diff options
Diffstat (limited to '33867.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | 33867.txt | 9670 |
1 files changed, 9670 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/33867.txt b/33867.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..942acde --- /dev/null +++ b/33867.txt @@ -0,0 +1,9670 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of King of Camargue, by Jean Aicard + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: King of Camargue + +Author: Jean Aicard + +Illustrator: Louis V. Ruet + George Roux + +Translator: George B. Ives + +Release Date: October 16, 2010 [EBook #33867] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK KING OF CAMARGUE *** + + + + +Produced by Audrey Longhurst, Sam W. and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + + BIBLIOTHEQUE + DES CHEFS-D'OEUVRE + DU ROMAN + CONTEMPORAIN + + + _KING OF CAMARGUE_ + + + JEAN AICARD + + + PRINTED FOR SUBSCRIBERS ONLY BY + GEORGE BARRIE & SONS, PHILADELPHIA + + + COPYRIGHT, 1901, BY GEORGE BARRIE & SON + + + + THIS EDITION OF + + KING OF CAMARGUE + + HAS BEEN COMPLETELY TRANSLATED + BY + + GEORGE B. IVES + + + THE ETCHINGS ARE BY + + LOUIS V. RUET + + + AND DRAWINGS BY + + GEORGE ROUX + + + + + CHEFS-D'OEUVRE + DU + ROMAN CONTEMPORAIN + + + ROMANCISTS + + + + + THIS EDITION + + DEDICATED TO THE HONOR OF THE + + ACADEMIE FRANCAISE + + IS LIMITED TO ONE THOUSAND NUMBERED AND REGISTERED + SETS, OF WHICH THIS IS + + NUMBER 358 + + + + + THE ROMANCISTS + + JEAN AICARD + + KING OF CAMARGUE + + + + + [Illustration: Chapter VI + + _This woman had a way of looking at people that disconcerted + them. You would say that a sharp, threatening flame shot from + her eyes. It penetrated your being, searched your heart, and + you were powerless against it._] + + + + +TO EMILE TRELAT + + +My Very Dear Friend: + +Permit me to dedicate this book to you, whose incomparable friendship +has been to the poet, obstinate in his idealism, of hourly assistance, +a constant proof of the reality of true generosity and kindness of +heart. + + Jean Aicard. + + _La Garde, near Toulon, April 11, 1890._ + + + + +Contents + + + PAGE + I LIVETTE AND ZINZARA 3 + + II IN CAMARGUE 13 + + III THE DROVERS 21 + + IV THE SEDEN 27 + + V THE LOVERS 39 + + VI RAMPAL 51 + + VII THE MEETING 57 + + VIII ON THE BENCH 73 + + IX THE PRAYER 83 + + X THE TERRACE 91 + + XI THE HIDING-PLACE 99 + + XII A SORCERESS 121 + + XIII THE SNAKE-CHARMER 143 + + XIV JOUSTING 165 + + XV MONSIEUR LE CURE'S ARCHAEOLOGY 177 + + XVI ON THE ROOF OF THE CHURCH 205 + + XVII THE OLD WOMAN 219 + + XVIII THE BLESSED RELICS 231 + + XIX THE BRANDING 247 + + XX THE SNARE 261 + + XXI HERODIAS 279 + + XXII IN THE NEST 291 + + XXIII THE PURSUIT 303 + + XXIV IN THE GARGATE 323 + + XXV THE PHANTOM 331 + + NOTES 345 + + + + +List of Illustrations + +KING OF CAMARGUE + + + PAGE + RAMPAL AND THE GIPSY _Fronts._ + + RENAUD IN THE TOILS OF THE QUEEN 64 + + LIVETTE AND RENAUD 88 + + LIVETTE WATCHES ON THE CHURCH ROOF 216 + + THE GIPSY'S COUCH 312 + + + + +KING OF CAMARGUE + + + + +I + +LIVETTE AND ZINZARA + + +A shadow suddenly darkened the narrow window. Livette, who was running +hither and thither, setting the table for supper, in the lower room of +the farm-house of the Chateau d'Avignon, gave a little shriek of +terror, and looked up. + +The girl had an instinctive feeling that it was neither father nor +grandmother, nor any of her dear ones, but some stranger, who sought +amusement by thus taking her by surprise. + +Nor a stranger, either, for that matter,--it was hardly possible!--But +how was it that the dogs did not yelp? Ah! this Camargue is frequented +by bad people, especially at this season, toward the end of May, on +account of the festival of Saintes-Maries-de-la-Mer, which attracts, +like a fair, such a crowd of people, thieves and gulls, and so many +mischievous gipsies! + +The figure that was leaning on the outside of the window-sill, +shutting out the light, looked to Livette like a black mass, sharply +outlined against the blue sky; but by the thick, curly hair, +surmounted by a tinsel crown, by the general contour of the bust, by +the huge ear-rings with an amulet hanging at the ends, Livette +recognized a certain gipsy woman who was universally known as the +Queen, and who, for nearly two weeks, had been suddenly appearing to +people at widely distant points on the island, always unexpectedly, as +if she rose out of the ditches or clumps of thorn-broom or the water +of the swamps, to say to the laborers, preferably the women: "Give me +this or that;" for the Queen, as a general rule, would not accept what +people chose to offer her, but only what she chose that they should +offer her. + +"Give me a little oil in a bottle, Livette," said the young gipsy, +darting a dark, flashing glance at the pretty girl with the fair, +sun-flecked hair. + +Livette, charitable as she was at every opportunity, at once felt that +she must be on her guard against this vagabond, who knew her name. Her +father and grandmother had gone to Arles, to see the notary, who would +soon have to be drawing up the papers for her marriage to Renaud, the +handsomest drover in all Camargue. She was alone in the house. +Distrust gave her strength to refuse. + +"Our Camargue isn't an olive country," said she curtly, "oil is scarce +here. I haven't any." + +"But I see some in the jar at the bottom of the cupboard, beside the +water-pitcher." + +Livette turned hastily toward the cupboard. It was closed; but, in +truth, the stock of olive oil was there in a jar beside the one in +which they kept Rhone water for their daily needs. + +"I don't know what you mean," said Livette. + +"The lie came from your mouth like a vile black wasp from a +garden-flower, little one!" said the motionless figure, still leaning +heavily on the window-sill, evidently determined to remain. "The oil +is where I say it is, and more than twenty-five litres too; I can see +it from here. Come, come, take a clean bottle and the tin funnel and +give me quickly what I want. I'll tell you, in exchange, what I see in +your future." + +"It's a deadly sin to seek to know what God doesn't wish us to know," +said Livette, "and you can guess that oil is kept in cupboards and +still be no more of a sorceress than I am. Go about your business, +good-wife. I can give you some of this bread, fresh baked last night, +if you wish, but I tell you I haven't any oil." + +"And why do they call you Livette," said the Queen calmly, "if it +isn't on account of the field of old olive-trees--the oldest and +finest in the country--owned by your father, near Avignon? There you +were born. There you remained until you were ten years old, and at +that age--seven years ago, a mystic number--you came here, where your +father was made farmer, overseer of drovers, manager of everything, by +the Avignonese master of this 'Chateau d'Avignon,' the finest in all +Camargue.--'Livettes! livettes!' that's the way you used to ask for +_olivettes_, olives, when you were a baby. You were very fond of them, +and the nickname clung to you. A pretty nickname, on my word, and one +that suits you well, for if you're not dark like the ripe olive, +you're fair as the virgin oil, a pearl of amber in the sunlight, and +then you are not yet ripe. Your face is oval, and not stupidly round +like a Norman apple. You have the pallor of the olive-leaves seen from +below.--And that you may soon see them so, little one, is the blessing +I ask for you, as the cures of your chapels say, where they take us in +for pity. Be compassionate as they are, in the name of your Lord Jesus +Christ, and give me some oil quickly, I say--in the name of extreme +unction and the garden of agony!" + +The gipsy had said all this without stopping to breathe, in a dull, +monotonous, muffled voice, but she added abruptly in loud, piercing, +incisive tones: "Do you understand what I say?" imparting to those +simple words an extraordinarily imperious and violent expression. +Livette hastily crossed herself. + +"Come, enough of this!" said she, "I have nothing here for you, and we +keep the oil of extreme unction for better Christians! Begone, pagan, +begone!" she added, trying to counterfeit courage. + +"Of the three holy women," continued the gipsy, "who took ship, after +the death of Jesus Christ, to escape the crucifying Jews, one was +like myself, an Egyptian and a fortune-teller. She knew the science of +the Magi, of those with whom great Moses contended for mastery in +witchcraft. She could, at will, order the frogs to be more numerous +than the drops of water in the swamps, and she held in her hand a rod +which, at her word, would change to a viper. Before Jesus she bowed, +as did Magdalen, and Jesus loved her too. In the tempest, as they were +crossing the sea, her wand pointed out the course to follow, and, to +do that with safety, had no need to be very long. Must you have more +pledges of my power and my knowledge? What more must I tell you to +induce you to give me the oil I need so much? If you were a man, I +would say: 'Look! I am dark, but I am beautiful! I am a descendant of +that Sara the Egyptian who, when the boat of the three holy women drew +near the sands of Camargue, paid the boatman by showing him her +undefiled body, stripped naked, with no thought of evil and without +sin, but knowing well that true beauty is rare and that the mere sight +of it is better than all the treasures of Solomon. So be it!'" + +Livette was thoroughly alarmed. The gipsy's assurance, her hollow, +penetrating voice, imperious by fits and starts, these strange tales +filled with evil words on sacred subjects, this devilish mixture of +things pagan and things mystic, the consciousness of her own +loneliness, all combined to terrify her. She lost her head. + +"Away with you, away with you," she cried, "queen of robbers! queen +of brigands! away with you, or I will call for help!" + +"Your drover won't hear you; he's tending his drove to-day beside the +Vaccares. Come, give me the oil, I say, or I'll throw this black wand +on the ground, and you will see how snakes bite!" + +But Livette, brave and determined, said: "No!" shuddering as she said +it, and, to glean a little comfort, cast a glance at the low beam +along which her father's gun was hanging. The gipsy saw the glance. + +"Oh! I am not afraid of your gun," said she, "and to prove it--wait a +moment!" + +She left the window. The light streamed into the room, bringing a +little courage to Livette's terrified heart, as she followed the gipsy +with her eyes. In the bright light of that beautiful May evening, the +gipsy woman stood out, a tall figure, against the distant, unbroken +horizon line of the Camargue desert, which could be seen through a +vista between the lofty trees of the park. + +Livette felt a thrill of joy as she saw a troop of mares trotting +along the horizon, followed by their driver, spear in air--Jacques +Renaud, her fiance, without doubt.--But how far away he was! the +horses, from where she stood, looked smaller than a flock of little +goats. And her eyes came back to the gipsy queen. A few steps from the +farm-house, in front of the seigniorial chateau, a huge square +structure, with numerous windows, long closed,--a structure of the +sort that arouses thoughts of neglect and death and the grave,--the +gipsy stood on tiptoe, drawing down the lowest branch of a thorn-tree. +The thorns were long, as long as one's finger. With a twig of a tree +of that species the crown of the Crucified One was made. + +She broke off a twig thickset with thorns, bent it into a circle, +twisting the two ends together like serpents, and returned to the +window. + +Livette noticed at that moment that the two watch-dogs were following +the gipsy, with their tails between their legs, their noses close to +her heels, with little affectionate whines. And she, the gipsy Queen, +as slender as haughty, erect upon her legs, in a ragged skirt with +ample folds through the holes in which could be seen a bright red +petticoat, her bust enveloped in orange-colored rags crossed below her +well-rounded breasts, her amulets tinkling at her ears, medallions +jangling on her forehead, which was encircled by a gaudy fillet of +copper,--she, the Queen, came forward, holding in her hand the crown +of long stiff thorns, to which a few tiny green leaves clung in +quivering festoons;--and in a low, very low tone, she murmured the +same caressing plaint that the two great cowed dogs were murmuring, +saying to them, in their own language, mysterious things they +understood. + +"Take this," said the gipsy, "let your kind heart be rewarded as it +deserves! Misfortune, which is at work for you, will soon make itself +known to you. How, may God tell you! In love, the wind that blows for +you is poisoned by the swamps. The charity your God enjoins is, so +they say, another form of love that brings true love good fortune. And +here is my queenly gift!" + +She threw the crown of thorns through the window at Livette's feet. + +"Madame!" exclaimed Livette in dismay. + +But the gipsy had disappeared. + +Infinite distress filled the poor child's heart. With her eyes fixed +on the crown, Livette recalled the legends in which the good Lord +Jesus appears disguised as a beggar--and in which He rewards those who +have received Him with sweet compassion. + +In one of those legends, the Poor Man, welcomed with harsh words, +subjected to mockery and cowardly insults, struck with staves and +goblets and bottles thrown by drunken revellers--at last, standing +against the wall, begins to be transformed into a Christ upon the +Cross, bleeding at the holes in his hands and feet!--And, sick with +terror, she asked herself if she had not received with unkindness one +of the three holy women who, after the death of Jesus, crossed the sea +in a boat to the shores of Camargue, using their skirts for sails, and +assisted by the oars of a boatman, whom one of their number, Sara the +Egyptian, paid in heathen coin, by allowing him to see, as the price +of a Christian action, her undefiled body, entirely naked, upon the +self-same spot on which the church stands to-day. + +Slowly she picked up the crown and threw it into the fire over which +the soup was stewing. Before it melted into ashes, the crown of thorns +seemed for a moment to be pure gold. + + + + +II + +IN CAMARGUE + + +Every year, at Saintes-Maries-de-la-Mer, the village that stands at +the southern end of Camargue, above the marshes, on a sand beach, the +line of which is constantly changed by the action of the waves and +high winds, every year, the feast of Saintes-Maries is celebrated on +May 24th; and at the time of that festival the gipsies flock to +Camargue in large numbers, impelled by a curious sort of piety, +mingled with a desire to pilfer the pilgrims. + +Legends, like trees, spring from the soil,--are its expression, so to +speak. They are also its essence. At every step in Camargue, you find +the everlasting legend of the holy women, just as you everlastingly +see there the same tamarisk-trees, confused, against the horizon, with +the same mirages. + +The two Marys, so runs the legend, Jacobe, Salome, and--according to +some authorities--Magdalen, and with them their bondwomen, Marcella +and Sara, adrift on the sea in a boat without masts or sails, pursued +by the accursed Jews, after the Saviour's death, spread to the breeze +strips of their skirts and their long, thin veils, and the wind +carried them to this beach at Camargue. + +There a church was built. The sacred bones, found by King Rene, were +enclosed in a reliquary, which has never ceased to perform miracles. +And every year, from every corner of Provence, from the Comtat and +from Languedoc, the last of the believers throng to the spot, bringing +their aspirations and their prayers, dragging with them their sick +friends and kindred, or their own wretchedness, their wounds and their +lamentations. + +Nothing more strange can be imagined than this land of desolation, +traversed every year by a multitude of cripples on their way to hope! + +From afar, at the end of the desert tract, can be seen the +battlemented church that tells of the wars of long ago, of Saracen +invasions, of the precarious life led by the poor in the Middle Ages. +It stands there with its turrets and its bell-tower, which, like the +stumps of gigantic masts, tower above the cluster of houses grouped +about it; and the village, cut at about mid-height of the lower houses +by the horizon line of the sea, seems drifting like a phantom ship +among the billows of sand, like the boat of the holy women of the +olden time, doomed to founder at last in the desolation of the desert. + +In this Camargue everything is strange. There are ponds like the huge +central pond, the Vaccares, in the centre of which one can wade with +ease; there are tracts of land where the pedestrian sinks out of sight +and is drowned. Here deception is easy. Yonder green slime that you +take for a level plain--beware!--men are drowned therein; those vast +stretches of water which seem to you small seas--return that way +to-morrow; they will have evaporated, leaving only a mirror of white +salt that crackles beneath your feet. Yonder, do you see the calm, +deep water? and trees on the shore? Ah! no, you can run along the +surface of that water; it is dry land; the mirage alone formed those +trees, just as it showed you the little child walking a league away, +apparently near at hand and very tall. A land of visions, dreams, and +hard work. A land of sedentary folk, who inhabit a vast space on the +shore of endless waters, with an infinity of variations of mirages, +sunbeams, reflections, and bright colors. A land of fever, where +strong men daily bring wild bulls to earth. A land of leave-takings, +for it is on the confines of an almost uninhabited land, on the shore +of that great blue and white thoroughfare, the sea; just at the point +where the Rhone, coming from the mountains, sets out upon its long +journey to the bottomless waters, where the sun will take it up again +to restore it to its source. An impressive land, which one feels to be +the end of so many things; of the great city-making river, of the +great expiring Faith, which flies to the sands to breathe its last, +with its dying waves beating at the foundations of a poor +battlemented church, amid the psalms, mingled with lamentations of a +dying race. + +The ceremony of May 24th, at Saintes-Maries-de-la-Mer, is +unquestionably one of the most barbarous spectacles which men of +modern times are permitted to witness. + +Since science made the conquest of men's minds, the faith of the last +believers has changed. The most bigoted know, of course, that God can +manifest Himself when and how He pleases, but they also know that He +never pleases, in our positive days, to modify the movements of the +vast mechanism of His creation, not even for the lowly pleasure of +proving His existence to His creatures. The faith of civilized men no +longer expects anything from Heaven in this world. + +Saintes-Maries-de-la-Mer, on the 24th of May, is the rendezvous of the +last savages of the Faith. + +They who come to pray to the holy women for health of body and of +heart are unpolished creatures of a primitive belief. They believe, +and that is the whole of it. A cry, a prayer, and, in reply, the +saints can give them what they have not: eyes, legs, arms, life! And +they ask them to perform a miracle as artlessly as a condemned man +implores his pardon from the head of the State. That their prayers +should be granted is quite as possible, almost more probable, for the +saints have more pity. The few thousands of believers--it is long +since their numbers have been added to--who pay a visit to the saints +every year, see one or two miracles on each occasion. When the priest, +coming from the church, followed by a procession, stretches out toward +the sea the _Silver Arm_ which contains the relics, they see the sea +recede! That happens every year. Imagine, then, how strenuously they +importune the saints who can do so much with so little exertion! with +what energy they hurry to the spot! with what sighs they pour out +their hearts! with what a howling they utter their prayers! with what +fervor they raise their eyes, stretch out their necks and their arms! +All, all in vain. The last posturings of the great, fruitlessly +imploring sorrow are to be seen there, in that desert corner of +France, between the arms of that dying stream, on the shore of the sea +that is eating away the island; beneath the arches of yonder church, +so white without, so black within, wherein every hand holds a taper, +flickering like a star of human misery, which burns for God and +greases the fingers, and for which the beggar, whose heart would be +made glad by a single sou, must pay five sous. + +The whole region seems to be at once the highway to exile, and a wild +place of refuge. Therefore, the gipsies love it. It is one of the main +cross-roads of their interlacing highways which envelop the whole +world; it is one of the favorite countries of the race that has no +country. + +And every year, the gipsies come to Camargue to enjoy their very +ancient privilege of occupying a black crypt or underground chapel, +under the choir of the church, consecrated to Saint Sara the Egyptian. + +In that cavern they can be seen crouching at the foot of an altar +whereon is a little shrine--Saint Sara's--all filthy from much +kissing, while above, in the church, the great shrines of the two +Marys are lowered from the vaulted roof amid vociferous prayers. + +There, in the crypt, the gipsies sit upon their haunches, +curly-headed, hot-lipped, sweating profusely, amid hundreds of +candles, which exude tallow and overheat the stifling oven, telling +their greasy beads, exhaling an odor similar to that of wild beasts in +their den, emitting from time to time a hoarse appeal to Saint Sara, +wearing the smile of premeditated crime upon their faces mingled with +the grimace due to remorse that may be sincere; looking with envious +eye at every sou, pilfering handkerchiefs, scratching their wounds, +swarming in a mysterious dunghill, where one feels, in spite of +everything, that some mystic flower is springing into life, the +involuntary aspiration of depravity toward purity. + +Early in May of this year, the band of gipsies had brought with them +to the saints a young woman whom they called their "Queen." + +This "Queen," pending the arrival of the approaching fete-day, passed +part of her time seated on the wooden bench under the canopy of +thorn-broom erected by the customs' officers between two tamarisks, on +the sand-dune just in front of the village; and there she sat and +gazed at the sea. + +Her name was Zinzara. + +Her thick, black, wavy hair was twisted carelessly into a mass on top +of her head. Two locks came forward to her temples, which were sunken +and filled with shadows. Her piercing black eyes gleamed from beneath +her thick arching eyebrows. A copper circlet with sequins hanging from +it was placed upon her forehead, slightly at one side, after the +manner of a crown. + +The glaringly bright materials in which she enveloped her figure +revealed the outline of her powerful chest, and her hips that swayed +at every step she took. And the fragment that formed her skirt fell in +graceful folds, beneath which her naked foot peeped out, glistening +with sand. + +Evening surprised her upon her bench beneath the broom, looking out +upon the sea. The sun tinged the waves and the sand with golden +yellow, then with red. The night wind made the reeds and rushes +quiver. Slowly the gipsy drew a bright-colored handkerchief from her +girdle and arranged it on her head. She put it over her face to tie +the ends together behind the mass of hair, then raised it and threw it +over her head, so that it fell upon her back. Thus arranged as a +head-dress, it framed the face in stiff, broad folds, falling on both +sides,--and the Egyptian, her hands spread out upon her knees, her +eyes fixed on the horizon, resembled some figure of Isis, while about +her a flock of red flamingoes or a solitary ibis, in hieroglyphic +cries, told the sands of Camargue and the rushes of the Rhone tales of +the sands of Libya and the lotus-trees of the Nile. + + + + +III + +THE DROVERS + + +Jacques Renaud, Livette's lover, was employed as drover of bulls and +horses in this strange Camargue country, on the estate of the Chateau +d'Avignon. + +The _manades_, or droves, of Camargue bulls and mares live at liberty +in the vast moor, leaping the ditches, splashing through the swamps, +browsing on the bitter grass, drinking from the Rhone, running, +jumping, wallowing, neighing and lowing at the sun or the mirage, +lashing vigorously with their tails the swarms of gadflies clinging to +their sides, then lying down in groups on the edge of the swamp, knees +doubled under their bulky bodies, tired and sleepy, their dreamy eyes +fixed vaguely on the horizon. + +The mounted drovers leave them at liberty, but keep a watchful eye on +their freedom; and according to the time of year and the condition of +the pasturage, "round up" their herds, keep them together, and direct +their movements. + +In the distance, as they sit motionless, and straight as arrows, on +their saddles _a la gardiane_, astride their white horses, with the +spear-head resting on the closed stirrup, they resemble knights of the +Middle Ages, awaiting the flourish of the herald's trumpet to enter +the lists. + +The Camargue horse, with his powerful hind-quarters, stout shoulders, +head a little heavy,--an excellent beast withal,--is descended from +Saracen mares and the palfrey of the Crusades. He still wears antique +trappings. Huge closed stirrups strike against his sides; the broad +strap of the martingale passes through a heart-shaped piece of leather +on his chest, and the saddle is an easy-chair, wherein the rider sits +between two solid walls, the one in front as high as that at his back. + +At certain times, when the best pasturage is on the other bank of the +Rhone, the drovers drive their _manades_ toward the river. When they +reach the shore, they press close upon them to force them in. The +earth-colored water of the river flows bubbling by. The beasts +hesitate. Some slowly put their heads down to the stream and drink, +not knowing what is required of them. Others suddenly show signs of +life at the "singing" of the water, stretch their necks, breathe +noisily, and low and neigh. A horse, urged forward by a drover, rebels +and rushes back, then rears and falls backward into the water, which +splashes mightily under the weight of his great body; but he has made +a start; he swims, and all the others follow. Muzzles and nostrils, +manes and horns, wave wildly about above the river, which is now a +swarm of heads. They blow foam and air and water all around. More than +one, in jovial mood, bites at a neighboring rump. Feet rise upon +backs, to be shaken off again with a quick movement of the spinal +column, and thrown back into the waves. Sometimes a frightened beast, +confused by the plunging and kicking, tries to return to the bank, +and, being driven in once more by the drovers, loses his head, follows +the current, sails swiftly seaward, feels his strength failing, +drinks, struggles, turns over and over, plunges, drinks again, +founders at last like a vessel and disappears. + +Finally the bulk of the drove has reached the opposite bank, and there +they shake themselves in the sunlight, snort with delight, and caper +over the fields. Tails lash sides and buttocks. Some young horses, +excited by their bath, scamper away, side by side, toward the horizon, +biting at the long hairs of each other's flying manes. + +Then it is the turn of the drovers. Some ride their horses into the +river. Others, in the midst of the rearguard of the _manade_, guide, +with the paddle, a flat-bottomed boat that a blow of the foot would +shatter, and their horses, held by their bridles, swim behind. + +At other times, the drovers are employed driving from the plains of +Meyran or Arles, Avignon, Nimes, Aigues-Mortes to the branding-places +at Camargue the bulls that are to take part in the sports at the +latter place. + +These bulls sometimes travel in captivity, in a sort of high +enclosure, without a floor, mounted on wheels and drawn by horses; the +bulls walk along the ground, beating their horns against the resonant +wooden walls. + +Generally the bulls go to the games unconfined, but under the eye of +mounted drovers, spear in hand. + +These journeys are made at night. As they pass through the villages, +the people rush to their windows. The young men are on the watch for +the "cattle" and try to drive them out of the circle of drovers, who +lose their temper, and swear and strike: that sport is called the +_abrivade_. In Arles, if the bulls happen to arrive by daylight, the +drovers have a hard task, for all the young men in the city do their +utmost to break the line of horsemen, in order to cut out one bull, or +several, if possible, and then drive them through the city. The city +assumes a posture of defence. Overturned carts barricade the ends of +the streets. Shops are closed. The bull, in a frenzy, rushes here and +there, stands musing for a moment at the corners, decides to take a +certain direction, rushes at a passer-by, knocks him down, and +generally selects the shop of a dealer in crockery and glassware in +which to make merry, amid the shouts of an excited populace. + +The drovers are a free, fearless, savage race, a little contemptuous +of cities, devoted to their desert. + +A drover is at home alike in sun and rain, in the wind from the land, +and the wind from the sea. + +A drover knows how to deal blows and to receive them; he pursues a +bull at the gallop, and with a blow of the spear upon his flank, +judiciously selecting his time, "fells" him unerringly. + +He knows the trick of pursuing a wild bull making for the open +country. His well-trained horse bites the furious beast on the +hind-quarters, and he turns. The drover, spear in rest, pricks the +bull in the nose as he rushes upon him, and checks him. + +Sometimes a drover, on foot and alone, pursued by a cow with calf, and +apparently in imminent danger from the furious beast, will suddenly +turn about, and--with arm outstretched, as if he held his spear--point +his three fingers at the animal, separated so as to represent the +three points of the trident. In face of the motionless man, the cow, +seized with terror, recoils, pawing up the earth, with lowered head +and threatening horns; and, as soon as she thinks she is well out of +the man's reach, she turns and flies. + +A common performance of the drover, when he is in good spirits, is +this: pursuing the bull, he passes beyond him some twenty or thirty +yards, then stops short and leaps down from his horse; the bull, taken +by surprise, rushes at the man, who has one knee on the ground. The +bull comes rushing on with lowered horns. Three sharp hand-claps: the +bull has stopped! His hot breath strikes the face of his subduer, who +has already seized him with both hands by the horns. The man, +springing instantly to his feet, struggles to throw the beast over to +the right. The bull, resisting, throws himself in the opposite +direction. The two forces neutralize each other for an instant, almost +equal, the result uncertain; then the man suddenly yields, and the +beast, unexpectedly impelled in the direction of his own efforts, +falls upon his side. Skill is seconded by the creature's whole +strength in its struggle for victory. + +This is the method adopted at the _ferrades_, or brandings, where the +sport consists in branding the young animals with a red-hot iron. + +For a drover, to seize a colt by the nose, and mount him bareback; to +roll with his steed at the bottom of a ditch and emerge firmly seated +in the saddle; to subdue stallions by fatigue, and, if dismounted and +wounded by a kick, to dress the wound as tranquilly as the cork-cutter +dresses the scratch made by his knife,--all this is mere child's-play. + +A drover, caught between two horns--luckily well separated--and tossed +into the air, has but one thought when he picks himself up after +falling to the ground--a thought so surprising as not to be +ridiculous: to rearrange his breeches and readjust his belt. + +A unique race it is, rough and brutal, which would be esteemed heroic, +like the Corsican race, if it had great affairs in which to display +its great qualities. + + + + +IV + +THE SEDEN + + +Jacques Renaud, Livette's betrothed, was, as we have said, one of the +most fearless drovers in Camargue. + +He could pursue and catch and subdue a wild horse, attack a rebellious +bull and master it, as no other could; he was the king of the moor. + +For occasions of public rejoicing, at Nimes or Arles, he was always +sent for when they desired a really fine performance in the arena. And +he had so often called forth the exclamation, in all the arenas +throughout Provence: "Oh! that fellow is _the king_ of them all!" that +the name had clung to him. And he himself had given to his finest +stallion the name of "Prince." + +Whatever feats of address and strength were performed by others, he +performed better than they. + +And with it all he was a handsome fellow, not too tall or too short, +with a well-shaped head, clear, dark complexion, short, thick, matted +black hair, a well-defined moustache of the same devil's black as the +hair, and cheeks and chin always closely shaven, for this savage +always carried in the leather saddle-bags hanging at the bow of his +saddle a razor-edged knife, a stone to sharpen it upon, and a little +round mirror in a sheep-skin case. + +And when, with his stout and shapely legs encased in heavy boots, his +feet in the closed stirrups, his long spear resting on his boot, he +sat erect and motionless in his high-backed saddle, his size +heightened by the refraction of the desert, amid his little tribe of +mares and wild bulls, wearing upon his head the round narrow-brimmed +hat that made for him a crown of gleaming golden straw, indeed the +drover did resemble the king of some outlandish race! + +And yet it was not on the day of a _ferrade_, nor because of his great +deeds as tamer of wild beasts, that the gentle, fair-haired girl had +come to love him. + +In the first place, she was accustomed to seeing many of these +drovers; and then, being the daughter of a rich intendant, she might +have been inclined rather to look down upon them a little, as mere +herdsmen. Indeed her father and grandmother did not readily agree to +give her hand to Renaud, who was poor and had no kindred; but Livette +was an only child, and had wept and prayed so hard, the darling, that +at last they had said _yes_. + +And this is how it came to pass that the drover Renaud, who was used +to being run after by pretty girls, had taken Livette's trembling +little heart in his great hand. + +It was one morning when he was making a new _seden_ for his horse, +who had lost his the night before, while bathing in the Rhone. + +The _seden_, as it is called in Camargue, is a halter, but a halter +made of mares' hair braided, it being customary always to allow the +manes and tails of stallions to grow as long as they will, as a mark +of strength and pride. The _seden_ is generally black and white. It +is, in a word, a long rope, which hangs in a coil about the horse's +neck, and may serve, as occasion arises, many purposes, being +generally used as a halter, sometimes as a lasso. + +But the _seden_, being a thing essentially Camarguese, should never go +from the province. Many a one does so, no doubt, but it is on account +of the contemptible greed of this or that drover, who snaps his +fingers at the old customs that were good enough for his ancestors. + +Renaud, then, was making a _seden_. It was in front of one of the +farm-houses appertaining to the Chateau d'Avignon, a long, low +structure, rather a drover's cottage than a farm-house, lost in the +moor, and so squat that it had the appearance of not wanting to be +seen, like an animal burrowing in the ground. + +It was October. The larks were singing merrily. Mounted upon Blanquet +(or Blanchet), her favorite horse, the little one, in obedience to her +father's orders, was out in search of Renaud, and she spied him at a +distance, walking backward, playing the rope-maker. From a piece of +canvas tied around his waist and swelling out in front of him, like an +apron turned up to make a great pocket, he was taking little bunches +of white and black hair alternately, braiding them together and +twisting them into a rope, which grew visibly longer. A child was +turning the thick wooden wheel upon which the _seden_, already of +considerable length, was wound; and Renaud--keeping time to the wheel, +which struck a dull blow against something or other at every +revolution--was singing a ballad which floated to Livette's ears on +the gentle breeze that was blowing, like a sweet, strong call from the +love of which she as yet knew nothing. + + "N'use pas sur les routes + Tes souliers; + Descends plutot le Rhone + En bateau. + + "Laisse Lyon, Valence, + De cote; + Salue-les de la tete + Sous les ponts." + +He had a fine voice, smooth and clear, powerful without effort, and of +wide range. + + "Avignon est la reine---- + Passe encor; + Tu ne verras qu'en Arles + Tes amours---- + + "La plaine est belle et grande, + Compagnon---- + Prends tes amours en croupe, + En avant!"[1] + +Livette had stopped her horse, to hear better. It was in the morning. +In the light there was the reflection that tells that the day is +young, that makes hope dance in hearts of sixteen, and sows hope anew +even in the hearts of the old. + +A vague hope that is naught but the desire to love; but its loss, +bitterer than death, makes the thought of death a consolation! + + "Prends tes amours en croupe---- + En avant!" + +the singer repeated, and the little one involuntarily urged her horse +toward the song that called to her to come. + +"Aha!" said Renaud, pausing in his work, "aha! young lady! you are +astir early!--with a white horse that will soon be all red!" + +"Yes," she said, laughing, "with gnats and gadflies; there are swarms +of them! too many, by my faith in God!" + +"You are covered with them, young lady, as a bit of honey is covered +with bees, or a tuft of flowering genesta! But what brings you here?" + +"I come from my father. You must come with me at once." + +"But comrade Rampal borrowed my horse just now to go to Saintes. They +went off one upon the other." + +"Take mine, then," said Livette. + +"And what will you do, young lady?" + +She was ashamed of her thoughtlessness, and blushed scarlet. + +"I?" said she, and the words of the ballad rang in her heart: + + "Prends tes amours en croupe, + En avant!" + +"Unless," said he, laughing in his turn, "you care to take me _en +croupe_?" + +"People would never stop talking about it all over our Camargue," said +she, with laughter in her voice. "A drover like you, the terror of +riders, _en croupe_ like a girl? No, no; no false shame, that is my +place. We will take off my saddle, and you can bring it to me +to-morrow." + +"Very luckily," said Renaud, "Rampal didn't take mine, which I never +lend." + +Livette jumped down from her horse; and at the breeze made by her +skirt a cloud of great flies and enormous mosquitoes rose and flew +buzzing about her. Blanchet's snow-white rump looked as if it were +covered with a net of purple silk, there was such a labyrinth of +little streams of blood crossing and recrossing one another. Another +instant, and gadflies and mosquitoes settled down again upon the +bleeding surface and dotted it with a myriad of black spots; but +Blanchet, albeit somewhat cross, was used to that annoyance. + +Livette fastened him to one of the rings in the wall, and sat down +upon the stone bench, waiting until Renaud had finished his _seden_. + +The wheel turned and turned, striking its dull blow with perfect +regularity at every turn. + +"That was a pretty song, Renaud," said Livette suddenly, answering her +thoughts without intention; "that was a pretty song you were singing +just now." + +"I learned it," said Renaud, "from a boatman, a friend of my father, +with whom I went up the Rhone as far as Lyon--and then came down +again----" + +"And is all that country very beautiful up there?" said she. + +"Yes," he answered, "it is beautiful." + +And he said nothing more. + +"You don't look as if you meant what you say, Renaud. Pray, didn't you +like the city of Lyon we hear so much about?" + +There was a long silence, broken only by the monotonous rhythm of the +wheel. + +"No sun!" said Renaud abruptly. "It's a city in a cold cloud!--The +Rhone isn't fine till you come down again," he added. + +Livette looked at him, and her wide-open eyes seemed to say: + +"Why is that?" + +He answered her look. + +"When one of us goes up yonder, young lady, you understand, he leaves +everything to go nowhere, and when he gets there, all he asks is to +start back again!--When he comes from there here, on the contrary, he +leaves nothing at all, and knows that, at the end of the journey, he +will have arrived somewhere! You see, young lady, the best horse must, +of necessity, stop at the sea--and that is the only place where I am +willing to consent to go no farther. Where the sea is not, you have +all the rest of the journey still to do.--Enough, my boy!" he added, +raising his voice. + +The wheel stopped. He examined the _seden_. The rope, of black and +white strands in regular alternation, was finished. + +"That's a good piece of work," said he; "look, young lady." + +He leaned over, almost against her, to look at a point in the rope +which seemed to him defective; he leaned over, and a short black curl +touched lightly the disordered, almost invisible, locks that formed a +sort of fleecy golden cloud over Livette's forehead. And thereupon it +seemed to both of them--young as they were!--that their hair blazed up +and shrivelled softly, like the fine grass that takes fire in summer, +under the hot sun. Ah! holy youth! + +Then, for the first time, Renaud thought of the girl. Hitherto he had +seen in Livette only the "young lady." They remained bending forward, +she over the rope which she seemed to be examining attentively, he +over Livette's hair. Livette wore her "morning head-dress," consisting +of a little white handkerchief which covered the _chignon_, and was +tied in such fashion that the two ends stood up like little hollow, +pointed ears on top of her head. When they are in full-dress, the +women of Camargue surround the high _chignon_, covered by a fine white +linen cap, with a broad velvet ribbon, almost always black, whose +long, unequal ends fall behind the head, a little at one side. + +Renaud, then, was looking at Livette's clear flaxen hair,--in which +there was, here and there, a lock of a darker golden hue,--symmetrically +massed on top of her head, advancing in little waves toward her temples, +coquettishly arranged, but so short and fluffy that some few locks +escaped, here, there, and everywhere, enough to form the faint golden +mist above her head. + +He looked at the pretty, round neck, whence the fair hair seemed to +spring, like a vigorous plant, so slender and so fine! so long, and +full of life! And the temptation to press his lips upon it drew him +on, as, after a long day's journey among dry, stony hills, the sight +of the water draws on the horses of Camargue, accustomed to moist +pasturage. + +She felt that she was being stared at too long. + +"Let us go!" she said, suddenly. "My father's orders were that you +should come as soon as possible." + +Renaud felt as if he were waking from a long sleep and from a dream. +He jumped to his feet. Without a word, he went to Blanchet, took off +the woman's saddle and carried it into the house, placed his own upon +the beast, which the mosquitoes had at last made restive, and leaped +upon his back. + +Livette, assisted by the drover's strong hand, leaped to the croup +behind him with one spring; highly amused she was as she threw one arm +around Renaud's waist. It is the fashion among the Camarguese young +women, all of whom, on fete-days, ride to the plains of Meyran, or to +Saintes-Maries, "fitted" to the horses of their promised husbands. + +The drover started Blanchet off at a gallop, gave him his head, and +let him take his own course. Blanchet left the travelled road, headed +straight for the chateau across the moor, through the sand thickly +sown with stiff, rounded clumps of saltwort at irregular intervals. +The good horse flew over these clumps, scarcely touching the tops, +landing always between them in the damp sand, from which, however, by +force of long habit, he withdrew his feet without effort, calculating +in advance the distance between the obstacles, galloping freely and +evenly, changing feet as he chose, making sport of his heavy burden, +happy at being left to himself. + +And Livette must needs hold tight to the drover's waist; he was a +lithe, supple fellow, and swayed with the horse. And the swift +motion, the free air, youth and love, all combined to intoxicate the +two young people; and without meaning it, without thinking of it, the +horseman repeated his song of a few moments before, between his teeth, +but loud enough to be overheard by the girl: + + "Prends tes amours en croupe! + En avant!" + +And it seemed to them as if the whole horizon were theirs. + +When they dismounted, in front of the farm-house of the chateau, they +had not spoken a word, but they had exchanged in silence the subtlest +and strongest part of themselves. + +From that day, Renaud, being sincerely in love, exerted himself to +please. He was careful about his dress, paid more attention to the +adjustment of his neckerchief, shaved more closely, and had not a +single glance to spare for the other girls, even the prettiest of +them. + +At last, he said to Livette one day: + +"Your father will never be willing!" + +Those were his first words of love. + +"If I am willing, my father will be. And when my father is willing, +grandmother always is!" + +"The good God grant it!" replied Jacques. + +And it had happened as she said. For almost five months now they had +been betrothed. + +The fascinating thing about Livette was that she was just the +opposite of Renaud, so slender and delicate, so fair and such a +child,--and, furthermore, that she loved him with all her might, the +sweetheart,--there was no mistake about that. + + + + +V + +THE LOVERS + + +Livette was so fresh and sweet that people often repeated, in speaking +of her, the Provencal expression: "You could drink her in a glass of +water!" + +In loving Livette, Renaud experienced the pleasant feeling, so dear to +the heart of strong men, of having some one to protect, a little wife, +who was no more than a child. Because of Livette's fragility and +slender stature, the rough drover, made for violent passions, the +horseman of the Camargue desert, the hard-fisted herdsman, the subduer +of mares and bulls, felt the love that is based upon sweet compassion, +upon respect for charming weakness; in a word, he learned the secret +of true tenderness which he could not have felt, perhaps, for one of +his own class. + +It would never have occurred to him to tell her any of the vulgar +jests with a double meaning, with which he regaled the more robust +fair ones of his acquaintance on branding-days or on race-days. To do +that would have seemed to him to be a villainous misuse of his power +and his experience as a man. Still less did Livette cause him to feel +the fierce desire, well known to him, which sometimes, with other +girls, went to his brain like a rush of blood,--the desire to touch +with his hands, to take in his arms, to throw down into the ditch, +laughing at the gentle resistance, at the consent which repels a +little, at the equal struggle between the youth and the maiden, who +have, in reality, a tacit understanding to be robber and robbed. No: +in Livette's presence, Renaud felt that he was a new man. There came +to him, in regard to the little damsel with the golden hair, a +tranquillity of heart that surprised him greatly. Love has a thousand +forms. That which Renaud felt for Livette was a soothing emotion. He +"wished her well." That was what he kept repeating to himself as he +thought of her. And, as he desired all the others something after the +fashion of the bulls of his _manade_, in the season when the germs are +at work, it so happened that he seemed not to desire the only woman he +really loved. + +There was a sweet fascination in the thought, which he relished like a +draught of pure water after a long day's walk through the dust in the +hot sun. He rejoiced inwardly in his love as in a halt for rest in the +shade of a great tree, beside a clear, cool spring, while the birds +sang their greeting to the morning. Sometimes, in the blazing heat of +midday, when he was riding across the mirror-like waste of sand and +salt and water, his horse plodding wearily along with hanging head, +the thought of Livette would steal softly into his mind, and it would +seem as if a cool breeze were blowing on his forehead, washing away, +in a sense, the dust and fatigue, like a bath. He would feel +refreshed, and a smile would come unbidden to his lips. His whole +being would thrill with pleasure, and, with renewed life, he would +imperceptibly, with hand and knee alike, order his horse to raise his +head. And the lover's steed would raise his head without further +bidding, and snort and toss his mane, scatter, with a sudden lash of +his tail, the gadflies that were streaking his sides with blood, and, +with quickened step, reach the shelter of the hawthorns and the +poplars on the Rhone bank--whose leaves forever quiver and rustle like +the water, like the heart of man, like everything that lives and hopes +and suffers and then dies! + +Not only by her grace and weakness did she win his heart, strong and +rough as he was; but also by the care expended on her dress, by the +splendor of her surroundings, she, the wealthy farmer's daughter, +enchanted him, the poor drover; and she seemed to him a strange, +unfamiliar creature from another world. And so she was in fact. Of a +different quality, he said to himself: a being outside his sphere, +far, far above it. + +That he might one day unloose the latchets of her little shoes had not +occurred to him, and, lo! she was his! Livette, the daughter of the +intendant of the Chateau d'Avignon! she was his fiancee, his +betrothed, his future wife! + +He seemed to himself the heir to a throne. In face of the mere thought +of his future, he felt something like the embarrassment a beggar feels +on the threshold of a palace, before the carpets over which he must +pass to enter, with shoes heavy with mud. + +She had in his eyes something of the sanctity of the blessed Madonna, +carved from wood, painted blue and gold, and overladen with pearls and +flowers, that he used to see when a child in the church of +Saint-Trophime at Arles. + +So it was that he felt a secret amazement at finding himself beloved. + +It did not seem to him that it could really be true; and as he must +needs be convinced of the fact every time he spoke to her, his love +constantly appealed to him with all the force of novelty. + +He was a little embarrassed, too, in her presence, could not find his +words, contented himself with smiling at her, with yielding submission +to her like a child, with running to fetch this or that for her, +divining her desires from her glance; mistaking now and then, but +rarely; feeling the same pleasure in being the maiden's footman that +is felt by the misshapen court dwarf in love with the king's fair +daughter. + +His sobriquet of _The King_ seemed to him a mockery beside her. She +embarrassed him; in her presence he was meek and lowly. + +He was surprised, indignant even, in his heart, at the familiar tone +assumed by others with Livette. It seemed strange to him that her +companions should treat her as an equal; that her father and her +grandmother should not have the same respect and consideration for his +fiancee that he himself had. + +Frequently, when the grandmother cried to Livette: "Do this or that; +run! be quick!" he would be angry, and would long to say to her: "Why +do you order her about? She was not made to obey! You're a bad +grandmother! Don't you see that she is too delicate and pretty for +such tasks?" + +But this was a feeling kept hidden in his heart; he would not have +dared to avow it, for women are made, according to our ancestors, to +be the slaves of man. So he said no word of what he felt. He even +deemed himself a little ridiculous to feel it. He contented himself by +doing in a twinkling, in Livette's stead, the thing she was bidden to +do, if it was something within his power. + +Ah! but if any man had ventured to indulge in any ill-sounding +pleasantry with Livette, to take any liberty with her--oh! then, be +sure that he would without reflection have felled him on the spot with +his stout fist! + +Why, if any one, man or woman, in the crowd on a fete-day, happened to +make a coarse remark in her hearing,--one of the sort that he himself +knew how to make with great effect upon occasion,--he would be +overcome with rage against that person; it seemed to him that every +one should take notice of Livette's presence, should feel that she was +near, and understand that, before her, they should show some +self-respect. + +All this he would have been incapable of explaining, but he felt it +all, confusedly and vaguely, in his heart. + +Livette, for her part, was keenly conscious of the drover's adoration. +She revelled in it, without unduly seeming to do so. She saw very +plainly that she had, without effort, tamed a wild beast. She laughed +sometimes, as she looked at him--a frank, ringing laugh, in which +there was, however, a touch of the triumph of the mysterious feminine +witchery, the marvellous invention of nature, which decrees that the +strong man shall be vanquished, rolled in the dust, at the pleasure of +fascinating weakness. This miracle, performed by life, by nature, by +love, she believed to be her own work,--hers, Livette's,--and the +little woman was a bit swollen with pride! More than frequently she +would say to herself: "What have I done? I don't deserve this good +fortune; no, indeed, I don't deserve it!" She saw very clearly that, +in his eyes, she was a being apart: that he did not treat her by any +means as everybody else did: and, greatly astonished as she was, she +was proud of it. + +Thereupon, wondering in her sincere heart what she had "more" or +better than another, and finding no answer to the question, it came +about that she deemed her lover a little, just a very little, stupid +to be so dominated by her, and he so strong! And then she would +prettily make fun of him and laugh aloud at him, saying: + +"Ah! great booby!" + +So it was that the whole essence of Woman, profound, seductive, +existed in this simple, obscure peasant-girl, who could have told +nothing as to her own character. + +In time, too, she came to look upon herself as pretty, beautiful, the +prettiest, the loveliest of all, and to admire her own charms. When +such thoughts came to her, and if the truth must be known, none were +more frequent,--ah! then she felt her pride! And she no longer deemed +her lover stupid in the least degree; on the contrary, he seemed to +her very fortunate, too fortunate! and then it was he who hardly +deserved her! At such times, she received his attentions, his +humility, with the air of a princess accustomed to homage. + +Then, too, she would wonder why all the others did not do for her what +he did? And, thereupon, she would conceive a sort of gratitude for +him. Such a constant revolution in our hearts of impressions, often +irreconcilable and ever changing, around a fixed idea, is love.--Yes, +in very truth he deserved to be loved simply because he had known +enough to appreciate her! to choose her! The other young men were the +fools, one and all! + +Warm was his welcome if he arrived at the farm when that thought was +in her mind. She would give the little cry of a happy bird, and run +to meet her lover. + +"Good-morning, Monsieur Jacques!" + +"Good-morning, Demoiselle Livette!" + +They would shake hands. + +"Will you come to the Rhone?" + +"With all my heart!" + +And often they would go and sit together beside the Rhone, beneath the +great hawthorn--a tree more than a hundred years old and known to +everybody. The hawthorn, like the aspen and the birch, is a familiar +Camarguese tree. + +Sometimes, on the way, she would hold out to him a flexible green +twig, broken from a poplar by the roadside, and they would walk along, +united and kept apart at the same time by the short branch, followed +by a swarm of gnats with their tiny iris-hued wings. + +She was very fond of this sport of making him walk thus, not too near, +not too far away, holding him without touching him, drawing him nearer +or keeping him at a distance, as her fancy dictated, making of the +leafy wand a whip if he showed signs of rebellion. + +She had the feeling that thus she was indeed his mistress, remembering +how she used sometimes to make her horse Blanchet follow her docilely +in the same way by holding out to him a small wisp of flowering +oats;--how she had sometimes, by the same means, led back behind her, +quiet as an ox, a vicious bull that had escaped, wounded, from the +arena, and that she had encountered by the roadside, in a thicket of +thorn-broom, bathing his foaming tongue in the streams of blood that +were flowing from his nostrils. + +Arrived at the bank of the Rhone, beneath the great hawthorn with the +gnarled black trunk and smooth white branches, that stretches its +abundant rustling foliage well out over the stream, the lovers would +sit down, side by side, upon the roots protruding from the ground or +upon a bundle of cut reeds. + +And they would watch the water flow. The earthy, yellowish water, with +its whirling masses of foam, rushing toward the sea. + +They would sit and gaze. + +They would not speak. They would live on in silence, listening to the +plashing of the Rhone, the tiny wavelets that came rippling in +obliquely to the bank, to loiter there among the feet of countless +reeds and poplars, while the main current in the centre of the stream +flowed swiftly, hurriedly along, as if in haste to reach the sea, and +there be swallowed up.--There they would sit and dream, not speaking. + +They felt that they were living the same life as everything about +them. From time to time, a kingfisher, sky-blue and reddish-brown, +would pass before them, light on a low branch, gazing sidewise at the +water with his beak ready to strike, then, suddenly, fly off across +the Rhone. And, with the sky-blue bird, their thoughts would cross +the river, there to light again upon a branch, bent like a bow, whose +slender point trailed in the water, vibrating in the current, and +surrounded with a mass of foam, dead leaves, and twigs. And suddenly +the bird, like a sorcerer, had disappeared. + +"How pretty!" Livette would sometimes say. + +And that was all. + +He would make no reply. He knew not what to say to her. He was too +happy. He would not call the king his cousin! + +In the evening twilight, many little rabbits, young in that month of +May, would run out from the park, through the wild hedges, almost +invisible in their gray coats, and play in the shadow at the foot of +the bushes, their presence betrayed by the rustling of a tuft of grass +or a low-hanging, horizontal branch that barred their path. + +To heighten the enjoyment of the lovers, there was the nightingale's +song, at the rising of the moon. Listen to it: 'tis always lovely in +the darkness, is the nightingale's song. It begins with three +distinct, long-drawn-out cries; you would say it was a signal, a +preconcerted call; it enjoins attention. Then the modulations +hesitatingly arise. You would say that it is timid, that it fears its +prayer will not be granted. But soon it takes courage, self-assurance +comes, and the song bursts forth and soars and fills the air with its +melodious uproar. 'Tis love, 'tis youth and love that can no longer +be restrained, that nothing stays, that claim their rights in +life.--His song is done. + +His song is done, but still the lovers listen on and on to the bird's +song, echoed in the dark recesses of their own hearts. + +At last, it would be time to return. They would rise and walk back +toward the farm, not far away. + +The grandmother would be calling from the doorway: + +"Livette! Livette!" + +Her voice would reach their ears, with a plaintive, caressing accent, +tinged with sadness, from the edge of the vast expanse that rose in +the darkness toward the stars, toward life and love,--a long, +melancholy call. The voice at night upon the moor fills the air and +rises tranquilly, disturbed by no echo, sad to be alone in a too great +solitude. + +Around the lovers as they returned to the farm, in the orchards, in +the park, as the darkness increased, the deafening clamor of the frogs +would soon be heard, a mighty noise, the sum total of a multitude of +feeble sounds, a frightful din, composed of many minor croakings of +unequal strength, which, massed together, drowning one another, mount +at last into a rhythmic tumult like the ceaseless roaring of a +cataract. + +And amid this formidable everlasting clamor, made by the voices of +myriads of amorous little frogs, accentuated by the cry of a curlew, +or a heron on the watch, and accompanied by the humming of the two +Rhones and the plashing of the sea--the lovers, both deeply moved, +heard nothing save the calm beating of their hearts. + +As time went on, their love waxed greater, increased by the memory of +all these hours lived together. + +Renaud was no longer simple Renaud in Livette's eyes, but the being by +whom she knew what life was, through whom came to her that +overwhelming consciousness of everything, of the horizons of land and +sea, that sentiment of _being_, that longing for the future, for +growth, that inflow of vague hopes that comes of love and gives a zest +to life. + +And now, if any one had sought to wrest Jacques from Livette, she +would have died of it, and he who should try to wrest Livette from +Jacques would have died of it--he would, my friends, even more +certainly. + +It is a good and excellent thing that love should be always busied in +making the world younger--and the nightingale, like the frogs, is +never weary of repeating it. + + + + +VI + +RAMPAL + + +Rampal, who had borrowed Jacques Renaud's horse, had not returned. + +Renaud now rode no other horse than Blanchet. + +Rampal was a low rascal, gambler, hanger-on of wine-shops, well-known +at Arles in all the vile haunts scattered along the Rhone. + +Dismissed by several masters, a drover without a drove, he passed his +life in these days, riding from town to town, from Aigues-Mortes to +Nimes, from Nimes to Arles, from Arles to Martigues, and in each of +these towns plied some doubtful trade, cheated a little at cards, +winning the means of living a week without doing anything, and +returning, for that week, to the Camargue he loved, where there were, +in two or three farm-houses, women who smiled upon his mysterious, +piratical existence. + +For that existence, a horse was essential. Rampal, serving as a drover +on foot, had, in the first place, stolen a horse from a _manade_, but +he broke his tether the second night, left his master, swam the +Rhone, and rejoined his fellows. Then it was that the rascal, having, +in truth, important business on hand, had said to Renaud: + +"I have to go to Saintes, I'll take your horse, Cabri." + +"Take my horse," Renaud replied. + +It did not occur to him that Rampal would not return. Jacques relied +so surely upon his own reputation for strength and courage that he did +not think that any one would venture to arouse his wrath. + +And then he had a sort of pity for Rampal, mingled with a little +admiration. He was a bold horseman, was Rampal, and, except for women +and cards, he would have been, with Renaud, or just after him, a king +of the drovers! So that, if Rampal aroused Renaud's compassion, Renaud +aroused Rampal's envy. + +However, the vagaries of this _marrias_, this good-for-nothing knave, +were the pranks of a free man. Neither married nor betrothed, +fatherless and motherless, with no one to support or assist, no one +whom he must please, he had a perfect right to live as he pleased! At +least, that is what most people thought. + +Moreover, Renaud, although an honest man, had the tastes of a +vagabond. Before his heart was filled with his strange affection for +Livette, by which he felt as if he were bound hand and foot, he had, +in truth, borne a part with Rampal in many curious adventures. + +More than once they had galloped along side by side toward the open +moor, each having _en croupe_ a laughing damsel, who, after the close +of a bull-fight at Aigues-Mortes or Arles, had consented to accompany +them for a night. + +But on such occasions Renaud had always dealt frankly, never promising +marriage nor any other thing, but simply giving the fair one a +present, a souvenir, a brass ring, or a silk handkerchief--a _fichu_ +to pleat after the Arlesian fashion, or a broad velvet ribbon for a +head-dress; while Rampal was treacherous, promised much and did +nothing,--in short, was nothing but _fena_, a good-for-nothing. + +So Rampal had borrowed Renaud's horse with the intention of bringing +him back the same evening; but that evening he had heard of a fete at +Martigues and had ridden away thither without worrying about Renaud. + +"He'll take a horse out of his _manade_," he said to himself. + +Now, Audiffret, Livette's father, had insisted that Renaud should take +Blanchet. + +"Take Blanchet," he said. "I don't like to have our girl ride him. +He's a fine horse, but bad-tempered at times. Finish breaking him for +us. I want him to run in the races at Beziers this year. Take him." + +Happy to have Blanchet in the hands of "her dear," for so she already +called Renaud in her heart, Livette, who was fond of Blanchet, simply +said: + +"Take good care of him." + +That was more than six months before. + +Rampal, who had caused considerable gossip meanwhile, and of whom +Renaud had heard more than once, had not brought back the horse. + +Renaud did not lose his patience. Several times, being informed that +Rampal was in this or that place, he had tried to find him, but had +not succeeded. + +"I shall catch him some day!" said Renaud. "He loses nothing by +waiting." + +He hoped that the fete at Saintes-Maries would bring the rascal back. + +"He will come back with the thieving gipsies!" he said; and he was not +mistaken. + +Not for an empire would Rampal have missed making the pilgrimage to +Saintes-Maries. The rascal would have thought himself everlastingly +damned. It had been his habit from childhood to come and ask +forgiveness of his sins from the two Marys and Sara the bondwoman, at +whom he did nothing but laugh in a boastful way, unable to satisfy +himself whether he believed in them or not. + +This year, being affiliated with the gipsies in matters of +horse-trading (every one knows that the gipsies, men and +women,--_roms_ and _juwas_, as they say,--have a profound acquaintance +with everything connected with the horse), Rampal had been a fruitful +source of information to them. + +By divers methods they had led him to talk about this and that, about +every one and everything. He had no idea himself that he had told so +many things. They had questioned him, sometimes directly, taking him +unawares; sometimes in a slow, roundabout way; when he was drunk, and +when he was asleep. And his replies had been pitilessly registered in +the gipsies' unfailing memory--the wherewithal to astonish all +Camargue. + +Rampal had not even been questioned by the gipsy queen, who did not +trust his discretion; she learned the secrets of the province at +second-hand. + +Once only had he spoken to her. It was one evening when the beggar +queen began to dance for her own amusement on the high-road, to the +music of her tambourine, which she hardly ever laid aside. + +"You are beautiful!" he said to her. + +"You are ugly!" she replied, quickly, in a contemptuous tone. + +"Give me the ring on your finger," said Rampal, "and I'll give you +another." + +She glanced with a gleaming eye at her fantastic ring of hammered +silver, then at the insolent Christian, and said: + +"A sound cudgelling about your loins is what I will give you, dog, if +you don't leave me!" + +And she spat fiercely at him as if in disgust. + +Rampal, somewhat abashed, abandoned the game. + +This woman had a way of looking at people that disconcerted them. You +would say that a sharp, threatening flame shot from her eyes. It +penetrated your being, searched your heart, and you were powerless +against it. She fathomed your glance, but you could not fathom +hers--which, on the contrary, repelled you, turned you back like a +solid wall. And, at such moments, she would stand proudly erect, her +head thrown slightly back, her whole body poised, at once so sinuous +and so rigid, that she might have been compared to a horned viper +standing on his tail, fascinating his prey and preparing to spring. + +"I can't explain, Jacques, how that woman frightened me," said Livette +to Renaud. "My blood is still running cold!--She threatened me! And +when that crown of thorns fell at my feet--Holy Mother!--I thought I +was going to faint!" + +"If I meet her," Renaud replied, "she'll find she has some one to +settle with!" + +"Let the heathen alone, Jacques! It isn't well to have aught to do +with the devil." + +But the drover loved a fight, and he longed for nothing so much as to +fall in with Rampal and Zinzara, the gambler and the queen of the +cards; "a pair of gipsies, a pair of thieves," thought Renaud. + + + + +VII + +THE MEETING + + +The gipsy queen was the first of the two he met. + +Renaud, mounted on Blanchet, was riding along the beach toward +Saintes-Maries. + +The sea was at his right; at his left, the desert. He was riding +through the sand, and from time to time the waves rolled up under his +horse's feet, surrounding with sportive foam the rosy hoofs rapidly +rising and falling. + +Renaud was thinking of Livette. + +He looked ahead and saw the tall, straight, battlemented walls of +Saintes-Maries, and wondered whether he would lead his little queen, +dressed in white, and crowned with flowers, to the altar there, or at +Saint-Trophime in Arles. + +He looked at the sea and wondered if nothing would come to him from +that source; if his uncle, captain of a merchantman, who sailed on his +last voyage so many years ago, would not come into port some day with +a cargo of vague, marvellous things, a million in priceless stuffs and +precious stones? In the poor, ignorant fellow's imagination, the +thought of a fortune was a vision of legendary treasures, like those +discovered in caverns in the Arabian tales. + +For an instant, he seemed to see it with his eyes, to see his vision +realized in the dazzling splendor of the boundless sea, that lay +glistening in the sunlight, with sharp, fitful flashes, like a mirror +broken into narrow, moving fragments of irregular shape. It was an +undulating sheet of diamonds and sapphires. The sun's rays, as he sank +lower and lower toward the horizon, assumed a ruddier hue as they fell +obliquely upon the fast-subsiding waves, and soon the water was like a +sheet of old burnished gold, moving slowly up and down; one would have +said it was a vast melted treasure beneath a polished vitreous +surface! At long intervals, a solitary wave greater than its fellows +fell with a dull roar upon the beach, and ever and anon a cloud passed +overhead; and in the mist flying from the gold-tipped wave, in the +slow-moving shadow of the cloud, the water seemed a deep, dark blue. +The sun sank lower, and broad bright red bands began to overshadow the +bands of ochre, amethyst, light green, pale blue, that rose one above +another on the horizon line. The changing sea was now like a cloak of +royal purple, with fringe of azure, gold, and silver. + +On the desert side, the marshes likewise were changed to vast floors +carpeted with gorgeous drapery and rich embroidery. Everything was +ablaze with sparkles--sea, sand, and salt. At intervals, a red +flamingo rose from among the reeds, flew heavily along, seeming to +carry on his side a little of the ruddy hue of sky and sea,--then +lighted on the brink of the gleaming water. + +The gulls were like white dream-birds in this enchanted country. They +sat in lines, like brooding doves, on the crests of the waves in the +offing, or on the hot sands, or on the surface of the ponds. + +And, down in the northwest, Renaud was looking for the high, square +terrace of the Chateau d'Avignon, for Livette sometimes went up there +to see if she could not spy Blanchet and her dear Renaud's straight +spear somewhere in the plain. + +Suddenly Renaud checked his horse and gazed fixedly at a black object +moving on the surface of the water, rising and falling with the motion +of the waves, some two hundred feet from shore. + +He thought he could descry a woman's head; a head covered with +dripping black hair and surrounded by a copper circlet, from which +depended glistening Oriental medallions. + +The gipsy was swimming, disporting herself in the waves, which, coming +from the deep sea, rose and fell slowly and at long intervals. She +glided through them like a conger-eel, happy in the sensation caused +by the gentle lapping of the salt water caressing her flesh. Her +movements were undulating, like those of the waves themselves; she +writhed and twisted like seaweed tossed about by the surf. Now and +then a heavier, higher wave would come upon her. She would turn and +face it, put her hands together in a point above her lowered head, as +divers do, plunge into the broad wave horizontally, and cleave it +through from front to rear. + +From his horse, Renaud watched the dark head emerge on the other side +of the swelling wave, which, as it approached the shore, curled over +with whitening crest, broke upon the beach in snowy foam and spread +out over the sand, beneath and all about him, in shallow, transparent, +overlapping streams, all studded with sparks. He could not see the +swimmer's body distinctly. Its fleeting outlines could scarcely be +made out beneath the clear, transparent water, ere they were blotted +out again by the undulations and reflections. + +Suddenly the swimmer turned toward the shore, apparently gained a +footing, and, raising one arm out of the water, motioned to Renaud to +be gone, shouting: + +"Go your way!" + +But he, who had thus far watched her with curiosity and with no +feeling of anger, was irritated by those words. Certainly he had +forgotten none of Livette's grievances against the gipsy. Not a week +had passed since her threatening visit to the Chateau d'Avignon. But, +in that beautiful evening light, Renaud's heart felt at peace, and he +had recognized the gipsy queen without emotion. It may be that +curiosity was dominant in his heart, and urged him toward this +mysterious being, surprised in her bath, in the utter solitude of the +desert at evening; the curiosity of a traveller to examine a strange +animal, of a Christian to investigate a heathen woman. "Go your way!" +This command, hurled at him from afar by a woman's voice, wounded him +in that part of his heart where the memory of the gipsy's threat +against Livette was stored away. + +"Ah! it's you," he cried, "you, who go about and stand in doorways to +frighten young girls when they happen to be left alone! who tell lies +and play monkey-tricks to make them give you what they refuse to give! +Don't let it happen again, thief! or you'll find out how the pitchfork +and the goad feel!" + +The insulted queen was absolutely convulsed with furious rage. If she +had been near the drover, she would have jumped straight at his +throat, as the serpent straightens itself out like an arrow and darts +at its prey. She felt that she grew pale, a shiver ran through her +whole body, and swaying a little, like the adder about to spring, with +her head thrown slightly back, she walked toward the horseman--but how +far away he was! + +"Aha!" he cried, "you are coming near to hear better! Come on, you +heathen, come! I will explain it all to you!" + +As he remembered how the woman had threatened Livette, his wrath rose +within him. They were not Christians, these Bohemian creatures, but +thieves, bandits, one and all. Why, it was said that they ate human +flesh, child's flesh, when they could find nothing better. If that +were not true, how would they have whole quarters of bleeding flesh in +their kettles so often? Ah! a race of wolves, of accursed foxes! + +"Come on!" he cried again. + +She came on, but not without difficulty, having to force her way step +by step through the resisting waves. Her shoulders were not yet +visible, and she was accelerating her speed by using her arms under +the water. She could have made the same distance more quickly by +swimming, but she did not even think of that. She was thinking of +something very different! + +Renaud mechanically cast his eye along the shore, behind him, and saw, +a few steps away, the gipsy's clothes lying in a heap out of reach of +the waves,--and her tambourine on top of them; then he looked around +once more at the woman coming toward him. The water was now up to her +armpits, and not until then did he see that she was entirely naked. + +Her bust slowly emerged from the water. At a hundred paces from the +shore, the water reached only to her knees. She was beautiful. Her +slender, well-knit body was very youthful. She stood very erect, and +seemed as if she were going into battle without any thought of shame. +She had been assailed: she was rushing at her assailant, that was the +whole of it. Her fists were clenched, her arms slightly bent, her head +still thrown back a little. Her whole attitude was threatening. The +water was rolling down in glistening pearls from her neck to her feet, +over every part of her swarthy, bronzed body. Her swelling chest +seemed to be put forward, as if it were ready, like a magic buckler, +to receive the blows that would be powerless to injure it. + +The drover sat still in speechless amazement. He gazed at the +approaching woman, who, as he saw her, springing from the water, +surrounded by white foam, with her unusual coloring, appeared to him +like a supernatural being. + +What was she there for? She came forward, boldly aggressive; and her +witch's mind was revolving many evil schemes, no doubt. + +Did she not bend over a moment, as if to pick up pebbles from beneath +the water, with which to stone her enemy? Was she not holding them now +in her clenched fists. No: the sands of Camargue stretch very far +beneath the water, sloping very gradually, and not the tiniest pebble +meets the swimmer's bare foot. + +What was she doing then? + +And now she was close beside the horseman, whose curiosity constantly +increased. But he had ceased questioning himself. He simply stared at +her, stupefied and enchanted. + +He followed her with his eyes, fascinated, forgetting his spear +resting upon his stirrup, forgetting his horse, forgetting everything. + +And now she was within three paces of him, standing perfectly +straight, insolent in her whole bearing, in every undulation of her +figure, looking him in the face, with eyes from which a steely flame +shot forth, and which no other eye could penetrate. And as she +presented her profile to him for a second, he had a swift, hardly +conscious thought that the lower part of the face--from below the +nostrils to the base of the chin--resembled the head of the lizard of +the sand, and the turtles and snakes of the swamp. There was the same +vertical line, broken by thin, slightly-receding lips, whence he +expected to see a forked, vibrating tongue come forth, as in a dream +of the devil. + +But this impression was but momentary, and he saw naught but the +woman, young, fair, unclothed, seemingly offering herself voluntarily +to his savage lust, in the security of that deserted shore, amid the +plashing of the waves, in the fresh breeze blowing from the sea, and +the evening sunlight, which, with the salt water, coursed in streams +over the whole lovely body. + +Dazzled, blinded, drunken with the waves of blood, which from his +heart, whither it had rushed at first, suffocating him and making him +waver in his saddle,--now poured back to his brain, suffusing his face +and bull-like neck with red,--he was about to leap down from his +horse, or perhaps to stoop over only, snatch up the creature--a mere +feather in his hands--by strength of wrist, and centaur-like carry her +away _en croupe_,--when she, more prompt to act, darted forward, +stretching out her arms, and with her left hand seized and pulled +back with all her strength the double rein of Renaud's horse, making +him rear and fall back. And with her right hand she struck the +creature's face! + + [Illustration: Chapter VII + + _He saw naught but the woman, young, fair, unclothed, + seemingly offering herself voluntarily to his savage lust, + *** when she, more prompt to act, darted forward, stretching + out her arms, and with her left hand seized and pulled back + with all her strength the double rein of Renaud's horse, + making him rear and fall back._] + +"Go, dog! go and tell your people that a woman has revenged herself +upon you and has struck the horseman on his horse's face! Coward! Vile +neat-herd! Go and tell it to your sweetheart! Go, tell her that when I +struck you, you knew not what to do or say!" + +There was no wrath left in Renaud; he had no feeling but fear mingled +with amazement. The woman's performance seemed to him in very truth +surprising, diabolical. In coloring, bearing, expression, and +audacity, she was the sorceress to the life. A strange terror took +possession of him. Perhaps he would have gone astray gaily, without +remorse, with any other than this ill-omened gipsy, who terrified him. +He was especially alarmed for Livette. He felt that she, and he +himself with her, were threatened by some mysterious, obscure +disaster; and the thought of being unfaithful to her filled him with +dismay, as the beginning of the end. He was afraid of himself; afraid, +for Livette, of this unforeseen, inexplicable creature, who rose up +before him, challenging him to contend with her, for what?--Thus, +malignity and hatred brought the woman to him as love would not have +done!--He was bewildered. He simply waited till his rein should be let +go, ready to start off at a gallop, feeling no longer in his heart the +wrath a man must feel in order to ride down any woman, though she +were a witch, and trample her beneath his horse's feet, at the risk of +killing her. + +But why was he no longer angry? Because his eyes, against his will, +followed every movement of that body with its weird beauty,--the body +of an enemy. + +"You would like to fly like a coward, would you?" she suddenly cried. +"You shall not go until I choose!" + +Profiting by the horseman's open-mouthed stupor, she had seized with +her teeth a hanging end of the lasso that was coiled about the horse's +neck, and with the assistance of one hand--the other still holding the +rein--had swiftly passed it about the nostrils and tied it in a cruel +knot. With a fierce pull upon this instrument of torture, she held the +beast fast just where she wished him to be. + +"You must wait until your comrades pass!" she said. "They must see a +bull-tamer tamed by a woman!" + +"Upon my word," thought Renaud, "that would be, as she says, a very +absurd thing!" And he drew his horse back a little, thinking he might +release him, but the horse stretched out his head and neck, balked, +dropped his tail, and stiffened his four legs, as if he were tied to a +wall. The gipsy did not stir. She laughed, showing an unbroken set of +small, white, pretty, formidable teeth. + +"Take care!" said Renaud at last, "I am going to ride my horse upon +you!" + +"I defy you to do it!" she replied tranquilly. + +She saw with her unerring glance signs of confusion in the drover's +eyes: the charm was working! Through a mist he now gazed upon this +woman, whose captive he was, by virtue of a burning curiosity already +closely akin to love. She smiled. + +This lasted some time. At last, Renaud felt that his wits were leaving +him. To remain faithful to Livette, whom he could not betray with the +very woman upon whom he had promised to avenge her, he must not +dismount from his horse, for as soon as he put his foot to the ground +he would have become the stronger of the two! To remain faithful he +must have courage to remain vanquished in this struggle of beauty +against strength. And he waited. + +She surprised the drover glancing for an instant toward the moor. + +"Aha! you are afraid some one will see you, coward! but never fear! +Every one shall know what has happened to you, all the same. I will +take care of that! Some day you shall come and tell me what your +pale-faced, white-blooded blonde had to say to it!" + +Humiliated at being forced thus to obey a woman, but rendered wavering +and weak by the physical delight she caused him to feel, he remained +where he was! His horse, as he irritated without maddening him, tried +several times to free himself, but without success. Renaud looked on. +Slight, supple as a tiger's whelp, active and strong, and accustomed +to contend with horses, the gipsy, still holding the cruel cord in +her left hand, had seized the long mane and wound it about her right +hand, and when the horse reared, she being thus made fast to him, +allowed herself to be raised from the ground, standing erect upon the +tips of her rigid toes--or else she would twine her feet about the +rider's leg, clinging to him as the polypus clings, with its tendons +to the rock, and laughing always, with a wicked, obstinate, triumphant +air. + +"You shall never be rid of me again!" + +At last, becoming more and more alarmed, he came to have a horror of +her, as of a poisonous insect, seen in a dream, a spider or a +dragon-fly, that follows you obstinately, or of an adder that +conceives a strange, almost human hatred for you, persists in +following your footsteps, with unwearying patience, and becomes an +object of terror, despite his puny size, because of his supernatural +tenacity. + +And in very truth the fierce resolution, the malevolent perseverance, +the demoniacal obstinacy of the woman, protected as she was by her +beauty and her weakness, were terrifying. + +But the play of the muscles, causing that gleaming flesh, now moist +with perspiration, to throb and undulate, aroused the man's interest, +in spite of everything, and pleased him more and more. Desire awoke in +him. And instantly he refused to accept his defeat, and rebelled. + +"Look out!" he cried, and he urged his horse forward, driving his +spurs into his sides; but the beast, held fast by the nostrils, gave +but three leaps and then stopped short, breathing fire. Poor Blanchet, +who was used to his young mistress's caresses and sweetmeats! he was +learning now to know woman's true nature. + +At last, the gipsy released her double prey. + +"Go! you have looked at me enough!" she suddenly exclaimed. + +Renaud gazed at her an instant longer, without speaking or moving. The +strength and chaotic character of his temptations held him fast there +for another moment. So this extraordinary experience (which would +never be repeated!) was ended at last!--Mad thoughts, each clear +enough in itself, but confused by their great number, jostled one +another in his brain. Why had he not sooner put an end to this +conflict? What would people say of him when it was known? How could it +be that he, the king of the moor, had not stooped to pick up this +joy?--But Livette?--ah, yes! Livette! + +He buried his spurs in Blanchet's flanks, and the beast flew away +toward Saintes-Maries. + +The gipsy stood on the shore a long while, looking after the fugitive. +She smiled. She reviewed in her mind the varying fortunes of the +battle, and gauged the extent of her victory. She recalled, one by +one, to enjoy them to the full, the thoughts that had passed through +her mind when she was wading toward the shore. + +She had not premeditated her assault, as she made it--her first idea +had been to pick up some stones and throw them at Renaud's head, being +an adept in the art. But she could find none. So she had continued her +forward movement, not knowing what she would do, but certain that she +must do something to punish the insolent Christian. + +But when she felt the cool air blowing upon her bare breast, she had +said to herself in her mysterious language, full of cabalistic words +and images, that if a saint had been able to recompense a boatman--her +good friend--simply by revealing to him her beauty all unclothed, a +heathen might, by similar means, chastise a brutal drover; for love is +the magician's herb, the bitter-sweet, the plant with two savors, balm +and poison at once; and woman is bitter as the salt sea water, +frightful as death,--her hands are chains stronger than iron, and her +whole being is as much to be dreaded as an army! + +Could not she, brown as she was, almost black beside the white-skinned +blondes, domineer over the pale-faced Livette's lover, if she chose? +Indeed, what more need she do, to make him unfaithful to his fair +fiancee, than show herself to him, and could she not do it without +seeming to intend it? As she had, beyond question, been insulted by +this Christian, she could pretend to forget her nudity in her wrath, +and thus attack him with that same nudity!--No, no, there was no need +of philters, magic incantations, or fires lighted at night when the +moon is young, under tripods on which marsh-water, filled with snakes, +is boiling--no need of such things to bewitch this fellow! She would +come forth from the water, naked and lovely as she was, and the devil, +at her command, would do the rest! What were the stones she might +throw at a young man, compared with the power that exhaled from +herself? Yes, therein lay the charm of charms. She knew it,--being a +witch like every other woman! Lust for her body was what she would +throw at him like an evil destiny; with that she would poison his +life--and then, she would calmly watch the ravages of the poison. + +And so she had come forward, small but formidable--the queen! She knew +also that in former times, in the days of pagan Europe, an immortal +goddess had issued from the sea, had sprung forth, fair and naked, +like a marvellous flower, and, standing on the blue waves, her feet +resting in a shell of mother-of-pearl, had long held sway over +men--before the reign of Jesus Christ. + +Renaud, turning in his saddle, saw the gipsy standing there, still +naked, waving her arms in the sunlight, as if she wished still, from +afar, to hold Livette's betrothed spellbound and fascinated by her +beauty. + +The sun disappeared below the horizon, and the naked woman's figure, +even more mysterious in the gathering twilight, was outlined in black +against a coppery red sky. + + + + +VIII + +ON THE BENCH + + +From Saintes-Maries, whither he went to ask how many bulls he was +expected to bring on the day of the fete, Renaud rode away at once to +the Chateau d'Avignon. + +He was in haste to see Livette once more, and sitting by her side to +forget the scene of the afternoon, to which, despite his efforts, his +mind constantly reverted. + +A ride of four or five leagues and he reached his destination. + +Livette and her father and grandmother were sitting just outside the +farm-house, enjoying the fresh air on the stone bench against the +facade of the chateau, among the old climbing rose-bushes which frame +the windows above with their bunches of green leaves interspersed with +flowers. + +This was also one of the favorite resorts of our lovers, who liked to +have above their heads the perfumed foliage, to which one of the +nightingales from the park often came to sing. + +"Ah! good-evening, Jacques." + +"Good-evening, all." + +"What brings you so late? You have dined, of course?" + +"I ate some anchovies at the Saintes----" + +"They're good for nothing but to give you an appetite. Would you like +something else? you have only to speak." + +"Thanks, Master Audiffret. I'll just go and look after Blanchet in the +stable and then come back. I won't go to the _jass_ to-night. I'll +sleep in the hay-loft with the horses." + +Master Audiffret, with his pipe between his lips, rose and followed +Renaud as far as the door of the stable, and from there watched him +rub down his horse. + +"Whenever you please, Master Audiffret, you can take him back for +Livette. I don't find any faults in him; far from it. He is a good +horse, and very gentle." + +"He is quiet with you because you tire him out, you see; but she +didn't use him every day, not by any means; I am always afraid for +her. If she takes a fancy to ride him sometimes, you can lend him to +her, and take the first horse that comes along for yourself. By the +way, I hope you will soon have your Cabri again. Somebody saw Rampal +yesterday in Crau. He was riding your horse, so he hasn't sold him, at +all events. It's fair to suppose he means to bring him back to you." + +"Oh! I will go to meet him," said Jacques, "for as to thinking he +will bring him back to me--oh! no; he would have done that before +now!--Can you tell me, Audiffret, where Rampal was seen yesterday?" + +"Between Tibert's farm and Icard's in Crau. Right there, as you know, +in the middle of a bog, is a hut you can only get to by a plank walk +built on piles and covered by the water--you can only tell where it +is, when you know the place, by stakes sticking up at intervals the +whole length of the walk. I have an idea he means to go in hiding +there, the beggar, like the deserter who went there to pass his time +of service----" + +"Aha! he has gone to the Conscript's Hut, has he? Very good; I will go +to see him there, never fear!" said Renaud. + +Blanchet, having been well rubbed down, was grinding the good lucern +between his teeth. Renaud went out of the stable, and with Audiffret +sat down beside Livette and the grandmother. + +All four kept silence for a long moment. Nothing could be heard but +the unceasing, melancholy croaking of the frogs, and beneath it, but +indistinguishable, the dull murmuring of the two Rhones and the sea. + +The sky was swarming with innumerable tiny stars, which seemed to +answer the various noises of the palpitating moor; and, just as the +waters of the Rhone, after it rushes into the blue ocean, pursue their +own course for a long while therein, unmingled, without losing their +earthy color; so the Milky-Way, made of a dust of stars, pursued its +course, easily distinguishable, through the ocean of starry worlds. + +Renaud had a feeling of constraint. + +When he joined his fiancee, he did not feel all that he ordinarily +felt--a joyful impulse to run to meet her, a sort of oppression at the +pit of the stomach, a sudden delicious rush of the blood to the +throbbing heart!--And Livette, too, so soon, was conscious of a vague +inexplicable feeling at the bottom of her heart that something was +wrong. There was something between them! Indeed, he had, for the first +time, something to conceal from her; and, thinking that it might, that +it must be apparent, he suddenly said: + +"I am not well to-night." + +"Look out for the fever!" said Audiffret. "I know it is not as +frequent or as dangerous as it used to be, but you must be on your +guard, all the same! Be on your guard, and take the remedy. Up in the +pharmacy of the chateau are the registers of the time the land was +first exploited--the time when the Chateau d'Avignon people were +gaining a little arable land from the swamps every day. Why, men went +to the hospital, fifteen, twenty a day. And such doses of quinine, my +children! It is all written down in the _Livre de Raison_ up there. In +those days, all the farms hereabout had the same kind of a book, +called by the same name, just as sailors have a log-book. Those were +the days of good order and gallantry. The peasant-women in those days +didn't try to copy Parisian bourgeoises,--eh, grandmamma?--by wearing +dresses that didn't suit them, instead of the old-fashioned gowns that +made them attractive because they were so becoming." + +"Yes," sighed the grandmother, "this is the age of pride, and my time +has gone by." + +That is the common remark of all our old peasants. + +"People didn't read so many newspapers in those days," continued +Audiffret, "they didn't worry so much about the affairs of the whole +world, and every man paid much more attention to his own affairs. +Things went better for it. Landowners lived on their estates and +raised families, instead of going to Paris and dying there, of pride +or debt or something else. The _Livre de Raison_ up yonder describes +our ancestors' battles with the swamps and the fever. The pharmacy is +still in good order, with the scales and the jars in the pigeon-holes, +under the dust. And the book tells everything, diseases and deaths. +To-day, hardly any one dies of the fever in our neighborhood. It is +dying out. The dikes and canals have done good service, and this +Cochin China of France, as that sailor called it that I took to see +the Giraud rice-fields, this Camargue of ours is as healthy to-day as +Crau!--However, be on your guard, I tell you, and take the remedy! +don't wait till to-morrow; Livette will give you what you need. Now, I +am going to bed. Stay up a little longer, young people, if you +choose. Are you coming, grandma?" + +"No, I'll stay out a moment longer with the young folks," said the old +woman. + +Audiffret knocked the ashes out of his pipe against the corner of the +bench, and having put it in his pocket, went up to bed. + +Silence reigned upon the bench. + +The grandmother was tired and sleepy: every little while she would +raise her head as if suddenly awakened,--then it would begin to fall +forward again, slowly, slowly---- + +"A heavy dew is falling," observed Livette, suddenly. + +"Yes, demoiselle." + +"See!" said she ingenuously, holding out her arm so that he could feel +the dampness on the sleeve of her dress. But he did not put out his +hand. He was not all Livette's that evening, as usual. Strangely +enough, she did not frighten him that evening. He was not, as usual, +overcome with diffidence in her presence. She no longer dominated him. +And he was angry with himself. He suffered. He realized that his +thoughts were more frequently busied with the memory of the day than +with his sweetheart, who was sitting so near him. + +"What are you thinking about?" said Livette, who had had her eyes upon +him for a moment past, as if she could see his face distinctly, +although they were sitting in the shadow. Beyond question, she felt +that his thoughts were elsewhere. There is nothing more subtle than a +lover's divination. + +"I am thinking," said Renaud, a long minute after the question, "about +my horse, which I propose to take back from Rampal to-morrow if he can +be found in Camargue or Crau." + +"And then?" + +"And then?" he repeated--"I was thinking of the Conscript's Hut, where +he is at this moment, perhaps,--in hiding." + +"And of what else?" Livette insisted. + +"Oh! how do I know! of the fever--of all we have just been saying----" + +"Alas!" said the maiden, "and not at all of me, Renaud? do you not +think of me any more?" + +Her voice was sad. + +He shuddered, and the movement did not escape the little one's notice. +It seemed to him, as Livette uttered that reproach, that he saw the +gipsy again as he had seen her in the afternoon, standing before him, +near at hand, all naked and so brown! as if she were accustomed to +pass her days naked in the sun, and were tanned from head to foot by +his rays. And how lithe and sinewy the wild creature was! A genuine +animal, a little Arabian mare, of much finer breed than the Camargue +stock. Alas! for too long a time, through fidelity to his fiancee, he +had been as virtuous as a girl, and now the hot-blooded fellow's +continence was taking its revenge upon him, a cruel revenge, arousing +mad, amorous longings that were not for Livette. And so his very +respect for her--poor child!--turned against her! + +"Jacques?" said Livette, in the hardly audible tone the sentiment of +love imparts to the lover's voice, a soft, veiled tone, heard by the +heart rather than by the ear. + +Renaud did not hear her. He _saw_.--He saw the gipsy as plainly as if +she were there before him, even more plainly. In the darkness of the +night, her body, brown as before, seemed luminous, like an opaque +substance giving forth a pale light. Her naked figure, obscure and +bright at the same time, was standing motionless before his eyes--then +it moved--and he fancied that he saw the gipsy bathing in the +phosphorescent water peculiar to the summer months,--when swimmers +cause a cold, liquid light to dart hither and thither through the dark +water, following and marking the outlines of their forms, from which +it seems to radiate. + +"Have I the fever?" he said to himself. + +As if in answer to the unspoken question, Livette took his hand. She +felt it from wrist to finger-ends, to see if it were dry and hot. + +"Yes," said she, "you must look out; father was right, you have a +touch of fever. Come up and find the medicine." + +"Come on," said he, glad of the diversion. + +"Come," she repeated, "but move softly: grandma has fallen asleep!" + +The old lady was asleep, as she said. She was leaning against the +wall, perfectly motionless. The white handkerchief, tied in the +Arlesian fashion, instead of covering her _chignon_ only, enveloped +almost her whole head, allowing two tufts of coarse, white hair, all +in disorder, to protrude, like mist, on each side of her face. + +She was asleep, her mouth partly open, a ray of light shining through +upon her teeth, which were still beautiful. + +They left her there. + + + + +IX + +THE PRAYER + + +Livette opened the farm-house door, which creaked loudly in the +resonant emptiness of the spacious stone staircase. + +She lighted the lamp, which was hanging on a nail, and they went +up-stairs together, she absorbed by thoughts of him, and he of her, +but no longer in their accustomed condition of affectionate +embarrassment. + +He held the iron lamp, hanging at the end of its hooked stick; and to +relieve his conscience, to do his duty as a lover, and perhaps in that +way to change the current of his thoughts, perhaps to set at rest the +amorous anxiety with which he was assailed,--to force himself to +return, heart and soul, to Livette, and, who knows?--so hard to fathom +is man with his background of devil!--perhaps, with her and unknown to +her, to satisfy to some extent the passion kindled by the other--for +all these reasons together, more inextricably mingled than the twigs +of the climbing rose-bushes, he said to himself: "I will kiss her!" He +had never done that thing,--except in the presence of the old +people,--but the Renaud of that evening was not the Renaud of other +days, in his feeling for Livette. The powerful leaven of his wild +nature was swelling his veins to bursting. In very truth, he had the +fever,--at all events, a species of fever. All his nerves were +overstrained; in his eyes, even the most indifferent objects wore an +unusual look. And in Livette he saw, in spite of himself, reproaching +himself bitterly therefor, things which ordinarily he refused to see. +And as, being always dressed in the Arlesian fashion, she wore the +_fichu_ of white muslin crossed upon her breast so low as to afford a +glimpse, beneath the gold chain and cross, of the white throat, above +the meeting of the stiff folds, laid neatly one upon another, his +passionate gaze fell upon that spot, amid the modest arrangement of +muslin, prettily called "the chapel." + +In his left hand was the lamp, which he held shoulder-high, and as far +away as possible, to avoid the drops of oil,--and he wound his right +arm about Livette's waist as she placed her hand upon the iron rail. + +At every step they climbed, he felt the play of the muscles of his +fiancee's youthful frame, imparting to the arm about her waist a +soothing languor that ran through his whole being,--and yet his heart +did not rejoice thereat; and he realized that, ordinarily, if the end +of the velvet ribbon in Livette's head-dress touched his face, it +caused a sweeter thrill of pleasure in his blood, and more than all +else, a pleasure which there was no mistaking. And, thereupon, he +grew vexed with himself as for a failure of duty, he was oppressed by +a presentiment of disaster, vague but inevitable. And she felt more +and more keenly the rebound of his emotions. She was conscious that +her peace of mind was endangered. Something certainly was against her. +The arm, which had sometimes been about her waist as now, no longer +seemed to be her lover's arm, but a mere ordinary man's. She suffered, +and did not understand. The look she saw in his eyes was a strange +look from him, without affection, without pity even. She knew him +well, honest Renaud, her promised husband, and yet she was afraid of +him as of a stranger! + +All these thoughts passed very quickly through their minds, the more +quickly because they were simply conscious of them, and did not stop +to try to analyze them. The all-powerful human electricity, less known +than the other variety, was playing its game, impossible to follow, in +their hearts, with its vast net-work of currents and connections. In +these two creatures of instinct, the ever-recurring prodigy of love, +of natural affinity--of the sympathies and their opposite--was seen +once more, as mysterious, as marvellous, as profound as ever. So far +as nature is concerned, there are two beings: man and woman; there are +no subdivisions. At the basis of humanity, all life is the same, all +passion is the same. The student of the higher races labors +incessantly to perfect his reasoning and his powers of expression, +but there is more overflowing, complicated life in the heart of his +ignorant brother than in the heads of the philosophers, who, by dint +of self-analysis, have lost the faculty of emotion. They who deem +themselves most skilful in discovering the real man in themselves, do +not perceive that they pervert the secret impulses of their hearts by +keeping too close a watch upon them. The light of their miner's lamp +changes the psychological conditions, just as constant light would +modify the physiological condition of human beings and plants. And, +meanwhile, love and death repeat, in the eternal darkness of their +simple hearts, their unwitnessed miracles. + +They had reached the landing on the first floor--as large as an +ordinary room. At the last step, Renaud, almost lifting Livette to the +landing, tried to draw her to him, but she was seized with an impulse +to resist, and he with a sudden impulse to resist himself; separately, +the two impulses would have had no effect; but combined, they exerted +sufficient force to place an obstacle between them, as if by mutual +consent. That force was the witchery at work. + +As they did not exchange a word, their embarrassment increased. + +Hastily, to escape the constraint each imposed upon the other, she ran +to the door at the right and entered. And he, well pleased to be able +to do or say something to bring them nearer together, called out: + +"Wait for the light, Livette! I am coming." + +But Livette had suddenly remembered the gipsy's threat. "It is fate," +she said to herself, "I see it now!" And she felt herself grow pale. + +Then she had an inspiration. + +"Follow me, Renaud." + +They passed through rooms where furniture of the time of the Empire +was sleeping beneath its covers, and the long hangings falling from +the ceiling in broad, stiff folds, and withered, as it were, by time; +rooms seldom visited by the master, but kept in order by Livette and +her grandmother. + +At last, Renaud and Livette reached an apartment with bare, +whitewashed walls, once used as a chapel. + +A wooden altar, entirely devoid of fittings and ornament, stood at one +end of the room. Before the white and gold door of the tabernacle the +sacred stone was missing, leaving a square hole in the wood-work of +the altar. + +But Livette opened a broad door flush with the wall. It opened into a +closet in the wall. When the door was thrown wide open, they could +see, below a shelf about level with their heads, chasubles and stoles +hanging straight and stiff--with great crosses in heavy gold +embroidery--suns from which the dove came forth; and mystic triangles, +and _Agnus Deis_. Among all the others were vestments for use in +mourning ceremonies,--black, with bones and executioners' ladders, +hammers and nails, in heavy white embroidery; and--to Livette's +amazement--there, in the centre of a stole, on silk as black as night, +was worked a crown of thorns in silver, which, in the lamplight, +seemed to emit bright rays. + +On the shelf, above all these priestly vestments--which were arranged +with the backs outward, hung in such fashion that you seemed to be +looking at the priests standing at the altar--on the shelf, between +the goblet and the pyx, shone the consecrated host, a radiant sun, +mounted upon a pedestal like a candelabrum; and in the centre of its +rays was a gleaming circle of plain glass, which also reflected, in +fantastic guise, the flame of the lamp. + +"Kneel, Renaud!" said Livette. "Prayer is the cure for what is +happening to us. Kneel and let us pray!" + +The drover obeyed. He understood that Livette's purpose was to +exorcise fate. + +She prayed in silence fervently. He, marvelling, unwonted to the +attitude of prayer, and striving to keep himself in countenance, +looked from time to time at the lamp he held in his hand, raised it to +get a better view of the ecclesiastical treasures, and, diverted for +the moment, by constant effort, from the perplexity that weighed upon +his heart, he was the more wretched when his mind suddenly reverted to +Livette. + +Thereupon he said to himself that she certainly had guessed the truth; +that there was, in fact, a spell upon him, and, in his heart, he +implored the merciful God of the Cross, the mystic triangle, the +symbolical bird and lamb, to come to his aid. + + [Illustration: Chapter IX + + _In his left hand was the lamp, which he held shoulder-high, + and as far away as possible, to avoid the drops of oil,--and + he wound his right arm about Livette's waist as she placed + her hand upon the iron rail._] + +"Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against +us!" Livette suddenly exclaimed, aloud, thinking of the gipsy.--"O +God," she added, "we promise Thee that on Saintes-Maries Day, which is +near at hand, we will each carry three tapers to their church, and +wait, until they are so far consumed, one after the other, in their +honor, that our finger-tips are burned!" + +Then she rose--but before they left the room, they closed the +unpretentious double door upon the objects of a dead cult, left in the +darkness of abandonment--the goblet without wine, the pyx without +bread, and the consecrated host, whose polished metal case held naught +within. + + + + +X + +THE TERRACE + + +He was well aware that he needed no fever medicine, and that his fever +did not come from the swamps. + +She said no more about the drug, but as they stood on the landing and +he was preparing to descend, she said: + +"Suppose we go out on the terrace?" + +Livette wished to prolong the tete-a-tete, to ascertain if, after her +prayer, she would find _her_ Renaud in him once more. + +He placed his lamp on the floor at the top of the staircase, and, +pushing open the door just above the last step, they both stood on the +terrace that overlooks the whole chateau. + +A square terrace, and in the centre the great bell lay upon its side +in its iron cage--the great bell, three feet in diameter, that in the +old days called to work as well as to prayer, and when it rang the +Angelus caused the fever-haunted farm-laborers to fall upon their +knees on the brink of the miasmatic bogs. + +Both of them, one after the other, mechanically struck the bell with +their foot, as it lay there on its side. It gave forth a short, +plaintive note, quickly stifled by contact with the flag-stones. It +was like the sigh of a mystery-haunted soul. + +With hearts as sad as the bell, they leaned on the stone parapet in +presence of the night. + +Livette and Renaud loved each other, but affection was no longer +enough for him. The sap of the spring-time, boiling in his veins in +lustful desire, gave birth, in Livette's heart, to sweet flowers of +reverie. + +The swarming of the stars above their heads was beyond comprehension. +They were as many as the gadflies and frogs in the desert, or the +waves of the sea. They seemed to open and half close, like flowers in +a meadow, waved to and fro by a light, quickly-passing breath, like +eyelids making signs. + +They seemed to have something to say, to move like lips speaking a +living language, telling of something of great moment that must be +known at once--but no sound coming from them reaches the ears of men, +for human hearing is not keen enough. Nor is the human sight keen +enough to see that the dust of the Milky-Way (pale as the pollen of +flowers) is also made of stars. Though men have seen it with a +different sight, afforded by man's inventive genius, that sight is +powerless to pierce farther and deeper--to learn all there is to know. + +Moreover,--and Renaud himself had heard the story from the shepherds +who pass the winter in Camargue and Crau, and spend their nights in +summer counting the stars upon the summits of the Alps,--there are, in +space, beyond the skies visible to our eyes, fires alight so far away +from us, so far away that their light, now on its way toward our +earth, will not reach us for centuries to come. The men who follow us +centuries hence will see twinkling stars that even in our day were +lighted and making signs we could not see. And in those days ideas, +which are already kindled in men's minds, and are seen to-day by none +save those in whom their light is shed, will shine for all, and one of +them will be, for every mortal, the love and pity of the world. + +Certain it is, that neither Renaud nor Livette could fathom those +infinite depths; but from the vast expanse of heaven, swarming with +tiny lights, a nameless emotion stole into their hearts, made up of +all their hopes to come. + +Future worlds, lovelier than this of ours, were dreaming in them, with +them. + +In them, too, because they were young and human, there was a share in +the future. In them, too, was the responsibility for future lives. In +them, too, lurked the mystery of generations to be born, for whom a +single couple, surviving the wreck of the demolished world, would be +enough to bestow upon them the desire to live and the power. + +A spark is the basis of all fire. A man and a woman are the basis of +all love. Infinity is no greater than the number two. And that is why +the great scholars, who figure like Barreme, know no more of life and +the heart than Livette and Renaud--who knew nothing at all. + +They knew naught save that they were alive and that they wished to +love each other and that they sought and shunned each other at the +same moment--but they did not ask each other why. They said nothing. +They felt. They could not say to each other that rivalry and jealousy, +that is to say grief, serve the designs of nature, whose purpose +doubtless is, by arousing those emotions, to quicken desire, so that +creation may be assured by outbursts of passion, and the future of +mankind by the imperious need of pleasure. + +What does the law care for the weak and the vanquished? the strong +alone, they say, it wishes to perpetuate. + +Pity and justice are human inventions, and will never triumph until +they have been slowly assimilated by the human mind to the matter of +which it is made. + +They suffered, they longed for happiness--beneath that mystery-laden +spring sky. They awaited the coming of their joy, they summoned their +every hope, and they gazed at the dark horizon, at the desert, where +the tracts of sand shone like mirrors among the dark reeds, and the +ponds glistening with salt between the black lines of tamarisks. They +gazed upon the boundless expanse in which they seemed lost, and where, +nevertheless, they felt that they alone were an epitome of everything; +they listened, without hearing them, to the unending noises of the +island,--the murmuring of the water, the rustling of the reeds, the +waving foliage, the growling of wandering beasts, the distant roaring +of two rolling rivers and a restless sea;--and this combined voice of +the whole island formed a fitting accompaniment, by reason of the +extent and number of the sounds that composed it, to the silent +twinkling of the stars, that no one hears. + +There was in the park, invisible to them at that hour, a foreign tree, +on which the flowers could be seen, by daylight, opening with a slight +noise. They sometimes amused themselves by watching that tree, said to +have come from Syria. A slight report, as if muffled, and a tiny +cloud, of very powerful odor, would issue from the bursting cell. The +tree continued, during the night, to send out its dust of passions in +quest of prey, and its strange perfume was wafted upward to the +lovers. + +They trembled with joy at the slightest contact with each other. Ah! +if she could but have given him, on that beautiful May evening, all +the love his lusty youth demanded; if he could but have felt her +clinging lips melt beneath his burning ones, upon that lofty terrace +overlooking the rounded tops of the huge trees in the park, beneath +that dark star-spangled sky, doubtless his little betrothed would +have remained sole mistress of his heart! + +But there were too many obstacles between Livette and Renaud; and as +he struggled virtuously to keep away from her, his thoughts flew off +to the other. + +And Livette was already conscious of the heartache of the deserted +lover. All the broad expanse of level country that her eyes knew so +well, and that she felt about her in the darkness, suddenly seemed +empty to her, a desert in very truth, and thereby to resemble her own +heart. And softly, silently, she began to weep,--whereupon one of the +great farm dogs, her favorite, who had been seeking her in every +direction, came up to her and licked her hand as it hung at her side. + +And down yonder, far down above the dark line of the sea, Renaud, +meanwhile, fancied that he saw a naked woman's form emerge from the +water, and await his coming, suspended in mid-air, or standing on the +surface of the waves. + +"Livette! Livette!" + +It was the grandmother's voice calling. + +They went down without exchanging a word. + +"Good-night, Monsieur Jacques," said the maiden. + +"Good-night, mademoiselle," Renaud replied. + +So they called each other monsieur and mademoiselle that night, and, a +moment after they had parted, Renaud took his horse from the stable in +perfect silence, and rode away. + +His heart did not tell him that Livette, at her window, watched him +depart, her eyes filled with tears. + +"Where is he going?" + +She followed for a moment with her glance the luminous point (the +reflection of a star upon the head of the drover's spear) dancing +about in the darkness among the trees like a will-o'-the-wisp,--and +when that spark went out, she no longer saw the stars. + + + + +XI + +THE HIDING-PLACE + + +Whither he was going he had no idea. He rode at random under the spur +of the energy that was rampant within him, demanding to be expended. + +Love guided him as he himself guided his horse. He was the rider of +his own steed, and at the same time the accursed steed of the passion +that impelled him, spurred him on, shouted to him: "Forward!" guided +this way and that, without purpose, his mad race across the moor. He, +too, was mounted, harassed, bridled, whipped, bit in mouth, raging and +powerless. And the horse shared the mad humor of his master, who was +under the spell of love, so that Blanchet, wearied though he was by +his day's labor, having had but a very brief rest, was wild with +excitement none the less. Fortunately, he knew all the ditches and +canals and bogs, and, in his rapid flight with the reins lying on his +neck, he chose his own road. Sometimes he would slacken his pace on +approaching a ditch, in order to walk down into it, head first, +compelling his rider to stand in his great stirrups, with his back +touching the croup: sometimes he leaped them at full speed. + +Drunken, bareheaded,--his hat having blown away somewhere in the +darkness,--the wind whistling through his hair, Renaud rode, for the +sake of riding, because the violence of his pace corresponded to the +violence of the passions that were raging within him. He tore along as +a beast does in the rutting season, from its mad desire to be alone. + +And he said to himself that it was abominable to think of the other, +when he had for his own that flower of beauty, chastity and sweetness; +but he was thirsting for something very different; and he was +conscious of an intensely bitter taste in his mouth, a clinging, dry +saliva, a moisture that made his thirst the more unbearable. + +Powerless to devise a means of escape from all the evil impulses in +his heart, he rode on confessing to two longings: either to meet +Rampal and take vengeance upon him for everything, or else to fall +over backward into a ditch and rise no more, thus giving a different +turn to his evil destiny;--and a third longing which he did not admit +even to himself: to meet the gipsy at daybreak, begging at the door of +some farm.--And then?--He did not know! + +Suddenly he thought that he heard a beating of hoofs behind him, the +echo of his own gallop; he turned and saw--he saw in very +truth!--pursuing him at full speed, the naked gipsy, sitting firmly +astride her saddle, man-fashion, upon a shadowy horse whose feet did +not touch the ground. + +She flew through the air, laughing in mockery as she cried to him: + +"Stop, coward!" + +He said to himself that it was not real, but he did not say to himself +that it was a vision; he thought: "It is witchcraft!" and fear seized +upon him, fear as powerful as his desire, and he fled from the image +of her he sought. + +He turned to look no more; he fled. He heard the double gallop still: +his own and the other's. He rode through the transparent mist that +hovered over the damp, salt sand; and as he cut through those crawling +clouds it seemed to him as if he were riding through the sky, above +the higher clouds. In very truth, his brain was wandering, for love +will be obeyed, and his youthful passion was like insanity. + +Suddenly Blanchet's four legs, as he flew over the ground, became +motionless and rigid as stakes, and his shoeless feet began to slide +over an absolutely smooth surface of clay, hard as iron and as +slippery as if it had been soaped. Swiftly the horse slid along, +digging furrows with his hoofs upon the polished surface, and when he +lost his acquired momentum, he stopped, tried to resume his former +pace, raised one foot and fell heavily to the ground, exhausted, his +mouth and nostrils breathing despair. + +In an instant, Renaud, leaning on his spear, which he had not let go, +stood at his horse's head, struggling to lift him up, and encouraging +him with his voice. Blanchet, supported by the rein in his master's +hand, regained his feet after two fruitless slides. + +Renaud looked about: there was nothing to be seen save darkness, the +desert, the stars,--tatters of pallid mist that strayed hither and +thither, as if clinging to a bush, a tamarisk, a clump of rushes,--and +assumed, from time to time, the shape of fantastic animals. + +Renaud mounted Blanchet once more, but he was moved to pity for him. +And the horse, sometimes letting himself slide upon his shoeless feet, +his four legs perfectly stiff, sometimes putting one foot before the +other, testing the ground, which was firm and hard beneath his weight, +but soft beneath his sharp, scaly hoof, carried him at last away from +the clayey tract. + +Pity and remorse at once were awakened in Renaud's heart by Livette's +horse. + +What right had he, the drover, to ruin the favorite steed of his +darling fiancee in the service of his passion for a witch? + +So Renaud dismounted, removed Blanchet's saddle and bridle, and said +to him: "Go! do what you will." Then he cut a bundle of reeds with +which he made himself a bed, and lay upon his back, with his saddle +under his head and a handkerchief over his face, waiting for dawn. + +He fell into a heavy sleep, during which his trouble swelled and +burst within him, forced its way out, and took on form and +feature.--The same vision constantly returned. + +When he awoke, two hours later, he found his cheeks wet with tears and +his hands over his face. Then he took pity upon himself, and, having +begun to weep in his dream, he let the tears flow freely that he would +have forced back had they sought an outlet on the previous day. + +He deemed himself a miserable wretch, and wept over his fate, at first +madly, convulsively, and then with joy, as if, in weeping, he had +poured out all his sorrow forever. He wept to think that he was +caught, powerless, between two contrary, irreconcilable things: that +he wished for the one, and thirsted, against his will, for the other. +He beat his hands upon the ground; he tore his cravat, which strangled +him; he ground the reeds with his teeth, and cried aloud like a +child,--he, an orphan: + +"O God! my mother!" + +And he would have wept on for a long while, perhaps, and emptied the +springs of bitterness in his heart, had he not suddenly felt a warm +caress--two soft, warm, moist caresses upon his cheek, his forehead, +his closed eyes. + +He half opened his eyelids and saw Blanchet standing beside him, +touching his face with his pendant lip as he used to touch Livette's +hand when in search of a bit of sugar. + +Another animal had imitated Blanchet; it was the _dondaire_, Le Doux, +the drover's favorite, the leader of his drove of wild bulls and cows, +whose bell he had not heard, but who had recognized his master. + +The compassion of these two dumb animals aggravated Renaud's bitter +grief at first. Like children, who begin to howl as soon as you +sympathize with them, he, when he found he was so wretched as to +arouse the pity of beasts, cried aloud in his heart, but stifled the +cry at his throat; then, touched at the sight of their kindly faces, +and distracted thereby from his own thoughts, he became suddenly calm, +sat up, put out his hand toward the muzzles of the powerful yet docile +creatures, and spoke to them: + +"Good fellows, good fellows! oh! yes, good fellows!" + +Day began to break. And the great black bull and the white horse, +both, as if in answer to the man and in answer likewise to the first +gleam of returning day, which sent a thrill of delight over all the +plain, stretched out their necks toward the east; and the neighing of +the horse arose, loud and shrill as a flourish of trumpets, sustained +by the bass of the bull's bellowing. + +Instantly a chorus of neighs and bellows arose on all sides of Renaud. +His free drove had passed the night in the neighborhood. He was +surrounded by the familiar forms of his own beasts. + +They came at the call of Blanchet and Le Doux and the drover's voice. +The mares were white as salt. Some of them came trotting up, some +galloping, some followed by their foals; and passed their heads +between the reeds, peered curiously in, and stood there,--or else, +with a cunning air, set off again, as who should say: "There's the +tamer, let us be off!" And there was a great kicking and flinging of +heels away from the man's side. + +Some bulls, thin, nervous black fellows, whipping their sides with +their long tails, also came up, took alarm, remembering that they had +been punished for some shortcoming, and, turning tail, decamped in the +same way, and when they were out of sight, suddenly stopped. + +But as the _dondaire_ remained there, few of the horses and cattle +left the spot. + +Some, the oldest or the wisest, slowly assumed a kneeling posture, as +if to resume their interrupted repose, then, scenting the approaching +sun, wound their tongues about the tufts of salt grass, drew them into +their mouths and chewed placidly, while the silvery foam fell from +their muzzles. + +Others, in the same posture, lazily licked their sides. A mother, +nursing her calf, watched him with a calm, gentle eye. + +Here a stallion drew near a mare, reached her side in two bounds, with +tail in air and bristling mane, and bold, sonorous, trumpet-like +call--then reared, and when the mare leaped aside, bit at her and with +a sudden sidewise movement dodged the kick she aimed at him. + +More than one bull, too, paid court to the other sex, rose clumsily +on his hind legs, only to fall again on his four feet, with nothing +beneath him. + +The awakening of the drove was not complete. The animals were still +dull and heavy. They were awaiting the coming of the sun. + +Renaud approached a half-broken stallion he had sometimes ridden, and +threw over his neck the _seden_ he had just coiled for that +purpose--Livette's _seden_ and Blanchet's, all stained with mud from +having brought so many beasts to earth. + +He gave sugar to the wild creature, who allowed himself to be saddled +without overmuch resistance, desirous, perhaps, to enjoy for a day the +abundant supply of hay in the stables of the chateau, which he had not +forgotten. + +"Go and rest, old fellow!" said Renaud to Blanchet. + +And he set off on his fresh steed, spear in hand, with the idea of +seeking Rampal. + +The stallion he rode was his favorite, the one he had named Prince. +And he felt a thrill of honest satisfaction as he said to himself that +at all events Livette's horse would not have to put up with his whims +and follies as a lover any more. He felt highly pleased at that +thought, being lightened of a threefold responsibility, as rider, +drover, and lover. + +Prince seemed disappointed when Renaud compelled him to turn his back +on the Chateau d'Avignon. + +He rode in the direction of the cabin mentioned by Audiffret. It was +very possible, after all, that Rampal had taken up his quarters there, +and he proposed to find out. Now, as this cabin was, as we have seen, +not in Camargue, but in Crau, not far from the Icard farm, between +nine and ten leagues to the eastward, it was necessary to cross the +main stream of the Rhone. But, in that vast plain, men rode long +distances for a _yes_ or a _no_, and thirty or forty kilometres had no +terrors for Renaud. + +From his present position, it seemed to him that his shortest road +would be to skirt the southern shore of the Vaccares. + +The cool, fresh morning air drove away all his black thoughts, his +visions and nightmares; he felt something like tranquillity. Moreover, +he was so overdone with weariness that he seemed half-asleep, and the +feeling was delicious. He no longer had the strength to follow his +thoughts, still less to guide them, so that he was submissive as a +blade of grass, as any inanimate thing, to the passing breeze, to the +sun's rays. + +The hour and the coloring of the earth and sky were in very truth +enough to rejoice the heart, and physical gaiety took possession of +him, as he had ceased to reflect. + +A fresh breeze, smelling of the sea, sent a shiver over the water and +the grass. The sun was rising. A moment more and he would appear to +cast his net of gold horizontally over the plain. He appeared. The +vague murmurs became distinct sounds; reflection changed to brilliant +light, drowsiness to activity. + +Renaud, who was galloping along with his spear resting in his stirrup, +his head leaning heavily on the arm that held it and his eyes closed, +under the influence of the rocking motion of the horse, suddenly +reopened them, and looked about with the joyous glance of a king. + +He paused a moment to gaze at a huge plough drawn by several horses, +which was transforming a wretched stony field into cleared land ready +for the vine. + +The phylloxera, which has done so much harm in rich and healthy +districts, affords Camargue a new opportunity to fight the fever and +to gain ground on the swamp. The sand is, in fact, very favorable to +the vine and very unfavorable to the parasitic insect, and this watery +country will gradually become, please God, a genuine land of the vine! + +Renaud watched the ploughman with a feeling of delight at the thought +of his native country being enriched by honest toil; and with a +confused feeling of regret, too, for he preferred that the moor should +remain uncultivated and wild and free. The idea of a flat plain, +tilled from end to end, where no room was left for the straying feet +of horses as God made them--that idea saddened him. + +He would always say to himself as he rode through more civilized +regions: "Now there, you know, a man can neither live nor die." + +The fields of wheat or oats, even in the summer season when they have +such a lovely reddish tinge, so like the overheated earth, so like the +turbid, gleaming waters of the Rhone, had no attraction for him. They +gave him the impression of an obstacle that he must ride his horse +around, and Renaud did not recognize the respectability of any +obstacle--except the sea! + +He was more inclined to look favorably upon the vine, because it +seemed to him that it was a glorious thing for his country to produce +wine, just at the time when other districts in France had exhausted +their producing power. And then, the Rhone, the _mistral_, horses, +bulls, and wine, all seemed to him to go together, as things that told +of holiday-making, of manly strength and courage and joy. They knew +how to drink, never fear, did the men of Saint-Gilles and Arles and +Avignon. Renaud had attended wedding-parties more than once on the +island of Barthelasse in the middle of the Rhone, opposite Avignon, +and there he had tasted a red wine whose color he could still see. It +was an old Rhone wine, so they had told him, and he remembered that, +being desirous to do honor to the wine as well as to the bride, and +being a little exhilarated, he had solemnly thrown his cup into the +Rhone after the last bumper. There are, at the bottom of the Rhone, +many such cups, dead but not broken, from which joy was quaffed but +yesterday. They go gently down, turning over and over, through the +water to its sandy bed. There they sleep, covered with sand, and two +or three thousand years hence--who knows?--the venerable scholars of +that day will discover them, as they are discovering amphorae of baked +earth at Trinquetaille to-day, and now and then beside them a glass +urn, wherein all the colors of the rainbow chase one another about as +soon as its robe of dust is removed. + +Who can say that Renaud's brittle glass, from which he drank the best +wine of his youth, will not remain for ages full of the sand and water +of the Rhone, and that--in days to come--other youths will not find +therein the same delight? For everything begins anew. + +Thus did the wanderer's thoughts wander from point to point, from vine +to glass. Ah! that glass of his, thrown into the Rhone! His mind +recurred once more to that memory of a debauch. It seemed to him now, +that, by throwing it into the river on the wedding-day, he had +foretold his own destiny, and that he, Livette's fiance, would never +be married! He would drink no more from the discarded glass. + +The first impulse of delight that came to him with the newness of the +morning had already passed; his sadness had returned as the day lost +the charm that attaches to a thing just beginning. + +Dreaming thus, Renaud rode across the marshes, Prince splashing +through the water up to his thighs. + +Yes, my friends, he forgave the vine, did Renaud, for invading +Camargue. + +Moreover, after the harvest was gathered, did not the red and white +vineyards afford excellent pasturage for the bulls? There are some +that are all red in the autumn, and others all white, or of a light +golden yellow--as if the vines had amused themselves by reproducing +the two colors of the wine under the gorgeous sunsets. He has seen +nothing who has not seen the beams of the setting sun, in November, +now yellow as gold, now red as blood, spreading over a field of red +vines, over a field of yellow vines, which themselves spread out as +far as the eye can reach. Indeed, is not Camargue the home of the +_lambrusque_? The _lambrusque_ is the wild, Camarguese vine, different +from our cultivated vines in that the male and female are on separate +plants. The grapes that grow on the female _lambrusque_ make a +somewhat tart but pleasant wine, and the shoots of the vine make +light, stout staves for the hand. + +Arrived at Grand Patis, Renaud swam the Rhone three times, from +Camargue to Ile Mouton, from Ile Mouton to Ile Saint-Pierre, and from +Ile Saint-Pierre to the mainland. + +He was now in the swamps of Crau, a stony desert adjoining Camargue, +which is a desert of mud. + +To the eye these two deserts seem to join hands across the Rhone. From +Aigues-Mortes to the pond of Berre is a pretty stretch of flat +country, my friends, and the sea-eagle, try as he may, cannot make it +less than twenty good leagues in a straight line! And that is the +kingdom of King Renaud. + +Camargue has its saltwort, its grain and plantains and burdocks, +growing in small clumps, with sandy intervals between; it has its +_gapillons_, which are green rushes split into bouquets, with +thousands of sharp points finer than needles; and here and there +tamarisk-trees; and, on the banks of the two Rhones, great elms, so +often cut and hacked to procure wood to burn, that they resemble huge +caterpillars sitting erect upon their tails, their short hair +bristling as if in anger. + +Crau is a land of naked plains and heather. It is, to tell the truth, +a veritable field of stones. They have come, people say, from Mont +Blanc, all the stones that now lie sleeping there. The Rhone and the +Durance have borne them down, then changed their beds, after having +jousted together on the vast space at the foot of the little Alps. +From beneath the stones of Crau, in May, there springs a rare, +delicate plant, the _paturin_, or dog's tooth. The sheep push the +stone away with their noses and browse upon the slender stalks while +the shepherd stands and dreams in the wind and sun. + +But this stony Crau is farther away, beyond the pond of Ligagnou, +which skirts the river. Here, in the Crau that lies along the banks of +the Rhone, we are in the midst of the marshes, which are dry during +the greater part of the year; some of them, however, are very +treacherous, and one should know them well. + +Renaud rode in a northeasterly direction, and soon reached the +neighborhood of the Icard farm. + +He drew rein. + +"Where is the hiding-place?" he muttered. + +And he tried with all his eyes to pierce the thick underbrush of +reeds, rushes, cat-tails, sedges, and bull-rushes, springing from the +midst of a deep bog. This bog did not seem, to the eye, more +formidable than another, but the bulls and mares feared it and +carefully avoided it. + +On the surface of the water was what looked like a thick crust of +mouldy verdure. It was not, however, the leprous formation of +duck-weed that lies sleeping on our stagnant ponds. It was a sort of +felt-like substance, composed of dead rushes, roots, twined and +twisted weeds, which made a solid but movable crust upon the water, +swaying beneath the feet that ventured upon it, ready to bear their +weight for a moment and ready to give way beneath them. + +This crust (the _transtaiere_) was broken with fissures here and +there, through which the water could be seen, dark as night, its +surface flecked with transient specks of light, gleaming like a mirror +of black glass. Around the edges, at the foot of the scattered +tamarisks, grew reeds innumerable in thick clusters, always rustling +against one another, and incessantly brushed, with a noise like +rustling paper, by the slender wings of the dragon-flies with their +monster-like heads. + +Many of these _caneous_ bear white flowers streaked with purple. As +they rise above one another on the long stalks, you would take them +for the flowers of a tall marsh-mallow. These reeds, with their long +leaves, remind one of the _thyrsi_ of antiquity, left standing there +in the damp earth by bacchantes who have gone to rest somewhere near +at hand in the shade of the tamarisks, or to abandon themselves to the +centaurs. They make one think, also, of the wand of the fable, which, +when planted in the ground, was at once covered with flowers, and +thereby had power over marriages. + +These _thyrsi_ of the bog are reeds besieged by climbing plants. The +convolvulus fastens itself to the reed, twines its arms about it, +rises in a spiral course, seeks the sunlight at its summit, and robes +the long murmuring stalk in brilliant and harmonious colors. + +The sharp leaves of the young reeds stand erect like lance-heads. The +older ones break off and fell at right angles. The delicate, graceful +foliage of the tamarisks is like a transparent cloud, and their little +pink flowers, hanging in clusters that are too heavy for the branches, +especially before they open, cause the flexible plumes of the +gracefully rounded tree-top to bend in every direction. + +Through the reeds and tamarisks Renaud sought to discover the hut that +he knew, and that Audiffret had spoken of to him the night before. But +he could hardly distinguish the little inclined cross placed at the +highest point of the roof of all the Camargue cabins, which are built +of joists, boards, grayish mud (_tape_), and straw. The cabin was +formerly entirely visible from the spot where he stood, but the reeds +had grown so thickly on the islet on which it was built, that they +completely hid it. The path leading to it was on the opposite side of +the bog. He must make a wide detour in order to reach it, the bog _de +la Cabane_, so called, being of a very erratic shape. + +From the south side of the cabin he went around to the north side. He +no longer had the _transtaiere_ in front of him; but beneath the +surface of the water, where reeds and thorn-broom flourish, was the +_gargate_, the slime, wherein he who steps foot is quickly buried. + +There are many other dangers in these accursed bogs. There are the +_lorons_, a sort of bottomless well found here and there under the +water, the location of which must be thoroughly understood. The mares +and heifers know them and are clever in avoiding them, but now and +then one of them falls in, and now and then a man as well. And he who +falls in remains. No time for argument, my man! You are in--adieu! + +The drovers will tell you, and it is the truth, that from every +_loron_ comes a little twisting column of smoke, by which those mouths +of hell can be located. A hundred _lorons_, a hundred columns of +smoke. There, my friends, is something to dream about, is it not, when +the malignant fever, bred in the swamps, smites you on the hip? + +Renaud was anxious to know if Rampal was occupying the cabin, but not +to attack him there, for it is a treacherous spot. "If he is there, he +will come out some time or other. I will wait for him on the solid +ground. Ah! I see the path!" + +It was a winding path hiding under a sheet of shallow water. The bed +of the path was of stones, very narrow but very firm, the right edge +being marked, as far as the cabin, by stakes at short intervals, just +on a level with the water. + +Renaud dismounted, and looked for the first stake, holding his horse +by the rein. Although he knew its location, it took him some time to +find it. With the end of his spear he put aside the grass, and when he +discovered the stake, he felt for the solid road whose width it +measured. Bending over, he gazed long and very closely at the grasses +and the reeds, which met in places above the concealed pathway, and +when he rose he was certain that it had not been used for some time. + +He was not mistaken. In truth, Rampal was a little suspicious of that +hiding-place, which was too well known, he thought, and to which he +could easily be traced. He often slept in the neighborhood, ready to +take refuge in the _cul-de-sac_, if it should become necessary, but he +preferred, meanwhile, to feel at liberty, with plenty of open space +about him. + +Renaud remounted Prince, and crossed the Rhone again an hour later. + +That night he lay in one of the great cabins which serve as +stables--winter _jasses_--for the droves of mares, in those months +when the weather is so bad that the bulls can find no pasturage except +by breaking the ice with their horns. + +The next day, an hour before noon, he saw before him the church of +Saintes-Maries standing out like a lofty ship against the blue +background of the sea. + +Little black curlews were flying hither and thither around it, mingled +with a flock of great sea-gulls with gracefully rounded wings. + +A cart was moving slowly over the sandy road. + +"Good-day, Renaud." + +"Good-day, Marius. Where are you going?" + +"To carry fish to Arles." + +Marius raised the branches which apparently made up his load, but +which were simply used to shade a dozen or more baskets and hampers. +Well pleased with his freight, he put aside the cloth that was spread +over his treasure under the branches. Baskets and hampers were filled +to the brim with fish taken in the ponds and the sea. There were +mullet and bream, still alive, animated prisms with mouths and gills +wide open like bright red marine flowers amid a mass of dark-blue, +olive-green, and gleaming gold. There were enormous eels, too, caught +for the most part in the canals of Camargue, which are veritable +fish-preserves. + +The dark-hued, slippery creatures twisted in and out, tying and +untying endless slip-knots with their snake-like bodies. By the livid +spots upon some of the great eels, Renaud recognized them as _muraenae_, +possessors of voracious mouths, well stocked with sharp teeth. + +"See how they all keep moving!" said Marius. + +At that moment, as if to justify his words, a great flat fish flapped +out of one of the baskets and fell to the ground. + +With the end of his three-pronged spear the mounted drover nailed him +to the earth to prevent his leaping into the ditch, filled with water, +that ran along the road. + +"Hallo!" said he in surprise, "isn't that a cramp-fish. When I spear +one of them with my regular fish-spear, which is longer than this +three-pronged one, it gives me a shock I didn't feel at all to-day." + +"That's because the fish is in the water then, and your spear is +damp," said Marius, laughing. "But let the fellow stay there," he +added. "He isn't worth much. The snakes will have a feast on him." + +Thereupon, horseman and fisherman went their respective ways. + +The drover's thoughts wandered from the cramp-fish and the _muraenae_ to +the electric fish of America, of which old sailors had spoken to him. +They had told him that it was charged with electricity like the +cramp-fish, but resembled the conger more in shape, and that it could, +with its overpowering current, kill a horse; in order to make it +exhaust its stock of electricity, so that it can safely be taken, it +is customary to send wild horses into the water against it; they +receive the first shock, and sometimes die from the effects. + +As he rode on toward Saintes-Maries, Renaud mused in a vague way upon +the miracles of life, which there is naught to explain. + + + + +XII + +A SORCERESS + + +Livette did not go to sleep. When Renaud had passed out of sight in +the darkness, she softly closed her windows, and, throwing herself on +the bed with her face buried in the pillow, wept in dismay. + +Meanwhile,--while Livette was weeping and Renaud, bewitched, was +galloping over the moor, fancying that he was pursued by the +gipsy,--the gipsy herself was asleep. + +The two beings whose lives she was beginning to destroy were already +suffering a thousand deaths, and she, lying, fully dressed, under one +of the carts of her tribe, in their regularly pitched camp outside the +village, was sleeping tranquilly, her pretty, puzzling face smiling at +the stars of that lovely May night. + +When Renaud left her, at sunset, all naked on the beach, she had +slowly stretched her sun-burned arms, taking pleasure in the sense of +being naked in the open air, of feeling the caressing breath of the +sea-breeze that dried the great drops of water rolling down her body. +Then, still slowly, she had dressed herself,--very slowly, in order to +postpone as long as possible the renewed subjection to the annoyance +of clothes, in order to enjoy unrestricted freedom of movement, like a +wild beast. + +She had then walked along the beach, leaving the imprint of her bare, +well-shaped foot in the sand, covered at intervals by a shallow wave +that gradually washed away the mark. + +The last kiss of the sea upon her feet, to which a bit of sparkling +sand clung, delighted her. She laughed at the water, played with it, +avoiding it sometimes with a sudden leap, and sometimes going forward +to meet it, teasing it. + +She fancied that she could see, in the undulating folds of the +wavelets, the tame snakes which she sometimes charmed with the notes +of a flute, and which would thereupon come to her and twine about her +arms and neck, and which were at that moment waiting for her, lying on +their bed of wool at the bottom of their box in her wagon. + +She had already ceased to think of Renaud. She was always swayed by +the dominating thought of the moment, never feeling regret or remorse +for what was past,--having no power of foresight, except by flashes, +at such times as passion and self-interest bade her exert it. Her +reflection was but momentary, by fits and starts, so to speak; and +her depth, her power, the mystery that surrounded her, were due to her +having no heart, and, consequently, no conscience. + +The men and women who approached her might hope or fear something at +her hands, imagine that she had determined upon this or that course, +and try to defeat her plan; but she never had any plan, which fact led +them astray beforehand. + +She routed her enemies and triumphed over them, first of all, by +indifference; and then she would abruptly cast aside her indolence, +like an animal, at the bidding of a passion or a whim, and would still +render naught every means of defence--her attack, her decisions, her +clever wiles, being always spontaneous, born of circumstances as they +presented themselves. + +No: she made no plans beforehand, in cold blood; she never concocted +any complicated scheme; but she could, at need, invent one on the spur +of the moment and carry it out instantly, at a breath,--or perhaps she +would begin to execute it in frantic haste, and abandon it almost +immediately from sheer _ennui_, to think no more of it until the day +that some burst of passion should suddenly bring it back to her mind. + +She was like a spider spinning its whole web in the twinkling of an +eye to catch the fly on the wing; or she would spin the first thread +only, and forget it until something happened to remind her to spin a +second. + +Thus constituted, she was at the same time better and worse than +other women, because she was more changeable than the surface of the +water,--because she was of the color of the moment. + +Being a fatalist, the gipsy said to herself that whatever is to +happen, happens, and she had never taken the trouble to devise a +scheme of revenge. She would simply utter a threat, knowing well that +the terror inspired by a prediction is the first calamity that +prepares the way for others, by disturbing the mind and heart and +judgment. And then, something always goes wrong in the course of a +year, collaborating, so to speak, with the sorcerer, and attributed by +the victim to the "evil spell" cast upon him. It is upon him, in +reality, because he believes that it is. In short, if opportunity +offered, she would assist the mischievous propensities of fate, with a +word, a gesture, a trifle--and, if opportunity did offer, it was +because it was decreed long ages ago, written in the book of destiny +that so it should be! + +A true creature of instinct, the gipsy had no other secret than that +she had none. + +She followed her impulses, satisfied her desire for revenge, her love +or her hate, without stopping to consider anything or anybody; and, +like the wild beast, she, a human being, became an object of dread to +civilized people, as nature itself is. Such creatures are implacable. +The gipsy loved life, and lived as animals live, without reflection. +It was the paltry yet profound mystery of the sphinx repeated. Her +actions were those of a brute, not far removed from the lower types of +mankind, notwithstanding her lovely human face, in which the eyes, +like Pan's, not clear, seemed veiled with falsehood because they were +veiled to their own sight with their own lack of knowledge, their +uncertainty and suspense. Look at the eyes of a goat or a heifer. They +are as deep as Bestiality, cunning and strong, cowering in the shadow +of the sacred wood. Life longs to live. It is lying in ambush there. +It is sure of her and bides its time. The human beast not only has +more craft than the fox or tiger, but has the power of speech as well. +Nothing is more horrible than words without a conscience. + +After all, Zinzara was always sincere, although she never appeared so, +because her versatility placed her from moment to moment in +contradiction with herself. + +The caress and the wound that one received from her in rapid +succession did not prove that she had feigned love or hate. She did, +in fact, love and hate by turns, from moment to moment, or rather, +without loving or hating, she acted in accordance with her own fancy, +sincere in her contradictions--and very artlessly withal. + +She bore some resemblance to the ape, as it sits among the branches, +softly rocking its little one in its arms with an almost human air, +then suddenly relaxes its hold and lets its offspring fall, forgotten, +to the ground, in order to pluck a fruit that hangs near by. + +She was a personage of importance in her own eyes, and she saw nobody +but herself at all times and under all circumstances. + +The gipsy was formidable, as a spirit concealed in an element whose +slave it should be. She had the force of a thunderbolt, of an +earthquake, of any fatal occurrence impossible to foresee or to ward +off. + +The viper is not evil-minded. He does not prepare his own venom. He +finds it all prepared. Disturb him, and he bites before he makes up +his mind to do it. + +Like the cramp-fish or the electric eel, the gipsy could discharge a +fatal current of electricity as soon as you approached her,--by virtue +of the very necessity of existence. It might happen to her also to +indulge in the sport of exerting her malignant power around her, for +no reason, simply to watch its effects, because it was her day and her +hour, her whim. + +She had the same means of defence and amusement. + +It was not in her nature to be malignant. It simply was not necessary +for her to think of you, that was all. As a matter of fact, a man was +fortunate if she did not look at him. + +Although born of a race that holds chastity in high esteem, she was +not chaste; not that she loved debauchery above everything else, but +she used it as a means of domination,--the more unfailing because she +made little account of it. Always superior, in her coldness, to the +passion she inspired, it was in that more than all else that she +really felt herself a queen, a sorceress--aye, a goddess, by favor of +the devil! The caress of the water in which she bathed afforded her +more pleasure than it afforded others. She was like the female plant +of the _lambrusque_, which is fertilized by the wind. + +Like the mares of Camargue, that often assemble on the shore to +breathe the fresh sea air,--when she opened her lips to the salty +breeze, on those fine May evenings, she was happier than any man's +kiss could make her. The wandering spirit of her race breathed upon +her lips, in the air, with the freedom of the boundless waste--a vague +hope, vain and unending. + +Being thus constituted, she knew that she exercised a disturbing +influence upon others, and that she was herself protected by something +that relieved her of responsibility. That thought filled her with +pride. There was a reflection of that pride in her smile. There was +also the constant remembrance of the sensations she had experienced, +known to her alone, and a certain number of men, who knew nothing of +one another. + +Their ignorance, which was her work, also made her smile. And that +smile was a mixture of irony and contempt. She knew her own strength +and their weakness. So she was always smiling. + +With no other policy than this, she reigned over her nomadic tribe, +changing her favorite, like a genuine queen, as chance or her own +impulses willed, but giving each one of them to believe that he was +the only man she had ever really loved, even if he were not her first +lover. + +To deceive the _zingari_--that was a notable triumph for a _zingara_! + +Among the fifteen or twenty children in her party, there was a young +dauphin, the queen's offspring; but since he had left her breast, she +had bestowed no more care upon him than the bitch bestows upon her +puppy some day to become her mate. + +When she came near her camping-ground, excited by her recent contact +with the waves and the salt, which, as it dried upon her, pressed +against her soft, velvety flesh, the gipsy, tingling with warmth in +every vein, cast a sidelong glance at one of the male members of the +tribe, a young man with a bronzed skin and thin, curly beard. + +And, in the darkness,--when they had eaten the soup cooked in the +kettle that hung from three stakes in the open air,--the _zingaro_ +glided to the _zingara's_ side. + +At that very moment, by her fault, two human beings were suffering in +the inmost recesses of their consciences, where Livette and Renaud +were gazing at each other with eyes in which there was no look of +recognition. + +The betrothed lovers, her victims, were struggling under the evil +spell cast upon them by her glance, at the moment that that glance +seemed to grow tender in response to that with which her lover +enveloped her, on the edge of the ditch, beneath the feeble light of +the stars. + +Renaud at that moment was dreaming that he had seen the naked gipsy +again and triumphed over her, and was asking himself, at the memory of +that robust, youthful form, if she were not a virgin, even though a +child of the high-road; recalling confusedly a strange, overpowering, +absolute passion, the triumphal possession of a new being, a heifer +hitherto wild and vicious, even to the bulls; of a mare that had never +known bit or saddle, and had maintained a rebellious attitude in +presence of the stallion. + +Renaud was dreaming all that, but Renaud no longer existed for +Zinzara. + +Zinzara, just at that moment, in the dew-drenched grass, was writhing +about like the legendary conger-eel, that comes out of the sea to +abandon itself to the labyrinthine caresses of the reptiles on the +shore. + +Two days Livette waited, wondering what was taking place. Weary at +last of seeking without finding, she set out for Saintes-Maries on the +morning of the third day. + +"There," she thought, "I may, perhaps, hear some news." + +Her father saddled an honest old horse for her use. + +"You must go to Tonin the fisherman's at noon," said he, "and eat your +_bouille-abaisse_. Send him word, when you arrive, with a good-day +from me." + +Livette, as she rode along, looked about her at the peaceful green +fields, joyous and bright in the light that fell from the sky and the +light that rose on all sides from the water. + +The gnats danced merrily in the sunbeams. When the gnats dance, they +furnish the music for the ball with their wings, and on calm days +there is a sound like the strumming of a guitar on the golden strings +of light over all the plain. There were also in the air long, slender +threads,--the "threads of the Virgin," or gossamer,--come from no one +knows where, which waved gently to and fro, as if some of the fragile +strings of the invisible instrument on which the little musicians of +the air perform, being broken, had become visible, and were floating +away at the pleasure of a breath. + +It may be that those threads came from a long distance. It may be that +the toiling spiders who patiently spun them lived in the forests of +the Moors, in Esterel. A breath of air had taken them up very gently, +and now they were on their travels. + +Livette watched them floating quietly by, and thought of a tale her +grandmother had told her. According to the grandmother, the threads +came from the cloaks spread to the wind as sails by the three holy +women. The wind, as it filled them, had unravelled them a little, very +carefully; and the slender threads, taken long ago from the woof of +the miraculous cloaks, hover forever above the sands of Camargue, +where stands the church of the holy women.--Above the strand they +hover night and day, as so many tokens of God's blessing; but they are +rarely visible, and if, by chance, on a fine day, you do see them, it +means that some great good fortune is in store for you. + +In the transparent azure of the morning sky Livette's heart clung to +each of the passing threads; but the child tried in vain to acquire +confidence,--her heart was too heavy to remain long attached to the +fleeting things. She was afraid, poor child, and felt influences at +work against her that she could not see. + +Alas! while the golden threads floated over her head, the black spider +was weaving his web somewhere about, to catch her like a fly. + +Still musing, Livette rode on, and could distinguish at last, far +before her, the swallows and martins soaring above the steeple. They +were so far away you would have said they were swarms of gnats. And +with the swallows and martins were numberless sea-mews. This host of +wings, large and small, now dark as seen from below, now bright and +gleaming as seen from above, turned and twirled and gyrated in +countless intricate, interlacing circles. Instinct with the spirit of +the spring-time and the morning, they were frolicking in the fresh, +clear air. + +It occurred to Livette to ride by the public spring in quest of +news, for it was the hour when the women and maidens of +Saintes-Maries-de-la-Mer go thither to procure their daily supply of +water. + +As she entered the village, she noticed the gipsy camp at her right +hand, but turned her head. + +At that moment, she met two women on their way to the spring, walking +steadily between the two bars, the ends of which they held in their +hands, and from which, exactly in the middle, the water-jug was +suspended by its two ears. + +"It is just the time for the spring," said Livette to herself, and she +followed them at a foot-pace. + +"Good-day, mademoiselle," the women said as they passed, for the +pretty maiden of the Chateau d'Avignon was known to everybody. + +There was as yet no one at the spring. The two women waited, and +Livette with them. + +"How do you happen to be riding about so early, mademoiselle? Are you +looking for some one?" + +"I am out for a ride," said Livette, "and as it's the time for drawing +water, I thought I would stop here a moment. My friends will surely +come sooner or later." + +No more was said, and Livette, having nothing else to do, looked +closely for the first time at the carved stone escutcheon in the +centre of the high arched wall above the spring. It is the town crest, +and it is needless to say that it includes a boat, a boat without mast +or oars, in which the two Maries--Jacobe and Salome--are standing. + +"I have often wondered," said Livette, "why they put only the figures +of two holy women in the boat. For haven't our mothers always told us +there were three of them? Were there three or not?" + +"Certainly there were three, my pretty innocent," said the older of +the two women, "but Sara was the servant, and no honor is due to her." + +"If the third was Saint Sara, then there were not three Marys, eh? But +I have always heard it said that the Magdalen was there, and that she +went away from here and died at Sainte-Baume." + +"Yes, so she was, and many others besides! Lazarus was in the boat, +too, but when they were once on shore, every one went his own way: +Magdalen went to Baume, and the two Maries and Sara remained with us. +That was when a spring came out of the sand, by the favor of our Lord. +When they built the church, they walled in the spring in the centre of +it." + +"Faith, they would have done well to leave the spring outside the +church!" + +"Why so? is the water spoiled by it?" + +"It's only good on the fete-day." + +"After so many years! And there's so little of it!" + +"We ought to have asked the saints to make it pure and abundant. If we +had all set about it with our prayers, they would have done it for +us." + +"One miracle more or less!" + +"The miracles, my dear, are only for strangers." + +"And that is just what we need, neighbor. If it wasn't so, you see, +strangers wouldn't come any more--and without them what would the +country live on? poor we! Where are our harvests? Where are our wheat +and our grain, good people, tell me that? If it wasn't for the saints, +this would be a cursed country! One fete-day a year, and the +pilgrims--God bless them!--fill our purses for us." + +"Miracle days are only too few and far between. We ought to have two +fete-days a year!" + +"What are you saying, you foolish woman? Two fete-days a year! Mother +of God! That would mean death to pilgrimages. To keep the custom +going, everything must be just as it is and nothing change at all. Our +men know that well enough. Remember the visit the Archbishop of Aix +and those great ladies paid us twenty years ago." + +And once more the story was told of the visit of the Archbishop of Aix +to Saintes-Maries-de-la-Mer twenty or thirty years before. + +On a certain 24th of May the archbishop arrived at Saintes-Maries with +several elderly ladies of the nobility of Aix. But it so happened that +that 24th of May was the evening of the 25th! Anybody may be +mistaken!--So that, instead of being lowered at four o'clock, the +reliquaries were raised again on that day, and when monseigneur +entered the church with his fair companions, it was good-by, saints! +They had already been hoisted up at the end of their ropes to the +lofty chapel, amid the singing of canticles. + +"Oh! well!" said the archbishop to the cure, "they must come down +again for us." + +The cure was about to obey, but a rumor of what was going on had +already spread through the village!--Ah! bless my soul, what a +commotion! + +"What!" said the old villagers. "They would lower the reliquaries on +some other day than the 24th, would they? Why, if it is such a simple +thing and can be done so often, why do you make the poor devils from +every corner of Provence and all the rest of the world come hurrying +to us on a special day? No, no, it would be the ruin of the country, +that is certain!" + +To make a long story short, the people of Saintes-Maries took their +guns, and under arms, in the church itself, compelled the prince of +the Church to respect the sovereign will of the people of the town. + +And they did very well, for rarity is the quality by virtue of which +miracles retain their value. + +One of the women having told this anecdote, which was perfectly well +known to them all, they began, as soon as she had finished, to make up +for their long silence by loud talk, vying with one another in their +approval of the villagers' revolt against the bishops, who would have +abused the good-will of the two Maries. + +"We are very lucky, all the same," said one of the old women, "to have +a good well with good stone walls instead of the brackish spring the +saints had to get their drinking-water from. I can remember the time +when we got our water from the _pousaraque_ (artificial pond), as the +people on our farms do to-day. The Rhone water that was brought into +them through the canals was always so thick and muddy you could cut it +with a knife!" + +"Bah! it had time enough to settle in our jars." + +"It is funny, though, to be so hard up for water in such a wet +country!" said a young woman who had just arrived. "This water is a +nuisance! Saint Sara, the servant, ought to have known from experience +that a woman has enough work to do at home without wasting her time +waiting in front of closed spigots. Saint Sara, protect us, and make +them turn on the water!" + +The women began to laugh. + +Almost all the housekeepers of Saintes-Maries had assembled by this +time. A last group arrived upon the scene. Some carried jars, without +handles, upon their heads, balancing them by a graceful swaying of the +whole body. With their hands upon their hips, they themselves were not +unlike living amphorae. Others, having one jug upon the head, carried +another in each hand--the stout _dourgue_, with handle and mouth; +others had wooden pails, others, glass jars, each having selected a +larger or smaller vessel, according to the necessities of her +household. + +"What sort of a pot have you there, Felicite?" + +Whereat there was a general laugh. + +She to whom the question was directed, replied: + +"I broke my jug, poor me! And, as I had to have some water, I took an +old thing I found that has always been standing behind the door at our +house since I can remember. If it will hold water, it will do for me +to-day, my dear!" + +"Take it to monsieur le cure for his library; it's an antique, and is +worth money!" + +Felicite had, in fact, come to the spring with a genuine Roman +amphora, found in the sandy bed of the Rhone--a jar two thousand years +old and hardly chipped! + +Each family at Saintes-Maries is entitled to one or two jars of water +each day, according to the number of its members.--The water had not +begun to flow. + +Livette, sitting upon her horse, thoughtful and sad amid the chatter, +was still awaiting her friends. + +"What were you saying just now?" asked some late comers. + +And having been informed, each one of them proceeded to expound her +ideas upon the subject of the saints and Sara the bondwoman, paying no +heed to what the others were saying--so that the jabbering of the +women and girls seemed like a _Ramadan_ of magpies and jays assembled +in one of the isolated clumps of pines so often seen in Camargue. + +"I would like to know if it's fair," cried one of the women, "not to +put in Saint Sara's portrait, too! A saint's a saint, and where +there's a saint there isn't any servant!" + +"The saints aren't proud! and Saint Sara cares mighty little whether +her picture's there or not!" + +"She may not care, but it was an insult to her!" + +"Oh!" said another, "good King Rene and the Pope knew what they were +doing when they arranged things so. Sara was Pontius Pilate's wife, +and she was the one who advised her husband to wash his hands of the +heathens' crime!" + +A murmur of reproof ran from mouth to mouth among the gossips. + +"Ah! here's old Rosine, she'll set us right." + +Motionless upon her horse Livette listened vaguely. She was +absent-minded, yet interested. + +When old Rosine, who was very deaf, had finally been made to +understand what was wanted of her, and that she was expected to give +her views concerning Sara the bondwoman, she began: + +"Ah! my children, God knows his own, and Sara was a great saint, for +sure----" + +Here Rosine crossed herself, and was at once imitated by all the old +women. + +"But," added Rosine, "Sara was a heathen woman from Egypt, and not a +Jewess of Judea; and the heathens, you see, come a long way after the +Jews in the world's esteem. Don't you see that the Jews are scattered +all over the world, but they stay everywhere, and become masters by +force of avarice. That is their way of being blessed by their Lord. +But the heathens of Egypt, on the contrary, are wanderers and poor, +although they are thieves, and more scattered and more accursed than +the Jews. Well, you see, my children, Saint Sara is their saint, the +saint of the Egyptian heathens! She wasn't a very good Catholic saint, +to pay the boatman for her passage by a sight of her naked body--with +the indifference of an old sinner, I fancy! So it is right that she +should come after the two Marys, for there are different ranks in +heaven. And that is why Saint Sara's bones are not between the boards +of the great shrine in the church, but under the glass of the little +shrine in the crypt--or the cellar, you might say. The cellar is a +good enough place--under the feet of Christians--for miserable +gipsies! And it is right that it should be so." + +"What Rosine says is true!" cried one of the women. "These frequent +visits of the gipsies are the ruin of the country. When our pilgrims +come, rich and poor, do you suppose they like to find all these +scamps, who are so clever at stealing folks' handkerchiefs and purses, +settled here before them? Don't you suppose that drives people away +from us? How many there are who would like to come, but don't care to +compromise themselves by being found in such company!" + +"Bah! such nonsense!" said a humpbacked woman; "those who have faith +don't stop half-way for such a small matter! And those who have some +troublesome disease and hope to cure it here aren't afraid of the +thieves nor their vermin. Take away my hump, mighty saints, and I will +undertake to get rid of my lice and my fleas one by one, without any +assistance!" + +This speech was greeted by a roar of laughter, which stopped abruptly, +as if by enchantment. The little gate to the spring was opened at +last, and, at the sound of the water rushing from the pipe, all the +women ran to take their places in the line--not without some trifling +disputes for precedence. + +At last, some of Livette's girl friends arrived. Spying them at some +little distance, she went to meet them. + +"What brings Livette here so early, on horseback?" said the women, +when she had moved away. + +"Why, she's looking for her rascal of a Renaud, of course!" said the +hunchback. "That fellow isn't used to being tied like a goat to a +stake, and the little one will have a hard time to keep him true to +her, for all her fine _dot_!--The other day, Rampal--you know, the +drover, a good fellow--saw him at a distance on the beach talking with +a gipsy who wasn't dressed for winter!" + +"Not dressed for winter? what do you mean?" + +"She wore no furs, nor cloak, nor anything else, poor me! She was +taking a bath as God made her. The plain isn't a safe place for that +sort of thing. You think you can't be seen because you think you can +see a long distance yourself, but a tuft of heather is enough for the +lizard to hide his two eyes behind while he looks." + +Again the women began to chuckle and laugh, but for a moment only. + +Meanwhile, Livette's friends were saying to her: + +"No, we haven't seen your sweetheart, my dear; but they are already +putting the benches in place against the church for the branding, and +he can't fail to be here soon." + +At that moment, a strain of weird music arose not far away. It was +produced by a flute, and the notes, softly modulated at first, were +abruptly changed to heart-rending shrieks. A strange, dull, monotonous +accompaniment seemed to encourage the sick heart, that called for help +with piercing cries. + +"Hark! there are the gipsies and their devil's music, Livette. Just go +and look--it is such an amusing sight. We will join you in a little +while." + +"What about my horse?" said Livette. + +"If you haven't come to stay, there's a heavy iron bracelet just set +into the wall of the church to hold the bars of the enclosure for the +branding. Tie your horse to that, and don't be afraid that he will +disappear. Every one will know he's yours by those pretty letters in +copper nails you have had put on your saddle-bow." + +Livette fastened her horse to the ring in the church-wall, and walked +in the direction of the gipsy music. It seemed to her that she might +probably learn something there. + +Now, Zinzara the Egyptian had seen Livette ride into the village, and +her music had no other purpose than to attract her, and Renaud, her +fiance, with her, if he were there. Why? to see;--to bring together +for an instant, with no fixed purpose, upon the same point of the vast +world through which she wandered, two of the personages with whom she +"beguiled her time;" to look on at the comedy of life, and to watch +the sequel, with the inclination to give an evil turn to it, chance +aiding. She loved the anomalies that result from the chaotic jumbling +together of circumstances. + +Zinzara was turning a kaleidoscope whose field was vast like the +horizon of her never-ending travels, and whose bits of glass, +multicolored, were living souls.--She turned the wheel to see what +calamity destiny, with her assistance, would bring to pass. The +amusement of a woman, of a sorceress. + + + + +XIII + +THE SNAKE-CHARMER + + +Life is an enigma. The everlasting silence of space is but the endless +murmuring of invisible circles which, twining in and out, part and +meet again, lose and never find one another, or are inextricably +interwoven forever. Life is an enigma. We can see something of its +beginning, nothing of its close; its meaning escapes us, but all the +links make the chain, and some one knows the rest. + +That there are two ends to the ladder is certain. Day is not night, +and one does not exist without the other. There are joy and sorrow, +health and sickness, happiness and unhappiness, life and death--in a +word, good and evil, for the beast of flesh and bone. This is a good +man, that a bad. Religion and morals have nothing to do with it, and +afford no explanation; but little children know that it is so, and +fools know it likewise. They who undertake to reason the thing out +learnedly, befog it. They who pull the thread break it. There is some +one and there is something. Nothing is null, I tell you, my good +friends, and yonder drivelling old idiot, sitting on the stone at the +foot of the Calvary before the church, and holding out his hand to +Livette, knows two things better than we--good and evil. The idiot, +when he passed the gipsies' wagons in the morning, talked amicably, +yes, he talked for some minutes with two or three gaunt dogs chained +up under the wagons; but when he saw Zinzara, the queen, fix her eyes +upon him, the idiot was afraid and limped away as fast as he could. He +was afraid because _there was_, in Zinzara's look, _something not +good_. + +And now Livette, as she passes by, glances at him, and the idiot--poor +human worm--smiles and holds out to her a glass pearl,--a treasure in +his eyes,--which he found that morning in the filth of the gutter near +by. The pearl glistens. It is bright blue. The idiot sees beauty in +it, and offers it to the pretty girl passing by. Livette smiles at +him, and he, the drivelling idiot, the cripple who drags himself along +the ground, laughs back at Livette. He laughs and feels his man's +heart vaguely opening within him--why?--because of _something good_ in +Livette's eyes. + +God is above us, and the devil beneath us. God? what do you mean by +God? Kindly humanity, which is above us and toward which we are +ascending; the ideal, evolved from ourselves which, by dint of +declaring itself and compelling love, will be realized in our +children. The devil? what is that? the obscure beast, the ravenous, +blind worm, which we were, and from which we are moving farther and +farther away. + +There is something nearer the mystery than the mind, and that +something is the instinct. Certainly we are nearer to our origin than +to our end, and instinct almost explains the origin because it is +still near at hand, but the mind cannot explain the end because it is +still so far away! Whence come we? The crawling beast may +suspect.--Whither go we? How can the beast tell, when he cannot fly? + +The bond that binds us fast to earth is not cut. Man bears forever the +scar of his birth. He has, therefore, always before him evidence of +how he is connected with infinity _behind_ him; but how he is +connected, by death, with the life everlasting, _before_ him, he does +not see. + +Instinct, like a glow-worm, lights up the depths from which man comes +forth, but intelligence casts no light into the boundless expanse on +high, wherein it loses itself, just at the point where God +begins.--Ah! how mysterious is God! + +Yes, between the intelligence and man's origin, instinct stretches +like a bridge. Between the intelligence and man's end, there is a +yawning chasm. The reason cannot cross it. There is no way but to +leap. Man finds it easy to imagine what lies below; his own weight +draws him down to a point where he can understand it. + +To understand what is above, it is essential to have a power of +lightening one's self, a wing which man has not. Here instinct acts +upon the mind in a direction opposed to mental effort. + +To some minds this faculty of rising sometimes comes, but man's +conceptions depend upon his experiences, and the time has passed when +reliance was placed upon the "wise men," upon those whose conceptions +far outran their experiences. Perhaps it is better so. Perhaps every +man ought to form his ideas for himself and no one will know anything +_for good and all_ until he has earned the right. + +Sometimes, for a moment, especially in dreams, but occasionally in his +waking hours, man _knows_. He has profound intuition; but nothing is +more fleeting than this sudden glimpse of eternity. + +The best of us are blind men haunted by the memory of a flash of +light. + +Which of us has not known, by personal experience, how a man can fly +away from himself? The sense of mystery, scarcely detected, has +escaped us, but who has not been conscious of it for a second? + +Truth, like love, reveals itself for a second only, but we must +believe in it--forever. + +These thoughts are properly presented here, for everything is in +everything. One man studies the hyssop, another the oak; Cuvier the +mastodon, and Lubbock the ant, but they all arrive at the same point, +a point which includes everything. + +Do you know why the gipsies, Bohemians, gitanos, zincali, zingari, +zigeuners, zinganes, tziganes, romani, romichal,--all different +appellations of the same wandering race,--arouse such intense interest +on the part of civilized peoples? + +There are two reasons. + +The first is, that the gipsy, being very primitive and wild, appears +among civilized beings as the image of themselves in the past. It is +as if they were our own ghosts. + +When we see them among us, we amuse ourselves, in the shelter of our +established homes, by thinking regretfully that we no longer have +before us the broad plains so dear to the beasts we are; that we are +no longer in constant contact with the earth, the plants, the animals, +which are the _mothers_ that bore us, and whom we love for that +reason. They have remained what we were when we left them, and that +touches us. + +The second reason is that they really discovered long ago something of +the meaning of life. + +It is certain that they are magicians. They have seen the hidden +spring and have a vague remembrance of it; they have retained its dark +reflection in their glance. + +The glance! they know its dormant and insinuating power. They know how +to subdue weak minds by a glance. + +The least skilled in magic among them still believe that the "secret" +of things is hidden away somewhere under a stone, and in their travels +through every country on earth they often raise heavy boulders, whose +peculiar shapes seem to indicate that they may conceal the mystery. +They never find under the boulders anything but toads and snakes and +scorpions, but they are skilled at making powerful potions from the +blood and venom of the reptiles. + +They know, also, the secret properties of plants, and that the hemlock +and belladonna vary in their effects when cut at certain times of the +year and at certain hours, according to the influence of the seasons +and the moon's rays. + +The gipsies are skilled in the science of poisons. Men and +women--_roms_ and _juwas_--excel in the art of giving diseases to +cattle. + +Their trades are only pretexts for calling at the houses they pass. +They are coppersmiths simply because the art of subjecting metals to +the action of fire was invented by the son of Cain, the progenitor of +all accursed mortals. And they are saddlers because they like to be +about horses, dear to all vagabonds. + +The gipsies, who were originally worshippers of fire, and now have no +religion of their own, but always adopt that of the country they are +passing through, are to mankind what Lucifer is to the angels. + +"We come from Egypt, if you please," Zinzara would sometimes say to +the people of her tribe. "Indeed, that is where we had our homes and +were a powerful race in the days of Moses. Then our ancestors were +magicians to the kings of Egypt, who overcame death; but our origin is +higher and farther away. + +"We come from a country where the _Secret Power of the World_ was +discovered: a dragon guards the mystery on the summit of a lofty +mountain, in a cavern, out of reach of whatever floods may come. + +"Our ancestor Coudra learned from the high-priests the method of +compelling the dragon to obey him. He entered the cavern and conceived +the idea of universal knowledge, and resolved to avail himself of it +in the outside world, in order that he might become a king and mighty +among men--for why was he poor? Why does poverty exist, why death? + +"He had no sooner conceived his project of justifiable rebellion than +the dragon sought to devour him. Our ancestor eluded him, and believed +that, by virtue of the secrets he had discovered, he would be +omnipotent on earth, but suddenly he found that he had almost +forgotten them all, as if by magic. He no longer remembered any of +them except those that do harm, those that produce disease, sorrow, +misery, and death--all the evils from which he would have liked to +free himself. + +"And the high-priests cursed him and his sons. Manou spoke against +them thus: _They shall dwell outside of cities; they shall possess +none but broken vessels; they shall have nothing of their own, except +it be an ass or a dog. They shall wear the clothes they steal from +the dead; their plates shall be broken; their jewels shall be of iron. +They shall journey, without rest, from place to place. Every man who +is faithful to his duty shall hold himself aloof from them. They shall +have no dealings except with one another. And they shall marry only in +their own race._ + +"And the _Tchandalas_ were able to flee the country, but not the +sentence. + +"And that is our present case. + +"The crown of Coudra is a broken ring--with sharp points, like a dog's +collar, and his sceptre is an iron staff, broken but formidable. For +why does want exist, and pain and death? God is wicked!" + +With this tale, set to music, the gipsy queen sometimes lulled her son +to sleep. + +And when, at the entrance to some chateau, she cast a long, malevolent +glance upon a young mother, who, upon catching sight of her, quickly +carried her little child within, such thoughts as these would run +through Zinzara's head: "The secrets that are known to our prophets, +our dukes and princes and kings, will cause all your cities, your +churches, and your thrones to tremble on their foundations, for why +does want exist, and pain and death? The hour will come--we await +it--when your nations will be scattered to the winds of wrath, unless +the wise men who invoked a curse on us become their masters--but you +are too far from their wisdom for that! You will be ours. + +"Meanwhile, woe to those of you whom we find alone! We look fixedly +at them, and the spirit of evil does the rest." + +And this is what little Livette saw when she approached the gipsy +camp. + +The whole tribe was there. Their numerous wagons were of different +sizes, most of them being made in the shape of small oblong houses, +with little windows, very like the Noah's arks made for children in +Germany. The gipsies had arranged their wagons side by side, in a +line, each one opposite a house in the village. Thus the line of +wheeled houses formed with the houses of the village a winding street, +which, if prolonged, would have surrounded Saintes-Maries like a +girdle. Thus, while their sojourn lasted, the gipsies could cherish +the illusion that they were settled there, that they were inhabitants +of the village, one dwelling opposite the baker, another opposite the +wine-shop; but no one forgot that the gipsy houses were built upon +wheels that turn and can make the tour of the world. + +"I pity the tree," says the gipsy, "it looks enviously at me as I +pass. It is jealous of my ass's feet." + +Most of the wagons were patched with boards of many colors, picked up +or stolen here and there. + +As a matter of fact, the wagons of the tribe were placed in the rear +of the village houses, so that the occupants of those houses, the +innkeeper or the baker, being busy in the front part of their +establishments, could naturally dispense with a too frequent +appearance in the gipsy street. + +The nomads alone swarmed there undisturbed. They passed but little +time in the wagons, except when they were on the road or tired or +sick; their days were passed in the open air, squatting in the dust, +or on the steps of the little ladders which they lowered from the +doors of their wagons to the ground; or else they passed long hours +lying in the shade under the wagon--smoking their pipes and dreaming. + +For the moment, some of the women here and there through the camp were +intent upon the same occupation: searching, in the bright morning +light, for vermin among the matted hair of their children, whom they +held tightly between their knees as in a vise. + +From time to time, one of the little fellows would howl with pain, +when his mother inadvertently pulled or tore out one of his wiry, +coal-black hairs. Then he would wriggle and squirm to get away, but +the vise formed by the knees would nip him again and hold him tight, +and there would be a squealing as of sucking pigs loth to be bled. +Then blows would rain down and the shrieks redouble. Suddenly the +urchin that was howling most lustily would cease, and follow, with a +lively interest, the movements of a chicken from some neighboring +coop, or the antics of a hunting-dog that had wandered that way and +was well worth stealing. + +The mothers went through with their matutinal task in an automatic +way that said as clearly as possible: "It is of no use to try to do +this, for the vermin breed and always will breed; but we must do +something. It is always a good thing to be busy; and then it makes an +excellent impression, here under the eye of civilized people. They see +that we are clean and neat." + +"Buy my dog," said one of them with a leer to an open-mouthed +villager. "You will be well satisfied with his fidelity. He is +faithful, I tell you! so faithful that I have been able to sell him +four times.--He always comes back!" + +All these women had a coppery, sun-burned, almost black skin, and hair +of a peculiar, dull charcoal-like black.--Some wore it twisted in a +heavy coil on top of the head. Several of the younger women let it +hang in long, snake-like locks over their breasts and backs. Their +eyes also were a curious shade of black, very bright, like black +velvet seen through glass. Life shone but dully in them, without +definite expression. Some mothers were attending to their duties with +a child on their back, wrapped in a sheet which they wore +bandoleer-fashion, with the ends knotted at the shoulder. The little +one slept with his head hanging, tossed and shaken by every movement. + +Red, orange, and blue were the prevailing colors of their tattered +garments, but they were tarnished and faded and almost blotted out by +layers of dust and filth;--a smoke-begrimed Orient. + +Many of the women had short pipes between their teeth. The men who +lay about here and there, with their elbows on the ground, were almost +all smoking placidly, their Sylvanus-like eyes fixed on vacancy. They +made a great show of pride under their rags. Some were asleep under +the rolling cabins. + +The line of wagons along the outskirts of the village was still in +shadow, but at the head of the line, the first of the wagons, standing +a little apart, beyond the line of the houses, was in the sunlight. +This wagon, which was painted and kept up better than the others, was +Zinzara's, and a few of the villagers had collected in the sunshine in +front of it, attracted by the notes of the flute and tambourine. + +Livette, as she approached the group, had no suspicion that, in the +wine-shop facing the wagon, behind the curtains of a window on the +first floor, Renaud had stationed himself, there, at his ease, to +watch the gipsy, who was playing the flute and dancing at the same +time, her feet and arms bare. + +Zinzara held the flute--a double flute with two reeds diverging +slightly--with much grace, and blew upon it with full cheeks, raising +and lowering her fingers to suit the requirements of a weird air, +sometimes slow, sometimes furiously fast and jerky. Her head was +thrown back, so that she appeared more haughty and aggressive than +ever. + +As she played upon her flute, Zinzara danced--a dance as mysterious +as herself. With her bare feet she simply beat time on the ground. Her +dance was naught but a play of attitudes, so to speak. She constantly +varied the rhythmical undulations of her flexible, vigorous body, +whose outline could be traced at every movement beneath the clinging +material of her dress. When the movement quickened, she stamped her +feet faster, still without moving from where she stood, as if in haste +to reach a lover's rendezvous, where languor would replace activity. + +Seated a few steps from the dancer, a young gipsy, with a vague, +dreamy expression, was pounding with his fist, thinking of other +things the while, upon a large tambourine, to which amulets of divers +kinds were attached,--Egyptian beetles, mother-of-pearl shells, +finger-rings, and great ear-rings,--which danced up and down as he +played. + +And the tambourine seemed to say to the double flute: + +"Never fear: your mate is watching over you. I am here, father or +betrothed, I, your strong-voiced mate, and you can sing freely of your +joy and sorrow; no one shall disturb you; I am on the watch, and for +you my heart beats in my great, sonorous breast." + +But to the gipsy's ear the music of the tambourine said something very +different; and with a smile upon her lips, blowing into her flute with +its diverging reeds, raising and lowering her slender fingers over the +holes, Zinzara, exerting a subtle influence over all about her, +dressed in soft rags that clung tightly to her form and marked the +outlines of her hips and of her breast in turn; displaying her tawny +calves beneath her skirts, which were lifted up and tucked into her +belt,--Zinzara seemed not to see the spectators. + +Twenty or thirty people were looking at her, and still she seemed to +be dancing for her own amusement; but her witch's eye followed, +without seeming to do so, the slightest movement of Renaud's head, the +whole of which could be seen at times between the serge curtains with +red borders, behind the windows of the wine-shop, under the eaves of +the house across the way. + +When she saw Livette approach, the dancer beat her feet upon the +ground more rapidly, as if annoyed, and the flute emitted a cry, a +shrill war-cry, like the sound made by tearing silk quickly. + +Livette involuntarily shuddered, but she mingled with the group, +momentarily increasing in size, and looked on. + +Zinzara made a sign, and uttered some strange, guttural words between +two loud notes--words that were, evidently, a precise command, for a +gipsy child, who had come to her side a moment before, glided under +the wagon, whence he emerged armed with a long white stick, with which +he motioned to the spectators to fall back a little. Then he stationed +himself in front of Zinzara, in the centre of the first row of +spectators, and, turning toward them, enjoined silence upon them by +placing his finger on his lips. The word was passed along, and the +bystanders ceased their conversation, realizing that _something_ was +about to happen. + +The dance was at an end.--The tambourine ceased to beat time. The +flute alone sang on in Zinzara's hands, as her fingers moved slowly up +and down.--Now it gave forth a thin, clear note, like the prolongation +of the sound made by a drop of water falling in a fountain; it was a +sweet, insinuating appeal, as melancholy as the croaking of a frog at +night, on the shores of a pond, at the bottom of an echoing, rocky +valley. + +And, with the end of his wand, the child pointed out to one of the +spectators something that came crawling out from under the wagon. It +was a tiny snake, with red and yellow spots, and it drew near, +evidently attracted by the notes of the flute. Another followed, and +soon there were several of them--five in all. + +When they were in front of the flute-player, between her and the boy +with the wand, they raised their heads and waved them back and forth, +slowly at first, then more quickly, keeping time with the flute. The +serpents danced, and the mind of every spectator involuntarily +compared their dance with the woman's that he had seen a moment +before. There was the same undulating movement, the same evil charm, +and every one was conscious of an uncomfortable feeling at the sight. + +Livette, surprised and strangely moved, thought that she was +dreaming. The spectacle before her was curiously, deplorably in accord +with the state of her heart. She did not understand its hidden, +intimate connection with her own destiny, but she felt its baleful +effects. Zinzara's glance, from time to time, swept over the girl's +face, but did not rest upon it. On the subject of her own influence, +Zinzara knew what she knew. + +Soft, soft as spun silk, the notes of the flute arose, very soft and +prolonged, like threads extending from the instrument and winding +about the necks of the little snakes; and the little snakes followed +the notes of the flute, which drew them on and on. Zinzara walked +backward. The little snakes followed her as if they were held fast by +the notes of the flute as by silken threads. The gipsy stopped, and +the notes _grew shorter_, so to speak, like the threads one winds +about a bobbin. Then the snakes approached the sorceress, and as +Zinzara stooped slowly over them, and put down her hands, still +holding the flute, upon which she did not cease to play, the snakes +twined themselves about her bare arms. Thence one of them climbed up +and wound about her neck, letting his little head, with its wide open +mouth and quivering tongue, hang down upon her swelling breast. And +when she stood erect again, two others were seen at her ankles, above +the rings she wore on her legs. Then she laid aside her flute and +began to laugh. Her laugh disclosed her regular, white teeth. + +"Now," said she, "if any one will give me his hand, I will tell his +fortune!" + +But no hand was put forward to meet hers because of the little snakes. + +Zinzara laughed aloud, and her laugh, in very truth, recalled certain +notes of her double flute. + +At that moment, Livette started to walk away. + +"Come, you!" said the gipsy quickly,--"you refused to listen to me +once, but to-day you must be very anxious to find out where your lover +is, my beauty! Give me your hand without fear, if you are worthy to +become the wife of a brave horseman." + +Livette blushed vividly. Her two young friends arrived just then and +heard what was said. "Don't you do it!" said one of them in an +undertone, pulling Livette's skirt from behind; but, Livette, annoyed +by the gipsy's expression, in which she fancied that she could detect +a touch of mockery, put out her hand, not without a mental prayer for +protection to the sainted Marys. The gipsy took the proffered hand in +her own. The snakes put out their forked tongues. Livette was somewhat +pale. + +They were both very small, the fortune-teller's hand and the maiden's. + +Renaud looked on from above with all his eyes, greatly surprised and a +little disturbed in mind. + +The gipsy held Livette's hand in her own a moment, exulting to feel +the palpitations of the bird she was fascinating. She had hoped to +intimidate Livette, and the courage the girl displayed annoyed her. + +"Your future husband isn't far away, my beauty," said she, "but he is +not here on your account, never fear! On whose, then? That is for you +to guess!" + +Livette, already somewhat pale, became as white as a ghost. + +"That alone, I fancy, is of interest to you, my pretty sweetheart! +Then I'll say no more to you except this: Beware; the serpent on my +left wrist just whispered something to me. Look well to your love!" + +A shudder ran through the spectators like a ripple over the surface of +a swamp. One of the snakes was, in fact, hissing gently. + +The gipsy released Livette's hand; as the girl turned to go away, she +came face to face with Rampal. He had been wandering about the village +since early morning, and had just joined the group, unseen by any one, +even by Renaud. + +Livette recoiled instinctively and in such a marked way that Rampal +might well have taken it for an affront. Unfortunately, having left +the front row, she was hemmed in by the crowd on all sides of her. + +"Oho! young lady," said Rampal, "so we don't recognize our friends!" + +"Good-day, good-day, Rampal," replied Livette, repeating the +salutation as the custom is in the province; "but let me pass! Make +room for me, I say!" + +"_Sur le pont d'Avignon_," sang the gipsy, with a laugh, "_tout le +monde paye passage!_"[2] + +Renaud, still behind his window, had at last recognized Rampal. Fuming +with rage, but naturally wary, he considered whether he should rush +down at once and attack him or wait until Livette had gone. + +Rampal did not always need a pretext to kiss a pretty girl,--but here +was one ready-made for him! + +"Do you hear, demoiselle?" said he. "You must pay the tollman of your +own accord, or else he will pay himself!" + +He threw both arms about the poor child's waist. She bent back, +holding her body and her head as far away from him as possible, but +the rascal, hot of breath, holding her firmly and forcing her a little +closer, kissed her twice full upon the lips. + +A fierce oath was uttered behind them in the air. Everybody turned, +and, looking up, discovered Renaud shaking the old-fashioned window, +which was reluctant to be opened. Two more wrenches and the window +yielded, flew suddenly open with a great noise of breaking glass, and +Renaud, standing on the sill, leaped to the ground. + +"Ah! the beggar! the beggar! where is the vile cur?" + +But Rampal had already leaped upon his horse that was hitched near by +to the bars of a low window, and was off at a gallop. + +He rode as if he were riding a race, half-standing in his stirrups, +his body bent forward, and plying incessantly and very rapidly a thong +that was made fast to his wrist, and that drove his horse wild by the +way it whistled about his ears. + +"Coward! coward!" one of the young men present could not refrain from +shouting after him. + +"Coward? oh! no!" said Renaud--"simply a thief! for if he weren't +riding a horse he never intends to return, the fellow wouldn't run +away--I know him!" + +He turned to poor, frightened Livette. + +"Never fear, demoiselle," said he, "he shall not carry our horse to +paradise with him." + +Was it Renaud's purpose, in saying this, to make the gipsy think that +he was bent upon taking vengeance for the theft of his horse rather +than for the insult put upon his fiancee? Perhaps so; but the devil is +so cunning that Renaud himself had no idea that he was capable of such +craft. + +As to the gipsy, she said to herself that Renaud, by jumping out of +the window, instead of coming quietly down the stairs, had compromised +his prospects of revenge for the satisfaction of exhibiting his +gipsy-like agility to her. He did, in truth, jump like a wild cat, and +rebound as if he were equipped with elastic paws! He was as agile as a +true _zingaro_! He was as handsome and bold as a highwayman! They are +gipsies, to all intents, these wandering guardians of mares and +heifers! + +Renaud, who had disappeared long enough to buckle his horse's girth, +rode by in a few moments upon Prince; the witnesses of the scene just +enacted were still discussing it. + +"Catch him! catch him! eat him, King!" cried twenty young men's voices +in chorus. + +"With the King and the Prince arrayed against him, Rampal is a dead +man," some one remarked, with a laugh. + +Renaud was already at a distance. He had not looked at the gipsy, but +he felt that her eyes were upon him, and he felt now that they were +following him from afar; and the feeling caused a pleasurable thrill, +of which he was conscious, and for which he reproved himself vaguely +on Livette's account, but without seeking to repress it. Yes, as he +galloped along in his wrath, he galloped in a particular way in order +that his wrath might show to good advantage, so that he might appear a +handsome and graceful horseman, as he was in fact. He was conscious of +every movement that he made--he fancied that he could see himself, and +was desirous to make a good appearance, he, the King! + +The peacock, in the mating season, has more gorgeous plumage, and +makes the greatest possible display of it. The nightingale and the +redbreast have sweeter voices. All alike take pleasure in so arraying +themselves as to give pleasure. + +"Where are you going, Livette?" her two friends asked her. + +"I am going to see monsieur le cure. I must have a talk with him, poor +me! for it was a great sin to listen to that sorceress, you know!" + + + + +XIV + +JOUSTING + + +Both Renaud and Rampal had spears. + +As he rode by the Neuf farm, half a league from Saintes-Maries, +Rampal, who owned nothing in the world but his saddle, and had no +spear, being at that time simply a drover out of a job, had spied one +leaning against a fig-tree, and had appropriated it without +dismounting, had "borrowed it without a word," thinking that he should +probably need it to defend himself. + +Now he was galloping across the fields, leaning forward on his horse's +neck, with his thong in his boot and the spear resting in the stirrup. + +Renaud had mistaken the road in his hot pursuit. Perhaps the gipsy was +the cause of it, for, in spite of himself, in order to remain within +her range of vision, Renaud had ridden straight toward the Vaccares, +while Rampal had just taken the road to Arles, avoiding stratagem in +order to mislead his pursuer more effectually, for he said to himself +that Renaud would surely argue that he had made for the middle of the +island to take refuge in some deserted _jass_. + +Renaud divined Rampal's plan. + +"He will keep to the road," he suddenly thought, and feeling certain +that he was right, he turned to the left and rode due west. Rampal, +having the start of him by a full league, drew rein in the vicinity of +Grandes-Cabanes, and having planted his spear-head in the ground, +rested both hands upon it, then placed his feet, one after the other, +on the hind-quarters of his horse, and stood there for some moments, +scanning the plain behind him. Between two clumps of tamarisks he +caught a glimpse of a horseman, like a flash of light, or like a +rabbit scuttling between two wild thyme bushes--Renaud, beyond +question! Rampal saw that Renaud, if it were he, was about to take to +the road, and he himself thereupon left it and rode in the opposite +direction on a line parallel to that his enemy was following in the +distance. When Renaud reached the road and turned into it, Rampal had +the Vaccares in front of him, and there he turned to the left and +followed the shore. His plan was to cross the main stream of the +Rhone, and reach the Conscript's Hut, in the middle of the _gargate_, +the spot where he was confident of finding safe shelter in times of +serious danger. Unluckily for him, he had been seen--when he was +standing on his horse watching his man--by a fisherman who was +crouching on the edge of the canal, fishing for eels with a reed and +a short line, at the end of which was a bunch of worms, strung and +twisted together. + +"Have you seen Rampal, friend?" said Renaud, stopping his horse short +as soon as he saw the fisherman, who was just about changing his +place. + +"Ah! King, are you the man who is looking for him?" said the +fisherman, an old man. "If he has kept to the road he took to get away +from you,--for I saw he was watching some one behind him,--he ought to +be on the shore of the Vaccares by this time, and from there, if he +doesn't go back to Saintes-Maries, he will surely go up toward +Notre-Dame-d'Amour. You have a good horse, and you can catch him +between the Vaccares and the Grand' Mar." + +Renaud darted away as if he had wings. + +After an hour and a half of furious riding,--he was wise enough, +however, to change his gait several times,-he drew rein, a little +discouraged; then, after a brief halt and a draught of brandy from the +flask that never left his holsters, he resumed his headlong race--but +not until he had thoughtfully allowed his horse to drink a swallow of +water from the canal. + +When he was between the Grand' Mar swamp and the Vaccares, he found +his own drove taking their midday rest there, under the guidance of +Bernard, his young assistant. + +Horses and bulls were lying motionless on the shore of the Vaccares, +in the twofold glare from sky and water, for it was well-nigh noon, +and the light was dazzling. + +Bernard was resting likewise, lying on his back with his head on the +saddle, not far from his horse, which was fettered near by, learning +to amble. + +In front of Renaud lay the pearl-gray Vaccares, gleaming like a huge +table of polished steel, in the centre of which a veritable white +islet of sea-mews were sleeping, motionless as statues. + +Behind him stretched an ashen-gray plain, which could be seen only in +spots--where the salt emerged in efflorescent crystals--glistening +through a vast violet net-work of flowering _saladelles_; for the +_saladelles_ spread out in broad, graceful tufts, with many +ramifications, but without foliage, dotted with a multitude of lilac +blossoms, between which the ground can be seen. And farther away the +fields of glasswort began, with their plump, juicy leaves; they are a +beautiful rich green when they are young, but the salt air soon turns +them blood-red, so that the oldest and those nearest the sea are the +darkest. + +Here and there the stunted tamarisk, with its gnarled trunk, dotted +the plain, its sparse foliage tinged with pink by the blossoms hanging +in tiny clusters, which, tiny though they be, are a heavy burden for +its flexible branches. + +And in the dry, seamy bottoms were great patches of _siagnes_, +_triangles_, _apaiuns_ of every kind, _caneous_ or dwarf reeds used +in making roofs and matting, thorn-broom and all sorts of aquatic +plants, bright green, and straight as fields of grain; their angular +battalions, harvested in summer, go down before the scythe in broad +half-circles. Above these patches of verdure, which bend and rustle +with the faintest breath of air, hovered dragon-flies with enormous +heads,--swallow-like insects, voracious devourers of gnats. They flew +about with the swallows over the waters where the mosquito is born, +making a metallic sound among the reeds when their wings of +transparent, black-veined mica came in contact with them. + +Renaud gazed at these familiar things and forgot himself in them. For +a second he fancied that he was watching his drove there, and that he +had nothing else to do but remain with his beasts, absorbed, as they +were, in calm, unreasoning contemplation of the desert that surrounded +him. He ceased to love, to hate, to desire, and to pursue. + +The shadow of wings passed him by. He raised his eyes and saw, above +his head, two red flamingoes. + +"They built their nest here this year," he thought. + +But Prince, the good horse, had recognized his favorite mares, and, +stretching out his neck, opening his nostrils wide to inhale the fresh +breeze of the swamp and the plain, raising his lips and displaying his +teeth, he gave a neigh that made all the mares spring to their feet at +a single bound, the bulls raise their heads, and Bernard himself jump +up from the ground, spear in hand. + +Renaud, pressing his knees together and pulling his horse back, held +him in hand, although he trembled under him and pranced up and down in +the soft sand. + +At the same time, a sudden gust of the _mistral_ swept across the +plain and broke the mirror-like surface of the Vaccares into little +waves. + +"If it is Rampal you are looking for," said Bernard, "he isn't far +away, you may be sure. When he saw me here, all of a sudden--just a +moment ago--he rode off that way. And as he went out of my sight very +soon, I believe he has gone into some cabin. You had better look +around the Mejeane tower." + +Renaud was off again. + +Suddenly his eyes fell upon a low cabin with its rush-covered roof, +shaped like a pyramid, or like a stack of straw, and surmounted, as +they all are, by its wooden cross, bending back as if the _mistral_ +were gradually blowing it over. + +The thought came to him: "Rampal is there! His horse must be tired. He +retraced his steps a short distance without Bernard's seeing him, and +went into hiding there--hoping that I should be thrown off the scent +and would ride by. Yes, he is surely there!" + +Renaud turned about, and rode straight toward the cabin, keeping a +sharp lookout; whereupon Rampal, who was really hidden there, +watching his pursuer through the holes in the wall, rushed out, +frightening an owl that flew away in dismay, and leaped upon his horse +which was browsing in hobbles near by, but out of sight, at the bottom +of a ditch. + +The _mistral_, which comes like a cannon-ball when it makes up its +mind to blow at that time of day, suddenly began to roar. Renaud had +put his head down to meet the squall, so that he did not perceive this +manoeuvre of the enemy. + +So it was that Rampal seemed suddenly to come up out of the ground, +not twenty feet from Renaud, who was not taken by surprise, however, +but rushed at him, brandishing his spear, for all the world like one +of the knights of the time of Saint Louis, of whom our legends tell. +(Aigues-Mortes was then in its prime.) + +But Camargue is, as every one knows, the mother of the _mistral_--the +vast sunny plain, with Crau, which, after sending the air up by dint +of overheating it, is compelled to summon other air in order to +breathe at all. And thereupon, down the Rhone valley, at the summons +of the desert, comes a torrent of fresh air, which is the companion of +the river, and is called the _mistral_. It roared through Renaud's +open vest as in the belly of a sail, and, taking Prince sidewise, kept +him back a little. It was no easy matter to leap the ditch. That gave +the advantage to Rampal, who was now trotting freely along, face to +the wind. + +The ditch was now between the two men, and Rampal's only purpose in +trotting along the edge of it was to limber up his horse's legs. +Renaud, abandoning the idea of crossing the ditch for the moment, +decided to follow along on his side. The two horsemen rode thus for a +few moments. Rampal had prudently protected his face from the +_mistral_ with a red silk handkerchief, the ends of which flapped +about his neck. + +Suddenly, taking advantage of a spot where the banks came somewhat +nearer together, Renaud lifted his horse and landed on the other side +of the ditch at the very instant that Rampal, having executed the same +manoeuvre in the opposite direction, landed on the side Renaud had +left. + +Renaud did not find a favorable spot for crossing at once, and Rampal +gained upon him. + +Having at last crossed the obstacle once more, Renaud pursued Rampal +at full speed, and so rapidly that, when Rampal turned to judge the +distance between them, he saw Renaud hardly fifty paces behind him. + +He had just time to turn about, and waited for his foe, with lance in +rest, leaning forward in his saddle, his feet planted firmly in the +broad stirrups. + +Renaud, unluckily, was charging against the _mistral_. A sort of hail, +consisting of sand and of the little snails that cling in myriads to +the leaves of the _enganes_, beat into his face and angered him. + +Five hundred feet away, Bernard was looking on--not saying a word, +for fear of Rampal, but praying fervently for Renaud, and he fancied +that he was watching two champions standing on the long ladders in the +prows of the jousting boats, with their lances held firmly under their +right arms. Rampal's spear, being suddenly lowered too far by a false +step of his horse, pricked the heel of Renaud's boot and grazed +Prince's flank, whereupon he jumped violently aside, as if he were +avoiding the horns of a heifer. + +Renaud's spear tore the sleeve of his enemy's blue shirt and carried +away the piece. + +The horsemen met and passed each other. + +Rampal was the first to turn, and rode after Renaud, ready to strike +him from behind, while he was struggling to stop Prince, who had +acquired too much momentum; and Prince, hearing the other horse's +hurried step, and feeling his hot breath behind him, furious at being +held back, fearing that he would be overtaken, turned about so quickly +and unexpectedly in his wrath, that Rampal took fright and turned +again, but involuntarily. + +Renaud, finding that his pursuer had once more become a fugitive, gave +Prince a free rein. + +The stallion was off like the wind. + +The horsemen sped along, pushed on by the gusts, the wind being now +behind them. + +The mares and heifers, the whole drove, in fact, stood with their +heads in the air, staring eyes, and nostrils distended, watching the +two men come down toward them, bending over their horses' necks, +reins flying, as if pursued by the tempest along the shores of the +pond, whose waters were dancing and rippling in the wind. + +Here and there the little tamarisks, bent almost double, seemed +likewise to be fleeing from the storm. There were no more gnats or +dragon-flies in the air. Above the Vaccares the spray was flying. The +_mistral_ swept everything clean. + +Two minutes later, powerless to control their enervated beasts, +excited as they were by the struggle and the wind, the two adversaries +rode at full speed through the drove. + +Thereupon, inflamed by the sight of their two stallions racing madly +by, alarmed at the sight of the waving spears, intoxicated by the wild +wind that found a way into their bodies through their fiery nostrils, +the mares neighed and reared and started off together on the gallop. +The heifers followed. Hundreds of hoofs and cloven feet beat the +ground with a noise like the roaring of a tempest, and the whole +drove, lashed by the _mistral_, which howled behind them, biting them +and urging them forward, rolled across the plain like a second Rhone. +And while Bernard was saddling his horse in hot haste to overtake +them, the two enemies galloped in the midst of the hurricane as if +borne on by the stamping of eighty beasts, whose hoofs raised clouds +of sand and showers of spray and mud in the wind that travelled faster +than they! + +At the head of this whirlwind, and still in the midst of it, Renaud +succeeded in overtaking Rampal. When he was near enough to touch him, +he selected the precise moment when his horse was raising his left +hind foot, to strike him on the right hind-quarter. The right leg, +just as it was about to strike the ground, bent double under the blow +of a spear directed by a man riding at a gallop, and Rampal and his +horse rolled over among the countless galloping hoofs that shook the +earth. + +Bulls and horses leaped over the two bodies lying there, man and +beast, and when the drove, tired and subdued, came to a stop half a +league farther on, Renaud, still riding Prince, was holding by the +bridle his recaptured horse, bleeding only in the flank and at the +nose. + +Standing beside him, with rage in his heart, stained with mud and +dust, his face bleeding and the skin torn from the palms of the hands, +Rampal, red as fire, was occupied in rearranging his breeches and +fastening his belt. + +"Wait till next time, Renaud! After this you would expect a man to +seek revenge, eh?" + +But his shrill voice was drowned in the howling of the _mistral_. + +"Give me back my saddle!" he shouted in a louder tone. + +The drover's saddle is his whole fortune. He cherishes it, loves it, +takes pride in it. + +"Your saddle?" rejoined Renaud suspiciously. "Come with me and get +it! Bernard will give it to you." + +He shrugged his shoulders, and without another word rode after the +drove, leading back to it the emaciated horse which Rampal had sadly +misused. + +He was extremely glad that Blanchet had had no part in this duel. He +recognized Blanchet from afar in among the mares, but sleeker and +better cared for than the others. A true lady's horse, staunch as he +was!--And now he would be able to return him to his mistress, as he +had his former horse, in addition to Prince. And his nostrils dilated +with the pride of victory. He inhaled long draughts of the bracing +salt air. + +He was thinking of two women--yes, of two, not one only!--who would +say of him when they heard what had taken place: "That is a man!" And +Renaud's noble horse shared his master's pride, as he capered about, +in the liberty accorded him to choose his own pace, with the proud +bearing of a stallion that had won the race in the sight of his whole +drove. + + + + +XV + +MONSIEUR LE CURE'S ARCHAEOLOGY + + +The cure of Saintes-Maries was a man of about sixty, well preserved, +very tall and stout, with bright eyes whose light he quenched with +spectacles, and energetic gestures which he purposely restrained. + +The parsonage was near the church, the doorway shaded by a number of +elms. The house, in accordance with the prevailing custom of the +province, was whitewashed once a year, outside and in, like the houses +of the Arabs. + +The houses in Saintes-Maries are low. The streets are narrow, and wind +about to escape the sun. The shadows under the awnings of the little +shops have a bluish cast. In front of the doors, which open on the +street, hang transparent curtains of common linen, in some cases of +very fine net-work, to stop the flies and admit the light after it has +passed through the sieve, so to speak. And, behind them, the maidens +of Saintes-Maries are confined like birdlings in a cage, or like very +dangerous little wild beasts. Are not all maidens to be looked upon +with more or less suspicion? + +The maidens of Saintes-Maries wear the Arles head-dress and the +neckerchief, with fold upon fold held in place by hundreds of pins, by +as many pins as a rose-bush has thorns; and where the thick folds of +the handkerchief open, in the depths of the _chapelle_, you can see +the little golden cross gleaming upon the firm young flesh rising and +falling with the maidenly sigh. The apron worn over the ample skirt +seems like a skirt itself, it is so broad and full, and slender feet +peep out from beneath it, as agile as the Camargue partridge's red +claws, that love to scamper swiftly over the fields to escape the +hunter, knowing that Camargue is broad and space is plentiful. + +Many are the pale faces at Saintes, for, whatever they may say, the +marshes still breed fever, and this country, to which people come to +be miraculously cured, is, generally speaking, a country of disease; +but pallor goes well with the wavy black hair, worn in broad puffs on +the temples and falling upon the neck in two heavy masses which are +turned up to meet the _chignon_. To help them to forget what is +depressing in their lives, they resort, here as elsewhere, to +coquetry--and the rest!--And then they are accustomed to the fever, +which gives birth to dreams and visions; they tame it, as it were; it +is not cruel to the people it knows, and does not lead them to the +cemetery until they are old and gray. + +The cemetery is a few steps from the village, a few steps from the +sea. It lies at the foot of the sand-dunes, surrounded by a low wall. +The dead and gone villagers of Saintes-Maries lie sleeping there +between the sea and the desert of Camargue: many fishermen who lived +in their flat-bottomed boats; many herdsmen who lived on horseback in +the plain. + +All of them alike find there, in death, the things amid which their +lives have been passed: the salt sand, filled with tiny shells, the +_enganes_ that grow in spite of everything, reddened by the salt-laden +winds, and heavy with soda,--and the thin shadow of the pink-plumed +tamarisk. There they hear the neighing of the wild mares, the shouts +of the herdsmen contending on the race-course on fete-days, or +stirring up the black bulls in the arena under the walls of the +church. They hear the sails flapping, and the _han_ of the bare-legged +fishermen pushing their flat-bottomed boats or barges into the water; +and night and day, the pounding of the sea in its efforts to push back +the island of Camargue, while the Rhone, on the other hand, is +constantly pushing it into the sea, and adding to its bulk with mud +and stones brought down from its head-waters. The sea smites the +island as if it would have none of it, but all in vain,--it, too, can +but augment its size with the sand it casts up. + +And the sand from the sea makes a broad hem of dunes along the shores +of Camargue. + +No one can fail to see that the dunes, those shifting, tomb-like +hills of sand, must have served as models for the massive pyramids, +the tombs of kings, in the Egyptian desert. + +At the feet of the little pyramids of sand sleep the dead of Camargue. + +But whither has the thought of death led us? Why do we tarry here, +while Livette is timidly lifting the knocker at monsieur le cure's +door? + +The blow echoed within the house, in the empty hall. Livette was much +perturbed. What was she to say? Where should she begin? The beginning +is always the most difficult part. She would like to run away now, but +it is too late. She hears steps inside. Marion, the old servant, opens +the door. + +Marion has a practised eye. When any one knocks at Monsieur le cure's +door, she knows, simply by examining his face, what he wants, and +frames her answers accordingly, on her own responsibility; for +Monsieur le cure is subject to rheumatism: he suffers from fever, too, +and Marion nurses Monsieur le cure! If he listened to Marion, he would +nurse himself so carefully that all the sick people would have to die +unshriven, without extreme unction, for Marion would always have a +good reason to give to prevent him from going out by day or night, +when the _mistral_ was blowing or the wind was from the east, summer +or winter, rain or shine. + +But Monsieur le cure would smile and do just what he chose. He was a +good priest. He never failed in his duty. He loved his parishioners. +He assisted them on all occasions with his purse and his advice. He +was beloved by them all. + +He loved his parishioners, his commune, and his curious church, which +was once a fortress; he was familiar with the shape of its every +stone. He loved it both as priest and as archaeologist, for Monsieur +le cure is a scholar, and his church is, in very truth, one of the +most interesting monuments in France, with its abnormally thick, high, +and threatening walls, crowned with jutting galleries and surmounted +by crenelated battlements, with an unobstructed view of sea and land +in all directions, and overlooked by four turrets, and a tower in the +centre,--the highest of all,--from whose belfry the alarum bell, in +the old days, often aroused the country-side, repeating in its +shrillest tones: "Here come the heathens, good people of +Saintes-Maries! Attention! Come and shut yourselves up here! Make +ready your arrows and the boiling oil and pitch!"--Or else: "Hasten to +the shore, good people of Saintes-Maries! A French vessel is sinking!" + +And to this day it seems still to say, to all, far and near: "I see +you! I see you!" + +One could go on forever describing the church of Saintes-Maries, and +relating anecdotes concerning it. + +Behind the battlements at the top, and enclosing the roof of flat +stones, runs a narrow pathway, where the archers and patrols in the +old days used to make their rounds, surrounded by countless +sea-swallows. Along the ridge-pole of the roof, of overlapping broad +flat stones, between which thick tufts of _nasques_ are growing, rises +a high carved comb, in ogive-like curves, surmounted by fleurs-de-lis. + +All this is beautiful and grand, but there is a little thing of which +the villagers are as proud as of the bell-tower and the turrets, and +that is a marble tablet, about five courses in length by three in +height, on which two lions are represented. One is protecting its +whelp; the other seems to be protecting a little child, as if it were +its own offspring. It seems that this tablet was carved by a Greek +workman long, long ago. + +The marble is set into the southern wall of the church, beside the +small door. + +You enter. The ogive arch of the nave compels you to raise your eyes +to a great height. And as you enter by the main door, your attention +is attracted by a romanesque arch, directly in front of you, at the +far end of the church, at least five metres below the ogive arch of +the nave; in the centre of this arch are the blessed reliquaries, +resting upon the sill of an opening like a window, flanked by two +columns. From that position they are lowered once in every year at the +ends of two ropes. + +The choir is some few feet higher than the flagging of the church. It +is reached by two symmetrical staircases, between which is the grated +door leading down into Sara's crypt. That door you can see, directly +in front of you, at the end of the passage through the centre of the +church, between the rows of chairs. One would say that it was the +air-hole of a dungeon. + +Down below, in the damp crypt, with its low arched roof and naked +walls,--a veritable dungeon,--upon a mutilated marble altar, is the +little glass shrine containing the relics of Saint Sara, the patron +saint of the gipsies. There, amid the smoke of their candles, in an +atmosphere made foul by human exhalations, you can see them once a +year, huddled together in a dense crowd, mumbling their questionable +prayers. + +In the days of the Saracen invasions this crypt served as a storehouse +for supplies, when all the inhabitants of the little village were +forced to take refuge in the fortress-church. + +Aigues-Mortes has her walls and her Constance Tower, massive as Babel; +Nimes has her Arena and her Fountain--and the Pont du Gard, superb in +its beauty, is also hers; Avignon her bridges, her ramparts, and her +clocks with figures of armed men to strike the hours; Tarascon her +Chateau, mirrored in the Rhone; Baux the fantastic ruins of her +houses, hollowed, like the cells of a bee-hive, out of the solid rock +of the hill-side; Montmajour has her tombs of little children, also +dug, side by side, in the solid rock, and to-day filled with earth and +flowers, like the troughs at which doves drink; Orange has her theatre +and her triumphal arch; Arles has her theatre with the two pillars +still upright in the centre; she has Saint-Trophime, too, with its +sculptured facade and its _Allee des Alyscamps_, bordered with +Christian sarcophagi and lofty poplars. But Saintes-Maries-de-la-Mer +has her church, which Monsieur le cure would not give for all the +treasures of the other towns! + +Marion saw plainly that Livette was depressed; Marion was touched when +Livette said: "I must see Monsieur le cure," and as her master would +not be seriously discommoded, there being no occasion for him to leave +the house, Marion ushered Livette into the parlor. + +It was a whitewashed room, but the cure had transformed it into a +veritable museum, and the walls were completely hidden behind wooden +cabinets, made by himself, and all filled with his collections. + +There were pieces of antique pottery and of rainbow-hued antique +glass. There were old medals. + +One of the latter attracted Livette's attention. It represented a bull +in the act of falling; one of his fore-legs had given way. A man, his +conqueror, had seized him by the horns. That Grecian medal was struck +centuries upon centuries ago. A label explained it to Livette, who +thought at first that it was Renaud. Life is all repetition. + +There were collections of plants and boxes filled with shells, and +also many stuffed birds, all the varieties found in Camargue. For more +than thirty years, fishermen and hunters had presented Monsieur le +cure with curious objects and animals. Here was an otter from the +Rhone, there a beaver, with his trowel-shaped tail and hooked teeth. +It is a question of serious importance whether the beavers do not +injure the dikes of the Rhone. The important point, you see, is that +the water from the swamps should empty into the river or the sea +through the canals, which run in all directions. Therefore, the dikes +must hold firm and not let the Rhone overflow the swamps. And the +beavers, they say, destroy the dikes. They gnaw into them when the +great freshets come, to avoid the drift, and take refuge inside; and +when the water comes in after them, they make a vertical hole through +which to escape, and there is your dike, undermined, eaten into by the +water! That is a bad state of affairs. + +Livette raised her eyes. A reptile, with his mouth open, was hanging +from the ceiling; he was very fat, and well he might be! he was a +little crocodile, the last one killed in Camargue, a very long while +ago! + +In every nook left free by the natural curiosities some pious image +was to be seen. Here the two Maries in their boat. There the Holy +Women wrapping the Christ in his shroud. In another place, Magdalen at +La Baume, kneeling in front of the death's-head. But Livette saw no +image of Saint Sara. + +Livette sat down and waited. Monsieur le cure did not come. The fact +was, that Monsieur le cure, who had already written two monographs, +one entitled _La Cure de Boismaux_, and the other _La Villa de la +Mar_, was at that moment at work upon a third: _Concordance of the +Legends of the Blessed Maries_, with this sub-title: _Concerning the +strange and regrettable confusion that seems to exist between Saint +Sara and Marie the Egyptian._ + +_La Cure de Boismaux_ also had a sub-title: _Monograph concerning the +domains of the Chateau d'Avignon in Camargue._ Monsieur le cure +recalled the fact that the domains of the Chateau d'Avignon formerly +constituted a separate commune. That commune naturally had a cure, and +in those days the proprietor of the Chateau d'Avignon was General +Miollis, brother of the Bishop of Digne mentioned by Monsieur Victor +Hugo in _Les Miserables_ under the name of Myriel. + +In a special chapter, Monsieur le cure sought, to no purpose, to find +a reason, telluric or otherwise, for the fact that the estates of the +Chateau d'Avignon are particularly subject to invasion by locusts, +which sometimes have to be fought in Camargue, as in Africa, by +regiments. + +As to the _Concordance_, that was a very important and very necessary +work. It was based, in great measure, upon the authority of the _Black +Book_. That Latin work, preserved in the archives of Saintes-Maries, +was written, in 1521, by Vincent Philippon, who signed himself: 2000 +Philippon![3] (Jesus himself did not disdain the pun.) There is a +French translation of the _Black Book_. It was published in 1682, and +begins thus: + + "Au nom de Dieu mon oeuvre comancee + Par Jesus-Christ soit toujours advancee. + Le Saint-Esprit conduise sagement + Ma main, ma plume, et mon entendement."[4] + +Here follows the true version of the story of the patron saints of +Notre-Dame-de-la-Mer. + +Marie Jacobe, mother of Saint James the Less, Marie Salome, mother of +Saint James the Greater and of Saint John the Evangelist, came not +alone to the shores of Camargue. The boat without sail or oars +contained also their servants Marcella and Sara, Lazarus and all his +family, and several of the Christ's disciples. + +Monsieur le cure would prove, with documents to sustain him, that Mary +Magdalen was not in the boat. She came to Provence by some other +means, no one can say by what miracle. + +With the exception of the two Maries and Sara, all the passengers upon +the miraculous craft dispersed in different directions, preaching and +making converts. + +The holy women did not leave Camargue, the island in the Rhone, +divided at that time into a great number of small islands by the +ponds--a veritable archipelago, called _Sticados_ and inhabited by +heathens. In those days, all these small islands, formed by the +swamps, were covered with forests and filled with wild beasts. And +this delta of the Rhone was infested with crocodiles. + +Now, a long, long time after the death of the holy women, a hunter, +followed by his dogs, was passing over the spot where they lay buried +in unknown graves; he fell in with a hermit there, beside a spring. + +"My lord," said the hermit, "I had a revelation in a dream last night. +In the sand beside this spring repose the bodies of three sainted +women!" + +The hunter was a Comte de Provence. His palace was at Arles, and the +cure had every reason to believe that he was Guillaume I., son of +Boson I., famous for his liberality to the church. + +It was in 981. This Guillaume had overcome the Saracens, and Conrad +I., King of Bourgogne, his suzerain, loved and respected him. + +The prince, having listened to the hermit's tale, rode away musing +deeply; not long after, he returned and caused a church in the form of +a citadel to be built at that point of the coast, in the very centre +of a spacious enclosure surrounded by moats. + +Then he made known throughout Provence that special privileges would +be accorded to all those who should build houses between the church +and the moat. + +Thus was founded the Villa-de-la-Mar--which is in fact a town +(_ville_), although it is too often spoken of as a village, under its +other name of Saintes-Maries. + +The Comtes de Provence have always granted special privileges to the +town. + +Under Queen Jeanne, a guard was stationed all the time at the top of +the church-tower to watch the ships and make signals. Sentinels were +obliged to call to one another and answer every hour during the night. +The people of Saintes-Maries were also exempted by the queen from +payment of tolls and the tax upon salt. + +Monsieur le cure explains all these things in his book, which is very +interesting. He also describes therein, "as in duty bound," the +discovery of the sacred bones. In 1448, King Rene, being then at Aix, +his capital, heard a preacher declare that Saintes Marie-Jacobe and +Salome were certainly buried beneath the church of Villa-de-la-Mar. + +Rene at once consulted his confessor, Pere Adhemar, and sent a +messenger to the Pope, asking that he be authorized to make search +underground in the church. The authorization was given in the month of +June in the same year. The Archbishop of Aix, Robert Damiani, presided +at the search. + +They found the spring; near the spring was an earthen altar; at the +foot of the altar a marble tablet with this inscription, upon which +the good cure descants at great length: + + D. M. + IOV. M. L. CORN. BALBUS + P. ANATILIORUM + AD RHODANI + OSTIA SACR. ARAM + V. S. L. M. + +Lastly, they found the bones of the saints, perfectly recognizable, +and, in addition, a head sealed up in a leaden box, which, according +to the cure, was the head of Saint James the Less, brought from +Jerusalem by Marie-Jacobe, his mother. + +The bones, having been devoutly taken from their resting-place, were +with great ceremony bestowed in shrines of cypress wood. The king was +present with his court. The papal legate was also there, and an +archbishop, ten or twelve bishops, a great number of ecclesiastical +dignitaries, professors, and learned doctors. The chancellor of the +University of Avignon, too, and--so the reports of the proceedings set +forth--three prothonotaries of the Holy See and three notaries public. + +And so nothing is more firmly established than the authenticity of the +relics of the saints. + +But various apocryphal legends had appeared to throw doubt upon the +truth, and Monsieur le cure was at work upon the following passage +while Livette, with increasing uneasiness, was awaiting him in the +parlor. + +"Among the popular fallacies," wrote the cure, "which destroy pure +tradition, we must stigmatize as one of the most deplorable, I may say +one of the most pernicious, that one which insists that among the +passengers of the miraculous craft was a third Saint Marie, surnamed +the Egyptian. It is downright heresy! How could it have taken root, +and how far does it extend?" + +Monsieur le cure proposed to retouch that last phrase forthwith, and +for a very good reason. + +"Without doubt," he continued, "the Egyptians, or Bohemians, or +gipsies, by manifesting, from remote times, particular veneration for +Saint Sara, who was, according to their ideas, an Egyptian and the +wife of Pontius Pilate, have contributed to the formation of an absurd +legend, but this one has its source, or its root, in something +different; there is an episode of a boat in the life of the Egyptian, +which assists the error by causing confusion." + +Monsieur le cure proposed to return to that paragraph also. + +"Born in the outskirts of Alexandria, Marie the Egyptian left her +family to lead the life of shame she had chosen, in the great city. +Coming to a river, she desired to cross it in a boat, and having not +the wherewithal for her passage, she paid the boatman in an impure +manner. + +"Later, she undertook a journey to Jerusalem with a great number of +pilgrims, and on that occasion again she paid the expenses of her +journey in diabolical fashion, especially if we remember that those +whom she enticed into evil ways were devout pilgrims! And so, when she +presented herself at the door of the temple, an invisible and +invincible force held her back. She could not gain admission there." + +Monsieur le cure was better satisfied with that, and took a pinch of +snuff. + +"She thereupon withdrew to the desert, where she lived forty-seven +years. Her image appeared one day to the monk Sosimus at Jerusalem. +She appeared before him naked and begged him to come and confess her. +He obeyed, and went into the desert. He found her, naked, indeed, but +very old. And Sosimus was convinced of her saintliness because she had +the power of walking on the water. He listened to her confession. She +died in the odor of sanctity, as decrepit and horrible to look upon as +she had been fair and pleasant to the sight. A lion dug a grave for +her with his claws in the sand of the desert. + +"The Egyptian's long penance had redeemed her life, therefore, and +under Louis IX. the Parisians dedicated a church to her, which bore +the name of Sainte-Marie-l'Egyptienne,--corrupted at a later period to +_La Gypecienne_ and then to _La Jussienne_. This church was on Rue +Montmartre, at the corner of Rue de la Jussienne. + +"The church contained a stained window representing the saint and the +boatman, with this inscription: _How the saint offered her body to the +boatman to pay her passage._[5] + +"We must not, then, in any case, confound Saint Sara, a contemporary +of the Christ, with Marie the Egyptian, who lived in the fifth +century,--a fact that cuts short all controversy. + +"It is very fortunate," continued Monsieur le cure, well pleased with +his somewhat tardy conclusion, "that such a sinner was not among those +on board the boat of our Maries-de-la-Mer, for in that boat, as we +have said above, there were several of the Christ's disciples. +_Spiritus quidem promptus est; caro autem infirma._"[6] + +Monsieur le cure took snuff, he removed and replaced his spectacles. +Monsieur le cure forgot himself. He went over all the early pages of +his treatise, he struck out and interlined; he struggled with +rebellious words. From time to time, he adjusted his spectacles more +firmly, and opened and consulted an ancient book of great size. He was +very busy, very deeply absorbed in his favorite employment. He forgot +that somebody was waiting for him, and poor Livette, all alone in the +parlor, with the dead birds and the shells, was sadly disturbed in +mind. The melancholy that possessed her was not dissipated--far from +it!--by the place in which she found herself. + +All the dead birds, most of which she recognized as birds of passage, +reminded her of the weariness of winter, the season when the +wave-washed island is immersed in fog. + +There were screech-owls, the pale-yellow owls that live in +church-steeples and at night drink the oil in the church-lamps; +vultures that come down from the Alps and Pyrenees in times of +excessive cold; the ash-colored vulture that lives at Sainte-Baume. +There are little tomtits, called _serruriers_ (locksmiths), which are +found only on the banks of the Rhone, and _pendulines_, so called +because they hang their nests like little pendulums from the flexible +branches swaying to and fro above the water; and _stocking-makers_, +whose nests resemble the tissue of a knitted stocking; and the +_alcyon_, that is to say, the _bleuret_ or kingfisher; and the +_siren_, of the brilliant diversified plumage, called also +_honey-eater_, which flies north in the month of May, and spends its +winters by preference in Camargue. There was a stork, that probably +considered Camargue, between the dikes of the Rhone, a little like +Holland. There, too, was the heron with its frill of delicate +feathers, falling like a long fringe over its throat. Livette knew it +only by the name of _galejon_, bestowed upon it in that neighborhood +because the herons' favorite place of assemblage was the pond of +Galejon. There was one that bore on its pedestal the date: 1807, and +the words: _Purchased at Arles market_; it was of a bluish slate +color, and had on its head three slender black feathers, a foot in +length. Then there were flamingoes galore, for they sometimes build +their nests by myriads in the marshes of Crau, sitting astride their +nests which are as tall as their legs. And the divers! and grebes! and +penguins, which are seldom seen! And the rascally pelican, called by +the people thereabouts _grand gousier_! + +Livette fancied that she could hear in the distance the mournful, +heart-rending cry of the birds of passage, rising above the roar of +the wind and the sound of the river shedding its tears into the +ocean; dominating the mysterious sounds that fill the darkness. How +many times had she heard the cries of cranes and petrels and Egyptian +curlews over the Chateau d'Avignon in the season when the nights are +long, when the sight of the fire rejoices the heart like a living +thing full of promise, when the blackness of death envelops the world. +The birds remind her also of the Christmas evenings, the evenings when +the logs blazing in the huge fire-place and the many lamps seem to +say: "Courage! the night will pass." And it is then that the wheat +shows its green stalk, saying likewise: "Yes, courage! bad weather, +like all other, comes to an end at last." + +Livette mused thus, and mechanically raised her eyes to the ceiling, +from which the crocodile was hanging.[7] + +Livette did not say to herself that there was, somewhere on the other +side of the great sea, in the same Egypt to which Saint Joseph and the +Virgin Mary fled to protect the Child Jesus from the persecution of +King Herod, a great river, the mighty brother of the Rhone, and that +in the hottest hours of the day, on the islands in the Nile, the +crocodiles crawl in great numbers out upon the overheated sands to +expose their backs to the rays of a sun as hot as any oven. + +She did not say to herself that Saint Sara, the swarthy patron saint +of the gipsies, is called by them the Egyptian, and that they water +their gaunt horses in the Nile as well as in the Rhone. She could not +say to herself--because she knew it not--that the Egyptians inherit +from the Hindoos a debased sort of magic, and that it was the same +sort, even more debased without doubt, that gave Zinzara her power. + +Nor did Livette know that Zinzara carried in one of the boxes in her +ambulatory house--between a crocodile from the Nile and a sacred ibis, +both found in an Egyptian crypt--the mummy of a young girl, six +thousand years old, whose face, from which the bandages had been +taken, wore a mask of gold. She could conceive no connection between +the ibis of the Nile and yonder creature of the same name killed +within the year on the shore of the Vaccares, but she underwent the +influence of all these mysterious connecting currents to which space +and time are naught. + +The lifeless creatures, scattered all about her, lived again by virtue +of the power of retaining their form forever. And fear seized upon +her, for suddenly the mad idea, at once vague and precise, entered her +mind of a resemblance between the profile of the great reptile hanging +from the ceiling and the lower part of the gipsy queen's face. + +Livette thought that she must be ill, and rose to go, determined to +wait no longer, but as she put out her hand to the door she uttered a +cry. A centipede was crawling along the key, as lively as you please. +She recoiled, and saw upon the white wall, at about the level of her +head, a _tarente_, that seemed to be watching her with its pale-gray +eyes. The _tarente_ is inoffensive, but Livette knew nothing of that. +It is the Mauritanian _gecko_, which abounds in Provence, a reptile +repugnant to the sight, with gray protuberances on the head and back +like those upon cantaloupe melons. And then the little fellow, the +tiny creature, resembles the crocodile!--Surely, Livette has the +fever. + +"What's the matter, my child?" + +Monsieur le cure has entered the room. He has a kindly air that +comforts the poor child at once. + +He points to a chair. She sits down and dares not say a word. Where +shall she begin? + +He urges her. + +"Well, my child?" + +He closes his eyes, that he may not embarrass her by his glance, which +he knows to be searching. He has left his spectacles up-stairs on his +great book. He closes his eyes; and with compressed lips, presses his +jaws against each other to a sort of rhythm, so that you can see his +temples bulge out and subside like a fish's gills. It is a nervous +affection. His hands are folded on his waist; he clasps his fingers +and plays at making them revolve about one another, mechanically; but +he is keenly attentive. Monsieur le cure loves the souls of his +fellow-men. He knows that they suffer, that life is infinite, and that +they veer about and call to one another in the boundless expanse of +space and time, like birds in a storm. He is reflecting. He is a +kind-hearted priest. He is imbued with the spirit of the Gospel. He +is indulgent. Does he not know that some great saints have been great +sinners? He desires to be kind. He knows how to be. + +What can be the matter? + +At last, Livette speaks. She tells him everything; the gipsy's first +appearance, her refusal to give her the oil she asked for insolently, +with jeering remarks about extreme unction; then of the ominous spell +she cast upon her, realized even now perhaps; the change in her +Renaud's character, his coldness, his flight; and then, that very +morning, the scene of the snakes; how she had been attracted--partly +by curiosity, no doubt, but also by her conviction that she should +hear something of Renaud. And how she gave her hand to the gipsy to +have her fortune told! That, she had done against her inclination! She +knew that it was wrong. Who would have dared say a moment before that +she would commit such a sin? But she was afraid of seeming cowardly, +not because of what the world would say, but because of _her_, the +gitana, in whose presence she deemed it her duty to display pride and +courage. She felt that she was very hostile to her. She was afraid of +her, and yet, in her despite, she would defy her. She was the stronger +of the two.--At last, she arrives at her most shocking avowal--she is +jealous. A terrible thought has come into her mind; is it possible +that Renaud could----? But no. Did he not, to save her from Rampal, +risk his life by leaping down from a first-floor window the whole +height of the house? To be sure, Rampal had stolen a horse from +Renaud, and Renaud had been looking for him for a long time---- + +Livette is undone. She has glanced at Monsieur le cure, who, before +replying, is listening to his own thoughts, in order not to be +diverted from the matter in hand. He is still playing with his clasped +fingers, making them revolve about one another. + +Around them the swans, the pelican, the red flamingo, the petrel, the +ibis, look on with their eyes of glass imbedded in those heads that +have lived! There they stand, those phantom birds, with wings +outspread and one claw put forward, exactly similar in shape, color, +and plumage to the birds that are soaring above the Nile and the +Ganges, beyond seas, at this moment, and no less like other birds that +lived six thousand years ago. + +The reptile on the ceiling, laughing down at them with his numerous +long, sharp teeth, does, in very truth, resemble some one a +little--but whom? + +Livette, as she puts the question to herself, suddenly comes to the +conclusion that she is insane, utterly insane, to have had such an +idea! She smiles at it herself. And she seems to _feel_ her smile. She +does feel it. She fancies she can see it! + +And at the moment she is conscious of a sensation--and a painful +sensation it is--of being there, in that same room, surrounded by +those creatures and in the presence of a priest--_for the second time +in her life_! + +Yes, all her present surroundings _she has seen before_--this that is +happening to her _has happened before_. But the first time was a long +while ago, oh! such a long while! The great reptile on the ceiling +remembers, perhaps. That is why it laughs.--But she has forgotten _all +about it_. Why is she here? She no longer knows even that. She was a +fool to come here! + +This Camargue country, you see, is the home of malignant fever. It +rises from the swamps in the sunshine, with fetid odors, exhalations +that disturb the brain and the action of the blood. From the dead +vegetation, from the dead water, bad dreams and fever rise like vapor. +There is an _evil atmosphere_ there; and the _evil eye_ too, thinks +Livette. + +But who can say of what the mummy lying in Zinzara's wagon is thinking +all this time--the mummy of which Livette knows nothing, and which is +of the same age as Livette, plus six thousand years? Like Livette, it +has wavy hair, very long, but somewhat faded by time. It was once as +black as jet like that of the women of Arles. The mummy is of the same +age as Livette, plus six thousand years! The gipsies believe that so +long as the dead body retains its shape, something of its spirit +continues to dwell within it. Zinzara affirms that this mummy, which +she procured in Egypt, speaks to her sometimes and tells her things. + +Ah! if we should undertake to go to the bottom of the simplest facts, +how they would puzzle us! Our Saracen mares of Camargue, sisters of +Al-Borak, Mahomet's white mare, and the bulls of the Vaccares, +brothers of Apis, sometimes absent-mindedly take into their mouths, in +the heart of the swamps, the long, gently-waving stalk of the +mysterious lotus that lives three lives at once, in the mud with its +root, in the water with its stalk, in the blue air with its flower. + +Not without reason do the zingari, descendants of Coudra, flock to the +crypt of the three-storied church, there to adore the shrine of Sara, +Pilate's wife--the Egyptian woman. + +Monsieur le cure, who is a profound student, is revolving all these +things confusedly in his mind--with no very clear understanding of +them himself--and pondering them. + +Ah! if he could, how quickly he would sweep the island clear of the +gipsy vermin! But he cannot. Tradition forbids. Sara in the crypt is +their saint. There is a mixture of pagan and Christian in the affair, +painful to contemplate certainly, but with which he has no right to +interfere. The essential thing is that the Christian shall triumph +over the pagan, that God shall prevail against Satan--for certain it +is, whatever the gipsies may say, that they are not descended from the +wise king who was a negro and who brought the myrrh to Jesus. + +How to protect Livette? + +"Do not remain alone with your thoughts, my child. Carry your rosary +always with you, and tell your beads often, not mechanically but with +your whole heart. Confide your sorrows to your good grandmother, whose +Christian sentiments I well know. That simple-minded old woman has a +great heart. + +"Avoid the town. Tell your father--who has always done as you wished, +nor has he had reason to repent of so doing--to have an eye to his +house, and never to leave you alone. Avoid Renaud for some little +time; at all events, do not seek him. He must have an opportunity to +read his own heart clearly; we must not--by trying to bring him back +to you--help him to mistake his affection for you, which is not, +perhaps, so deep as it should be. I will speak to him myself when I +have an opportunity. The day after to-morrow is the day of the fete at +Saintes-Maries. Do not fail to be present; bring us that day a heart +filled with faith and with the desire to do what is right. You will +meet many unfortunates there. Turn your eyes toward those who are more +wretched than yourself, and by comparing their lot with yours, you +will see how fortunate you are, who have youth and good health. + +"The health of the soul depends upon ourselves. You will save yours. + +"You will be the one, on the day of the fete, to sing the solo of +invocation just as the reliquaries descend--I ask you to do it, and, +if need be, I will lay the duty upon you as a penance. + +"She who thinks on God and the holy women forgets all earthly ills. +Knock, and it shall be opened unto you. They who fear shall be +reassured. Blessed are they who weep, for they shall be comforted----" + +Monsieur le cure broke off abruptly. He realized, the kind-hearted +man, that his discourse was, by force of habit, degenerating into a +commonplace sermon, and, rising from his chair, he walked quickly +toward the door, bestowing an affectionate tap on the trembling +maiden's cheek with two fingers of the hand that held his snuff-box, +saying to her in a fatherly tone: + +"Go, little one; you have a good heart. The wicked can do naught +against us. I will pray for you at Mass. Everybody in the country +loves you. Have no fear, my daughter." + +Livette took her leave. The cure, left to himself, sighed. He saw that +Livette was confronted by an ill-defined, strange, diabolical peril, +of the kind that cannot be turned aside, that God alone can avert. + +"It is fate," he muttered, employing unthinkingly a word of twofold +signification.[8] "It is fate," he repeated. "Life is a sea of +troubles, and God is mysterious." + + + + +XVI + +ON THE ROOF OF THE CHURCH + + +Renaud, after his victory, dismounted for a moment, and, sitting down +beside Bernard, on the shore of the Vaccares, where the cattle and +mares of his drove had resumed their attitude of repose, he set about +reviewing recent events in his mind. + +To overturn his projected marriage, to ruin his future for the sake of +the gipsy, for the sake of the unworthy passion that was at work +within him--most assuredly Renaud had no such idea. + +When the first fury of his desire was worked off by wild leaps and +bounds, after the fashion of his horse Prince, he found a way to be +reconciled with himself. His rugged honesty was impaired. He would try +to satisfy his passion for the accursed gipsy when occasion offered; +and that, he felt very sure, would do Livette no wrong! + +Like a clever casuist, he combated his own instinctively honest +impulses with arguments which he invented with much labor, and then +complacently refined and elaborated, playing tricks upon himself. + +Now that he could boast of having fought Rampal on Livette's +account,--omitting in his thoughts the other two reasons he had had +for fighting, namely, his determination to recover the stolen horse +and his desire to display his strength and courage to Zinzara,--he +could return to the Chateau d'Avignon with his head in the air, and +meet his fiancee again as if nothing had happened. + +Why, after all, should he be ashamed? Had he not established a fresh +claim to Livette's gratitude and the esteem of her relatives? + +He would take poor Blanchet back to her,--Blanchet, of whom she was so +fond,--and he could tell old Audiffret that the stolen horse was once +more browsing, with the drove, on the reed-grass of the estate. + +No: after mature reflection, he was sure that there was nothing that +need make him ashamed. + +Indeed, when one is not married, is he required to be so absolutely +faithful? And what is a man to do, when things fall in his way? + +The eyes see before one has had an opportunity to prevent them! Even +after marriage, can one refrain from being moved by the sight of +youthful loveliness? Can one control the movements of his blood? +Desire is not a sin, and so long as Livette knew nothing, so long as +she did not suffer through him, what reason had he, in all frankness, +for self-reproach? + +Nothing had come about by his procurement. He was still determined not +to speak to the gipsy woman--but he would be a great fool not to put +out his hand if the golden peach should offer itself to him +voluntarily. + +And the salt breeze that blew across the rushes, arousing the passions +of the wild cattle, rushed through his veins, causing the blood to +rise in sudden flushes to his cheeks. + +Of what avail against that breeze, which the heifers inhale with +delight, is the "I will not" of a young man who feels his youth? The +good Lord forgives it in others. "I have been worrying a great deal +over a very small matter of late," thought Renaud. And he sagely +concluded that he would return at once to Saintes-Maries, to set +Livette's mind at rest, as it was his duty to do first of all, without +avoiding or seeking out the other. + +Meanwhile, what had Livette been doing? + +When she left the cure, almost at the same moment that Renaud was +unhorsing Rampal, Livette had no wish but to take her horse and ride +home at once, without even waiting for dinner. + +She felt that she was lost in such close proximity to the ill-omened +gipsies. + +Her first thought was that Renaud, if he had overtaken Rampal, whom he +could not fail to master, would go without loss of time to the Chateau +d'Avignon. + +But her second thought was that he would return to Saintes-Maries to +make the most of his triumph. She knew Renaud well! He was proud of +his strength and address. He was spoiled by the public at the races, +who applauded with hands and voice, and he loved to hear the "Bravo, +Renaud!"--He would return to the town, yes, he surely would! + +He might imagine, indeed, that she, Livette, had remained there, and +return on her account--and a little on the other's account, at the +same time!--Ah! poor child! suspicion was just beginning to creep into +her mind. Just God! suppose that that zingara woman should fascinate +her Renaud! + +Livette, having found her horse still tied to the church-wall, sent +him to the stable at the inn and went to the fisherman Tonin's to +share his _bouille-abaisse_. + +"You did well, Livette," said Tonin, "you have avoided a sharp squall +of the _mistral_. But I know what I'm talking about; it's nothing but +a squall, and you can go home this afternoon quietly enough. It will +be too hot, if anything. But what's the matter, that you're so +thoughtful?" + +Livette heard but little of all that was said at the fisherman's +table, and, after due reflection, returned to Monsieur le cure's after +the meal was at an end. + +"Are you still at Saintes-Maries, little one?" he said, with a sad +smile. + +"I had a fright, my father----" + +Livette sometimes addressed the cure thus, because of the custom in +confession. + +"A fright? how was that?" + +"Suppose they have fought, who knows what may have happened? _Mon +Dieu!_ chance is uncertain, and that Rampal is so treacherous that +Renaud may be the loser. I would like, with your permission, Monsieur +le cure, to go up on the roof of the church at once; from there I +could see Renaud much sooner if he comes back here." + +The happy thought had come to her of watching her betrothed, as he +himself had, that same morning, watched Rampal from the wine-shop +window. + +The cure smiled again and good-humoredly took down the keys of the +little staircase that leads to the upper chapel and thence to the +bell-tower. + +He left the house, followed by Livette. + +At the foot of the great bare wall of the church, so high and cold,--a +veritable rampart with its battlements sharply defined against the +blue of the sky,--the good cure opened the small door. + +They ascended the stairs. + +When they reached the upper chapel, which is just above the choir of +the church, as we know, the cure said: + +"I will remain here, little one, to offer up a prayer to the holy +women; you can go on alone." + +But Livette, without replying, knelt devoutly beside the cure for an +instant, before the relics. + +The relics were there, behind the ropes coiled about the capstan, by +means of which they were lowered into the church, as the little jug +from which the lips of the faithful drank so eagerly was lowered into +the miraculous well below;--there they were, on the edge of the +opening through which they were launched into space. + +Through this window-like opening into the body of the church Livette +could see the chairs systematically arranged below, and, higher up, +the galleries, the pulpit, and the pictures--all well-nigh hidden in +the dark shadow, intersected by two rays of light that darted in, like +arrows, through the narrow loopholes. + +Away down, below the gallery at the rear, opposite where she stood, +the chinks in the great square door were marked like fine lines of +fire by the sunshine without. + +She gazed for a long moment at the blessed shrines, and conjured them +to turn aside the evil spell that she could feel about her. + +And, do what she would, as she gazed at the shrines, which had the +appearance of two coffins laid side by side and welded together, +Livette was conscious that her thoughts became more melancholy than +ever. Had she not seen, year after year, some poor, infirm wretch in +despair lie at full length on cushions in the acute angle formed by +the two lids of the double coffin? And how many of them had been +cured? One in fifty thousand, and only at long intervals? + +And yet, what scores of votive offerings that lofty chapel +held,--pictures, commemorative marble tablets, crutches, guns with +shattered barrels, and small boats presented by sailors saved after +shipwreck! Aye, but in how many years have the miracles been performed +of which these offerings are the tokens?--One shudders to think how +many. + +And Livette, well content to divert her thoughts from such painful +subjects, left Monsieur le cure at his prayers, and went up on the +roof of the church. + +The bright glare of the sky, bursting suddenly upon her, dazzled her. +She had to close her eyes; then she looked down upon the plain. The +plain was a flood of light. + +The rascally _mistral_, that blows three, six, or nine days at a time +when it has fairly buckled down to work, had simply taken a whim, as +Tonin had foreseen. Not a leaf was stirring now. The sea had not had +time to grow angry below the surface. It was laughing. The ponds were +as smooth as mirrors. The sun shone hotter than ever in the clearer +air. + +The swallows and martins circled about Livette's head, uttering in +endless succession shrill, piercing cries that constantly came nearer +and again receded. The pointed wings of the martins, also called +_arbaletriers_ or cross-bowmen, brushed against the turrets and shot +into the loopholes like arrows. + +Livette looked off into the desert straight before her, and, not +seeing what she expected, she let her glance wander here and there +over the vast expanse, attractive but monotonous, which one can +traverse, from end to end, without ever seeing aught but endless +repetition of the same sand, the same tufts of grass, the same +gleaming waters. + +From the top of the church the horizon seemed almost limitless in +every direction, for the golden peaks of the little Alps, vaguely +outlined down in the northeast, seem to be no more than jagged bits of +cloud. + +When you are looking at them from that point, you have at your right, +to the eastward, Crau and the _sansouires_, Martigues, and Marseilles +beyond the salt marshes of Giraud, cut into rectangular mounds of +glistening salt. In the west is little Camargue, with its temporary +ponds, its rare groves of pine, its euphorbium and branching asphodel, +and its Etang des Fournaux, the father of mirages, and filled with +shells, although it has no connection with the sea. + +In this vast, flat region, the mind and the eye fall into the habit of +looking always to the horizon, embracing as much space as possible in +the hope of finding some inequality. + +But they cannot escape the unchanging monotony, even less varied than +the monotony of the sea, for the sea changes color, and is by turns +black, blue, pale-green, dark-purple, or golden. + +In our desert there are everywhere the same tamarisks, the same reeds, +and--round about the six thousand hectares covered by the waters of +the Vaccares--always the same horizon lines, nowhere absolutely +unbroken, but almost everywhere festooned with clumps of tamarisks; +the mirage will always show you a pond gleaming in some spot of the +plain where none is to be found; and the fisherman, walking along the +shore, increases enormously in size as he recedes, because of the +refraction. + +Sometimes the month of May is as hot in Camargue as August. + + "Au mois de Mai + Va comme il te plait." + +Livette was dazzled by the glare, and lowered her eyes to scan, with +her keen glance, the most distant clumps of tamarisks, to follow the +almost invisible ribbon of the cart-road that leads from the Vaccares +to Saintes-Maries. Her eyes are tired, and scorching in her head. +There is nothing in the landscape to give them rest. + +Everywhere the treeless soil exhales a burning breath that rises in +visible vibrations. The spirit of the earth breaks its bonds and +hovers over her. She can see it ascending in hot waves. Her eyes +perceive the transparent undulations, the heat trembling in the cool +air, the very soul of the interior fire that trembles so to the sight +that one fancies he can hear it rustle. It is the never-ceasing dance +of the reflected light. + +Weary of the glare of the plain, Livette turned toward the sea, but +the sea was simply an immense burnished mirror which flashed back at +the eyes, from the countless facets of its swiftly moving fragments, +the glow of the blazing sky multiplied beyond expression. + +When she looked down once more upon the plain, she saw, about a league +away, a horseman trotting briskly toward the Saintes-Maries. By an +indefinable something in the bearing of that tiny speck she recognized +her Renaud. + +So no harm had come to him! + +She was on the point of going down again, when suddenly she forced +herself to bide a little there, to see what he would do when he +arrived. + +He was already passing the public spring. He turned to the left, and +disappeared for a moment behind the houses. He was coming toward the +church. + +From embrasure to embrasure she ran, to follow him with her eyes; and +in a few seconds he rode out into the square in front of the church, +at the foot of the Calvary erected there. + +She leaned over and watched him. Where was he going? He had stopped. +His tired horse was standing quite still, simply moving his long tail +from side to side to drive away the gnats and gadflies that were +riddling his bleeding flanks with wounds, for, after the _mistral_, +the gadflies dance! And then? Nothing. Absolute silence in the vast +glowing expanse. Livette instinctively noticed that the horse's dark +shadow, clearly marked upon the ground, was already elongated, +indicating that it was four o'clock. + +She continued to question herself as to Renaud's attitude--what was +he doing there, standing still like that?--when suddenly the sound of +a woman's voice singing floated up to her ears. + +In the perfect silence, that voice, clear as a bell, poured forth +outlandish words that neither Renaud nor Livette could understand. + +The zingara sang: + +"Allow the romichal, the tzigane, to pass. He is the spectre of a true +king. Kingly is his tattered cloak. A saddle is his throne. Is the +whole earth thy kingdom, Romichal? + +"At Boerenthal they speak the language of the Zend. Oh! the Coudra +would become pope! Thinkst thou it was the evil-doer who invented +evil? Nay, nay; put not thy trust in God, and remain free, Romichal! + +"The Rhine, too, is a Nile. And the Rhone likewise. But thy mare +prefers to drink in the river of Chal! The Nile alone can make thy +hope neigh aloud, O Romichal!" + +With her eye, like a migratory bird's, Zinzara had long before spied +Livette perched up aloft between the crenelles of the church-roof, +and, seeing Renaud riding toward her, she, in joyous mood as always, +had begun to sing, from mere caprice and bravado, within the circle of +the echo of the lofty walls. + +Like the serpents at the sound of her flute, Renaud was fascinated. +The gipsy suspected as much. + +And when she had finished her song she showed herself. + +"Surely thou hast killed thy foe, romi?" she said. "But how is it that +I do not see his heart at the point of thy spear? Thy maiden whose +blood is like snow will ask thee for it ere long. Ah! that was a kiss +well avenged--for a Christian! For if thy foe still sat in his saddle, +thou wouldst not be in thine, I suppose? Listen, then, my +beauty--although it be, in very truth, a crime for us zingari women to +deem a Christian fair to look upon, I must tell thee, none the less: +On the honor of a queen, romi, thou art handsome as a son of my own +race, brave as a highwayman, as fine a horseman as the best of us, +proud as a free man! I regret neither my anger of the other day, nor +my song of a moment ago, nor the compliment I pay thee now: for I +never do aught save that which pleases me! and my very anger does me +better service than reflection! Adieu, romi, may thy God guard thee, +if He knows me!" + +Livette had heard nothing but the sharp, incisive tone in which the +gipsy spoke; she could not distinguish her words. + +But as Zinzara went away, she took good care, before she disappeared +at the corner of the square, to send a kiss to the drover with her +finger-tips--a kiss which seemed to him, because he could see her +smile, a bit of raillery, but which was in Livette's eyes a token of +requited love. Renaud thereupon admitted to himself that he had +returned to Saintes-Maries in quest of nothing else than this +compliment from the gipsy--something that drew him nearer to the +seductive creature! + + [Illustration: Chapter XVI + + _From embrasure to embrasure she ran, to follow him with her + eyes; and in a few seconds he rode out into the square in + front of the church, at the foot of the Calvary erected + there._ + + _She leaned over and watched him. Where was he going? He had + stopped._] + +Now he had no choice but to turn back. He preferred not to see Livette +at once! He preferred to return to the free air of the desert, to set +his thoughts in order, discover his real feelings, reckon up his +chances, and, after that was done, to be left alone with the image of +the gitana, from whom he parted willingly, however, for he was very +glad to be at a distance from her, with unrestrained freedom of +movement, the better to think of her. + +Before leaving the roof of the church, Livette cast a glance upon the +broad expanse of Camargue at her feet. Ah! how empty was that immense +space! The few scattered houses which would have delighted her eyes in +the plain, were hidden by the clumps of umbrella-like pines beneath +which they stood. Nothing human replied to the cry of distress uttered +by her poor heart, which longed to follow the bewitched drover into +the desert, and which seemed to her to flutter down from the summit of +the tower to the ground, where it was crushed by the fall like a bird +fallen from its nest. + + + + +XVII + +THE OLD WOMAN + + +Renaud rode at a foot-pace to the _Menage_, one of the farms belonging +to the Chateau d'Avignon. He had ordered Bernard to bring Blanchet to +him there, intending to take him back to the chateau. It was but a +short distance from one to the other. + +He was exceedingly astonished to find that the more he reflected upon +what had happened to him--and it was really what he had hoped for--the +more dissatisfied he was. + +He believed that he had finally formed, in spite of everything, a +fairly accurate estimate of the gipsy's character--a fact that pleased +him. He had simply said to himself that she was an uncivilized +creature, since she could forget all shame of her nakedness in her +haste to punish as best she could a man she deemed overbold. From her +very immodesty, from the arrogance and malignity she had exhibited at +their first meeting, he had, strangely enough, evolved a proof of +chastity so sure of itself, so disdainful of peril, that the +shameless creature seemed to him only the more desirable. + +He knew that the gipsy women esteem thieves, but not prostitutes, and +he had enjoyed seeing in Zinzara a sort of savage virgin, ferocious as +a wild beast of the Orient, over whom he, the tamer of beasts, would +be the first to enjoy the pride of triumph. And, lo! she suddenly +aroused in him a feeling of repulsion which he could not explain. +Simply because he had heard her pronounce a few words, of obscure +meaning, like all gipsy words, and threatening in tone as he ought to +expect,--more amiable, in point of fact, than he had any right to +hope,--he believed her, as if it had been revealed to him in a dream, +capable of anything, a _wicked woman_! He felt that the devil was in +her. + +He had no precise knowledge as to her age. Was she seventeen or +twenty-five? The swarthy tint of her impassive yet smiling face told +nothing, hid blushes and pallor alike. + +Her face was extremely young, and its expression was of no age. Renaud +had undergone the inexplicable fascination of that face, whereon the +malignity born of a woman's experience of the world, false for the +sake of omnipotence, was mingled with something child-like. + +Stronger men than he would have been caught in the snare. Neither king +nor priest could have escaped the evil fascination of the gitana! She +would have had but to will. The very things that repelled one were +attractive! + +So Renaud was caught, and his manner showed it. Sitting upon his tired +horse, upon the stallion whose fiery nature was subdued by so much +hard riding in all directions, and who carried his head less high, the +drover, supporting the head of his spear upon his stirrup while the +handle rested against his arm, seemed like a vanquished king, +humiliated by the feeling that he was a prisoner in the free air. + +He found Bernard at the _Menage_, in the huge room on the lower floor, +like those in all the farm-houses of the province, with the high +mantelpiece, the long massive table in the centre, the kneading-trough +of well-waxed walnut, the carved bread-cupboard with little columns, +fastened to the wall like a cage, and the shining copper pans. Upon +the whitewashed wall a few colored pictures were hanging: the +Saintes-Maries in their boat; Napoleon I. on the Bridge of Arcola, and +Genevieve de Brabant, with the roe, in the depths of a forest. + +An old shepherd was seated at the table, beside Bernard, slowly eating +his slice of bread. + +"Is it you, king?" said he as Renaud entered. "I have seen you hold +your head higher! What's the matter with you? you look downhearted. +Aren't you still a cattle-herder, my boy? A shepherd's virtue, young +man, is patience, remember that. What you can't find in a day you may +find in a hundred years." + +"Ah! there you are, Sigaud, eh?" Renaud replied, without answering +his questions. "When do you start for the Alps?" + +"Right away, my son. We are behindhand this year. I am just getting +ready." + +Nothing more was said. When they had eaten in silence their bread and +sheep's-milk cheese, and drunk a cup of sour wine made from the wild +grape, they rose. + +The shepherd threw his cloak over his arm, took his staff from a +corner, and having doffed his broad-brimmed hat before an old image of +the Nativity, that hung on the wall, embellished with a branch laden +with cocoons, and beneath which, on a carved oak stand, stood a little +lamp, long unlighted, he went slowly from the room. + +When Renaud, mounted upon Prince and leading Blanchet, left the +_Menage_, he rode some time with the shepherds, by the side of the +enormous flock on their way to the Alps, where they were to pass the +summer season. + +Two thousand sheep, led by the rams, and arranged in battalions and +companies, under the care of several shepherds of whom old Sigaud was +the chief, were trotting along the road with hanging heads, making +with their eight thousand feet a dull, smothered pattering, as of +falling hailstones, in the dense clouds of dust. The Labry dogs ran to +and fro along the edges of the flock, full of business, but frequently +turning their eyes toward their master. + +A few asses scattered among the different companies bore upon their +backs, jolting about in double wicker-baskets, the sleepy, bleating +lambs. + +Old Sigaud was in high feather, thinking of the cool, fresh air of the +Alps, where the grass is green and the water pure, and where he could +gaze in peace every night at Cassiopeia's Chair and the Three Kings +and the Pleiades in the heavens studded with myriads of stars. + +"Adieu, Sigaud," said Renaud, drawing rein when the time came for him +to part from the flock and its guardians. + +Sigaud also stopped in front of him. + +"Adieu, Renaud," said he gravely. "There must be a woman at the bottom +of your trouble. You are too sad. But we called you _King_ to do honor +to your courage, you mustn't forget that. Remember, too, that +everything is of some use, my boy, and that good may come out of evil. +It takes all kinds to make the world!" + +Renaud found Livette sitting on the stone bench in front of the door +of the chateau. He had not leaped down from Prince before she was +covering Blanchet with kisses. Audiffret was very glad to learn that +the stolen horse had returned to the drove, but when Renaud explained +that he had come, on this occasion, to return Blanchet, Livette showed +some feeling. + +"So you are not satisfied with what he has done for you?" said she. +"Such a pretty horse! and so clever!--or perhaps you are tired of +teaching him for me, of preventing him from learning bad tricks in the +stable, of training him so that I can have the pleasure of seeing him +return a winner from the races at Beziers, where my father is anxious +to send him next month?" + +"Certainly, Renaud," said Audiffret, "you ought to keep him. He gets +rusty here in the stable. But I am surprised at what Livette says. +Why, would you believe that she was regretting him this very morning, +saying that she proposed to ask you to bring him back to-day. And now +she doesn't want him!--It takes a very shrewd man to understand these +girls!" + +But what Audiffret could not understand, Renaud, for his part, +understood very well. The lovelorn damsel said to herself that, by +returning the horse, her fiance would rid himself of a reminder of +her, which was a cause of remorse to him perhaps--whereas, he ought, +like a jealous lover, to have wanted to look after Blanchet, and take +care of him for her, as long as possible. + +Renaud resisted as best he could. He would have a deal of hard riding +to do at the time of the fetes, he said, and he did not want to +overwork Blanchet or to leave him with the drove to become wild again. + +Thereupon, Audiffret, easily influenced by the last who spoke, agreed +with Renaud. + +While the discussion was in progress, Renaud had put up both horses in +the stable. That done, he went slowly up to the hay-loft, whence he +threw down an armful of hay into the racks through the openings in the +floor. + +When he went down again, Blanchet was standing alone in front of the +mangers, nibbling at the hay.--Renaud ran to the door. Livette, having +removed Prince's halter, was shouting at him and waving her pretty +arms to drive him away, naked and free. Honest Audiffret, delighted at +his daughter's cunning, laughed and laughed. And Prince, overjoyed to +return to the desert after these few days of slavery, thinking no more +of the oats to be had at the chateau, stood erect like a goat, neighed +shrilly with delight, shook his luxuriant mane, flung up his tail and +thrashed the air, alive with the flies he had driven from his +flanks--and darted away toward the horizon through the lane between +the trees in the park. + +Renaud had no choice but to submit with an affectation of gratitude, +and to laugh with the rest;--but it was more distasteful to him than +ever to ride a horse that belonged to him less than any other in the +drove, a horse that was his fiancee's. + +Thereupon, Audiffret went about his various tasks; and, two hours +later, when they were all assembled in the lower room of the +farm-house, Renaud, being suddenly seized with _ennui_ at the thought +that he was likely at any moment to have to endure an embarrassing +tete-a-tete with this same Livette whose company he had so ardently +desired a few days before, spoke of taking his leave. Audiffret +remonstrated, and invited him to supper. They would drink a glass in +honor of his victory. Renaud refused awkwardly, conscious how lacking +in courtesy such an utterly motiveless refusal was. + +But when the grandmother, who hardly ever spoke, urged him to stay, he +stayed. + +The old woman rarely spoke, for her thoughts were always with the dead +and gone grandfather, who had been the faithful companion of her +toilsome life. She was slowly drying up, like wood that is sound in +all its fibres, but has lost its sap. Hers was a lovely old age, such +as are seen in the land of the grasshopper, where people live sober +lives, preserved by the light. Already advanced in years when she came +to Camargue, she had never suffered from the malevolence of the +swamps. It was too late. The cypress-tree does not allow the worms to +draw their lines upon its surface. + +She was patiently awaiting death, sometimes mumbling _paters_ upon her +rosary of olive-nuts, gazing fearlessly, with her dimmed eyes, +straight before her at the vague shadow wherein her departed old man, +her good, faithful Tiennet, was waiting for her;--Tiennet, who had +never, in forty years, caused her a pang, and whom she had never +wronged by a smile, even in the days of her gayest youth. Tiennet, +from the depths of the shadow, sometimes called to her softly, and +then the old woman would be heard to murmur, in a dreamy voice: "I am +coming, good man! I am coming!" + +Being left alone for a moment with Livette, just before supper, +Renaud did not know what to say. Nor did she. He did not dare to lie, +and she hoped that he would open his heart and confess. At one moment, +she felt that the very fact of his silence was sufficient proof of his +treachery, and the next moment, on the contrary, she said to herself: +"If there was an understanding between them, he would not be here! I +was mad! He loves me." + +At supper, he was very talkative, told about his battles and his +hunting exploits; how, the year before, with that rascal of a Rampal, +he had beaten up two coveys of partridges, on horseback, in a single +morning. They had taken twenty-eight, more than twenty being killed on +the wing at a single casting of their staves, Arab-fashion. + +Audiffret, overjoyed at the recovery of a horse he had thought lost +forever, drew from under the woodpile an old-fashioned bottle, a gift +from the masters, those masters who are always absent--like all the +landowners of Camargue, who prefer to dwell in cities,--Paris, +Marseilles, or Montpellier,--leaving the desert to their _bailiffs_. + +"Ah! the masters in old times!" said Audiffret, "they had more courage +and were better served and better loved!" Renaud, becoming more and +more animated, stood up for the times we live in. The grandmother, +grave and serious as always, said once to Audiffret at table, +speaking of Renaud: "Wait upon your son, my son." Well, well, he was +decidedly one of the family. + +And that certainty, which it behooved him to retain at any price, +instead of moving his heart to gratitude, led him on to play the +hypocrite. He was ready to betray Livette, without renouncing her, for +he loved her so dearly, so sincerely, that he felt that he was ready, +on the other hand, to renounce the gitana, without too great a pang, +if circumstances should make it necessary. He laughed a great deal, +raising his glass with great frequency, and winking involuntarily at +Audiffret, as if to say: "We are sly fellows!" But honest Audiffret +could not detect his excitement. He had never interested himself in +anything except the farm accounts. He had never divined anything in +all his life, not he!--As far as the gipsy was concerned, she +certainly would not leave Saintes-Maries before the fete, that is to +say, for a week or more. After that, she could go where she chose! it +would make little difference to him. What could he hope for from a +wandering creature like that? An hour's meeting at the cross-roads on +the way to Arles! Nothing more! + +As to Zinzara, he had hopes; as to Livette, he had certainty. And he +was very light of heart. + +So it was, that, when the time came for him to take his leave, he +indulged in an outburst of affection toward his new family, quite +contrary to his usual habit, and to the habit of all drovers, who are +rough-mannered by profession. + +You must know that the peasants, in general, do not kiss except on +great occasions--weddings or baptisms. Only the mothers kiss their +young children. The man of the soil is of stern mould. + +"Audiffret," the grandmother suddenly said to her son, laying her +knitting on the table and her spectacles on her knitting;--"Audiffret, +every day brings me a little nearer the end, and I would like to see +this marriage take place before I die. You must hurry it as much as +possible, now that it's decided on. And if I can't be present on the +wedding-day, don't forget, my children, that the old woman blessed you +from the bottom of her heart to-night." + +And, without another word, she calmly took up the stockings and +needles. + +She had spoken almost without inflection, in a grave, calm tone, +moving her lips only. + +Every one was deeply moved. Livette looked at Renaud. He, carried away +by his emotion, forgot everything except this new family that offered +itself to him, the orphan. Livette saw it and was grateful to him for +it. She felt that he was won back, like the stolen horse, and she +sprang to her feet in a burst of enthusiasm. + +"Kiss me, my betrothed!" said she proudly. + +He kissed her with heartfelt sincerity. + +The father and the grandmother looked on with eyes that gradually +became dim with tears. + +When he had pressed the father's hand, Renaud turned to the +grandmother, as she stuck her knitting-needle into the white hair that +fluttered about her temples. + +"Kiss me, grandmother!" he said, with a smile. + +The old woman gave a leap, then stood erect, recoiling a little as if +in fear: + +"Since my husband died, no man has ever kissed me," she said, "not +even my son there! Let young people kiss. Life is before them. I," she +added, "am already with the dead." + +And with that, the old peasant-woman, straight and stiff and +withered,--the image of a by-gone time, when it was deemed a +praiseworthy thing to remain true to a single sentiment,--sought the +bed of her old age, which was soon to see her lying dead, with the +tranquillity of a simple, loving, faithful heart upon her +parchment-like face. + + + + +XVIII + +THE BLESSED RELICS + + +The great day has arrived. From all parts of Languedoc and Provence, +pilgrims, rich and poor, have come to Saintes-Maries. There are fully +ten thousand strangers in the town. + +For three days past they have been arriving in vehicles of all shapes +and of all ages. + +Many of these pilgrims lodge with the villagers at extraordinary, +princely rates. A bunch of straw on the floor brings twenty francs. +The villager himself sleeps on a chair, or passes the night in the +open air on the warm sand of the dunes. If the bulls arrive during the +night for the sports of the following day, he assists the drovers to +drive them into the compound, in the wake of the _dondaire_, the +enormous ox with a bell. + +The houses are soon filled to overflowing. New-comers are obliged to +camp. Tents are pitched. People live in carts and wagons, in breaks, +tilburys, caleches, omnibuses, as far away as possible, be it +understood, from the gipsy encampment. + +Around the little town, the hundreds of vehicles constitute a roving +town of their own, resting there like a flock of birds of passage +around a swamp. + +And on all sides naught can be seen but tattered, crippled, +hunchbacked, deformed, blind, or one-eyed creatures, broken in health, +lame, maimed, scrofulous, and paralytic, dragging themselves along or +dragged by others, carried in men's arms or on litters, some with +bandages over their faces, others displaying unhealed wounds from +which one turns aside in horror. + +Here a poor fellow who has been bitten by a mad dog wanders about with +gloomy brow, tormented by insane anxiety and hope, for a pilgrimage to +Saintes-Maries is especially efficacious against hydrophobia. + +All varieties of misfortune are represented. All the children of Job +and Tobias have journeyed hither to find the healing angel and the +miraculous fish. + +A motley crowd swarms upon the public square in the bright sunlight, +and in the narrow streets, under the luminous shadow of the awnings. +From time to time, it parts, with loud shouts, before a drover, who +rides proudly by, his sweetheart _en croupe_ with her arms about his +waist. + +Here and there flat baskets laden with rosaries, sacred images, +Catalan knives, and handkerchiefs of brilliant hue stand out like +islets in the midst of the sea of promenaders, and all the merchandise +displayed for sale takes on a pink or pale-blue tint through the great +stationary umbrellas that shield it from the sun. + +Amid the fantastic piercing notes of a _galoubet_, or high-pitched +flute, tambourines can be heard humming in cadence in the interior of +a wine-shop, where young girls of the province are dancing in +Provencal costume, dark-skinned girls with white teeth beneath their +sensuous lips; very like Moors they are, the descendants of some +Saracen pirate who ravaged the Ligurian shore. + +The town is flooded with joyous light. Everybody is in his Sunday +dress. Upon the fever-haunted strand, whither a whole people flocks to +pray to the Saintes Maries for bodily health, that joyous sun is +dangerous. The whole scene has the appearance of a hospital ball, a +fete given by dying men. The devil wields the baton, it may be. One +would think it, to see the faces of the gipsies, whose expression, +notwithstanding certain cunning leers, is and remains undecipherable. + +In the church with the black, dirt-begrimed walls, filled with a fetid +odor by such an accumulation of misery, diseased flesh, and perspiring +humanity, the people crowd about the iron balustrade of the little +well, as if it were the Fountain of Youth. The poor, green, +dilapidated pitcher humbly descends at the end of its cord to bring up +from the sand below brackish water that to-day seems sweet. + +Keep faith with them, O saints!--Faith gives what one wishes. + +They are waiting for four o'clock, the hour at which the relics +descend. + +At four o'clock precisely, the shutter of the high window up yonder, +under the ogive arch of the nave, will open. The relics will come down +toward the outstretched arms. The little children will be lifted up +toward them. The dead arms of the paralytics will be raised toward +them. The blind will turn toward them their sightless eyes, or their +empty, blood-stained orbits. + +Meanwhile, Livette, who is standing there in the centre of the crowd, +directly in front of the altar, facing the grated door through which +you go down into the crypt, is preparing to sing the solo of +invocation. Her fresh, pure voice is to be the voice of all these +wretched creatures, crushed under the weight of impurity and disease. + +Just below the high altar, which is studded with tapers, the gipsies +are huddled together in their crypt, with tapers in their hands, +invoking Saint Sara. The vault is dark. The gipsies are black. The +little glass shrine of Saint Sara has become black under the +accumulated filth of years. From the centre of the church you can see +through the grated opening, which resembles an air-hole of hell, the +innumerable twinkling lights of the tapers below, waving to and fro in +the hands that hold them. A muffled sound of praying comes up through +the opening. + +In the church, every hand now has its taper, and they are rapidly +lighted one from another. The lights dance about in the air. But the +interior of the nave is dark. The high walls, pierced by narrow +windows, are grimy with age. And all this obscurity, where suffering +and misery crawl and cower, is studded with stars like heaven. To the +gipsies in the crypt, who will not see the blessed relics descend, the +body of the church, which they can see from below through the +air-hole, is a heaven beyond their reach, the world of the elect. + +But the elect, alas! are damned. Their heaven is the chapel up yonder, +in which the power they invoke lies sleeping, beneath the stained wood +of the boxes, like to a double coffin--the power that may remain deaf, +the all-powerful power that will never perhaps awaken for any one, the +marvellous power upon which cures depend and which withholds +happiness! + +Such was the interior of the three-storied church of Saintes-Maries on +that day. And above the lofty chapel, there was the bell-tower +overlooking the whole country-side. Surrounded by endless numbers of +swallows and sea-gulls, for centuries past it has looked upon the +glistening desert, the dazzling sea, the dumb infinitude of space, +which could explain things if it would, but only beams and laughs. + +The hour drew near. The crowd was panting with heat and hope and fear. + +Renaud was not there. + +"Remember--we promised to burn three tapers each before the relics," +Livette had said to him. + +"I will come to-night," was his reply. "There's the branding to-day. +I have to look after my bulls." + +So Livette was a little distraught. She was thinking of joining +Renaud, of being present at the branding, of keeping an eye on her +betrothed. Where was he? + +But Monsieur le cure made a sign: Livette began to sing. Alas! why was +not her lover there? Her voice, which she knew was pleasant to the +ear, might have some effect on him. How eagerly he listened to the +gipsy's singing the other day!--Livette sang, and the buzzing of +prayers and litanies and invocations of all sorts, that every one was +indulging in on his or her own account, subsided as her clear, pure +voice arose. O God! what is this humanity of ours? It is vile and +abject, but it has some sense of shame. The basest know how to pray +that they may be cured of their baseness. And, however much they may +have rolled in the mire of their natural inclinations, a time comes +when they set the flame alight, when they burn incense, and when all +keep silent to listen to the voice ascending to Heaven, imploring for +them a grace that no one knows, that perhaps does not exist, but that +every one imagines and desires! + +"Eat your excrement, dog!" say the gipsies; "what care I? There is a +light in the dog's eye that is not often seen in the eyes of kings." + +Livette sang. The cure said to himself: + +"O my God, mayhap this child of Thine will obtain favor in Thy sight!" + +Livette's voice was as fresh as the water of salvation for which the +assembled multitude thirsted. And how intently they listened! But, at +the end of each stanza, weary of restraining their tumultuous +ejaculations of hope, they sent up from thousands of throats an +inarticulate roar in which only the two words: _Saintes Maries!_ could +be distinguished. + +Livette sang: + + "Quand vous etiez sur la grande eau, + Sans rames a votre bateau, + Saintes Maries! + Rien que la mer, rien que les cieux---- + Vous appeliez de tous vos yeux + La douceur des plages fleuries."[9] + +"_Saintes Maries!_" roared the people; uttered at the same moment by a +thousand voices acting upon a common impulse, the frenzied appeal was +like an explosion. + +Every one shouted with all his strength, for the saints must be made +to hear! Every one shouted with all his lungs, with all his heart, +with all his body, one might say. Heaven is so far away! Open-mouthed, +their faces twitching convulsively, they gazed upward. The veins in +their necks were swollen to the bursting-point. The muscles swelled +and thickened in faces to which the blood rushed in torrents. The +brothers, lovers, husbands, mothers, fathers, of the sufferers, +availed themselves of their own strength to call for help, howling +like wounded wild beasts turned toward the dawn. All this suffering +multitude, all this swarming heap of tainted, diseased flesh, uttered +the terrifying roar of a monster in pain--and still the +preternaturally shrill shriek of some doting mother would soar above +the horrid uproar. And all around the church, filled with the nameless +appeals of these damned of earth, lay the calm, silent desert, the +blue, foam-flecked sea, the brilliant sunlight, insensible to +everything. + + "Sous le soleil, sous les etoiles, + De vos robes faisant des voiles + (Vogue, bateau!) + Sept jours, sept nuits vous naviguates, + Sans voir ni trois-ponts ni fregates---- + Rien que la mer et la grande eau!"[10] + +"_Saintes Maries!_" roared the people, and each time the shout burst +forth from thousands of throats, suddenly and at the same instant, +with the effect of a strange kind of explosion. + + "Dieu qui fait son fouet d'un eclair, + Pour fouetter le ciel et la mer, + Saintes Maries! + Amena la barque a bon port---- + Un ange, qui parut a bord, + Vous montra des plages fleuries!"[11] + +"_Saintes Maries!_" the people roared again. And the appealing cry, +made up of so many cries, burst forth with a sound like that made by a +great wave that breaks against a cliff and is instantly scattered +about in foam! And again the young girl's voice arose above all the +vociferating, grinning creatures. Might not one fancy that he saw a +sea-swallow, white as the dove of the Ark, soaring over a bottomless +abyss? + + "Vous pour qui Dieu fit ce miracle, + Voyez, devant son tabernacle, + Tous a genoux, + Souilles du peche de naissance, + Nous invoquons votre puissance,---- + Saintes femmes, protegez-nous!"[12] + +And for the last time, the deafening, harsh cry arose: + +"_Saintes Maries!_" + +Oh! the thousand, two thousand ejaculations of insane longing that +flew upward, at a single flight, flapping all their wings at once, to +fall back, dead, upon themselves. + +It is very certain that there was in that frenzied appeal all the +madness of suffering, all the wrath of unsatisfied longing, and rage +as of unchained beasts, against the very beings they implored. + +Meanwhile, the double shutter up above had not yet been thrown open. +And Livette, in accordance with the cure's instructions, was to repeat +the last verse. + +So she began again: + + "Vous pour qui Dieu fit ce miracle----" + +But these first words had hardly passed her lips when her voice +faltered and died away. For a few seconds there was a silence as of +utter amazement in the church. Of what was Livette thinking? Of +what?--For the last minute, just God! her eyes had been obstinately +fixed upon the black opening leading to the crypt. In that opening, on +a level with the floor of the church, she had seen a head: it was the +gipsy queen, who had come up from the crypt, in mischievous mood, +curious to see Livette singing. Immediately below the great altar she +emerged from the dark depths of the cellar amid the ascending smoke of +the tapers. She came from her kingdom below, and with her copper crown +and gleaming ear-rings, her swarthy skin and her fiery black eyes, she +seemed to Livette a genuine devil from hell. + +Zinzara ascended two steps more and her bust appeared. She darted a +keen, penetrating glance at Livette. That is why Livette was confused, +and why she called with all her strength upon the women of compassion, +the holy women above, for help against this woman from the chapel +below. + +But the shutters that concealed the shrines were opened at last. And +slowly, very slowly, they descended, swinging from side to side, with +a slight jerky movement, at the ends of the two ropes, embellished +here and there with little bunches of flowers. + +Is not this the image of every life? Is there aught else in the world? +Something descends from heaven, something ascends from hell; and we +suffer with hope and fear. + +"_Saintes Maries!_" + +Amid the vociferations of the crowd, Livette lost her head, she +forgot to sing, and, carried away by the prevailing excitement, hope, +and terror, she began to cry aloud with all the rest, like a lost +soul, while Zinzara, from below, continued to gaze fixedly at her. + +What would you say, Monsieur le cure, to Livette's thoughts, +who,--poor creature of the world we live in!--between the holy women +and the woman devil, no longer knew which way to turn? Had she not +reason to tremble? For the shrines descend to no purpose, they bring +us naught but dead relics--while the sorceress is a creature of flesh +and blood, whose feet walk, whose eyes see! + +Far away from us, in the land of dreams, of supernatural hopes, above +the sky and the stars, are the sainted souls that have pity for +mankind; as far from man as Paradise itself are the chaste women who +embalm the crucified ones in herbs and spices, while _she_ is close at +hand, always ready, always armed against the repose of Christian +souls, she, queen of diabolic love, who, seeking only to gratify her +caprice, makes sport of everything! + +Livette became more and more confused beneath Zinzara's steadfast +glance, and she tried in vain, after silence had at last been +restored, to resume the invocation. She faltered and stopped again. + +Thereupon there was great confusion among the waiting multitude. All +those men and women who were holding their peace in order to listen +to the outpouring of their own souls in the maiden's voice, to the +pure, unspoken prayer which was in their hearts, but which they could +not put in words, had been thrown back once more, and more +despairingly than ever, upon themselves, upon their own helplessness, +when Livette's voice died away. Just at the decisive moment, their +interpreter failed them! They were afraid of their profound silence, +so contrary to the impulses of their hearts. In order to be heard on +high, their prayer must be offered; and, seized by the same thought, +every one began to shout or sing on his own account, some beginning +again at the very beginning, others taking the stanza they knew by +heart or had before them in a book, others repeating at random bits of +the litanies, one the _credo_, another the _pater_, and never did +prayers offered up to God create such a hellish uproar, since the +discordant cries of all the sorrows of mankind ascended to Heaven. + +Stronger women than Livette would have been disturbed as she was, +would have felt their powers failing. She put her hand to her forehead +to detain her mind that seemed to be making its escape. Was not she +the cause of all this trouble? What would become of her, in this +state? She was afraid and ashamed at once. + +Instead of looking up, instead of watching the blessed relics that had +now accomplished half of their descent, she could not refrain from +returning the fixed stare of the gipsy woman below, whose eyes seemed +to pierce her soul. + +Livette suffered keenly. The gipsy's gaze entered into her very being, +and she felt that she could do nothing. It seemed to her as if a +sharp-toothed beast were gnawing at her heart. Instead of praying, she +listened to the terrible thoughts within her. She fancied that she +could feel the hatred go out from her with the glances that shot from +her eyes! She tried to stab to the heart with it that creature who was +defying her down there. Would not somebody kill the witch, who was the +cause of everything? Ah! Saintes Maries! what thoughts for such a +place! at such a time! + +The relics slowly descended, and, amid the roars that greeted them, +Livette, in her overwrought imagination, fancied that she saw herself +clinging to Renaud, beseeching him to be faithful and kind to her, and +not to go to that other woman; and when he refused and left her, she +leaped at the gipsy's face and scratched her and clawed at her like a +cat. + +Thus the sorceress's soul passed into Livette. Already, without +suspecting it, she had begun to resemble her enemy, the gitana who +leaped at the nostrils of Renaud's horse the other day. And yet this +little fair-haired girl was not one of the dark-skinned maidens of +Arles, who have African and Asian blood in their veins! No matter; +she, too, has a wild beast's fits of passion. Love and jealousy are at +work making a woman's soul. + +The relics were still descending; and Livette feverishly told off +_paters_ and _aves_ on her rosary.--Patience! on the day after the +fete, the gipsies, she knows, will leave the town! Two more days and +her agony will be at an end. + +Meanwhile--she makes this vow in presence of the relics--she will not +gratify Renaud by showing that she is jealous, as she is, and not +until later--when Zinzara is far away, and there is no chance of her +coming back--will she, perhaps, tell her promised husband that he lied +to her, that he is a traitor, because, instead of avenging her upon +the gipsy, he was false to his fiancee with her--for of course he is +false to her, as he is not there!--She will tell him, then, not in a +passion, but to punish him. It will be no more than justice. + +By dint of uncoiling themselves by little jerks, the ropes have +lowered the relics almost within reach of the hands stretched up to +meet them. Thereupon the rabble of poor devils could contain itself no +longer. Every one was determined to be the first to touch them. Those +who were already in the choir, directly below the hanging relics, lost +their footing, crowded as they were by those who were pressing in from +the body of the church, jostling and crushing one another with a +constant pressure. Livette was borne along on the wave, seeing +nothing, and with but one thought in her mind--to touch the +consecrated relics herself!--That she felt she must do, so that she +might escape the influence of the glance the black woman had cast at +her. She would seek to turn aside the fatal spell that had been upon +her ever since her first meeting with the sorceress! But would she +reach the shrines?--Livette felt that she was seized by two strong +arms. She turned: it was Renaud! He had just entered the church with +two other drovers, his friends. These three young men, glowing with +the outside sunlight, healthy and strong, amid the lame and halt and +blind, had the insolent bearing--cruel without meaning to be--of manly +beauty, of life itself. They extricated the girl and made a ring about +her. She was able to breathe. + +"Would you like to touch the relics, demoisellette?" + +Forcing their way before her, without great effort, but pitilessly, +through the crowd of cripples, they cleared a passage for her. Livette +walked quickly, she drew near the spot, and Renaud, seizing her around +the waist, lifted her up like a child so that she touched the +consecrated relics first of all! + +Still with the three youths as a body-guard, before whom all were fain +to stand aside, and without further thought--poor you! it is the law +of the world--of the innumerable, nameless perils by which she was +encompassed, she left the church content. Peace had found its way into +her heart once more. Her Renaud was there by her side. Was all that +she had dreaded a dream and nothing more? + +"Ah! it is good to be outside!" he said, filling his lungs with the +fresh air. + +"Yes, but when will you light the tapers, Renaud, that you are to burn +in the church as I promised for you?" + +"Oh! I have a whole day before me," he replied. "Now let us go to the +races." + + + + +XIX + +THE BRANDING + + +The relics having descended, the majority of those present left the +dark church and returned to the dazzling outside world. + +As the crowd poured out through the narrow side-doors, another crowd +was forcing its way in through the main entrance, making but slow +progress,--two or three steps in a quarter of an hour,--all hot and +perspiring, in a cloud of luminous dust. + +Many young men were there, for the pleasure of being pressed by the +crowd against the pretty girls, their sweethearts, whose sinuous +bodies they could feel against their own, and who could not escape +them there. How many hands and waists were squeezed which the mothers +could not see! + +And in undertones they said: + +"I love you, Lionnette." + +"Fie, Francois!" + +"Let me go, Tiennet!----" + +Thus, beside the infirm and incurable, who know naught of the good +things of life, love saucily sports and laughs, feels its own force, +and seeks return. The incense in the church serves only to inflame its +desire, and more than one youth offers his beloved a rosary, whose +boxwood cross he has ardently kissed before her eyes, so that she may +find the kiss with her lips. + +All day long, the pilgrims and invalids enter the church. Many will +pass the night there, keeping vigil with the tapers, on their knees or +prostrate before the relics; and more than one, each in his turn, will +lie down upon them, on cushions brought expressly for the purpose. + +For the moment--it is the first day of the fete--nothing is talked +about in the streets of the town save the bulls and the sports. + +"Are you going to the races?" + +"Yes." + +"Does Prince run? He's the best horse in all the droves." + +"No, he won't run; Renaud, who usually handles him, told me that he +was too tired." + +"Pshaw! what a pity!" + +"What about the bulls? Shall we have any that are a bit ugly?" + +"There's _Sirous_ and _Dogue_ and _Machicoulis_. I cut them out myself +with Bernard and Renaud. They gave us a lot of trouble! They refused +to leave the herd. As soon as we got them out, back they would go +again. But we set _Martin_ and _Commetoi_ at them, two bull-dogs that +can't be matched anywhere; and even _Machicoulis_ obeyed at last!" + +"_Martin_ and _Commetoi_?--Those are curious names for dogs!" + +"It's a joke. When any one asks: 'How is your dog called?'[13] The +dog's master replies: '_Commetoi!_' [Like yourself.] The other man +gets angry, and it raises a laugh." + +"And what about the full-blooded Spanish bull, with the horns twisted +like a lyre; shall we see him?" + +"_Angel Pastor?_ He is sick. I like our straight-horned bulls better. +The important thing is that the horns should be far enough apart for a +man's body to go between them." + +"Are there any heifers?" + +"One, a wicked one--_Serpentine_." + +"And _bioulets_?" + +"Young bulls, do you mean? Renaud has kept six of them, expressly to +give the strangers a chance to see a branding." + +"When will the branding come off?" + +"In a moment. Suppose we go to see it." + +The gipsy was present at the branding. + +The arena was against the church, at the end opposite the main +entrance. + +The many-sided irregular enclosure was formed on one side by the high +wall of the church; on another, by a house standing by itself, against +which was a series of roughly made benches, one above another; on +still another side by three or four small houses, each of whose +windows formed a frame for a dozen or more heads of young men and +women, crowded together and all laughing gaily. At the base of one of +these houses was a cafe with a glass door opening on the arena and +barricaded by tables and overturned chairs. On each side of the door +was drawn, in deepest black, a silhouette of a bull of the Camargue +type, that is to say, with straight horns of ample proportions. + +On all sides of the enclosure where there were no stone walls, their +place was supplied by wagons bound firmly together by their shafts. + +At the corner of the wall of the church, there were three great iron +rings one above another, and through them were thrust three wooden +bars, which could be moved back and forth at will. + +These bars were to be let down for the young bulls which were to be +turned out of the arena, one by one, after they had been branded, to +find their way alone to the desert. Outside the bars, a system of +barricades closed the streets of the town to them, and--by compelling +them to go behind the few houses facing the arena--guided them, +whether they would or not, to the margin of the open plain in less +than a hundred steps. + +Zinzara was present, as we have said, standing in a wagon. She +followed with impassive glance all the happenings within the arena, +grotesque and heroic alike. + +These duels between man and beast are grand or disgusting according +to the character of the adversaries. It sometimes happens that the man +attacks in a cowardly fashion, or that the beast, from astonishment it +may be, or fatigue, turns about and tries to return to the stable. +Fine contests are rare. + +Sometimes a sharp stone is thrown from a safe distance by a disloyal +foe. The surprised beast receives it full in the face; the blood flows +in long streams from his nostrils to the ground. He looks straight +before him, his great eyes filled with mirage, and does not budge, as +if he were at once saddened and contemptuous. + +Sometimes a mischievous rascal has the happy thought of coming very +close to him and throwing sand in his eyes by the handful. Another, +more mischievous than he, covers the bull with filth collected from +the gutter! But the sand-thrower, being spattered thereby, himself +picks up a handful, and the two heroes engage in a fierce battle with +dung picked up smoking from the ground under the bull's very tail, +amid the laughter and applause of a whole population, until the +champions, reeking with filth, are abruptly separated by the bull, who +bestirs himself at last and charges them. + +"This way! this way, Livette!" + +Livette had just come into the arena. Her young friends called her and +gladly moved closer together to make room for her on the benches. + +A stable just beside the cafe had been transformed into a _toril_. +Just above the door of the stable was the long window of the hay-loft, +level with the floor. Two herdsmen, sitting in the window with their +legs hanging outside, rose from time to time, and could be seen +pricking the _dondaire_, the beloved leader of the herd, through the +holes in the floor above the hay-racks. The _dondaire_ would thereupon +go out and lead the tired bull back to the stable. Every time that a +new beast left the _toril_, or one that was tired out returned, a +dexterous hand swiftly closed the door. + +All these things, which were probably by no means new to the gipsy, +who was doubtless familiar with the tragic entertainments of Madrid +and Seville, left her unmoved. Her eye did not kindle; it was as dull +and vague as a heifer's. + +The "amateurs" played with a few bulls. They were not ill-tempered. +Somebody seized one of them by the tail. A whole party clung to his +skirts, dancing the farandole--but were soon scattered. The +performance thus far was not inspiriting, but it was amusing. + +Behind the glass door of the cafe, which opened on the arena, some +congenial spirits were emptying a bottle and smoking while they +enjoyed the spectacle. The door was barricaded by a rampart of +overturned tables, with their legs in the air and passed through a +net-work of broken chairs. + +Suddenly the bull, overturning tables and chairs, put the drinkers to +flight: he had thrust his bulky head through a square of glass. The +cafe rang with shouts of alarm mingled with amusement. The wagons in +the arena shook with the joyous stamping of their occupants; the +planks were torn off by excited hands; the people at the windows of +the little houses rattled the shutters noisily in their delight. To +see the crowds on the roofs laugh made one fear that they would fall +in. Thus was the frolicsome bull applauded. The gipsy alone did not +smile. + +A great oat-bin stood in a corner of the arena, placed there purposely +perhaps. A very old man,--not too old to play the merry-andrew,--armed +with an old red umbrella, raised the lid, climbed into the bin, and +opened his umbrella, which was of the most brilliant shade of red. The +bull rushed at him--the old man let the lid fall. Bin and umbrella +closed at the same moment upon the laughing bald head. The hilarity of +the public was at its height. The gipsy did not seem amused by the old +man's drollery.--Nor did she laugh when a manikin was set up in the +centre of the arena and the bull carried him off on his horns and +hurled him into the midst of the spectators; and she did not even +smile when, a window on the ground-floor of one of the houses being +thrown open, a little child was seen in his mother's arms, behind the +iron bars, teasing the furious animal. Laughing with glee, he held a +plaything out through the bars, a little pasteboard windmill, whose +pink and blue wings were made to turn by the monster's breath. + +Then came a tragic episode. A man--an _amateur_--struck by the sharp +horns; his thigh pierced from side to side; the first cowardly +movement of flight on the part of the other contestants; the return of +the valiant fellows, who diverted the bull's attention and drew him +off while the wounded man was removed, accompanied by the piercing +shrieks of his wife and daughter. + +At last, the serious business of the day began. It was announced that +the branding was about to take place. Immediately thereafter would +come the game of the "cockades," which consists in snatching a cockade +suspended between the bull's horns by a thread. With his hand or with +a hooked stick the rider breaks the thread, snatches the +cockade--_Crac!_ a quick recovery, and the victor has won the scarf! + +The branding is hard work turned into a game; it consists in branding +young bulls with a red-hot iron, with their owner's cipher. + +A young bull having been turned into the arena, Renaud walked up to +him, and, as the beast made a rush, cleverly avoided him by turning +upon his heel. The bull having, thereupon, stopped short, Renaud +seized him by the horns. + +Clinging to him with his hands, closed like knots of steel about the +horns, the man was dragged for a moment, standing, over the ground, in +which his thick soles dug ribbon-like furrows. The spectators clapped +their hands. The bull lowered his head and stood still. Renaud, with +his legs apart and bent a little, and his feet firmly planted in the +ground, threw all his weight to the left. All the muscles of his chest +and arms stood out beneath his shirt, which was glued to his skin by +perspiration. The bull, with all his sluggish strength, tried to throw +himself in the opposite direction. Suddenly Renaud gave way, and the +bull, losing the support of his resistance, fell heavily before a +sudden contrary effort. And there he lay at full length on the ground, +gasping for breath. + +The man, who had not released his hold, forced his head to the ground +by sitting on it. + +"Bravo, king! bravo, king!" cried the crowd. + +Bernard took the red-hot iron from a brazier and carried it to Renaud, +who, thereupon, let go one horn, and kneeling heavily upon the beast's +withers, seized the iron with his right hand and pressed it against +his shoulder. The hair and flesh smoked and crackled. Renaud rose +quickly, and the bull, springing suddenly to his feet, shook himself +all over, lashed his sides with his tail, bellowed with anger, pawed +the ground with his foot, and, amid the shouts of the crowd, darted +through the barrier, which was opened at that moment. A moment later, +he could be seen far away on the plain, galloping at full speed. He +soon rejoined the drove which he or any of his fellows can readily +find for themselves, even if it be on the other side of the Rhone, +which they often swim. + +Six bulls, one after another, were thus thrown down by Renaud. + +The sport enlivened him, he was intoxicated by the consciousness of +his great strength. Excited even more by the applause of the people, +he trembled from head to foot. From time to time, he wiped the great +beads of perspiration from his forehead with the back of his hand. + +A sunbeam fell across one side of the arena, which lay in the dark +shadow of the high church-wall. Renaud ran thither, hatless, in +shirt-sleeves and close-fitting red breechcloth, shaking the short +curly locks of his thick, jet-black hair. + +The girls applauded, I promise you, more loudly than the young men, +who were somewhat jealous. Zinzara's eye--her wagon was standing in +the ray of sunlight--kindled at last.--And Livette, blushing deeply, +was proud of her king. + +When the sixth bull he had thrown was still under his knee, Renaud +made a sign to Bernard. Bernard ran to him, knelt beside him, and +seized the bull by the horns in his stead. Another drover came to help +Bernard hold the beast, and Renaud rose. + +He walked across the arena, and when he came to where Livette sat, +beckoned to her. Everybody understood and applauded. + +She walked forward to the edge of the platform on which the benches +were built, and lightly placed her foot on the strong cross-bar that +served as a support to the spectators in the front row; from there she +jumped confidently into Renaud's arms, who caught her about the waist +and set her down as if she had been a little child. + +He took her hand and led her toward the bull. + +If Renaud had looked at Zinzara at that moment, he would have +surprised in her eyes a gleam which she did her best to hide behind +her half-closed lids. The smile vanished from her mocking lips. + +But Livette and Renaud, the pair of comely lovers, were thinking of +naught but the fete, of themselves, of this strange betrothal at which +all their people were present, and the like of which not even princes +could give, for it required rare strength and address on the part of +the fiance. It was, in very truth, the triumph of a manly king. + +"Bravo, king! bravo, queen!" + +As they passed the brazier in the centre of the arena, he stooped +quickly, and seized with his free hand--without stopping or releasing +Livette's hand--the red-hot iron, which he handed to her as soon as +they were beside the bull. She took it, and, leaning forward, branded +the bull on the shoulder, and when they saw the flesh smoking under +the iron she held in her strong little hand, when the bull began to +quiver with wrath, the enthusiasm of the people burst forth. Hats and +hands and scarfs were waved in the air. + +"Bravo, king! bravo, queen!" + +And Renaud, envied by all, escorted the maiden back to her place, +while the bull, set free, rushed from the arena in his turn and out +upon the plain. No, Zinzara no longer laughed. + +The game of the "cockades" was next on the programme. + +The first two or three were easily carried off--one from the head of +Angel Pastor himself, the Spanish bull--by the young men of +Saintes-Maries, and it had not occurred to Renaud to take part in the +sport. + +At last, Serpentine, a nervous little heifer, was let loose in the +arena. Every one realized instantly that she was in a bad temper and +would defend herself. + +Several tried their fortune against her, but, just as they put out +their hand to the cockade, Serpentine would turn about so quickly, and +with such agility for a heifer, that they fled. Ah! the hussy! Zinzara +suddenly became interested in the game. Renaud had gone down into the +arena. + +"The king! the king! bravo! king!" shouted the crowd. + +And Renaud performed prodigies of skill. + +Three times he placed his foot upon Serpentine's lowered head, and +allowed himself to be hurled into space, to fall again upon his +elastic legs. And as soon as he reached the ground the third time, he +turned like a flash, ran straight to the heifer, snatched away the +cockade,--avoiding the blow she aimed at him with her horns in her +rage,--and was calmly walking away, when the agile creature returned +to the charge. + +Renaud ran, as chance guided him, closely pursued by the beast, and +when he had leaped upon the nearest wagon, he found himself beside the +gipsy, whom he had instinctively seized around the waist. + +The heifer had already turned her attention to some of the other +contestants, and very fortunately, too,--for the gipsy, who was +standing on the edge of her wagon, leaning against the insecure +boarding, lost her balance, and leaped down, perforce, into the arena, +carrying Renaud with her. + +Livette turned pale as death. + +The heifer came galloping back at full speed toward Renaud and +Zinzara, the latter of whom, being entangled in the folds of her +ragged finery, thought that she was lost.--Boldly she turned and faced +the danger, too proud to fly, at least when to fly would be useless. +But Renaud had already stepped in front of her to protect her, and, +seized with some insane idea or other,--the bravado of a +horse-breaker, or of a lover, if you choose,--instead of entering into +a contest with the heifer, instead of seizing her by the horns or the +legs, stopped, and, without taking his eyes from the beast's face, +quickly knelt upon one knee, squatted upon his heel, folded his arms, +and, with his head thrown back, defied her. Like an experienced +"trapper," he counted upon the beast's astonishment, and she did, in +fact, stop short, and scrutinize him suspiciously. The gipsy, her lips +pressed tightly together, having regained her place upon the wagon, +looked back and saw her protector still in that singularly foolhardy +attitude. As may be imagined, everybody was shouting: "Vive Renaud!" +It seemed as if they would never weary of it. + +When he rose, he was again charged by Serpentine, and had barely time +to regain his place of refuge beside the gitana; and the furious beast +attacked the flooring of the wagon just at their feet with such a +fierce blow of her powerfully armed head, that it was caught there for +a moment by the horns, so that Renaud had to force them out by +stamping upon them with the heel of his iron-shod boot. + +Then the gipsy smiled, and, bending over toward the drover's ear, +whispered a word or two that made the handsome horse-breaker smile +with her. + +Livette--who was a long distance away, at the other end of the arena, +but almost opposite them, and so placed that she could see them in the +bright light--had not lost a single gesture, not a single glance. + +What jealousy does not see, it divines, and that is not surprising, +for it sees what does not exist. + + + + +XX + +THE SNARE + + +The relics were exposed twenty-four hours in the church. + +The second day, they reascended to their chapel, amid the howling of +the same poor wretches whose hopes they carried with them. + +At the moment when the relics take their departure, the spectacle +becomes terrifying. What! all is over! what! they leave us in our +misery, our woes sharpened by the disappointment! And it is all over! +over, for a whole year! And yet the power that can heal is here, shut +up in this box, so near us! among us! They rush at the shrines and +cling to them!--Nails are broken and bleeding against the iron-bound +corners!--And the inexorable capstan up above turns and turns, tearing +from the writhing crowd at the bottom of the well the strange coffin, +that goes up, up, at the end of the straining ropes. Standing on +tiptoe, jostling, overturning, crushing one another without pity, the +poor devils struggle for the last touch--the last, supreme touch that +may, perhaps, because it is the last, secure the coveted grace.--And +all in vain. Amid the sobbing prayers, the mysterious closed vessel +goes up toward the lofty chapel, carrying the water of salvation of +which so many feverish lips long to drink. And when the shrines pass +out of sight, near the arch, behind the lowered shutters,--then +veritable shrieks of agony go up from the frenzied crowd who cannot +endure the death of hope. + +Then the uproar becomes truly frightful; then selfishness breaks +forth unbridled, each one uttering for his own behoof the bestial cry +that should bring down on him alone the saints' compassion; then the +lamentation is wild, the supplication horrible to hear, the prayers +are prayers of rage! And in this deep moat, whose walls tremble with +the noise, there is a great uproar as of unclean beasts, thirsting +for their God as for a physical blessing, as for a vainly awaited +promised land! And, nailed against one of the bare walls of the +fortress-church, a great crucifix, with open arms and upturned face, +above all those distorted faces, all those raised and writhing arms, +seems to mingle with the fierce lamentations of the human brutes its +divine but no less fruitless and much more despairing cry! + +And yet, it is almost always at the last moment, at the precise second +when the shrines disappear, that the miracle takes place, and a +paralytic walks or a blind girl sees. One cries out: "Miracle!" + +Lucky girl! She is surrounded, almost suffocated. + +"Can you see?"--"I did see."--"Can you see +now?"--"Wait--yes!"--"What?"--"A bright red lily! a flash! an +angel!"--"Miracle! miracle!" + +A man, a villager, immediately takes the child in his arms. Ah! he has +seen miracles before! See how he hurries to take the child away on his +shoulders, on the shield! He carries her thus so that all may see the +miraculously-cured; so that no one shall forget that genuine miracles +are done at Saintes-Maries, and come again! And the crowd follows, +giving thanks. They hurry to the parsonage; the miracle is recorded in +the presence of several assembled priests. + +"Did you see?"--"Yes, I saw!" + +And the procession moves on. + +Ah! Christophore, the old pirate!--How he hurries along, with his lie +on his shoulders!--He is a poor inhabitant of Saintes-Maries to whom +the presence of so many strangers every year brings in something, as +it does to all the rest, and he trots joyously off with his living +decoy. + +The next day, the child of the miracle is found alone at the foot of +the Calvary, on the beach, left there for a moment by the woman or +child who acts as her guide. + +"Well, can you see?"--"No."--"What about the miracle, then?" + +Poor child! In her plaintive voice, she replies: "It has gone +again!"--"But you did see, yesterday?"--"Yes."--"If you could see, why +did they carry you?"--"Oh! monsieur, I couldn't see anything but +flowers, bright red lilies; but as to walking--oh! no, I couldn't see +to do that! And now it is all dark. I can't see anything at all any +more; yes, the miracle--has gone away!" + +As soon as the relics had disappeared, everybody left the church in +procession, to go to bless the sea--the sea that bore the saints to +Camargue--the sea whereon the brave fishermen risk their lives every +day. + +The cure walked at the head of the procession. He held a relic in his +hand; it was the Silver Arm, a hollow object in which some relics of +the saints can be seen through a little square of glass. + +The crowd followed in order. There were hundreds, yes, thousands of +them. Great numbers of pilgrims, sitting on the dunes, watched the +procession winding its way along the sandy beach where a few +flat-boats lay high and dry. + +Behind Monsieur le cure, six men bore on their shoulders a carved and +painted wooden image, of considerable size, representing the two +saints in the boat. There was so much jostling, by so many of the +crowd, to secure the honor of replacing the bearers, that the boat +pitched and rolled on their shoulders as if it were at sea in a high +wind. + +Saint Sara, the black saint, came next, borne by dark-haired, +swarthy-faced gipsies, with eyes that glistened like jet. Their little +ones meanwhile glided through the crowd like rats, creeping between +people's legs and stealing handkerchiefs and purses. + +And in the wake of the saints came young men and maidens, carrying +lilies, sweet-smelling lilies, collected in sheaves every year for the +procession of the faithful. + +Others held tapers whose light could not be detected in the bright +sunlight, but the lilies filled the air with perfume. These lilies +were Livette's delight. + +Monsieur le cure reached the water's edge. He held out the Silver Arm. +Thereupon, the sea, for an instant, recoiled--only a little. The poor +fishermen's wives quickly crossed themselves. + +And all those who were standing on the dunes, watching the procession +pass, saw the bearers marching at the head loom taller and taller at +every step by reason of the mirage. And the saints on the bearers' +shoulders gradually increased in size with them, and seemed to rise +heavenward, of prodigious size, as in a vision. + +"Protect us, great saints! May the sea be kind to us of Saintes-Maries +this year!" + +Poor people, poor souls! Wait till next year. + +Every year it is the same thing. All this returns and will return, +like the seasons. + +On the day following that on which the relics returned to their +retreat, the majority of the pilgrims left the village. All the camps +were struck at almost the same hour. + +The carriages of all sorts, the cabriolets, dog-carts, +_chars-a-bancs_, _jardinieres_, break-necks, the rich farmers' breaks, +and the peasants' wagons, covered with canvas stretched over hoops, +carried away seven, eight, ten thousand travellers of all ages, sick +or well, and the long line crawled like a serpent over the flat road +between two deserts. Here and there, at the left of the line, mounted +men, many of whom carried a girl _en croupe_, rode back and forth, +looking for one another, now waiting, now riding on at a gallop to +take the lead of the caravan. + +This departure of the pilgrims was another spectacle for the good +people of Saintes-Maries, who stood around in noisy groups on the +outskirts of the village, waving a last adieu to the guests whose +presence they had taken advantage of to the utmost. + +Those who had been compelled to give shelter to friends and had +consequently been unable to put so high a price on their hospitality, +good-humoredly repeated the amusing sentiment, that certainly smacks +less of Arabia than do the horses of the district: _Friends who come +to visit us always afford us pleasure; if not when they arrive, at all +events when they depart._ + +On the second day following that on which the gipsy had smiled upon +the drover, when the party of zingari passed in their place at the +tail of the procession, some mounted on sorry nags, others jolting +about in their wretched wagons,--some of the women on foot, the +better to beg, carrying their children slung bandoleer-wise over their +backs,--it was observed that the queen's wagon was not among them. + +Zinzara had remained at Saintes-Maries. + +She proposed to give herself the pleasure of administering a rebuff to +the drover, with whom she had made an assignation for that very +evening. + +This is what had taken place. + +During the branding, Renaud had whispered in Zinzara's ear: + +"Ah! now I have you, gipsy! what a pity that it is before all these +people!" + +"On my word, I have the same thought _at this moment_," she replied, +deeply touched by the grand presence of mind he had just shown in +defending her. + +"All right," he said, "I'll come and speak to you very soon. These are +lovely nights." + +"No, to-morrow," said she, "to-morrow, do you understand? after the +wagons have gone." + +But at the close of the performance, when he saw Livette coming toward +him with pale cheeks, so pale that she looked like a corpse, he was +seized with poignant remorse. + +"She saw me," he said to himself, "and she is suffering from +jealousy." + +And so great was his pity for the poor little girl that he felt +capable of sacrificing to her, once for all, at the very moment when +it had become more difficult than ever, his insane passion for the +other. All the chaste affection he had felt for Livette from the very +first, so different from passion and so pleasant to the senses, came +back to him like the puff of fresh air that awakens one from a bad +dream. + +Furthermore, he was surprised, almost disconcerted, to find that the +gipsy's formal promise did not afford him the pleasure he had expected +when he had dreamed of it in anticipation. + +Livette left him to join her father, who was not to take her back to +the chateau until the evening of the following day, two or three hours +after the departure of the pilgrims, in order to remain until the end +of the fete, and to avoid the thick dust and the enforced slowness of +the long procession. + +And that day--in the afternoon--Renaud fell in with Monsieur le cure. + +"Good-day, drover. What is the matter, my boy? You seem preoccupied." + +"Oh! cure," said Renaud, "sometimes it is difficult to do what is +right!" + +With that he was about to pass on, but the cure seized his arm and +detained him. + +"Eh! cure," said Renaud, "you have still a powerful grasp!" + +"Beware, Renaud," said the cure very slowly, "lest you become a great +sinner. I know what I know. Your betrothed wife is weeping. She is +jealous. Already rumors are in circulation concerning you. And for +whom, just God! would you betray that virtuous girl, who, wealthy as +she is, gives herself to you, a poor orphan? You would ruin a whole +family, poor you! and your honor and the repose of your heart, +forever! The devil is crafty, you are right, and to do right is +difficult, but those whom the devil inspires, when you follow their +momentary caprice and your own fancy, lead you on to abysses deeper +than the _lorons_ of the _paluns_. You are walking at this moment on +the moving crust! If it bursts, adieu, my man! You will be engulfed +body and soul. As for yourself, that is a small matter! but by what +right do you compel the little one to run the risk of your downfall? +You are dealing with an accursed creature, a woman who does not know +herself, who is submissive to nobody, and who cares nothing for the +misfortunes of others. Whatever she does is for her own amusement. I +have seen her and watched her. The saints have taught me many things. +Beware! The little one is brave. Some day there may be innocent blood +on your hands, if you keep on in the road I forbid you to follow, for +the devil is in the affair, I tell you, and all sorts of monsters are +awaiting you at the turning in the evil road. A betrothed lover's +infidelity, like a husband's, lays an egg filled with ghastly +creatures, which sometimes hatches. If you have a heart, show it, +Renaud, take my advice, and go back to your horses and cattle in the +solitude of your plains, where the malignant fever is less to be +feared than the disease you are taking here!" + +Renaud, the tall, strong, dashing blade, listened to these wise words, +hanging his head, poor fellow, like a child scolded for not knowing +his catechism. + +"If you are a man, make up your mind at once, and give me your word as +a true-hearted drover." + +"Take my hand, Monsieur le cure. I give you my word. I was in a fair +way to go wrong. A spell was on me." + +The two men exchanged a grasp of the hand. + +The cure walked away with an anxious heart. He knew that Renaud was +sincere, but he knew the strength of man's passion and his ingenuity +in lying. + +So the cure had been asking questions?--In that case, to consort with +the gipsy was to risk a rupture with Livette. + +Renaud was about to leave the village,--or, if you please, the +town,--with his mind firmly made up to renounce the gitana. Yes, he +would sacrifice her to Livette, to his earnest desire to have a +peaceful, happy home and a family, he, the wandering cowherd, the +orphan, the foundling of the desert. That was happiness;--a roof to +shelter one, a roof whose smoke one can see from afar on the horizon, +thinking: the wife and little ones are there. + +He would renounce the gitana; yes, but he proposed to make known his +resolution to her himself. At the thought of leaving Saintes-Maries +without _seeing her again_, for the purpose of telling her that he +would not _see her again_, a weary feeling came over him; it seemed to +him that he was suddenly shut up in a narrow space, and left there +without air, without horizon.--But he would see her again--he must. It +would be better so. Must he not soothe her anger first of all? She +would be angry enough in any event. Why exasperate her?--In very +truth, if he did see her again, it was--he reached this conclusion +after much thought--it was principally in order to protect poor +Livette against her! Yes, yes, it was for her sake that he would see +her again. See her again! At those words, which he repeated softly to +himself, a joy in living, in moving, in breathing, took possession of +him. + +Meanwhile, Zinzara, for her part, was vowing inwardly that she would +enjoy a hearty laugh at the drover when he should presently seek her +out! + +Why, in that case, had she answered _yes_ to his amorous questions? +Oh! because at the moment when he whispered them in her ear, if she +had been able, upon the spot, to give herself to this savage, all +aglow from his conflict with bulls and heifers, doubtless she would +have done it. He had awakened desire in her, as heat awakens thirst, +as a summer evening awakens longing for a bath.--And then it had given +her pleasure to say to herself that, over at the other end of the +arena, the woman to whom he had paid queenly honor by giving her the +smoking, red-hot iron, like the sceptre of a magician or a wicked +zingaro king,--that that woman was suffering torments. + +But he came too late. The desire had passed away. And the acme of +delight to her now lay in the thought of refusing the promised favor +to the Christian she detested, while giving Livette to believe that he +had been false to her. + +Sitting upon a stone, alone, at some distance from her wagon, she +awaited the drover. Her resolution to take vengeance by refusing was +written upon her compressed lips, whose smile became more malicious +than ever when she saw him riding toward her. + +A few steps away he stopped. As he looked at her, he felt a sudden +rushing of the blood in all his veins, a strange, delicious pressure +at the pit of the stomach. He recognized the characteristic agitation +of love; but he made an effort, and said, in a voice which he felt to +be unsteady: "I expected to be free to-night, but I am not. The master +has sent for me, and I must be far away from here by night-fall. So I +must go at once. Adieu, gipsy!" + +Zinzara understood instantly that he was running away from her, and +why!---- She rose, like the serpent that rises on its tail and hisses +with anger. All her harsh resolutions vanished in a twinkling; and, in +a short, sharp, jerky voice, entirely different from her natural +voice, she said: "I want you, do you hear? No one else shall give you +orders when I have orders for you. What I want done is done. Are you +going to act like a coward, pray--you, who have taken my fancy +because, when you are on your horse, you resemble a zingaro who knows +neither master nor God? Come, go on!" + +Thus, the same motive of passionate hatred,--as pleasant to her taste +as love,--that a moment before induced her determination not to go +with Renaud, now threw her into his arms. And to him the love or +hatred of such a woman, at the moment when she gave herself to him, +was one and the same thing; were there not still her passion, her +animated features, her gleaming eyes, her lips that, as they moved, +disclosed two rows of pearly, sparkling teeth? Was there not her +flexible, ballet-dancer's body, significantly held out toward him to +whom she laid claim? + +A thrill of savage joy shook Renaud from head to foot; and, as his +rider shuddered, as if he had been touched by a cramp-fish, the horse +seemed to experience a similar sensation, and pawed the ground an +instant, between the knees that involuntarily pressed closer to his +sides. + +What was he to do? Ah! blessed saints! His betrothal had kept him +virtuous for a long while, you know; had held him aloof from the frail +damsels with whom he formerly consorted, and his youth was speaking +now. The sea-bull must have the wild heifer. Lions that have loved +gazelles, so says the Arabian legend, have died of it. Living +creatures, by the law of nature, crave paroxysms of passion; so long +as they have them not, they seek them; and pay for them, if need be, +with their own and others' blood. Who of us will blame them for +becoming delirious sometimes, if we remember that life longs to live, +and that that longing overshadows the fear of death? + +"Come, go on!" + +The queen uttered love's command. And with one bound she jumped to the +saddle behind him. In a twinkling she had wound her right arm about +the horseman's waist: "Go on!" she said again; and then, in an +undertone, in a voice that was no more than a warm, speaking breath +upon the man's neck, and made him shudder to the very roots of his +hair, she added: "I want you, do you understand? I want you! So go on, +go on! The man who goes on, arrives!" + +He was caught, fast bound. The sorceress's arm was about his loins. He +felt it against him, living, trembling, stronger than aught else. + +The stupefied Renaud tried to regain his self-control,--to shake off +the spell. He sat there, dazed, unable to disentangle his thoughts, to +determine what he should do, trying to collect his ideas of a moment +before, the good cure's advice, his word of honor, none of which could +he remember or repeat to himself in his mind, intelligibly. It had all +gone from him, out of reach of the effort of his memory. When an +intense amorous passion guides our movements, it is as legitimate as +physical force,--honor is not betrayed: it has ceased to exist! + +Those few seconds of hesitation afforded Zinzara perfect comprehension +of what was taking place within him. His desire was no longer ardent +enough to satisfy her pride, since it was possible for him to waver +ever so little! + +"Where are we going?" said she, resuming her sharp, jerky tone, in +which there was a suspicion of a hiss. "Where are we going? You must +know of a hiding-place somewhere, some deserted cabin in the midst of +your swamps here,--a perfectly safe place, all your own, where you +have taken other women--what do I care? _Pardi!_ I don't suppose that +you waited for me, to _learn_! I will go wherever you take me. +Remember this--it must be somewhere where nobody can find me, for my +race doesn't mix with yours: the zingara who gives herself to a +Christian is the only despised one among us, and if one of our people +should see me, there would be knives in the air, you may be sure, for +you and for me!" + +He still hesitated, remembering that he had reasons for hesitation, +but unable to remember what they were. Mechanically he held back his +horse (it was Blanchet!), who was acting badly. + +At last, in the hurly-burly of his thoughts, he seized, at random, +upon one thing he had entirely forgotten, the tapers promised by +Livette to the Saintes Maries. He was to have lighted them devoutly in +the church, during the night before or that morning. Yesterday his +fiancee had reminded him again of the promise. Doubtless, Livette had +lighted them for him, but that was not the same thing. And so the +devil had him, do what he would. He lost his head. He felt that he was +sliding down an inclined plane, and finding his struggles of no avail, +he abandoned himself to his fate and hastened his fall. + +"I know where we will go," he said; "to the Conscript's Hut, in the +swamp." + +It seemed to him that he was forced to reply, but he no longer felt +any internal revolt against that obligation--far otherwise. + +"Is it far?" + +"Yes, in Crau, on the other side of the Rhone, near the Icard farm. +The devil couldn't find me there. Rampal might come there, no one +else----" + +"Wait," said she at that name, with a sudden gleam in her cat-like +eyes. + +She whistled. + +He said to himself that some one from Saintes-Maries would certainly +see them, and that Livette would learn the whole story--that it would +be better now to start at once.--Or perhaps--who knows?--the delay was +a good thing! Livette might pass, herself, and all would be changed. +He would hasten to her side. They would be saved. Who would be saved? +and from what? from a vague, terrible thing that was before him. He +could not have told what it was; but it was simply the renunciation of +his own will. + +The gitana's clear, shrill whistle summoned a little zingaro of some +ten years, a veritable wild cat, who came running to the horse's side. + +From the saddle she said a few words in the gipsy language to him, in +a short, imperative tone of command. The gipsy language is composed of +German, Coptic, Egyptian, and Sanscrit. Renaud listened without the +slightest suspicion of the meaning of the words. + +In a fit of amorous hatred, the swarthy queen said to the little +fellow: + +"You know Rampal, the drover? go and find him. He is in the village; I +saw him not long ago. Go at once and tell him this: he will find me +to-night, with his enemy, whom you see here, in the Conscript's Hut, +which he knows! And I will join you and the wagon to-morrow evening, +in the town of Arles, by the old tombs." + +She thought of everything. The wild cat disappeared. + +"What did you say to him?" Renaud inquired. + +She began to laugh, an insolent laugh. + +He felt that he abhorred her, that he would delight to see her +conquered, under his heel, absolutely in his power, gipsy queen and +sorceress that she was, like an ordinary woman. + +Each desired the other in hatred. + +She laughed as she thought that the man about whom her arms were +thrown like a lover she was luring to his destruction. That very +night--before or after the joys of love; what cared she for +that?--there would be between him and that other a struggle as of wild +beasts, which she longed to see; a witches' carnival of love, to +rejoice the souls of the dead; and she laughed. + +"Queens," said she, "cannot leave their kingdoms without issuing +secret orders. Come, my beast!" + +Was she speaking to the man or the horse?--To the man, doubtless, in +whom she had awakened an animal like herself. + +She pressed him tighter, and again she whispered: + +"Come, come!" + +He felt the vampire's breath playing in the short hair on his neck and +descending in hot flushes to his feet, which were nervously tapping +his horse's flanks. Renaud trembled. His passion had taken possession +of him once more in all its intensity. It seemed as if a hurricane +were raging in man and horse alike. They started off at full speed. + +Renaud believed that he had a victim in his grasp, but he was himself +the victim, and he rode away with the witch clinging fast to him--as +the kite sometimes flies away with the serpent, thinking that he has +mastered it, only to be strangled in its folds at last. + + + + +XXI + +HERODIAS + + +They galloped across the plain. At every step, Renaud felt the gentle +pressure of the woman's arm. Zinzara and Renaud galloped away upon +Livette's horse! + +Of what was the drover thinking? Was she girl or woman? His pride made +him persist, in spite of himself, in wishing that she might be the +former, although it seemed hardly probable, heathen females mature so +early! + +A breath of air blew in their faces. It brought to their nostrils the +pungent smell of tamarisk blossoms. He slackened his horse's pace. + +"Go on, go on!" said she, "press on! We will talk later--by ourselves, +romi, where nobody can see us." + +The horse darted forward afresh. + +Renaud was conscious of a vague yet overmastering feeling of pride in +being there, in trampling the grass of the plain with four feet, in +knowing no obstacles, in having that woman close beside him--and, over +yonder, another! + +One would run risks and be false to the traditions of her race for +his sake. The other, if she should know, might die of the knowledge. +And, although he loved her, the thought caused a thrill of savage joy, +but he promptly repressed it. Luckily, however, she would know nothing +of it. And he became intoxicated with the rapid movement and with +pride, man and beast combined, fairly launched upon his mad career. + +Magnificent was the sky, studded with more stars than the dunes have +grains of sand and the desert waving flowers clinging to the twigs of +the _saladelles_. The Milky-Way was as white as the pyramids of salt +seen through the morning mist. One would have said that a vast bridal +veil, torn in strips, was floating above the whole plain, alive with +murmurs of love. + +Innumerable little snails were perched, like blossoms, upon the stalks +of the reeds, and swung to and fro. + +A very gentle breeze was blowing and raising a slight, uncertain +ripple along the edges of the marsh, with the sound of a furtive kiss +among the flowering rushes. At times, a lark or a flamingo, asleep +among the reeds or in the shallow water, would awaken ever so little +and chirp to let his mate know that he was there, not far away. + +June is no hotter. Sometimes the smell of roses filled their nostrils, +coming in long puffs from far-off gardens. Yonder, in the park of the +Chateau d'Avignon, the Syrian tree was sending forth its pollen. + +Renaud, after skirting the sea for some distance, rode due northeast, +beyond the pond of La Dame. + +He was bound for Grand-Patis. The people at Sambuc had some boats that +he knew of. + +For a moment, they rode beside a drove. Bulls, standing in water up to +their thighs, hardly noticed, were feeding on the flowering reeds. +White mares fled at their approach, followed faithfully by stallions +anxious not to lose sight of them. The sap of May was flowing in the +reeds and rushes, in the sambucus and tamarisk. The very water exhaled +a saline odor, stronger than usual, and more heavily laden with +desires. The wild vine called to its mate, that came borne upon the +heavy breath of the blooming desert. + +Again Renaud stopped, seized with a mild, pleasurable vertigo. + +The fresh, love-compelling breeze in which they were bathed laid an +imperious command upon him. + +"Get down," said he, "get down at once! This is a good place to rest." + +But she remembered the order she had given. + +"We must go where we were going," said she. "I will not get down until +we are there. We must cross the Rhone, you say? Press on, press +on!--Gallop! The gipsy loves the horse." + +She would have none of his caresses except at the place appointed. She +would not submit to him until they should be where he was, by her +agency, in danger of death or suffering. A kiss under other +circumstances would be a triumph for him, and she gave herself to him +for her own pleasure alone. She desired to feel, in the interchange of +caresses, that the moisture of her lips was poison, that her bite +would cause death or madness. + +Firmly seated _en croupe_, still clinging fast to the drover--her +victim--with her arm wound about him, her bare legs hanging in the +folds of her skirt which the wind raised as they sped along, with her +head thrown proudly back, she swayed gracefully with the rocking +motion of the gallop; and her face, which had a sallow look in the +moonlight against the neck of the man whom she was leading astray, +albeit she seemed to be carried away by him--her face was wreathed in +smiles. + +When Herodias had obtained the head of John the Baptist, she lifted it +by the hair from the gold charger, whereon it lay with a circle of +blood around the neck, raised it to the level of her face, and after +gazing upon it with deep interest, examining the closed eyelids and +long lashes and the transparent pallor of the cheeks, she suddenly +placed her mouth upon that lifeless mouth and sought to force her +tongue between the lips to the cold teeth too tightly closed in death, +esteeming that kiss, inflicted on her dead foe, more delicious than +the incestuous caresses for which he had reproved her. + +What was left of Renaud's suspicions of Zinzara, while she was smiling +in the darkness, and the warm breath from her lips was playing upon +his neck? He had ceased to reflect; he rode on. He willingly postponed +the longed-for hour, now that he was forced to go on. He thought no +more of violence. His happiness was secure. He could wait. In the +midst of the deserted plains, still warm from the sunlight though +refreshed by the night air, love came without calling, but he enjoyed +the anticipation more than anything he had known.--And then she might +escape him even now. He must be careful not to startle her. When they +reached the nest yonder, he would keep her there some time. And so he +rode on, inhaling the saline air of the desert, which was his--with +his stallion's four shoeless feet trampling through the sand and +water, which were his also--bound for the horizon, which would soon be +his. + +Once, however, in the midst of a swamp, where the water was above his +horse's knees, he stopped again. + +"What is it?" said she. + +Renaud turned his head, and throwing himself back, called her with a +smacking of his lips. + +"When I am ready!" said Zinzara in a mocking tone. + +As she spoke, Blanchet leaped forward, with all four feet in the air, +and made a tremendous splashing in the water, which fell about their +heads in a heavy shower. + +And, unseen by Renaud, the gipsy smiled against his neck, as she +replaced in her hair the long gold pin she had plunged into the +beast's flank. + +Suddenly there was a shout of _Qui vive?_ directly in front of them, +so unexpected in the solitude, that Blanchet jumped again. + +"_Qui vive?_" the voice repeated. + +"The king!" Renaud replied gaily. + +"Ah! is it you, Renaud?" + +It was the revenue officers; but Renaud hurried by, at a safe +distance, so that they might not recognize the gitana. + +They were near the salt spring of Badon. The rectangular heaps of salt +seemed like so many long, low houses, with sharp roofs. In its +shroud-like whiteness the spot resembled a little town, geometrically +laid out, asleep under dead snow. + +They reached the shore of the main stream of the Rhone. + +Zinzara was on the ground before Renaud had stopped his horse. + +He alighted in his turn, and handed the rein to the gipsy. She held +Blanchet while he was drinking in the river. + +"Now for some oats!" said Renaud. + +He took a small sack that was fastened across his saddle-bow, from +holster to holster, and at Zinzara's suggestion emptied it into her +dress which she held up with both hands. + +Poor, poor Blanchet! there was only a handful of grain. + +"Wait for me; I'll go to find the boat." + +Renaud disappeared in the darkness behind the reeds and willows that +grew along the bank, drowned in the mist, floating like pallid +spectres in the darkness. + +Zinzara heard nothing save the plashing of the water, and the +crunching of the oats between Blanchet's teeth, as he swept them up +with his long lip from the hollow of the dress.--Oh! if Livette could +have seen that! + +"Here I am, come!" said Renaud's voice. + +He approached, raising the oars. She walked to the water's edge. + +"Hold the reins fast. The horse will follow us." + +She stepped into the boat and stood in the stern. Blanchet followed, +in the wake. + +Renaud knew the current at that spot. He rowed diagonally across and +reached the other shore more than a hundred yards farther down. + +He tied the boat to the trunk of a willow and tightened the girths, +and they were off again. + +It was necessary to ascend the stream a long distance to find a place +to ford the canal that runs from Arles to Port-le-Bouc. When they had +crossed the canal, he said: + +"We are almost there." + +They had ridden nearly five hours. + +His desires were approaching fruition. He was seized with the +impatience that comes with the last half-hour. He had a vision of what +was to come. + +"It is in the _gargate_," he said. And he explained: "The _gargate_ is +like thickened water. It is about the same as mud. The cabin we are +going to is in the midst of one of these patches of mud. Ah! we shall +be well protected there, gitana, I promise you. A man once lived there +for a long while; a conscript who wanted to evade the draft. And +later, an escaped convict, a native of the neighborhood, who knew +about the place. No one could dislodge him there. Others know the +spot; but never fear, I have a way to fool them. Trust me, gitana, we +shall be well guarded there, by death hidden in the water around us!" + +They reached their destination. + +Renaud tied his horse to a tree, and took Zinzara's hand. + +"Follow me," he said. + +The moon was rising. With the end of a stick, he pointed out to her, +just above the surface of the water, the heads of the stakes, looming +black among the stalks of thorn-broom and reeds and the broad, +spreading leaves of the water-lily. + +"Always step to the left of the stakes," he said; "they mark the +right-hand edge of the solid path just below the surface of the +water." + +Renaud had taken off his shoes and stockings. She lifted her skirts +and walked with bare legs, and he held her hand. They walked thus for +some time. Her interest was aroused by her surroundings. The place +pleased her. + +The water was disturbed a little here and there. She stopped and +watched. + +"Turtles," said he; and added: "Here is the cabin." + +The cabin stood in the midst of the bog, built on piles, as was the +path leading to it. Reeds and a few tamarisks surrounded it, and made +it invisible from almost every direction. On the gray, thatched roof, +shaped like a hay-stack, the little cross gleamed in the moonlight, +bent back as if the wind had tried to blow it down. + +The back of the cabin was turned to the _mistral_. They entered. +Renaud took a candle from his wallet and struck a match. The light +danced upon the walls. + +The low walls were of grayish mud, set in a rough frame-work. The +floor was covered with a bed of reeds. A cotton cloth, to keep out the +gnats, hung before the door. There was a stationary table against the +wall at the right, near the head of the bed; it was a flat stone +supported by four pieces of timber fastened to the floor. + +Renaud set his candle down on the stone. The gitana, already seated on +the rough bed, watched him with a savage look in her eyes. She began +to feel that she was a little too much in his power, that it was a +little too much like being under his roof. + +The cabin was like all the cabins in the district. From the ceiling +bunches of reed blossoms hung like waving silver plumes. The big +cross-timbers of the ceiling were pinned together with wooden pegs, +the large ends of which projected, and some few scraps of worn-out +clothes were still hanging from them. There was a fire-place in one +corner, made of large stones placed side by side, and in the roof, +directly above it, was a hole for the smoke. + +Renaud hung his wallet on one of the pegs. + +"Now, wait for me," he said, with a loud laugh, "I'm going out to +attend to the horse." + +She was surprised, but after she had glanced at him, she could think +of nothing but Rampal. + +He went out to Blanchet, removed the saddle and laid it on the ground, +then mounted him, bareback, and rode him to a pasture some distance +away, where he hobbled him and left him. + +A quarter of an hour later, Renaud returned, with his saddle across +his shoulders, to the cabin where Zinzara was awaiting him. But, as he +walked along the solid path, a black ribbon covered by a sheet of +shallow water, he took up the stakes that marked one edge of the path, +and moved them from the right side to the left;--so that, if that +beggarly Rampal, the only man likely to follow him to that lair, chose +to come there, he certainly would not go far, but would remain there, +buried up to his neck at least! + +When he had changed the position of the first twenty stakes, the only +ones visible from the shore of the bog, Renaud stood up and walked +swiftly toward the cabin. His heart at that moment was sad, and more +filled with slime and noxious things than the waters of the swamp, +which, though they glistened in the moonlight, were black beneath the +surface. + + + + +XXII + +IN THE NEST + + +In the contracted cage, whose thatched roof, with its peak of red +tiles, shone in the moonlight amid the marsh plants, the two beasts of +the same species, Zinzara and Renaud, were shut up together. + +"I am hungry," said she, in a hostile tone. + +He took a tin box from his wallet and raised the cover; it contained +the wherewithal to support life; he cut the bread and uncorked the +bottle. + +She ate silently, still with the savage look in her eyes. He waited +upon her, partaking also of the dry bread himself, and putting his +lips to the flat bottle, filled with the strong wine of the wild +grape. + +When they had eaten, he handed her a small flask of brandy. She drank +from it, joyfully, and soon her eyes began to sparkle. He looked at +her, ready to embrace her. She answered him with a glance so mocking +and unfathomable, that he hesitated, waiting for he knew not what, +weary besides, and feeling that his brain was confused. + +He saw her thereupon take her tambourine, which she wore fastened to +her belt by a small cord, under her dress; and she began to play upon +it. She was sitting on the bed. She struck regular, monotonous blows +upon the vibrating skin, and at every blow the charms depending from +the tambourine jangled noisily. + +Then she began to sing outlandish words, in slow measure, beating time +with the tambourine. And this proceeding at length fascinated the +drover, who gazed at her, as completely under the spell as the lizard +listening to the locust in the sunshine on a summer's day. + +This lasted an hour. He watched her, enchanted, proud, thinking of +nothing but her, and he felt his heart leap and quiver in his breast +at every touch upon the tambourine. + +But one would have said that she had drawn about herself a circle that +he could not cross. He waited until the circle should be broken. He +was like one of the great dogs trained to guard droves of bulls; that +are so fearless of blows from the horns of their charges, but sit +obediently by watching their master at his meals, waiting for the +crumb he tosses them, slaves of the king, of their god, who is man. + +She had now the effect upon him of a genuine queen, a queen in some +fairy tale, with her studied attitudes accompanied by the monotonous +music, which was accentuated by the ceaseless motion of the sequins of +her crown of copper against her swarthy brow and the dead black of +her hair. + +Suddenly she laid her tambourine aside. He started toward her. She +held him back with a stern glance, and snatching away the silk +handkerchief that covered her shoulders, appeared before him in a rich +waist of many colors; and he saw upon her breast necklaces of gold +pieces--her fortune. + +"Await my pleasure," said she. "Leave me in peace a moment." + +She covered her head with the ample handkerchief she had taken off and +remained hidden behind that veil for a moment. Renaud heard her +muttering unfamiliar words--_mormo_, _gorgo_--words of sorcery, +without doubt. + +When she threw back her veil, she was laughing. + +What vision had the sorceress evoked? what had the seer seen? + +"It will be better than I hoped!" said she. "Now, look!" + +She rose, and to the accompaniment of the jangling of the sequins in +her diadem and the gold pieces of her necklace, set in motion by her +slow dance, in the course of which she did not move from where she +stood, she removed her garments, one by one. + +By the flickering light of the candle, that waved back and forth as a +breath of air came in through the door, Renaud watched the familiar +vision reappear. + +Zinzara swayed this way and that as she unfastened, one after +another, her waist, her skirts--and took them off, bending gracefully +forward and backward, raising her arms above her head or lowering them +to her ankles. And now you would have said it was a bronze statue, +glistening in the half-darkness. Renaud knew that figure well, from +having seen it one day in the bright sunlight, and so many, many times +since then, in his imagination. + +The necklace tinkled upon her swelling breasts; several large rings +were around her ankles, and upon her brow, the crown from which the +trinkets hung. + +She turned and twisted gracefully about, her dark skin gleaming like a +mirror. + +"You see," said she, "Zinzara gives herself, no man takes her, romi. +The wild girl belongs to no one but herself. And even now I could, if +I chose, nail you where you stand, forever!" + +As she spoke, she threw down upon her clothes a keen-edged stiletto +that had gleamed for an instant in her hand. + +"Come!" said she. + +They lay, side by side, on the floor of that hovel, upon the crackling +reeds. + +At that moment, he looked into the depths of her eyes, and he saw +there vague things by which he had already on several occasions been +profoundly alarmed. The gitana's hidden purpose, as to which she +herself had no clear idea, flickered uncertainly in her glance, +making its presence felt, but giving no hint by which it could be +divined. + +Her smile, which was ordinarily visible only at the corner of her +mouth, had spread, more unfathomable than ever, over her whole face, +which wore an expression of triumphant mockery. More mysterious she +appeared and more desirable. If Renaud had been familiar with the +carved stone animals that lie sleeping in the Egyptian desert, he +would have recognized their expression, an expression that words +cannot describe, upon the speaking face that gazed at him and called +him. + +And, lo! the hatred he had once before felt for that face, for that +glance, returned swiftly, imperiously, to his mind; an irresistible +desire to seize the woman by the neck and choke her with cruel, +unyielding hands. + +Even that feeling was love, for otherwise it would have occurred to +him to part abruptly from the sorceress, to fly from her; that thought +would have come to him, once at least, and it did not come. On the +contrary, he felt that he could not really possess her except by some +violence of that sort. Is it not true that mares look upon bites as +caresses?--She saw the thought in his eyes, and began to laugh. + +Again she recognized distinctly, and with delight, the brute like +herself that she had aroused in him. And she did it to demonstrate her +power to subdue the brute, with a look. + +"Oh! you may!" she said, with a smile. + +As she spoke, he caught a rapid glimpse of the part she was to play +in his destiny: the pollution of his life, the loss of real happiness, +of all repose, and the false love--the strongest of all passions. + +Their glances, laden with amorous hate, met and struck fire like +knife-blades. + +He seized her around the neck and was very near choking her in good +earnest; he thought that he would strangle her. "Come, come!" she said +in a languishing voice; but, suddenly feeling the pressure of the hand +that was really squeezing her throat, she leaped up at him, and, with +a strangled laugh, hurled her mouth at his and bit his lips. They +could hear their teeth clash. He uttered a cry which was at once +stifled, for their angry lips had no sooner met than they were +appeased. + +She gazed at him for a long while, looking always into his eyes. She +saw them more than once grow dim and sightless, and then, exulting in +the thought of this wild bull's weakness in her hands, she laughed +silently; but no emotion dimmed the brightness of her eyes. Suddenly, +when he had grown calmer, a profound sigh caused him to look with more +attention at the savage creature he had conquered at last. A pallor as +of the other world overspread her swarthy face; her features were +distended. She was no longer smiling. The wrinkle that ordinarily +raised one corner of her lips and gave her an air of mockery had +vanished. The corners of her mouth, on the other hand, drooped a +little, imparting a sad expression to her face. One would have said +she was a different being. There was no trace of animation upon her +features. She no longer belonged to herself. An attack of vertigo had +taken away her power of thought. She was like a drowned woman drifting +with the tide. Something as everlasting as death had proved stronger +than she. + +As if from the midst of one of those dreams which, in a second, open +eternity to our gaze, she returned to herself with amazement. + +The snake-charmer realized that she had been defeated in a way she was +unaccustomed to; she experienced a curious sensation of shame, a sort +of proud regret that she had forgotten herself as never before.--And +was he, without even suspecting the trap she had set for him, +tranquilly to carry off the gratification of his passion with which +she had baited the trap? In that case she would have betrayed herself! +She would be the victim of her detested lover! of Livette's +betrothed!--The mere thought was intolerable to her. And in a frenzy +of rage and humiliation she put out her hand and felt among her +clothes that lay in a pile near by, for the stiletto she had +insolently thrown upon them just before. + +Renaud understood only one thing; the beast was becoming ugly again! +He seized her wrists and held her arms to the ground, crossed above +her head, and then he began to laugh in his turn. + +Her insane rage came to the surface; she writhed about and tried to +bite, but could not. She felt that her power was gone, that she was in +the hands of one stronger than herself. Without understanding her, he +felt that she was dangerous and he mastered her. The Christian had her +in his power! It was too much. She felt her eyes bursting with the +tears that were ready to gush forth, but she forced them back. A +little foam appeared at the corner of her mouth. + +"Dog!" she exclaimed. + +At that, the man whose face she saw above her own, bending over and +rising again quickly, touched her lips with his. And he had the +feeling that the hand that grasped the stiletto relaxed its hold. + +At that moment, a wailing cry rent the air above the cabin, then +ceased abruptly, before it had died away in the distance, as if the +bird that uttered that signal of distress had lighted among the reeds +near at hand, and had at once become mute. + +Renaud took his eyes from the gitana's face. + +"What is that?" said he. + +"A curlew flying over!" she replied, without moving.--"The curlew goes +south in winter." + +Renaud was on his feet, pale as death. + +"King," said she, "do you love your queen? Then look at her!" + +And, as she lay upon her back, she began to make her snake-like body +undulate and gleam like a mirror, keeping time with her tambourine, +which she held above her head. + +The bursts of laughter with which she punctuated the outlandish music +displayed her glistening teeth from end to end. + +"Come back here," she said, "are you afraid?" + +He was ashamed, and, returning to the straw pallet, resumed his role +of subjugated watch-dog in love with a she-wolf. + +In that one night, the young man felt the whole power of his youth, +learned more of life and realized more dreams than many real kings. + +The pleasures of love are no greater to the prince than to the +charcoal-burner. + +The day was breaking. Bands of violet along the horizon changed to +pink and then to yellow. An awakening breeze passed like a shiver over +the desert of sand and water, entered the cabin, and blew out the +flickering light on the stone table. + +A cock in the distance welcomed the dawn. + +Thereupon, Renaud started to go to find his horse. The wallet was +empty, too. + +"At the Icard farm," said he, "I can get what I need." + +"Do you suppose," said she, "that I intend to stay here all day like a +captive goose?" + +"Is it all over, then?" said he, "and are you going away, too?" + +"To return may be a pleasure," said she, "but to remain is always a +bore." + +She hummed in the gipsy language: + + "God gave thy mare no rein, Romichal." + +"If you choose," she continued, "we will ride together till night. My +horse has wings." + +"Very good," said Renaud. "Do you cross over to solid ground first. We +will go together and get my horse. It will be a fine day." + +"And a good one! be sure of that!" said she, in her jerky voice, her +voice which resembled _another's_. + +He went with her as far as the first of the stakes he had displaced, +to point out the safe road to her, and when he saw her reach the edge +of the swamp sixty feet beyond, he stooped and began to put the stakes +in place one by one as he walked toward the firm ground. + +When he reached the last, he sprang to his feet with haggard eyes. + +Livette, with head thrown back, face turned toward the sky, eyes +closed, mouth open, and grass mingled with her straying hair, was +lying among the water-lilies, as if asleep, and in the throes of a bad +dream. He also saw her two little clenched hands, above the water, +clinging to the reeds. + +Transformed for a moment to a statue, Renaud soon aroused himself, +and, bending over Livette, put his hands under her armpits. The poor +body, buried in the thick, black ooze, came slowly forth, torn from +its bed like the smooth stalk of a lily. + +When he had the poor body in his arms, inert and cold, perhaps +dead,--the body of the poor, dear child, whose skirts, entangled in a +net-work of long grasses, clung tightly to her dangling legs,--Renaud +suddenly uttered a roar as of an enraged wild beast, and ran like a +madman at the top of his speed to the nearest farm-house. + + + + +XXIII + +THE PURSUIT + + +One forgives only those whom one loves; only those who love forgive. +Love at its apogee is naught but the power of inspiring forgiveness +and bestowing it; and the social laws, which are of the mechanism of +human justice, seem to have realized that fact, since they ignore the +testimony of all those who would naturally be expected to love the +culprit. + +Sympathy is simply a laying aside--in favor of those we love--of the +implacable severity which we use but little in dealing with ourselves, +and which attributes to those who pass judgment an unerring wisdom +which is not human, or a self-confidence which is too much so. + +Livette, as she lay sick upon the best bed in the Icard farm-house, +already had, in her sorrowing heart, an adorable feeling of indulgence +for Renaud, which would have made the blessed maidens who laid the +Crucified One in his shroud, smile with joy in the mystic heaven of +the lofty chapel. She believed that she would die by her fiance's +fault, and she pitied him. Forgiveness sooner or later redeems him +who receives, and consoles him who accords it. In the sentiment of +compassion is hidden the divine future of mankind. + +Renaud was still ignorant of Livette's indulgence. Indeed, he could +not deserve it until he had come to look upon himself as forever +unworthy. + +For the moment, he had not gone to the bottom of the hell of evil +thoughts. + +When he found Livette half drowned in the _gargate_, his first +impulse, born of true love and pity for her, in absolute forgetfulness +of himself, lasted but an instant--but it had existed. Renaud at first +suffered for her and for her alone. + +His second impulse, almost immediate, and praiseworthy still, although +there was a touch of selfishness in it, was to condemn himself, +through fear of moral responsibility. Had he not with his own hand +displaced the stakes that marked the path, with the idea, indefensible +at best, that Rampal would be misled by that treacherous method of +defence? Yes, almost immediately after he uttered his cry of agony, he +shuddered with terror at the thought of the remorse that was in store +for him, as soon as he felt that Livette was like a dead woman in his +arms. + +When he had given her in charge of the women at the main farm-house of +the Icard farm, where there was great excitement over such an +adventure at that time of day, he questioned two old peasant-women who +knew more than all the doctors in the province. After doing what was +necessary for Livette, they cheerfully declared that the poor girl +would not die of it; they even said that it was "nothing at all." He +did not even try to understand how she had come so far to fall into +the trap! + +She would not die! That was the essential thing at that moment. What a +relief _to him_, for he was already accusing himself of his little +sweetheart's death! He had been so afraid! And it turned out to be +only a warning! God be praised, and blessed be the mighty saints who +had performed such a miracle! + +But the devil rejoiced when he looked into Renaud's conscience, for he +saw the course his ideas were about to take, a course that would lead +him from bad to worse. + +Reassured as to Livette,--and as to himself,--he flew into a passion +with the accursed gitana, the indirect cause, at least, of all this +misery. + +"Ah! the beggar! I will kill her!--it will be easy to find her again. +She can't be far away--I will kill her!" + +His wrath took full possession of him--he ran for his horse. Kill +her!--kill her! Nothing could be more righteous.--And he went about +it. + +Poor Renaud! the victim of all the involuntary falsehoods which, +starting from ourselves, one engendering another, sometimes render the +best of us irresponsible and drive us on to disaster when passion +makes us mad. + +This chain, often undiscoverable, of false but specious reasons with +which men deceive themselves, each fitting into the last without +violence, each explaining and justifying the one that follows +it--leads insensibly to acts incomprehensible to him who is not able +to follow it back, link by link. It is the chain of FATALITY, in which +the links, consisting of trifling but suggestive facts, of decisive +circumstances, unknown sometimes to the culprit, alternate with the +fictitious good motives he has invented for his own benefit in the +reflex movements of his mind. To re-establish the logical sequence of +facts, of sensations suddenly transformed into ideas, is the work of +equity which reasons, or of love which divines. In default of tracing +back the chain of insensible, imperious transitions, we find between +the criminal who has long been an honest man and his crime, the abyss +at sight of which fools and unthinking folk, filled with the pride of +implacable sinners, never fail to exclaim: "It is monstrous!" But if +God, infinite Love, does exist, everything is forgiven, because +everything is understood; there are, mayhap, simply the miserable +wretches on one side, and divine pity on the other. + +Yes, Renaud would have killed the sorceress, with savage joy, to +avenge Livette. But was not that desire, which he deemed a +praiseworthy one, simply a pretext for seeking her out again that same +day, for seeing her once more?--That, at all events, is what the devil +himself thought as he crouched on the floor of the crypt in the +church of Saintes-Maries-de-la-Mer, on the spot occupied the day +before by the dark-browed gipsies, beneath the shrine of Saint Sara. + +And so, mounted upon Blanchet, Renaud galloped furiously away upon his +tracks of the night, intending to kill Zinzara. + +Livette would not die!--That idea caused him great joy, so great that +he was no sooner out-of-doors, away from the painful, wearisome +spectacle of the poor unconscious child, than he yielded, alas! to the +influence of the bright sunlight, and breathed at ease. He had already +ceased to think of Livette's sufferings. His satisfaction had already +ceased to be anything more than selfishness: not only would he not +have to reproach himself for her death, but, more than that, now that +she knew everything, was he not absolved, as it were? There was +nothing more for him to fear. The worst that could happen had +happened! And he actually felt as if a weight had been taken from his +shoulders, as if he were once more sincere in his dealings with +Livette, a better man, in short, thanks to what had happened. Although +he did not reason this out, the thought went through his mind. It was +what he felt. For everything serves the passion of love; it turns to +its own profit the very things that would naturally tend most to +thwart it. Moreover, he need feel no qualms of conscience, as he was +going to chastise the malignant creature, to kill her, in fact:--a +vile race! + +No, she could not be far away. Doubtless, if she had planned the +catastrophe, she had concealed herself near at hand to see the result. + +He rode back toward the bridge over the canal. No one had seen the +gipsy there. He descended the Rhone to the spot where they had left +the boat the night before. The boat was in the same place, fastened by +the same knot. + +He began to fear that he might not find her. But when, after searching +two hours, he was certain of it, he was much surprised to find that he +did not feel the righteous wrath of the officer of justice at the +thought of a culprit eluding the vengeance of the law, but the sudden +distress of a betrayed lover. He did not cry to himself: "I shall not +have the pleasure of punishing her!" but: "I shall never see her +again!" And that cry burst forth in his heart as a fierce revelation +of unpardonable, pitiless love. What! he loved her! he loved her! and +he learned it for the first time at that moment! he admitted it to +himself for the first time!--yes, beyond cavil he loved her--_now_! +His heart failed him. He was bewildered. He felt a vague sense of +well-being, due to the mere joy of loving, marred by a feeling of +intense chagrin at the thought of the certain misery that lay before +him. He was horrified at himself, and, at the same moment, decided +upon his future course in a frenzy of excitement. + +The physical power of love is superb and appalling. It stops at +nothing. And the man who is watching beside the dying or the dead, +even though it be some one who is dear to him, feels a thrill of joy +rush to his heart, if the being he loves with all the force of his +youth passes by. + +Renaud had just held Livette almost dying in his arms, and already he +had no regret save for the other, for the woman he should have +trampled under his feet! + +Thereupon, all the events of the night returned to his mind, and +finished the work of poisoning. He could not be reconciled to the +thought that he should never again see what he had had for so short a +time. No, it could not be at an end. If she were a criminal, why then +he would love her in her crime, that was all! The black bull was +loose.--But Livette? aha! Livette? a swan's feather, or a red +flamingo's, under his horse's hoof. + +What was the placid affection the young maid had inspired in his heart +compared to the frenzy of sorrow and joy the other caused him to feel? +Sorrow and joy combined, that is what love is; and the love men prefer +is not that which contains the greater joy as compared to the keener +sorrow--it is that in which those emotions are most intense. It was +that law of passion to whose operation Renaud was now being subjected. +He realized that he had definitely chosen the other, the gipsy, +despite the cry of his outraged sense of honor. + +That cry of his honest heart, to which he no longer lent a willing +ear, he still heard, do what he would, and he suffered half +consciously, for many reasons which he did not distinguish one from +another, but which resulted in producing a confused feeling in his own +mind that he was a monster. + +A monster! for now that he considered the matter more carefully, it +became his settled conviction that the gitana had intended to kill +Livette--and yet it was that same gitana that he loved! + +Ah! the witch!--She had certainly seen Livette, her poor little head, +like a dead woman's, lying on the water among the grass, her mouth +open for the last cry for help, her teeth glistening with water in the +sunlight! She could not have helped seeing her.--And she had passed +her by without a word!--It was because she was determined to be her +ruin. She had evidently led her into the trap. How? What did it +matter! but it was no longer possible to doubt that it was the fact. + +But in that case--if she was really guilty--there could be no doubt, +either, that having seen her desire accomplished, she had fled. She +would appear no more! he would have no opportunity to kill her! he +would never see her again! And the thing that moved him most deeply in +connection with Livette's misfortune was the thought that it involved +Zinzara's flight. He tried in vain to put away the abominable regret; +it returned upon him like a wave. What! he should never see her again! + +Oh! those caresses of the night before in the cabin of the swamp were +clinging to his arms and legs like serpents. They twined about his +body as creeping plants about the branches of the tamarisk, or as one +eel about another: biting at his heart. And he shivered from head to +foot. + +"Ah! the witch!" he repeated. "Ah! the witch! What! never again!" + +Never again!--Why, did he not think that night that he should be able +to keep her on his island; that it would last a year at least, until +the next year's fetes; that he would have the wild beast to himself in +the desert, in his wild beast's lair--all to himself, with her lithe, +graceful body, her ankle-rings and bracelets, and her beggar queen's +crown? + +But did she not love him? Had it all been mere trickery and craft on +her part? + +The horse's blood flowed freely under the drover's spurs; but the +horseman's heart was bleeding within him a thousand times more +cruelly. + +All mere trickery and craft! He repeated it again and again to +himself, and would not believe it. + +That she was false to the core, he firmly believed, and, by dint of +thinking about it, soon ceased to believe it. That would have been too +horrible, really! His self-pity and the feeling that he must be proud +of her forced back the thought, which, driven away for a moment, +returned again at once with more force as a sure, proven, established +fact. It returned like a flash of light which hurt his eyes. Yes, yes, +she was false to the core! yes, from pure wantonness the woman had +deceived him again and again since the day of the bath, when she +exhibited her naked body to him with the deliberate purpose of leading +him astray, of leaving him, some day, stranded in the desert, without +his fiancee, without his love--alone. + +And he struggled desperately to see her again--in his memory at +least--in order to question her crafty features, but, try as he would, +his mind was unable to restore the picture, drowned as it was beneath +a wavering, irritating mist. He opened his eyes to their fullest +extent, as if, by causing them to express a fixed determination to see +her again, he could compel her to appear before him in flesh and +blood. And he no longer saw the trees or the moor that lay before him, +or the sky or the horizon, but neither did he see her whose image he +sought to evoke. Then he suddenly closed his eyes, and for a brief +second--in the darkness--he caught a glimpse of her. Was it really +she? He had not time to recognize her. Once, however, the image became +clearer, and he _saw_ her; but still it was only a shadowy face, still +veiled with falsehood and impenetrable to him. + + [Illustration: Chapter XXIII + + _She went to the farther end of the Allee des Alyscamps, + between the rows of tall poplars, amid the stone monuments, + and lighted a fire of twigs, to give her light enough to look + about and select a spot where she could sleep comfortably._] + +What he was seeking was her real face, WHICH DID NOT EXIST, for a face +is the expression of a soul, and she had no soul. Had she ever loved +him? that is what he would have liked to ascertain, if nothing +more. Had she smiled on Rampal? Perhaps--God! could it be +possible? Who knows? Of what was she not capable to consummate her +crime?--And yet he secretly admired her for the extraordinary perfidy +he attributed to her. The Saracen blood, the blood of heathen pirates, +did not flow in his veins for nothing. + +Yes, indeed, if, in her hate-inspired work, she had had need of +Rampal, with whom he had several times seen her talking, was it not +possible that she had given herself to him in order to make him +absolutely submissive to her will? What was he thinking of? Given +herself to him? No, not that!--Not in its fullest meaning, at all +events--but she might have let him steal a kiss--a long kiss, +perhaps--from her lips. And the herdsman felt the keen point of the +spear of jealousy pierce his heart. + +He thought and thought, feverish with passion, excited by his +excessive exertions for several days past, and he rode through the +fields and swamps, amid the grass and stones of Crau, surrounded by +buzzing insects maddened by the heat, which was terrible. + +Great God! only the night before, he had believed that she had a +veritable woman's passion for him, a passion like those he had often +aroused in women, with his strength, his courage, and his prowess as +horse-breaker and cavalier. And as she was the daughter of a free +race, and queen of her tribe, he had been proud of his conquest. He +had straightened himself up in his saddle, like a crowned king, +conqueror in many battles. He had handled his spear with a firmer +hand. He had glanced proudly at the other drovers, his comrades, with +a distinct feeling that he was "better than they," since this savage +queen, who, in her travels, had doubtless seen so many brave and +comely men, had chosen him--even though he were not the first!--that +she, whom the laws of her people forbade to love a European dog, the +slave of cities, had chosen him, the drover of Camargue! + +Now that that happiness was gone from him, he suddenly realized its +value. An immense void lay before him. For the first time, the desert +seemed a melancholy place to him, too vast, too bare. He realized that +henceforth his whole life would lie in the past. He was no longer the +king! He would never be the king again! She had never loved him! And +she had pretended that she did! + +But when she had cried out and turned pale in his arms, had she not +forgotten that she was acting a lie? If that were so, she must be very +sure of finding elsewhere such ardent caresses as his, from another. +Otherwise she would not have fled, for he scouted the idea that she +was afraid. Such a one as she could have no fear! And if, as he +thought the night before, he had really taken her fancy, would she not +have remained, guilty or not, to enjoy his caresses anew, even though +she were to die of them? + +But she would not have died of them! She, sorceress as she was, must +have known that he would have forgiven everything. Therefore she had +_wanted_ to go. She cared nothing for him. If, on the other hand, it +had pleased her to keep him with her, to continue their liaison, she +would have found a way to do it, in spite of everything. She had only +to desire to do it. She did not _desire_!--Even so, he desired her! + +He rode away at headlong speed. He must find her again. Then they +would see! And he circled round the cabin in the swamp like a hawk, +examining all the clumps of thorn-broom, all the tamarisks and reeds. +Oh! he would find her! + +He had been riding for several hours, and he began to feel that his +quest was useless. If she were outside the limits of the last greater +circle that he had described in his search for her, it was all over! +he was too late. + +At last, convinced of his discomfiture, he leaped from his horse and +seated himself on the sloping bank of a ditch. It was near midday. He +was neither hungry nor thirsty, but the sun told him that it was +midday. + +The gnats were humming about his ears, devouring him, riddling the +hide of his horse, who hung his head and sniffed at a tuft of salt +grass without eating it, pulling a little upon the rein which Renaud, +still seated, held loosely in his hand. + +Renaud was looking straight before him, and now that he was assured of +his misfortune, now that he had neither betrothed nor mistress, +neither present nor future, he felt that he was becoming cold and +hard, and was astonished to find it so. It seemed to him as if his +misfortune had happened to a piece of wood or stone. The wood and the +stone were himself. How could he have had such dread of the certainty +that had come to him at last? While he had that dread, he still hoped +and suffered. Now that all was said, he found that he was insensible +to it all--dead, in a measure. And that gratified him. + +He who had wept so bitterly the night that he tried to put aside his +nascent passion, now, in this final catastrophe, which should have +called forth all the tears in his body, felt as if the springs had run +dry. Instead of being more deeply moved than ever, he found that he +was strangely composed, as if armed against fate.--He received the +blow like a soldier, like a drover. His tranquillity became more +pronounced and more extraordinary as the excessive severity of the +disaster became more certain. + +Tranquillity for an hour, perhaps! But what did that matter? He had no +suspicion of it. He found that he was strong in the face of disaster. +Ah! she could make up her mind to go? She was laughing at me? Very +good! I have no need of her, the vagabond! I have seen through the +sorceress! I know her, I know her! Good-evening! + +He rose, to return home. As he raised his head, he saw the +gitana--five hundred yards ahead of him.--Her back was turned to him, +and she was walking tranquilly along. + +In a twinkling, he was in the saddle. "Stop!" Blanchet, smarting under +a blow from the stirrup-leather, flew over the ground, making the sand +and stones fly, snorting with wrath as the spur tore his flank. In +four minutes they made half a league. The gipsy, still in front, with +her back turned to them, walked quietly along. It was her orange +handkerchief, her copper crown, her undulating gait. It was certainly +she! + +Suddenly, when she reached the shore of a pond, she walked out, with +the same tranquil step, upon the surface of the water, which bore her +weight as if it were covered with ice; while, not far away, a large +brig, decked out with flags, was bearing down upon him, with all sail +set, through the furze-bushes and prickly oaks of Crau, across the +arid fields. + +Renaud sadly hung his head. The brig explained it all. It was all a +spectre due to the mirage! Discouragement came upon the man and +crushed him. + +Thus, all the strength he had expended, his shameful acceptance of +such a love, his toilsome day of fruitless search, after the mad ride +of the preceding night, the exhaustion of horse and rider, all came to +an end in the endless trickery of the mirage! + +The sorceress must be far away! And in what direction? There was +nothing for him to do but abandon the pursuit. He retraced his steps +to the Icard farm. The fruitlessness of the effort affected him more +keenly than the effort itself. + +He no longer looked about, he no longer thought, he no longer loved or +hated. Weariness had suddenly fallen upon his shoulders and his loins +like a weight too heavy to be borne. He rode on, bent almost double, +swaying like an inert thing, with the motion of his horse. He felt as +if he were falling from a great height in a sort of sick man's dream. +His eyes, worn out with gazing over the fields and scrutinizing every +bush, closed in spite of him. His nerveless hand knew not where the +reins were; nor did his brain know what had become of his ideas. + +Blanchet went forward mechanically, with his head almost touching the +ground. He, too, was without will-power, overdone, exhausted, his eyes +injected with blood; his breath was short and quick, and his flanks +beat the charge. + +At another time, the careful horseman, who loved his beasts, would +very quickly have noticed that his horse's wind was broken, when he +felt his sides rise and fall with that short, hard, jerky breath; but +Renaud was conscious of nothing. There was nothing in his head but a +burning void. He did not even long for shade or rest. He was suffering +from the utter dejection that follows terrible crises, from the great +sorrow caused by death, from hopeless despair. Overwhelmed as he was +by his selfish weariness, if he had been capable of recognizing any +sentiment in his mind, he would have found there a vague, cowardly +feeling of annoyance at having to enter a sick-chamber, at having to +witness the spectacle of Livette's suffering. He would have liked--but +he had not the strength to do it--to dismount from his horse, to lie +down in the fresh air, under a tamarisk, and sleep there a long, long +time; to forget himself, to cease to see or speak or hear or listen or +exist!--He was like one walking in his sleep. + +Suddenly Blanchet stopped, and began to tremble in every limb, and, +before his rider had come to his senses, his four legs, planted +stiffly like stakes, seemed to be broken by a single blow, and he fell +in a heap. + +Renaud awoke, standing on his feet beside his fallen horse. Blanchet +was dying. It was soon over. The honest creature opened, to an +unnatural width, his great glazed eyes, green as the stagnant water in +the swamps, and filled with that wondering expression which the +infinite mystery of living or of having lived imparts to the gaze of +little children, animals, and dying men; he straightened out his four +legs, trembling like the reeds in the marshes. A shiver ran over his +whole body, riddled with the stings of a myriad of gnats and great +flies, some of which flew up into the air and settled down again in +the corners of the dim, wide-open eyes. Then the poor creature became +motionless, with an indefinable something that was alarming and +terrible in his immobility, something that put joy to flight, that +seemed to imply finality. It was death. Blanchet had ended his humble +Camarguese life in the open desert, in the bright sunlight. Livette's +horse was dead in the service of Renaud's passion for Zinzara! + +The faithful beast did not know what had happened; he did not know the +reason of the forced journeys, the multiplied wounds inflicted by +Renaud's spurs, by the stings of the gadflies, and by Zinzara's pin, +buried in his flesh; he had submitted, without a murmur, to the +destiny that bade him suffer at the hands of those who might have made +life pleasanter for him, and, as he lay dead, his eyes still expressed +his endless amazement at his failure to understand what was expected +of him. + +It was all over. He was dead. The affectionate creature had fallen a +victim to the violence and malignity of human passions. Man had +betrayed him for a woman's sake. And now his graceful form, made for +swift movement, was infinitely sad to see, because the eye could see +clearly all that there was in its immobility contrary to the purpose +for which it was designed--and irreparable. + +Renaud gazed stupidly at him.--He saw again, like so many reproachful +words, Blanchet's last look, his short, rapid breath, the shudder that +ran over his bleeding skin. And, restored to his senses by this +unforeseen catastrophe which awoke a thousand salutary thoughts in his +mind, he felt his heart grow soft. He burst into tears. + +Thus Blanchet served his mistress still by his death. "Everything is +of some use," said Sigaud. + +Renaud stooped and returned, upon his still warm nostrils, the kiss he +had received from him on the day of his first despair; then, having +removed the saddle and bridle and concealed them in a safe place, he +returned on foot to the Icard farm, with an intense, affectionate +desire to do his utmost to care for and comfort poor Livette, for the +death of her horse brought him back to her more quickly than anything +else could have done. + +He promised himself that he would return and bury Blanchet, but he did +not have time. The good horse belonged to the vulture and the eagle. + +In the evening of that same day, while Livette, sleeping soundly, +seemed to everybody to be out of danger,--while Renaud lay, like a +dog, in front of her door, determined to defend and save her,--Zinzara +arrived at the Alyscamps at Arles. + +There, thinking that Renaud might, with the devil's assistance, +succeed in overtaking her,--although she may have had her reasons for +thinking that his horse was not in condition for service at that +time,--she left her house on wheels, in order that she might not be +taken by surprise therein like a wild beast in its lair,--not from +fear, but because she was desirous, before all else, not to see him +again. She went to the farther end of the Allee des Alyscamps, between +the rows of tall poplars, amid the stone monuments, and lighted a +fire of twigs, to give her light enough to look about and select a +spot where she could sleep comfortably. + +She went there late, when the lovers who congregate there on May +evenings, to make love upon the tombs, had returned to the sleeping +city. + +Along the whole length of the avenue, between the tall, straight +poplars, run two rows of sarcophagi, some very high, with massive +lids, others low and without lids, with a few scattered blossoms, sown +by the wind, at the bottom. The dead who once slept there were sent +down to Arles in sealed urns, abandoned to the current of the Rhone by +the cities farther up the river. Now flowers are springing from their +dust; and their open tombs are nothing more than beds for vagabonds +and lovers. + +By the bright light of her fire, which cast her shadow, enormously +exaggerated, upon the wall of the ruined chapel, Zinzara selected her +couch. She tossed an armful of grass and leaves upon the bottom of a +sarcophagus; and, while the nightingale, who builds his nest there +every year, was singing for dear life, the strange creature slept +peacefully, with her face to the sky, trusting in her destiny; and, as +a ray of moonlight fell upon her calm face with its closed eyelids, +the sorceress resembled her black mummy, which concealed and idealized +corruption--embalmed beneath a golden mask. + + + + +XXIV + +IN THE GARGATE + + +When he received Zinzara's message from the gipsy child, Rampal, who +was still suffering from his fall of a few days before, did not think +of going in person to surprise Renaud. He did better than that. He +went at once to Livette, and told her of the rendezvous at the cabin. + +"Your lover, Livette, who defends you so fiercely against a harmless +kiss, is with a woman to-night--you ought to be able to guess who she +is--in the Conscript's Hut, near the Icard farm." + +As Livette stood aghast, with pale cheeks, he continued: + +"Your father has good horses; if you want to see for yourself, you +can. It will be worth your while." + +"Thanks, Rampal," said Livette. + +Not for an instant did she doubt the truth of what he told her, and +she said to her father: + +"Go with me to the Icard farm, father, as you know the people there. +Let us go to the Icard farm at once; my happiness depends on it. +There is something there that I want to see to-morrow morning." + +The poor man did not understand, but he always yielded to her caprice. +They set out at once for the Chateau d'Avignon. + +They left the wagon at the chateau; they harnessed the best pair of +horses to the cabriolet, and made seven or eight leagues without +stopping. + +"Thanks, father. I must be here to-morrow morning. I will tell you +why----" + +It was eleven o'clock at night. + +When all were in bed, Livette, being familiar with "the place," which +her father had pointed out to her anew at her request,--Livette +furtively left the house to prowl about the spot where disaster +awaited her, for love knows no obstacles, and we follow our destiny +through everything, and rush on to death in pursuit of our last +sorrow. + +And then?--Ah! throughout the visions of her sick-bed Livette +constantly lived over that terrible moment when she was prowling +around the swamp. In truth, she was still there, in agony of mind. + +About the swamp, in the darkness, Livette hovered like a sea-gull in +distress. Like a lost soul from hell she flitted about the edges of +the bog, trying to pierce with her gaze the dark clumps of reeds and +tamarisks. + +From time to time, according to the spot from which she looked, she +could see the gray roof of the cabin, silvered by the moonlight. + +Was any one there? Had Rampal told her the truth? Ought she to lose +this opportunity of convincing herself with her own eyes of Renaud's +treachery? + +Should she give her life to a traitor without endeavoring to unmask +him, although warned? With her widely dilated eyes, she imagined that +she saw lights that did not exist; or--if she did really see a feeble +gleam through the chinks in the door--she refused to believe her eyes. + +The blood was tingling in her ears, and she thought she could hear +voices. It seemed to her at times as if her head were bursting. She +could see, inside her head, beneath her skull, a great white light, +and in the centre of the light Renaud and the gipsy together. Oh! to +think of not finding out! + +And, if it should be so, what should she do? + +The essential thing was to find out. Afterward, she would see. If she +were strong enough, if she could do it--she would certainly kill the +woman.--How? Livette did not know. Simply with a look, perhaps.--Madness +rises from the swamps with the miasmatic exhalations at night. Livette +felt that she was going mad. + +"How do you get to the cabin?" she had asked her father. + +Ah! yes, the path is marked by stakes, is it not? To the left of the +stakes is the path. She cannot see the tops of the stakes in the dark +water. Frogs were sitting on them, perhaps, to look at the moon; or +turtles on those that were just level with the surface. But no, it was +grass that covered them all. And Livette's eyes ached with her +endeavors to open them wider in the darkness, and find some sign upon +the indistinct objects about her. + +But suppose Rampal had deceived her? + +At one time, it seemed to her that she could hear something resembling +the gipsy music that made the snakes dance--but so weak! Surely it was +in her poor, tired head,--for if it had been the real music, all the +reptiles in the swamp would have come out to dance, all at once, in +the moonlight. + +Bah! Why should she be afraid? As if there were so very many of the +creatures in the country! They are not fond of the salt in the bogs, +nor the high winds. + +She hovered about the swamp like a sea-gull lost at sea! + +"Yes, yes, this is the way, here is the path under the water and the +stakes that mark it! I must keep the stakes at my right as I walk +along." + +She starts to take the first step, and dares not--but suddenly the +sound of voices comes to her ears. She distinguishes two +voices--two!--beyond any question. And now it is surely the metallic +sound of the tambourine that floats through the reeds in the +moonlight, bringing to her heart the frightful vision of the other's +joy! + +She will go. After all, since her unhappiness is certain, what matter +if she die of it! Ah! how bitter would be his punishment if, on coming +out, at daybreak, he should find her there, drowned! + +She makes a step; she sinks! but she does not cry out. No, she will +extricate herself unaided--she must. She clings to the long grass, to +the reeds which break in her hands. She is sinking! Ah! God! is she to +die there? They would be too well pleased, aye, both of them, to have +caused her death! Therefore she must not die! She will not! She +struggles, and sinks deeper. As she lifts one foot, she rests her +weight on the other, which goes down, down, and the ooze gains upon +her. It rises to her waist; and still she cannot refrain from raising +her feet, one after the other, as if to climb an imaginary stairway, +the solid ladder that she dreams of but cannot find! + +With every upward effort she sinks lower; it is horrible. Her hands +are so small that she does not grasp enough grass, enough reeds, at +once! Everything about her yields, everything fails to give support. +How the reeds break between her fingers! like grass threads! It seems +to her that clammy creatures are rubbing against her legs, her +hands--ah! yes, the snakes--the bloodsuckers! She will be eaten alive +by the bloodsuckers.--But where is the stake, near the edge of the +swamp, that she thought she saw a moment ago? She lets go the grass to +which she is clinging, with the result that she sinks deeper, still +deeper. Now the cold water submerges her bosom, surrounds her neck, +crawls up toward her mouth. Will she be compelled in a moment to drink +that filthy water? At that thought, she makes one final effort. Her +dishevelled locks cling about her neck, as if to strangle her, all +drenched and cold and slimy, like veritable snakes!--She struggles, +tosses her hands about this way and that--until one of them comes in +contact with the wooden stake, firmly planted in the ground.--Saintes +Maries!--She seizes it, twines her fingers about it, digs her nails +into it, and does not relax her hold. Nor will she, even when she is +dead! But her arm no longer has the strength to raise her, and her +head falls heavily back--her eyes close. Is this death?--It was at +that moment, just as she lost consciousness, that the brave-hearted +maid cried out,--not until then. And her cry rang out over the swamps, +like the call of the birds of passage, which ceaselessly, over all the +waters upon earth, seek the repose that can never be found. + +That ghastly vision recurred again and again to Livette, while the +women of the Icard farm were busying themselves, a little too noisily, +around her bed. At last, there was silence in her room. She saw her +father come in, but she did not choose to explain anything to him. She +sent word to the grandmother not to be anxious, that she would return +home in three days. Livette asked to see Renaud. Her father went to +find him. She closed her eyes. + +She fancied that she could remember, now, certain things that +happened to her during her sleep of death in the _gargate_, but were +not reproduced in her dream. She felt Renaud's arms lifting her out of +the mire, and that, after all, is the one thing to be desired, more +than life itself--the protection of the man she loved, her lover's +mourning for her, thinking that she was dead.--But before that, a +moment before, had she not felt the weight of a fixed gaze upon +her?--She had looked dimly forth between her drooping eyelids, through +her long lashes which seemed to her like a thick grating; and she +fancied that she saw the gipsy, the ill-omened gitana, standing before +her. "Yes, it is she, it is really she. She is standing here beside +me. She looks very, very tall. Her head touches the sky. She is on the +path leading to the cabin. She is just coming from the rendezvous. She +has been kissing Renaud! When will he come? Will the witch's black +shadow, standing so straight there, never go? What more do you want, +witch? Don't you see that I am dead? I must make you think I am dead. +Then you will leave me, at last!--The wicked woman is always smiling. +Ah! there she goes.--How heavy her glance was! And how tall she was! +She kept all the light from me. Now I can see the sky again. Is it +you, Renaud, is it you, Jacques, who take me in your arms as if I were +dead?--It is you, at last!" + +Thus cried poor Livette, delirious once more. But Renaud was sitting +beside her bed with his face in his hands, listening to her. + +"It is you," she went on; "you think me dead, and I can feel you take +me in your arms and quickly carry me away. But why do you not weep, +when you see me so? It is you, at last! I am dead, and still I feel +you. You have me in your arms. Your heart beats fast. Mine has ceased +to beat. Where were you, bad boy? What did you say to her? But that is +past and gone!--Is that woman very dear to your heart?--Why do you +come no more to my father's house in the evening? He is very fond of +you. Grandma is a dear old soul. Do you see how faithful she is to her +dead husband? People knew how to love one another better in her day, +she says. Is it true? Do you believe it, Jacques? And if I die, won't +you keep my memory sacred, as she keeps grandpa's?--Why do you make me +suffer so?--Are we two never to walk under the great elm again? Our +pretty stone bench under the rose-bushes is very sad now, and lonely +like a tombstone. Ah! if you had chosen! I was pretty, yes, pretty, +pretty! And now I shall be ugly. For I have done with life, even if I +am not dead. My life is at an end, at an end!" + + + + +XXV + +THE PHANTOM + + +Livette, who had been carried back to the Chateau d'Avignon many days +before, had not left her bed. The fever clung to her obstinately. +Nothing could be done. + +Was it really true, O God, that she was doomed to die, and he to see +it? Was he to lose the future he had dreamed of, a future of unruffled +happiness, of love and peace, as her husband; the joy he had known for +such a brief space, of having a woman, sweet and dear and helpless as +a child, to cherish and protect?--Was he condemned never to know the +pleasure of having a family--a pleasure that had been denied to him, +an orphan, and of which he had often dreamed as of one of the joys of +Paradise--was he condemned never to know it, because he had forgotten +his longing for a single day? The picture, dear to country-folk, of +the chimney with the smoke curling upward, that seems to say to them, +as far as it can be seen: "The soup is hot, the wife is waiting, the +children are calling," recurred sometimes to his mind, and he sighed +profoundly. + +The punishment that he saw coming upon him did not seem to him +proportionate to the offence. There was no justice in it! + +What is the meaning of that most terrible of all mysteries: that the +love of the senses is more powerful than the love of the heart when +separated from its object, even though the last be recognized as the +more certain and the sweeter? + +Between the lofty chapel and the subterranean crypt of the church of +Saintes-Maries-de-la-Mer, on the level of human life, does the miracle +come always from below? And if it be so, is it any less a miracle? +Which of you has fathomed the meaning of life? Who can say: "It is +unjust," or: "It is useless," or: "What I do not see does not exist"? +Who can say if Livette's sufferings and Renaud's, their troubles and +their heart-burnings, all the invisible and inexplicable movements +within themselves,--of which they knew nothing,--were not preparing +the way for realities inconceivable to our minds? The _ideal_, the +dream of what is best, is the essential condition of the _material_ +development of mankind. No force is wasted; everything is transformed. +"Everything is of some use," said the old shepherd Sigaud. "It takes +all kinds to make a world." + +Livette had forgiven Renaud, Renaud had not forgiven himself. + +Sometimes he gazed at her, deeply moved, and he suffered with her for +hours at a time. Sometimes he had sudden fits of rage against +her--paroxysms of wickedness, as it were. Was she not an obstacle in +his path? At such times, he believed that he was possessed by a devil, +and he would kneel by Livette's bed and pray to the saints, the women +of compassion. + +Ah! how thin she was! Her eyes seemed to have grown larger, and to +have changed from blue to black, because the pupils were still +dilated. Her long, fair hair no longer shone. It seemed as if the +muddy water of the swamp had taken away its gloss forever. + +She often started at noises that she imagined she heard. + +She, who in the old days used to talk but little, was constantly +telling of the things she had dreamed, and she would be vexed if they +were not remembered. + +The doctors of Arles tried everything. Nothing was of any avail. + +"I want no more of their medicine," she said one day to Renaud. "They +might do very well for swamp fever, but there is something else the +matter with me. It was my heart that you drowned. I never could +believe you again; it is much better that I should die." + +She had explained nothing to her father or grandmother. + +"They would have turned you out of the house," she said, "and I wanted +to see you to the end." + +Her journey to the Icard farm, her nocturnal flight, her accident, all +were attributed to an attack of fever, which was supposed to have been +responsible for her actions, whereas, on the contrary, her illness +was the result of them all. + +Renaud, by a desperate effort, mastered his passion at last. Was it +forever? He chose to think so, because it was necessary that it should +be so, in order to keep her alive. + +He tried not to think of the other. He tried to repent. Every moment +he tore from his mind by an exertion of his will--as he would tear up +grass with his hand--some one of his memories. He told amusing +stories, pretending to laugh loudest at them. + +His heart was filled with a great pity for Livette, but, for all that, +you would not have had to lift a very large stone to find there, in a +spot that he knew well, the sleeping viper. + +"I shall die, I shall die!"--Livette often said, "but I want to see +the fete of Saintes-Maries once more. I want to live till then. You +must carry me there and lay me on the relics; that is where I want to +die. And at my burial, I want the drovers, your comrades, to follow on +horseback--promise me this--with their spears reversed, like the +soldiers I saw at Avignon one day, marching to the cemetery, holding +their guns that way." + +With a sort of gaiety, she often recurred to the subject of her +burial, and embellished it with other details, saying, with the air of +a playful child: + +"There must be lilies, as there are in the procession at +Saintes-Maries when they go to bless the sea; I want lots of lilies! +Lilies are so pretty and white! they are so proud on their stalks, and +they smell so sweet!" + +Meanwhile, the season was hastening away; the months came and went, +like the same months in years past for centuries. + +Summer set the sky and land and sea ablaze, drawing the last drop of +moisture from the swamps, sowing the venomous seeds of miasma in the +heavy air that people breathed. The crops ripened; then came the +harvest. It was autumn. The redbreast sang in the park of the Chateau +d'Avignon. The nights grew long once more. The leaves fell. The sad +days of the year began. + +The buttercups had disappeared. The Vaccares, which had been dry all +summer, no longer exposed to the sun its lovely mouse-gray bed; it was +once more a sea. The light golden tint of the September sky was long +since hidden from sight behind the rising mists. + +The birds of passage began anew their flight over the mirror-like +island which promised them abundant prey. The eagle hurried from the +Alps to make war upon the fish-hawks. And at night, when the wind +howled and the rain fell in torrents, the storks and cranes and geese +passed over in triangular flocks, at a great height in the drenched +atmosphere, uttering cries like cries of alarm. + +Livette's suffering became more intense. She passed whole days sitting +at her window. + +One evening, Renaud was sitting beside her, in silence, while the +grandmother and Pere Audiffret were dining in the room below. The +room was dimly lighted by a lamp. Suddenly Livette sprang to her feet, +then fell back, crying: + +"There she is! there she is! No! no! don't go with her! I don't want +you to! no, no, Jacques!" + +Renaud also had risen, and was staring vacantly at Livette; following +the direction of her gaze, he began to tremble. Outside the window +stood a pale, uncertain, but very recognizable spectre, the gipsy +herself! He had no sooner recognized her than she disappeared, after +making a significant sign to him, that said: "Come!" + +It was not a vision of the sick girl's imagination, for he, too, had +seen it! + +Perhaps the fever-laden island had sown its poison in the blood of +both. The germs of fever were taking root and flourishing in them. The +blight of the _paluns_ implanted in their brains, as in a cloudy +mirror, the image everlastingly repeated of the familiar plaintive +objects of the desert, with which the current of their thoughts was +mingled. + +"Don't go! don't go! my Jacques!" + +She dragged herself along the floor on her knees, shaken with sobs, +imploring the drover, as she clung with both hands to his jacket. + +The father and grandmother had hastened to the room. + +The father, too, was sobbing, and knew not what to do. The grandmother +slowly seated herself by the bed on which Renaud had gently laid +Livette. + +Calm and silent, the old woman gazed long and with a beautiful +expression of perfect trust upon the copper crucifix and the images of +the saints that hung on the wall of the recess. + +And, on the bed, Livette, uttering cries like a lost bird, twining her +fingers about her as if clinging to life, to the reeds in the swamp +wherein she still fancied that she was drowning--Livette breathed her +last. + +Livette was dead. + +The drovers, on horseback, with spears reversed, attended her body to +the cemetery. Her favorite dog followed her thither. + +Renaud placed lilies on her grave. She sleeps in the cemetery of +Saintes-Maries, at the foot of the dunes, under the cultivated lilies, +among the wild asphodels, on the sea-shore. + +Renaud returned to the desert, too much like the bull that, when +wounded in the arena, returns to the solitude of the swamps, where he +can lick his wounds, give free vent to his rage, bellow at the clouds, +and to no purpose, but to his heart's content tear at the steel left +in the wound. + +One day they found, on the shore of the Vaccares, Rampal's bleeding +body, pierced by horns in two places. Bernard alone saw his duel with +Renaud one evening, when the sky was red with the afterglow. They +fought hand to hand, in the midst of the drove, and Renaud, lifting +his enemy from the ground in his arms, laid him face upward, dead, on +the horns of a heifer that came rushing at them and, with one motion +of her bulky head, tossed a corpse into the air. + +Rampal died without a cry. He lay three days where he fell. The black +bulls, that mourn nine days when one of their kind falls dead in the +pasture, bellowed for three days around Rampal's body, at a respectful +distance. + +Bernard alone saw the duel and said nothing; but the people of the +desert knew; they guessed the truth. + +Since that, Renaud has become like a phantom himself. + +In all weathers, summer or winter, rain or shine, he can be seen here +and there, in the Camargue desert, sitting erect and melancholy on his +horse, spear in hand. + +He regrets Livette. He loves Zinzara. He weeps only for himself, the +wretched creature! He has lost the paradise of affection he had +dreamed of, and the appetizing hell of savage love he had tasted. He +has nothing. It seems to him that Livette's death, for which he blames +himself, has left him free to abandon himself to his passion for the +other; but the other is absent--and, though absent, she tortures him +as relentlessly as on the day when, clinging to his horse's mane, she +defied him with insulting words, and aroused his passions, while he +dared not shake her off, trample upon her, or seize her. + +The memory of her is upon him like the gadfly that persists in +following back the bloody track of its sting. Vainly does he shake +himself; he cannot rid himself of it. Renaud loves Zinzara; he longs +for her without hope, and, ruled by that single desire, he feels no +other, so that the unexpended power of his youth accumulates within +him and drives him mad. + +The friends' houses, the fetes he used formerly to visit, have no +further interest for him, because the only being he seeks cannot be +found. The desert, once peopled with hopes in his eyes, has become an +empty void. The roads that traverse it no longer lead anywhere. + +He surprises himself sometimes, at night, bellowing with the bulls, +against the wind that annoys them, toward the distant horizon. He is +like one possessed. A devil dwells within him. + +When he is weary of wandering about and of being in the saddle, and +chooses to lie down and sleep for a day, he repairs to the cabin of +his love, in the _gargate_, and there, full sure of being undisturbed, +raves like a wild beast, in his frenzy at being alone. In the morning, +he emerges from his retreat, more depressed, more miserable, more +haunted with visions than ever. + +At times, he fancies that he sees Livette under his horse's feet, +imploring wildly, with hands outstretched--but he digs his spurs into +his horse and rides on. A terrible shriek constantly rings in his +ears. + +He rides toward another spectre that calls him from the farthest point +of the horizon.--He says, to any one who cares to listen, that he has +come from Egypt, where he was a king, and that he will return there +some day, King of Camargue. + +His disordered mind seems the very incarnation of the wild moor. He +fancies that he is flying about in circles with the birds of the +swamps that weep in the drizzling rain. The _mistral_ lashes his +wings. When the wind blows through his hair, he pities the poor grass +of the plains because the _mistral_ is torturing it. + +All the lamentations of the reeds and swamps, of the river and the +sea, are but the ringing in his ears, and their loud wailing is +constantly punctuated by a shriek--oh! so heart-rending it is!--the +shriek of Livette! + +As the bell-tower of the church of Saintes-Maries is filled with owls, +so his heart is full of the remorse of a Christian; and the cure's +kindness to him does not drive it away. + +When he stands upon the sea-shore, many times he feels an overpowering +desire to urge his horse, bleeding beneath the spur, far out to sea, +farther and farther, until he vanishes in the direction of the +country, vaguely seen in dreams, from which the saints and gipsies +come--but something stops him; his destiny holds him back; he belongs +to his kingdom. + +If he has known one hour's peace of mind, it was on a certain morning +when, among the usual hideous nightmares inspired by the memory of +Zinzara, he had a pleasant dream, in which he saw Livette, dressed in +white, with lilies in her hands like the saints in church pictures, +smiling and saying to him: "I have forgiven you. FORGIVE YOURSELF." + +The respite was of brief duration, for the herdsman did not know that +excessive repentance is a crime, when it goes so far as to dry up the +springs of will-power in a man, when it renders sterile his field of +activity, when it bars the way to doing better in the future. + +Self-pardon, at the proper time, after due penance has been done, is +one of the secrets of the wise among men; for, without it, the first +misstep would lead to never-ending despair, and would render all +courage useless forever. + +Such was the cure's opinion, which Renaud listened to, in the +confessional, without paying heed to it. + +He suffers, therefore, incessantly, awaiting the hour when his +suffering shall be allayed. He is like the camping-grounds abandoned +by shepherds and flocks, the _jasses_ of the desert, still black from +an old conflagration, and surrounded by briers where rose-bushes once +flourished. He is like the aloes that wither instantly in desolation, +after the stalk their love has caused to bloom has risen high into the +air. + +The dream in which Renaud saw Livette was explained to him several +times by Monsieur le cure, but always to no purpose. + +How, indeed, could his remorse cease, when his passion still endured, +and when he was constantly committing anew, in desire, the sin that +caused all the misery? + +My friends, there is but one wise course to pursue: "Plant a tree, +build a house, rear a child. Be patient--everything comes in due time. +The thing that does not happen in a hundred years, may happen in six +thousand. The future is still yours!" + +When Renaud, in the dreams of his unhealthy life, feels, as he +sometimes does, that his love is stronger in him than his passion, it +seems to him as if Livette were drawing him toward death, but +truthful, kindly beings never inspire thoughts of self-destruction. + +Of one thing, at least, he is certain. He feels that voluntary death +would not remove him from the circle of the accursed. He would, on the +contrary, descend still lower in the spiral pit of mortals damned by +love. + +They say that persons drowned in the Rhone, borne along without doubt +by the irresistible current, which brings them all together at the +mouth of the river, return, on certain evenings, to hold a carnival of +despair on the surface of the water. + +Happy are they since they are, on those occasions, united. + +But they who are drowned in stagnant waters, and they who, to join +them, die by their own hand, are never aught but solitary spectres. +They seek each other all the time, but always unavailingly. They are +the souls of the damned. They wander through the desert, calling to +one another; but never even approach or see one another; and at night, +in the deserts of Crau and Camargue, the traveller hears long-drawn, +wailing cries, flying unavailingly hither and thither over the vast +plains, forever and forever. + +Even the clouds call and answer one another in their aerial flight. + + + + +NOTES + + +[1] "Do not wear out your shoes on the hard roads; + Rather take boat and so descend the Rhone. + + "Leave Lyon and Valence behind; + Salute them with a nod as you pass beneath their bridges. + + "Avignon is the queen,--but pass her by as well; + Not till you come to Arles will you find your love---- + + "The plain is fair and broad, O comrade,---- + Take your love _en croupe_, and off you go!" + +[2] "On the bridge of Avignon every one must pay toll." + +[3] The name Vincent is pronounced very much like _vingt cent_, twenty +hundred, or two thousand. + +[4] "May this work of mine, begun in God's name, be constantly blessed +with the favor of Jesus Christ. May the Holy Spirit wisely guide my +hand, my pen, and my understanding." + +[5] What would the good cure have said had he been told that a +contemporary poet, Monsieur Pierre Gauthiez, has adopted the too +common error? According to him, an Egyptian Marie came to Camargue in +the boat with the saints.--When they approached the shore, it became +necessary to reward the devoted boatman who had helped them to +accomplish the prodigious journey. One of them gave him a sprig of +rosemary that had touched the lips of the Christ; another, a lock of +her fair hair. And as to the third-- + + "L'Egyptienne au doux oeil sombre, + Debout aupres d'un olivier, + Regarda le beau batelier. + + "Elle prit son voile de lin, + Et decouvrit sa chair de vierge + Pure et luisante, ainsi qu'un cierge, + Sous le soleil a son declin. + Elle fut toute nue, et comme + Sur le sable roux, le jeune homme + S'agenouillait, la levre en feu, + Tendant ses bras comme vers Dieu, + La sainte, sans robe ni voiles, + Pareille aux celestes etoiles, + Lui dit: 'Tu vois, mon batelier, + Je n'ai que Moi pour te payer!'" + +(Translation.) + +"The Egyptian of the soft dark eye, standing beside an olive-tree, +gazed upon the comely boatman. + +"She put aside her linen veil and discovered her virgin flesh, all +pure and glistening, like a wax taper, beneath the setting sun. She +was quite naked, and, as the young man knelt on the red sand, with +lips on fire, holding out his arms to her as if to God, the saint, +like the stars in heaven, wearing no gown or veil, said to him: 'Thou +seest, my boatman, I have naught but Myself wherewith to pay thee!'" + +[6] The spirit, indeed, is willing, but the flesh is weak. + +[7] The _tarasque_, perhaps, is nothing more than a reproduction of +the crocodile of the Rhone, increased in size to an absurd degree by +the popular imagination. This one, the last that was seen in Camargue, +so they say, is hanging to-day in the _Hopital des Antiquailles_ at +Lyon, with an inscription stating the source from whence it came: +"Gift of M. le Cure of Saintes-Maries-de-la-Mer." + +[8] _C'est le sort._--_Sort_ may mean _fate_, and it may also mean +_spell_, being used in the latter sense almost synonymously with +_sortilege_. It may also mean _chance_. + +[9] "When you were upon the great deep, without oars to row your boat, +Saintes Maries! Naught but the sea and sky about you--with all your +eyes you appealed to the verdant shore to be gentle." + +[10] "Beneath the sun, beneath the stars, with sails made of the gowns +you wore--Sail on, O ship!--seven days and nights you sailed and +sailed and saw no vessel, large or small--naught but the sea and the +great deep!" + +[11] "God, who makes of a lightning-flash His scourge, wherewith to +scourge the sky and sea, Saintes Maries! guided the bark to a safe +harbor--an angel, who appeared on board, pointed out the way to the +verdant shore." + +[12] "Kneeling before God's tabernacle, we, stained with sin from +birth, do invoke your power, for whom God performed this miracle--Holy +women, protect us!" + +[13] _Comment s'appelle ton chien?_--In common parlance--What is your +dog's name? The joke is lost unless it is translated literally. + + + + +Transcriber's Note + +Minor punctuation errors have been repaired. + +Hyphenation and accent usage has been made consistent. + +A single closing quote was omitted on page 7. The transcriber has +added one in what seemed the most appropriate place--"... 'Look! I am +dark, but I am beautiful! ... So be it!'" + +The following typographic errors have been fixed: + + Page 6--Carmargue amended to Camargue--"... this 'Chateau + d'Avignon,' the finest in all Camargue." + + Facing page 64 (illustration caption)--Renard's amended to + Renaud's--"... and pulled back with all her strength the + double rein of Renaud's horse, ..." + + Page 111--Moveover amended to Moreover--"Moreover, after the + harvest was gathered, ..." + + Page 300--house amended to horse--"... "we will ride + together till night. My horse has wings."" + +The frontispiece illustration and introductory front matter has been +moved to follow the title page. Other illustrations have been moved +where necessary so that they are not in the middle of a paragraph. + +The Table of contents has been added by the transcriber for the +convenience of the reader. + +The List of Illustrations has been moved from its original location on +page 349 to the beginning of the book. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of King of Camargue, by Jean Aicard + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK KING OF CAMARGUE *** + +***** This file should be named 33867.txt or 33867.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/3/8/6/33867/ + +Produced by Audrey Longhurst, Sam W. and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +http://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +http://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at http://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit http://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. +To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. |