simon was silent a moment so that he might get the name well into his + head; then he stretched out his arms, quite consoled, as he said: + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, Philip, you are my papa.” + </p> + <p> + The workman, lifting him from the ground, kissed him hastily on both + cheeks, and then walked away very quickly with great strides. When the + child returned to school next day he was received with a spiteful laugh, + and at the end of school, when the lads were on the point of recommencing, + Simon threw these words at their heads as he would have done a stone: + “He is named Philip, my papa.” + </p> + <p> + Yells of delight burst out from all sides. + </p> + <p> + “Philip who? Philip what? What on earth is Philip? Where did you + pick up your Philip?” + </p> + <p> + Simon answered nothing; and, immovable in his faith, he defied them with + his eye, ready to be martyred rather than fly before them. The school + master came to his rescue and he returned home to his mother. + </p> + <p> + During three months, the tall workman, Philip, frequently passed by La + Blanchotte's house, and sometimes he made bold to speak to her when he saw + her sewing near the window. She answered him civilly, always sedately, + never joking with him, nor permitting him to enter her house. + Notwithstanding, being, like all men, a bit of a coxcomb, he imagined that + she was often rosier than usual when she chatted with him. + </p> + <p> + But a lost reputation is so difficult to regain and always remains so + fragile that, in spite of the shy reserve of La Blanchotte, they already + gossiped in the neighborhood. + </p> + <p> + As for Simon he loved his new papa very much, and walked with him nearly + every evening when the day's work was done. He went regularly to school, + and mixed with great dignity with his schoolfellows without ever answering + them back. + </p> + <p> + One day, however, the lad who had first attacked him said to him: + </p> + <p> + “You have lied. You have not a papa named Philip.” + </p> + <p> + “Why do you say that?” demanded Simon, much disturbed. + </p> + <p> + The youth rubbed his hands. He replied: + </p> + <p> + “Because if you had one he would be your mamma's husband.” + </p> + <p> + Simon was confused by the truth of this reasoning; nevertheless, he + retorted: + </p> + <p> + “He is my papa, all the same.” + </p> + <p> + “That can very well be,” exclaimed the urchin with a sneer, + “but that is not being your papa altogether.” + </p> + <p> + La Blanchotte's little one bowed his head and went off dreaming in the + direction of the forge belonging to old Loizon, where Philip worked. This + forge was as though buried beneath trees. It was very dark there; the red + glare of a formidable furnace alone lit up with great flashes five + blacksmiths; who hammered upon their anvils with a terrible din. They were + standing enveloped in flame, like demons, their eyes fixed on the red-hot + iron they were pounding; and their dull ideas rose and fell with their + hammers. + </p> + <p> + Simon entered without being noticed, and went quietly to pluck his friend + by the sleeve. The latter turned round. All at once the work came to a + standstill, and all the men looked on, very attentive. Then, in the midst + of this unaccustomed silence, rose the slender pipe of Simon: + </p> + <p> + “Say, Philip, the Michaude boy told me just now that you were not + altogether my papa.” + </p> + <p> + “Why not?” asked the blacksmith, + </p> + <p> + The child replied with all innocence: + </p> + <p> + “Because you are not my mamma's husband.” + </p> + <p> + No one laughed. Philip remained standing, leaning his forehead upon the + back of his great hands, which supported the handle of his hammer standing + upright upon the anvil. He mused. His four companions watched him, and + Simon, a tiny mite among these giants, anxiously waited. Suddenly, one of + the smiths, answering to the sentiment of all, said to Philip: + </p> + <p> + “La Blanchotte is a good, honest girl, and upright and steady in + spite of her misfortune, and would make a worthy wife for an honest man.” + </p> + <p> + “That is true,” remarked the three others. + </p> + <p> + The smith continued: + </p> + <p> + “Is it the girl's fault if she went wrong? She had been promised + marriage; and I know more than one who is much respected to-day, and who + sinned every bit as much.” + </p> + <p> + “That is true,” responded the three men in chorus. + </p> + <p> + He resumed: + </p> + <p> + “How hard she has toiled, poor thing, to bring up her child all + alone, and how she has wept all these years she has never gone out except + to church, God only knows.” + </p> + <p> + “This is also true,” said the others. + </p> + <p> + Then nothing was heard but the bellows which fanned the fire of the + furnace. Philip hastily bent himself down to Simon: + </p> + <p> + “Go and tell your mother that I am coming to speak to her this + evening.” Then he pushed the child out by the shoulders. He returned + to his work, and with a single blow the five hammers again fell upon their + anvils. Thus they wrought the iron until nightfall, strong, powerful, + happy, like contented hammers. But just as the great bell of a cathedral + resounds upon feast days above the jingling of the other bells, so + Philip's hammer, sounding above the rest, clanged second after second with + a deafening uproar. And he stood amid the flying sparks plying his trade + vigorously. + </p> + <p> + The sky was full of stars as he knocked at La Blanchotte's door. He had on + his Sunday blouse, a clean shirt, and his beard was trimmed. The young + woman showed herself upon the threshold, and said in a grieved tone: + </p> + <p> + “It is ill to come thus when night has fallen, Mr. Philip.” + </p> + <p> + He wished to answer, but stammered and stood confused before her. + </p> + <p> + She resumed: + </p> + <p> + “You understand, do you not, that it will not do for me to be talked + about again.” + </p> + <p> + “What does that matter to me, if you will be my wife!” + </p> + <p> + No voice replied to him, but he believed that he heard in the shadow of + the room the sound of a falling body. He entered quickly; and Simon, who + had gone to bed, distinguished the sound of a kiss and some words that his + mother murmured softly. Then, all at once, he found himself lifted up by + the hands of his friend, who, holding him at the length of his herculean + arms, exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “You will tell them, your schoolmates, that your papa is Philip + Remy, the blacksmith, and that he will pull the ears of all who do you any + harm.” + </p> + <p> + On the morrow, when the school was full and lessons were about to begin, + little Simon stood up, quite pale with trembling lips: + </p> + <p> + “My papa,” said he in a clear voice, “is Philip Remy, + the blacksmith, and he has promised to pull the ears of all who does me + any harm.” + </p> + <p> + This time no one laughed, for he was very well known, was Philip Remy, the + blacksmith, and was a papa of whom any one in the world would have been + proud. + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0181"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + ORIGINAL SHORT STORIES, Vol. 12. + </h2> +<div class='pre'> + GUY DE MAUPASSANT + ORIGINAL SHORT STORIES + Translated by + ALBERT M. C. McMASTER, B.A. + A. E. HENDERSON, B.A. + MME. QUESADA and Others +</div> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0182"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + VOLUME XII. + </h2> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0183"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + THE CHILD + </h2> + <p> + Lemonnier had remained a widower with one child. He had loved his wife + devotedly, with a tender and exalted love, without a slip, during their + entire married life. He was a good, honest man, perfectly simple, sincere, + without suspicion or malice. + </p> + <p> + He fell in love with a poor neighbor, proposed and was accepted. He was + making a very comfortable living out of the wholesale cloth business, and + he did not for a minute suspect that the young girl might have accepted + him for anything else but himself. + </p> + <p> + She made him happy. She was everything to him; he only thought of her, + looked at her continually, with worshiping eyes. During meals he would + make any number of blunders, in order not to have to take his eyes from + the beloved face; he would pour the wine in his plate and the water in the + salt-cellar, then he would laugh like a child, repeating: + </p> + <p> + “You see, I love you too much; that makes me crazy.” + </p> + <p> + She would smile with a calm and resigned look; then she would look away, + as though embarrassed by the adoration of her husband, and try to make him + talk about something else; but he would take her hand under the table and + he would hold it in his, whispering: + </p> + <p> + “My little Jeanne, my darling little Jeanne!” + </p> + <p> + She sometimes lost patience and said: + </p> + <p> + “Come, come, be reasonable; eat and let me eat.” + </p> + <p> + He would sigh and break off a mouthful of bread, which he would then chew + slowly. + </p> + <p> + For five years they had no children. Then suddenly she announced to him + that this state of affairs would soon cease. He was wild with joy. He no + longer left her for a minute, until his old nurse, who had brought him up + and who often ruled the house, would push him out and close the door + behind him, in order to compel him to go out in the fresh air. + </p> + <p> + He had grown very intimate with a young man who had known his wife since + childhood, and who was one of the prefect's secretaries. M. Duretour would + dine three times a week with the Lemonniers, bringing flowers to madame, + and sometimes a box at the theater; and often, at the end of the dinner, + Lemonnier, growing tender, turning towards his wife, would explain: + “With a companion like you and a friend like him, a man is + completely happy on earth.” + </p> + <p> + She died in childbirth. The shock almost killed him. But the sight of the + child, a poor, moaning little creature, gave him courage. + </p> + <p> + He loved it with a passionate and sorrowful love, with a morbid love in + which stuck the memory of death, but in which lived something of his + worship for the dead mother. It was the flesh of his wife, her being + continued, a sort of quintessence of herself. This child was her very life + transferred to another body; she had disappeared that it might exist, and + the father would smother it in with kisses. But also, this child had + killed her; he had stolen this beloved creature, his life was at the cost + of hers. And M. Lemonnier would place his son in the cradle and would sit + down and watch him. He would sit this way by the hour, looking at him, + dreaming of thousands of things, sweet or sad. Then, when the little one + was asleep, he would bend over him and sob. + </p> + <p> + The child grew. The father could no longer spend an hour away from him; he + would stay near him, take him out for walks, and himself dress him, wash + him, make him eat. His friend, M. Duretour, also seemed to love the boy; + he would kiss him wildly, in those frenzies of tenderness which are + characteristic of parents. He would toss him in his arms, he would trot + him on his knees, by the hour, and M. Lemonnier, delighted, would mutter: + </p> + <p> + “Isn't he a darling? Isn't he a darling?” + </p> + <p> + And M. Duretour would hug the child in his arms and tickle his neck with + his mustache. + </p> + <p> + Celeste, the old nurse, alone, seemed to have no tenderness for the little + one. She would grow angry at his pranks, and seemed impatient at the + caresses of the two men. She would exclaim: + </p> + <p> + “How can you expect to bring a child up like that? You'll make a + perfect monkey out of him.” + </p> + <p> + Years went by, and Jean was nine years old. He hardly knew how to read; he + had been so spoiled, and only did as he saw fit. He was willful, stubborn + and quick-tempered. The father always gave in to him and let him have his + own way. M. Duretour would always buy him all the toys he wished, and he + fed him on cake and candies. Then Celeste would grow angry and exclaim: + </p> + <p> + “It's a shame, monsieur, a shame. You are spoiling this child. But + it will have to stop; yes, sir, I tell you it will have to stop, and + before long, too.” + </p> + <p> + M. Lemonnier would answer, smiling: + </p> + <p> + “What can you expect? I love him too much, I can't resist him; you + must get used to it.” + </p> + <p> + Jean was delicate, rather. The doctor said that he was anaemic, prescribed + iron, rare meat and broth. + </p> + <p> + But the little fellow loved only cake and refused all other nourishment; + and the father, in despair, stuffed him with cream-puffs and chocolate + eclairs. + </p> + <p> + One evening, as they were sitting down to supper, Celeste brought on the + soup with an air of authority and an assurance which she did not usually + have. She took off the cover and, dipping the ladle into the dish, she + declared: + </p> + <p> + “Here is some broth such as I have never made; the young one will + have to take some this time.” + </p> + <p> + M. Lemonnier, frightened, bent his head. He saw a storm brewing. + </p> + <p> + Celeste took his plate, filled it herself and placed it in front of him. + </p> + <p> + He tasted the soup and said: + </p> + <p> + “It is, indeed, excellent.” + </p> + <p> + The servant took the boy's plate and poured a spoonful of soup in it. Then + she retreated a few steps and waited. + </p> + <p> + Jean smelled the food and pushed his plate away with an expression of + disgust. Celeste, suddenly pale, quickly stepped forward and forcibly + poured a spoonful down the child's open mouth. + </p> + <p> + He choked, coughed, sneezed, spat; howling, he seized his glass and threw + it at his nurse. She received it full in the stomach. Then, exasperated, + she took the young shaver's head under her arm and began pouring spoonful + after spoonful of soup down his throat. He grew as red as a beet, and he + would cough it up, stamping, twisting, choking, beating the air with his + hands. + </p> + <p> + At first the father was so surprised that he could not move. Then, + suddenly, he rushed forward, wild with rage, seized the servant by the + throat and threw her up against the wall stammering: + </p> + <p> + “Out! Out! Out! you brute!” + </p> + <p> + But she shook him off, and, her hair streaming down her back, her eyes + snapping, she cried out: + </p> + <p> + “What's gettin' hold of you? You're trying to thrash me because I am + making this child eat soup when you are filling him with sweet stuff!” + </p> + <p> + He kept repeating, trembling from head to foot: + </p> + <p> + “Out! Get out-get out, you brute!” + </p> + <p> + Then, wild, she turned to him and, pushing her face up against his, her + voice trembling: + </p> + <p> + “Ah!—you think-you think that you can treat me like that? Oh! + no. And for whom?—for that brat who is not even yours. No, not + yours! No, not yours—not yours! Everybody knows it, except yourself! + Ask the grocer, the butcher, the baker, all of them, any one of them!” + </p> + <p> + She was growling and mumbling, choked with passion; then she stopped and + looked at him. + </p> + <p> + He was motionless livid, his arms hanging by his sides. After a short + pause, he murmured in a faint, shaky voice, instinct with deep feeling: + </p> + <p> + “You say? you say? What do you say?” + </p> + <p> + She remained silent, frightened by his appearance. Once more he stepped + forward, repeating: + </p> + <p> + “You say—what do you say?” + </p> + <p> + Then in a calm voice, she answered: + </p> + <p> + “I say what I know, what everybody knows.” + </p> + <p> + He seized her and, with the fury of a beast, he tried to throw her down. + But, although old, she was strong and nimble. She slipped under his arm, + and running around the table once more furious, she screamed: + </p> + <p> + “Look at him, just look at him, fool that you are! Isn't he the + living image of M. Durefour? just look at his nose and his eyes! Are yours + like that? And his hair! Is it like his mother's? I tell you that everyone + knows it, everyone except yourself! It's the joke of the town! Look at + him!” + </p> + <p> + She went to the door, opened it, and disappeared. + </p> + <p> + Jean, frightened, sat motionless before his plate of soup. + </p> + <p> + At the end of an hour, she returned gently, to see how matters stood. The + child, after doing away with all the cakes and a pitcher full of cream and + one of syrup, was now emptying the jam-pot with his soup-spoon. + </p> + <p> + The father had gone out. + </p> + <p> + Celeste took the child, kissed him, and gently carried him to his room and + put him to bed. She came back to the dining-room, cleared the table, put + everything in place, feeling very uneasy all the time. + </p> + <p> + Not a single sound could be heard throughout the house. She put her ear + against her master's door. He seemed to be perfectly still. She put her + eye to the keyhole. He was writing, and seemed very calm. + </p> + <p> + Then she returned to the kitchen and sat down, ready for any emergency. + She slept on a chair and awoke at daylight. + </p> + <p> + She did the rooms as she had been accustomed to every morning; she swept + and dusted, and, towards eight o'clock, prepared M. Lemonnier's breakfast. + </p> + <p> + But she did not dare bring it to her master, knowing too well how she + would be received; she waited for him to ring. But he did not ring. Nine + o'clock, then ten o'clock went by. + </p> + <p> + Celeste, not knowing what to think, prepared her tray and started up with + it, her heart beating fast. + </p> + <p> + She stopped before the door and listened. Everything was still. She + knocked; no answer. Then, gathering up all her courage, she opened the + door and entered. With a wild shriek, she dropped the breakfast tray which + she had been holding in her hand. + </p> + <p> + In the middle of the room, M. Lemonnier was hanging by a rope from a ring + in the ceiling. His tongue was sticking out horribly. His right slipper + was lying on the ground, his left one still on his foot. An upturned chair + had rolled over to the bed. + </p> + <p> + Celeste, dazed, ran away shrieking. All the neighbors crowded together. + The physician declared that he had died at about midnight. + </p> + <p> + A letter addressed to M. Duretdur was found on the table of the suicide. + It contained these words: + </p> + <p> + “I leave and entrust the child to you!” + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0184"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + A COUNTRY EXCURSION + </h2> + <p> + For five months they had been talking of going to take luncheon in one of + the country suburbs of Paris on Madame Dufour's birthday, and as they were + looking forward very impatiently to the outing, they rose very early that + morning. Monsieur Dufour had borrowed the milkman's wagon and drove + himself. It was a very tidy, two-wheeled conveyance, with a cover + supported by four iron rods, with curtains that had been drawn up, except + the one at the back, which floated out like a sail. Madame Dufour, + resplendent in a wonderful, cherry colored silk dress, sat by the side of + her husband. + </p> + <p> + The old grandmother and a girl sat behind them on two chairs, and a boy + with yellow hair was lying at the bottom of the wagon, with nothing to be + seen of him except his head. + </p> + <p> + When they reached the bridge of Neuilly, Monsieur Dufour said: “Here + we are in the country at last!” and at that signal his wife grew + sentimental about the beauties of nature. When they got to the crossroads + at Courbevoie they were seized with admiration for the distant landscape. + On the right was Argenteuil with its bell tower, and above it rose the + hills of Sannois and the mill of Orgemont, while on the left the aqueduct + of Marly stood out against the clear morning sky, and in the distance they + could see the terrace of Saint-Germain; and opposite them, at the end of a + low chain of hills, the new fort of Cormeilles. Quite in the distance; a + very long way off, beyond the plains and village, one could see the sombre + green of the forests. + </p> + <p> + The sun was beginning to burn their faces, the dust got into their eyes, + and on either side of the road there stretched an interminable tract of + bare, ugly country with an unpleasant odor. One might have thought that it + had been ravaged by a pestilence, which had even attacked the buildings, + for skeletons of dilapidated and deserted houses, or small cottages, which + were left in an unfinished state, because the contractors had not been + paid, reared their four roofless walls on each side. + </p> + <p> + Here and there tall factory chimneys rose up from the barren soil. The + only vegetation on that putrid land, where the spring breezes wafted an + odor of petroleum and slate, blended with another odor that was even less + agreeable. At last, however, they crossed the Seine a second time, and the + bridge was a delight. The river sparkled in the sun, and they had a + feeling of quiet enjoyment, felt refreshed as they drank in the purer air + that was not impregnated by the black smoke of factories nor by the miasma + from the deposits of night soil. A man whom they met told them that the + name of the place was Bezons. Monsieur Dufour pulled up and read the + attractive announcement outside an eating house: Restaurant Poulin, + matelottes and fried fish, private rooms, arbors, and swings. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Madame Dufour, will this suit you? Will you make up your mind + at last?” + </p> + <p> + She read the announcement in her turn and then looked at the house for + some time. + </p> + <p> + It was a white country inn, built by the roadside, and through the open + door she could see the bright zinc of the counter, at which sat two + workmen in their Sunday clothes. At last she made up her mind and said: + </p> + <p> + “Yes, this will do; and, besides, there is a view.” + </p> + <p> + They drove into a large field behind the inn, separated from the river by + the towing path, and dismounted. The husband sprang out first and then + held out his arms for his wife, and as the step was very high Madame + Dufour, in order to reach him, had to show the lower part of her limbs, + whose former slenderness had disappeared in fat, and Monsieur Dufour, who + was already getting excited by the country air, pinched her calf, and + then, taking her in his arms, he set her on the ground, as if she had been + some enormous bundle. She shook the dust out of the silk dress and then + looked round to see in what sort of a place she was. + </p> + <p> + She was a stout woman, of about thirty-six, full-blown, and delightful to + look at. She could hardly breathe, as her corsets were laced too tightly, + and their pressure forced her superabundant bosom up to her double chin. + Next the girl placed her hand on her father's shoulder and jumped down + lightly. The boy with the yellow hair had got down by stepping on the + wheel, and he helped Monsieur Dufour to lift his grandmother out. Then + they unharnessed the horse, which they had tied to a tree, and the + carriage fell back, with both shafts in the air. The men took off their + coats and washed their hands in a pail of water and then went and joined + the ladies, who had already taken possession of the swings. + </p> + <p> + Mademoiselle Dufour was trying to swing herself standing up, but she could + not succeed in getting a start. She was a pretty girl of about eighteen, + one of those women who suddenly excite your desire when you meet them in + the street and who leave you with a vague feeling of uneasiness and of + excited senses. She was tall, had a small waist and large hips, with a + dark skin, very large eyes and very black hair. Her dress clearly marked + the outlines of her firm, full figure, which was accentuated by the motion + of her hips as she tried to swing herself higher. Her arms were stretched + upward to hold the rope, so that her bosom rose at every movement she + made. Her hat, which a gust of wind had blown off, was hanging behind her, + and as the swing gradually rose higher and higher, she showed her delicate + limbs up to the knees each time, and the breeze from her flying skirts, + which was more heady than the fumes of wine, blew into the faces of the + two men, who were looking at her and smiling. + </p> + <p> + Sitting in the other swing, Madame Dufour kept saying in a monotonous + voice: + </p> + <p> + “Cyprian, come and swing me; do come and swing me, Cyprian!” + </p> + <p> + At last he went, and turning up his shirt sleeves, as if undertaking a + hard piece of work, with much difficulty he set his wife in motion. She + clutched the two ropes and held her legs out straight, so as not to touch + the ground. She enjoyed feeling dizzy at the motion of the swing, and her + whole figure shook like a jelly on a dish, but as she went higher and + higher; she became too giddy and was frightened. Each time the swing came + down she uttered a piercing scream, which made all the little urchins in + the neighborhood come round, and down below, beneath the garden hedge, she + vaguely saw a row of mischievous heads making various grimaces as they + laughed. + </p> + <p> + When a servant girl came out they ordered luncheon. + </p> + <p> + “Some fried fish, a rabbit saute, salad and dessert,” Madame + Dufour said, with an important air. + </p> + <p> + “Bring two quarts of beer and a bottle of claret,” her husband + said. + </p> + <p> + “We will have lunch on the grass,” the girl added. + </p> + <p> + The grandmother, who had an affection for cats, had been running after one + that belonged to the house, trying to coax it to come to her for the last + ten minutes. The animal, who was no doubt secretly flattered by her + attentions, kept close to the good woman, but just out of reach of her + hand, and quietly walked round the trees, against which she rubbed + herself, with her tail up, purring with pleasure. + </p> + <p> + “Hello!” suddenly exclaimed the young man with the yellow + hair, who was wandering about. “Here are two swell boats!” + They all went to look at them and saw two beautiful canoes in a wooden + shed; they were as beautifully finished as if they had been ornamental + furniture. They hung side by side, like two tall, slender girls, in their + narrow shining length, and made one wish to float in them on warm summer + mornings and evenings along the flower-covered banks of the river, where + the trees dip their branches into the water, where the rushes are + continually rustling in the breeze and where the swift kingfishers dart + about like flashes of blue lightning. + </p> + <p> + The whole family looked at them with great respect. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, they are indeed swell boats!” Monsieur Dufour repeated + gravely, as he examined them like a connoiseur. He had been in the habit + of rowing in his younger days, he said, and when he had spat in his hands—and + he went through the action of pulling the oars—he did not care a fig + for anybody. He had beaten more than one Englishman formerly at the + Joinville regattas. He grew quite excited at last and offered to make a + bet that in a boat like that he could row six leagues an hour without + exerting himself. + </p> + <p> + “Luncheon is ready,” the waitress said, appearing at the + entrance to the boathouse, and they all hurried off. But two young men had + taken the very seats that Madame Dufour had selected and were eating their + luncheon. No doubt they were the owners of the sculls, for they were in + boating costume. They were stretched out, almost lying on the chairs; they + were sun-browned and their thin cotton jerseys, with short sleeves, showed + their bare arms, which were as strong as a blacksmith's. They were two + strong, athletic fellows, who showed in all their movements that + elasticity and grace of limb which can only be acquired by exercise and + which is so different to the deformity with which monotonous heavy work + stamps the mechanic. + </p> + <p> + They exchanged a rapid smile when they saw the mother and then a glance on + seeing the daughter. + </p> + <p> + “Let us give up our place,” one of them said; “it will + make us acquainted with them.” + </p> + <p> + The other got up immediately, and holding his black and red boating cap in + his hand, he politely offered the ladies the only shady place in the + garden. With many excuses they accepted, and that it might be more rural, + they sat on the grass, without either tables or chairs. + </p> + <p> + The two young men took their plates, knives, forks, etc., to a table a + little way off and began to eat again, and their bare arms, which they + showed continually, rather embarrassed the girl. She even pretended to + turn her head aside and not to see them, while Madame Dufour, who was + rather bolder, tempted by feminine curiosity, looked at them every moment, + and, no doubt, compared them with the secret unsightliness of her husband. + She had squatted herself on ground, with her legs tucked under her, after + the manner of tailors, and she kept moving about restlessly, saying that + ants were crawling about her somewhere. Monsieur Dufour, annoyed at the + presence of the polite strangers, was trying to find a comfortable + position which he did not, however, succeed in doing, and the young man + with the yellow hair was eating as silently as an ogre. + </p> + <p> + “It is lovely weather, monsieur,” the stout lady said to one + of the boating men. She wished to be friendly because they had given up + their place. + </p> + <p> + “It is, indeed, madame,” he replied. “Do you often go + into the country?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, only once or twice a year to get a little fresh air. And you, + monsieur?” + </p> + <p> + “I come and sleep here every night.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that must be very nice!” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly it is, madame.” And he gave them such a practical + account of his daily life that it awakened afresh in the hearts of these + shopkeepers who were deprived of the meadows and who longed for country + walks, to that foolish love of nature which they all feel so strongly the + whole year round behind the counter in their shop. + </p> + <p> + The girl raised her eyes and looked at the oarsman with emotion and + Monsieur Dufour spoke for the first time. + </p> + <p> + “It is indeed a happy life,” he said. And then he added: + “A little more rabbit, my dear?” + </p> + <p> + “No, thank you,” she replied, and turning to the young men + again, and pointing to their arms, asked: “Do you never feel cold + like that?” + </p> + <p> + They both began to laugh, and they astonished the family with an account + of the enormous fatigue they could endure, of their bathing while in a + state of tremendous perspiration, of their rowing in the fog at night; and + they struck their chests violently to show how hollow they sounded. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! You look very strong,” said the husband, who did not talk + any more of the time when he used to beat the English. The girl was + looking at them sideways now, and the young fellow with the yellow hair, + who had swallowed some wine the wrong way, was coughing violently and + bespattering Madame Dufour's cherry-colored silk dress. She got angry and + sent for some water to wash the spots. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile it had grown unbearably hot, the sparkling river looked like a + blaze of fire and the fumes of the wine were getting into their heads. + Monsieur Dufour, who had a violent hiccough, had unbuttoned his waistcoat + and the top button of his trousers, while his wife, who felt choking, was + gradually unfastening her dress. The apprentice was shaking his yellow wig + in a happy frame of mind, and kept helping himself to wine, and the old + grandmother, feeling the effects of the wine, was very stiff and + dignified. As for the girl, one noticed only a peculiar brightness in her + eyes, while the brown cheeks became more rosy. + </p> + <p> + The coffee finished, they suggested singing, and each of them sang or + repeated a couplet, which the others applauded frantically. Then they got + up with some difficulty, and while the two women, who were rather dizzy, + were trying to get a breath of air, the two men, who were altogether + drunk, were attempting gymnastics. Heavy, limp and with scarlet faces they + hung or, awkwardly to the iron rings, without being able to raise + themselves. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile the two boating men had got their boats into the water, and they + came back and politely asked the ladies whether they would like a row. + </p> + <p> + “Would you like one, Monsieur Dufour?” his wife exclaimed. + “Please come!” + </p> + <p> + He merely gave her a drunken nod, without understanding what she said. + Then one of the rowers came up with two fishing rods in his hands, and the + hope of catching a gudgeon, that great vision of the Parisian shopkeeper, + made Dufour's dull eyes gleam, and he politely allowed them to do whatever + they liked, while he sat in the shade under the bridge, with his feet + dangling over the river, by the side of the young man with the yellow + hair, who was sleeping soundly. + </p> + <p> + One of the boating men made a martyr of himself and took the mother. + </p> + <p> + “Let us go to the little wood on the Ile aux Anglais!” he + called out as he rowed off. The other boat went more slowly, for the rower + was looking at his companion so intently that he thought of nothing else, + and his emotion seemed to paralyze his strength, while the girl, who was + sitting in the bow, gave herself up to the enjoyment of being on the + water. She felt a disinclination to think, a lassitude in her limbs and a + total enervation, as if she were intoxicated, and her face was flushed and + her breathing quickened. The effects of the wine, which were increased by + the extreme heat, made all the trees on the bank seem to bow as she + passed. A vague wish for enjoyment and a fermentation of her blood seemed + to pervade her whole body, which was excited by the heat of the day, and + she was also disturbed at this tete-a-tete on the water, in a place which + seemed depopulated by the heat, with this young man who thought her + pretty, whose ardent looks seemed to caress her skin and were as + penetrating and pervading as the sun's rays. + </p> + <p> + Their inability to speak increased their emotion, and they looked about + them. At last, however, he made an effort and asked her name. + </p> + <p> + “Henriette,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “Why, my name is Henri,” he replied. The sound of their voices + had calmed them, and they looked at the banks. The other boat had passed + them and seemed to be waiting for them, and the rower called out: + </p> + <p> + “We will meet you in the wood; we are going as far as Robinson's, + because Madame Dufour is thirsty.” Then he bent over his oars again + and rowed off so quickly that he was soon out of sight. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile a continual roar, which they had heard for some time, came + nearer, and the river itself seemed to shiver, as if the dull noise were + rising from its depths. + </p> + <p> + “What is that noise?” she asked. It was the noise of the weir + which cut the river in two at the island, and he was explaining it to her, + when, above the noise of the waterfall, they heard the song of a bird, + which seemed a long way off. + </p> + <p> + “Listen!” he said; “the nightingales are singing during + the day, so the female birds must be sitting.” + </p> + <p> + A nightingale! She had never heard one before, and the idea of listening + to one roused visions of poetic tenderness in her heart. A nightingale! + That is to say, the invisible witness of her love trysts which Juliet + invoked on her balcony; that celestial music which it attuned to human + kisses, that eternal inspirer of all those languorous romances which open + an ideal sky to all the poor little tender hearts of sensitive girls! + </p> + <p> + She was going to hear a nightingale. + </p> + <p> + “We must not make a noise,” her companion said, “and + then we can go into the wood, and sit down close beside it.” + </p> + <p> + The boat seemed to glide. They saw the trees on the island, the banks of + which were so low that they could look into the depths of the thickets. + They stopped, he made the boat fast, Henriette took hold of Henri's arm, + and they went beneath the trees. + </p> + <p> + “Stoop,” he said, so she stooped down, and they went into an + inextricable thicket of creepers, leaves and reed grass, which formed an + undiscoverable retreat, and which the young man laughingly called “his + private room.” + </p> + <p> + Just above their heads, perched in one of the trees which hid them, the + bird was still singing. He uttered trills and roulades, and then loud, + vibrating notes that filled the air and seemed to lose themselves on the + horizon, across the level country, through that burning silence which + weighed upon the whole landscape. They did not speak for fear of + frightening it away. They were sitting close together, and, slowly, + Henri's arm stole round the girl's waist and squeezed it gently. She took + that daring hand without any anger, and kept removing it whenever he put + it round her; without, however, feeling at all embarrassed by this caress, + just as if it had been something quite natural, which she was resisting + just as naturally. + </p> + <p> + She was listening to the bird in ecstasy. She felt an infinite longing for + happiness, for some sudden demonstration of tenderness, for the revelation + of superhuman poetry, and she felt such a softening at her heart, and + relaxation of her nerves, that she began to cry, without knowing why. The + young man was now straining her close to him, yet she did not remove his + arm; she did not think of it. Suddenly the nightingale stopped, and a + voice called out in the distance: + </p> + <p> + “Henriette!” + </p> + <p> + “Do not reply,” he said in a low voice; “you will drive + the bird away.” + </p> + <p> + But she had no idea of doing so, and they remained in the same position + for some time. Madame Dufour had sat down somewhere or other, for from + time to time they heard the stout lady break out into little bursts of + laughter. + </p> + <p> + The girl was still crying; she was filled with strange sensations. Henri's + head was on her shoulder, and suddenly he kissed her on the lips. She was + surprised and angry, and, to avoid him, she stood up. + </p> + <p> + They were both very pale when they left their grassy retreat. The blue sky + appeared to them clouded and the ardent sun darkened; and they felt the + solitude and the silence. They walked rapidly, side by side, without + speaking or touching each other, for they seemed to have become + irreconcilable enemies, as if disgust and hatred had arisen between them, + and from time to time Henriette called out: “Mamma!” + </p> + <p> + By and by they heard a noise behind a bush, and the stout lady appeared, + looking rather confused, and her companion's face was wrinkled with smiles + which he could not check. + </p> + <p> + Madame Dufour took his arm, and they returned to the boats, and Henri, who + was ahead, walked in silence beside the young girl. At last they got back + to Bezons. Monsieur Dufour, who was now sober, was waiting for them very + impatiently, while the young man with the yellow hair was having a + mouthful of something to eat before leaving the inn. The carriage was + waiting in the yard, and the grandmother, who had already got in, was very + frightened at the thought of being overtaken by night before they reached + Paris, as the outskirts were not safe. + </p> + <p> + They all shook bands, and the Dufour family drove off. + </p> + <p> + “Good-by, until we meet again!” the oarsmen cried, and the + answer they got was a sigh and a tear. + </p> + <p> + Two months later, as Henri was going along the Rue des Martyrs, he saw + Dufour, Ironmonger, over a door, and so he went in, and saw the stout lady + sitting at the counter. They recognized each other immediately, and after + an interchange of polite greetings, he asked after them all. + </p> + <p> + “And how is Mademoiselle Henriette?” he inquired specially. + </p> + <p> + “Very well, thank you; she is married.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” He felt a certain emotion, but said: “Whom did she + marry?” + </p> + <p> + “That young man who accompanied us, you know; he has joined us in + business.” + </p> + <p> + “I remember him perfectly.” + </p> + <p> + He was going out, feeling very unhappy, though scarcely knowing why, when + madame called him back. + </p> + <p> + “And how is your friend?” she asked rather shyly. + </p> + <p> + “He is very well, thank you.” + </p> + <p> + “Please give him our compliments, and beg him to come and call, when + he is in the neighborhood.” + </p> + <p> + She then added: “Tell him it will give me great pleasure.” + </p> + <p> + “I will be sure to do so. Adieu!” + </p> + <p> + “Do not say that; come again very soon.” + </p> + <p> + The next year, one very hot Sunday, all the details of that adventure, + which Henri had never forgotten, suddenly came back to him so clearly that + he returned alone to their room in the wood, and was overwhelmed with + astonishment when he went in. She was sitting on the grass, looking very + sad, while by her side, still in his shirt sleeves, the young man with the + yellow hair was sleeping soundly, like some animal. + </p> + <p> + She grew so pale when she saw Henri that at first he thought she was going + to faint; then, however, they began to talk quite naturally. But when he + told her that he was very fond of that spot, and went there frequently on + Sundays to indulge in memories, she looked into his eyes for a long time. + </p> + <p> + “I too, think of it,” she replied. + </p> + <p> + “Come, my dear,” her husband said, with a yawn. “I think + it is time for us to be going.” + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0185"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + ROSE + </h2> + <p> + The two young women appear to be buried under a blanket of flowers. They + are alone in the immense landau, which is filled with flowers like a giant + basket. On the front seat are two small hampers of white satin filled with + violets, and on the bearskin by which their knees are covered there is a + mass of roses, mimosas, pinks, daisies, tuberoses and orange blossoms, + interwoven with silk ribbons; the two frail bodies seem buried under this + beautiful perfumed bed, which hides everything but the shoulders and arms + and a little of the dainty waists. + </p> + <p> + The coachman's whip is wound with a garland of anemones, the horses' + traces are dotted with carnations, the spokes of the wheels are clothed in + mignonette, and where the lanterns ought to be are two enormous round + bouquets which look as though they were the eyes of this strange, rolling, + flower-bedecked creature. + </p> + <p> + The landau drives rapidly along the road, through the Rue d'Antibes, + preceded, followed, accompanied, by a crowd of other carriages covered + with flowers, full of women almost hidden by a sea of violets. It is the + flower carnival at Cannes. + </p> + <p> + The carriage reaches the Boulevard de la Fonciere, where the battle is + waged. All along the immense avenue a double row of flower-bedecked + vehicles are going and coming like an endless ribbon. Flowers are thrown + from one to the other. They pass through the air like balls, striking + fresh faces, bouncing and falling into the dust, where an army of + youngsters pick them up. + </p> + <p> + A thick crowd is standing on the sidewalks looking on and held in check by + the mounted police, who pass brutally along pushing back the curious + pedestrians as though to prevent the common people from mingling with the + rich. + </p> + <p> + In the carriages, people call to each other, recognize each other and + bombard each other with roses. A chariot full of pretty women, dressed in + red, like devils, attracts the eyes of all. A gentleman, who looks like + the portraits of Henry IV., is throwing an immense bouquet which is held + back by an elastic. Fearing the shock, the women hide their eyes and the + men lower their heads, but the graceful, rapid and obedient missile + describes a curve and returns to its master, who immediately throws it at + some new face. + </p> + <p> + The two young women begin to throw their stock of flowers by handfuls, and + receive a perfect hail of bouquets; then, after an hour of warfare, a + little tired, they tell the coachman to drive along the road which follows + the seashore. + </p> + <p> + The sun disappears behind Esterel, outlining the dark, rugged mountain + against the sunset sky. The clear blue sea, as calm as a mill-pond, + stretches out as far as the horizon, where it blends with the sky; and the + fleet, anchored in the middle of the bay, looks like a herd of enormous + beasts, motionless on the water, apocalyptic animals, armored and + hump-backed, their frail masts looking like feathers, and with eyes which + light up when evening approaches. + </p> + <p> + The two young women, leaning back under the heavy robes, look out lazily + over the blue expanse of water. At last one of them says: + </p> + <p> + “How delightful the evenings are! How good everything seems! Don't + you think so, Margot?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it is good. But there is always something lacking.” + </p> + <p> + “What is lacking? I feel perfectly happy. I don't need anything + else.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, you do. You are not thinking of it. No matter how contented we + may be, physically, we always long for something more—for the heart.” + </p> + <p> + The other asked with a smile: + </p> + <p> + “A little love?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + They stopped talking, their eyes fastened on the distant horizon, then the + one called Marguerite murmured: “Life without that seems to me + unbearable. I need to be loved, if only by a dog. But we are all alike, no + matter what you may say, Simone.” + </p> + <p> + “Not at all, my dear. I had rather not be loved at all than to be + loved by the first comer. Do you think, for instance, that it would be + pleasant to be loved by—by—” + </p> + <p> + She was thinking by whom she might possibly be loved, glancing across the + wide landscape. Her eyes, after traveling around the horizon, fell on the + two bright buttons which were shining on the back of the coachman's + livery, and she continued, laughing: “by my coachman?” + </p> + <p> + Madame Margot barely smiled, and said in a low tone of voice: + </p> + <p> + “I assure you that it is very amusing to be loved by a servant. It + has happened to me two or three times. They roll their eyes in such a + funny manner—it's enough to make you die laughing! Naturally, the + more in love they are, the more severe one must be with them, and then, + some day, for some reason, you dismiss them, because, if anyone should + notice it, you would appear so ridiculous.” + </p> + <p> + Madame Simone was listening, staring straight ahead of her, then she + remarked: + </p> + <p> + “No, I'm afraid that my footman's heart would not satisfy me. Tell + me how you noticed that they loved you.” + </p> + <p> + “I noticed it the same way that I do with other men—when they + get stupid.” + </p> + <p> + “The others don't seem stupid to me, when they love me.” + </p> + <p> + “They are idiots, my dear, unable to talk, to answer, to understand + anything.” + </p> + <p> + “But how did you feel when you were loved by a servant? Were you—moved—flattered?” + </p> + <p> + “Moved? no, flattered—yes a little. One is always flattered to + be loved by a man, no matter who he may be.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Margot!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, indeed, my dear! For instance, I will tell you of a peculiar + incident which happened to me. You will see how curious and complex our + emotions are, in such cases. + </p> + <p> + “About four years ago I happened to be without a maid. I had tried + five or six, one right after the other, and I was about ready to give up + in despair, when I saw an advertisement in a newspaper of a young girl + knowing how to cook, embroider, dress hair, who was looking for a position + and who could furnish the best of references. Besides all these + accomplishments, she could speak English. + </p> + <p> + “I wrote to the given address, and the next day the person in + question presented herself. She was tall, slender, pale, shy-looking. She + had beautiful black eyes and a charming complexion; she pleased me + immediately. I asked for her certificates; she gave me one in English, for + she came, as she said, from Lady Rymwell's, where she had been for ten + years. + </p> + <p> + “The certificate showed that the young girl had left of her own free + will, in order to return to France, and the only thing which they had had + to find fault in her during her long period of service was a little French + coquettishness. + </p> + <p> + “This prudish English phrase even made me smile, and I immediately + engaged this maid. + </p> + <p> + “She came to me the same day. Her name was Rose. + </p> + <p> + “At the end of a month I would have been helpless without her. She + was a treasure, a pearl, a phenomenon. + </p> + <p> + “She could dress my hair with infinite taste; she could trim a hat + better than most milliners, and she could even make my dresses. + </p> + <p> + “I was astonished at her accomplishments. I had never before been + waited on in such a manner. + </p> + <p> + “She dressed me rapidly and with a surprisingly light touch. I never + felt her fingers on my skin, and nothing is so disagreeable to me as + contact with a servant's hand. I soon became excessively lazy; it was so + pleasant to be dressed from head to foot, and from lingerie to gloves, by + this tall, timid girl, always blushing a little, and never saying a word. + After my bath she would rub and massage me while I dozed a little on my + couch; I almost considered her more of a friend than a servant. + </p> + <p> + “One morning the janitor asked, mysteriously, to speak to me. I was + surprised, and told him to come in. He was a good, faithful man, an old + soldier, one of my husband's former orderlies. + </p> + <p> + “He seemed to be embarrassed by what he had to say to me. At last he + managed to mumble: + </p> + <p> + “'Madame, the superintendent of police is downstairs.' + </p> + <p> + “I asked quickly: + </p> + <p> + “'What does he wish?' + </p> + <p> + “'He wishes to search the house.' + </p> + <p> + “Of course the police are useful, but I hate them. I do not think + that it is a noble profession. I answered, angered and hurt: + </p> + <p> + “'Why this search? For what reason? He shall not come in.' + </p> + <p> + “The janitor continued: + </p> + <p> + “'He says that there is a criminal hidden in the house.' + </p> + <p> + “This time I was frightened and I told him to bring the inspector to + me, so that I might get some explanation. He was a man with good manners + and decorated with the Legion of Honor. He begged my pardon for disturbing + me, and then informed me that I had, among my domestics, a convict. + </p> + <p> + “I was shocked; and I answered that I could guarantee every servant + in the house, and I began to enumerate them. + </p> + <p> + “'The janitor, Pierre Courtin, an old soldier.' + </p> + <p> + “'It's not he.' + </p> + <p> + “'A stable-boy, son of farmers whom I know, and a groom whom you + have just seen.' + </p> + <p> + “'It's not he.' + </p> + <p> + “'Then, monsieur, you see that you must be mistaken.' + </p> + <p> + “'Excuse me, madame, but I am positive that I am not making a + mistake. + </p> + <p> + “As the conviction of a notable criminal is at stake, would you be + so kind as to send for all your servants?” + </p> + <p> + “At first I refused, but I finally gave in, and sent downstairs for + everybody, men and women. + </p> + <p> + “The inspector glanced at them and then declared: + </p> + <p> + “'This isn't all.' + </p> + <p> + “'Excuse me, monsieur, there is no one left but my maid, a young + girl whom you could not possibly mistake for a convict.' + </p> + <p> + “He asked: + </p> + <p> + “'May I also see her?' + </p> + <p> + “'Certainly.' + </p> + <p> + “I rang for Rose, who immediately appeared. She had hardly entered + the room, when the inspector made a motion, and two men whom I had not + seen, hidden behind the door, sprang forward, seized her and tied her + hands behind her back. + </p> + <p> + “I cried out in anger and tried to rush forward to defend her. The + inspector stopped me: + </p> + <p> + “'This girl, madame, is a man whose name is Jean Nicolas Lecapet, + condemned to death in 1879 for assaulting a woman and injuring her so that + death resulted. His sentence was commuted to imprisonment for life. He + escaped four months ago. We have been looking for him ever since.' + </p> + <p> + “I was terrified, bewildered. I did not believe him. The + commissioner continued, laughing: + </p> + <p> + “'I can prove it to you. His right arm is tattooed.' + </p> + <p> + “'The sleeve was rolled up. It was true. The inspector added, with + bad taste: + </p> + <p> + “'You can trust us for the other proofs.' + </p> + <p> + “And they led my maid away! + </p> + <p> + “Well, would you believe me, the thing that moved me most was not + anger at having thus been played upon, deceived and made ridiculous, it + was not the shame of having thus been dressed and undressed, handled and + touched by this man—but a deep humiliation—a woman's + humiliation. Do you understand?” + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid I don't.” + </p> + <p> + “Just think—this man had been condemned for—for + assaulting a woman. Well! I thought of the one whom he had assaulted—and—and + I felt humiliated—There! Do you understand now?” + </p> + <p> + Madame Margot did not answer. She was looking straight ahead, her eyes + fastened on the two shining buttons of the livery, with that sphinx-like + smile which women sometimes have. + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0186"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + ROSALIE PRUDENT + </h2> + <p> + There was a real mystery in this affair which neither the jury, nor the + president, nor the public prosecutor himself could understand. + </p> + <p> + The girl Prudent (Rosalie), servant at the Varambots', of Nantes, having + become enceinte without the knowledge of her masters, had, during the + night, killed and buried her child in the garden. + </p> + <p> + It was the usual story of the infanticides committed by servant girls. But + there was one inexplicable circumstance about this one. When the police + searched the girl Prudent's room they discovered a complete infant's + outfit, made by Rosalie herself, who had spent her nights for the last + three months in cutting and sewing it. The grocer from whom she had bought + her candles, out of her own wages, for this long piece of work had come to + testify. It came out, moreover, that the sage-femme of the district, + informed by Rosalie of her condition, had given her all necessary + instructions and counsel in case the event should happen at a time when it + might not be possible to get help. She had also procured a place at Poissy + for the girl Prudent, who foresaw that her present employers would + discharge her, for the Varambot couple did not trifle with morality. + </p> + <p> + There were present at the trial both the man and the woman, a middle-class + pair from the provinces, living on their income. They were so exasperated + against this girl, who had sullied their house, that they would have liked + to see her guillotined on the spot without a trial. The spiteful + depositions they made against her became accusations in their mouths. + </p> + <p> + The defendant, a large, handsome girl of Lower Normandy, well educated for + her station in life, wept continuously and would not answer to anything. + </p> + <p> + The court and the spectators were forced to the opinion that she had + committed this barbarous act in a moment of despair and madness, since + there was every indication that she had expected to keep and bring up her + child. + </p> + <p> + The president tried for the last time to make her speak, to get some + confession, and, having urged her with much gentleness, he finally made + her understand that all these men gathered here to pass judgment upon her + were not anxious for her death and might even have pity on her. + </p> + <p> + Then she made up her mind to speak. + </p> + <p> + “Come, now, tell us, first, who is the father of this child?” + he asked. + </p> + <p> + Until then she had obstinately refused to give his name. + </p> + <p> + But she replied suddenly, looking at her masters who had so cruelly + calumniated her: + </p> + <p> + “It is Monsieur Joseph, Monsieur Varambot's nephew.” + </p> + <p> + The couple started in their seats and cried with one voice—“That's + not true! She lies! This is infamous!” + </p> + <p> + The president had them silenced and continued, “Go on, please, and + tell us how it all happened.” + </p> + <p> + Then she suddenly began to talk freely, relieving her pent-up heart, that + poor, solitary, crushed heart—laying bare her sorrow, her whole + sorrow, before those severe men whom she had until now taken for enemies + and inflexible judges. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it was Monsieur Joseph Varambot, when he came on leave last + year.” + </p> + <p> + “What does Mr. Joseph Varambot do?” + </p> + <p> + “He is a non-commissioned officer in the artillery, monsieur. Well, + he stayed two months at the house, two months of the summer. I thought + nothing about it when he began to look at me, and then flatter me, and + make love to me all day long. And I let myself be taken in, monsieur. He + kept saying to me that I was a handsome girl, that I was good company, + that I just suited him—and I, I liked him well enough. What could I + do? One listens to these things when one is alone—all alone—as + I was. I am alone in the world, monsieur. I have no one to talk to—no + one to tell my troubles to. I have no father, no mother, no brother, no + sister, nobody. And when he began to talk to me it was as if I had a + brother who had come back. And then he asked me to go with him to the + river one evening, so that we might talk without disturbing any one. I + went—I don't know—I don't know how it happened. He had his arm + around me. Really I didn't want to—no—no—I could not—I + felt like crying, the air was so soft —the moon was shining. No, I + swear to you—I could not—he did what he wanted. That went on + three weeks, as long as he stayed. I could have followed him to the ends + of the world. He went away. I did not know that I was enceinte. I did not + know it until the month after—” + </p> + <p> + She began to cry so bitterly that they had to give her time to collect + herself. + </p> + <p> + Then the president resumed with the tone of a priest at the confessional: + “Come, now, go on.” + </p> + <p> + She began to talk again: “When I realized my condition I went to see + Madame Boudin, who is there to tell you, and I asked her how it would be, + in case it should come if she were not there. Then I made the outfit, + sewing night after night, every evening until one o'clock in the morning; + and then I looked for another place, for I knew very well that I should be + sent away, but I wanted to stay in the house until the very last, so as to + save my pennies, for I have not got very much and I should need my money + for the little one.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you did not intend to kill him?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, certainly not, monsieur!” + </p> + <p> + “Why did you kill him, then?” + </p> + <p> + “It happened this way. It came sooner than I expected. It came upon + me in the kitchen, while I was doing the dishes. Monsieur and Madame + Varambot were already asleep, so I went up, not without difficulty, + dragging myself up by the banister, and I lay down on the bare floor. It + lasted perhaps one hour, or two, or three; I don't know, I had such pain; + and then I pushed him out with all my strength. I felt that he came out + and I picked him up. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! but I was glad, I assure you! I did all that Madame Boudin told + me to do. And then I laid him on my bed. And then such a pain griped me + again that I thought I should die. If you knew what it meant, you there, + you would not do so much of this. I fell on my knees, and then toppled + over backward on the floor; and it griped me again, perhaps one hour, + perhaps two. I lay there all alone—and then another one comes—another + little one—two, yes, two, like this. I took him up as I did the + first one, and then I put him on the bed, the two side by side. Is it + possible, tell me, two children, and I who get only twenty francs a month? + Say, is it possible? One, yes, that can be managed by going without + things, but not two. That turned my head. What do I know about it? Had I + any choice, tell me? + </p> + <p> + “What could I do? I felt as if my last hour had come. I put the + pillow over them, without knowing why. I could not keep them both; and + then I threw myself down, and I lay there, rolling over and over and + crying until I saw the daylight come into the window. Both of them were + quite dead under the pillow. Then I took them under my arms and went down + the stairs out in the vegetable garden. I took the gardener's spade and I + buried them under the earth, digging as deep a hole as I could, one here + and the other one there, not together, so that they might not talk of + their mother if these little dead bodies can talk. What do I know about + it? + </p> + <p> + “And then, back in my bed, I felt so sick that I could not get up. + They sent for the doctor and he understood it all. I'm telling you the + truth, Your Honor. Do what you like with me; I'm ready.” + </p> + <p> + Half of the jury were blowing their noses violently to keep from crying. + The women in the courtroom were sobbing. + </p> + <p> + The president asked her: + </p> + <p> + “Where did you bury the other one?” + </p> + <p> + “The one that you have?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “Why, this one—this one was in the artichokes.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, then the other one is among the strawberries, by the well.” + </p> + <p> + And she began to sob so piteously that no one could hear her unmoved. + </p> + <p> + The girl Rosalie Prudent was acquitted. + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0187"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + REGRET + </h2> + <p> + Monsieur Saval, who was called in Mantes “Father Saval,” had + just risen from bed. He was weeping. It was a dull autumn day; the leaves + were falling. They fell slowly in the rain, like a heavier and slower + rain. M. Saval was not in good spirits. He walked from the fireplace to + the window, and from the window to the fireplace. Life has its sombre + days. It would no longer have any but sombre days for him, for he had + reached the age of sixty-two. He is alone, an old bachelor, with nobody + about him. How sad it is to die alone, all alone, without any one who is + devoted to you! + </p> + <p> + He pondered over his life, so barren, so empty. He recalled former days, + the days of his childhood, the home, the house of his parents; his college + days, his follies; the time he studied law in Paris, his father's illness, + his death. He then returned to live with his mother. They lived together + very quietly, and desired nothing more. At last the mother died. How sad + life is! He lived alone since then, and now, in his turn, he, too, will + soon be dead. He will disappear, and that will be the end. There will be + no more of Paul Saval upon the earth. What a frightful thing! Other people + will love, will laugh. Yes, people will go on amusing themselves, and he + will no longer exist! Is it not strange that people can laugh, amuse + themselves, be joyful under that eternal certainty of death? If this death + were only probable, one could then have hope; but no, it is inevitable, as + inevitable as that night follows the day. + </p> + <p> + If, however, his life had been full! If he had done something; if he had + had adventures, great pleasures, success, satisfaction of some kind or + another. But no, nothing. He had done nothing, nothing but rise from bed, + eat, at the same hours, and go to bed again. And he had gone on like that + to the age of sixty-two years. He had not even taken unto himself a wife, + as other men do. Why? Yes, why was it that he had not married? He might + have done so, for he possessed considerable means. Had he lacked an + opportunity? Perhaps! But one can create opportunities. He was + indifferent; that was all. Indifference had been his greatest drawback, + his defect, his vice. How many men wreck their lives through indifference! + It is so difficult for some natures to get out of bed, to move about, to + take long walks, to speak, to study any question. + </p> + <p> + He had not even been loved. No woman had reposed on his bosom, in a + complete abandon of love. He knew nothing of the delicious anguish of + expectation, the divine vibration of a hand in yours, of the ecstasy of + triumphant passion. + </p> + <p> + What superhuman happiness must overflow your heart, when lips encounter + lips for the first time, when the grasp of four arms makes one being of + you, a being unutterably happy, two beings infatuated with one another. + </p> + <p> + M. Saval was sitting before the fire, his feet on the fender, in his + dressing gown. Assuredly his life had been spoiled, completely spoiled. He + had, however, loved. He had loved secretly, sadly, and indifferently, in a + manner characteristic of him in everything. Yes, he had loved his old + friend, Madame Sandres, the wife of his old companion, Sandres. Ah! if he + had known her as a young girl! But he had met her too late; she was + already married. Unquestionably, he would have asked her hand! How he had + loved her, nevertheless, without respite, since the first day he set eyes + on her! + </p> + <p> + He recalled his emotion every time he saw her, his grief on leaving her, + the many nights that he could not sleep, because he was thinking of her. + </p> + <p> + On rising in the morning he was somewhat more rational than on the + previous evening. + </p> + <p> + Why? + </p> + <p> + How pretty she was formerly, so dainty, with fair curly hair, and always + laughing. Sandres was not the man she should have chosen. She was now + fifty-two years of age. She seemed happy. Ah! if she had only loved him in + days gone by; yes, if she had only loved him! And why should she not have + loved him, he, Saval, seeing that he loved her so much, yes, she, Madame + Sandres! + </p> + <p> + If only she could have guessed. Had she not guessed anything, seen + anything, comprehended anything? What would she have thought? If he had + spoken, what would she have answered? + </p> + <p> + And Saval asked himself a thousand other things. He reviewed his whole + life, seeking to recall a multitude of details. + </p> + <p> + He recalled all the long evenings spent at the house of Sandres, when the + latter's wife was young, and so charming. + </p> + <p> + He recalled many things that she had said to him, the intonations of her + voice, the little significant smiles that meant so much. + </p> + <p> + He recalled their walks, the three of them together, along the banks of + the Seine, their luncheon on the grass on Sundays, for Sandres was + employed at the sub-prefecture. And all at once the distinct recollection + came to him of an afternoon spent with her in a little wood on the banks + of the river. + </p> + <p> + They had set out in the morning, carrying their provisions in baskets. It + was a bright spring morning, one of those days which intoxicate one. + Everything smells fresh, everything seems happy. The voices of the birds + sound more joyous, and they fly more swiftly. They had luncheon on the + grass, under the willow trees, quite close to the water, which glittered + in the sun's rays. The air was balmy, charged with the odors of fresh + vegetation; they drank it in with delight. How pleasant everything was on + that day! + </p> + <p> + After lunch, Sandres went to sleep on the broad of his back. “The + best nap he had in his life,” said he, when he woke up. + </p> + <p> + Madame Sandres had taken the arm of Saval, and they started to walk along + the river bank. + </p> + <p> + She leaned tenderly on his arm. She laughed and said to him: “I am + intoxicated, my friend, I am quite intoxicated.” He looked at her, + his heart going pit-a-pat. He felt himself grow pale, fearful that he + might have looked too boldly at her, and that the trembling of his hand + had revealed his passion. + </p> + <p> + She had made a wreath of wild flowers and water-lilies, and she asked him: + “Do I look pretty like that?” + </p> + <p> + As he did not answer—for he could find nothing to say, he would have + liked to go down on his knees—she burst out laughing, a sort of + annoyed, displeased laugh, as she said: “Great goose, what ails you? + You might at least say something.” + </p> + <p> + He felt like crying, but could not even yet find a word to say. + </p> + <p> + All these things came back to him now, as vividly as on the day when they + took place. Why had she said this to him, “Great goose, what ails + you? You might at least say something!” + </p> + <p> + And he recalled how tenderly she had leaned on his arm. And in passing + under a shady tree he had felt her ear brushing his cheek, and he had + moved his head abruptly, lest she should suppose he was too familiar. + </p> + <p> + When he had said to her: “Is it not time to return?” she + darted a singular look at him. “Certainly,” she said, “certainly,” + regarding him at the same time in a curious manner. He had not thought of + it at the time, but now the whole thing appeared to him quite plain. + </p> + <p> + “Just as you like, my friend. If you are tired let us go back.” + </p> + <p> + And he had answered: “I am not fatigued; but Sandres may be awake + now.” + </p> + <p> + And she had said: “If you are afraid of my husband's being awake, + that is another thing. Let us return.” + </p> + <p> + On their way back she remained silent, and leaned no longer on his arm. + Why? + </p> + <p> + At that time it had never occurred to him, to ask himself “why.” + Now he seemed to apprehend something that he had not then understood. + </p> + <p> + Could it? + </p> + <p> + M. Saval felt himself blush, and he got up at a bound, as if he were + thirty years younger and had heard Madame Sandres say, “I love you.” + </p> + <p> + Was it possible? That idea which had just entered his mind tortured him. + Was it possible that he had not seen, had not guessed? + </p> + <p> + Oh! if that were true, if he had let this opportunity of happiness pass + without taking advantage of it! + </p> + <p> + He said to himself: “I must know. I cannot remain in this state of + doubt. I must know!” He thought: “I am sixty-two years of age, + she is fifty-eight; I may ask her that now without giving offense.” + </p> + <p> + He started out. + </p> + <p> + The Sandres' house was situated on the other side of the street, almost + directly opposite his own. He went across and knocked at the door, and a + little servant opened it. + </p> + <p> + “You here at this hour, Saval! Has some accident happened to you?” + </p> + <p> + “No, my girl,” he replied; “but go and tell your + mistress that I want to speak to her at once.” + </p> + <p> + “The fact is madame is preserving pears for the winter, and she is + in the preserving room. She is not dressed, you understand.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but go and tell her that I wish to see her on a very important + matter.” + </p> + <p> + The little servant went away, and Saval began to walk, with long, nervous + strides, up and down the drawing-room. He did not feel in the least + embarrassed, however. Oh! he was merely going to ask her something, as he + would have asked her about some cooking recipe. He was sixty-two years of + age! + </p> + <p> + The door opened and madame appeared. She was now a large woman, fat and + round, with full cheeks and a sonorous laugh. She walked with her arms + away from her sides and her sleeves tucked up, her bare arms all covered + with fruit juice. She asked anxiously: + </p> + <p> + “What is the matter with you, my friend? You are not ill, are you?” + </p> + <p> + “No, my dear friend; but I wish to ask you one thing, which to me is + of the first importance, something which is torturing my heart, and I want + you to promise that you will answer me frankly.” + </p> + <p> + She laughed, “I am always frank. Say on.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then. I have loved you from the first day I ever saw you. Can + you have any doubt of this?” + </p> + <p> + She responded, laughing, with something of her former tone of voice. + </p> + <p> + “Great goose! what ails you? I knew it from the very first day!” + </p> + <p> + Saval began to tremble. He stammered out: “You knew it? Then . . .” + </p> + <p> + He stopped. + </p> + <p> + She asked: + </p> + <p> + “Then?” + </p> + <p> + He answered: + </p> + <p> + “Then—what did you think? What—what—what would you + have answered?” + </p> + <p> + She broke into a peal of laughter. Some of the juice ran off the tips of + her fingers on to the carpet. + </p> + <p> + “What?” + </p> + <p> + “I? Why, you did not ask me anything. It was not for me to declare + myself!” + </p> + <p> + He then advanced a step toward her. + </p> + <p> + “Tell me—tell me . . . . You remember the day when Sandres + went to sleep on the grass after lunch . . . when we had walked together + as far as the bend of the river, below . . .” + </p> + <p> + He waited, expectantly. She had ceased to laugh, and looked at him, + straight in the eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, certainly, I remember it.” + </p> + <p> + He answered, trembling all over: + </p> + <p> + “Well—that day—if I had been—if I had been—venturesome—what + would you have done?” + </p> + <p> + She began to laugh as only a happy woman can laugh, who has nothing to + regret, and responded frankly, in a clear voice tinged with irony: + </p> + <p> + “I would have yielded, my friend.” + </p> + <p> + She then turned on her heels and went back to her jam-making. + </p> + <p> + Saval rushed into the street, cast down, as though he had met with some + disaster. He walked with giant strides through the rain, straight on, + until he reached the river bank, without thinking where he was going. He + then turned to the right and followed the river. He walked a long time, as + if urged on by some instinct. His clothes were running with water, his hat + was out of shape, as soft as a rag, and dripping like a roof. He walked + on, straight in front of him. At last, he came to the place where they had + lunched on that day so long ago, the recollection of which tortured his + heart. He sat down under the leafless trees, and wept. + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0188"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + A SISTER'S CONFESSION + </h2> + <p> + Marguerite de Therelles was dying. Although she was only fifty-six years + old she looked at least seventy-five. She gasped for breath, her face + whiter than the sheets, and had spasms of violent shivering, with her face + convulsed and her eyes haggard as though she saw a frightful vision. + </p> + <p> + Her elder sister, Suzanne, six years older than herself, was sobbing on + her knees beside the bed. A small table close to the dying woman's couch + bore, on a white cloth, two lighted candles, for the priest was expected + at any moment to administer extreme unction and the last communion. + </p> + <p> + The apartment wore that melancholy aspect common to death chambers; a look + of despairing farewell. Medicine bottles littered the furniture; linen lay + in the corners into which it had been kicked or swept. The very chairs + looked, in their disarray, as if they were terrified and had run in all + directions. Death—terrible Death—was in the room, hidden, + awaiting his prey. + </p> + <p> + This history of the two sisters was an affecting one. It was spoken of far + and wide; it had drawn tears from many eyes. + </p> + <p> + Suzanne, the elder, had once been passionately loved by a young man, whose + affection she returned. They were engaged to be married, and the wedding + day was at hand, when Henry de Sampierre suddenly died. + </p> + <p> + The young girl's despair was terrible, and she took an oath never to + marry. She faithfully kept her vow and adopted widow's weeds for the + remainder of her life. + </p> + <p> + But one morning her sister, her little sister Marguerite, then only twelve + years old, threw herself into Suzanne's arms, sobbing: “Sister, I + don't want you to be unhappy. I don't want you to mourn all your life. + I'll never leave you—never, never, never! I shall never marry, + either. I'll stay with you always—always!” + </p> + <p> + Suzanne kissed her, touched by the child's devotion, though not putting + any faith in her promise. + </p> + <p> + But the little one kept her word, and, despite her parents' remonstrances, + despite her elder sister's prayers, never married. She was remarkably + pretty and refused many offers. She never left her sister. + </p> + <p> + They spent their whole life together, without a single day's separation. + They went everywhere together and were inseparable. But Marguerite was + pensive, melancholy, sadder than her sister, as if her sublime sacrifice + had undermined her spirits. She grew older more quickly; her hair was + white at thirty; and she was often ill, apparently stricken with some + unknown, wasting malady. + </p> + <p> + And now she would be the first to die. + </p> + <p> + She had not spoken for twenty-four hours, except to whisper at daybreak: + </p> + <p> + “Send at once for the priest.” + </p> + <p> + And she had since remained lying on her back, convulsed with agony, her + lips moving as if unable to utter the dreadful words that rose in her + heart, her face expressive of a terror distressing to witness. + </p> + <p> + Suzanne, distracted with grief, her brow pressed against the bed, wept + bitterly, repeating over and over again the words: + </p> + <p> + “Margot, my poor Margot, my little one!” + </p> + <p> + She had always called her “my little one,” while Marguerite's + name for the elder was invariably “sister.” + </p> + <p> + A footstep sounded on the stairs. The door opened. An acolyte appeared, + followed by the aged priest in his surplice. As soon as she saw him the + dying woman sat up suddenly in bed, opened her lips, stammered a few words + and began to scratch the bed-clothes, as if she would have made hole in + them. + </p> + <p> + Father Simon approached, took her hand, kissed her on the forehead and + said in a gentle voice: + </p> + <p> + “May God pardon your sins, my daughter. Be of good courage. Now is + the moment to confess them—speak!” + </p> + <p> + Then Marguerite, shuddering from head to foot, so that the very bed shook + with her nervous movements, gasped: + </p> + <p> + “Sit down, sister, and listen.” + </p> + <p> + The priest stooped toward the prostrate Suzanne, raised her to her feet, + placed her in a chair, and, taking a hand of each of the sisters, + pronounced: + </p> + <p> + “Lord God! Send them strength! Shed Thy mercy upon them.” + </p> + <p> + And Marguerite began to speak. The words issued from her lips one by one—hoarse, + jerky, tremulous. + </p> + <p> + “Pardon, pardon, sister! pardon me! Oh, if only you knew how I have + dreaded this moment all my life!” + </p> + <p> + Suzanne faltered through her tears: + </p> + <p> + “But what have I to pardon, little one? You have given me + everything, sacrificed all to me. You are an angel.” + </p> + <p> + But Marguerite interrupted her: + </p> + <p> + “Be silent, be silent! Let me speak! Don't stop me! It is terrible. + Let me tell all, to the very end, without interruption. Listen. You + remember—you remember—Henry—” + </p> + <p> + Suzanne trembled and looked at her sister. The younger one went on: + </p> + <p> + “In order to understand you must hear everything. I was twelve years + old—only twelve—you remember, don't you? And I was spoilt; I + did just as I pleased. You remember how everybody spoilt me? Listen. The + first time he came he had on his riding boots; he dismounted, saying that + he had a message for father. You remember, don't you? Don't speak. Listen. + When I saw him I was struck with admiration. I thought him so handsome, + and I stayed in a corner of the drawing-room all the time he was talking. + Children are strange—and terrible. Yes, indeed, I dreamt of him. + </p> + <p> + “He came again—many times. I looked at him with all my eyes, + all my heart. I was large for my age and much more precocious than—any + one suspected. He came often. I thought only of him. I often whispered to + myself: + </p> + <p> + “'Henry-Henry de Sampierre!' + </p> + <p> + “Then I was told that he was going to marry you. That was a blow! + Oh, sister, a terrible blow—terrible! I wept all through three + sleepless nights. + </p> + <p> + “He came every afternoon after lunch. You remember, don't you? Don't + answer. Listen. You used to make cakes that he was very fond of—with + flour, butter and milk. Oh, I know how to make them. I could make them + still, if necessary. He would swallow them at one mouthful and wash them + down with a glass of wine, saying: 'Delicious!' Do you remember the way he + said it? + </p> + <p> + “I was jealous—jealous! Your wedding day was drawing near. It + was only a fortnight distant. I was distracted. I said to myself: 'He + shall not marry Suzanne—no, he shall not! He shall marry me when I + am old enough! I shall never love any one half so much.' But one evening, + ten days before the wedding, you went for a stroll with him in the + moonlight before the house—and yonder—under the pine tree, the + big pine tree—he kissed you—kissed you—and held you in + his arms so long—so long! You remember, don't you? It was probably + the first time. You were so pale when you came back to the drawing-room! + </p> + <p> + “I saw you. I was there in the shrubbery. I was mad with rage! I + would have killed you both if I could! + </p> + <p> + “I said to myself: 'He shall never marry Suzanne—never! He + shall marry no one! I could not bear it.' And all at once I began to hate + him intensely. + </p> + <p> + “Then do you know what I did? Listen. I had seen the gardener + prepare pellets for killing stray dogs. He would crush a bottle into small + pieces with a stone and put the ground glass into a ball of meat. + </p> + <p> + “I stole a small medicine bottle from mother's room. I ground it + fine with a hammer and hid the glass in my pocket. It was a glistening + powder. The next day, when you had made your little cakes; I opened them + with a knife and inserted the glass. He ate three. I ate one myself. I + threw the six others into the pond. The two swans died three days later. + You remember? Oh, don't speak! Listen, listen. I, I alone did not die. But + I have always been ill. Listen—he died—you know—listen—that + was not the worst. It was afterward, later—always—the most + terrible—listen. + </p> + <p> + “My life, all my life—such torture! I said to myself: 'I will + never leave my sister. And on my deathbed I will tell her all.' And now I + have told. And I have always thought of this moment—the moment when + all would be told. Now it has come. It is terrible—oh!—sister— + </p> + <p> + “I have always thought, morning and evening, day and night: 'I shall + have to tell her some day!' I waited. The horror of it! It is done. Say + nothing. Now I am afraid—I am afraid! Oh! Supposing I should see him + again, by and by, when I am dead! See him again! Only to think of it! I + dare not—yet I must. I am going to die. I want you to forgive me. I + insist on it. I cannot meet him without your forgiveness. Oh, tell her to + forgive me, Father! Tell her. I implore you! I cannot die without it.” + </p> + <p> + She was silent and lay back, gasping for breath, still plucking at the + sheets with her fingers. + </p> + <p> + Suzanne had hidden her face in her hands and did not move. She was + thinking of him whom she had loved so long. What a life of happiness they + might have had together! She saw him again in the dim and distant + past-that past forever lost. Beloved dead! how the thought of them rends + the heart! Oh! that kiss, his only kiss! She had retained the memory of it + in her soul. And, after that, nothing, nothing more throughout her whole + existence! + </p> + <p> + The priest rose suddenly and in a firm, compelling voice said: + </p> + <p> + “Mademoiselle Suzanne, your sister is dying!” + </p> + <p> + Then Suzanne, raising her tear-stained face, put her arms round her + sister, and kissing her fervently, exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “I forgive you, I forgive you, little one!” + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0189"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + COCO + </h2> + <p> + Throughout the whole countryside the Lucas farn, was known as “the + Manor.” No one knew why. The peasants doubtless attached to this + word, “Manor,” a meaning of wealth and of splendor, for this + farm was undoubtedly the largest, richest and the best managed in the + whole neighborhood. + </p> + <p> + The immense court, surrounded by five rows of magnificent trees, which + sheltered the delicate apple trees from the harsh wind of the plain, + inclosed in its confines long brick buildings used for storing fodder and + grain, beautiful stables built of hard stone and made to accommodate + thirty horses, and a red brick residence which looked like a little + chateau. + </p> + <p> + Thanks for the good care taken, the manure heaps were as little offensive + as such things can be; the watch-dogs lived in kennels, and countless + poultry paraded through the tall grass. + </p> + <p> + Every day, at noon, fifteen persons, masters, farmhands and the women + folks, seated themselves around the long kitchen table where the soup was + brought in steaming in a large, blue-flowered bowl. + </p> + <p> + The beasts-horses, cows, pigs and sheep-were fat, well fed and clean. + Maitre Lucas, a tall man who was getting stout, would go round three times + a day, overseeing everything and thinking of everything. + </p> + <p> + A very old white horse, which the mistress wished to keep until its + natural death, because she had brought it up and had always used it, and + also because it recalled many happy memories, was housed, through sheer + kindness of heart, at the end of the stable. + </p> + <p> + A young scamp about fifteen years old, Isidore Duval by name, and called, + for convenience, Zidore, took care of this pensioner, gave him his measure + of oats and fodder in winter, and in summer was supposed to change his + pasturing place four times a day, so that he might have plenty of fresh + grass. + </p> + <p> + The animal, almost crippled, lifted with difficulty his legs, large at the + knees and swollen above the hoofs. His coat, which was no longer curried, + looked like white hair, and his long eyelashes gave to his eyes a sad + expression. + </p> + <p> + When Zidore took the animal to pasture, he had to pull on the rope with + all his might, because it walked so slowly; and the youth, bent over and + out of breath, would swear at it, exasperated at having to care for this + old nag. + </p> + <p> + The farmhands, noticing the young rascal's anger against Coco, were amused + and would continually talk of the horse to Zidore, in order to exasperate + him. His comrades would make sport with him. In the village he was called + Coco-Zidore. + </p> + <p> + The boy would fume, feeling an unholy desire to revenge himself on the + horse. He was a thin, long-legged, dirty child, with thick, coarse, + bristly red hair. He seemed only half-witted, and stuttered as though + ideas were unable to form in his thick, brute-like mind. + </p> + <p> + For a long time he had been unable to understand why Coco should be kept, + indignant at seeing things wasted on this useless beast. Since the horse + could no longer work, it seemed to him unjust that he should be fed; he + revolted at the idea of wasting oats, oats which were so expensive, on + this paralyzed old plug. And often, in spite of the orders of Maitre + Lucas, he would economize on the nag's food, only giving him half measure. + Hatred grew in his confused, childlike mind, the hatred of a stingy, mean, + fierce, brutal and cowardly peasant. + </p> + <p> + When summer came he had to move the animal about in the pasture. It was + some distance away. The rascal, angrier every morning, would start, with + his dragging step, across the wheat fields. The men working in the fields + would shout to him, jokingly: + </p> + <p> + “Hey, Zidore, remember me to Coco.” + </p> + <p> + He would not answer; but on the way he would break off a switch, and, as + soon as he had moved the old horse, he would let it begin grazing; then, + treacherously sneaking up behind it, he would slash its legs. The animal + would try to escape, to kick, to get away from the blows, and run around + in a circle about its rope, as though it had been inclosed in a circus + ring. And the boy would slash away furiously, running along behind, his + teeth clenched in anger. + </p> + <p> + Then he would go away slowly, without turning round, while the horse + watched him disappear, his ribs sticking out, panting as a result of his + unusual exertions. Not until the blue blouse of the young peasant was out + of sight would he lower his thin white head to the grass. + </p> + <p> + As the nights were now warm, Coco was allowed to sleep out of doors, in + the field behind the little wood. Zidore alone went to see him. The boy + threw stones at him to amuse himself. He would sit down on an embankment + about ten feet away and would stay there about half an hour, from time to + time throwing a sharp stone at the old horse, which remained standing tied + before his enemy, watching him continually and not daring to eat before he + was gone. + </p> + <p> + This one thought persisted in the mind of the young scamp: “Why feed + this horse, which is no longer good for anything?” It seemed to him + that this old nag was stealing the food of the others, the goods of man + and God, that he was even robbing him, Zidore, who was working. + </p> + <p> + Then, little by little, each day, the boy began to shorten the length of + rope which allowed the horse to graze. + </p> + <p> + The hungry animal was growing thinner, and starving. Too feeble to break + his bonds, he would stretch his head out toward the tall, green, tempting + grass, so near that he could smell, and yet so far that he could not touch + it. + </p> + <p> + But one morning Zidore had an idea: it was, not to move Coco any more. He + was tired of walking so far for that old skeleton. He came, however, in + order to enjoy his vengeance. The beast watched him anxiously. He did not + beat him that day. He walked around him with his hands in his pockets. He + even pretended to change his place, but he sank the stake in exactly the + same hole, and went away overjoyed with his invention. + </p> + <p> + The horse, seeing him leave, neighed to call him back; but the rascal + began to run, leaving him alone, entirely alone in his field, well tied + down and without a blade of grass within reach. + </p> + <p> + Starving, he tried to reach the grass which he could touch with the end of + his nose. He got on his knees, stretching out his neck and his long, + drooling lips. All in vain. The old animal spent the whole day in useless, + terrible efforts. The sight of all that green food, which stretched out on + all sides of him, served to increase the gnawing pangs of hunger. + </p> + <p> + The scamp did not return that day. He wandered through the woods in search + of nests. + </p> + <p> + The next day he appeared upon the scene again. Coco, exhausted, had lain + down. When he saw the boy, he got up, expecting at last to have his place + changed. + </p> + <p> + But the little peasant did not even touch the mallet, which was lying on + the ground. He came nearer, looked at the animal, threw at his head a + clump of earth which flattened out against the white hair, and he started + off again, whistling. + </p> + <p> + The horse remained standing as long as he could see him; then, knowing + that his attempts to reach the near-by grass would be hopeless, he once + more lay down on his side and closed his eyes. + </p> + <p> + The following day Zidore did not come. + </p> + <p> + When he did come at last, he found Coco still stretched out; he saw that + he was dead. + </p> + <p> + Then he remained standing, looking at him, pleased with what he had done, + surprised that it should already be all over. He touched him with his + foot, lifted one of his legs and then let it drop, sat on him and remained + there, his eyes fixed on the grass, thinking of nothing. He returned to + the farm, but did not mention the accident, because he wished to wander + about at the hours when he used to change the horse's pasture. He went to + see him the next day. At his approach some crows flew away. Countless + flies were walking over the body and were buzzing around it. When he + returned home, he announced the event. The animal was so old that nobody + was surprised. The master said to two of the men: + </p> + <p> + “Take your shovels and dig a hole right where he is.” + </p> + <p> + The men buried the horse at the place where he had died of hunger. And the + grass grew thick, green and vigorous, fed by the poor body. + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0190"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + DEAD WOMAN'S SECRET + </h2> + <p> + The woman had died without pain, quietly, as a woman should whose life had + been blameless. Now she was resting in her bed, lying on her back, her + eyes closed, her features calm, her long white hair carefully arranged as + though she had done it up ten minutes before dying. The whole pale + countenance of the dead woman was so collected, so calm, so resigned that + one could feel what a sweet soul had lived in that body, what a quiet + existence this old soul had led, how easy and pure the death of this + parent had been. + </p> + <p> + Kneeling beside the bed, her son, a magistrate with inflexible principles, + and her daughter, Marguerite, known as Sister Eulalie, were weeping as + though their hearts would break. She had, from childhood up, armed them + with a strict moral code, teaching them religion, without weakness, and + duty, without compromise. He, the man, had become a judge and handled the + law as a weapon with which he smote the weak ones without pity. She, the + girl, influenced by the virtue which had bathed her in this austere + family, had become the bride of the Church through her loathing for man. + </p> + <p> + They had hardly known their father, knowing only that he had made their + mother most unhappy, without being told any other details. + </p> + <p> + The nun was wildly-kissing the dead woman's hand, an ivory hand as white + as the large crucifix lying across the bed. On the other side of the long + body the other hand seemed still to be holding the sheet in the death + grasp; and the sheet had preserved the little creases as a memory of those + last movements which precede eternal immobility. + </p> + <p> + A few light taps on the door caused the two sobbing heads to look up, and + the priest, who had just come from dinner, returned. He was red and out of + breath from his interrupted digestion, for he had made himself a strong + mixture of coffee and brandy in order to combat the fatigue of the last + few nights and of the wake which was beginning. + </p> + <p> + He looked sad, with that assumed sadness of the priest for whom death is a + bread winner. He crossed himself and approaching with his professional + gesture: “Well, my poor children! I have come to help you pass these + last sad hours.” But Sister Eulalie suddenly arose. “Thank + you, father, but my brother and I prefer to remain alone with her. This is + our last chance to see her, and we wish to be together, all three of us, + as we—we—used to be when we were small and our poor mo—mother——” + </p> + <p> + Grief and tears stopped her; she could not continue. + </p> + <p> + Once more serene, the priest bowed, thinking of his bed. “As you + wish, my children.” He kneeled, crossed himself, prayed, arose and + went out quietly, murmuring: “She was a saint!” + </p> + <p> + They remained alone, the dead woman and her children. The ticking of the + clock, hidden in the shadow, could be heard distinctly, and through the + open window drifted in the sweet smell of hay and of woods, together with + the soft moonlight. No other noise could be heard over the land except the + occasional croaking of the frog or the chirping of some belated insect. An + infinite peace, a divine melancholy, a silent serenity surrounded this + dead woman, seemed to be breathed out from her and to appease nature + itself. + </p> + <p> + Then the judge, still kneeling, his head buried in the bed clothes, cried + in a voice altered by grief and deadened by the sheets and blankets: + “Mamma, mamma, mamma!” And his sister, frantically striking + her forehead against the woodwork, convulsed, twitching and trembling as + in an epileptic fit, moaned: “Jesus, Jesus, mamma, Jesus!” And + both of them, shaken by a storm of grief, gasped and choked. + </p> + <p> + The crisis slowly calmed down and they began to weep quietly, just as on + the sea when a calm follows a squall. + </p> + <p> + A rather long time passed and they arose and looked at their dead. And the + memories, those distant memories, yesterday so dear, to-day so torturing, + came to their minds with all the little forgotten details, those little + intimate familiar details which bring back to life the one who has left. + They recalled to each other circumstances, words, smiles, intonations of + the mother who was no longer to speak to them. They saw her again happy + and calm. They remembered things which she had said, and a little motion + of the hand, like beating time, which she often used when emphasizing + something important. + </p> + <p> + And they loved her as they never had loved her before. They measured the + depth of their grief, and thus they discovered how lonely they would find + themselves. + </p> + <p> + It was their prop, their guide, their whole youth, all the best part of + their lives which was disappearing. It was their bond with life, their + mother, their mamma, the connecting link with their forefathers which they + would thenceforth miss. They now became solitary, lonely beings; they + could no longer look back. + </p> + <p> + The nun said to her brother: “You remember how mamma used always to + read her old letters; they are all there in that drawer. Let us, in turn, + read them; let us live her whole life through tonight beside her! It would + be like a road to the cross, like making the acquaintance of her mother, + of our grandparents, whom we never knew, but whose letters are there and + of whom she so often spoke, do you remember?” + </p> + <p> + Out of the drawer they took about ten little packages of yellow paper, + tied with care and arranged one beside the other. They threw these relics + on the bed and chose one of them on which the word “Father” + was written. They opened and read it. + </p> + <p> + It was one of those old-fashioned letters which one finds in old family + desk drawers, those epistles which smell of another century. The first one + started: “My dear,” another one: “My beautiful little + girl,” others: “My dear child,” or: “My dear + (laughter).” And suddenly the nun began to read aloud, to read over + to the dead woman her whole history, all her tender memories. The judge, + resting his elbow on the bed, was listening with his eyes fastened on his + mother. The motionless body seemed happy. + </p> + <p> + Sister Eulalie, interrupting herself, said suddenly: + </p> + <p> + “These ought to be put in the grave with her; they ought to be used + as a shroud and she ought to be buried in it.” She took another + package, on which no name was written. She began to read in a firm voice: + “My adored one, I love you wildly. Since yesterday I have been + suffering the tortures of the damned, haunted by our memory. I feel your + lips against mine, your eyes in mine, your breast against mine. I love + you, I love you! You have driven me mad. My arms open, I gasp, moved by a + wild desire to hold you again. My whole soul and body cries out for you, + wants you. I have kept in my mouth the taste of your kisses—” + </p> + <p> + The judge had straightened himself up. The nun stopped reading. He + snatched the letter from her and looked for the signature. There was none, + but only under the words, “The man who adores you,” the name + “Henry.” Their father's name was Rene. Therefore this was not + from him. The son then quickly rummaged through the package of letters, + took one out and read: “I can no longer live without your caresses.” + Standing erect, severe as when sitting on the bench, he looked unmoved at + the dead woman. The nun, straight as a statue, tears trembling in the + corners of her eyes, was watching her brother, waiting. Then he crossed + the room slowly, went to the window and stood there, gazing out into the + dark night. + </p> + <p> + When he turned around again Sister Eulalie, her eyes dry now, was still + standing near the bed, her head bent down. + </p> + <p> + He stepped forward, quickly picked up the letters and threw them pell-mell + back into the drawer. Then he closed the curtains of the bed. + </p> + <p> + When daylight made the candles on the table turn pale the son slowly left + his armchair, and without looking again at the mother upon whom he had + passed sentence, severing the tie that united her to son and daughter, he + said slowly: “Let us now retire, sister.” + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0191"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + A HUMBLE DRAMA + </h2> + <p> + Meetings that are unexpected constitute the charm of traveling. Who has + not experienced the joy of suddenly coming across a Parisian, a college + friend, or a neighbor, five hundred miles from home? Who has not passed a + night awake in one of those small, rattling country stage-coaches, in + regions where steam is still a thing unknown, beside a strange young + woman, of whom one has caught only a glimpse in the dim light of the + lantern, as she entered the carriage in front of a white house in some + small country town? + </p> + <p> + And the next morning, when one's head and ears feel numb with the + continuous tinkling of the bells and the loud rattling of the windows, + what a charming sensation it is to see your pretty neighbor open her eyes, + startled, glance around her, arrange her rebellious hair with her slender + fingers, adjust her hat, feel with sure hand whether her corset is still + in place, her waist straight, and her skirt not too wrinkled. + </p> + <p> + She glances at you coldly and curiously. Then she leans back and no longer + seems interested in anything but the country. + </p> + <p> + In spite of yourself, you watch her; and in spite of yourself you keep on + thinking of her. Who is she? Whence does she come? Where is she going? In + spite of yourself you spin a little romance around her. She is pretty; she + seems charming! Happy he who . . . Life might be delightful with her. Who + knows? She is perhaps the woman of our dreams, the one suited to our + disposition, the one for whom our heart calls. + </p> + <p> + And how delicious even the disappointment at seeing her get out at the + gate of a country house! A man stands there, who is awaiting her, with two + children and two maids. He takes her in his arms and kisses as he lifts + her out. Then she stoops over the little ones, who hold up their hands to + her; she kisses them tenderly; and then they all go away together, down a + path, while the maids catch the packages which the driver throws down to + them from the coach. + </p> + <p> + Adieu! It is all over. You never will see her again! Adieu to the young + woman who has passed the night by your side. You know her no more, you + have not spoken to her; all the same, you feel a little sad to see her go. + Adieu! + </p> + <p> + I have had many of these souvenirs of travel, some joyous and some sad. + </p> + <p> + Once I was in Auvergne, tramping through those delightful French + mountains, that are not too high, not too steep, but friendly and + familiar. I had climbed the Sancy, and entered a little inn, near a + pilgrim's chapel called Notre-Dame de Vassiviere, when I saw a queer, + ridiculous-looking old woman breakfasting alone at the end table. + </p> + <p> + She was at least seventy years old, tall, skinny, and angular, and her + white hair was puffed around her temples in the old-fashioned style. She + was dressed like a traveling Englishwoman, in awkward, queer clothing, + like a person who is indifferent to dress. She was eating an omelet and + drinking water. + </p> + <p> + Her face was peculiar, with restless eyes and the expression of one with + whom fate has dealt unkindly. I watched her, in spite of myself, thinking: + “Who is she? What is the life of this woman? Why is she wandering + alone through these mountains?” + </p> + <p> + She paid and rose to leave, drawing up over her shoulders an astonishing + little shawl, the two ends of which hung over her arms. From a corner of + the room she took an alpenstock, which was covered with names traced with + a hot iron; then she went out, straight, erect, with the long steps of a + letter-carrier who is setting out on his route. + </p> + <p> + A guide was waiting for her at the door, and both went away. I watched + them go down the valley, along the road marked by a line of high wooden + crosses. She was taller than her companion, and seemed to walk faster than + he. + </p> + <p> + Two hours later I was climbing the edge of the deep funnel that incloses + Lake Pavin in a marvelous and enormous basin of verdure, full of trees, + bushes, rocks, and flowers. This lake is so round that it seems as if the + outline had been drawn with a pair of compasses, so clear and blue that + one might deem it a flood of azure come down from the sky, so charming + that one would like to live in a hut on the wooded slope which dominates + this crater, where the cold, still water is sleeping. The Englishwoman was + standing there like a statue, gazing upon the transparent sheet down in + the dead volcano. She was straining her eyes to penetrate below the + surface down to the unknown depths, where monstrous trout which have + devoured all the other fish are said to live. As I was passing close by + her, it seemed to me that two big tears were brimming her eyes. But she + departed at a great pace, to rejoin her guide, who had stayed behind in an + inn at the foot of the path leading to the lake. + </p> + <p> + I did not see her again that day. + </p> + <p> + The next day, at nightfall, I came to the chateau of Murol. The old + fortress, an enormous tower standing on a peak in the midst of a large + valley, where three valleys intersect, rears its brown, uneven, cracked + surface into the sky; it is round, from its large circular base to the + crumbling turrets on its pinnacles. + </p> + <p> + It astonishes the eye more than any other ruin by its simple mass, its + majesty, its grave and imposing air of antiquity. It stands there, alone, + high as a mountain, a dead queen, but still the queen of the valleys + stretched out beneath it. You go up by a slope planted with firs, then you + enter a narrow gate, and stop at the foot of the walls, in the first + inclosure, in full view of the entire country. + </p> + <p> + Inside there are ruined halls, crumbling stairways, unknown cavities, + dungeons, walls cut through in the middle, vaulted roofs held up one knows + not how, and a mass of stones and crevices, overgrown with grass, where + animals glide in and out. + </p> + <p> + I was exploring this ruin alone. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly I perceived behind a bit of wall a being, a kind of phantom, like + the spirit of this ancient and crumbling habitation. + </p> + <p> + I was taken aback with surprise, almost with fear, when I recognized the + old lady whom I had seen twice. + </p> + <p> + She was weeping, with big tears in her eyes, and held her handkerchief in + her hand. + </p> + <p> + I turned around to go away, when she spoke to me, apparently ashamed to + have been surprised in her grief. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, monsieur, I am crying. That does not happen often to me.” + </p> + <p> + “Pardon me, madame, for having disturbed you,” I stammered, + confused, not knowing what to say. “Some misfortune has doubtless + come to you.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. No—I am like a lost dog,” she murmured, and began + to sob, with her handkerchief over her eyes. + </p> + <p> + Moved by these contagious tears, I took her hand, trying to calm her. Then + brusquely she told me her history, as if no longer ably to bear her grief + alone. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! Oh! Monsieur—if you knew—the sorrow in which I live—in + what sorrow. + </p> + <p> + “Once I was happy. I have a house down there—a home. I cannot + go back to it any more; I shall never go back to it again, it is too hard + to bear. + </p> + <p> + “I have a son. It is he! it is he! Children don't know. Oh, one has + such a short time to live! If I should see him now I should perhaps not + recognize him. How I loved him? How I loved him! Even before he was born, + when I felt him move. And after that! How I have kissed and caressed and + cherished him! If you knew how many nights I have passed in watching him + sleep, and how many in thinking of him. I was crazy about him. When he was + eight years old his father sent him to boarding-school. That was the end. + He no longer belonged to me. Oh, heavens! He came to see me every Sunday. + That was all! + </p> + <p> + “He went to college in Paris. Then he came only four times a year, + and every time I was astonished to see how he had changed, to find him + taller without having seen him grow. They stole his childhood from me, his + confidence, and his love which otherwise would not have gone away from me; + they stole my joy in seeing him grow, in seeing him become a little man. + </p> + <p> + “I saw him four times a year. Think of it! And at every one of his + visits his body, his eye, his movements, his voice his laugh, were no + longer the same, were no longer mine. All these things change so quickly + in a child; and it is so sad if one is not there to see them change; one + no longer recognizes him. + </p> + <p> + “One year he came with down on his cheek! He! my son! I was + dumfounded —would you believe it? I hardly dared to kiss him. Was it + really he, my little, little curly head of old, my dear; dear child, whom + I had held in his diapers or my knee, and who had nursed at my breast with + his little greedy lips—was it he, this tall, brown boy, who no + longer knew how to kiss me, who seemed to love me as a matter of duty, who + called me 'mother' for the sake of politeness, and who kissed me on the + forehead, when I felt like crushing him in my arms? + </p> + <p> + “My husband died. Then my parents, and then my two sisters. When + Death enters a house it seems as if he were hurrying to do his utmost, so + as not to have to return for a long time after that. He spares only one or + two to mourn the others. + </p> + <p> + “I remained alone. My tall son was then studying law. I was hoping + to live and die near him, and I went to him so that we could live + together. But he had fallen into the ways of young men, and he gave me to + understand that I was in his way. So I left. I was wrong in doing so, but + I suffered too much in feeling myself in his way, I, his mother! And I + came back home. + </p> + <p> + “I hardly ever saw him again. + </p> + <p> + “He married. What a joy! At last we should be together for good. I + should have grandchildren. His wife was an Englishwoman, who took a + dislike to me. Why? Perhaps she thought that I loved him too much. + </p> + <p> + “Again I was obliged to go away. And I was alone. Yes, monsieur. + </p> + <p> + “Then he went to England, to live with them, with his wife's + parents. Do you understand? They have him—they have my son for + themselves. They have stolen him from me. He writes to me once a month. At + first he came to see me. But now he no longer comes. + </p> + <p> + “It is now four years since I saw him last. His face then was + wrinkled and his hair white. Was that possible? This man, my son, almost + an old man? My little rosy child of old? No doubt I shall never see him + again. + </p> + <p> + “And so I travel about all the year. I go east and west, as you see, + with no companion. + </p> + <p> + “I am like a lost dog. Adieu, monsieur! don't stay here with me for + it hurts me to have told you all this.” + </p> + <p> + I went down the hill, and on turning round to glance back, I saw the old + woman standing on a broken wall, looking out upon the mountains, the long + valley and Lake Chambon in the distance. + </p> + <p> + And her skirt and the queer little shawl which she wore around her thin + shoulders were fluttering tike a flag in the wind. + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0192"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + MADEMOISELLE COCOTTE + </h2> + <p> + We were just leaving the asylum when I saw a tall, thin man in a corner of + the court who kept on calling an imaginary dog. He was crying in a soft, + tender voice: “Cocotte! Come here, Cocotte, my beauty!” and + slapping his thigh as one does when calling an animal. I asked the + physician, “Who is that man?” He answered: “Oh! he is + not at all interesting. He is a coachman named Francois, who became insane + after drowning his dog.” + </p> + <p> + I insisted: “Tell me his story. The most simple and humble things + are sometimes those which touch our hearts most deeply.” + </p> + <p> + Here is this man's adventure, which was obtained from a friend of his, a + groom: + </p> + <p> + There was a family of rich bourgeois who lived in a suburb of Paris. They + had a villa in the middle of a park, at the edge of the Seine. Their + coachman was this Francois, a country fellow, somewhat dull, kind-hearted, + simple and easy to deceive. + </p> + <p> + One evening, as he was returning home, a dog began to follow him. At first + he paid no attention to it, but the creature's obstinacy at last made him + turn round. He looked to see if he knew this dog. No, he had never seen + it. It was a female dog and frightfully thin. She was trotting behind him + with a mournful and famished look, her tail between her legs, her ears + flattened against her head and stopping and starting whenever he did. + </p> + <p> + He tried to chase this skeleton away and cried: + </p> + <p> + “Run along! Get out! Kss! kss!” She retreated a few steps, + then sat down and waited. And when the coachman started to walk again she + followed along behind him. + </p> + <p> + He pretended to pick up some stones. The animal ran a little farther away, + but came back again as soon as the man's back was turned. + </p> + <p> + Then the coachman Francois took pity on the beast and called her. The dog + approached timidly. The man patted her protruding ribs, moved by the + beast's misery, and he cried: “Come! come here!” Immediately + she began to wag her tail, and, feeling herself taken in, adopted, she + began to run along ahead of her new master. + </p> + <p> + He made her a bed on the straw in the stable, then he ran to the kitchen + for some bread. When she had eaten all she could she curled up and went to + sleep. + </p> + <p> + When his employers heard of this the next day they allowed the coachman to + keep the animal. It was a good beast, caressing and faithful, intelligent + and gentle. + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless Francois adored Cocotte, and he kept repeating: “That + beast is human. She only lacks speech.” + </p> + <p> + He had a magnificent red leather collar made for her which bore these + words engraved on a copper plate: “Mademoiselle Cocotte, belonging + to the coachman Francois.” + </p> + <p> + She was remarkably prolific and four times a year would give birth to a + batch of little animals belonging to every variety of the canine race. + Francois would pick out one which he would leave her and then he would + unmercifully throw the others into the river. But soon the cook joined her + complaints to those of the gardener. She would find dogs under the stove, + in the ice box, in the coal bin, and they would steal everything they came + across. + </p> + <p> + Finally the master, tired of complaints, impatiently ordered Francois to + get rid of Cocotte. In despair the man tried to give her away. Nobody + wanted her. Then he decided to lose her, and he gave her to a teamster, + who was to drop her on the other side of Paris, near Joinville-le-Pont. + </p> + <p> + Cocotte returned the same day. Some decision had to be taken. Five francs + was given to a train conductor to take her to Havre. He was to drop her + there. + </p> + <p> + Three days later she returned to the stable, thin, footsore and tired out. + </p> + <p> + The master took pity on her and let her stay. But other dogs were + attracted as before, and one evening, when a big dinner party was on, a + stuffed turkey was carried away by one of them right under the cook's + nose, and she did not dare to stop him. + </p> + <p> + This time the master completely lost his temper and said angrily to + Francois: “If you don't throw this beast into the water before—to-morrow + morning, I'll put you out, do you hear?” + </p> + <p> + The man was dumbfounded, and he returned to his room to pack his trunk, + preferring to leave the place. Then he bethought himself that he could + find no other situation as long as he dragged this animal about with him. + He thought of his good position, where he was well paid and well fed, and + he decided that a dog was really not worth all that. At last he decided to + rid himself of Cocotte at daybreak. + </p> + <p> + He slept badly. He rose at dawn, and taking a strong rope, went to get the + dog. She stood up slowly, shook herself, stretched and came to welcome her + master. + </p> + <p> + Then his courage forsook him, and he began to pet her affectionately, + stroking her long ears, kissing her muzzle and calling her tender names. + </p> + <p> + But a neighboring clock struck six. He could no longer hesitate. He opened + the door, calling: “Come!” The beast wagged her tail, + understanding that she was to be taken out. + </p> + <p> + They reached the beach, and he chose a place where the water seemed deep. + Then he knotted the rope round the leather collar and tied a heavy stone + to the other end. He seized Cocotte in his arms and kissed her madly, as + though he were taking leave of some human being. He held her to his + breast, rocked her and called her “my dear little Cocotte, my sweet + little Cocotte,” and she grunted with pleasure. + </p> + <p> + Ten times he tried to throw her into the water and each time he lost + courage. + </p> + <p> + But suddenly he made up his mind and threw her as far from him as he + could. At first she tried to swim, as she did when he gave her a bath, but + her head, dragged down by the stone, kept going under, and she looked at + her master with wild, human glances as she struggled like a drowning + person. Then the front part of her body sank, while her hind legs waved + wildly out of the water. Finally those also disappeared. + </p> + <p> + Then, for five minutes, bubbles rose to the surface as though the river + were boiling, and Francois, haggard, his heart beating, thought that he + saw Cocotte struggling in the mud, and, with the simplicity of a peasant, + he kept saying to himself: “What does the poor beast think of me + now?” + </p> + <p> + He almost lost his mind. He was ill for a month and every night he dreamed + of his dog. He could feel her licking his hands and hear her barking. It + was necessary to call in a physician. At last he recovered, and toward the + 2nd of June his employers took him to their estate at Biesard, near Rouen. + </p> + <p> + There again he was near the Seine. He began to take baths. Each morning he + would go down with the groom and they would swim across the river. + </p> + <p> + One day, as they were disporting themselves in the water, Francois + suddenly cried to his companion: “Look what's coming! I'm going to + give you a chop!” + </p> + <p> + It was an enormous, swollen corpse that was floating down with its feet + sticking straight up in the air. + </p> + <p> + Francois swam up to it, still joking: “Whew! it's not fresh. What a + catch, old man! It isn't thin, either!” He kept swimming about at a + distance from the animal that was in a state of decomposition. Then, + suddenly, he was silent and looked at it: attentively. This time he came + near enough to touch, it. He looked fixedly at the collar, then he + stretched out his arm, seized the neck, swung the corpse round and drew it + up close to him and read on the copper which had turned green and which + still stuck to the discolored leather: “Mademoiselle Cocotte, + belonging to the coachman Francois.” + </p> + <p> + The dead dog had come more than a hundred miles to find its master. + </p> + <p> + He let out a frightful shriek and began to swim for the beach with all his + might, still howling; and as soon as he touched land he ran away wildly, + stark naked, through the country. He was insane! + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0193"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + THE CORSICAN BANDIT + </h2> + <p> + The road ascended gently through the forest of Aitone. The large pines + formed a solemn dome above our heads, and that mysterious sound made by + the wind in the trees sounded like the notes of an organ. + </p> + <p> + After walking for three hours, there was a clearing, and then at intervals + an enormous pine umbrella, and then we suddenly came to the edge of the + forest, some hundred meters below, the pass leading to the wild valley of + Niolo. + </p> + <p> + On the two projecting heights which commanded a view of this pass, some + old trees, grotesquely twisted, seemed to have mounted with painful + efforts, like scouts sent in advance of the multitude in the rear. When we + turned round, we saw the entire forest stretched beneath our feet, like a + gigantic basin of verdure, inclosed by bare rocks whose summits seemed to + reach the sky. + </p> + <p> + We resumed our walk, and, ten minutes later, found ourselves in the pass. + </p> + <p> + Then I beheld a remarkable landscape. Beyond another forest stretched a + valley, but a valley such as I had never seen before; a solitude of stone, + ten leagues long, hollowed out between two high mountains, without a field + or a tree to be seen. This was the Niolo valley, the fatherland of + Corsican liberty, the inaccessible citadel, from which the invaders had + never been able to drive out the mountaineers. + </p> + <p> + My companion said to me: “This is where all our bandits have taken + refuge?” + </p> + <p> + Ere long we were at the further end of this gorge, so wild, so + inconceivably beautiful. + </p> + <p> + Not a blade of grass, not a plant-nothing but granite. As far as our eyes + could reach, we saw in front of us a desert of glittering stone, heated + like an oven by a burning sun, which seemed to hang for that very purpose + right above the gorge. When we raised our eyes towards the crests, we + stood dazzled and stupefied by what we saw. They looked like a festoon of + coral; all the summits are of porphyry; and the sky overhead was violet, + purple, tinged with the coloring of these strange mountains. Lower down, + the granite was of scintillating gray, and seemed ground to powder beneath + our feet. At our right, along a long and irregular course, roared a + tumultuous torrent. And we staggered along under this heat, in this light, + in this burning, arid, desolate valley cut by this torrent of turbulent + water which seemed to be ever hurrying onward, without fertilizing the + rocks, lost in this furnace which greedily drank it up without being + saturated or refreshed by it. + </p> + <p> + But, suddenly, there was visible at our right a little wooden cross sunk + in a little heap of stones. A man had been killed there; and I said to my + companion. + </p> + <p> + “Tell me about your bandits.” + </p> + <p> + He replied: + </p> + <p> + “I knew the most celebrated of them, the terrible St. Lucia. I will + tell you his history. + </p> + <p> + “His father was killed in a quarrel by a young man of the district, + it is said; and St. Lucia was left alone with his sister. He was a weak, + timid youth, small, often ill, without any energy. He did not proclaim + vengeance against the assassin of his father. All his relatives came to + see him, and implored of him to avenge his death; he remained deaf to + their menaces and their supplications. + </p> + <p> + “Then, following the old Corsican custom, his sister, in her + indignation carried away his black clothes, in order that he might not + wear mourning for a dead man who had not been avenged. He was insensible + to even this affront, and rather than take down from the rack his father's + gun, which was still loaded, he shut himself up, not daring to brave the + looks of the young men of the district. + </p> + <p> + “He seemed to have even forgotten the crime, and lived with his + sister in the seclusion of their dwelling. + </p> + <p> + “But, one day, the man who was suspected of having committed the + murder, was about to get married. St. Lucia did not appear to be moved by + this news, but, out of sheer bravado, doubtless, the bridegroom, on his + way to the church, passed before the house of the two orphans. + </p> + <p> + “The brother and the sister, at their window, were eating frijoles, + when the young man saw the bridal procession going by. Suddenly he began + to tremble, rose to his feet without uttering a word, made the sign of the + cross, took the gun which was hanging over the fireplace, and went out. + </p> + <p> + “When he spoke of this later on, he said: 'I don't know what was the + matter with me; it was like fire in my blood; I felt that I must do it, + that, in spite of everything, I could not resist, and I concealed the gun + in a cave on the road to Corte. + </p> + <p> + “An hour later, he came back, with nothing in his hand, and with his + habitual air of sad weariness. His sister believed that there was nothing + further in his thoughts. + </p> + <p> + “But when night fell he disappeared. + </p> + <p> + “His enemy had, the same evening, to repair to Corte on foot, + accompanied by his two groomsmen. + </p> + <p> + “He was walking along, singing as he went, when St. Lucia stood + before him, and looking straight in the murderer's face, exclaimed: 'Now + is the time!' and shot him point-blank in the chest. + </p> + <p> + “One of the men fled; the other stared at, the young man, saying: + </p> + <p> + “'What have you done, St. Lucia?' and he was about to hasten to + Corte for help, when St. Lucia said in a stern tone: + </p> + <p> + “'If you move another step, I'll shoot you in the leg.' + </p> + <p> + “The other, aware of his timidity hitherto, replied: 'You would not + dare to do it!' and was hurrying off when he fell instantaneously, his + thigh shattered by a bullet. + </p> + <p> + “And St. Lucia, coming over to where he lay, said: + </p> + <p> + “'I am going to look at your wound; if it is not serious, I'll leave + you there; if it is mortal I'll finish you off.” + </p> + <p> + “He inspected the wound, considered it mortal, and slowly reloading + his gun, told the wounded man to say a prayer, and shot him through the + head. + </p> + <p> + “Next day he was in the mountains. + </p> + <p> + “And do you know what this St. Lucia did after this? + </p> + <p> + “All his family were arrested by the gendarmes. His uncle, the cure, + who was suspected of having incited him to this deed of vengeance, was + himself put in prison, and accused by the dead man's relatives. But he + escaped, took a gun in his turn, and went to join his nephew in the brush. + </p> + <p> + “Next, St. Lucia killed, one after the other, his uncle's accusers, + and tore out their eyes to teach the others never to state what they had + seen with their eyes. + </p> + <p> + “He killed all the relatives, all the connections of his enemy's + family. He slew during his life fourteen gendarmes, burned down the houses + of his adversaries, and was, up to the day of his death, the most terrible + of all the bandits whose memory we have preserved.” + </p> + <p> + The sun disappeared behind Monte Cinto and the tall shadow of the granite + mountain went to sleep on the granite of the valley. We quickened our pace + in order to reach before night the little village of Albertaccio, nothing + but a pile of stones welded into the stone flanks of a wild gorge. And I + said as I thought of the bandit: + </p> + <p> + “What a terrible custom your vendetta is!” + </p> + <p> + My companion answered with an air of resignation: + </p> + <p> + “What would you have? A man must do his duty!” + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0194"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + THE GRAVE + </h2> + <p> + The seventeenth of July, one thousand eight hundred and eighty-three, at + half-past two in the morning, the watchman in the cemetery of Besiers, who + lived in a small cottage on the edge of this field of the dead, was + awakened by the barking of his dog, which was shut up in the kitchen. + </p> + <p> + Going down quickly, he saw the animal sniffing at the crack of the door + and barking furiously, as if some tramp had been sneaking about the house. + The keeper, Vincent, therefore took his gun and went out. + </p> + <p> + His dog, preceding him, at once ran in the direction of the Avenue General + Bonnet, stopping short at the monument of Madame Tomoiseau. + </p> + <p> + The keeper, advancing cautiously, soon saw a faint light on the side of + the Avenue Malenvers, and stealing in among the graves, he came upon a + horrible act of profanation. + </p> + <p> + A man had dug up the coffin of a young woman who had been buried the + evening before and was dragging the corpse out of it. + </p> + <p> + A small dark lantern, standing on a pile of earth, lighted up this hideous + scene. + </p> + <p> + Vincent sprang upon the wretch, threw him to the ground, bound his hands + and took him to the police station. + </p> + <p> + It was a young, wealthy and respected lawyer in town, named Courbataille. + </p> + <p> + He was brought into court. The public prosecutor opened the case by + referring to the monstrous deeds of the Sergeant Bertrand. + </p> + <p> + A wave of indignation swept over the courtroom. When the magistrate sat + down the crowd assembled cried: “Death! death!” With + difficulty the presiding judge established silence. + </p> + <p> + Then he said gravely: + </p> + <p> + “Defendant, what have you to say in your defense?” + </p> + <p> + Courbataille, who had refused counsel, rose. He was a handsome fellow, + tall, brown, with a frank face, energetic manner and a fearless eye. + </p> + <p> + Paying no attention to the whistlings in the room, he began to speak in a + voice that was low and veiled at first, but that grew more firm as he + proceeded. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur le President, gentlemen of the jury: I have very little to + say. The woman whose grave I violated was my sweetheart. I loved her. + </p> + <p> + “I loved her, not with a sensual love and not with mere tenderness + of heart and soul, but with an absolute, complete love, with an + overpowering passion. + </p> + <p> + “Hear me: + </p> + <p> + “When I met her for the first time I felt a strange sensation. It + was not astonishment nor admiration, nor yet that which is called love at + first sight, but a feeling of delicious well-being, as if I had been + plunged into a warm bath. Her gestures seduced me, her voice enchanted me, + and it was with infinite pleasure that I looked upon her person. It seemed + to me as if I had seen her before and as if I had known her a long time. + She had within her something of my spirit. + </p> + <p> + “She seemed to me like an answer to a cry uttered by my soul, to + that vague and unceasing cry with which we call upon Hope during our whole + life. + </p> + <p> + “When I knew her a little better, the mere thought of seeing her + again filled me with exquisite and profound uneasiness; the touch of her + hand in mine was more delightful to me than anything that I had imagined; + her smile filled me with a mad joy, with the desire to run, to dance, to + fling myself upon the ground. + </p> + <p> + “So we became lovers. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, more than that: she was my very life. I looked for nothing + further on earth, and had no further desires. I longed for nothing + further. + </p> + <p> + “One evening, when we had gone on a somewhat long walk by the river, + we were overtaken by the rain, and she caught cold. It developed into + pneumonia the next day, and a week later she was dead. + </p> + <p> + “During the hours of her suffering astonishment and consternation + prevented my understanding and reflecting upon it, but when she was dead I + was so overwhelmed by blank despair that I had no thoughts left. I wept. + </p> + <p> + “During all the horrible details of the interment my keen and wild + grief was like a madness, a kind of sensual, physical grief. + </p> + <p> + “Then when she was gone, when she was under the earth, my mind at + once found itself again, and I passed through a series of moral sufferings + so terrible that even the love she had vouchsafed to me was dear at that + price. + </p> + <p> + “Then the fixed idea came to me: I shall not see her again. + </p> + <p> + “When one dwells on this thought for a whole day one feels as if he + were going mad. Just think of it! There is a woman whom you adore, a + unique woman, for in the whole universe there is not a second one like + her. This woman has given herself to you and has created with you the + mysterious union that is called Love. Her eye seems to you more vast than + space, more charming than the world, that clear eye smiling with her + tenderness. This woman loves you. When she speaks to you her voice floods + you with joy. + </p> + <p> + “And suddenly she disappears! Think of it! She disappears, not only + for you, but forever. She is dead. Do you understand what that means? + Never, never, never, not anywhere will she exist any more. Nevermore will + that eye look upon anything again; nevermore will that voice, nor any + voice like it, utter a word in the same way as she uttered it. + </p> + <p> + “Nevermore will a face be born that is like hers. Never, never! The + molds of statues are kept; casts are kept by which one can make objects + with the same outlines and forms. But that one body and that one face will + never more be born again upon the earth. And yet millions and millions of + creatures will be born, and more than that, and this one woman will not + reappear among all the women of the future. Is it possible? It drives one + mad to think of it. + </p> + <p> + “She lived for twenty years, not more, and she has disappeared + forever, forever, forever! She thought, she smiled, she loved me. And now + nothing! The flies that die in the autumn are as much as we are in this + world. And now nothing! And I thought that her body, her fresh body, so + warm, so sweet, so white, so lovely, would rot down there in that box + under the earth. And her soul, her thought, her love—where is it? + </p> + <p> + “Not to see her again! The idea of this decomposing body, that I + might yet recognize, haunted me. I wanted to look at it once more. + </p> + <p> + “I went out with a spade, a lantern and a hammer; I jumped over the + cemetery wall and I found the grave, which had not yet been closed + entirely; I uncovered the coffin and took up a board. An abominable odor, + the stench of putrefaction, greeted my nostrils. Oh, her bed perfumed with + orris! + </p> + <p> + “Yet I opened the coffin, and, holding my lighted lantern down into + it I saw her. Her face was blue, swollen, frightful. A black liquid had + oozed out of her mouth. + </p> + <p> + “She! That was she! Horror seized me. But I stretched out my arm to + draw this monstrous face toward me. And then I was caught. + </p> + <p> + “All night I have retained the foul odor of this putrid body, the + odor of my well beloved, as one retains the perfume of a woman after a + love embrace. + </p> + <p> + “Do with me what you will.” + </p> + <p> + A strange silence seemed to oppress the room. They seemed to be waiting + for something more. The jury retired to deliberate. + </p> + <p> + When they came back a few minutes later the accused showed no fear and did + not even seem to think. + </p> + <p> + The president announced with the usual formalities that his judges + declared him to be not guilty. + </p> + <p> + He did not move and the room applauded. + </p> +<div class='pre'> + The Grave appeared in Gil Blas, July 29, 1883, under the signature + of “Maufrigneuse.” + </div> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0195"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + ORIGINAL SHORT STORIES, Vol. 13. + </h2> +<div class='pre'> + GUY DE MAUPASSANT + ORIGINAL SHORT STORIES + Translated by + ALBERT M. C. McMASTER, B.A. + A. E. HENDERSON, B.A. + MME. QUESADA and Others +</div> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0196"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + VOLUME XIII. + </h2> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0197"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + OLD JUDAS + </h2> + <p> + This entire stretch of country was amazing; it was characterized by a + grandeur that was almost religious, and yet it had an air of sinister + desolation. + </p> + <p> + A great, wild lake, filled with stagnant, black water, in which thousands + of reeds were waving to and fro, lay in the midst of a vast circle of + naked hills, where nothing grew but broom, or here and there an oak + curiously twisted by the wind. + </p> + <p> + Just one house stood on the banks of that dark lake, a small, low house + inhabited by Uncle Joseph, an old boatman, who lived on what he could make + by his fishing. Once a week he carried the fish he caught into the + surrounding villages, returning with the few provisions that he needed for + his sustenance. + </p> + <p> + I went to see this old hermit, who offered to take me with him to his + nets, and I accepted. + </p> + <p> + His boat was old, worm-eaten and clumsy, and the skinny old man rowed with + a gentle and monotonous stroke that was soothing to the soul, already + oppressed by the sadness of the land round about. + </p> + <p> + It seemed to me as if I were transported to olden times, in the midst of + that ancient country, in that primitive boat, which was propelled by a man + of another age. + </p> + <p> + He took up his nets and threw the fish into the bottom of the boat, as the + fishermen of the Bible might have done. Then he took me down to the end of + the lake, where I suddenly perceived a ruin on the other side of the bank + a dilapidated hut, with an enormous red cross on the wall that looked as + if it might have been traced with blood, as it gleamed in the last rays of + the setting sun. + </p> + <p> + “What is that?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “That is where Judas died,” the man replied, crossing himself. + </p> + <p> + I was not surprised, being almost prepared for this strange answer. + </p> + <p> + Still I asked: + </p> + <p> + “Judas? What Judas?” + </p> + <p> + “The Wandering Jew, monsieur,” he added. + </p> + <p> + I asked him to tell me this legend. + </p> + <p> + But it was better than a legend, being a true story, and quite a recent + one, since Uncle Joseph had known the man. + </p> + <p> + This hut had formerly been occupied by a large woman, a kind of beggar, + who lived on public charity. + </p> + <p> + Uncle Joseph did not remember from whom she had this hut. One evening an + old man with a white beard, who seemed to be at least two hundred years + old, and who could hardly drag himself along, asked alms of this forlorn + woman, as he passed her dwelling. + </p> + <p> + “Sit down, father,” she replied; “everything here + belongs to all the world, since it comes from all the world.” + </p> + <p> + He sat down on a stone before the door. He shared the woman's bread, her + bed of leaves, and her house. + </p> + <p> + He did not leave her again, for he had come to the end of his travels. + </p> + <p> + “It was Our Lady the Virgin who permitted this, monsieur,” + Joseph added, “it being a woman who had opened her door to a Judas, + for this old vagabond was the Wandering Jew. It was not known at first in + the country, but the people suspected it very soon, because he was always + walking; it had become a sort of second nature to him.” + </p> + <p> + And suspicion had been aroused by still another thing. This woman, who + kept that stranger with her, was thought to be a Jewess, for no one had + ever seen her at church. For ten miles around no one ever called her + anything else but the Jewess. + </p> + <p> + When the little country children saw her come to beg they cried out: + “Mamma, mamma, here is the Jewess!” + </p> + <p> + The old man and she began to go out together into the neighboring + districts, holding out their hands at all the doors, stammering + supplications into the ears of all the passers. They could be seen at all + hours of the day, on by-paths, in the villages, or again eating bread, + sitting in the noon heat under the shadow of some solitary tree. And the + country people began to call the beggar Old Judas. + </p> + <p> + One day he brought home in his sack two little live pigs, which a farmer + had given him after he had cured the farmer of some sickness. + </p> + <p> + Soon he stopped begging, and devoted himself entirely to his pigs. He took + them out to feed by the lake, or under isolated oaks, or in the near-by + valleys. The woman, however, went about all day begging, but she always + came back to him in the evening. + </p> + <p> + He also did not go to church, and no one ever had seen him cross himself + before the wayside crucifixes. All this gave rise to much gossip: + </p> + <p> + One night his companion was attacked by a fever and began to tremble like + a leaf in the wind. He went to the nearest town to get some medicine, and + then he shut himself up with her, and was not seen for six days. + </p> + <p> + The priest, having heard that the “Jewess” was about to die, + came to offer the consolation of his religion and administer the last + sacrament. Was she a Jewess? He did not know. But in any case, he wished + to try to save her soul. + </p> + <p> + Hardly had he knocked at the door when old Judas appeared on the + threshold, breathing hard, his eyes aflame, his long beard agitated, like + rippling water, and he hurled blasphemies in an unknown language, + extending his skinny arms in order to prevent the priest from entering. + </p> + <p> + The priest attempted to speak, offered his purse and his aid, but the old + man kept on abusing him, making gestures with his hands as if throwing; + stones at him. + </p> + <p> + Then the priest retired, followed by the curses of the beggar. + </p> + <p> + The companion of old Judas died the following day. He buried her himself, + in front of her door. They were people of so little account that no one + took any interest in them. + </p> + <p> + Then they saw the man take his pigs out again to the lake and up the + hillsides. And he also began begging again to get food. But the people + gave him hardly anything, as there was so much gossip about him. Every one + knew, moreover, how he had treated the priest. + </p> + <p> + Then he disappeared. That was during Holy Week, but no one paid any + attention to him. + </p> + <p> + But on Easter Sunday the boys and girls who had gone walking out to the + lake heard a great noise in the hut. The door was locked; but the boys + broke it in, and the two pigs ran out, jumping like gnats. No one ever saw + them again. + </p> + <p> + The whole crowd went in; they saw some old rags on the floor, the beggar's + hat, some bones, clots of dried blood and bits of flesh in the hollows of + the skull. + </p> + <p> + His pigs had devoured him. + </p> + <p> + “This happened on Good Friday, monsieur.” Joseph concluded his + story, “three hours after noon.” + </p> + <p> + “How do you know that?” I asked him. + </p> + <p> + “There is no doubt about that,” he replied. + </p> + <p> + I did not attempt to make him understand that it could easily happen that + the famished animals had eaten their master, after he had died suddenly in + his hut. + </p> + <p> + As for the cross on the wall, it had appeared one morning, and no one knew + what hand traced it in that strange color. + </p> + <p> + Since then no one doubted any longer that the Wandering Jew had died on + this spot. + </p> + <p> + I myself believed it for one hour. + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0198"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + THE LITTLE CASK + </h2> + <p> + He was a tall man of forty or thereabout, this Jules Chicot, the innkeeper + of Spreville, with a red face and a round stomach, and said by those who + knew him to be a smart business man. He stopped his buggy in front of + Mother Magloire's farmhouse, and, hitching the horse to the gatepost, went + in at the gate. + </p> + <p> + Chicot owned some land adjoining that of the old woman, which he had been + coveting for a long while, and had tried in vain to buy a score of times, + but she had always obstinately refused to part with it. + </p> + <p> + “I was born here, and here I mean to die,” was all she said. + </p> + <p> + He found her peeling potatoes outside the farmhouse door. She was a woman + of about seventy-two, very thin, shriveled and wrinkled, almost dried up + in fact and much bent but as active and untiring as a girl. Chicot patted + her on the back in a friendly fashion and then sat down by her on a stool. + </p> + <p> + “Well mother, you are always pretty well and hearty, I am glad to + see.” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing to complain of, considering, thank you. And how are you, + Monsieur Chicot?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, pretty well, thank you, except a few rheumatic pains + occasionally; otherwise I have nothing to complain of.” + </p> + <p> + “So much the better.” + </p> + <p> + And she said no more, while Chicot watched her going on with her work. Her + crooked, knotted fingers, hard as a lobster's claws, seized the tubers, + which were lying in a pail, as if they had been a pair of pincers, and she + peeled them rapidly, cutting off long strips of skin with an old knife + which she held in the other hand, throwing the potatoes into the water as + they were done. Three daring fowls jumped one after the other into her + lap, seized a bit of peel and then ran away as fast as their legs would + carry them with it in their beak. + </p> + <p> + Chicot seemed embarrassed, anxious, with something on the tip of his + tongue which he could not say. At last he said hurriedly: + </p> + <p> + “Listen, Mother Magloire—” + </p> + <p> + “Well, what is it?” + </p> + <p> + “You are quite sure that you do not want to sell your land?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly not; you may make up your mind to that. What I have said + I have said, so don't refer to it again.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well; only I think I know of an arrangement that might suit us + both very well.” + </p> + <p> + “What is it?” + </p> + <p> + “Just this. You shall sell it to me and keep it all the same. You + don't understand? Very well, then follow me in what I am going to say.” + </p> + <p> + The old woman left off peeling potatoes and looked at the innkeeper + attentively from under her heavy eyebrows, and he went on: + </p> + <p> + “Let me explain myself. Every month I will give you a hundred and + fifty francs. You understand me! suppose! Every month I will come and + bring you thirty crowns, and it will not make the slightest difference in + your life—not the very slightest. You will have your own home just + as you have now, need not trouble yourself about me, and will owe me + nothing; all you will have to do will be to take my money. Will that + arrangement suit you?” + </p> + <p> + He looked at her good-humoredly, one might almost have said benevolently, + and the old woman returned his looks distrustfully, as if she suspected a + trap, and said: + </p> + <p> + “It seems all right as far as I am concerned, but it will not give + you the farm.” + </p> + <p> + “Never mind about that,” he said; “you may remain here + as long as it pleases God Almighty to let you live; it will be your home. + Only you will sign a deed before a lawyer making it over to me; after your + death. You have no children, only nephews and nieces for whom you don't + care a straw. Will that suit you? You will keep everything during your + life, and I will give you the thirty crowns a month. It is pure gain as + far as you are concerned.” + </p> + <p> + The old woman was surprised, rather uneasy, but, nevertheless, very much + tempted to agree, and answered: + </p> + <p> + “I don't say that I will not agree to it, but I must think about it. + Come back in a week, and we will talk it over again, and I will then give + you my definite answer.” + </p> + <p> + And Chicot went off as happy as a king who had conquered an empire. + </p> + <p> + Mother Magloire was thoughtful, and did not sleep at all that night; in + fact, for four days she was in a fever of hesitation. She suspected that + there was something underneath the offer which was not to her advantage; + but then the thought of thirty crowns a month, of all those coins clinking + in her apron, falling to her, as it were, from the skies, without her + doing anything for it, aroused her covetousness. + </p> + <p> + She went to the notary and told him about it. He advised her to accept + Chicot's offer, but said she ought to ask for an annuity of fifty instead + of thirty, as her farm was worth sixty thousand francs at the lowest + calculation. + </p> + <p> + “If you live for fifteen years longer,” he said, “even + then he will only have paid forty-five thousand francs for it.” + </p> + <p> + The old woman trembled with joy at this prospect of getting fifty crowns a + month, but she was still suspicious, fearing some trick, and she remained + a long time with the lawyer asking questions without being able to make up + her mind to go. At last she gave him instructions to draw up the deed and + returned home with her head in a whirl, just as if she had drunk four jugs + of new cider. + </p> + <p> + When Chicot came again to receive her answer she declared, after a lot of + persuading, that she could not make up her mind to agree to his proposal, + though she was all the time trembling lest he should not consent to give + the fifty crowns, but at last, when he grew urgent, she told him what she + expected for her farm. + </p> + <p> + He looked surprised and disappointed and refused. + </p> + <p> + Then, in order to convince him, she began to talk about the probable + duration of her life. + </p> + <p> + “I am certainly not likely to live more than five or six years + longer. I am nearly seventy-three, and far from strong, even considering + my age. The other evening I thought I was going to die, and could hardly + manage to crawl into bed.” + </p> + <p> + But Chicot was not going to be taken in. + </p> + <p> + “Come, come, old lady, you are as strong as the church tower, and + will live till you are a hundred at least; you will no doubt see me put + under ground first.” + </p> + <p> + The whole day was spent in discussing the money, and as the old woman + would not give in, the innkeeper consented to give the fifty crowns, and + she insisted upon having ten crowns over and above to strike the bargain. + </p> + <p> + Three years passed and the old dame did not seem to have grown a day + older. Chicot was in despair, and it seemed to him as if he had been + paying that annuity for fifty years, that he had been taken in, done, + ruined. From time to time he went to see the old lady, just as one goes in + July to see when the harvest is likely to begin. She always met him with a + cunning look, and one might have supposed that she was congratulating + herself on the trick she had played him. Seeing how well and hearty she + seemed he very soon got into his buggy again, growling to himself: + </p> + <p> + “Will you never die, you old hag?” + </p> + <p> + He did not know what to do, and he felt inclined to strangle her when he + saw her. He hated her with a ferocious, cunning hatred, the hatred of a + peasant who has been robbed, and began to cast about for some means of + getting rid of her. + </p> + <p> + One day he came to see her again, rubbing his hands as he did the first + time he proposed the bargain, and, after having chatted for a few minutes, + he said: + </p> + <p> + “Why do you never come and have a bit of dinner at my place when you + are in Spreville? The people are talking about it, and saying we are not + on friendly terms, and that pains me. You know it will cost you nothing if + you come, for I don't look at the price of a dinner. Come whenever you + feel inclined; I shall be very glad to see you.” + </p> + <p> + Old Mother Magloire did not need to be asked twice, and the next day but + one, as she had to go to the town in any case, it being market day, she + let her man drive her to Chicot's place, where the buggy was put in the + barn while she went into the house to get her dinner. + </p> + <p> + The innkeeper was delighted and treated her like a lady, giving her roast + fowl, black pudding, leg of mutton and bacon and cabbage. But she ate next + to nothing. She had always been a small eater, and had generally lived on + a little soup and a crust of bread and butter. + </p> + <p> + Chicot was disappointed and pressed her to eat more, but she refused, and + she would drink little, and declined coffee, so he asked her: + </p> + <p> + “But surely you will take a little drop of brandy or liqueur?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, as to that, I don't know that I will refuse.” Whereupon + he shouted out: + </p> + <p> + “Rosalie, bring the superfine brandy—the special—you + know.” + </p> + <p> + The servant appeared, carrying a long bottle ornamented with a paper + vine-leaf, and he filled two liqueur glasses. + </p> + <p> + “Just try that; you will find it first rate.” + </p> + <p> + The good woman drank it slowly in sips, so as to make the pleasure last + all the longer, and when she had finished her glass, she said: + </p> + <p> + “Yes, that is first rate!” + </p> + <p> + Almost before she had said it Chicot had poured her out another glassful. + She wished to refuse, but it was too late, and she drank it very slowly, + as she had done the first, and he asked her to have a third. She objected, + but he persisted. + </p> + <p> + “It is as mild as milk, you know; I can drink ten or a dozen glasses + without any ill effects; it goes down like sugar and does not go to the + head; one would think that it evaporated on the tongue: It is the most + wholesome thing you can drink.” + </p> + <p> + She took it, for she really enjoyed it, but she left half the glass. + </p> + <p> + Then Chicot, in an excess of generosity, said: + </p> + <p> + “Look here, as it is so much to your taste, I will give you a small + keg of it, just to show that you and I are still excellent friends.” + So she took one away with her, feeling slightly overcome by the effects of + what she had drunk. + </p> + <p> + The next day the innkeeper drove into her yard and took a little + iron-hooped keg out of his gig. He insisted on her tasting the contents, + to make sure it was the same delicious article, and, when they had each of + them drunk three more glasses, he said as he was going away: + </p> + <p> + “Well, you know when it is all gone there is more left; don't be + modest, for I shall not mind. The sooner it is finished the better pleased + I shall be.” + </p> + <p> + Four days later he came again. The old woman was outside her door cutting + up the bread for her soup. + </p> + <p> + He went up to her and put his face close to hers, so that he might smell + her breath; and when he smelt the alcohol he felt pleased. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose you will give me a glass of the Special?” he said. + And they had three glasses each. + </p> + <p> + Soon, however, it began to be whispered abroad that Mother Magloire was in + the habit of getting drunk all by herself. She was picked up in her + kitchen, then in her yard, then in the roads in the neighborhood, and she + was often brought home like a log. + </p> + <p> + The innkeeper did not go near her any more, and, when people spoke to him + about her, he used to say, putting on a distressed look: + </p> + <p> + “It is a great pity that she should have taken to drink at her age, + but when people get old there is no remedy. It will be the death of her in + the long run.” + </p> + <p> + And it certainly was the death of her. She died the next winter. About + Christmas time she fell down, unconscious, in the snow, and was found dead + the next morning. + </p> + <p> + And when Chicot came in for the farm, he said: + </p> + <p> + “It was very stupid of her; if she had not taken to drink she would + probably have lived ten years longer.” + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0199"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + BOITELLE + </h2> + <p> + Father Boitelle (Antoine) made a specialty of undertaking dirty jobs all + through the countryside. Whenever there was a ditch or a cesspool to be + cleaned out, a dunghill removed, a sewer cleansed, or any dirt hole + whatever, he way always employed to do it. + </p> + <p> + He would come with the instruments of his trade, his sabots covered with + dirt, and set to work, complaining incessantly about his occupation. When + people asked him then why he did this loathsome work, he would reply + resignedly: + </p> + <p> + “Faith, 'tis for my children, whom I must support. This brings me in + more than anything else.” + </p> + <p> + He had, indeed, fourteen children. If any one asked him what had become of + them, he would say with an air of indifference: + </p> + <p> + “There are only eight of them left in the house. One is out at + service and five are married.” + </p> + <p> + When the questioner wanted to know whether they were well married, he + replied vivaciously: + </p> + <p> + “I did not oppose them. I opposed them in nothing. They married just + as they pleased. We shouldn't go against people's likings, it turns out + badly. I am a night scavenger because my parents went against my likings. + But for that I would have become a workman like the others.” + </p> + <p> + Here is the way his parents had thwarted him in his likings: + </p> + <p> + He was at the time a soldier stationed at Havre, not more stupid than + another, or sharper either, a rather simple fellow, however. When he was + not on duty, his greatest pleasure was to walk along the quay, where the + bird dealers congregate. Sometimes alone, sometimes with a soldier from + his own part of the country, he would slowly saunter along by cages + containing parrots with green backs and yellow heads from the banks of the + Amazon, or parrots with gray backs and red heads from Senegal, or enormous + macaws, which look like birds reared in hot-houses, with their flower-like + feathers, their plumes and their tufts. Parrots of every size, who seem + painted with minute care by the miniaturist, God Almighty, and the little + birds, all the smaller birds hopped about, yellow, blue and variegated, + mingling their cries with the noise of the quay; and adding to the din + caused by unloading the vessels, as well as by passengers and vehicles, a + violent clamor, loud, shrill and deafening, as if from some distant forest + of monsters. + </p> + <p> + Boitelle would pause, with wondering eyes, wide-open mouth, laughing and + enraptured, showing his teeth to the captive cockatoos, who kept nodding + their white or yellow topknots toward the glaring red of his breeches and + the copper buckle of his belt. When he found a bird that could talk he put + questions to it, and if it happened at the time to be disposed to reply + and to hold a conversation with him he would carry away enough amusement + to last him till evening. He also found heaps of amusement in looking at + the monkeys, and could conceive no greater luxury for a rich man than to + own these animals as one owns cats and dogs. This kind of taste for the + exotic he had in his blood, as people have a taste for the chase, or for + medicine, or for the priesthood. He could not help returning to the quay + every time the gates of the barracks opened, drawn toward it by an + irresistible longing. + </p> + <p> + On one occasion, having stopped almost in ecstasy before an enormous + macaw, which was swelling out its plumes, bending forward and bridling up + again as if making the court curtseys of parrot-land, he saw the door of a + little cafe adjoining the bird dealer's shop open, and a young negress + appeared, wearing on her head a red silk handkerchief. She was sweeping + into the street the corks and sand of the establishment. + </p> + <p> + Boitelle's attention was soon divided between the bird and the woman, and + he really could not tell which of these two beings he contemplated with + the greater astonishment and delight. + </p> + <p> + The negress, having swept the rubbish into the street, raised her eyes, + and, in her turn, was dazzled by the soldier's uniform. There she stood + facing him with her broom in her hands as if she were bringing him a + rifle, while the macaw continued bowing. But at the end of a few seconds + the soldier began to feel embarrassed at this attention, and he walked + away quietly so as not to look as if he were beating a retreat. + </p> + <p> + But he came back. Almost every day he passed before the Cafe des Colonies, + and often he could distinguish through the window the figure of the little + black-skinned maid serving “bocks” or glasses of brandy to the + sailors of the port. Frequently, too, she would come out to the door on + seeing him; soon, without even having exchanged a word, they smiled at one + another like acquaintances; and Boitelle felt his heart touched when he + suddenly saw, glittering between the dark lips of the girl, a shining row + of white teeth. At length, one day he ventured to enter, and was quite + surprised to find that she could speak French like every one else. The + bottle of lemonade, of which she was good enough to accept a glassful, + remained in the soldier's recollection memorably delicious, and it became + a custom with him to come and absorb in this little tavern on the quay all + the agreeable drinks which he could afford. + </p> + <p> + For him it was a treat, a happiness, on which his thoughts dwelt + constantly, to watch the black hand of the little maid pouring something + into his glass while her teeth laughed more than her eyes. At the end of + two months they became fast friends, and Boitelle, after his first + astonishment at discovering that this negress had as good principles as + honest French girls, that she exhibited a regard for economy, industry, + religion and good conduct, loved her more on that account, and was so + charmed with her that he wanted to marry her. + </p> + <p> + He told her his intentions, which made her dance with joy. She had also a + little money, left her by a female oyster dealer, who had picked her up + when she had been left on the quay at Havre by an American captain. This + captain had found her, when she was only about six years old, lying on + bales of cotton in the hold of his ship, some hours after his departure + from New York. On his arrival in Havre he abandoned to the care of this + compassionate oyster dealer the little black creature, who had been hidden + on board his vessel, he knew not why or by whom. + </p> + <p> + The oyster woman having died, the young negress became a servant at the + Colonial Tavern. + </p> + <p> + Antoine Boitelle added: “This will be all right if my parents don't + oppose it. I will never go against them, you understand, never! I'm going + to say a word or two to them the first time I go back to the country.” + </p> + <p> + On the following week, in fact, having obtained twenty-four hours' leave, + he went to see his family, who cultivated a little farm at Tourteville, + near Yvetot. + </p> + <p> + He waited till the meal was finished, the hour when the coffee baptized + with brandy makes people more open-hearted, before informing his parents + that he had found a girl who satisfied his tastes, all his tastes, so + completely that there could not exist any other in all the world so + perfectly suited to him. + </p> + <p> + The old people, on hearing this, immediately assumed a cautious manner and + wanted explanations. He had concealed nothing from them except the color + of her skin. + </p> + <p> + She was a servant, without much means, but strong, thrifty, clean, + well-conducted and sensible. All these things were better than money would + be in the hands of a bad housewife. Moreover, she had a few sous, left her + by a woman who had reared her, a good number of sous, almost a little + dowry, fifteen hundred francs in the savings bank. The old people, + persuaded by his talk, and relying also on their own judgment, were + gradually weakening, when he came to the delicate point. Laughing in + rather a constrained fashion, he said: + </p> + <p> + “There's only one thing you may not like. She is not a white slip.” + </p> + <p> + They did not understand, and he had to explain at some length and very + cautiously, to avoid shocking them, that she belonged to the dusky race of + which they had only seen samples in pictures at Epinal. Then they became + restless, perplexed, alarmed, as if he had proposed a union with the + devil. + </p> + <p> + The mother said: “Black? How much of her is black? Is the whole of + her?” + </p> + <p> + He replied: “Certainly. Everywhere, just as you are white + everywhere.” + </p> + <p> + The father interposed: “Black? Is it as black as the pot?” + </p> + <p> + The son answered: “Perhaps a little less than that. She is black, + but not disgustingly black. The cure's cassock is black, but it is not + uglier than a surplice which is white.” + </p> + <p> + The father said: “Are there more black people besides her in her + country?” + </p> + <p> + And the son, with an air of conviction, exclaimed: “Certainly!” + </p> + <p> + But the old man shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “That must be unpleasant.” + </p> + <p> + And the son: + </p> + <p> + “It isn't more disagreeable than anything else when you get + accustomed to it.” + </p> + <p> + The mother asked: + </p> + <p> + “It doesn't soil the underwear more than other skins, this black + skin?” + </p> + <p> + “Not more than your own, as it is her proper color.” + </p> + <p> + Then, after many other questions, it was agreed that the parents should + see this girl before coming; to any decision, and that the young fellow, + whose, term of military service would be over in a month, should bring her + to the house in order that they might examine her and decide by talking + the matter over whether or not she was too dark to enter the Boitelle + family. + </p> + <p> + Antoine accordingly announced that on Sunday, the 22d of May, the day of + his discharge, he would start for Tourteville with his sweetheart. + </p> + <p> + She had put on, for this journey to the house of her lover's parents, her + most beautiful and most gaudy clothes, in which yellow, red and blue were + the prevailing colors, so that she looked as if she were adorned for a + national festival. + </p> + <p> + At the terminus, as they were leaving Havre, people stared at her, and + Boitelle was proud of giving his arm to a person who commanded so much + attention. Then, in the third-class carriage, in which she took a seat by + his side, she aroused so much astonishment among the country folks that + the people in the adjoining compartments stood up on their benches to look + at her over the wooden partition which divides the compartments. A child, + at sight of her, began to cry with terror, another concealed his face in + his mother's apron. Everything went off well, however, up to their arrival + at their destination. But when the train slackened its rate of motion as + they drew near Yvetot, Antoine felt ill at ease, as he would have done at + a review when; he did not know his drill practice. Then, as he; leaned his + head out, he recognized in the distance: his father, holding the bridle of + the horse harnessed to a carryall, and his mother, who had come forward to + the grating, behind which stood those who were expecting friends. + </p> + <p> + He alighted first, gave his hand to his sweetheart, and holding himself + erect, as if he were escorting a general, he went to meet his family. + </p> + <p> + The mother, on seeing this black lady in variegated costume in her son's + company, remained so stupefied that she could not open her mouth; and the + father found it hard to hold the horse, which the engine or the negress + caused to rear continuously. But Antoine, suddenly filled with unmixed joy + at seeing once more the old people, rushed forward with open arms, + embraced his mother, embraced his father, in spite of the nag's fright, + and then turning toward his companion, at whom the passengers on the + platform stopped to stare with amazement, he proceeded to explain: + </p> + <p> + “Here she is! I told you that, at first sight, she is not + attractive; but as soon as you know her, I can assure you there's not a + better sort in the whole world. Say good-morning to her so that she may + not feel badly.” + </p> + <p> + Thereupon Mere Boitelle, almost frightened out of her wits, made a sort of + curtsy, while the father took off his cap, murmuring: + </p> + <p> + “I wish you good luck!” + </p> + <p> + Then, without further delay, they climbed into the carryall, the two women + at the back, on seats which made them jump up and down as the vehicle went + jolting along the road, and the two men in front on the front seat. + </p> + <p> + Nobody spoke. Antoine, ill at ease, whistled a barrack-room air; his + father whipped the nag; and his mother, from where she sat in the corner, + kept casting sly glances at the negress, whose forehead and cheekbones + shone in the sunlight like well-polished shoes. + </p> + <p> + Wishing to break the ice, Antoine turned round. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said he, “we don't seem inclined to talk.” + </p> + <p> + “We must have time,” replied the old woman. + </p> + <p> + He went on: + </p> + <p> + “Come! Tell us the little story about that hen of yours that laid + eight eggs.” + </p> + <p> + It was a funny anecdote of long standing in the family. But, as his mother + still remained silent, paralyzed by her emotion, he undertook himself to + tell the story, laughing as he did so at the memorable incident. The + father, who knew it by heart brightened at the opening words of the + narrative; his wife soon followed his example; and the negress herself, + when he reached the drollest part of it, suddenly gave vent to a laugh, + such a loud, rolling torrent of laughter that the horse, becoming excited, + broke into a gallop for a while. + </p> + <p> + This served to cement their acquaintance. They all began to chat. + </p> + <p> + They had scarcely reached the house and had all alighted, when Antoine + conducted his sweetheart to a room, so that she might take off her dress, + to avoid staining it, as she was going to prepare a nice dish, intended to + win the old people's affections through their stomachs. He drew his + parents outside the house, and, with beating heart, asked: + </p> + <p> + “Well, what do you say now?” + </p> + <p> + The father said nothing. The mother, less timid, exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “She is too black. No, indeed, this is too much for me. It turns my + blood.” + </p> + <p> + “You will get used to it,” said Antoine. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps so, but not at first.” + </p> + <p> + They went into the house, where the good woman was somewhat affected at + the spectacle of the negress engaged in cooking. She at once proceeded to + assist her, with petticoats tucked up, active in spite of her age. + </p> + <p> + The meal was an excellent one, very long, very enjoyable. When they were + taking a turn after dinner, Antoine took his father aside. + </p> + <p> + “Well, dad, what do you say about it?” + </p> + <p> + The peasant took care never to compromise himself. + </p> + <p> + “I have no opinion about it. Ask your mother.” + </p> + <p> + So Antoine went back to his mother, and, detaining her behind the rest, + said: + </p> + <p> + “Well, mother, what do you think of her?” + </p> + <p> + “My poor lad, she is really too black. If she were only a little + less black, I would not go against you, but this is too much. One would + think it was Satan!” + </p> + <p> + He did not press her, knowing how obstinate the old woman had always been, + but he felt a tempest of disappointment sweeping over his heart. He was + turning over in his mind what he ought to do, what plan he could devise, + surprised, moreover, that she had not conquered them already as she had + captivated himself. And they, all four, walked along through the wheat + fields, having gradually relapsed into silence. Whenever they passed a + fence they saw a countryman sitting on the stile, and a group of brats + climbed up to stare at them, and every one rushed out into the road to see + the “black” whore young Boitelle had brought home with him. At + a distance they noticed people scampering across the fields just as when + the drum beats to draw public attention to some living phenomenon. Pere + and Mere Boitelle, alarmed at this curiosity, which was exhibited + everywhere through the country at their approach, quickened their pace, + walking side by side, and leaving their son far behind. His dark companion + asked what his parents thought of her. + </p> + <p> + He hesitatingly replied that they had not yet made up their minds. + </p> + <p> + But on the village green people rushed out of all the houses in a flutter + of excitement; and, at the sight of the gathering crowd, old Boitelle took + to his heels, and regained his abode, while Antoine; swelling with rage, + his sweetheart on his arm, advanced majestically under the staring eyes, + which opened wide in amazement. + </p> + <p> + He understood that it was at an end, and there was no hope for him, that + he could not marry his negress. She also understood it; and as they drew + near the farmhouse they both began to weep. As soon as they had got back + to the house, she once more took off her dress to aid the mother in the + household duties, and followed her everywhere, to the dairy, to the + stable, to the hen house, taking on herself the hardest part of the work, + repeating always: “Let me do it, Madame Boitelle,” so that, + when night came on, the old woman, touched but inexorable, said to her + son: “She is a good girl, all the same. It's a pity she is so black; + but indeed she is too black. I could not get used to it. She must go back + again. She is too, too black!” + </p> + <p> + And young Boitelle said to his sweetheart: + </p> + <p> + “She will not consent. She thinks you are too black. You must go + back again. I will go with you to the train. No matter—don't fret. I + am going to talk to them after you have started.” + </p> + <p> + He then took her to the railway station, still cheering her with hope, + and, when he had kissed her, he put her into the train, which he watched + as it passed out of sight, his eyes swollen with tears. + </p> + <p> + In vain did he appeal to the old people. They would never give their + consent. + </p> + <p> + And when he had told this story, which was known all over the country, + Antoine Boitelle would always add: + </p> + <p> + “From that time forward I have had no heart for anything—for + anything at all. No trade suited me any longer, and so I became what I am—a + night scavenger.” + </p> + <p> + People would say to him: + </p> + <p> + “Yet you got married.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and I can't say that my wife didn't please me, seeing that I + have fourteen children; but she is not the other one, oh, no—certainly + not! The other one, mark you, my negress, she had only to give me one + glance, and I felt as if I were in Heaven.” + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0200"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + A WIDOW + </h2> + <p> + This story was told during the hunting season at the Chateau Baneville. + The autumn had been rainy and sad. The red leaves, instead of rustling + under the feet, were rotting under the heavy downfalls. + </p> + <p> + The forest was as damp as it could be. From it came an odor of must, of + rain, of soaked grass and wet earth; and the sportsmen, their backs + hunched under the downpour, mournful dogs, with tails between their legs + and hairs sticking to their sides, and the young women, with their clothes + drenched, returned every evening, tired in body and in mind. + </p> + <p> + After dinner, in the large drawing-room, everybody played lotto, without + enjoyment, while the wind whistled madly around the house. Then they tried + telling stories like those they read in books, but no one was able to + invent anything amusing. The hunters told tales of wonderful shots and of + the butchery of rabbits; and the women racked their brains for ideas + without revealing the imagination of Scheherezade. They were about to give + up this diversion when a young woman, who was idly caressing the hand of + an old maiden aunt, noticed a little ring made of blond hair, which she + had often seen, without paying any attention to it. + </p> + <p> + She fingered it gently and asked, “Auntie, what is this ring? It + looks as if it were made from the hair of a child.” + </p> + <p> + The old lady blushed, grew pale, then answered in a trembling voice: + “It is sad, so sad that I never wish to speak of it. All the + unhappiness of my life comes from that. I was very young then, and the + memory has remained so painful that I weep every time I think of it.” + </p> + <p> + Immediately everybody wished to know the story, but the old lady refused + to tell it. Finally, after they had coaxed her for a long time, she + yielded. Here is the story: + </p> + <p> + “You have often heard me speak of the Santeze family, now extinct. I + knew the last three male members of this family. They all died in the same + manner; this hair belongs to the last one. He was thirteen when he killed + himself for me. That seems strange to you, doesn't it? + </p> + <p> + “Oh! it was a strange family—mad, if you will, but a charming + madness, the madness of love. From father to son, all had violent passions + which filled their whole being, which impelled them to do wild things, + drove them to frantic enthusiasm, even to crime. This was born in them, + just as burning devotion is in certain souls. Trappers have not the same + nature as minions of the drawing-room. There was a saying: 'As passionate + as a Santeze.' This could be noticed by looking at them. They all had wavy + hair, falling over their brows, curly beards and large eyes whose glance + pierced and moved one, though one could not say why. + </p> + <p> + “The grandfather of the owner of this hair, of whom it is the last + souvenir, after many adventures, duels and elopements, at about sixty-five + fell madly in love with his farmer's daughter. I knew them both. She was + blond, pale, distinguished-looking, with a slow manner of talking, a quiet + voice and a look so gentle that one might have taken her for a Madonna. + The old nobleman took her to his home and was soon so captivated with her + that he could not live without her for a minute. His daughter and + daughter-in-law, who lived in the chateau, found this perfectly natural, + love was such a tradition in the family. Nothing in regard to a passion + surprised them, and if one spoke before them of parted lovers, even of + vengeance after treachery, both said in the same sad tone: 'Oh, how he + must have suffered to come to that point!' That was all. They grew sad + over tragedies of love, but never indignant, even when they were criminal. + </p> + <p> + “Now, one day a young man named Monsieur de Gradelle, who had been + invited for the shooting, eloped with the young girl. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur de Santeze remained calm as if nothing had happened, but + one morning he was found hanging in the kennels, among his dogs. + </p> + <p> + “His son died in the same manner in a hotel in Paris during a + journey which he made there in 1841, after being deceived by a singer from + the opera. + </p> + <p> + “He left a twelve-year-old child and a widow, my mother's sister. + She came to my father's house with the boy, while we were living at + Bertillon. I was then seventeen. + </p> + <p> + “You have no idea how wonderful and precocious this Santeze child + was. One might have thought that all the tenderness and exaltation of the + whole race had been stored up in this last one. He was always dreaming and + walking about alone in a great alley of elms leading from the chateau to + the forest. I watched from my window this sentimental boy, who walked with + thoughtful steps, his hands behind his back, his head bent, and at times + stopping to raise his eyes as if he could see and understand things that + were not comprehensible at his age. + </p> + <p> + “Often, after dinner on clear evenings, he would say to me: 'Let us + go outside and dream, cousin.' And we would go outside together in the + park. He would stop quickly before a clearing where the white vapor of the + moon lights the woods, and he would press my hand, saying: 'Look! look! + but you don't understand me; I feel it. If you understood me, we should be + happy. One must love to know! I would laugh and then kiss this child, who + loved me madly. + </p> + <p> + “Often, after dinner, he would sit on my mother's knees. 'Come, + auntie,' he would say, 'tell me some love-stories.' And my mother, as a + joke, would tell him all the old legends of the family, all the passionate + adventures of his forefathers, for thousands of them were current, some + true and some false. It was their reputation for love and gallantry which + was the ruin of every one of these men; they gloried in it and then + thought that they had to live up to the renown of their house. + </p> + <p> + “The little fellow became exalted by these tender or terrible + stories, and at times he would clap his hands, crying: 'I, too, I, too, + know how to love, better than all of them!' + </p> + <p> + “Then, he began to court me in a timid and tender manner, at which + every one laughed, it was, so amusing. Every morning I had some flowers + picked by him, and every evening before going to his room he would kiss my + hand and murmur: 'I love you!' + </p> + <p> + “I was guilty, very guilty, and I grieved continually about it, and + I have been doing penance all my life; I have remained an old maid—or, + rather, I have lived as a widowed fiancee, his widow. + </p> + <p> + “I was amused at this childish tenderness, and I even encouraged + him. I was coquettish, as charming as with a man, alternately caressing + and severe. I maddened this child. It was a game for me and a joyous + diversion for his mother and mine. He was twelve! think of it! Who would + have taken this atom's passion seriously? I kissed him as often as he + wished; I even wrote him little notes, which were read by our respective + mothers; and he answered me by passionate letters, which I have kept. + Judging himself as a man, he thought that our loving intimacy was secret. + We had forgotten that he was a Santeze. + </p> + <p> + “This lasted for about a year. One evening in the park he fell at my + feet and, as he madly kissed the hem of my dress, he kept repeating: 'I + love you! I love you! I love you! If ever you deceive me, if ever you + leave me for another, I'll do as my father did.' And he added in a hoarse + voice, which gave me a shiver: 'You know what he did!' + </p> + <p> + “I stood there astonished. He arose, and standing on the tips of his + toes in order to reach my ear, for I was taller than he, he pronounced my + first name: 'Genevieve!' in such a gentle, sweet, tender tone that I + trembled all over. I stammered: 'Let us return! let us return!' He said no + more and followed me; but as we were going up the steps of the porch, he + stopped me, saying: 'You know, if ever you leave me, I'll kill myself.' + </p> + <p> + “This time I understood that I had gone too far, and I became quite + reserved. One day, as he was reproaching me for this, I answered: 'You are + now too old for jesting and too young for serious love. I'll wait.' + </p> + <p> + “I thought that this would end the matter. In the autumn he was sent + to a boarding-school. When he returned the following summer I was engaged + to be married. He understood immediately, and for a week he became so + pensive that I was quite anxious. + </p> + <p> + “On the morning of the ninth day I saw a little paper under my door + as I got up. I seized it, opened it and read: 'You have deserted me and + you know what I said. It is death to which you have condemned me. As I do + not wish to be found by another than you, come to the park just where I + told you last year that I loved you and look in the air.' + </p> + <p> + “I thought that I should go mad. I dressed as quickly as I could and + ran wildly to the place that he had mentioned. His little cap was on the + ground in the mud. It had been raining all night. I raised my eyes and saw + something swinging among the leaves, for the wind was blowing a gale. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know what I did after that. I must have screamed at first, + then fainted and fallen, and finally have run to the chateau. The next + thing that I remember I was in bed, with my mother sitting beside me. + </p> + <p> + “I thought that I had dreamed all this in a frightful nightmare. I + stammered: 'And what of him, what of him, Gontran?' There was no answer. + It was true! + </p> + <p> + “I did not dare see him again, but I asked for a lock of his blond + hair. Here—here it is!” + </p> + <p> + And the old maid stretched out her trembling hand in a despairing gesture. + Then she blew her nose several times, wiped her eyes and continued: + </p> + <p> + “I broke off my marriage—without saying why. And I—I + always have remained the—the widow of this thirteen-year-old boy.” + Then her head fell on her breast and she wept for a long time. + </p> + <p> + As the guests were retiring for the night a large man, whose quiet she had + disturbed, whispered in his neighbor's ear: “Isn't it unfortunate + to, be so sentimental?” + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0201"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + THE ENGLISHMAN OF ETRETAT + </h2> + <p> + A great English poet has just crossed over to France in order to greet + Victor Hugo. All the newspapers are full of his name and he is the great + topic of conversation in all drawing-rooms. Fifteen years ago I had + occasion several times to meet Algernon Charles Swinburne. I will attempt + to show him just as I saw him and to give an idea of the strange + impression he made on me, which will remain with me throughout time. + </p> + <p> + I believe it was in 1867 or in 1868 that an unknown young Englishman came + to Etretat and bought a little hut hidden under great trees. It was said + that he lived there, always alone, in a strange manner; and he aroused the + inimical surprise of the natives, for the inhabitants were sullen and + foolishly malicious, as they always are in little towns. + </p> + <p> + They declared that this whimsical Englishman ate nothing but boiled, + roasted or stewed monkey; that he would see no one; that he talked to + himself hours at a time and many other surprising things that made people + think that he was different from other men. They were surprised that he + should live alone with a monkey. Had it been a cat or a dog they would + have said nothing. But a monkey! Was that not frightful? What savage + tastes the man must have! + </p> + <p> + I knew this young man only from seeing him in the streets. He was short, + plump, without being fat, mild-looking, and he wore a little blond + mustache, which was almost invisible. + </p> + <p> + Chance brought us together. This savage had amiable and pleasing manners, + but he was one of those strange Englishmen that one meets here and there + throughout the world. + </p> + <p> + Endowed with remarkable intelligence, he seemed to live in a fantastic + dream, as Edgar Poe must have lived. He had translated into English a + volume of strange Icelandic legends, which I ardently desired to see + translated into French. He loved the supernatural, the dismal and + grewsome, but he spoke of the most marvellous things with a calmness that + was typically English, to which his gentle and quiet voice gave a + semblance of reality that was maddening. + </p> + <p> + Full of a haughty disdain for the world, with its conventions, prejudices + and code of morality, he had nailed to his house a name that was boldly + impudent. The keeper of a lonely inn who should write on his door: “Travellers + murdered here!” could not make a more sinister jest. I never had + entered his dwelling, when one day I received an invitation to luncheon, + following an accident that had occurred to one of his friends, who had + been almost drowned and whom I had attempted to rescue. + </p> + <p> + Although I was unable to reach the man until he had already been rescued, + I received the hearty thanks of the two Englishmen, and the following day + I called upon them. + </p> + <p> + The friend was a man about thirty years old. He bore an enormous head on a + child's body—a body without chest or shoulders. An immense forehead, + which seemed to have engulfed the rest of the man, expanded like a dome + above a thin face which ended in a little pointed beard. Two sharp eyes + and a peculiar mouth gave one the impression of the head of a reptile, + while the magnificent brow suggested a genius. + </p> + <p> + A nervous twitching shook this peculiar being, who walked, moved, acted by + jerks like a broken spring. + </p> + <p> + This was Algernon Charles Swinburne, son of an English admiral and + grandson, on the maternal side, of the Earl of Ashburnham. + </p> + <p> + He strange countenance was transfigured when he spoke. I have seldom seen + a man more impressive, more eloquent, incisive or charming in + conversation. His rapid, clear, piercing and fantastic imagination seemed + to creep into his voice and to lend life to his words. His brusque + gestures enlivened his speech, which penetrated one like a dagger, and he + had bursts of thought, just as lighthouses throw out flashes of fire, + great, genial lights that seemed to illuminate a whole world of ideas. + </p> + <p> + The home of the two friends was pretty and by no means commonplace. + Everywhere were paintings, some superb, some strange, representing + different conceptions of insanity. Unless I am mistaken, there was a + water-color which represented the head of a dead man floating in a + rose-colored shell on a boundless ocean, under a moon with a human face. + </p> + <p> + Here and there I came across bones. I clearly remember a flayed hand on + which was hanging some dried skin and black muscles, and on the snow-white + bones could be seen the traces of dried blood. + </p> + <p> + The food was a riddle which I could not solve. Was it good? Was it bad? I + could not say. Some roast monkey took away all desire to make a steady + diet of this animal, and the great monkey who roamed about among us at + large and playfully pushed his head into my glass when I wished to drink + cured me of any desire I might have to take one of his brothers as a + companion for the rest of my days. + </p> + <p> + As for the two men, they gave me the impression of two strange, original, + remarkable minds, belonging to that peculiar race of talented madmen from + among whom have arisen Poe, Hoffmann and many others. + </p> + <p> + If genius is, as is commonly believed, a sort of aberration of great + minds, then Algernon Charles Swinburne is undoubtedly a genius. + </p> + <p> + Great minds that are healthy are never considered geniuses, while this + sublime qualification is lavished on brains that are often inferior but + are slightly touched by madness. + </p> + <p> + At any rate, this poet remains one of the first of his time, through his + originality and polished form. He is an exalted lyrical singer who seldom + bothers about the good and humble truth, which French poets are now + seeking so persistently and patiently. He strives to set down dreams, + subtle thoughts, sometimes great, sometimes visibly forced, but sometimes + magnificent. + </p> + <p> + Two years later I found the house closed and its tenants gone. The + furniture was being sold. In memory of them I bought the hideous flayed + hand. On the grass an enormous square block of granite bore this simple + word: “Nip.” Above this a hollow stone offered water to the + birds. It was the grave of the monkey, who had been hanged by a young, + vindictive negro servant. It was said that this violent domestic had been + forced to flee at the point of his exasperated master's revolver. After + wandering about without home or food for several days, he returned and + began to peddle barley-sugar in the streets. He was expelled from the + country after he had almost strangled a displeased customer. + </p> + <p> + The world would be gayer if one could often meet homes like that. + </p> +<div class='pre'> + This story appeared in the “Gaulois,” November 29, 1882. It was the + original sketch for the introductory study of Swinburne, written by + Maupassant for the French translation by Gabriel Mourey of “Poems + and Ballads.” + </div> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0202"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + MAGNETISM + </h2> + <p> + It was a men's dinner party, and they were sitting over their cigars and + brandy and discussing magnetism. Donato's tricks and Charcot's + experiments. Presently, the sceptical, easy-going men, who cared nothing + for religion of any sort, began telling stories of strange occurrences, + incredible things which, nevertheless, had really occurred, so they said, + falling back into superstitious beliefs, clinging to these last remnants + of the marvellous, becoming devotees of this mystery of magnetism, + defending it in the name of science. There was only one person who smiled, + a vigorous young fellow, a great ladies' man who was so incredulous that + he would not even enter upon a discussion of such matters. + </p> + <p> + He repeated with a sneer: + </p> + <p> + “Humbug! humbug! humbug! We need not discuss Donato, who is merely a + very smart juggler. As for M. Charcot, who is said to be a remarkable man + of science, he produces on me the effect of those story-tellers of the + school of Edgar Poe, who end by going mad through constantly reflecting on + queer cases of insanity. He has authenticated some cases of unexplained + and inexplicable nervous phenomena; he makes his way into that unknown + region which men are exploring every day, and unable always to understand + what he sees, he recalls, perhaps, the ecclesiastical interpretation of + these mysteries. I should like to hear what he says himself.” + </p> + <p> + The words of the unbeliever were listened to with a kind of pity, as if he + had blasphemed in an assembly of monks. + </p> + <p> + One of these gentlemen exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “And yet miracles were performed in olden times.” + </p> + <p> + “I deny it,” replied the other: “Why cannot they be + performed now?” + </p> + <p> + Then, each mentioned some fact, some fantastic presentiment some instance + of souls communicating with each other across space, or some case of the + secret influence of one being over another. They asserted and maintained + that these things had actually occurred, while the sceptic angrily + repeated: + </p> + <p> + “Humbug! humbug! humbug!” + </p> + <p> + At last he rose, threw away his cigar, and with his hands in his pockets, + said: “Well, I also have two stories to tell you, which I will + afterwards explain. Here they are: + </p> + <p> + “In the little village of Etretat, the men, who are all seafaring + folk, go every year to Newfoundland to fish for cod. One night the little + son of one of these fishermen woke up with a start, crying out that his + father was dead. The child was quieted, and again he woke up exclaiming + that his father was drowned. A month later the news came that his father + had, in fact, been swept off the deck of his smack by a billow. The widow + then remembered how her son had woke up and spoken of his father's death. + Everyone said it was a miracle, and the affair caused a great sensation. + The dates were compared, and it was found that the accident and the dream + were almost coincident, whence they concluded that they had happened on + the same night and at the same hour. And there is a mystery of magnetism.” + </p> + <p> + The story-teller stopped suddenly. + </p> + <p> + Thereupon, one of those who had heard him, much affected by the narrative, + asked: + </p> + <p> + “And can you explain this?” + </p> + <p> + “Perfectly, monsieur. I have discovered the secret. The circumstance + surprised me and even perplexed me very much; but you see, I do not + believe on principle. Just as others begin by believing, I begin by + doubting; and when I cannot understand, I continue to deny that there can + be any telepathic communication between souls; certain that my own + intelligence will be able to explain it. Well, I kept on inquiring into + the matter, and by dint of questioning all the wives of the absent seamen, + I was convinced that not a week passed without one of them, or one of + their children dreaming and declaring when they woke up that the father + was drowned. The horrible and continual fear of this accident makes them + always talk about it. Now, if one of these frequent predictions coincides, + by a very simple chance, with the death of the person referred to, people + at once declare it to be a miracle; for they suddenly lose sight of all + the other predictions of misfortune that have remained unfulfilled. I have + myself known fifty cases where the persons who made the prediction forgot + all about it a week afterwards. But, if, then one happens to die, then + the recollection of the thing is immediately revived, and people are ready + to believe in the intervention of God, according to some, and magnetism, + according to others.” + </p> + <p> + One of the smokers remarked: + </p> + <p> + “What you say is right enough; but what about your second story?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! my second story is a very delicate matter to relate. It + happened to myself, and so I don't place any great value on my own view of + the matter. An interested party can never give an impartial opinion. + However, here it is: + </p> + <p> + “Among my acquaintances was a young woman on whom I had never + bestowed a thought, whom I had never even looked at attentively, never + taken any notice of. + </p> + <p> + “I classed her among the women of no importance, though she was not + bad-looking; she appeared, in fact, to possess eyes, a nose, a mouth, some + sort of hair—just a colorless type of countenance. She was one of + those beings who awaken only a chance, passing thought, but no special + interest, no desire. + </p> + <p> + “Well, one night, as I was writing some letters by my fireside + before going to bed, I was conscious, in the midst of that train of + sensuous visions that sometimes pass through one's brain in moments of + idle reverie, of a kind of slight influence, passing over me, a little + flutter of the heart, and immediately, without any cause, without any + logical connection of thought, I saw distinctly, as if I were touching + her, saw from head to foot, and disrobed, this young woman to whom I had + never given more than three seconds' thought at a time. I suddenly + discovered in her a number of qualities which I had never before observed, + a sweet charm, a languorous fascination; she awakened in me that sort of + restless emotion that causes one to pursue a woman. But I did not think of + her long. I went to bed and was soon asleep. And I dreamed. + </p> + <p> + “You have all had these strange dreams which make you overcome the + impossible, which open to you double-locked doors, unexpected joys, + tightly folded arms? + </p> + <p> + “Which of us in these troubled, excising, breathless slumbers, has + not held, clasped, embraced with rapture, the woman who occupied his + thoughts? And have you ever noticed what superhuman delight these happy + dreams give us? Into what mad intoxication they cast you! with what + passionate spasms they shake you! and with what infinite, caressing, + penetrating tenderness they fill your heart for her whom you hold clasped + in your arms in that adorable illusion that is so like reality! + </p> + <p> + “All this I felt with unforgettable violence. This woman was mine, + so much mine that the pleasant warmth of her skin remained in my fingers, + the odor of her skin, in my brain, the taste of her kisses, on my lips, + the sound of her voice lingered in my ears, the touch of her clasp still + clung to me, and the burning charm of her tenderness still gratified my + senses long after the delight but disillusion of my awakening. + </p> + <p> + “And three times that night I had the same dream. + </p> + <p> + “When the day dawned she haunted me, possessed me, filled my senses + to such an extent that I was not one second without thinking of her. + </p> + <p> + “At last, not knowing what to do, I dressed myself and went to call + on her. As I went upstairs to her apartment, I was so overcome by emotion + that I trembled, and my heart beat rapidly. + </p> + <p> + “I entered the apartment. She rose the moment she heard my name + mentioned; and suddenly our eyes met in a peculiar fixed gaze. + </p> + <p> + “I sat down. I stammered out some commonplaces which she seemed not + to hear. I did not know what to say or do. Then, abruptly, clasping my + arms round her, my dream was realized so suddenly that I began to doubt + whether I was really awake. We were friends after this for two years.” + </p> + <p> + “What conclusion do you draw from it?” said a voice. + </p> + <p> + The story-teller seemed to hesitate. + </p> + <p> + “The conclusion I draw from it—well, by Jove, the conclusion + is that it was just a coincidence! And then—who can tell? Perhaps it + was some glance of hers which I had not noticed and which came back that + night to me through one of those mysterious and unconscious —recollections + that often bring before us things ignored by our own consciousness, + unperceived by our minds!” + </p> + <p> + “Call it whatever you like,” said one of his table companions, + when the story was finished; “but if you don't believe in magnetism + after that, my dear boy, you are an ungrateful fellow!” + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0203"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + A FATHER'S CONFESSION + </h2> + <p> + All Veziers-le-Rethel had followed the funeral procession of M. + Badon-Leremince to the grave, and the last words of the funeral oration + pronounced by the delegate of the district remained in the minds of all: + “He was an honest man, at least!” + </p> + <p> + An honest man he had been in all the known acts of his life, in his words, + in his examples, his attitude, his behavior, his enterprises, in the cut + of his beard and the shape of his hats. He never had said a word that did + not set an example, never had given an alms without adding a word of + advice, never had extended his hand without appearing to bestow a + benediction. + </p> + <p> + He left two children, a boy and a girl. His son was counselor general, and + his daughter, having married a lawyer, M. Poirel de la Voulte, moved in + the best society of Veziers. + </p> + <p> + They were inconsolable at the death of their father, for they loved him + sincerely. + </p> + <p> + As soon as the ceremony was over, the son, daughter and son-in-law + returned to the house of mourning, and, shutting themselves in the + library, they opened the will, the seals of which were to be broken by + them alone and only after the coffin had been placed in the ground. This + wish was expressed by a notice on the envelope. + </p> + <p> + M. Poirel de la Voulte tore open the envelope, in his character of a + lawyer used to such operations, and having adjusted his spectacles, he + read in a monotonous voice, made for reading the details of contracts: + </p> +<div class='pre'> + My children, my dear children, I could not sleep the eternal sleep + in peace if I did not make to you from the tomb a confession, the + confession of a crime, remorse for which has ruined my life. Yes, + I committed a crime, a frightful, abominable crime. + + I was twenty-six years old, and I had just been called to the bar in + Paris, and was living the life off young men from the provinces who + are stranded in this town without acquaintances, relatives, or + friends. + + I took a sweetheart. There are beings who cannot live alone. I was + one of those. Solitude fills me with horrible anguish, the solitude + of my room beside my fire in the evening. I feel then as if I were + alone on earth, alone, but surrounded by vague dangers, unknown and + terrible things; and the partition that separates me from my + neighbor, my neighbor whom I do not know, keeps me at as great a + distance from him as the stars that I see through my window. A sort + of fever pervades me, a fever of impatience and of fear, and the + silence of the walls terrifies me. The silence of a room where one + lives alone is so intense and so melancholy. It is not only a silence + of the mind; when a piece of furniture cracks a shudder goes through + you for you expect no noise in this melancholy abode. + + How many times, nervous and timid from this motionless silence, I + have begun to talk, to repeat words without rhyme or reason, only to + make some sound. My voice at those times sounds so strange that I + am afraid of that, too. Is there anything more dreadful than + talking to one's self in an empty house? One's voice sounds like + that of another, an unknown voice talking aimlessly, to no one, into + the empty air, with no ear to listen to it, for one knows before + they escape into the solitude of the room exactly what words will be + uttered. And when they resound lugubriously in the silence, they + seem no more than an echo, the peculiar echo of words whispered by + ones thought. + + My sweetheart was a young girl like other young girls who live in + Paris on wages that are insufficient to keep them. She was gentle, + good, simple. Her parents lived at Poissy. She went to spend + several days with them from time to time. + + For a year I lived quietly with her, fully decided to leave her when + I should find some one whom I liked well enough to marry. I would + make a little provision for this one, for it is an understood thing + in our social set that a woman's love should be paid for, in money + if she is poor, in presents if she is rich. + + But one day she told me she was enceinte. I was thunderstruck, and + saw in a second that my life would be ruined. I saw the fetter that + I should wear until my death, everywhere, in my future family life, + in my old age, forever; the fetter of a woman bound to my life + through a child; the fetter of the child whom I must bring up, watch + over, protect, while keeping myself unknown to him, and keeping him + hidden from the world. + + I was greatly disturbed at this news, and a confused longing, a + criminal desire, surged through my mind; I did not formulate it, but + I felt it in my heart, ready to come to the surface, as if some one + hidden behind a portiere should await the signal to come out. If + some accident might only happen! So many of these little beings die + before they are born! + + Oh! I did not wish my sweetheart to die! The poor girl, I loved + her very much! But I wished, possibly, that the child might die + before I saw it. + + He was born. I set up housekeeping in my little bachelor apartment, + an imitation home, with a horrible child. He looked like all + children; I did not care for him. Fathers, you see, do not show + affection until later. They have not the instinctive and passionate + tenderness of mothers; their affection has to be awakened gradually, + their mind must become attached by bonds formed each day between + beings that live in each other's society. + + A year passed. I now avoided my home, which was too small, where + soiled linen, baby-clothes and stockings the size of gloves were + lying round, where a thousand articles of all descriptions lay on + the furniture, on the arm of an easy-chair, everywhere. I went out + chiefly that I might not hear the child cry, for he cried on the + slightest pretext, when he was bathed, when he was touched, when he + was put to bed, when he was taken up in the morning, incessantly. + + I had made a few acquaintances, and I met at a reception the woman + who was to be your mother. I fell in love with her and became + desirous to marry her. I courted her; I asked her parents' consent + to our marriage and it was granted. + + I found myself in this dilemma: I must either marry this young girl + whom I adored, having a child already, or else tell the truth and + renounce her, and happiness, my future, everything; for her parents, + who were people of rigid principles, would not give her to me if + they knew. + + I passed a month of horrible anguish, of mortal torture, a month + haunted by a thousand frightful thoughts; and I felt developing in + me a hatred toward my son, toward that little morsel of living, + screaming flesh, who blocked my path, interrupted my life, condemned + me to an existence without hope, without all those vague + expectations that make the charm of youth. + + But just then my companion's mother became ill, and I was left alone + with the child. + + It was in December, and the weather was terribly cold. What a + night! + + My companion had just left. I had dined alone in my little + dining-room and I went gently into the room where the little one was + asleep. + + I sat down in an armchair before the fire. The wind was blowing, + making the windows rattle, a dry, frosty wind; and I saw trough the + window the stars shining with that piercing brightness that they + have on frosty nights. + + Then the idea that had obsessed me for a month rose again to the + surface. As soon as I was quiet it came to me and harassed me. It + ate into my mind like a fixed idea, just as cancers must eat into + the flesh. It was there, in my head, in my heart, in my whole body, + it seemed to me; and it swallowed me up as a wild beast might have. + I endeavored to drive it away, to repulse it, to open my mind to + other thoughts, as one opens a window to the fresh morning breeze to + drive out the vitiated air; but I could not drive it from my brain, + not even for a second. I do not know how to express this torture. + It gnawed at my soul, and I felt a frightful pain, a real physical + and moral pain. + + My life was ruined! How could I escape from this situation? How + could I draw back, and how could I confess? + + And I loved the one who was to become your mother with a mad + passion, which this insurmountable obstacle only aggravated. + + A terrible rage was taking possession of me, choking me, a rage that + verged on madness! Surely I was crazy that evening! + + The child was sleeping. I got up and looked at it as it slept. It + was he, this abortion, this spawn, this nothing, that condemned me + to irremediable unhappiness! + + He was asleep, his mouth open, wrapped in his bed-clothes in a crib + beside my bed, where I could not sleep. + + How did I ever do what I did? How do I know? What force urged me + on? What malevolent power took possession of me? Oh! the + temptation to crime came to me without any forewarning. All I + recall is that my heart beat tumultuously. It beat so hard that I + could hear it, as one hears the strokes of a hammer behind a + partition. That is all I can recall—the beating of my heart! + In my head there was a strange confusion, a tumult, a senseless + disorder, a lack of presence of mind. It was one of those hours of + bewilderment and hallucination when a man is neither conscious of + his actions nor able to guide his will. + + I gently raised the coverings from the body of the child; I turned + them down to the foot of the crib, and he lay there uncovered and + naked. + + He did not wake. Then I went toward the window, softly, quite + softly, and I opened it. + + A breath of icy air glided in like an assassin; it was so cold that + I drew aside, and the two candles flickered. I remained standing + near the window, not daring to turn round, as if for fear of seeing + what was doing on behind me, and feeling the icy air continually + across my forehead, my cheeks, my hands, the deadly air which kept + streaming in. I stood there a long time. + + I was not thinking, I was not reflecting. All at once a little + cough caused me to shudder frightfully from head to foot, a shudder + that I feel still to the roots of my hair. And with a frantic + movement I abruptly closed both sides of the window and, turning + round, ran over to the crib. + + He was still asleep, his mouth open, quite naked. I touched his + legs; they were icy cold and I covered them up. + + My heart was suddenly touched, grieved, filled with pity, + tenderness, love for this poor innocent being that I had wished to + kill. I kissed his fine, soft hair long and tenderly; then I went + and sat down before the fire. + + I reflected with amazement with horror on what I had done, asking + myself whence come those tempests of the soul in which a man loses + all perspective of things, all command over himself and acts as in a + condition of mad intoxication, not knowing whither he is + going—like a vessel in a hurricane. + + The child coughed again, and it gave my heart a wrench. Suppose it + should die! O God! O God! What would become of me? + + I rose from my chair to go and look at him, and with a candle in my + hand I leaned over him. Seeing him breathing quietly I felt + reassured, when he coughed a third time. It gave me such a shock + tat I started backward, just as one does at sight of something + horrible, and let my candle fall. + + As I stood erect after picking it up, I noticed that my temples were + bathed in perspiration, that cold sweat which is the result of + anguish of soul. And I remained until daylight bending over my son, + becoming calm when he remained quiet for some time, and filled with + atrocious pain when a weak cough came from his mouth. + + He awoke with his eyes red, his throat choked, and with an air of + suffering. + + When the woman came in to arrange my room I sent her at once for a + doctor. He came at the end of an hour, and said, after examining + the child: + + “Did he not catch cold?” + + I began to tremble like a person with palsy, and I faltered: + + “No, I do not think so.” + + And then I said: + + “What is the matter? Is it serious?” + + “I do not know yet,” he replied. “I will come again this evening.” + + He came that evening. My son had remained almost all day in a + condition of drowsiness, coughing from time to time. During the + night inflammation of the lungs set in. + + That lasted ten days. I cannot express what I suffered in those + interminable hours that divide morning from night, right from + morning. + + He died. + + And since—since that moment, I have not passed one hour, not a + single hour, without the frightful burning recollection, a gnawing + recollection, a memory that seems to wring my heart, awaking in me + like a savage beast imprisoned in the depth of my soul. + + Oh! if I could have gone mad! +</div> + <p> + M. Poirel de la Voulte raised his spectacles with a motion that was + peculiar to him whenever he finished reading a contract; and the three + heirs of the defunct looked at one another without speaking, pale and + motionless. + </p> + <p> + At the end of a minute the lawyer resumed: + </p> + <p> + “That must be destroyed.” + </p> + <p> + The other two bent their heads in sign of assent. He lighted a candle, + carefully separated the pages containing the damaging confession from + those relating to the disposition of money, then he held them over the + candle and threw them into the fireplace. + </p> + <p> + And they watched the white sheets as they burned, till they were presently + reduced to little crumbling black heaps. And as some words were still + visible in white tracing, the daughter, with little strokes of the toe of + her shoe, crushed the burning paper, mixing it with the old ashes in the + fireplace. + </p> + <p> + Then all three stood there watching it for some time, as if they feared + that the destroyed secret might escape from the fireplace. + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0204"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + A MOTHER OF MONSTERS + </h2> + <p> + I recalled this horrible story, the events of which occurred long ago, and + this horrible woman, the other day at a fashionable seaside resort, where + I saw on the beach a well-known young, elegant and charming Parisienne, + adored and respected by everyone. + </p> + <p> + I had been invited by a friend to pay him a visit in a little provincial + town. He took me about in all directions to do the honors of the place, + showed me noted scenes, chateaux, industries, ruins. He pointed out + monuments, churches, old carved doorways, enormous or distorted trees, the + oak of St. Andrew, and the yew tree of Roqueboise. + </p> + <p> + When I had exhausted my admiration and enthusiasm over all the sights, my + friend said with a distressed expression on his face, that there was + nothing left to look at. I breathed freely. I would now be able to rest + under the shade of the trees. But, all at once, he uttered an exclamation: + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes! We have the 'Mother of Monsters'; I must take you to see + her.” + </p> + <p> + “Who is that, the 'Mother of Monsters'?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “She is an abominable woman,” he replied, “a regular + demon, a being who voluntarily brings into the world deformed, hideous, + frightful children, monstrosities, in fact, and then sells them to showmen + who exhibit such things. + </p> + <p> + “These exploiters of freaks come from time to time to find out if + she has any fresh monstrosity, and if it meets with their approval they + carry it away with them, paying the mother a compensation. + </p> + <p> + “She has eleven of this description. She is rich. + </p> + <p> + “You think I am joking, romancing, exaggerating. No, my friend; I am + telling you the truth, the exact truth. + </p> + <p> + “Let us go and see this woman. Then I will tell you her history.” + </p> + <p> + He took me into one of the suburbs. The woman lived in a pretty little + house by the side of the road. It was attractive and well kept. The garden + was filled with fragrant flowers. One might have supposed it to be the + residence of a retired lawyer. + </p> + <p> + A maid ushered us into a sort of little country parlor, and the wretch + appeared. She was about forty. She was a tall, big woman with hard + features, but well formed, vigorous and healthy, the true type of a robust + peasant woman, half animal, and half woman. + </p> + <p> + She was aware of her reputation and received everyone with a humility that + smacked of hatred. + </p> + <p> + “What do the gentlemen wish?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “They tell me that your last child is just like an ordinary child, + that he does not resemble his brothers at all,” replied my friend. + “I wanted to be sure of that. Is it true?” + </p> + <p> + She cast on us a malicious and furious look as she said: + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no, oh, no, my poor sir! He is perhaps even uglier than the + rest. I have no luck, no luck! + </p> + <p> + “They are all like that, it is heartbreaking! How can the good God + be so hard on a poor woman who is all alone in the world, how can He?” + She spoke hurriedly, her eyes cast down, with a deprecating air as of a + wild beast who is afraid. Her harsh voice became soft, and it seemed + strange to hear those tearful falsetto tones issuing from that big, bony + frame, of unusual strength and with coarse outlines, which seemed fitted + for violent action, and made to utter howls like a wolf. + </p> + <p> + “We should like to see your little one,” said my friend. + </p> + <p> + I fancied she colored up. I may have been deceived. After a few moments of + silence, she said in a louder tone: + </p> + <p> + “What good will that do you?” + </p> + <p> + “Why do you not wish to show it to us?” replied my friend. + “There are many people to whom you will show it; you know whom I + mean.” + </p> + <p> + She gave a start, and resuming her natural voice, and giving free play to + her anger, she screamed: + </p> + <p> + “Was that why you came here? To insult me? Because my children are + like animals, tell me? You shall not see him, no, no, you shall not see + him! Go away, go away! I do not know why you all try to torment me like + that.” + </p> + <p> + She walked over toward us, her hands on her hips. At the brutal tone of + her voice, a sort of moaning, or rather a mewing, the lamentable cry of an + idiot, came from the adjoining room. I shivered to the marrow of my bones. + We retreated before her. + </p> + <p> + “Take care, Devil” (they called her the Devil); said my + friend, “take care; some day you will get yourself into trouble + through this.” + </p> + <p> + She began to tremble, beside herself with fury, shaking her fist and + roaring: + </p> + <p> + “Be off with you! What will get me into trouble? Be off with you, + miscreants!” + </p> + <p> + She was about to attack us, but we fled, saddened at what we had seen. + When we got outside, my friend said: + </p> + <p> + “Well, you have seen her, what do you think of her?” + </p> + <p> + “Tell me the story of this brute,” I replied. + </p> + <p> + And this is what he told me as we walked along the white high road, with + ripe crops on either side of it which rippled like the sea in the light + breeze that passed over them. + </p> + <p> + “This woman was once a servant on a farm. She was an honest girl, + steady and economical. She was never known to have an admirer, and never + suspected of any frailty. But she went astray, as so many do. + </p> + <p> + “She soon found herself in trouble, and was tortured with fear and + shame. Wishing to conceal her misfortune, she bound her body tightly with + a corset of her own invention, made of boards and cord. The more she + developed, the more she bound herself with this instrument of torture, + suffering martyrdom, but brave in her sorrow, not allowing anyone to see, + or suspect, anything. She maimed the little unborn being, cramping it with + that frightful corset, and made a monster of it. Its head was squeezed and + elongated to a point, and its large eyes seemed popping out of its head. + Its limbs, exaggeratedly long, and twisted like the stalk of a vine, + terminated in fingers like the claws of a spider. Its trunk was tiny, and + round as a nut. + </p> + <p> + “The child was born in an open field, and when the weeders saw it, + they fled away, screaming, and the report spread that she had given birth + to a demon. From that time on, she was called 'the Devil.' + </p> + <p> + “She was driven from the farm, and lived on charity, under a cloud. + She brought up the monster, whom she hated with a savage hatred, and would + have strangled, perhaps, if the priest had not threatened her with arrest. + </p> + <p> + “One day some travelling showmen heard about the frightful creature, + and asked to see it, so that if it pleased them they might take it away. + They were pleased, and counted out five hundred francs to the mother. At + first, she had refused to let them see the little animal, as she was + ashamed; but when she discovered it had a money value, and that these + people were anxious to get it, she began to haggle with them, raising her + price with all a peasant's persistence. + </p> + <p> + “She made them draw up a paper, in which they promised to pay her + four hundred francs a year besides, as though they had taken this + deformity into their employ. + </p> + <p> + “Incited by the greed of gain, she continued to produce these + phenomena, so as to have an assured income like a bourgeoise. + </p> + <p> + “Some of them were long, some short, some like crabs-all + bodies-others like lizards. Several died, and she was heartbroken. + </p> + <p> + “The law tried to interfere, but as they had no proof they let her + continue to produce her freaks. + </p> + <p> + “She has at this moment eleven alive, and they bring in, on an + average, counting good and bad years, from five to six thousand francs a + year. One, alone, is not placed, the one she was unwilling to show us. But + she will not keep it long, for she is known to all the showmen in the + world, who come from time to time to see if she has anything new. + </p> + <p> + “She even gets bids from them when the monster is valuable.” + </p> + <p> + My friend was silent. A profound disgust stirred my heart, and a feeling + of rage, of regret, to think that I had not strangled this brute when I + had the opportunity. + </p> + <p> + I had forgotten this story, when I saw on the beach of a fashionable + resort the other day, an elegant, charming, dainty woman, surrounded by + men who paid her respect as well as admiration. + </p> + <p> + I was walking along the beach, arm in arm with a friend, the resident + physician. Ten minutes later, I saw a nursemaid with three children, who + were rolling in the sand. A pair of little crutches lay on the ground, and + touched my sympathy. I then noticed that these three children were all + deformed, humpbacked, or crooked; and hideous. + </p> + <p> + “Those are the offspring of that charming woman you saw just now,” + said the doctor. + </p> + <p> + I was filled with pity for her, as well as for them, and exclaimed: + “Oh, the poor mother! How can she ever laugh!” + </p> + <p> + “Do not pity her, my friend. Pity the poor children,” replied + the doctor. “This is the consequence of preserving a slender figure + up to the last. These little deformities were made by the corset. She + knows very well that she is risking her life at this game. But what does + she care, as long as he can be beautiful and have admirers!” + </p> + <p> + And then I recalled that other woman, the peasant, the “Devil,” + who sold her children, her monsters. + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0205"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + AN UNCOMFORTABLE BED + </h2> + <p> + One autumn I went to spend the hunting season with some friends in a + chateau in Picardy. + </p> + <p> + My friends were fond of practical jokes. I do not care to know people who + are not. + </p> + <p> + When I arrived, they gave me a princely reception, which at once awakened + suspicion in my mind. They fired off rifles, embraced me, made much of me, + as if they expected to have great fun at my expense. + </p> + <p> + I said to myself: + </p> + <p> + “Look out, old ferret! They have something in store for you.” + </p> + <p> + During the dinner the mirth was excessive, exaggerated, in fact. I + thought: “Here are people who have more than their share of + amusement, and apparently without reason. They must have planned some good + joke. Assuredly I am to be the victim of the joke. Attention!” + </p> + <p> + During the entire evening every one laughed in an exaggerated fashion. I + scented a practical joke in the air, as a dog scents game. But what was + it? I was watchful, restless. I did not let a word, or a meaning, or a + gesture escape me. Every one seemed to me an object of suspicion, and I + even looked distrustfully at the faces of the servants. + </p> + <p> + The hour struck for retiring; and the whole household came to escort me to + my room. Why? + </p> + <p> + They called to me: “Good-night.” I entered the apartment, shut + the door, and remained standing, without moving a single step, holding the + wax candle in my hand. + </p> + <p> + I heard laughter and whispering in the corridor. Without doubt they were + spying on me. I cast a glance round the walls, the furniture, the ceiling, + the hangings, the floor. I saw nothing to justify suspicion. I heard + persons moving about outside my door. I had no doubt they were looking + through the keyhole. + </p> + <p> + An idea came into my head: “My candle may suddenly go out and leave + me in darkness.” + </p> + <p> + Then I went across to the mantelpiece and lighted all the wax candles that + were on it. After that I cast another glance around me without discovering + anything. I advanced with short steps, carefully examining the apartment. + Nothing. I inspected every article, one after the other. Still nothing. I + went over to the window. The shutters, large wooden shutters, were open. I + shut them with great care, and then drew the curtains, enormous velvet + curtains, and placed a chair in front of them, so as to have nothing to + fear from outside. + </p> + <p> + Then I cautiously sat down. The armchair was solid. I did not venture to + get into the bed. However, the night was advancing; and I ended by coming + to the conclusion that I was foolish. If they were spying on me, as I + supposed, they must, while waiting for the success of the joke they had + been preparing for me, have been laughing immoderately at my terror. So I + made up my mind to go to bed. But the bed was particularly + suspicious-looking. I pulled at the curtains. They seemed to be secure. + </p> + <p> + All the same, there was danger. I was going perhaps to receive a cold + shower both from overhead, or perhaps, the moment I stretched myself out, + to find myself sinking to the floor with my mattress. I searched in my + memory for all the practical jokes of which I ever had experience. And I + did not want to be caught. Ah! certainly not! certainly not! Then I + suddenly bethought myself of a precaution which I considered insured + safety. I caught hold of the side of the mattress gingerly, and very + slowly drew it toward me. It came away, followed by the sheet and the rest + of the bedclothes. I dragged all these objects into the very middle of the + room, facing the entrance door. I made my bed over again as best I could + at some distance from the suspected bedstead and the corner which had + filled me with such anxiety. Then I extinguished all the candles, and, + groping my way, I slipped under the bed clothes. + </p> + <p> + For at least another hour I remained awake, starting at the slightest + sound. Everything seemed quiet in the chateau. I fell asleep. + </p> + <p> + I must have been in a deep sleep for a long time, but all of a sudden I + was awakened with a start by the fall of a heavy body tumbling right on + top of my own, and, at the same time, I received on my face, on my neck, + and on my chest a burning liquid which made me utter a howl of pain. And a + dreadful noise, as if a sideboard laden with plates and dishes had fallen + down, almost deafened me. + </p> + <p> + I was smothering beneath the weight that was crushing me and preventing me + from moving. I stretched out my hand to find out what was the nature of + this object. I felt a face, a nose, and whiskers. Then, with all my + strength, I launched out a blow at this face. But I immediately received a + hail of cuffings which made me jump straight out of the soaked sheets, and + rush in my nightshirt into the corridor, the door of which I found open. + </p> + <p> + Oh, heavens! it was broad daylight. The noise brought my friends hurrying + into my apartment, and we found, sprawling over my improvised bed, the + dismayed valet, who, while bringing me my morning cup of tea, had tripped + over this obstacle in the middle of the floor and fallen on his stomach, + spilling my breakfast over my face in spite of himself. + </p> + <p> + The precautions I had taken in closing the shutters and going to sleep in + the middle of the room had only brought about the practical joke I had + been trying to avoid. + </p> + <p> + Oh, how they all laughed that day! + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0206"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + A PORTRAIT + </h2> + <p> + “Hello! there's Milial!” said somebody near me. I looked at + the man who had been pointed out as I had been wishing for a long time to + meet this Don Juan. + </p> + <p> + He was no longer young. His gray hair looked a little like those fur + bonnets worn by certain Northern peoples, and his long beard, which fell + down over his chest, had also somewhat the appearance of fur. He was + talking to a lady, leaning toward her, speaking in a low voice and looking + at her with an expression full of respect and tenderness. + </p> + <p> + I knew his life, or at least as much as was known of it. He had loved + madly several times, and there had been certain tragedies with which his + name had been connected. When I spoke to women who were the loudest in his + praise, and asked them whence came this power, they always answered, after + thinking for a while: “I don't know—he has a certain charm + about him.” + </p> + <p> + He was certainly not handsome. He had none of the elegance that we ascribe + to conquerors of feminine hearts. I wondered what might be his hidden + charm. Was it mental? I never had heard of a clever saying of his. In his + glance? Perhaps. Or in his voice? The voices of some beings have a certain + irresistible attraction, almost suggesting the flavor of things good to + eat. One is hungry for them, and the sound of their words penetrates us + like a dainty morsel. A friend was passing. I asked him: “Do you + know Monsieur Milial?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Introduce us.” + </p> + <p> + A minute later we were shaking hands and talking in the doorway. What he + said was correct, agreeable to hear; it contained no irritable thought. + The voice was sweet, soft, caressing, musical; but I had heard others much + more attractive, much more moving. One listened to him with pleasure, just + as one would look at a pretty little brook. No tension of the mind was + necessary in order to follow him, no hidden meaning aroused curiosity, no + expectation awoke interest. His conversation was rather restful, but it + did not awaken in one either a desire to answer, to contradict or to + approve, and it was as easy to answer him as it was to listen to him. The + response came to the lips of its own accord, as soon as he had finished + talking, and phrases turned toward him as if he had naturally aroused + them. + </p> + <p> + One thought soon struck me. I had known him for a quarter of an hour, and + it seemed as if he were already one of my old friends, that I had known + all about him for a long time; his face, his gestures, his voice, his + ideas. Suddenly, after a few minutes of conversation, he seemed already to + be installed in my intimacy. All constraint disappeared between us, and, + had he so desired, I might have confided in him as one confides only in + old friends. + </p> + <p> + Certainly there was some mystery about him. Those barriers that are closed + between most people and that are lowered with time when sympathy, similar + tastes, equal intellectual culture and constant intercourse remove + constraint—those barriers seemed not to exist between him and me, + and no doubt this was the case between him and all people, both men and + women, whom fate threw in his path. + </p> + <p> + After half an hour we parted, promising to see each other often, and he + gave me his address after inviting me to take luncheon with him in two + days. + </p> + <p> + I forgot what hour he had stated, and I arrived too soon; he was not yet + home. A correct and silent domestic showed me into a beautiful, quiet, + softly lighted parlor. I felt comfortable there, at home. How often I have + noticed the influence of apartments on the character and on the mind! + There are some which make one feel foolish; in others, on the contrary, + one always feels lively. Some make us sad, although well lighted and + decorated in light-colored furniture; others cheer us up, although hung + with sombre material. Our eye, like our heart, has its likes and dislikes, + of which it does not inform us, and which it secretly imposes on our + temperament. The harmony of furniture, walls, the style of an ensemble, + act immediately on our mental state, just as the air from the woods, the + sea or the mountains modifies our physical natures. + </p> + <p> + I sat down on a cushion-covered divan and felt myself suddenly carried and + supported by these little silk bags of feathers, as if the outline of my + body had been marked out beforehand on this couch. + </p> + <p> + Then I looked about. There was nothing striking about the room; + every-where were beautiful and modest things, simple and rare furniture, + Oriental curtains which did not seem to come from a department store but + from the interior of a harem; and exactly opposite me hung the portrait of + a woman. It was a portrait of medium size, showing the head and the upper + part of the body, and the hands, which were holding a book. She was young, + bareheaded; ribbons were woven in her hair; she was smiling sadly. Was it + because she was bareheaded, was it merely her natural expression? I never + have seen a portrait of a lady which seemed so much in its place as that + one in that dwelling. Of all those I knew I have seen nothing like that + one. All those that I know are on exhibition, whether the lady be dressed + in her gaudiest gown, with an attractive headdress and a look which shows + that she is posing first of all before the artist and then before those + who will look at her or whether they have taken a comfortable attitude in + an ordinary gown. Some are standing majestically in all their beauty, + which is not at all natural to them in life. All of them have something, a + flower or, a jewel, a crease in the dress or a curve of the lip, which one + feels to have been placed there for effect by the artist. Whether they + wear a hat or merely their hair one can immediately notice that they are + not entirely natural. Why? One cannot say without knowing them, but the + effect is there. They seem to be calling somewhere, on people whom they + wish to please and to whom they wish to appear at their best advantage; + and they have studied their attitudes, sometimes modest, Sometimes + haughty. + </p> + <p> + What could one say about this one? She was at home and alone. Yes, she was + alone, for she was smiling as one smiles when thinking in solitude of + something sad or sweet, and not as one smiles when one is being watched. + She seemed so much alone and so much at home that she made the whole large + apartment seem absolutely empty. She alone lived in it, filled it, gave it + life. Many people might come in and converse, laugh, even sing; she would + still be alone with a solitary smile, and she alone would give it life + with her pictured gaze. + </p> + <p> + That look also was unique. It fell directly on me, fixed and caressing, + without seeing me. All portraits know that they are being watched, and + they answer with their eyes, which see, think, follow us without leaving + us, from the very moment we enter the apartment they inhabit. This one did + not see me; it saw nothing, although its look was fixed directly on me. I + remembered the surprising verse of Baudelaire: + </p> + <p> + And your eyes, attractive as those of a portrait. + </p> + <p> + They did indeed attract me in an irresistible manner; those painted eyes + which had lived, or which were perhaps still living, threw over me a + strange, powerful spell. Oh, what an infinite and tender charm, like a + passing breeze, like a dying sunset of lilac rose and blue, a little sad + like the approaching night, which comes behind the sombre frame and out of + those impenetrable eyes! Those eyes, created by a few strokes from a + brush, hide behind them the mystery of that which seems to be and which + does not exist, which can appear in the eyes of a woman, which can make + love blossom within us. + </p> + <p> + The door opened and M. Milial entered. He excused himself for being late. + I excused myself for being ahead of time. Then I said: “Might I ask + you who is this lady?” + </p> + <p> + He answered: “That is my mother. She died very young.” + </p> + <p> + Then I understood whence came the inexplicable attraction of this man. + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0207"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + THE DRUNKARD + </h2> + <p> + The north wind was blowing a hurricane, driving through the sky big, + black, heavy clouds from which the rain poured down on the earth with + terrific violence. + </p> + <p> + A high sea was raging and dashing its huge, slow, foamy waves along the + coast with the rumbling sound of thunder. The waves followed each other + close, rolling in as high as mountains, scattering the foam as they broke. + </p> + <p> + The storm engulfed itself in the little valley of Yport, whistling and + moaning, tearing the shingles from the roofs, smashing the shutters, + knocking down the chimneys, rushing through the narrow streets in such + gusts that one could walk only by holding on to the walls, and children + would have been lifted up like leaves and carried over the houses into the + fields. + </p> + <p> + The fishing smacks had been hauled high up on land, because at high tide + the sea would sweep the beach. Several sailors, sheltered behind the + curved bottoms of their boats, were watching this battle of the sky and + the sea. + </p> + <p> + Then, one by one, they went away, for night was falling on the storm, + wrapping in shadows the raging ocean and all the battling elements. + </p> + <p> + Just two men remained, their hands plunged deep into their pockets, + bending their backs beneath the squall, their woolen caps pulled down over + their ears; two big Normandy fishermen, bearded, their skin tanned through + exposure, with the piercing black eyes of the sailor who looks over the + horizon like a bird of prey. + </p> + <p> + One of them was saying: + </p> + <p> + “Come on, Jeremie, let's go play dominoes. It's my treat.” + </p> + <p> + The other hesitated a while, tempted on one hand by the game and the + thought of brandy, knowing well that, if he went to Paumelle's, he would + return home drunk; held back, on the other hand, by the idea of his wife + remaining alone in the house. + </p> + <p> + He asked: + </p> + <p> + “Any one might think that you had made a bet to get me drunk every + night. Say, what good is it doing you, since it's always you that's + treating?” + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless he was smiling at the idea of all this brandy drunk at the + expense of another. He was smiling the contented smirk of an avaricious + Norman. + </p> + <p> + Mathurin, his friend, kept pulling him by the sleeve. + </p> + <p> + “Come on, Jeremie. This isn't the kind of a night to go home without + anything to warm you up. What are you afraid of? Isn't your wife going to + warm your bed for you?” + </p> + <p> + Jeremie answered: + </p> + <p> + “The other night I couldn't find the door—I had to be fished + out of the ditch in front of the house!” + </p> + <p> + He was still laughing at this drunkard's recollection, and he was + unconsciously going toward Paumelle's Cafe, where a light was shining in + the window; he was going, pulled by Mathurin and pushed by the wind, + unable to resist these combined forces. + </p> + <p> + The low room was full of sailors, smoke and noise. All these men, clad in + woolens, their elbows on the tables, were shouting to make themselves + heard. The more people came in, the more one had to shout in order to + overcome the noise of voices and the rattling of dominoes on the marble + tables. + </p> + <p> + Jeremie and Mathurin sat down in a corner and began a game, and the + glasses were emptied in rapid succession into their thirsty throats. + </p> + <p> + Then they played more games and drank more glasses. Mathurin kept pouring + and winking to the saloon keeper, a big, red-faced man, who chuckled as + though at the thought of some fine joke; and Jeremie kept absorbing + alcohol and wagging his head, giving vent to a roar of laughter and + looking at his comrade with a stupid and contented expression. + </p> + <p> + All the customers were going away. Every time that one of them would open + the door to leave a gust of wind would blow into the cafe, making the + tobacco smoke swirl around, swinging the lamps at the end of their chains + and making their flames flicker, and suddenly one could hear the deep + booming of a breaking wave and the moaning of the wind. + </p> + <p> + Jeremie, his collar unbuttoned, was taking drunkard's poses, one leg + outstretched, one arm hanging down and in the other hand holding a domino. + </p> + <p> + They were alone now with the owner, who had come up to them, interested. + </p> + <p> + He asked: + </p> + <p> + “Well, Jeremie, how goes it inside? Feel less thirsty after wetting + your throat?” + </p> + <p> + Jeremie muttered: + </p> + <p> + “The more I wet it, the drier it gets inside.” + </p> + <p> + The innkeeper cast a sly glance at Mathurin. He said: + </p> + <p> + “And your brother, Mathurin, where's he now?” + </p> + <p> + The sailor laughed silently: + </p> + <p> + “Don't worry; he's warm, all right.” + </p> + <p> + And both of them looked toward Jeremie, who was triumphantly putting down + the double six and announcing: + </p> + <p> + “Game!” + </p> + <p> + Then the owner declared: + </p> + <p> + “Well, boys, I'm goin' to bed. I will leave you the lamp and the + bottle; there's twenty cents' worth in it. Lock the door when you go, + Mathurin, and slip the key under the mat the way you did the other night.” + </p> + <p> + Mathurin answered: + </p> + <p> + “Don't worry; it'll be all right.” + </p> + <p> + Paumelle shook hands with his two customers and slowly went up the wooden + stairs. For several minutes his heavy step echoed through the little + house. Then a loud creaking announced that he had got into bed. + </p> + <p> + The two men continued to play. From time to time a more violent gust of + wind would shake the whole house, and the two drinkers would look up, as + though some one were about to enter. Then Mathurin would take the bottle + and fill Jeremie's glass. But suddenly the clock over the bar struck + twelve. Its hoarse clang sounded like the rattling of saucepans. Then + Mathurin got up like a sailor whose watch is over. + </p> + <p> + “Come on, Jeremie, we've got to get out.” + </p> + <p> + The other man rose to his feet with difficulty, got his balance by leaning + on the table, reached the door and opened it while his companion was + putting out the light. + </p> + <p> + As soon as they were in the street Mathurin locked the door and then said: + </p> + <p> + “Well, so long. See you to-morrow night!” + </p> + <p> + And he disappeared in the darkness. + </p> + <p> + Jeremie took a few steps, staggered, stretched out his hands, met a wall + which supported him and began to stumble along. From time to time a gust + of wind would sweep through the street, pushing him forward, making him + run for a few steps; then, when the wind would die down, he would stop + short, having lost his impetus, and once more he would begin to stagger on + his unsteady drunkard's legs. + </p> + <p> + He went instinctively toward his home, just as birds go to their nests. + Finally he recognized his door, and began to feel about for the keyhole + and tried to put the key in it. Not finding the hole, he began to swear. + Then he began to beat on the door with his fists, calling for his wife to + come and help him: + </p> + <p> + “Melina! Oh, Melina!” + </p> + <p> + As he leaned against the door for support, it gave way and opened, and + Jeremie, losing his prop, fell inside, rolling on his face into the middle + of his room, and he felt something heavy pass over him and escape in the + night. + </p> + <p> + He was no longer moving, dazed by fright, bewildered, fearing the devil, + ghosts, all the mysterious beings of darkness, and he waited a long time + without daring to move. But when he found out that nothing else was + moving, a little reason returned to him, the reason of a drunkard. + </p> + <p> + Gently he sat up. Again he waited a long time, and at last, growing + bolder, he called: + </p> + <p> + “Melina!” + </p> + <p> + His wife did not answer. + </p> + <p> + Then, suddenly, a suspicion crossed his darkened mind, an indistinct, + vague suspicion. He was not moving; he was sitting there in the dark, + trying to gather together his scattered wits, his mind stumbling over + incomplete ideas, just as his feet stumbled along. + </p> + <p> + Once more he asked: + </p> + <p> + “Who was it, Melina? Tell me who it was. I won't hurt you!” + </p> + <p> + He waited, no voice was raised in the darkness. He was now reasoning with + himself out loud. + </p> + <p> + “I'm drunk, all right! I'm drunk! And he filled me up, the dog; he + did it, to stop my goin' home. I'm drunk!” + </p> + <p> + And he would continue: + </p> + <p> + “Tell me who it was, Melina, or somethin'll happen to you.” + </p> + <p> + After having waited again, he went on with the slow and obstinate logic of + a drunkard: + </p> + <p> + “He's been keeping me at that loafer Paumelle's place every night, + so as to stop my going home. It's some trick. Oh, you damned carrion!” + </p> + <p> + Slowly he got on his knees. A blind fury was gaining possession of him, + mingling with the fumes of alcohol. + </p> + <p> + He continued: + </p> + <p> + “Tell me who it was, Melina, or you'll get a licking—I warn + you!” + </p> + <p> + He was now standing, trembling with a wild fury, as though the alcohol had + set his blood on fire. He took a step, knocked against a chair, seized it, + went on, reached the bed, ran his hands over it and felt the warm body of + his wife. + </p> + <p> + Then, maddened, he roared: + </p> + <p> + “So! You were there, you piece of dirt, and you wouldn't answer!” + </p> + <p> + And, lifting the chair, which he was holding in his strong sailor's grip, + he swung it down before him with an exasperated fury. A cry burst from the + bed, an agonizing, piercing cry. Then he began to thrash around like a + thresher in a barn. And soon nothing more moved. The chair was broken to + pieces, but he still held one leg and beat away with it, panting. + </p> + <p> + At last he stopped to ask: + </p> + <p> + “Well, are you ready to tell me who it was?” + </p> + <p> + Melina did not answer. + </p> + <p> + Then tired out, stupefied from his exertion, he stretched himself out on + the ground and slept. + </p> + <p> + When day came a neighbor, seeing the door open, entered. He saw Jeremie + snoring on the floor, amid the broken pieces of a chair, and on the bed a + pulp of flesh and blood. + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0208"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + THE WARDROBE + </h2> + <p> + As we sat chatting after dinner, a party of men, the conversation turned + on women, for lack of something else. + </p> + <p> + One of us said: + </p> + <p> + “Here's a funny thing that happened to me on, that very subject.” + And he told us the following story: + </p> + <p> + One evening last winter I suddenly felt overcome by that overpowering + sense of misery and languor that takes possession of one from time to + time. I was in my own apartment, all alone, and I was convinced that if I + gave in to my feelings I should have a terrible attack of melancholia, one + of those attacks that lead to suicide when they recur too often. + </p> + <p> + I put on my overcoat and went out without the slightest idea of what I was + going to do. Having gone as far as the boulevards, I began to wander along + by the almost empty cafes. It was raining, a fine rain that affects your + mind as it does your clothing, not one of those good downpours which come + down in torrents, driving breathless passers-by into doorways, but a rain + without drops that deposits on your clothing an imperceptible spray and + soon covers you with a sort of iced foam that chills you through. + </p> + <p> + What should I do? I walked in one direction and then came back, looking + for some place where I could spend two hours, and discovering for the + first time that there is no place of amusement in Paris in the evening. At + last I decided to go to the Folies-Bergere, that entertaining resort for + gay women. + </p> + <p> + There were very few people in the main hall. In the long horseshoe curve + there were only a few ordinary looking people, whose plebeian origin was + apparent in their manners, their clothes, the cut of their hair and beard, + their hats, their complexion. It was rarely that one saw from time to time + a man whom you suspected of having washed himself thoroughly, and his + whole make-up seemed to match. As for the women, they were always the + same, those frightful women you all know, ugly, tired looking, drooping, + and walking along in their lackadaisical manner, with that air of foolish + superciliousness which they assume, I do not know why. + </p> + <p> + I thought to myself that, in truth, not one of those languid creatures, + greasy rather than fat, puffed out here and thin there, with the contour + of a monk and the lower extremities of a bow-legged snipe, was worth the + louis that they would get with great difficulty after asking five. + </p> + <p> + But all at once I saw a little creature whom I thought attractive, not in + her first youth, but fresh, comical and tantalizing. I stopped her, and + stupidly, without thinking, I made an appointment with her for that night. + I did not want to go back to my own home alone, all alone; I preferred the + company and the caresses of this hussy. + </p> + <p> + And I followed her. She lived in a great big house in the Rue des Martyrs. + The gas was already extinguished on the stairway. I ascended the steps + slowly, lighting a candle match every few seconds, stubbing my foot + against the steps, stumbling and angry as I followed the rustle of the + skirt ahead of me. + </p> + <p> + She stopped on the fourth floor, and having closed the outer door she + said: + </p> + <p> + “Then you will stay till to-morrow?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes. You know that that was the agreement.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, my dear, I just wanted to know. Wait for me here a + minute, I will be right back.” + </p> + <p> + And she left me in the darkness. I heard her shutting two doors and then I + thought I heard her talking. I was surprised and uneasy. The thought that + she had a protector staggered me. But I have good fists and a solid back. + “We shall see,” I said to myself. + </p> + <p> + I listened attentively with ear and mind. Some one was stirring about, + walking quietly and very carefully. Then another door was opened and I + thought I again heard some one talking, but in a very low tone. + </p> + <p> + She came back carrying a lighted candle. + </p> + <p> + “You may come in,” she said. + </p> + <p> + She said “thou” in speaking to me, which was an indication of + possession. I went in and after passing through a dining room in which it + was very evident that no one ever ate, I entered a typical room of all + these women, a furnished room with red curtains and a soiled eiderdown bed + covering. + </p> + <p> + “Make yourself at home, 'mon chat',” she said. + </p> + <p> + I gave a suspicious glance at the room, but there seemed no reason for + uneasiness. + </p> + <p> + As she took off her wraps she began to laugh. + </p> + <p> + “Well, what ails you? Are you changed into a pillar of salt? Come, + hurry up.” + </p> + <p> + I did as she suggested. + </p> + <p> + Five minutes later I longed to put on my things and get away. But this + terrible languor that had overcome me at home took possession of me again, + and deprived me of energy enough to move and I stayed in spite of the + disgust that I felt for this association. The unusual attractiveness that + I supposed I had discovered in this creature over there under the + chandeliers of the theater had altogether vanished on closer acquaintance, + and she was nothing more to me now than a common woman, like all the + others, whose indifferent and complaisant kiss smacked of garlic. + </p> + <p> + I thought I would say something. + </p> + <p> + “Have you lived here long?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “Over six months on the fifteenth of January.” + </p> + <p> + “Where were you before that?” + </p> + <p> + “In the Rue Clauzel. But the janitor made me very uncomfortable and + I left.” + </p> + <p> + And she began to tell me an interminable story of a janitor who had talked + scandal about her. + </p> + <p> + But, suddenly, I heard something moving quite close to us. First there was + a sigh, then a slight, but distinct, sound as if some one had turned round + on a chair. + </p> + <p> + I sat up abruptly and asked. + </p> + <p> + “What was that noise?” + </p> + <p> + She answered quietly and confidently: + </p> + <p> + “Do not be uneasy, my dear boy, it is my neighbor. The partition is + so thin that one can hear everything as if it were in the room. These are + wretched rooms, just like pasteboard.” + </p> + <p> + I felt so lazy that I paid no further attention to it. We resumed our + conversation. Driven by the stupid curiosity that prompts all men to + question these creatures about their first experiences, to attempt to lift + the veil of their first folly, as though to find in them a trace of + pristine innocence, to love them, possibly, in a fleeting memory of their + candor and modesty of former days, evoked by a word, I insistently asked + her about her earlier lovers. + </p> + <p> + I knew she was telling me lies. What did it matter? Among all these lies I + might, perhaps, discover something sincere and pathetic. + </p> + <p> + “Come,” said I, “tell me who he was.” + </p> + <p> + “He was a boating man, my dear.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! Tell me about it. Where were you?” + </p> + <p> + “I was at Argenteuil.” + </p> + <p> + “What were you doing?” + </p> + <p> + “I was waitress in a restaurant.” + </p> + <p> + “What restaurant?” + </p> + <p> + “'The Freshwater Sailor.' Do you know it?” + </p> + <p> + “I should say so, kept by Bonanfan.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, that's it.” + </p> + <p> + “And how did he make love to you, this boating man?” + </p> + <p> + “While I was doing his room. He took advantage of me.” + </p> + <p> + But I suddenly recalled the theory of a friend of mine, an observant and + philosophical physician whom constant attendance in hospitals has brought + into daily contact with girl-mothers and prostitutes, with all the shame + and all the misery of women, of those poor women who have become the + frightful prey of the wandering male with money in his pocket. + </p> + <p> + “A woman,” he said, “is always debauched by a man of her + own class and position. I have volumes of statistics on that subject. We + accuse the rich of plucking the flower of innocence among the girls of the + people. This is not correct. The rich pay for what they want. They may + gather some, but never for the first time.” + </p> + <p> + Then, turning to my companion, I began to laugh. + </p> + <p> + “You know that I am aware of your history. The boating man was not + the first.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, my dear, I swear it:” + </p> + <p> + “You are lying, my dear.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no, I assure you.” + </p> + <p> + “You are lying; come, tell me all.” + </p> + <p> + She seemed to hesitate in astonishment. I continued: + </p> + <p> + “I am a sorcerer, my dear girl, I am a clairvoyant. If you do not + tell me the truth, I will go into a trance sleep and then I can find out.” + </p> + <p> + She was afraid, being as stupid as all her kind. She faltered: + </p> + <p> + “How did you guess?” + </p> + <p> + “Come, go on telling me,” I said. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, the first time didn't amount to anything. + </p> + <p> + “There was a festival in the country. They had sent for a special + chef, M. Alexandre. As soon as he came he did just as he pleased in the + house. He bossed every one, even the proprietor and his wife, as if he had + been a king. He was a big handsome man, who did not seem fitted to stand + beside a kitchen range. He was always calling out, 'Come, some butter + —some eggs—some Madeira!' And it had to be brought to him at + once in a hurry, or he would get cross and say things that would make us + blush all over. + </p> + <p> + “When the day was over he would smoke a pipe outside the door. And + as I was passing by him with a pile of plates he said to me, like that: + 'Come, girlie, come down to the water with me and show me the country.' I + went with him like a fool, and we had hardly got down to the bank of the + river when he took advantage of me so suddenly that I did not even know + what he was doing. And then he went away on the nine o'clock train. I + never saw him again.” + </p> + <p> + “Is that all?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + She hesitated. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I think Florentin belongs to him.” + </p> + <p> + “Who is Florentin?” + </p> + <p> + “My little boy.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! Well, then, you made the boating man believe that he was the + father, did you not?” + </p> + <p> + “You bet!” + </p> + <p> + “Did he have any money, this boating man?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, he left me an income of three hundred francs, settled on + Florentin.” + </p> + <p> + I was beginning to be amused and resumed: + </p> + <p> + “All right, my girl, all right. You are all of you less stupid than + one would imagine, all the same. And how old is he now, Florentin?” + </p> + <p> + She replied: + </p> + <p> + “He is now twelve. He will make his first communion in the spring.” + </p> + <p> + “That is splendid. And since then you have carried on your business + conscientiously?” + </p> + <p> + She sighed in a resigned manner. + </p> + <p> + “I must do what I can.” + </p> + <p> + But a loud noise just then coming from the room itself made me start up + with a bound. It sounded like some one falling and picking themselves up + again by feeling along the wall with their hands. + </p> + <p> + I had seized the candle and was looking about me, terrified and furious. + She had risen also and was trying to hold me back to stop me, murmuring: + </p> + <p> + “That's nothing, my dear, I assure you it's nothing.” + </p> + <p> + But I had discovered what direction the strange noise came from. I walked + straight towards a door hidden at the head of the bed and I opened it + abruptly and saw before me, trembling, his bright, terrified eyes opened + wide at sight of me, a little pale, thin boy seated beside a large wicker + chair off which he had fallen. + </p> + <p> + As soon as he saw me he began to cry. Stretching out his arms to his + mother, he cried: + </p> + <p> + “It was not my fault, mamma, it was not my fault. I was asleep, and + I fell off. Do not scold me, it was not my fault.” + </p> + <p> + I turned to the woman and said: + </p> + <p> + “What does this mean?” + </p> + <p> + She seemed confused and worried, and said in a broken voice: + </p> + <p> + “What do you want me to do? I do not earn enough to put him to + school! I have to keep him with me, and I cannot afford to pay for another + room, by heavens! He sleeps with me when I am alone. If any one comes for + one hour or two he can stay in the wardrobe; he keeps quiet, he + understands it. But when people stay all night, as you have done, it tires + the poor child to sleep on a chair. + </p> + <p> + “It is not his fault. I should like to see you sleep all night on a + chair—you would have something to say.” + </p> + <p> + She was getting angry and excited and was talking loud. + </p> + <p> + The child was still crying. A poor delicate timid little fellow, a + veritable child of the wardrobe, of the cold, dark closet, a child who + from time to time was allowed to get a little warmth in the bed if it + chanced to be unoccupied. + </p> + <p> + I also felt inclined to cry. + </p> + <p> + And I went home to my own bed. + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0209"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + THE MOUNTAIN POOL + </h2> +<div class='pre'> + Saint Agnes, May 6. +MY DEAR FRIEND: +You asked me to write to you often and to tell you in particular about +the things I might see. You also begged me to rummage among my +recollections of travels for some of those little anecdotes gathered from +a chance peasant, from an innkeeper, from some strange traveling +acquaintance, which remain as landmarks in the memory. With a landscape +depicted in a few lines, and a little story told in a few sentences you +think one can give the true characteristics of a country, make it living, +visible, dramatic. I will try to do as you wish. I will, therefore, +send you from time to time letters in which I will mention neither you +nor myself, but only the landscape and the people who move about in it. +And now I will begin. +</div> + <p> + Spring is a season in which one ought, it seems to me, to drink and eat + the landscape. It is the season of chills, just as autumn is the season of + reflection. In spring the country rouses the physical senses, in autumn it + enters into the soul. + </p> + <p> + I desired this year to breathe the odor of orange blossoms and I set out + for the South of France just at the time that every one else was returning + home. I visited Monaco, the shrine of pilgrims, rival of Mecca and + Jerusalem, without leaving any gold in any one else's pockets, and I + climbed the high mountain beneath a covering of lemon, orange and olive + branches. + </p> + <p> + Have you ever slept, my friend, in a grove of orange trees in flower? The + air that one inhales with delight is a quintessence of perfumes. The + strong yet sweet odor, delicious as some dainty, seems to blend with our + being, to saturate us, to intoxicate us, to enervate us, to plunge us into + a sleepy, dreamy torpor. As though it were an opium prepared by the hands + of fairies and not by those of druggists. + </p> + <p> + This is a country of ravines. The surface of the mountains is cleft, + hollowed out in all directions, and in these sinuous crevices grow + veritable forests of lemon trees. Here and there where the steep gorge is + interrupted by a sort of step, a kind of reservoir has been built which + holds the water of the rain storms. + </p> + <p> + They are large holes with slippery walls with nothing for any one to grasp + hold of should they fall in. + </p> + <p> + I was walking slowly in one of these ascending valleys or gorges, glancing + through the foliage at the vivid-hued fruit that remained on the branches. + The narrow gorge made the heavy odor of the flowers still more + penetrating; the air seemed to be dense with it. A feeling of lassitude + came over me and I looked for a place to sit down. A few drops of water + glistened in the grass. I thought that there was a spring near by and I + climbed a little further to look for it. But I only reached the edge of + one of these large, deep reservoirs. + </p> + <p> + I sat down tailor fashion, with my legs crossed under me, and remained + there in a reverie before this hole, which looked as if it were filled + with ink, so black and stagnant was the liquid it contained. Down yonder, + through the branches, I saw, like patches, bits of the Mediterranean + gleaming so that they fairly dazzled my eyes. But my glance always + returned to the immense somber well that appeared to be inhabited by no + aquatic animals, so motionless was its surface. Suddenly a voice made me + tremble. An old gentleman who was picking flowers—this country is + the richest in Europe for herbalists—asked me: + </p> + <p> + “Are you a relation of those poor children, monsieur?” + </p> + <p> + I looked at him in astonishment. + </p> + <p> + “What children, monsieur?” + </p> + <p> + He seemed embarrassed and answered with a bow: + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon. On seeing you sitting thus absorbed in front of + this reservoir I thought you were recalling the frightful tragedy that + occurred here.” + </p> + <p> + Now I wanted to know about it, and I begged him to tell me the story. + </p> + <p> + It is very dismal and very heart-rending, my dear friend, and very trivial + at the same time. It is a simple news item. I do not know whether to + attribute my emotion to the dramatic manner in which the story was told to + me, to the setting of the mountains, to the contrast between the joy of + the sunlight and the flowers and this black, murderous hole, but my heart + was wrung, all my nerves unstrung by this tale which, perhaps, may not + appear so terribly harrowing to you as you read it in your room without + having the scene of the tragedy before your eyes. + </p> + <p> + It was one spring in recent years. Two little boys frequently came to play + on the edge of this cistern while their tutor lay under a tree reading a + book. One warm afternoon a piercing cry awoke the tutor who was dozing and + the sound of splashing caused by something falling into the water made him + jump to his feet abruptly. The younger of the children, eight years of + age, was shouting, as he stood beside the reservoir, the surface of which + was stirred and eddying at the spot where the older boy had fallen in as + he ran along the stone coping. + </p> + <p> + Distracted, without waiting or stopping to think what was best to do, the + tutor jumped into the black water and did not rise again, having struck + his head at the bottom of the cistern. + </p> + <p> + At the same moment the young boy who had risen to the surface was waving + his stretched-out arms toward his brother. The little fellow on land lay + down full length, while the other tried to swim, to approach the wall, and + presently the four little hands clasped each other, tightened in each + other's grasp, contracted as though they were fastened together. They both + felt the intense joy of an escape from death, a shudder at the danger + past. + </p> + <p> + The older boy tried to climb up to the edge, but could not manage it, as + the wall was perpendicular, and his brother, who was too weak, was sliding + slowly towards the hole. + </p> + <p> + Then they remained motionless, filled anew with terror. And they waited. + </p> + <p> + The little fellow squeezed his brother's hands with all his might and wept + from nervousness as he repeated: “I cannot drag you out, I cannot + drag you out.” And all at once he began to shout, “Help! Help!” + But his light voice scarcely penetrated beyond the dome of foliage above + their heads. + </p> + <p> + They remained thus a long time, hours and hours, facing each other, these + two children, with one thought, one anguish of heart and the horrible + dread that one of them, exhausted, might let go the hands of the other. + And they kept on calling, but all in vain. + </p> + <p> + At length the older boy, who was shivering with cold, said to the little + one: “I cannot hold out any longer. I am going to fall. Good-by, + little brother.” And the other, gasping, replied: “Not yet, + not yet, wait.” + </p> + <p> + Evening came on, the still evening with its stars mirrored in the water. + The older lad, his endurance giving out, said: “Let go my hand, I am + going to give you my watch.” He had received it as a present a few + days before, and ever since it had been his chief amusement. He was able + to get hold of it, and held it out to the little fellow who was sobbing + and who laid it down on the grass beside him. + </p> + <p> + It was night now. The two unhappy beings, exhausted, had almost loosened + their grasp. The elder, at last, feeling that he was lost, murmured once + more: “Good-by, little brother, kiss mamma and papa.” And his + numbed fingers relaxed their hold. He sank and did not rise again . . . . + The little fellow, left alone, began to shout wildly: “Paul! Paul!” + But the other did not come to the surface. + </p> + <p> + Then he darted across the mountain, falling among the stones, overcome by + the most frightful anguish that can wring a child's heart, and with a face + like death reached the sitting-room, where his parents were waiting. He + became bewildered again as he led them to the gloomy reservoir. He could + not find his way. At last he reached the spot. “It is there; yes, it + is there!” + </p> + <p> + But the cistern had to be emptied, and the proprietor would not permit it + as he needed the water for his lemon trees. + </p> + <p> + The two bodies were found, however, but not until the next day. + </p> + <p> + You see, my dear friend, that this is a simple news item. But if you had + seen the hole itself your heart would have been wrung, as mine was, at the + thought of the agony of that child hanging to his brother's hands, of the + long suspense of those little chaps who were accustomed only to laugh and + to play, and at the simple incident of the giving of the watch. + </p> + <p> + I said to myself: “May Fate preserve me from ever receiving a + similar relic!” I know of nothing more terrible than such a + recollection connected with a familiar object that one cannot dispose of. + Only think of it; each time that he handles this sacred watch the survivor + will picture once more the horrible scene; the pool, the wall, the still + water, and the distracted face of his brother-alive, and yet as lost as + though he were already dead. And all through his life, at any moment, the + vision will be there, awakened the instant even the tip of his finger + touches his watch pocket. + </p> + <p> + And I was sad until evening. I left the spot and kept on climbing, leaving + the region of orange trees for the region of olive trees, and the region + of olive trees for the region of pines; then I came to a valley of stones, + and finally reached the ruins of an ancient castle, built, they say, in + the tenth century by a Saracen chief, a good man, who was baptized a + Christian through love for a young girl. Everywhere around me were + mountains, and before me the sea, the sea with an almost imperceptible + patch on it: Corsica, or, rather, the shadow of Corsica. But on the + mountain summits, blood-red in the glow of the sunset, in the boundless + sky and on the sea, in all this superb landscape that I had come here to + admire I saw only two poor children, one lying prone on the edge of a hole + filled with black water, the other submerged to his neck, their hands + intertwined, weeping opposite each other, in despair. And it seemed as + though I continually heard a weak, exhausted voice saying: “Good-by, + little brother, I am going to give you my watch.” + </p> + <p> + This letter may seem rather melancholy, dear friend. I will try to be more + cheerful some other day. + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0210"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + A CREMATION + </h2> + <p> + Last Monday an Indian prince died at Etretat, Bapu Sahib Khanderao Ghatay, + a relation of His Highness, the Maharajah Gaikwar, prince of Baroda, in + the province of Guzerat, Presidency of Bombay. + </p> + <p> + For about three weeks there had been seen walking in the streets about ten + young East Indians, small, lithe, with dark skins, dressed all in gray and + wearing on their heads caps such as English grooms wear. They were men of + high rank who had come to Europe to study the military institutions of the + principal Western nations. The little band consisted of three princes, a + nobleman, an interpreter and three servants. + </p> + <p> + The head of the commission had just died, an old man of forty-two and + father-in-law of Sampatro Kashivao Gaikwar, brother of His Highness, the + Gaikwar of Baroda. + </p> + <p> + The son-in-law accompanied his father-in-law. + </p> + <p> + The other East Indians were called Ganpatrao Shravanrao Gaikwar, cousin of + His Highness Khasherao Gadhav; Vasudev Madhav Samarth, interpreter and + secretary; the slaves: Ramchandra Bajaji, Ganu bin Pukiram Kokate, + Rhambhaji bin Fabji. + </p> + <p> + On leaving his native land the one who died recently was overcome with + terrible grief, and feeling convinced that he would never return he wished + to give up the journey, but he had to obey the wishes of his noble + relative, the Prince of Baroda, and he set out. + </p> + <p> + They came to spend the latter part of the summer at Etretat, and people + would go out of curiosity every morning to see them taking their bath at + the Etablissment des Roches-Blanches. + </p> + <p> + Five or six days ago Bapu Sahib Khanderao Ghatay was taken with pains in + his gums; then the inflammation spread to the throat and became + ulceration. Gangrene set in and, on Monday, the doctors told his young + friends that their relative was dying. The final struggle was already + beginning, and the breath had almost left the unfortunate man's body when + his friends seized him, snatched him from his bed and laid him on the + stone floor of the room, so that, stretched out on the earth, our mother, + he should yield up his soul, according to the command of Brahma. + </p> + <p> + They then sent to ask the mayor, M. Boissaye, for a permit to burn the + body that very day so as to fulfill the prescribed ceremonial of the + Hindoo religion. The mayor hesitated, telegraphed to the prefecture to + demand instructions, at the same time sending word that a failure to reply + would be considered by him tantamount to a consent. As he had received no + reply at 9 o'clock that evening, he decided, in view of the infectious + character of the disease of which the East Indian had died, that the + cremation of the body should take place that very night, beneath the + cliff, on the beach, at ebb tide. + </p> + <p> + The mayor is being criticized now for this decision, though he acted as an + intelligent, liberal and determined man, and was upheld and advised by the + three physicians who had watched the case and reported the death. + </p> + <p> + They were dancing at the Casino that evening. It was an early autumn + evening, rather chilly. A pretty strong wind was blowing from the ocean, + although as yet there was no sea on, and swift, light, ragged clouds were + driving across the sky. They came from the edge of the horizon, looking + dark against the background of the sky, but as they approached the moon + they grew whiter and passed hurriedly across her face, veiling it for a + few seconds without completely hiding it. + </p> + <p> + The tall straight cliffs that inclose the rounded beach of Etretat and + terminate in two celebrated arches, called “the Gates,” lay in + shadow, and made two great black patches in the softly lighted landscape. + </p> + <p> + It had rained all day. + </p> + <p> + The Casino orchestra was playing waltzes, polkas and quadrilles. A rumor + was presently circulated among the groups of dancers. It was said that an + East Indian prince had just died at the Hotel des Bains and that the + ministry had been approached for permission to burn the body. No one + believed it, or at least no one supposed that such a thing could occur so + foreign was the custom as yet to our customs, and as the night was far + advanced every one went home. + </p> + <p> + At midnight, the lamplighter, running from street to street, extinguished, + one after another, the yellow jets of flame that lighted up the sleeping + houses, the mud and the puddles of water. We waited, watching for the hour + when the little town should be quiet and deserted. + </p> + <p> + Ever since noon a carpenter had been cutting up wood and asking himself + with amazement what was going to be done with all these planks sawn up + into little bits, and why one should destroy so much good merchandise. + This wood was piled up in a cart which went along through side streets as + far as the beach, without arousing the suspicion of belated persons who + might meet it. It went along on the shingle at the foot of the cliff, and + having dumped its contents on the beach the three Indian servants began to + build a funeral pile, a little longer than it was wide. They worked alone, + for no profane hand must aid in this solemn duty. + </p> + <p> + It was one o'clock in the morning when the relations of the deceased were + informed that they might accomplish their part of the work. + </p> + <p> + The door of the little house they occupied was open, and we perceived, + lying on a stretcher in the small, dimly lighted vestibule the corpse + covered with white silk. We could see him plainly as he lay stretched out + on his back, his outline clearly defined beneath this white veil. + </p> + <p> + The East Indians, standing at his feet, remained motionless, while one of + them performed the prescribed rites, murmuring unfamiliar words in a low, + monotonous tone. He walked round and round the corpse; touching it + occasionally, then, taking an urn suspended from three slender chains, he + sprinkled it for some time with the sacred water of the Ganges, that East + Indians must always carry with them wherever they go. + </p> + <p> + Then the stretcher was lifted by four of them who started off at a slow + march. The moon had gone down, leaving the muddy, deserted streets in + darkness, but the body on the stretcher appeared to be luminous, so + dazzlingly white was the silk, and it was a weird sight to see, passing + along through the night, the semi-luminous form of this corpse, borne by + those men, the dusky skin of whose faces and hands could scarcely be + distinguished from their clothing in the darkness. + </p> + <p> + Behind the corpse came three Indians, and then, a full head taller than + themselves and wrapped in an ample traveling coat of a soft gray color, + appeared the outline of an Englishman, a kind and superior man, a friend + of theirs, who was their guide and counselor in their European travels. + </p> + <p> + Beneath the cold, misty sky of this little northern beach I felt as if I + were taking part in a sort of symbolical drama. It seemed to me that they + were carrying there, before me, the conquered genius of India, followed, + as in a funeral procession, by the victorious genius of England robed in a + gray ulster. + </p> + <p> + On the shingly beach the four bearers halted a few moments to take breath, + and then proceeded on their way. They now walked quickly, bending beneath + the weight of their burden. At length they reached the funeral pile. It + was erected in an indentation, at the very foot of the cliff, which rose + above it perpendicularly a hundred meters high, perfectly white but + looking gray in the night. + </p> + <p> + The funeral pile was about three and a half feet high. The corpse was + placed on it and then one of the Indians asked to have the pole star + pointed out to him. This was done, and the dead Rajah was laid with his + feet turned towards his native country. Then twelve bottles of kerosene + were poured over him and he was covered completely with thin slabs of pine + wood. For almost another hour the relations and servants kept piling up + the funeral pyre which looked like one of those piles of wood that + carpenters keep in their yards. Then on top of this was poured the + contents of twenty bottles of oil, and on top of all they emptied a bag of + fine shavings. A few steps further on, a flame was glimmering in a little + bronze brazier, which had remained lighted since the arrival of the + corpse. + </p> + <p> + The moment had arrived. The relations went to fetch the fire. As it was + barely alight, some oil was poured on it, and suddenly a flame arose + lighting up the great wall of rock from summit to base. An Indian who was + leaning over the brazier rose upright, his two hands in the air, his + elbows bent, and all at once we saw arising, all black on the immense + white cliff, a colossal shadow, the shadow of Buddha in his hieratic + posture. And the little pointed toque that the man wore on his head even + looked like the head-dress of the god. + </p> + <p> + The effect was so striking and unexpected that I felt my heart beat as + though some supernatural apparition had risen up before me. + </p> + <p> + That was just what it was—the ancient and sacred image, come from + the heart of the East to the ends of Europe, and watching over its son + whom they were going to cremate there. + </p> + <p> + It vanished. They brought fire. The shavings on top of the pyre were + lighted and then the wood caught fire and a brilliant light illumined the + cliff, the shingle and the foam of the waves as they broke on the beach. + </p> + <p> + It grew brighter from second to second, lighting up on the sea in the + distance the dancing crest of the waves. + </p> + <p> + The breeze from the ocean blew in gusts, increasing the heat of the flame + which flattened down, twisted, then shot up again, throwing out millions + of sparks. They mounted with wild rapidity along the cliff and were lost + in the sky, mingling with the stars, increasing their number. Some sea + birds who had awakened uttered their plaintive cry, and, describing long + curves, flew, with their white wings extended, through the gleam from the + funeral pyre and then disappeared in the night. + </p> + <p> + Before long the pile of wood was nothing but a mass of flame, not red but + yellow, a blinding yellow, a furnace lashed by the wind. And, suddenly, + beneath a stronger gust, it tottered, partially crumbling as it leaned + towards the sea, and the corpse came to view, full length, blackened on + his couch of flame and burning with long blue flames: + </p> + <p> + The pile of wood having crumbled further on the right the corpse turned + over as a man does in bed. They immediately covered him with fresh wood + and the fire started up again more furiously than ever. + </p> + <p> + The East Indians, seated in a semi-circle on the shingle, looked out with + sad, serious faces. And the rest of us, as it was very cold, had drawn + nearer to the fire until the smoke and sparks came in our faces. There was + no odor save that of burning pine and petroleum. + </p> + <p> + Hours passed; day began to break. Toward five o'clock in the morning + nothing remained but a heap of ashes. The relations gathered them up, cast + some of them to the winds, some in the sea, and kept some in a brass vase + that they had brought from India. They then retired to their home to give + utterance to lamentations. + </p> + <p> + These young princes and their servants, by the employment of the most + inadequate appliances succeeded in carrying out the cremation of their + relation in the most perfect manner, with singular skill and remarkable + dignity. Everything was done according to ritual, according to the rigid + ordinances of their religion. Their dead one rests in peace. + </p> + <p> + The following morning at daybreak there was an indescribable commotion in + Etretat. Some insisted that they had burned a man alive, others that they + were trying to hide a crime, some that the mayor would be put in jail, + others that the Indian prince had succumbed to an attack of cholera. + </p> + <p> + The men were amazed, the women indignant. A crowd of people spent the day + on the site of the funeral pile, looking for fragments of bone in the + shingle that was still warm. They found enough bones to reconstruct ten + skeletons, for the farmers on shore frequently throw their dead sheep into + the sea. The finders carefully placed these various fragments in their + pocketbooks. But not one of them possesses a true particle of the Indian + prince. + </p> + <p> + That very night a deputy sent by the government came to hold an inquest. + He, however, formed an estimate of this singular case like a man of + intelligence and good sense. But what should he say in his report? + </p> + <p> + The East Indians declared that if they had been prevented in France from + cremating their dead they would have taken him to a freer country where + they could have carried out their customs. + </p> + <p> + Thus, I have seen a man cremated on a funeral pile, and it has given me a + wish to disappear in the same manner. + </p> + <p> + In this way everything ends at once. Man expedites the slow work of + nature, instead of delaying it by the hideous coffin in which one + decomposes for months. The flesh is dead, the spirit has fled. Fire which + purifies disperses in a few hours all that was a human being; it casts it + to the winds, converting it into air and ashes, and not into ignominious + corruption. + </p> + <p> + This is clean and hygienic. Putrefaction beneath the ground in a closed + box where the body becomes like pap, a blackened, stinking pap, has about + it something repugnant and disgusting. The sight of the coffin as it + descends into this muddy hole wrings one's heart with anguish. But the + funeral pyre which flames up beneath the sky has about it something grand, + beautiful and solemn. + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0211"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + MISTI + </h2> + <p> + I was very much interested at that time in a droll little woman. She was + married, of course, as I have a horror of unmarried flirts. What enjoyment + is there in making love to a woman who belongs to nobody and yet belongs + to any one? And, besides, morality aside, I do not understand love as a + trade. That disgusts me somewhat. + </p> + <p> + The especial attraction in a married woman to a bachelor is that she gives + him a home, a sweet, pleasant home where every one takes care of you and + spoils you, from the husband to the servants. One finds everything + combined there, love, friendship, even fatherly interest, bed and board, + all, in fact, that constitutes the happiness of life, with this + incalculable advantage, that one can change one's family from time to + time, take up one's abode in all kinds of society in turn: in summer, in + the country with the workman who rents you a room in his house; in winter + with the townsfolk, or even with the nobility, if one is ambitious. + </p> + <p> + I have another weakness; it is that I become attached to the husband as + well as the wife. I acknowledge even that some husbands, ordinary or + coarse as they may be, give me a feeling of disgust for their wives, + however charming they may be. But when the husband is intellectual or + charming I invariably become very much attached to him. I am careful if I + quarrel with the wife not to quarrel with the husband. In this way I have + made some of my best friends, and have also proved in many cases the + incontestable superiority of the male over the female in the human + species. The latter makes all sorts of trouble-scenes, reproaches, etc.; + while the former, who has just as good a right to complain, treats you, on + the contrary, as though you were the special Providence of his hearth. + </p> + <p> + Well, my friend was a quaint little woman, a brunette, fanciful, + capricious, pious, superstitious, credulous as a monk, but charming. She + had a way of kissing one that I never saw in any one else—but that + was not the attraction—and such a soft skin! It gave me intense + delight merely to hold her hands. And an eye—her glance was like a + slow caress, delicious and unending. Sometimes I would lean my head on her + knee and we would remain motionless, she leaning over me with that subtle, + enigmatic, disturbing smile that women have, while my eyes would be raised + to hers, drinking sweetly and deliciously into my heart, like a form of + intoxication, the glance of her limpid blue eyes, limpid as though they + were full of thoughts of love, and blue as though they were a heaven of + delights. + </p> + <p> + Her husband, inspector of some large public works, was frequently away + from home and left us our evenings free. Sometimes I spent them with her + lounging on the divan with my forehead on one of her knees; while on the + other lay an enormous black cat called “Misti,” whom she + adored. Our fingers would meet on the cat's back and would intertwine in + her soft silky fur. I felt its warm body against my cheek, trembling with + its eternal purring, and occasionally a paw would reach out and place on + my mouth, or my eyelid, five unsheathed claws which would prick my + eyelids, and then be immediately withdrawn. + </p> + <p> + Sometimes we would go out on what we called our escapades. They were very + innocent, however. They consisted in taking supper at some inn in the + suburbs, or else, after dining at her house or at mine, in making the + round of the cheap cafes, like students out for a lark. + </p> + <p> + We would go into the common drinking places and take our seats at the end + of the smoky den on two rickety chairs, at an old wooden table. A cloud of + pungent smoke, with which blended an odor of fried fish from dinner, + filled the room. Men in smocks were talking in loud tones as they drank + their petits verres, and the astonished waiter placed before us two cherry + brandies. + </p> + <p> + She, trembling, charmingly afraid, would raise her double black veil as + far as her nose, and then take up her glass with the enjoyment that one + feels at doing something delightfully naughty. Each cherry she swallowed + made her feel as if she had done something wrong, each swallow of the + burning liquor had on her the affect of a delicate and forbidden + enjoyment. + </p> + <p> + Then she would say to me in a low tone: “Let us go.” And we + would leave, she walking quickly with lowered head between the drinkers + who watched her going by with a look of displeasure. And as soon as we got + into the street she would give a great sigh of relief, as if we had + escaped some terrible danger. + </p> + <p> + Sometimes she would ask me with a shudder: + </p> + <p> + “Suppose they, should say something rude to me in those places, what + would you do?” “Why, I would defend you, parbleu!” I + would reply in a resolute manner. And she would squeeze my arm for + happiness, perhaps with a vague wish that she might be insulted and + protected, that she might see men fight on her account, even those men, + with me! + </p> + <p> + One evening as we sat at a table in a tavern at Montmartre, we saw an old + woman in tattered garments come in, holding in her hand a pack of dirty + cards. Perceiving a lady, the old woman at once approached us and offered + to tell my friend's fortune. Emma, who in her heart believed in + everything, was trembling with longing and anxiety, and she made a place + beside her for the old woman. + </p> + <p> + The latter, old, wrinkled, her eyes with red inflamed rings round them, + and her mouth without a single tooth in it, began to deal her dirty cards + on the table. She dealt them in piles, then gathered them up, and then + dealt them out again, murmuring indistinguishable words. Emma, turning + pale, listened with bated breath, gasping with anxiety and curiosity. + </p> + <p> + The fortune-teller broke silence. She predicted vague happenings: + happiness and children, a fair young man, a voyage, money, a lawsuit, a + dark man, the return of some one, success, a death. The mention of this + death attracted the younger woman's attention. “Whose death? When? + In what manner?” + </p> + <p> + The old woman replied: “Oh, as to that, these cards are not certain + enough. You must come to my place to-morrow; I will tell you about it with + coffee grounds which never make a mistake.” + </p> + <p> + Emma turned anxiously to me: + </p> + <p> + “Say, let us go there to-morrow. Oh, please say yes. If not, you + cannot imagine how worried I shall be.” + </p> + <p> + I began to laugh. + </p> + <p> + “We will go if you wish it, dearie.” + </p> + <p> + The old woman gave us her address. She lived on the sixth floor, in a + wretched house behind the Buttes-Chaumont. We went there the following + day. + </p> + <p> + Her room, an attic containing two chairs and a bed, was filled with + strange objects, bunches of herbs hanging from nails, skins of animals, + flasks and phials containing liquids of various colors. On the table a + stuffed black cat looked out of eyes of glass. He seemed like the demon of + this sinister dwelling. + </p> + <p> + Emma, almost fainting with emotion, sat down on a chair and exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “Oh, dear, look at that cat; how like it is to Misti.” + </p> + <p> + And she explained to the old woman that she had a cat “exactly like + that, exactly like that!” + </p> + <p> + The old woman replied gravely: + </p> + <p> + “If you are in love with a man, you must not keep it.” + </p> + <p> + Emma, suddenly filled with fear, asked: + </p> + <p> + “Why not?” + </p> + <p> + The old woman sat down familiarly beside her and took her hand. + </p> + <p> + “It was the undoing of my life,” she said. + </p> + <p> + My friend wanted to hear about it. She leaned against the old woman, + questioned her, begged her to tell. At length the woman agreed to do so. + </p> + <p> + “I loved that cat,” she said, “as one would love a + brother. I was young then and all alone, a seamstress. I had only him, + Mouton. One of the tenants had given it to me. He was as intelligent as a + child, and gentle as well, and he worshiped me, my dear lady, he worshiped + me more than one does a fetish. All day long he would sit on my lap + purring, and all night long on my pillow; I could feel his heart beating, + in fact. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I happened to make an acquaintance, a fine young man who was + working in a white-goods house. That went on for about three months on a + footing of mere friendship. But you know one is liable to weaken, it may + happen to any one, and, besides, I had really begun to love him. He was so + nice, so nice, and so good. He wanted us to live together, for economy's + sake. I finally allowed him to come and see me one evening. I had not made + up my mind to anything definite; oh, no! But I was pleased at the idea + that we should spend an hour together. + </p> + <p> + “At first he behaved very well, said nice things to me that made my + heart go pit-a-pat. And then he kissed me, madame, kissed me as one does + when they love. I remained motionless, my eyes closed, in a paroxysm of + happiness. But, suddenly, I felt him start violently and he gave a scream, + a scream that I shall never forget. I opened my eyes and saw that Mouton + had sprung at his face and was tearing the skin with his claws as if it + had been a linen rag. And the blood was streaming down like rain, madame. + </p> + <p> + “I tried to take the cat away, but he held on tight, scratching all + the time; and he bit me, he was so crazy. I finally got him and threw him + out of the window, which was open, for it was summer. + </p> + <p> + “When I began to bathe my poor friend's face, I noticed that his + eyes were destroyed, both his eyes! + </p> + <p> + “He had to go to the hospital. He died of grief at the end of a + year. I wanted to keep him with me and provide for him, but he would not + agree to it. One would have supposed that he hated me after the + occurrence. + </p> + <p> + “As for Mouton, his back was broken by the fall, The janitor picked + up his body. I had him stuffed, for in spite of all I was fond of him. If + he acted as he did it was because he loved me, was it not?” + </p> + <p> + The old woman was silent and began to stroke the lifeless animal whose + body trembled on its iron framework. + </p> + <p> + Emma, with sorrowful heart, had forgotten about the predicted death—or, + at least, she did not allude to it again, and she left, giving the woman + five francs. + </p> + <p> + As her husband was to return the following day, I did not go to the house + for several days. When I did go I was surprised at not seeing Misti. I + asked where he was. + </p> + <p> + She blushed and replied: + </p> + <p> + “I gave him away. I was uneasy.” + </p> + <p> + I was astonished. + </p> + <p> + “Uneasy? Uneasy? What about?” + </p> + <p> + She gave me a long kiss and said in a low tone: + </p> + <p> + “I was uneasy about your eyes, my dear.” + </p> +<div class='pre'> + Misti appeared in. Gil Blas of January 22, 1884, over the signature + of “MAUFRIGNEUSE.” + </div> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0212"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + MADAME HERMET + </h2> + <p> + Crazy people attract me. They live in a mysterious land of weird dreams, + in that impenetrable cloud of dementia where all that they have witnessed + in their previous life, all they have loved, is reproduced for them in an + imaginary existence, outside of all laws that govern the things of this + life and control human thought. + </p> + <p> + For them there is no such thing as the impossible, nothing is improbable; + fairyland is a constant quantity and the supernatural quite familiar. The + old rampart, logic; the old wall, reason; the old main stay of thought, + good sense, break down, fall and crumble before their imagination, set + free and escaped into the limitless realm of fancy, and advancing with + fabulous bounds, and nothing can check it. For them everything happens, + and anything may happen. They make no effort to conquer events, to + overcome resistance, to overturn obstacles. By a sudden caprice of their + flighty imagination they become princes, emperors, or gods, are possessed + of all the wealth of the world, all the delightful things of life, enjoy + all pleasures, are always strong, always beautiful, always young, always + beloved! They, alone, can be happy in this world; for, as far as they are + concerned, reality does not exist. I love to look into their wandering + intelligence as one leans over an abyss at the bottom of which seethes a + foaming torrent whose source and destination are both unknown. + </p> + <p> + But it is in vain that we lean over these abysses, for we shall never + discover the source nor the destination of this water. After all, it is + only water, just like what is flowing in the sunlight, and we shall learn + nothing by looking at it. + </p> + <p> + It is likewise of no use to ponder over the intelligence of crazy people, + for their most weird notions are, in fact, only ideas that are already + known, which appear strange simply because they are no longer under the + restraint of reason. Their whimsical source surprises us because we do not + see it bubbling up. Doubtless the dropping of a little stone into the + current was sufficient to cause these ebullitions. Nevertheless crazy + people attract me and I always return to them, drawn in spite of myself by + this trivial mystery of dementia. + </p> + <p> + One day as I was visiting one of the asylums the physician who was my + guide said: + </p> + <p> + “Come, I will show you an interesting case.” + </p> + <p> + And he opened the door of a cell where a woman of about forty, still + handsome, was seated in a large armchair, looking persistently at her face + in a little hand mirror. + </p> + <p> + As soon as she saw us she rose to her feet, ran to the other end of the + room, picked up a veil that lay on a chair, wrapped it carefully round her + face, then came back, nodding her head in reply to our greeting. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said the doctor, “how are you this morning?” + </p> + <p> + She gave a deep sigh. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, ill, monsieur, very ill. The marks are increasing every day.” + </p> + <p> + He replied in a tone of conviction: + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no; oh, no; I assure you that you are mistaken.” + </p> + <p> + She drew near to him and murmured: + </p> + <p> + “No. I am certain of it. I counted ten pittings more this morning, + three on the right cheek, four on the left cheek, and three on the + forehead. It is frightful, frightful! I shall never dare to let any one + see me, not even my son; no, not even him! I am lost, I am disfigured + forever.” + </p> + <p> + She fell back in her armchair and began to sob. + </p> + <p> + The doctor took a chair, sat down beside her, and said soothingly in a + gentle tone: + </p> + <p> + “Come, let me see; I assure you it is nothing. With a slight + cauterization I will make it all disappear.” + </p> + <p> + She shook her head in denial, without speaking. He tried to touch her + veil, but she seized it with both hands so violently that her fingers went + through it. + </p> + <p> + He continued to reason with her and reassure her. + </p> + <p> + “Come, you know very well that I remove those horrid pits every time + and that there is no trace of them after I have treated them. If you do + not let me see them I cannot cure you.” + </p> + <p> + “I do not mind your seeing them,” she murmured, “but I + do not know that gentleman who is with you.” + </p> + <p> + “He is a doctor also, who can give you better care than I can.” + </p> + <p> + She then allowed her face to be uncovered, but her dread, her emotion, her + shame at being seen brought a rosy flush to her face and her neck, down to + the collar of her dress. She cast down her eyes, turned her face aside, + first to the right; then to the left, to avoid our gaze and stammered out: + </p> + <p> + “Oh, it is torture to me to let myself be seen like this! It is + horrible, is it not? Is it not horrible?” + </p> + <p> + I looked at her in much surprise, for there was nothing on her face, not a + mark, not a spot, not a sign of one, nor a scar. + </p> + <p> + She turned towards me, her eyes still lowered, and said: + </p> + <p> + “It was while taking care of my son that I caught this fearful + disease, monsieur. I saved him, but I am disfigured. I sacrificed my + beauty to him, to my poor child. However, I did my duty, my conscience is + at rest. If I suffer it is known only to God.” + </p> + <p> + The doctor had drawn from his coat pocket a fine water-color paint brush. + </p> + <p> + “Let me attend to it,” he said, “I will put it all + right.” + </p> + <p> + She held out her right cheek, and he began by touching it lightly with the + brush here and there, as though he were putting little points of paint on + it. He did the same with the left cheek, then with the chin, and the + forehead, and then exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “See, there is nothing there now, nothing at all!” + </p> + <p> + She took up the mirror, gazed at her reflection with profound, eager + attention, with a strong mental effort to discover something, then she + sighed: + </p> + <p> + “No. It hardly shows at all. I am infinitely obliged to you.” + </p> + <p> + The doctor had risen. He bowed to her, ushered me out and followed me, + and, as soon as he had locked the door, said: + </p> + <p> + “Here is the history of this unhappy woman.” + </p> + <p> + Her name is Mme. Hermet. She was once very beautiful, a great coquette, + very much beloved and very much in-love with life. + </p> + <p> + She was one of those women who have nothing but their beauty and their + love of admiration to sustain, guide or comfort them in this life. The + constant anxiety to retain her freshness, the care of her complexion, of + her hands, her teeth, of every portion of body that was visible, occupied + all her time and all her attention. + </p> + <p> + She became a widow, with one son. The boy was brought up as are all + children of society beauties. She was, however, very fond of him. + </p> + <p> + He grew up, and she grew older. Whether she saw the fatal crisis + approaching, I cannot say. Did she, like so many others, gaze for hours + and hours at her skin, once so fine, so transparent and free from blemish, + now beginning to shrivel slightly, to be crossed with a thousand little + lines, as yet imperceptible, that will grow deeper day by day, month by + month? Did she also see slowly, but surely, increasing traces of those + long wrinkles on the forehead, those slender serpents that nothing can + check? Did she suffer the torture, the abominable torture of the mirror, + the little mirror with the silver handle which one cannot make up one's + mind to lay down on the table, but then throws down in disgust only to + take it up again in order to look more closely, and still more closely at + the hateful and insidious approaches of old age? Did she shut herself up + ten times, twenty times a day, leaving her friends chatting in the + drawing-room, and go up to her room where, under the protection of bolts + and bars, she would again contemplate the work of time on her ripe beauty, + now beginning to wither, and recognize with despair the gradual progress + of the process which no one else had as yet seemed to perceive, but of + which she, herself, was well aware. She knows where to seek the most + serious, the gravest traces of age. And the mirror, the little round + hand-glass in its carved silver frame, tells her horrible things; for it + speaks, it seems to laugh, it jeers and tells her all that is going to + occur, all the physical discomforts and the atrocious mental anguish she + will suffer until the day of her death, which will be the day of her + deliverance. + </p> + <p> + Did she weep, distractedly, on her knees, her forehead to the ground, and + pray, pray, pray to Him who thus slays his creatures and gives them youth + only that he may render old age more unendurable, and lends them beauty + only that he may withdraw it almost immediately? Did she pray to Him, + imploring Him to do for her what He has never yet done for any one, to let + her retain until her last day her charm, her freshness and her + gracefulness? Then, finding that she was imploring in vain an inflexible + Unknown who drives on the years, one after another, did she roll on the + carpet in her room, knocking her head against the furniture and stifling + in her throat shrieks of despair? + </p> + <p> + Doubtless she suffered these tortures, for this is what occurred: + </p> + <p> + One day (she was then thirty-five) her son aged fifteen, fell ill. + </p> + <p> + He took to his bed without any one being able to determine the cause or + nature of his illness. + </p> + <p> + His tutor, a priest, watched beside him and hardly ever left him, while + Mme. Hermet came morning and evening to inquire how he was. + </p> + <p> + She would come into the room in the morning in her night wrapper, smiling, + all powdered and perfumed, and would ask as she entered the door: + </p> + <p> + “Well, George, are you better?” + </p> + <p> + The big boy, his face red, swollen and showing the ravages of fever, would + reply: + </p> + <p> + “Yes, little mother, a little better.” + </p> + <p> + She would stay in the room a few seconds, look at the bottles of medicine, + and purse her lips as if she were saying “phew,” and then + would suddenly exclaim: “Oh, I forgot something very important,” + and would run out of the room leaving behind her a fragrance of choice + toilet perfumes. + </p> + <p> + In the evening she would appear in a decollete dress, in a still greater + hurry, for she was always late, and she had just time to inquire: + </p> + <p> + “Well, what does the doctor say?” + </p> + <p> + The priest would reply: + </p> + <p> + “He has not yet given an opinion, madame.” + </p> + <p> + But one evening the abbe replied: “Madame, your son has got the + small-pox.” + </p> + <p> + She uttered a scream of terror and fled from the room. + </p> + <p> + When her maid came to her room the following morning she noticed at once a + strong odor of burnt sugar, and she found her mistress, with wide-open + eyes, her face pale from lack of sleep, and shivering with terror in her + bed. + </p> + <p> + As soon as the shutters were opened Mme. Herrnet asked: + </p> + <p> + “How is George?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, not at all well to-day, madame.” + </p> + <p> + She did not rise until noon, when she ate two eggs with a cup of tea, as + if she herself had been ill, and then she went out to a druggist's to + inquire about prophylactic measures against the contagion of small-pox. + </p> + <p> + She did not come home until dinner time, laden with medicine bottles, and + shut herself up at once in her room, where she saturated herself with + disinfectants. + </p> + <p> + The priest was waiting for her in the dining-room. As soon as she saw him + she exclaimed in a voice full of emotion: + </p> + <p> + “Well?” + </p> + <p> + “No improvement. The doctor is very anxious:” + </p> + <p> + She began to cry and could eat nothing, she was so worried. + </p> + <p> + The next day, as soon as it was light, she sent to inquire for her son, + but there was no improvement and she spent the whole day in her room, + where little braziers were giving out pungent odors. Her maid said also + that you could hear her sighing all the evening. + </p> + <p> + She spent a whole week in this manner, only going out for an hour or two + during the afternoon to breathe the air. + </p> + <p> + She now sent to make inquiries every hour, and would sob when the reports + were unfavorable. + </p> + <p> + On the morning of the eleventh day the priest, having been announced, + entered her room, his face grave and pale, and said, without taking the + chair she offered him: + </p> + <p> + “Madame, your son is very ill and wishes to see you.” + </p> + <p> + She fell on her knees, exclaiming: + </p> + <p> + “Oh, my God! Oh, my God! I would never dare! My God! My God! Help + me!” + </p> + <p> + The priest continued: + </p> + <p> + “The doctor holds out little hope, madame, and George is expecting + you!” + </p> + <p> + And he left the room. + </p> + <p> + Two hours later as the young lad, feeling himself dying, again asked for + his mother, the abbe went to her again and found her still on her knees, + still weeping and repeating: + </p> + <p> + “I will not . . . . I will not. . . . I am too much afraid . . . . I + will not. . . .” + </p> + <p> + He tried to persuade her, to strengthen her, to lead her. He only + succeeded in bringing on an attack of “nerves” that lasted + some time and caused her to shriek. + </p> + <p> + The doctor when he came in the evening was told of this cowardice and + declared that he would bring her in himself, of her own volition, or by + force. But after trying all manner of argument and just as he seized her + round the waist to carry her into her son's room, she caught hold of the + door and clung to it so firmly that they could not drag her away. Then + when they let go of her she fell at the feet of the doctor, begging his + forgiveness and acknowledging that she was a wretched creature. And then + she exclaimed: “Oh, he is not going to die; tell me that he is not + going to die, I beg of you; tell him that I love him, that I worship him. + . .” + </p> + <p> + The young lad was dying. Feeling that he had only a few moments more to + live, he entreated that his mother be persuaded to come and bid him a last + farewell. With that sort of presentiment that the dying sometimes have, he + had understood, had guessed all, and he said: “If she is afraid to + come into the room, beg her just to come on the balcony as far as my + window so that I may see her, at least, so that I may take a farewell look + at her, as I cannot kiss her.” + </p> + <p> + The doctor and the abbe, once more, went together to this woman and + assured her: “You will run no risk, for there will be a pane of + glass between you and him.” + </p> + <p> + She consented, covered up her head, and took with her a bottle of smelling + salts. She took three steps on the balcony; then, all at once, hiding her + face in her hands, she moaned: “No . . . no . . . I would never dare + to look at him . . . never. . . . I am too much ashamed . . . too much + afraid . . . . No . . . I cannot.” + </p> + <p> + They endeavored to drag her along, but she held on with both hands to the + railings and uttered such plaints that the passers-by in the street raised + their heads. And the dying boy waited, his eyes turned towards that + window, waited to die until he could see for the last time the sweet, + beloved face, the worshiped face of his mother. + </p> + <p> + He waited long, and night came on. Then he turned over with his face to + the wall and was silent. + </p> + <p> + When day broke he was dead. The day following she was crazy. + </p> + <p> + <a id="2H_4_0213"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + THE MAGIC COUCH + </h2> + <p> + The Seine flowed past my house, without a ripple on its surface, and + gleaming in the bright morning sunlight. It was a beautiful, broad, + indolent silver stream, with crimson lights here and there; and on the + opposite side of the river were rows of tall trees that covered all the + bank with an immense wall of verdure. + </p> + <p> + The sensation of life which is renewed each day, of fresh, happy, loving + life trembled in the leaves, palpitated in the air, was mirrored in the + water. + </p> + <p> + The postman had just brought my papers, which were handed to me, and I + walked slowly to the river bank in order to read them. + </p> + <p> + In the first paper I opened I noticed this headline, “Statistics of + Suicides,” and I read that more than 8,500 persons had killed + themselves in that year. + </p> + <p> + In a moment I seemed to see them! I saw this voluntary and hideous + massacre of the despairing who were weary of life. I saw men bleeding, + their jaws fractured, their skulls cloven, their breasts pierced by a + bullet, slowly dying, alone in a little room in a hotel, giving no thought + to their wound, but thinking only of their misfortunes. + </p> + <p> + I saw others seated before a tumbler in which some matches were soaking, + or before a little bottle with a red label. + </p> + <p> + They would look at it fixedly without moving; then they would drink and + await the result; then a spasm would convulse their cheeks and draw their + lips together; their eyes would grow wild with terror, for they did not + know that the end would be preceded by so much suffering. + </p> + <p> + They rose to their feet, paused, fell over and with their hands pressed to + their stomachs they felt their internal organs on fire, their entrails + devoured by the fiery liquid, before their minds began to grow dim. + </p> + <p> + I saw others hanging from a nail in the wall, from the fastening of the + window, from a hook in the ceiling, from a beam in the garret, from a + branch of a tree amid the evening rain. And I surmised all that had + happened before they hung there motionless, their tongues hanging out of + their mouths. I imagined the anguish of their heart, their final + hesitation, their attempts to fasten the rope, to determine that it was + secure, then to pass the noose round their neck and to let themselves + fall. + </p> + <p> + I saw others lying on wretched beds, mothers with their little children, + old men dying of hunger, young girls dying for love, all rigid, + suffocated, asphyxiated, while in the center of the room the brasier still + gave forth the fumes of charcoal. + </p> + <p> + And I saw others walking at night along the deserted bridges. These were + the most sinister. The water flowed under the arches with a low sound. + They did not see it . . . they guessed at it from its cool breath! They + longed for it and they feared it. They dared not do it! And yet, they + must. A distant clock sounded the hour and, suddenly, in the vast silence + of the night, there was heard the splash of a body falling into the river, + a scream or two, the sound of hands beating the water, and all was still. + Sometimes, even, there was only the sound of the falling body when they + had tied their arms down or fastened a stone to their feet. Oh, the poor + things, the poor things, the poor things, how I felt their anguish, how I + died in their death! I went through all their wretchedness; I endured in + one hour all their tortures. I knew all the sorrows that had led them to + this, for I know the deceitful infamy of life, and no one has felt it more + than I have. + </p> + <p> + How I understood them, these who weak, harassed by misfortune, having lost + those they loved, awakened from the dream of a tardy compensation, from + the illusion of another existence where God will finally be just, after + having been ferocious, and their minds disabused of the mirages of + happiness, have given up the fight and desire to put an end to this + ceaseless tragedy, or this shameful comedy. + </p> + <p> + Suicide! Why, it is the strength of those whose strength is exhausted, the + hope of those who no longer believe, the sublime courage of the conquered! + Yes, there is at least one door to this life we can always open and pass + through to the other side. Nature had an impulse of pity; she did not shut + us up in prison. Mercy for the despairing! + </p> + <p> + As for those who are simply disillusioned, let them march ahead with free + soul and quiet heart. They have nothing to fear since they may take their + leave; for behind them there is always this door that the gods of our + illusions cannot even lock. + </p> + <p> + I thought of this crowd of suicides: more than eight thousand five hundred + in one year. And it seemed to me that they had combined to send to the + world a prayer, to utter a cry of appeal, to demand something that should + come into effect later when we understood things better. It seemed to me + that all these victims, their throats cut, poisoned, hung, asphyxiated, or + drowned, all came together, a frightful horde, like citizens to the polls, + to say to society: + </p> + <p> + “Grant us, at least, a gentle death! Help us to die, you who will + not help us to live! See, we are numerous, we have the right to speak in + these days of freedom, of philosophic independence and of popular + suffrage. Give to those who renounce life the charity of a death that will + not be repugnant nor terrible.” + </p> + <p> + I began to dream, allowing my fancy to roam at will in weird and + mysterious fashion on this subject. + </p> + <p> + I seemed to be all at once in a beautiful city. It was Paris; but at what + period? I walked about the streets, looking at the houses, the theaters, + the public buildings, and presently found myself in a square where I + remarked a large building; very handsome, dainty and attractive. I was + surprised on reading on the facade this inscription in letters of gold, + “Suicide Bureau.” + </p> + <p> + Oh, the weirdness of waking dreams where the spirit soars into a world of + unrealities and possibilities! Nothing astonishes one, nothing shocks one; + and the unbridled fancy makes no distinction between the comic and the + tragic. + </p> + <p> + I approached the building where footmen in knee-breeches were seated in + the vestibule in front of a cloak-room as they do at the entrance of a + club. + </p> + <p> + I entered out of curiosity. One of the men rose and said: + </p> + <p> + “What does monsieur wish?” + </p> + <p> + “I wish to know what building this is.” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing more?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, no.” + </p> + <p> + “Then would monsieur like me to take him to the Secretary of the + Bureau?” + </p> + <p> + I hesitated, and asked: + </p> + <p> + “But will not that disturb him?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no, monsieur, he is here to receive those who desire + information.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, lead the way.” + </p> + <p> + He took me through corridors where old gentlemen were chatting, and + finally led me into a beautiful office, somewhat somber, furnished + throughout in black wood. A stout young man with a corporation was writing + a letter as he smoked a cigar, the fragrance of which gave evidence of its + quality. + </p> + <p> + He rose. We bowed to each other, and as soon as the footman had retired he + asked: + </p> + <p> + “What can I do for you?” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur,” I replied, “pardon my curiosity. I had never + seen this establishment. The few words inscribed on the facade filled me + with astonishment, and I wanted to know what was going on here.” + </p> + <p> + He smiled before replying, then said in a low tone with a complacent air: + </p> + <p> + “Mon Dieu, monsieur, we put to death in a cleanly and gentle—I + do not venture to say agreeable manner those persons who desire to die.” + </p> + <p> + I did not feel very shocked, for it really seemed to me natural and right. + What particularly surprised me was that on this planet, with its low, + utilitarian, humanitarian ideals, selfish and coercive of all true + freedom, any one should venture on a similar enterprise, worthy of an + emancipated humanity. + </p> + <p> + “How did you get the idea?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur,” he replied, “the number of suicides + increased so enormously during the five years succeeding the world + exposition of 1889 that some measures were urgently needed. People killed + themselves in the streets, at fetes, in restaurants, at the theater, in + railway carriages, at the receptions held by the President of the + Republic, everywhere. It was not only a horrid sight for those who love + life, as I do, but also a bad example for children. Hence it became + necessary to centralize suicides.” + </p> + <p> + “What caused this suicidal epidemic?” + </p> + <p> + “I do not know. The fact is, I believe, the world is growing old. + People begin to see things clearly and they are getting disgruntled. It is + the same to-day with destiny as with the government, we have found out + what it is; people find that they are swindled in every direction, and + they just get out of it all. When one discovers that Providence lies, + cheats, robs, deceives human beings just as a plain Deputy deceives his + constituents, one gets angry, and as one cannot nominate a fresh + Providence every three months as we do with our privileged + representatives, one just gets out of the whole thing, which is decidedly + bad.” + </p> + <p> + “Really!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, as for me, I am not complaining.” + </p> + <p> + “Will you inform me how you carry on this establishment?” + </p> + <p> + “With pleasure. You may become a member when you please. It is a + club.” + </p> + <p> + “A club!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, monsieur, founded by the most eminent men in the country, by + men of the highest intellect and brightest intelligence. And,” he + added, laughing heartily, “I swear to you that every one gets a + great deal of enjoyment out of it.” + </p> + <p> + “In this place?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, in this place.” + </p> + <p> + “You surprise me.” + </p> + <p> + “Mon Dieu, they enjoy themselves because they have not that fear of + death which is the great killjoy in all our earthly pleasures.” + </p> + <p> + “But why should they be members of this club if they do not kill + themselves?” + </p> + <p> + “One may be a member of the club without being obliged for that + reason to commit suicide.” + </p> + <p> + “But then?” + </p> + <p> + “I will explain. In view of the enormous increase in suicides, and + of the hideous spectacle they presented, a purely benevolent society was + formed for the protection of those in despair, which placed at their + disposal the facilities for a peaceful, painless, if not unforeseen death.” + </p> + <p> + “Who can have authorized such an institution?” + </p> + <p> + “General Boulanger during his brief tenure of power. He could never + refuse anything. However, that was the only good thing he did. Hence, a + society was formed of clear-sighted, disillusioned skeptics who desired to + erect in the heart of Paris a kind of temple dedicated to the contempt for + death. This place was formerly a dreaded spot that no one ventured to + approach. Then its founders, who met together here, gave a grand inaugural + entertainment with Mmes. Sarah Bernhardt, Judic, Theo, Granier, and twenty + others, and Mme. de Reske, Coquelin, Mounet-Sully, Paulus, etc., present, + followed by concerts, the comedies of Dumas, of Meilhac, Halevy and + Sardon. We had only one thing to mar it, one drama by Becque which seemed + sad, but which subsequently had a great success at the Comedie-Francaise. + In fact all Paris came. The enterprise was launched.” + </p> + <p> + “In the midst of the festivities! What a funereal joke!” + </p> + <p> + “Not at all. Death need not be sad, it should be a matter of + indifference. We made death cheerful, crowned it with flowers, covered it + with perfume, made it easy. One learns to aid others through example; one + can see that it is nothing.” + </p> + <p> + “I can well understand that they should come to the entertainments; + but did they come to . . . Death?” + </p> + <p> + “Not at first; they were afraid.” + </p> + <p> + “And later?” + </p> + <p> + “They came.” + </p> + <p> + “Many of them?” + </p> + <p> + “In crowds. We have had more than forty in a day. One finds hardly + any more drowned bodies in the Seine.” + </p> + <p> + “Who was the first?” + </p> + <p> + “A club member.” + </p> + <p> + “As a sacrifice to the cause?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't think so. A man who was sick of everything, a 'down and + out' who had lost heavily at baccarat for three months.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed?” + </p> + <p> + “The second was an Englishman, an eccentric. We then advertised in + the papers, we gave an account of our methods, we invented some attractive + instances. But the great impetus was given by poor people.” + </p> + <p> + “How do you go to work?” + </p> + <p> + “Would you like to see? I can explain at the same time.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, indeed.” + </p> + <p> + He took his hat, opened the door, allowed me to precede him, and we + entered a card room, where men sat playing as they, play in all gambling + places. They were chatting cheerfully, eagerly. I have seldom seen such a + jolly, lively, mirthful club. + </p> + <p> + As I seemed surprised, the secretary said: + </p> + <p> + “Oh, the establishment has an unheard of prestige. All the smart + people all over the world belong to it so as to appear as though they held + death in scorn. Then, once they get here, they feel obliged to be cheerful + that they may not appear to be afraid. So they joke and laugh and talk + flippantly, they are witty and they become so. At present it is certainly + the most frequented and the most entertaining place in Paris. The women + are even thinking of building an annex for themselves.” + </p> + <p> + “And, in spite of all this, you have many suicides in the house?” + </p> + <p> + “As I said, about forty or fifty a day. Society people are rare, but + poor devils abound. The middle class has also a large contingent. + </p> + <p> + “And how . . . do they do?” + </p> + <p> + “They are asphyxiated . . . very slowly.” + </p> + <p> + “In what manner?” + </p> + <p> + “A gas of our own invention. We have the patent. On the other side + of the building are the public entrances—three little doors opening + on small streets. When a man or a woman present themselves they are + interrogated. Then they are offered assistance, aid, protection. If a + client accepts, inquiries are made; and sometimes we have saved their + lives.” + </p> + <p> + “Where do you get your money?” + </p> + <p> + “We have a great deal. There are a large number of shareholders. + Besides it is fashionable to contribute to the establishment. The names of + the donors are published in Figaro. Then the suicide of every rich man + costs a thousand francs. And they look as if they were lying in state. It + costs the poor nothing.” + </p> + <p> + “How can you tell who is poor?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, oh, monsieur, we can guess! And, besides, they must bring a + certificate of indigency from the commissary of police of their district. + If you knew how distressing it is to see them come in! I visited their + part of our building once only, and I will never go again. The place + itself is almost as good as this part, almost as luxurious and + comfortable; but they themselves . . . they themselves!!! If you could see + them arriving, the old men in rags coming to die; persons who have been + dying of misery for months, picking up their food at the edges of the + curbstone like dogs in the street; women in rags, emaciated, sick, + paralyzed, incapable of making a living, who say to us after they have + told us their story: 'You see that things cannot go on like that, as I + cannot work any longer or earn anything.' I saw one woman of eighty-seven + who had lost all her children and grandchildren, and who for the last six + weeks had been sleeping out of doors. It made me ill to hear of it. Then + we have so many different cases, without counting those who say nothing, + but simply ask: 'Where is it?' These are admitted at once and it is all + over in a minute.” + </p> + <p> + With a pang at my heart I repeated: + </p> + <p> + “And . . . where is it?” + </p> + <p> + “Here,” and he opened a door, adding: + </p> + <p> + “Go in; this is the part specially reserved for club members, and + the one least used. We have so far had only eleven annihilations here.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! You call that an . . . annihilation!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, monsieur. Go in.” + </p> + <p> + I hesitated. At length I went in. It was a wide corridor, a sort of + greenhouse in which panes of glass of pale blue, tender pink and delicate + green gave the poetic charm of landscapes to the inclosing walls. In this + pretty salon there were divans, magnificent palms, flowers, especially + roses of balmy fragrance, books on the tables, the Revue des Deuxmondes, + cigars in government boxes, and, what surprised me, Vichy pastilles in a + bonbonniere. + </p> + <p> + As I expressed my surprise, my guide said: + </p> + <p> + “Oh, they often come here to chat.” He continued: “The + public corridors are similar, but more simply furnished.” + </p> + <p> + In reply to a question of mine, he pointed to a couch covered with creamy + crepe de Chine with white embroidery, beneath a large shrub of unknown + variety at the foot of which was a circular bed of mignonette. + </p> + <p> + The secretary added in a lower tone: + </p> + <p> + “We change the flower and the perfume at will, for our gas, which is + quite imperceptible, gives death the fragrance of the suicide's favorite + flower. It is volatilized with essences. Would you like to inhale it for a + second?” + </p> + <p> + “'No, thank you,” I said hastily, “not yet . . . .” + </p> + <p> + He began to laugh. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, monsieur, there is no danger. I have tried it myself several + times.” + </p> + <p> + I was afraid he would think me a coward, and I said: + </p> + <p> + “Well, I'll try it.” + </p> + <p> + “Stretch yourself out on the 'endormeuse.”' + </p> + <p> + A little uneasy I seated myself on the low couch covered with crepe de + Chine and stretched myself full length, and was at once bathed in a + delicious odor of mignonette. I opened my mouth in order to breathe it in, + for my mind had already become stupefied and forgetful of the past and was + a prey, in the first stages of asphyxia, to the enchanting intoxication of + a destroying and magic opium. + </p> + <p> + Some one shook me by the arm. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, oh, monsieur,” said the secretary, laughing, “it + looks to me as if you were almost caught.” + </p> + <p> + But a voice, a real voice, and no longer a dream voice, greeted me with + the peasant intonation: + </p> + <p> + “Good morning, m'sieu. How goes it?” + </p> + <p> + My dream was over. I saw the Seine distinctly in the sunlight, and, coming + along a path, the garde champetre of the district, who with his right hand + touched his kepi braided in silver. I replied: + </p> + <p> + “Good morning, Marinel. Where are you going?” + </p> + <p> + “I am going to look at a drowned man whom they fished up near the + Morillons. Another who has thrown himself into the soup. He even took off + his trousers in order to tie his legs together with them.” + </p> + +<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK COMPLETE ORIGINAL SHORT STORIES OF GUY DE MAUPASSANT ***</div> + </body> +</html> diff --git a/3090-h/images/MAUP.jpg b/3090-h/images/MAUP.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..1629c9e --- /dev/null +++ b/3090-h/images/MAUP.jpg diff --git a/3090-h/images/cover.jpg b/3090-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..db1c4fd --- /dev/null +++ b/3090-h/images/cover.jpg diff --git a/3090-h/images/enlarge.jpg b/3090-h/images/enlarge.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..5a9bcf3 --- /dev/null +++ b/3090-h/images/enlarge.jpg diff --git a/3090-h/images/maup.jpg b/3090-h/images/maup.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..1629c9e --- /dev/null +++ b/3090-h/images/maup.jpg |
