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diff --git a/old/55282-0.txt b/old/55282-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 779092f..0000000 --- a/old/55282-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,21010 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of Work, by Émile Zola - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: Work - -Author: Émile Zola - -Translator: Ernest Alfred Vizetelly - -Release Date: August 6, 2017 [eBook #55282] -[Most recently updated: April 29, 2022] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -Produced by: Dagny and Marc D’Hooghe - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WORK *** - - - - -WORK - -[TRAVAIL] - -BY - -ÉMILE ZOLA - - -TRANSLATED BY - -ERNEST ALFRED VIZETELLY - - -LONDON - -CHATTO & WINDUS - -1901 - - - - -PREFACE - - -'Work' is the second book of the new series which M. Zola began with -'Fruitfulness,' and which he hopes to complete with 'Truth' and -'Justice.' I should much have liked to discuss here in some detail -several of the matters which M. Zola brings forward in this instalment -of his literary testament, but unfortunately the latter part of the -present translation has been made by me in the midst of great bodily -suffering, and I have not now the strength to do as I desired. I will -only say, therefore, that 'Work' embraces many features. It is, first, -an exposition of M. Zola's gospel of work, as the duty of every man -born into the world and the sovereign cure for many ills--a gospel -which he has set forth more than once in the course of his numerous -writings, and which will be found synthetised, so to say, in a paper -called 'Life and Labour' translated by me for the 'New Review' some -years ago.[1] Secondly, 'Work' deals with the present-day conditions -of society so far as those conditions are affected by Capital and -Labour. And, thirdly and particularly, it embraces a scheme of social -reorganisation and regeneration in which the ideas of Charles Fourier, -the eminent philosopher, are taken as a basis and broadened and adapted -to the needs of a new century. Some may regard this scheme as being -merely the splendid dream of a poet (the book certainly abounds -in symbolism), but all must admit that it is a scheme of _pacific_ -evolution, and therefore one to be preferred to the violent remedies -proposed by most Socialist schools. - -In this respect the book has a peculiar significance. Though the -English press pays very little attention to the matter, things are -moving apace in France. The quiet of that country is only surface-deep. -The Socialist schools are each day making more and more progress. -The very peasants are fast becoming Socialists, and, as I wrote -comparatively recently in my preface to the new English version of M. -Zola's 'Germinal,' the most serious troubles may almost at any moment -convulse the Republic. Thus it is well that M. Zola, who has always -been a fervent partisan of peace and human brotherliness, should be -found at such a juncture pointing out pacific courses to those who -believe that a bath of blood must necessarily precede all social -regeneration. - -Incidentally, in the course of his statements and arguments, M. Zola -brings forward some very interesting points. I would particularly refer -the reader to what he writes on the subject of education. Again, his -sketch of the unhappy French peasant of nowadays may be scanned with -advantage by those who foolishly believe that peasant to be one of the -most contented beings in the world. The contrary is unhappily the case, -the subdivision of the soil having reached such a point that the land -cannot be properly or profitably cultivated. After lasting a hundred -years, the order of things established in the French provinces by the -Great Revolution has utterly broken down. The economic conditions of -the world have changed, and the only hope for French agriculture rests -in farming on a huge scale. This the peasant, amidst his hard struggle -with pauperism, is now realising, and this it is which is fast making -him a Socialist. - -All that M. Zola writes in 'Work' on the subject of iron and steel -factories, and the progressive changes in processes and so forth, -will doubtless be read with interest at the present time, when -so much is being said and written about a certain large American -'trust.' The reliance which he places in Science--the great pacific -revolutionary--to effect the most advantageous changes in present-day -conditions of labour, is assuredly justified by facts. Personally, I -rely far more on science than on any innate spirit of brotherliness -between men, to bring about comparative happiness for the human race. - -In conclusion, I may point out that the tendency of M. Zola's book in -one respect is shown by the title chosen for the present translation. -The original is called 'Travail,' which might have been rendered in -English as either 'Labour' or 'Work.' We read every day about the -'labour world,' the 'conditions of labour,' the 'labour party,' and so -forth, and as these matters are largely dealt with by M. Zola, some may -think that 'Labour' would have been the better title for the English -version of his book. But then it is M. Zola's desire that man should -_labour_ no more; he does not wish him to groan beneath excessive -toil--he simply desires that he should _work_, in health and in gaiety, -with the help of science to lighten his task, and a just apportionment -of wealth and happiness to gild his days until he takes his rest. - - -E. A. V. - - -MERTON, SURREY: - -_April_ 1901. - - - -[1] _New Review_, No. 50, July, 1893. - - - - -WORK - - - -BOOK I - - - -I - - -As Luc Froment walked on at random after emerging from Beauclair, he -went up the Brias road, following the gorge in which the Mionne torrent -flows between the two promontories of the Bleuse Mountains. And when he -found himself before the Abyss, as the Qurignon steel-works are called -in the region, he perceived two dark and puny creatures shrinking -timidly against the parapet at the corner of the wooden bridge. His -heart contracted. One was a woman looking very young, poorly clad, her -head half hidden by some ragged woollen stuff; and the other, nestling -amidst her skirts, was a white-faced child, about six years old, and -scarcely clothed at all. Both had their eyes fixed on the door of the -works, and were waiting, motionless, with the mournful patience of -despairing beings. - -Luc paused and also looked. It would soon be six o'clock, and the light -of that wretched, muggy, mid-September evening was already waning. -It was a Saturday, and since Thursday the rain had scarcely ceased -to fall. It was no longer coming down at present, but across the sky -an impetuous wind was still driving a number of clouds, sooty ragged -clouds, athwart which filtered a dirty, yellowish twilight, full of -mortal sadness. Along the road over which stretched lines of rails, -and where big paving-stones were disjointed by continuous traffic, -there flowed a river of black mud, all the gathered moistened dust of -the neighbouring coal-works of Brias, whose tumbrels were for ever -going by. And that coal-dust had cast a blackness as of mourning over -the entire gorge; it fell in patches over the leprous pile of factory -buildings, and seemed even to besmirch those dark clouds which passed -on interminably like smoke. An ominous melancholy swept by with the -wind; one might have thought that the murky quivering twilight was -bringing the end of the world in its train. - -Luc had stopped short at a few paces from the young woman and the boy, -and he heard the latter saying with a shrewd decisive air, like one who -was already a little man: 'I say, _ma grande_,[1] would you like me to -speak to him? P'r'aps he wouldn't get so angry with me.' - -But the young woman replied: 'No, no, _frérot_, those are not matters -for little boys.' - -Then again they continued waiting in silence, with an air of anxious -resignation. - -Luc was now looking at the Abyss. From professional curiosity he -had visited it when first passing through Beauclair the previous -spring. And during the few hours that he had again found himself in -the district, suddenly summoned thither by his friend Jordan, he had -heard through what a frightful crisis the region had just passed. -There had been a terrible strike of two months' duration, and ruin was -piled up on either side. The establishment had greatly suffered from -the stoppage of work, and the workmen, their rage increased by their -powerlessness, had almost starved. It was only two days previously, on -the Thursday, that work had been resumed after reciprocal concessions, -wrung from either party with the greatest difficulty after the most -furious wrangling. And the men had gone back like joyless, vanquished -beings enraged by defeat, retaining in their hearts only a recollection -of their sufferings and a keen desire for revenge. - -Under the wild flight of the mourning clouds the Abyss spread its -sombre piles of buildings and sheds. It was like a monster which had -sprung up there, extending by degrees the roofs of its little town. -One could guess the ages of the various structures by the colour -of those roofs which arose and spread out in every direction. The -establishment now occupied a surface of many acres and employed a -thousand hands. The lofty, bluish, slated roofs of the great halls with -coupled windows, overtopped the old blackened tiles of the earlier -buildings, which were far more humble. Up above one perceived from the -road the gigantic hives of the cementing-furnaces, ranged in a row, -as well as the tempering tower, seventy-eight feet high, where big -cannon were plunged on end into baths of petroleum. And higher still -ascended smoking chimneys, chimneys of all sizes, a very forest, whose -sooty breath mingled with the flying soot of the clouds, whilst at -regular intervals narrow blast-pipes, with strident respiration, threw -out white plumes of steam. All this seemed like the breathing of the -monster. The dust, the vapour that it incessantly exhaled, enveloped -it as in an everlasting cloud of the perspiration of toil. And there -was also the beating of its organs, the impact, the noise of its every -effort: the vibration of machinery, the clear cadence of helve-hammers, -the great rhythmical blows of steam-hammers resounding like huge bells -and making the soil shake. And at the edge of the road, in the depths -of a little building, where the first Qurignon had first forged iron, -one could hear the violent, desperate dance of two tilt-hammers which -were beating there like the very pulse of the colossus, every one of -whose life-devouring furnaces flamed afresh. - -In the ruddy and dismal crepuscular mist which was gradually submerging -the Abyss, not a single electric lamp as yet lighted up the yards. Nor -was there any light gleaming through the dusty windows. Alone, through -the gaping doorway of one of the large halls, there burst a vivid flame -which transpierced the gloom with a long jet of light, like that of -some fusing star. A master puddler had doubtless opened the door of -his furnace. And nothing else, not even a stray spark, proclaimed the -presence of the empire of fire, the fire roaring within that darkened -city of toil, the internal fire which heated the whole of it, the -trained, subjected fire which bent and fashioned iron like soft wax, -and which had given man royalty over the earth ever since the first -Vulcans had conquered it. - -At last the clock in the little belfry surmounting the offices struck -six o'clock. And Luc then again heard the poor child saying: 'Listen, -_ma grande_, they will be coming out now.' - -'Yes, yes, I know well enough,' the young woman answered. 'Just you -keep quiet.' - -As she moved forward to restrain the child, her ragged wrapper fell -back slightly from before her face, and Luc remarked the delicacy of -her features with surprise. She was surely less than twenty. She had -fair hair all in disorder, a poor, thin little face which to him seemed -ugly, blue eyes blurred by tears, and a pale mouth that twitched -bitterly with suffering. And what a light, girlish frame there was -within her old threadbare dress! And with what a weak and trembling -arm did she press to her skirts the child, her little brother, who was -fair like herself and equally ill-combed, but stronger-looking and -more resolute! Luc felt his compassion increasing, whilst the two poor -creatures on their side grew distrustfully anxious about that gentleman -who had stopped so near, and was examining them so persistently. She, -in particular, seemed embarrassed by the scrutiny of that young fellow -of five-and-twenty, so tall and handsome, with square-set shoulders, -broad hands and a face all health and joy, whose firmly-marked features -were o'ertopped by a straight and towering brow, the towering brow of -the Froment family. She had averted her gaze as it met the young man's -brown eyes, which looked her frankly in the face. Then she once more -stole a furtive glance, and seeing that he was smiling at her in a -kindly way, she drew back a little more, in the disquietude born of her -great distress. - -The clang of a bell was heard, there was a stir in the Abyss, and then -began the departure of the day-shifts which the night-shifts were about -to replace; for never is there a pause in the monster's devouring life; -it flames and forges both by day and night. Nevertheless there was some -delay in the departure of the day-hands. Although work had only been -resumed on the Thursday, most of them had applied for an advance, for -after that terrible strike of two months' duration great was the hunger -in every home. At last they began to appear, coming along one by one -or in little parties, all gloomy and in a hurry, with their heads bent -whilst in the depths of their pockets they stowed away their few dearly -earned silver coins which would procure a little bread for wife and -children. And in turn they disappeared along the black highway. - -'There he is, _ma grande_,' the little boy muttered. 'Can't you see -him? He's with Bourron.' - -'Yes, yes; keep quiet.' - -Two men, two puddlers, had just left the works. The first, who was -accompanied by Bourron, had a cloth jacket thrown over his shoulders. -He was barely six-and-twenty; his hair and beard were ruddy, and he was -rather short, though his muscles were strong. Under a prominent brow he -showed a hook nose, massive jaws, and projecting cheek-bones, yet he -could laugh in a very agreeable way, which largely accounted for his -success with women. Bourron, five years the elder, and closely buttoned -in an old jacket of greenish velveteen, was a tall, dry, scraggy -fellow, whose equine face, with long cheeks, short chin, and eyes set -almost sideways, expressed the quiet nature of a man who takes life -easily, and is always under the influence of one or another mate. - -Bourron had caught sight of the mournful woman and child standing -across the road at the corner of the wooden bridge, and, nudging his -companion with his elbow, he exclaimed: 'I say, Ragu, Josine and Nanet -are yonder. Be careful if you don't want them to pester you.' - -Ragu ragefully clenched his fists. 'The ---- girl! I've had enough of -her, I've turned her out! Just let her try to come dangling after me -again and you'll see!' - -He seemed to be slightly intoxicated, as always happened indeed on -those days when he exceeded the three quarts of wine which he declared -he needed to prevent the heat of the furnace from drying up his skin. -And in his semi-intoxication he yielded the more especially to a cruel -boastful impulse to show his mate how he treated girls when he no -longer cared for them. - -'I shall send her packing,' said he, 'I've had enough of her.' - -With Nanet still among her skirts Josine was now gently, timidly, -stepping forward. But she paused on seeing two other workmen approach -Ragu and Bourron. They belonged to a night-shift, and had just arrived -from Beauclair. Fauchard, the eldest, a man of thirty, looking quite -ten years older, was a drawer, and seemed already 'done for' by his -terrible work. His face had the appearance of boiled flesh, his eyes -were scorched, the whole of his big frame burnt and warped by the -ardent glow of the furnaces when he drew out the fusing metal. The -other, his brother-in-law Fortuné, was a lad of sixteen, though he -would hardly have been thought twelve, so puny was his frame. He had a -thin face and discoloured hair, and looked as if he had ceased growing, -as if, indeed, he were eaten into by the mechanical toil which he ever -performed, perched beside the lever of a helve-hammer amidst all the -bewilderment born of blinding steam and deafening noise. - -On his arm Fauchard carried an old black osier basket, and he had -stopped to ask the others in a husky voice: 'Did you go?' - -He wished to ascertain if they had gone to the cashier's office and -obtained an advance there. And when Ragu, without a word, slapped -his pocket in which some five-franc pieces jingled, the other made a -despairing gesture and exclaimed: 'Thunder! To think that I've got to -tighten my belt until to-morrow morning, and that I shall be dying of -thirst all night unless my wife by some miracle or other contrives to -bring me my ration by-and-by.' - -His ration was four quarts of wine for each day or night-shift, and -he was wont to say that this quantity only just sufficed to moisten -his body, to such a degree did the furnaces drain all the blood and -water from his flesh. He cast a mournful glance at his basket, in which -nothing save a hunk of bread was jolting. The failure to secure his -usual four quarts of wine meant the end of everything, black agony -amidst overpowering unbearable toil. - -'Bah!' said Bourron complacently, 'your wife won't leave you in the -lurch; she hasn't her equal for getting credit somewhere.' - -Then, all at once, the four men standing in the sticky mud became -silent and touched their caps. Luc had seen a kind of bath-chair -approaching, propelled by a servant; and ensconced within it sat an -old gentleman with a broad face and regular features around which -fell an abundance of long white hair. In this old gentleman the young -fellow recognised Jérôme Qurignon, 'Monsieur Jérôme' as he was called -throughout the region, the son of Blaise Qurignon, the drawer, by whom -the Abyss had been founded. Very aged and paralysed, never speaking, -Monsieur Jérôme caused himself to be carted about in this fashion, no -matter what might be the weather. - -That evening, as he passed the works on his way back to his daughter's -residence, La Guerdache, a neighbouring estate, he had signed to his -servant to go more slowly, and with his still bright, living eyes he -had then taken a long look at the ever-busy monster, at the day hands -departing homeward, and at the night hands arriving, whilst the vague -twilight fell from the livid sky besmirched by rushing clouds. And -his glance had afterwards rested on the manager's house, a square -building standing in a garden, which his father had erected forty years -previously, and where he himself had long reigned like a conquering -king, gaining million after million. - -'Monsieur Jérôme isn't bothered as to how he will get any wine -to-night,' resumed Bourron in a sneering whisper. - -Ragu shrugged his shoulders: 'My great-grandfather and Monsieur -Jérôme's father,' said he, 'were comrades. Yes, they were both workmen -and drew iron here together. The fortune might have come to a Ragu -just as well as to a Qurignon. It's all luck, you know, when it isn't -robbery.' - -'Be quiet,' Bourron muttered, 'you'll be getting into trouble.' - -Ragu's bounce deserted him, and when Monsieur Jérôme, passing the -group, looked at the four men with his large, fixed, limpid eyes, he -again touched his cap with all the timorous respect of a toiler who -is ready enough to cry out against employers behind their backs, but -has long years of slavery in his blood and trembles in the presence of -the sovereign god from whom he awaits the bread of life. The servant -meanwhile slowly pushed the bath-chair onward, and Monsieur Jérôme -disappeared at last down the black road descending towards Beauclair. - -'Bah!' said Fauchard philosophically by way of conclusion, 'he's not -so happy after all, in that wheelbarrow of his. And besides, if he can -still understand things, that strike can't have been very pleasant to -him. We each have our troubles. But thunder! I only hope that Natalie -will bring me my wine.' - -Then he went off into the works, taking with him little Fortuné, who -had not spoken a word, and looked as bewildered as ever. Already -feeling weary, they disappeared amidst the increasing darkness which -was enveloping the buildings; whilst Ragu and Bourron set out again, -the former bent on leading the latter astray, to some tavern in the -town. But then, dash it all, a man surely had a right to drink a glass -and laugh a bit after undergoing so much misery! - -However, Luc, who, from compassionate curiosity had remained leaning -against the parapet of the bridge, saw Josine again advance with -short unsteady steps to bar the way to Ragu. For a moment she had -hoped that he would cross the bridge homeward bound, for that was the -direct road to Old Beauclair, a sordid mass of hovels in which most -of the workpeople of the Abyss lived. But when she understood that he -was going down to the new town, she foresaw what would happen: the -money he had obtained would be spent in some wine-shop, and she and -her little brother would have to spend another whole evening waiting, -dying of starvation, amidst the bitter wind in the streets. And her -sufferings and a fit of sudden anger lent her so much courage that, -puny and woeful though she was, she went and took her stand before the -man. - -'Be reasonable, Auguste,' said she; 'you can't leave me out-of-doors.' - -He did not answer, but stepped on in order to pass her. - -'If you are not going home at once, give me the key, at any rate,' she -continued. 'We've been in the street ever since this morning, without -even a morsel of bread to eat.' - -At this he burst forth: 'Just let me be! Haven't you done sticking to -me like a leech?' - -'Why did you carry off the key this morning?' she answered. 'I only ask -you to give me the key, you can come in when you like. It is almost -night now, and you surely don't want us to sleep on the pavement.' - -'The key! the key! I haven't got it, and even if I had I wouldn't give -it you. Just understand, once for all, that I've had enough of it, that -I don't want to have anything more to do with you, that it's quite -enough that we starved together for two months, and that now you can go -somewhere else, and see if I'm there!' - -He shouted those words in her face, violently and savagely; and she, -poor little creature, quivered beneath his insults, whilst gently -persevering in her efforts with all the woeful desperation of a wretch -who feels the very ground giving way beneath her. - -'Oh! you are cruel! you are cruel!' she gasped. 'We'll have a talk when -you come home to-night. I'll go away to-morrow if it's necessary. But -to-day, give me the key just for to-day.' - -Then the man, infuriated, pushed her, thrust her aside with a brutal -gesture. 'Curse it all!' he cried, 'doesn't the road belong to me as -much as you? Go and croak wherever you like! I tell you that it's all -over.' And as little Nanet, seeing his sister sob, stepped forward -with his air of decision, his pink face and tangle of fair hair, Ragu -added: 'What! the brat as well! Am I to have the whole family on my -shoulders now? Wait a minute, you young rascal; I'll let you feel my -boot somewhere.' - -Josine quickly drew Nanet towards her. And they both remained there, -standing in the black mud, shivering with woe, whilst the two workmen -went their way, disappearing amidst the gloom in the direction of -Beauclair, whose lights, one by one, were now beginning to shine. -Bourron, who at bottom was a good-natured fellow, had made a movement -as if to intervene; then, however, in a spirit of imitation, yielding -to the influence of his rakish companion, he had let things take -their course. And Josine, after momentarily hesitating, asking what -use it would be to follow, made up her mind to do so with despairing -stubbornness as soon as the others had disappeared. With slow steps she -descended the road in their wake, dragging her little brother by the -hand, and keeping very close to the walls, taking indeed all sorts of -precautions, as if she feared that on seeing her they might beat her to -prevent her from dogging their steps. - -Luc, in his indignation, had almost rushed on Ragu to administer a -correction to him. Ah! the misery of labour!--man turned to a wolf -by overpowering and unjust toil, by the difficulty of earning the -bread for which hunger so wildly contends! During those two months of -the strike, crumbs had been fought for amidst all the voracity and -exasperation of daily quarrels. Then, on the very first pay-day, the -man rushed to Drink for forgetfulness, leaving his companion of woe, -whether she were his wife or a girl he had seduced, in the streets! -And Luc remembered the four years which he had lately spent in a -faubourg of Paris, in one of those huge, poison-reeking buildings where -the misery of the working classes sobs and fights upon every floor! -How many tragedies had he not witnessed, how many sorrows had he not -attempted to assuage! The frightful problem born of all the shame and -torture attending the wage system had often arisen before his mind; -he had fully sounded that system's atrocious iniquity, the horrible -sore which is eating away present-day society, and he had spent hours -of generous enthusiasm in dreaming of a remedy, ever encountering, -however, the iron wall of existing reality. And now, on the very -evening of his return to Beauclair, he came upon that savage scene, -that pale and mournful creature cast starving into the streets through -the fault of the all-devouring monster, whose internal fire he could -ever hear growling, whilst overhead it escaped in murky smoke rolling -away under the tragic sky. - -A gust of wind passed, and a few rain-drops flew by in the moaning -wind. Luc had remained on the bridge, looking towards Beauclair -and trying to take his bearings by the last gleams of light that -fell athwart the sooty clouds. On his right was the Abyss, with its -buildings bordering the Brias road; beneath him rolled the Mionne, -whilst higher up, along an embankment on the left, passed the railway -line from Brias to Magnolles. These filled the depths of the gorge, -between the last spurs of the Bleuse Mountains, at the spot where -they parted to disclose the great plain of La Roumagne. And in a kind -of estuary, at the spot where the ravine debouched into the plain, -Beauclair reared its houses: a wretched collection of working-class -dwellings, prolonged over the flat by a little middle-class town, in -which were the sub-prefecture, the town-hall, the law-courts, and the -prison, whilst the ancient church, whose walls threatened to fall, -stood part in new and part in old Beauclair. This town, the chief one -of an arrondissement,[2] numbered barely six thousand souls, five -thousand of them being poor humble souls in suffering bodies, warped, -ground to death by iniquitous hard toil. And Luc took in everything -fully when, above the Abyss, half-way up the promontory of the Bleuse -Mountains, he distinguished the dark silhouette of the blast furnace of -La Crêcherie. Labour! labour! ah! who would redeem and reorganise it -according to the natural law of truth and equity so as to restore to it -its position as the most noble, all-regulating, all-powerful force of -the world, and so as to ensure a just division of the world's riches, -thereby at last bringing the happiness which is rightly due to every -man! - -Although the rain had again ceased Luc also ended by going down towards -Beauclair. Workmen were still leaving the Abyss, and he walked among -them as they tramped on, thinking of that rageful resumption of work -after all the disasters of the strike. Such infinite sadness born -of rebellion and powerlessness pervaded the young man that he would -have gone away that evening, indeed that moment, had he not feared -to inconvenience his friend Jordan. The latter--the master of La -Crêcherie--had been placed in a position of great embarrassment by the -sudden death of the old engineer who had managed his smeltery, and he -had written to Luc, asking him to come, inquire into things, and give -him some good advice. Then, the young man, on hastening to Beauclair -in an affectionate spirit, had found another letter awaiting him, a -letter in which Jordan announced a family catastrophe, the sudden, -tragical death of a cousin at Cannes, which obliged him to leave at -once and remain absent with his sister for three days. He begged Luc -to wait for them until Monday evening, and to instal himself meanwhile -in a pavilion which he placed at his disposal, and where he might make -himself fully at home. Thus Luc still had another two days to waste, -and for lack of other occupation, cast as he was in that little town -which he scarcely knew, he had gone that evening for a ramble, telling -the servant who waited on him that he should not even return to dinner. -Passionately interested as he was in popular manners and customs, fond -of observing and learning, he felt that he could get something to eat -in any tavern of the town. - -New thoughts came upon him, whilst under the wild tempestuous sky -he walked on through the black mud amidst the heavy tramping of the -harassed, silent workmen. He felt ashamed of his previous sentimental -weakness. Why should he go off, when here again he once more found, so -poignant and so keen, the problem by which he was ever haunted? He must -not flee the fight, he must gather facts together, and, perhaps, amidst -the dim confusion in which he was still seeking a solution, he might -at last discover the safe, sure path that led to it. A son of Pierre -and Marie Froment, he had learnt, like his brothers Mathieu, Marc and -Jean, a manual calling apart from the special study which he had made -of engineering. He was a stone-cutter, a house-builder, and having a -taste for that avocation, fond of working at times in the great Paris -building-yards, he was familiar with the tragedies of the present-day -labour-world, and dreamt, in a fraternal spirit, of helping on the -peaceful triumph of the labour-world of to-morrow. But what could he -do, in which direction should he make an effort, by what reform should -he begin, how was he to bring forth the solution which he felt to be -vaguely palpitating within him? Taller and stronger than his brother -Mathieu, with the open face of a man of action, a towering brow, a -lofty mind ever in travail, he had hitherto embraced but the void with -those big arms of his which were so impatient to create and build. But -again a sudden gust of wind sped by, a hurricane blast, which made -him quiver as with awe. Was it in some Messiah-like capacity that -an unknown force had cast him into that woeful region to fulfil the -long-dreamt-of mission of deliverance and happiness? - -When Luc, raising his head, freed himself of those vague reflections, -he perceived that he had come back to Beauclair again. Four large -streets, meeting at a central square, the Place de la Mairie, divide -the town into four more or less equal portions; and each of these -streets bears the name of some neighbouring town towards which it -leads. On the north is the Rue de Brias, on the west the Rue de -Saint-Cron, on the east the Rue de Magnolles, and on the south the -Rue de Formerie. The most popular, the most bustling of all--with its -many shops stocked to overflowing--is the Rue de Brias, in which Luc -at present found himself. For in that direction lie all the factories, -from which a dark stream of toilers pours whenever leaving-off time -comes round. Just as Luc arrived, the great door of the Gourier -boot-works, belonging to the Mayor of Beauclair, opened, and away -rushed its five hundred hands, amongst whom were numbered more than two -hundred women and children. Then, in some of the neighbouring streets, -were Chodorge's works, where only nails were made; Hausser's works, -which turned out more than a hundred thousand scythes and sickles -every year, and Mirande's works, which more particularly supplied -agricultural machinery. - -They had all suffered from the strike at the Abyss, where they supplied -themselves with raw material, iron and steel. Distress and hunger had -passed over every one of them, the wan, thin workers who poured from -them on to the muddy paving-stones had rancour in their eyes and mute -revolt upon their lips, although they showed the seeming resignation of -a hurrying, tramping flock. Under the few lamps, whose yellow flames -flickered in the wind, the street was black with toilers homeward -bound. And the block in the circulation was increased by a number of -housewives who, having at last secured a few coppers to spend, were -hastening to one or another shop to treat themselves to a big loaf or a -little meat. - -It seemed to Luc as if he were in some town, the siege of which had -been raised that very evening. Hither and thither among the crowd -walked gendarmes, quite a number of armed men, who kept a close watch -on the inhabitants, as if from fear of a resumption of hostilities, -some sudden fury arising from galling sufferings, whence might come -the sack of the town in a supreme impulse of destructive exasperation. -No doubt the masters, the _bourgeois_ authorities, had overcome the -wage-earners, but the overpowered slaves still remained so threatening -in their passive silence that the atmosphere reeked of bitterness, -and one felt a dread of vengeance, of the possibility of some great -massacre, sweeping by. A vague growl came from that beaten, powerless -flock, filing along the street; and the glitter of a weapon, the silver -braid of a uniform shining here and there among the groups, testified -to the unacknowledged fear of the employers, who, despite their -victory, were bursting into perspiration behind the thick, carefully -drawn curtains of their pleasure houses; whilst the black crowd of -starveling toilers still and ever went by with lowered heads, hustling -one another in silence. - -Whilst continuing his ramble Luc mingled with the groups, paused, -listened, and studied things. In this wise he halted before a large -butcher's shop open on the street, where several gas-jets were flaring -amidst ruddy meat. Dacheux, the master butcher, a fat apoplectical man, -with big goggle eyes set in a short red face, stood on the threshold -keeping watch over his viands, evincing the while much politeness -towards the servants of well-to-do customers, and becoming extremely -suspicious directly any poor housewife came in. For the last few -minutes he had kept his eyes upon a tall slim blonde, pale, sickly, -and wretched, whose youthful good looks had already faded, and who, -whilst dragging with her a fine child between four and five years old, -carried upon one arm a heavy basket, whence protruded the necks of -four quart-bottles of wine. In this woman Dacheux had recognised La -Fauchard, whose constant appeals for little credits he was tired of -discouraging. And as she made up her mind to go in, he all but barred -the way. - -'What do you want again, you?' he asked. - -'Monsieur Dacheux,' stammered Natalie, 'if you would only be so -kind--my husband has gone back to the works you know, and will receive -something on account to-morrow. And so Monsieur Caffiaux was good -enough to advance me the four quarts I have here, and would you be so -kind, Monsieur Dacheux, as to advance me a little meat, just a little -bit of meat?' - -At this the butcher became furious, his blood rushed to his face, and -he bellowed: 'No, I've told you no before! That strike of yours nearly -ruined me! How can you think me fool enough to be on your side? There -will always be enough lazy workmen to prevent honest folk from doing -business. When people don't work enough to eat meat, they go without -it!' - -He busied himself with politics, and like a narrow-minded hot-tempered -man, one who was greatly feared, he was on the side of the rich and -powerful. On his lips the word 'meat' assumed aristocratic importance: -meat was sacred, it was a luxury reserved to the happy ones of the -earth, when it ought to have belonged to all. - -'You owe me four francs from last summer,' he resumed; 'I have to pay -people, I have!' - -At this Natalie almost collapsed, then she again strove to touch him, -pleading in a low prayerful voice. But an incident which occurred -just then completed her discomfiture. Madame Dacheux, an ugly, dark, -insignificant-looking little woman, who none the less contrived to -make her husband the talk of the town, stepped forward with her little -daughter Julienne, a child of four, plump, healthy, fair, and full of -gaiety. And the two children having caught sight of one another, little -Louis Fauchard, despite all his wretchedness, began to laugh, whilst -the buxom Julienne, feeling amused, and doubtless as yet unconscious of -social inequalities, drew near and took hold of his hands. In such wise -that there was sudden play, fraught with childish delight, as at the -prospect of some future reconciliation of the classes. - -'The little nuisance!' cried Dacheux, who had quite lost his temper. -'She's always getting between my legs. Go and sit down at once!' - -Then, turning his wrath upon his wife, he roughly sent her back to the -cash desk, saying that the best thing she could do was to keep an eye -on the till, so that she might not be robbed again, as she had been -robbed only two days previously. And, haunted as he was by that theft, -of which he had never ceased to complain with the greatest indignation -during the last forty-eight hours, he went on, addressing himself to -all the people in the shop: 'Yes, indeed, some kind of beggar woman -crept in and took five francs out of the till whilst Madame Dacheux -was looking to see if the flies laughed. She wasn't able to deny it, -she still had the money in her hand. Oh! I had her taken into custody -at once. She's at the gaol. It is frightful, frightful; we shall be -utterly robbed and plundered soon if we don't keep our eyes open.' - -Then with suspicious glances he again watched his meat to make sure -that no starving wretches, no workwomen out of work, should carry -any pieces away from the show outside, even as they might carry away -precious gold, divine gold, from the bowls in the windows of the -money-changers' shops. - -Luc saw La Fauchard grow alarmed and retire; she feared, no doubt, that -the butcher might summon a gendarme. For a moment she and her little -Louis remained motionless in the middle of the street, amidst all the -jostling, their faces turned the while towards a fine baker's shop, -decorated with mirrors and gaily lighted up, which faced the butcher's -establishment. In one of its windows, which was open, numerous cakes -and large loaves with a crust of a golden hue were freely displayed -under the noses of the passers-by. Before those loaves and cakes -lingered the mother and the child, deep in contemplation. And Luc, -forgetting them, became interested in what was taking place inside the -shop. - -A cart had just stopped at the door, and a peasant had alighted from -it with a little boy about eight years old and a girl of six. At -the counter stood the baker's wife, the beautiful Madame Mitaine, a -strongly-built blonde who at five-and-thirty had remained superb. The -whole district had been in love with her, but she had never ceased to -be faithful to her husband, a thin, silent, cadaverous-looking man who -was seldom seen, for he was almost always busy at his kneading trough -or his oven. On the bench near his wife sat their son, Évariste, a -lad of ten, who was already tall, fair, too, like his mother, with an -amiable face and soft eyes. - -'What, is it you, Monsieur Lenfant!' said Madame Mitaine. 'How do you -do? And there's your Arsène, and your Olympe. I need not ask you if -they are in good health.' - -The peasant was a man in the thirties, with a broad sedate face. He did -not hurry, but ended by answering in his thoughtful way, 'Yes, yes, -their health is good; one doesn't get along so badly at Les Combettes. -The soil's the most poorly. I shan't be able to let you have the bran I -promised you, Madame Mitaine. It all miscarried. And as I had to come -to Beauclair this evening with the cart, I thought I'd let you know.' - -He went on giving expression to all his rancour against the ungrateful -earth, which no longer fed the toiler, nor even paid for sowing and -manuring. And the beautiful Madame Mitaine gently nodded her head. -It was quite true. One had to work a great deal nowadays to reap but -little satisfaction. Few were able to satisfy their hunger. She did not -busy herself with politics, but, _mon Dieu_, things were really taking -a very bad turn. During that strike, for instance, her heart had almost -burst at the thought that a great many poor people went to bed without -even a crust to eat when her shop was full of loaves. But trade was -trade, was it not? One could not give one's goods away for nothing, -particularly as in doing so one might seem to be encouraging rebellion. - -And Lenfant approved her. 'Yes, yes,' said he, 'everyone his own. It's -only fair that one should get profit from things when one has taken -trouble with them. But all the same there are some who want to make too -much profit.' - -Évariste, interested by the sight of Arsène and Olympe, had made up his -mind to quit the counter and do them the honours of the shop. And like -a big boy of ten he smiled complaisantly at the little girl of six, -whose big round head and gay expression probably amused him. - -'Give them each a little cake,' said beautiful Madame Mitaine, who -greatly spoilt her son, and was bringing him up to kindly ways. - -And then, as Évariste began by giving a cake to Arsène, she protested -jestingly: 'But you must be gallant, my dear. One ought to begin with -the ladies!' - -At this Évariste and Olympe, all confusion, began to laugh, and -promptly became friends. Ah! the dear little ones, they constitute the -best part of life. If some day they were minded to be wise they would -not devour one another as do the folk of to-day. And Lenfant went off, -saying that he hoped to be able to bring some bran after all, but, of -course, later on. - -Madame Mitaine, who had accompanied him to her door, watched him climb -into his cart and drive down the Rue de Brias. And at this moment -Luc noticed Madame Fauchard dragging her little Louis with her, and -suddenly making up her mind to approach the baker's wife. She spoke -some words which Luc did not catch, a request no doubt for further -credit, for beautiful Madame Mitaine, with a gesture of consent, -immediately went into her shop again, and gave her a large loaf, which -the poor creature hastened to carry away, close-pressed to her scraggy -bosom. - -Dacheux, amidst his suspicious exasperation, had watched the scene from -the opposite foot pavement. 'You'll get yourself robbed!' he cried. -'Some boxes of sardines have just been stolen at Caffiaux's. They are -stealing everywhere!' - -'Bah!' gaily answered Madame Mitaine, who had returned to the threshold -of her shop. 'They only steal from the rich!' - -Luc slowly went down the Rue de Brias amidst the flocklike tramping -which ever and ever increased. It now seemed to him as if a Terror were -sweeping by, as if some gust of violence were about to transport that -gloomy, silent throng. Then, as he reached the Place de la Mairie, he -again saw Lenfant's cart, this time standing at the street corner, in -front of some large ironmongery stores, kept by the Laboques, husband -and wife. The doors of the establishment were wide open, and he heard -some violent bartering going on between the peasant and the ironmonger. - -'Good heavens! why, you charge as much for your spades as if they were -made of gold! Why, for this one you ask two francs more than usual.' - -'But, Monsieur Lenfant, there has been that cursed strike. It isn't our -fault if the factories haven't worked and if everything has gone up in -price. I pay more for all metal goods, and, of course, I have to make a -profit.' - -'Make a profit, yes, but not double prices. Ah! you do drive a trade! -It will soon be impossible to buy a single tool.' - -Laboque was a short, thin, wizened man, extremely active, with a -ferret's snout and eyes; and he had a wife of his own size, a quick, -dusky creature, whose keenness in money-earning was prodigious. They -had both begun life at the fairs, dragging with them a hand-cart full -of picks, rakes, and saws, which they hawked around. And having opened -a little shop at Beauclair ten years back, they had managed to enlarge -it each succeeding twelvemonth, and were now at the head of a very -important business as middle-men between the factories of the region -and the consuming classes. They retailed at great profit the iron of -the Abyss, the Chodorges' nails, the Haussers' scythes and sickles, the -Mirandes' agricultural appliances. They battened on a waste of wealth -and strength with the relative honesty of tradespeople who practised -robbery according to established usage, glowing with satisfaction -every evening when they emptied their till and counted up the money -that they had amassed, levied as tribute on the needs of others. They -were like useless cogwheels in that social machine, which was now fast -getting out of order; they made it grate, and they consumed much of its -remaining energy. - -Whilst the peasant and the ironmonger were disputing furiously over -a reduction of a franc which the former demanded, Luc again began to -examine the children. There were two in the shop--Auguste, a big, -thoughtful-looking boy of twelve, who was learning a lesson, and -Eulalie, a little girl, who seemed to be scarcely five years old, and -who, grave and gentle, sat quietly on a little chair as if judging -all the folk who entered. She had shown an interest in Arsène Lenfant -from the moment he crossed the threshold. Finding him to her taste, -no doubt, she greeted him like the good-hearted little body she was. -And the meeting became complete when a woman entered, bringing a -fifth child with her. This woman was Babette, the wife of Bourron the -puddler, a plump, round, fresh-looking creature, whose gaiety nothing -would ever dim, and who held by the hand her daughter Marthe, a little -thing but four years old, who seemed as plump and as gay as herself. -The child, it should be said, at once quitted her mother and ran to -Auguste Laboque, whom she doubtless knew. - -Babette meantime promptly put an end to the bartering between the -ironmonger and the peasant, who agreed to halve the franc over which -they had been disputing. Then the woman, who had brought back a -saucepan purchased the previous day, exclaimed: 'It leaks, Monsieur -Laboque. I noticed it directly I put it on the fire. I can't possibly -keep a saucepan that leaks, you know.' - -Whilst Laboque, fuming, examined the utensil and decided to give -another in exchange, Madame Laboque began to speak of her children. -They were perfect pests, said she, they never stirred, one from her -chair, the other from his books. It was quite necessary to earn money -for them, for they were not a bit like their parents, nobody would -ever find them up and doing to earn a pile. Meantime Auguste Laboque, -listening to nothing, stood smiling at Marthe Bourron, and Eulalie -Laboque offered her little hand to Arsène Lenfant, whilst the other -Lenfant, Olympe, thoughtfully finished eating the cake which little -Mitaine had given her. And it was altogether a very pleasant and moving -scene, instinct with good fresh hope for to-morrow amidst the burning -atmosphere of battle and hatred which heated the streets. - -'If you think one can gain money with such affairs as this, you are -mistaken,' resumed Laboque, handing another saucepan to Babette. 'There -are no good workmen left, they all scamp their work nowadays. And what -a lot of waste and loss there is in a place like ours! Whoever chooses -comes in, and what with having to set some of our goods outside, in the -street, it's just like the Fair of Take-what-you-like. We were robbed -again this afternoon.' - -Lenfant, who was slowly paying for his spade, expressed his -astonishment at this. 'So all those robberies one hears about really -take place then?' said he. - -'Really take place! Of course they do. It isn't we who rob, it's others -who rob us. They remained out on strike for two months, you know, and -as they haven't the money to buy anything they steal whatever they can. -Only a couple of hours ago some clasp-knives and paring-knives were -stolen out of that case yonder. It isn't tranquillising by any means.' - -And he made a gesture of sudden disquietude, turning pale and quivering -as he pointed to the threatening street, crowded with the gloomy -throng, as if he feared some hasty onrush, some invasion which might -sweep him, the owner and tradesman, away and despoil him of everything. - -'Clasp-knives and paring-knives!' repeated Babette with her sempiternal -laugh. 'They're not good to eat. What could people do with them? It's -just like Caffiaux over the way--he complains that a box of sardines -has been stolen from him. Some urchin just wanted to taste them, no -doubt.' - -She was ever content, ever convinced that things would turn out well. -As for that Caffiaux, he was surely a man whom all the housewives ought -to have cursed. She had just seen her man Bourron go into his place -with Ragu, and Bourron would certainly break up a five-franc piece -there. But when all was said it was only natural that a man should -amuse himself a bit after toiling so hard. And having given expression -to this philosophical view she took her little girl Marthe by the hand -again and went off, well pleased with her beautiful new saucepan. - -'We ought to have some troops here, you know,' resumed Laboque, -explaining his views to the peasant. 'I'm in favour of giving a good -lesson to all those revolutionaries. We need a strong government with a -heavy fist to ensure respect for respectable things.' - -Lenfant jogged his head. With his distrustful common sense he hesitated -to express his opinions. At last he too went off, leading Arsène and -Olympe away and saying: 'Well, I hope that all these affairs between -the _bourgeois_ and the workmen won't end badly!' - -For the last minute or two Luc had been examining Caffiaux's -establishment over the road, at the other corner of the Rue de Brias -and the Place de la Mairie. At first the Caffiaux, man and wife, had -simply kept a grocery, which now had a very flourishing appearance -with its display of open sacks, its piles of tinned provisions and all -sorts of comestible goods protected by netting from the nimble fingers -of marauders. Then the idea had come to them of going into the wine -business, and they had rented an adjoining shop and had fitted it up -as a wine-shop and eating-house, where nowadays they literally coined -gold. The hands employed at all the neighbouring works, notably the -Abyss, consumed a terrible amount of alcohol. There was an endless -procession of them going in and coming out of Caffiaux's establishment, -particularly on the Saturdays when they were paid. Many lingered and -ate there, and many came away dead drunk. The place was a den of -poison, where the strongest lost the use of both their heads and their -arms. Thus the idea at once occurred to Luc to enter it to see what -might be going on inside. It was a very simple matter; as he was to -dine out, he might as well dine there. How many times in Paris had not -his passion to learn everything about the 'people,' to dive to the -depths of their misery and suffering, impelled him to enter the very -worst dens and spend hours in them? - -He quietly installed himself at one of the little tables near the -huge zinc bar. The room was large, a dozen workmen stood up drinking, -whilst others, seated at table, drank, shouted, and played cards, -amidst the thick smoke from their pipes, a smoke in which the gas-jets -merely looked like red spots. And at the very first glance around him -Luc recognised Ragu and Bourron seated face to face at a neighbouring -table, and shouting violently at one another. They had doubtless begun -by drinking a quart of wine, then they had ordered an omelet, some -sausages and some cheese; and the quart bottles having followed one -after another, they were now very drunk. What particularly interested -Luc, however, was the presence of Caffiaux, who stood near their table -talking. For his part the young man had ordered a slice of roast beef, -and whilst eating it he listened. - -Caffiaux was a fat, podgy, smiling man with a paternal face. 'But I -tell you,' said he, 'that if you had held out only three days longer -you would have had the masters bound hand and foot at your mercy! Curse -it all! you're surely not unaware that I'm on the side of you fellows! -Yes, indeed, you won't upset all those blackguardly exploiters a bit -too soon.' - -Ragu and Bourron, who were both greatly excited, clapped him on the -arm. Yes, yes, they knew him, they were well aware that he was a good, -a true friend. But all the same a strike was too hard to bear, and it -always had to come somehow to an end. - -'The masters will always be the masters,' stammered Ragu. 'So you see -we have got to put up with them, whilst giving them the least we can -for their money. Another quart, Caffiaux--you'll help us to drink it, -eh?' - -Caffiaux did not decline. He sat down. He favoured violent views -because he had noticed that his establishment expanded after each -successive strike. Nothing made one so thirsty as quarrelling, the -worker who was exasperated rushed upon Drink, rageful idleness -accustomed toilers to tavern life. Besides, in times of crisis, he, -Caffiaux, knew how to be amiable. Feeling certain that he would be -repaid, he opened little credit accounts for needy housewives, and -did not refuse the men a glass of wine on 'tick,' thus winning the -reputation of being good-hearted, and at the same time helping on the -consumption of all the poison he retailed. Some folks said, however, -that this Caffiaux, with his jesuitical ways, was a traitor, a spy of -the masters of the Abyss, who had helped him financially to set up -in business, in order that he might make the men chatter whilst he -was poisoning them. And it all meant fatal perdition; the wretched, -pleasureless, joyless, wage-earning life necessitated the existence -of taverns, and taverns finished by rotting the wage-earning class. -Briefly, here was a bad man and a bad place, a misery-breeding shop -which ought to have been razed to the ground and swept clear away. - -Luc's attention was for a moment drawn from the conversation near him -by the opening of an inner door communicating with the grocery shop, -and the appearance on the threshold of a pretty girl about fifteen -years of age. This was Honorine, the Caffiaux's daughter, a short, -slim brunette, with fine black eyes. She never stayed any time in the -tavern, but confined herself to serving grocery. And on now entering -she merely called her mother, a stout, smiling woman, as unctuous as -her husband, who stood behind the large zinc bar. All those tradesfolk, -so eager for gain, all those hard egotistical shopkeepers seemed to -have very fine children, thought Luc. And would those children for -ever and ever remain as grasping, as hard, and as egotistical as their -forerunners? - -But all at once a charming and mournful vision appeared before -the young man. Amidst the pestilential odours, the thickening -tobacco-smoke, the noise of a scuffle which had just broken out before -the bar, he saw Josine standing, so vague and blurred, however, that -at the first moment he did not recognise her. She must have slipped in -furtively, leaving Nanet at the door. Trembling, and still hesitating, -she stood behind Ragu, who did not see her; and for a moment Luc was -able to scrutinise her, so slim in her wretched gown, and with so -gentle and shadowy a face under her ragged _fichu_. But he was struck -by something which he had not observed over yonder near the Abyss: her -right hand was no longer pressed against her skirt, and he could see -that it was strongly bandaged, wrapped round to the wrist with linen, -doubtless a bandage for some injury which she had received. - -At last Josine mustered up all her courage. She must have followed -as far as Caffiaux's shop, have glanced through the windows and have -seen Ragu at table. She drew near with her little, faltering step, and -laid her girlish hand upon his shoulder. But he, in the glow of his -intoxication, did not even feel her touch, and she ended by shaking him -until he at last turned round. - -'Thunder!' he cried. 'What! is it you again? What to the--do you want -here?' - -As he spoke he dealt the table such a thump with his fist that the -glasses and the quart-bottles fairly danced. - -'I have to come, since you don't come home,' she answered, looking very -pale and half closing her large frightened eyes in anticipation of some -act of brutality. - -But Ragu was not listening to her, he was working himself into a -frantic passion, shouting by way of showing off before all the mates -who were present. - -'I do what I choose!' he cried, 'and I won't have a woman spying on -me! I'm my own master, do you hear? And I shall stop here as long as I -please!' - -'Then give me the key,' she said despairingly, 'so that at any rate I -may not have to spend the night in the street.' - -'The key! the key!' shrieked the man, 'you ask me for the key!' And -with furious savagery he rose up, caught hold of her by her injured -hand and dragged her down the room to throw her into the street. - -'Haven't I told you that it's all over, that I don't mean to have -anything more to do with you?' he shouted. 'The key, indeed! just go -and see if it isn't in the street!' - -Josine, bewildered and stumbling, raised a piercing cry of pain. 'Oh! -you have hurt me!' - -Ragu's violence had torn the bandage from her right hand, and the linen -was at once reddened by a large bloodstain. But none the less the man, -blinded, maddened by drink, threw the door wide open and pushed the -woman into the street. Then returning and falling heavily upon his -chair before his glass, he stammered with a husky laugh: 'A fine time -of it we should have, and no mistake, if we listened to them!' - -Beside himself this time, quite enraged, Luc clenched his fists with -the intention of falling upon Ragu. But he foresaw an affray, a useless -battle with all those brutes. And feeling suffocated in that vile -den he hastened to pay his score, whilst Caffiaux, who had taken his -wife's place at the bar, tried to arrange matters by saying in his -paternal way that some women were very clumsy. How could one hope to -get anything out of a man who had been tippling? Luc, however, without -answering, hurried out and inhaled with relief the fresh air of the -street, whilst searching among the crowd on all sides, for in leaving -the tavern so hastily his one idea had been to rejoin Josine and offer -her some help, so that she might not remain perishing of hunger, -breadless and homeless, on that black and stormy night. But in vain -did he run up the Rue de Brias, return to the Place de la Mairie, dart -hither and thither among the groups: Josine and Nanet had disappeared. -Terrified perchance by the thought of some pursuit, they had gone to -earth somewhere; and the rainy, windy darkness wrapped them round once -more. - -How frightful was the misery, how hateful were the sufferings to be -found in spoilt, corrupted labour, which had become the vile ferment -whence every degradation sprang! With his heart bleeding, his mind -clouded by the blackest apprehensions, Luc again wandered through the -threatening crowd whose numbers still increased in the Rue de Brias. -He once more found there that vague atmosphere of terror which had -come from the recent struggle between the classes, a struggle which -never finished, whose near return one could scent in the very air. That -resumption of work was but a deceptive peace, there was low growling -amidst all the resignation of the toilers, a silent craving for -revenge; their eyes still retained a gleam of ferocity, and were ready -to flash once more. On both sides of the way were taverns full of men; -drink was consuming their pay, poisonous exhalations were pouring into -the very street, whilst the shops never emptied, but still and ever -levied on the meagre resources of the housewives that iniquitous and -monstrous tribute called 'commercial gain.' Everywhere, upon every side -the toilers, the starvelings, were exploited, preyed upon, caught and -crushed in the works of the ever-grating social machine, whose teeth -proved all the harder now that it was falling to pieces. And in the -mud, under the wildly flickering gaslights, as on the eve of some great -catastrophe, all Beauclair came and went, tramping about like a lost -flock, going blindly towards the pit of destruction. - -Among the crowd Luc recognised several persons whom he had seen on the -occasion of his first visit to Beauclair during the previous spring. -The authorities were there, for fear no doubt of something being amiss. -He saw Mayor Gourier and Sub-Prefect Châtelard pass on together. The -first, a nervous man of large property, would have liked to have troops -in the town; but the second, an amiable waif of Parisian life whose -intellect was sharper, had wisely contented himself with the services -of the gendarmes. Gaume, the presiding judge of the local court, also -went by, accompanied by Captain Jollivet, an officer on the retired -list, who was about to marry his daughter. And as they passed Laboque's -shop they paused to exchange greetings with the Mazelles, some former -tradespeople who, thanks to a rapidly acquired income, had finally -been received into the high society of the town. All these folks spoke -in low voices, with scarcely confident expressions on their faces, -as they glanced sideways at the heavily tramping toilers who were -still keeping up Saturday evening. As Luc passed near the Mazelles -he heard them also speaking of the robberies, as if questioning the -Judge and the Captain on the subject. Tittle-tattle was indeed flying -from mouth to mouth. A five-franc piece had been taken from Dacheux's -till; a box of sardines had been abstracted from Caffiaux's shop; but -the gravest commentaries were those to which the theft of Laboque's -paring-knives gave rise. The terror which was in the air gained upon -sensible people. Was it true then that the revolutionaries were -arming themselves, and purposed carrying out some massacre that very -night, that stormy night which hung so heavily over Beauclair? That -disastrous strike had put everything out of gear, hunger was impelling -wretches hither and thither, the poisonous alcohol of the taverns was -breeding destructive and murderous madness. Truly enough, right along -the filthy, muddy roadway, along the sticky foot-pavements one found -all the poisonousness and degradation that come from iniquitous toil, -the toil of the greater number for the enjoyment of the few--labour, -dishonoured, hated, and cursed, the frightful misery that results -therefrom, together with theft and prostitution which are its monstrous -parasitic growths. Pale girls passed by, factory girls whom some -unprincipled men had led astray and who had afterwards sunk to the -gutter; and drunken men went off with them through all the puddles and -the darkness. - -Increasing compassion, rebellion compounded of grief and anger, took -possession of Luc. Where could Josine be? In what horrid dark nook had -she sought refuge with little Nanet? But all at once a clamour arose, -a hurricane seemed to sweep over the crowd first, making it whirl and -then carrying it away. One might have thought that an attack was being -made upon the shops, that the provisions exposed for sale on either -side of the street were being pillaged. - -Gendarmes rushed forward, there was scampering hither and thither, a -loud clatter of boots and of sabres. What was the matter? What was the -matter? Questions pressed one upon the other, flew about in stammering -accents amidst the growing terror, whilst answers came back wildly from -every side. - -At last Luc heard the Mazelles saying, as they retraced their steps, -'It's a child who has stolen a loaf of bread.' - -The snarling, excited crowd was now rushing up the street. The affair -must have taken place at Mitaine's shop. Women shrieked, an old man -fell down and had to be picked up. One fat gendarme ran so impetuously -through the groups that he upset two persons. - -Luc himself began to run, carried away by the general panic. And as he -passed near Judge Gaume he heard him saying slowly to Captain Jollivet: -'It's a child who has stolen a loaf of bread.' - -That answer came back again, punctuated as it were by the rush of the -crowd. But there was a great deal of scrambling and nothing could yet -be seen. The tradespeople standing on the thresholds of their shops -turned pale, and thought of putting up their shutters. A jeweller was -already removing the watches from his window. Meantime, a general -eddying took place around the fat gendarme, who was busy exerting his -elbows. - -Then Luc, beside whom Mayor Gourier and Sub-Prefect Châtelard were also -running, again detected the words, the pitiful murmur rising amidst a -little shudder: 'It's a child who has stolen a loaf of bread.' - -At last, as the young man was just reaching Mitaine's shop in the wake -of the fat gendarme, he saw him rush forward to assist a comrade, a -long, lanky gendarme, who was roughly holding a boy, between five and -six years old, by the wrist. And in this boy Luc at once recognised -Nanet, with his fair tumbled head, which he still carried erect with -the resolute air of a little man. He had just stolen a loaf of bread -from beautiful Madame Mitaine's open window. The theft could not be -denied, for the lad was still holding the big loaf, which was nearly -as tall as himself. And so it was really this childish act of larceny -which had upset and excited the whole Rue de Brias. Some passers-by -having noticed it had denounced it to the gendarme, who had set off at -a run. But the lad on his side had slipped away very fast, disappearing -among the groups, and the gendarme, raising a perfect hullabaloo in -his desperation, had nearly turned all Beauclair topsy-turvy. He was -triumphant now, for he had captured the culprit, and had brought him -back to the scene of the theft to confound him. - -'It's a child who has stolen a loaf of bread,' the people repeated. - -Madame Mitaine, astonished at such an uproar, had come once more to the -door of her shop. And she was quite thunder-struck when the gendarme, -addressing her, exclaimed: 'This is the young vagabond who just stole a -loaf of yours, madame.' - -Then he gave Nanet a shake in order to frighten him. 'You'll go to -gaol, you know,' he said. 'Why did you steal that loaf, eh?' - -But the little fellow was not put out. He answered clearly, in his -flute-like voice: 'I've had nothing to eat since yesterday, nor my -sister either.' - -Meantime Madame Mitaine had recovered her self-possession. She was -looking at the little lad with her beautiful eyes so full of indulgent -kindness. Poor little devil! And his sister, where had he left her? For -a moment the baker's wife hesitated, whilst a slight flush rose to her -cheeks. Then, with the amiable laugh of a handsome woman accustomed to -be courted by all her customers, she said in her gay quiet way: 'You -are mistaken, gendarme--that child didn't steal the loaf, I gave it -him.' - -Without relaxing his hold on Nanet, the gendarme stood before her, -gaping. Ten people had seen the boy take the loaf and run off with -it. And all at once butcher Dacheux, who had crossed the street, -intervened, in a furious passion. 'But I saw him myself. I was looking -this way at the very moment. He threw himself on the biggest of the -loaves, and then took to his heels. That's how it happened. As true -as I was robbed of five francs the day before yesterday, as true as -Laboque and Caffiaux have been robbed to-day, that little vermin has -just robbed you, Madame Mitaine, and you can't deny it.' - -Quite pink from having told a fib, the baker's wife none the less -repeated gently: 'You are mistaken, neighbour, it was I who gave the -child that loaf. He did not steal it.' - -Then, as Dacheux flew into a temper with her, predicting that by her -foolish indulgence she would end by having them all pillaged and -massacred, Sub-Prefect Châtelard, who had judged the scene at a glance -like a shrewd man, approached the gendarme and made him release Nanet, -to whom, in a loud, ogre-like whisper, he said: 'Off with you quick,' -youngster.' - -The crowd was already growling. Why, the baker's wife herself declared -that she had given the boy the loaf! A poor little beggar, no higher -than a jack-boot, who had been fasting since the previous day! -Exclamations and hisses arose, and suddenly a thunderous voice made -itself heard above every other. - -'Ah! curse it! so little urchins six years old have to set us the -example now? The child did right. When one's hungry one may take -whatever one wants! Yes, everything in the shops is ours, and if you -are all starving it's simply because you are cowards!' - -The throng swayed about and eddied back, as when a paving-stone is -flung into a pond. 'Who is it?' people asked. And at once came back -replies, 'It's Lange, the potter.' Amidst the groups which drew aside, -Luc then saw the man who had spoken, a short, thick-set man, barely -five-and-twenty, with a square-shaped head, bushy with black hair and -beard. Of a rustic appearance but with a glow of intelligence in his -eyes, he went on speaking, proclaiming the dream of his life aloud, in -soaring but unpolished language, like a poet yet in the rough. And he -made no gestures, but quietly kept his hands in his pockets. - -'Provisions and money and houses and clothes,' said he; 'they have -all been stolen from us, and we have a right to take them all back! -And not to-morrow, but this very evening, if we were men, we ought to -resume possession of the soil, the mines, the factories, all Beauclair -indeed! There are no two ways of doing it, there is only one--to throw -the whole edifice on the ground at one blow, to poleaxe and destroy -authority everywhere, so that the people, to whom everything belongs, -may at last build up the world anew!' - -Women took fright on hearing this. Even the men, in presence of the -aggressive vehemence of Lange's words, became silent and retreated, -anxious as to the consequences. Few of them really understood, the -greater number, beneath the century-old grinding bondage of the -wage-earning system, had not as yet reached such a degree of embittered -rebellion. What was the good of it? They would none the less die of -starvation and go to prison, they thought. - -'Oh! you don't dare, I know it!' continued Lange, with terrible -sarcasm. 'But there are others who will dare some day. Your Beauclair -will be blown up unless it falls to pieces from sheer rottenness. Your -noses can't be worth much if you are unable to smell this evening that -everything's rotten, and stinks of putrefaction! There is only so much -dung left; and one doesn't need to be a great prophet to predict that -the wind which blows will some day sweep away the town and all the -thieves and all the murderers, our masters! Ah! may everything tumble -down and break to pieces! To death, to death with all of it!' - -The scandal was becoming so great that Sub-Prefect Châtelard, though -he would have preferred to treat the matter with indifference, found -himself obliged to exercise his authority. Somebody had to be arrested, -so three gendarmes sprang upon Lange, and led him off down a gloomy, -deserted side street, where their heavy footfalls died away. The crowd -itself had shown but vague, contradictory impulses, which were promptly -quieted. And the gathering was broken up and the tramping began afresh, -slow and silent through the black mud from one to the other end of the -street. - -But Luc had shuddered. That prophetic threat had burst forth like -the frightful fated outcome of all that he had seen, all that he had -heard, since the fall of daylight. Such an abundance of iniquity -and wretchedness called for a final catastrophe, which he himself -felt approaching from the depths beyond the horizon, in the form -perchance of some avenging cloud of fire which would consume and -raze Beauclair to the ground. And with his horror of all violence -Luc suffered at the thought of it. What! could the potter be right? -Would force, would theft and murder, be necessary for mankind to find -itself once more within the pale of justice? In his distracted state -it had seemed to Luc that, amidst all the harsh, sombre faces of the -toilers, he had seen the pale countenances of Mayor Gourier, Judge -Gaume, and Captain Jollivet flit past him. Then, too, the faces of the -Mazelles, perspiring with terror, darted by in the flickering light -of a gas-lamp. The street horrified him, and only one compassionate -consolatory thought remained, that of overtaking Nanet, following him, -and ascertaining into what dark nook the unhappy Josine had fallen. - -The lad was walking on and on with all the courage of his little legs. -Luc, who had seen him go off up the Rue de Brias in the direction of -the Abyss, overtook him fairly rapidly, for the dear little fellow -had great difficulty in carrying his big loaf. He pressed it to his -chest with both his hands, from fear of dropping it, and from fear too -lest some evil-hearted man or some big dog might tear it from him. On -hearing Luc's hasty footsteps in the rear, he no doubt felt extremely -frightened, for he attempted to run. But on glancing round he -recognised by the light of one of the last gas-lamps the gentleman who -had smiled at him and his big sister, and thereupon he felt reassured, -and allowed himself to be overtaken. - -'Shall I carry your loaf for you?' the young man asked. - -'Oh, no! I want to keep it. It pleases me,' said the boy. - -They were now on the high road beyond Beauclair, in the darkness -falling from the low and stormy sky. The lights of the Abyss alone -gleamed forth some distance off. And one could hear the child splashing -through the mud, whilst he raised his loaf as high as possible, so that -it might not get dirty. - -'You know where you are going?' asked Luc. - -'Of course.' - -'Is it very far?' - -'No--it's somewhere.' - -A vague fear must have been stealing over Nanet again, for his steps -slackened. Why did the gentleman want to know? Feeling that he was his -big sister's only protector, the little man sought to devise some ruse. -But Luc, who guessed his feelings, and wished to show him that he was a -friend, began to play with him, catching him in his arms at the moment -when he narrowly missed stumbling in a puddle. - -'Look out, my boy! You mustn't get any mud-jam on your bread.' - -Conquered, having felt the affectionate warmth of those big brotherly -arms, Nanet burst into the careless laugh of childhood and said to his -new friend: 'Oh! you are strong and kind, you are!' - -Then he went trotting on, without showing further disquietude. But -where could Josine have hidden herself? The road stretched out, and in -the motionless shadow of each successive tree Luc fancied he could see -her waiting. He was drawing near the Abyss, the ground already shook -with the heavy blows of the steam-hammer, whilst the surroundings were -illumined by a fiery cloud of vapour traversed by the broad rays of the -electric lights. Nanet, without going past the Abyss, turned towards -the bridge and crossed the Mionne. Thus Luc found himself brought back -to the very spot where he had first met the boy and his sister earlier -in the evening. But all at once the lad rushed off, and the young -man lost sight of him and heard him call, whilst once more laughing -playfully: - -'Here, big sister, here big sister! look at this, see how fine it is.' - -Beyond the bridge the river bank became lower, and a bench stood there -in the shadow cast by some palings facing the Abyss, which smoked and -panted on the other side of the water. Luc had just knocked against the -palings when he heard the urchin's laughter turn into cries and tears. -He took his bearings, and understood everything when he perceived -Josine lying exhausted, in a swoon, upon the bench. She had fallen -there overcome by hunger and suffering, letting her little brother go -off, and scarcely understanding what he, with the boldness of a lad of -the streets, had intended to do. And now the child, finding her cold, -as if lifeless, sobbed loudly and despairingly. - -'Oh! big sister, wake up, wake up! You must eat, do eat, there's bread -now.' - -Tears had come to Luc's eyes also. To think that so much misery, such -a frightful destiny of privation and suffering, should fall upon such -weak yet courageous creatures! He quickly descended to the Mionne, -dipped his handkerchief in the water, and came back and applied it to -Josine's temples. Fortunately that tragic night was not a very cold -one. At last he took hold of the young woman's hands, rubbed them, -and warmed them with his own; and finally she sighed and seemed to -awaken from some black dream. But in her prostrate condition, due to -lack of food, nothing astonished her; it appeared to her quite natural -that her brother should be there with that loaf, accompanied too by -that tall and handsome gentleman, whom she recognised. Perhaps she -imagined that it was the gentleman who had brought the bread. Her poor -weak fingers could not break the crust. He had to help her break the -bread into little pieces, which he passed her slowly, one by one, so -that she might not choke herself in her haste to quiet the atrocious -hunger which griped her. And then the whole of her poor, thin, spare -figure began to tremble, and she wept, wept on unceasingly whilst -still eating, thus moistening each mouthful with her tears ere she -devoured it voraciously, evincing the while the shivering clumsiness -of some eager beaten animal which no longer knows how to swallow. Luc, -distracted, with a pang at his heart, gently restrained her hands -whilst still giving her the little pieces which he broke off the -loaf. Never could he afterwards forget that communion of suffering -and kindliness, that bread of life thus given to the most woeful and -sweetest of human creatures. - -Nanet, meantime, broke off his own share, and ate like a little -glutton, proud of his exploit. His sister's tears astonished him--why -did she still weep when they were feasting? Then, having finished, -quite oppressed by his ravenous feast, he nestled close beside her and -was overpowered by sudden somnolence, the happy sleep of childhood, -which beholds the angels in its dreams. And Josine pressed him to -her with her right arm, leaning back against the bench and feeling a -trifle stronger, whilst Luc remained seated by her side, unable to -leave her like that alone in the night with that sleeping child. He had -understood at last that some of the clumsiness that she had shown in -eating had been due to her injured hand, around which, as well as she -could manage, she had again wound her bloodstained bandage. - -'You have injured yourself?' he said. - -'Yes, monsieur, a boot-stitching machine broke one of my fingers and -I had to have it cut off. But it was my fault, so the foreman said, -though Monsieur Gourier gave me fifty francs.' - -She spoke in a somewhat low and very gentle voice, which trembled at -moments as with a kind of shame. - -'So you worked at the boot-factory belonging to Monsieur Gourier, the -Mayor?' - -'Yes, monsieur, I first went there when I was fifteen--I'm eighteen -now. My mother worked there more than twenty years, but she is dead. -I'm all alone, I've only my little brother, Nanet, who is just six. My -name's Josine.' - -And she went on telling her story, in such wise that Luc only had to -ask a few more questions to learn everything. It was the commonplace, -distressful story of so many poor girls; a father who goes off with -another woman, a mother who remains stranded with four children, for -whom she is unable to earn sufficient food. Although she luckily -loses two of them, she dies at last from the effect of over-work, and -then the daughter, just sixteen years of age, has to become a mother -to her little brother, in her turn killing herself with hard work, -though at times she is unable to earn bread enough for herself and the -boy. Then comes the inevitable tragedy which dogs the footsteps of a -good-looking workgirl--a seducer passes, the rakish Ragu, on whose -arm she imprudently strolls each Sunday after the dance. He makes her -such fine promises, she already pictures herself married, with a pretty -home, in which she brings up her brother together with the children -that may come to her. Her only fault is that one evening in springtime -she stumbles; how it was she hardly remembers. And six months later -she is guilty of a second fault, that of going to live with Ragu, who -speaks no more to her of marriage. Then her accident befalls her at the -boot-works, and she finds herself unable to continue working at the -very moment when the strike has rendered Ragu so rageful and spiteful -that he has begun to beat her, accusing her of being the cause of his -own misery. And from that moment things go from bad to worse, and now -he has turned her into the street, and will not even give her the key -so that she may go home to bed with Nanet. - -Whilst the girl went on talking it seemed to Luc that if she should -have a child by Ragu he might become attached to her and make up his -mind to marry her. However, when the young man hinted this to Josine -she speedily undeceived him. No, nothing of that was at all likely. -Then silence fell, they no longer spoke. The certainty that Josine was -not a mother, that she would never bear children to that man Ragu, -brought Luc, amidst his dolorous compassion, a singular feeling of -relief, for which he was unable to account. Vague ideas arose in his -mind, whilst his eyes wandered far away over the dim scene before him, -and he again discerned that gorge of Brias which he had viewed in the -twilight before it was steeped in shadows. On either side where the -Bleuse Mountains reared their flights of rocks the darkness became more -dense. Midway up the height behind him the young man now and again -heard the passing rumble of a train which whistled and slowed down as -it approached the station. At his feet he distinguished the glaucous -Mionne, rippling against the stockade whose beams upheld the bridge. -And then, on his left, came the sudden widening of the gorge, the two -promontories of the Bleuse Mountains drawing aside on the verge of the -vast Roumagne plain, where the tempestuous night rolled on like a black -and endless sea beyond the vague eyot of Beauclair, where constellated -hundreds of little lights, suggesting sparks. - -But Luc's eyes ever came back to the Abyss in front of him. It showed -forth like some weird apparition under clouds of white smoke, fired, -so it seemed, by the electric lamps in the yards. Through open doorways -and other apertures one at times perceived the blazing mouths of -the furnaces, with now a blinding flow of fusing metal, now a huge -ruddy glare; all the internal, hellish flames indeed of the monster's -devouring, tumultuous work. The ground quaked all around, whilst -the ringing dance of the tilt-hammers never ceased to sound above -the dull rumbling of the machinery, and the deep blows of the great -steam-hammers, which suggested a far-away cannonade. - -And Luc, with his eyes full of that vision, his heart lacerated by -the thought of the fate that had befallen that hapless Josine, now -reclining in utter abandonment and wretchedness on that bench beside -him, said to himself that in this poor creature resounded the whole -collapse of labour, evilly organised, dishonoured, and accursed. -In that supreme suffering, in that human sacrifice ended all his -experiences of the evening, the disasters of the strike, the hatred -poisoning men's hearts and minds, the egotistical harshness of -trade, the triumph of drink which had become necessary to stimulate -forgetfulness, the legitimation of theft by hunger, the cracking -and rending of old-time society beneath the very weight of its own -iniquities. And he fancied that he could again hear Lange predicting -the final catastrophe which would sweep away that Beauclair, which -was rotten itself and which rotted everything that came in contact -with it. And he saw once more also the pale girls wandering over the -pavement, those sorry offspring of manufacturing towns, where the vile -wage-system invariably brings about the ruin of the better-looking -factory hands. Was it not to a similar fate that Josine herself was -drifting? He could divine that she was a submissive, a loving creature, -one of those tender natures that give courage to the strong and prove -their reward. And the thought of abandoning her on that bench, of doing -nothing to save her from accursed fate, filled him with such revolt, -that he would have for ever reproached himself had he not offered her a -helping and a brotherly hand. - -'Come, you cannot sleep here with that child,' he said. 'That man must -take you back. For the rest we'll see afterwards. Where do you live?' - -'Near by, in the Rue des Trois Lunes, in Old Beauclair,' she replied. - -Then she explained things to him. Ragu occupied a little lodging of -three rooms in the same house as one of his sisters, Adèle, nicknamed -La Toupe. And she suspected that if Ragu really had not got the key -with him, he must have handed it to La Toupe, who was a terrible -creature. When the young man spoke of quietly going to her and asking -her for the key, Josine shuddered. - -'Oh, no! you must not ask her. She hates me. If one could only come -upon her husband, who's a good-natured man, but I know that he works at -the Abyss to-night. He's a master puddler, named Bonnaire.' - -'Bonnaire!' Luc repeated, a recollection awakening within him; 'why I -saw him when I visited the Abyss last spring. I even had a long talk -with him--he explained the work to me. He's an intelligent fellow, -and, as you say, he seemed to me to be good-natured. Well, it's quite -simple, I will go and speak to him about you.' - -Josine raised a cry of heartfelt gratitude; she was trembling from head -to foot, and she clasped her hands as her whole being went out towards -the young man. 'Oh! monsieur, how good you are!--how can I ever thank -you!' - -A sombre glow was now rising from the Abyss, and Luc, as he glanced at -her, saw her, this time bare-headed, for her ragged wrapper had fallen -over her shoulders. She was no longer weeping, her blue eyes gleamed -with tenderness, and her little mouth had found once more its youthful -smile. With her supple graceful slimness she had retained quite a -childish air, she looked like one who was still playful, simple, and -gay. Her long fair hair, of the hue of ripe oats, had fallen, half -unbound, over the nape of her neck, and lent her quite a girlish and -candid appearance in her abandonment. He, infinitely charmed, by -degrees quite captivated, felt moved and astonished at the sight of the -winning creature that seemed to emerge from the poor beggarly being -whom he had met badly clad, frightened, and weeping. And, besides, -she looked at him with so much adoration, she surrendered to him so -candidly her soul, like one who at last felt herself succoured and -loved. Handsome and kind as he was, he seemed to her a very god after -all the brutality of Ragu. She would have kissed his very footprints; -and she stood before him with her hands still clasped, the left -pressing the right, the mutilated hand round which was wrapped the -bloodstained bandage. And something very sweet and very strong seemed -to bind her and him together, a link of infinite tenderness, infinite -affection. - -'Nanet will take you to the works, monsieur,' she said; 'he knows every -corner of them.' - -'No, no, I know my way. Don't awake him, he will keep you warm. Wait -here for me quietly, both of you.' - -He left her on the bench, in the black night, with the sleeping child. -And as he stepped away a great glow illumined the promontory of the -Bleuse Mountains on the right above the park of La Crêcherie, where -stood Jordan's house. The sombre silhouette of the blast furnace could -be seen on the mountain side. A 'run' of metal flowed forth, and all -the neighbouring rocks, even all the roofs of Beauclair, were illumined -by it as by some bright red dawn. - - -[1] Literally 'my big one,' _i.e._ 'big sister.' We have no exact -equivalent for this expression as a form of endearment, nor for the -ensuing one, _frérot_, little brother.--_Trans._ - -[2] Each French 'department' or county is for administrative -purposes divided into two, three, or four 'arrondissements'; and the -arrondissements in their turn are subdivided into 'cantons.'--_Trans._ - - - -II - - -Bonnaire, the master puddler, one of the best hands of the works, had -played an important part in the recent strike. A man of just mind, -indignant with the iniquity of the wage-earning system, he read the -Paris newspapers and derived from them a revolutionary education in -which there were many gaps, but which had made him a fairly frank -partisan of Collectivist doctrines. As he himself, with the fine -equilibrium of a hard-working healthy man, very reasonably said, -Collectivism was the dream whose realisation they would some day seek; -and meantime it was necessary to secure as much justice as might be -immediately obtained in order to reduce the sufferings of the workers -to a minimum. - -The strike had been for some time inevitable. Three years previously, -the Abyss having nearly come to grief in the hands of Monsieur Jérôme's -son, Michel Qurignon, the latter's son-in-law, Boisgelin, an idler, -a fine Paris gentleman, had purchased the works, investing in them -all that remained of his jeopardised fortune on the advice of a poor -cousin, a certain Delaveau, who had positively undertaken to make -the capital invested yield a profit of thirty per cent, per annum. -And for three years Delaveau, a skilful engineer and a determined -hard worker, had kept his promise, thanks to energetic management and -organisation, strict attention to the minutest details, and absolute -discipline on all sides. Michel Qurignon's ill success in business had -been partly due to the difficulties which had beset the metal market -of the region ever since the manufacture of iron rails and girders had -there ceased to be remunerative, owing to the discovery of certain -chemical processes which in Northern and Eastern France had enabled -ironmasters to make use very cheaply of large quantities of ore which -previously had been regarded as too defective. The Beauclair works -could not possibly turn out the same class of goods so cheaply as -their competitors; ruin therefore seemed inevitable, and Delaveau's -stroke of talent consisted in changing the character of the output, -in giving up the manufacture of rails and girders which Northern and -Eastern France could supply at twenty centimes the kilogramme,[1] and -confining himself to the manufacture of high-class things, such indeed -as projectiles and ordnance, shells and cannon, which brought in from -two to three francs per kilogramme. Prosperity had then returned, and -Boisgelin's investment brought him in a considerable income. Only it -had been necessary to obtain a quantity of new plant, and to secure -the services of more careful and attentive workmen, who necessarily -required to be better paid than others. - -In principle the strike had been brought about by that very question -of better pay. The men were paid by the hundred kilogrammes,[2] and -Delaveau himself admitted the necessity of a new wage tariff. But he -wished to remain absolute master of the situation, desiring above -all things to avoid anything which might seem like surrender on his -part to the pressure of his workpeople. With a specialist mind, very -authoritative in disposition, and stubborn with respect to his rights, -whilst striving to be just and loyal, he regarded Collectivism as a -destructive dream, and declared that any such utopian doctrine would -lead one direct to the most awful catastrophes. The quarrel on this -point between him and the little world of workers over whom he reigned -became a fierce one directly Bonnaire succeeded in setting a defensive -syndicate on foot. For if Delaveau admitted the desirability of relief -and pension funds, and even of co-operative societies supplying cheap -provisions and other necessaries, thus recognising that the workman was -not forbidden to improve his position, he at the same time violently -condemned all syndicates and class grouping designed for collective -action. - -From that moment then the struggle began; Delaveau showed great -unwillingness to complete the revision of the tariffs, and thought -it necessary in his turn to arm himself, in some measure, decreeing -a 'state of siege' at the Abyss. Soon after he had begun to act thus -rigorously the men complained that no individual liberty was left to -them. A close watch was kept on them, on their thoughts and opinions -as well as on their actions, even outside the works. Those who put -on a humble flattering manner and perchance became spies, gained -the management's good graces, whilst the proud and independent were -treated as dangerous men. And as the manager was by instinct a staunch -conservative, a defender of the existing order of things, and openly -evinced the resolve to have none but men of his own views in the place, -all the underlings, the engineers, foremen, and inspectors strove to -surpass one another in energy, displaying implacable severity with -regard to obedience, and what they chose to call 'a proper spirit.' - -Bonnaire, hurt in his opinions, his craving for liberty and justice, -naturally found himself at the head of the malcontents. It was he -who with a few mates waited on Delaveau to acquaint him with their -complaints. He spoke out very plainly, and, indeed, exasperated the -manager without obtaining the rise in wages that he asked for. Delaveau -did not believe in the possibility of a general strike among his hands, -for the metal workers do not readily lose their tempers, and for many -years there had been no strike at all at the Abyss, whereas among the -pitmen of the coal mines of Brias strikes broke out continually. When, -therefore, contrary to Delaveau's anticipations, a general strike did -occur among his own men, when one morning only two hundred out of a -thousand presented themselves at the works, which he had to close, his -resentment was so great that he stubbornly held to the course he had -chosen and refused to make the slightest concession. When Bonnaire and -a deputation of the syndicate ventured to go to him he began by turning -them out of doors. He was the master, the quarrel was between his -workmen and himself, and he intended to settle it with his workmen and -with nobody else. Bonnaire therefore returned to see him accompanied -only by three mates. But all that they could obtain from him were -arguments and calculations, tending to show that the prosperity of the -Abyss would be compromised if he should increase the men's wages. Funds -had been confided to him, a factory had been given him to manage, -and it was his duty to see that the factory paid its way and that the -funds yielded the promised rate of interest. He was certainly disposed -to be humane, but he considered that it was the duty of an honest man -to keep his engagements, and extract from the enterprise he directed -the largest amount of gain possible. All the rest, in his opinion, was -visionary, wild hope, dangerous utopia. And thus, each side becoming -more and more stubborn after several similar interviews, the strike -lasted for two long months, full of disasters for the wage-earners -as well as for the owner, increasing as it did the misery of the men -whilst the plant was damaged by neglect and idleness. At last the -contending parties consented to make certain mutual concessions, and -came to an agreement respecting a new tariff. But throughout another -week Delaveau refused to take back certain workmen, whom he called -the 'leaders,' and among whom, of course, was Bonnaire. The manager -harboured very rancorous feelings towards the latter, although he -recognised that he was one of the most skilful and most sober of his -hands. When he ultimately gave way, and took Bonnaire back with the -others, he declared that he was being compelled to act in this manner -against his inclinations, solely from a desire to restore peace. - -From that moment Bonnaire felt that he was condemned. Under such -circumstances he was at first absolutely unwilling to go back to the -works at all. But he was a great favourite with his mates, and when -they declared that they would not return unless he resumed work at the -same time as themselves, he appeared to resign himself to their wishes, -in order that he might not prove the cause of some fresh rupture. In -his estimation, however, his mates had suffered quite enough; he had -fully made up his mind and intended to sacrifice himself in order that -none other might have to pay the penalty of the semi-victory which -had been gained. And thus, although he had ended by returning to work -on the Thursday, it had been with the intention of taking himself off -on the ensuing Sunday, for he was convinced that his presence at the -Abyss was no longer possible. He took none of his friends into his -confidence, but simply warned the management on Saturday morning of his -intention to leave. If he were still working at the Abyss that night -it was solely because he wished to finish a job which he had begun. He -desired to disappear in a quiet, honest way. - -Luc having given his name to the door porter, inquired if he could -speak to master-puddler Bonnaire; and the porter in reply contented -himself with pointing out the hall where the puddling-furnaces and -rolling-machines were installed at the further end of the second yard -on the left. The yards, soaked by the recent rain, formed a perfect -cloaca, what with their uneven paving-stones and their tangle of -rails, amongst which passed a branch line connecting the works with -Beauclair railway station. Under the lunar-like brightness of a few -electric lamps, amongst the shadows cast by the sheds and the plunging -tower, and the vaguely outlined cementing furnaces, which suggested -the conical temples of some barbarous religion, a little engine was -slowly moving about and sending forth shrill whistles of warning -in order that nobody might be run over. But what more particularly -deafened the visitor from the moment he crossed the threshold was the -beating of a couple of tilt-hammers installed in a kind of cellar. -Their big heads--the heads, it seemed, of voracious beasts--could -be seen striking the iron with a furious rhythm; they bit it, as it -were, and stretched it into bars with all the force of their desperate -metal teeth. The workmen beside them led calm and silent lives, -communicating with one another by gestures only amidst the everlasting -uproar and trepidation. Luc, after skirting a low building where some -other tilt-hammers were also working ragefully, turned to the left and -crossed the second yard whose ravaged soil was littered with pieces -of scrap metal, slumbering in the mud until collected for re-casting. -A railway truck was being laden with a large piece of wrought work, -a shaft for a torpedo boat, which had been finished that very day, -and which the little engine was about to remove. As this engine came -up whistling, Luc, in order to avoid it, took a pathway between some -symmetrically disposed piles of pig-iron, and in this wise reached the -hall of the puddling-furnaces and the rolling-machines. - -This hall or gallery, one of the largest of the works, resounded in -the daytime with the terrible rumbling of the rollers. But the latter -were now at rest, and more than half of the huge place was steeped in -darkness. Of the ten puddling-furnaces only four were at work, served -by two forge-hammers. Here and there a meagre gas-light flickered -in the draught; huge shadows filled the place; one could scarcely -distinguish the great smoked beams upholding the roof above. A sound -of dripping water emerged from the darkness; the beaten ground which -served as a flooring--all bumps and hollows--was in one part so much -fœtid mud, in another so much coal-dust, in another, again, a mass of -waste stuff. On every side one noticed the filth of joyless labour, a -labour hated and accursed, performed in a black, ruinous, ignoble den, -pestilential with smoke and grimy with the dirt of every kind that flew -through the air. From the nails driven into some little huts of rough -boards hung the workmen's town-clothes, mixed with linen vests and -leather aprons. And all that dense misery was only brightened when some -master puddler happened to open the door of his furnace, whence emerged -a blinding flow of light which, like the beaming of some planet, -transpierced the darkness of the entire gallery. - -When Luc presented himself Bonnaire was for the last time stirring -some fusing metal--some four hundred and forty pounds' weight of cast -iron, which the furnace and human labour between them were to turn into -steel. The whole operation of steel puddling required four hours, and -this stirring at the expiration of the first hours of waiting was the -hardest part of the work. Grasping an iron rod of fifty pounds' weight -and standing in the broiling glare, the master puddler stirred the -incandescent metal on the sole of the furnace. With the help of the -hook at the end of his bar he raked the depths and kneaded the huge -sun-like ball or 'bloom,' at which he alone was able to gaze, with his -eyes hardened to the intense glow. And he had to gaze at it, since it -was by its colour that he ascertained what stage the work had reached. -When he withdrew his bar the latter was a bright red, and threw out -sparks on all sides. - -With a motion of his hand Bonnaire now signed to his stoker to quicken -the fire, whilst another workman, the companion puddler, took up a bar -in order to do a stir in his turn. - -'You are Monsieur Bonnaire, are you not?' asked Luc, drawing near. - -The master puddler seemed surprised at being thus accosted, but nodded -affirmatively. He looked superb with his white neck and pink face full -of victorious strength amidst the glare of his work. - -Scarcely five-and-thirty years of age, he was a giant of fair -complexion, with close-cropped hair and a broad, massive, placid face. -His large firm mouth and big peaceful eyes expressed great rectitude -and kindliness. - -'I don't know if you recognise me,' Luc continued, 'but I saw you here -last summer and had a talk with you.' - -'Quite so,' the master puddler at last replied; 'you are a friend of -Monsieur Jordan.' - -When, however, the young man with some embarrassment explained the -motive of his visit, how he had seen the unhappy Josine cast into the -street, and how it seemed that he, Bonnaire, could alone do something -for her, the workman relapsed into silence, looking embarrassed on -his side also. Neither spoke for a time; there came an interval of -waiting, prolonged by the noise of the forge-hammer near them. And when -the master puddler was at last able to make himself heard he simply -said: 'All right, I'll do what I can--I'll go with you as soon as I've -finished, in about three-quarters of an hour.' - -Although it was nearly eleven o'clock already, Luc resolved to wait; -and at first he began to take some interest in a cutting-machine, which -in a dark corner near at hand was cutting bar-steel with as much quiet -ease as if steel were butter. At each motion of the machine's jaws, a -little piece of metal fell, and a heap was soon formed, ready to be -carried in a barrow into the charging-chamber, where each charge of -sixty-six pounds' weight was made up in order to be removed to the -adjacent hall, where the crucible furnaces were installed. And with the -view of occupying his time, attracted as he was by the great pink glow -which filled that hall, Luc entered it. - -It was a very large and lofty place, as badly kept, as grimy and as -much out of repair as the other. And on a level with the bossy ground, -littered with scrap, were the openings of six batteries of furnaces, -each divided into three compartments. Those narrow, long, glaring -pits whose brick walls occupied the whole basement, were heated by a -mixture of air and flaming gas, which the head caster himself regulated -by means of a mechanical fan. Thus, streaking the beaten ground of -the shadowy hall, there appeared six slits, open above the internal -hell, the ever-active volcano, whose subterranean brazier could be -heard rumbling loudly. Covers, shaped like long slabs, bricks bound -together by an iron armature, were laid across the furnaces. But these -covers did not join, and from each intervening space sprang an intense -pinkish light, so many sunrises as it were, broad rays starting from -the soil and darting in a sheaf to the dusty glass of the roofing. And -whenever a man, according to the requirements of the work, removed one -or another of the covers, one might have thought that some planet was -emerging from all obstacles, for the hall was then irradiated by a -brightness like that of aurora. - -It so happened that Luc was able to see the operations. Some workmen -were loading a furnace, and he saw them lower the crucibles of -refractory clay, which had previously been heated till they were red, -and then by means of a funnel, pour in the charges, sixty-six pounds -of metal for each crucible. For some three or four hours fusion would -be in progress, and then the crucibles would have to be removed and -emptied, which was the terrible part of the work. As Luc drew near -to another furnace, where some men provided with long bars had just -assured themselves that the fusion was perfect, he recognised Fauchard -in the drawer whose duty it was to remove the crucibles. Livid and -withered, with a bony, scorched face, Fauchard had none the less -retained strong herculean arms and legs. Physically deformed by the -terrible labour--ever the same--which he had been performing for -fourteen years already, he had suffered yet more considerably in his -intelligence from the machine-like life to which he had been condemned: -perpetually repeating the same movements, without need of thought or -individuality of action, becoming as it were merely an element of the -struggle with fire. His physical defects, the rise of his shoulders, -the hypertrophy of his limbs, the scorching of his eyes, which had -paled from constant exposure to flaming light, were not his only -blemishes--he was also conscious of intellectual downfall; for caught -in the monster's grasp at sixteen years of age, after a rudimentary -education suddenly cut short, he remembered that he had once possessed -intelligence, an intelligence which was now flickering and departing -under the relentless burden of a labour which he performed like some -blinded beast crushed down by destructive baleful toil. And he now had -but one sole craving, one sole delight, which was to drink--to drink -his four quarts of wine at each shift, to drink so that the furnace -might not burn up his baked skin like so much old rind, to drink so -that he might escape crumbling into ashes, so that he might enjoy some -last felicity by finishing his life in the happy stupor of perpetual -intoxication. - -That night Fauchard had greatly feared that the fire would boil some -more of his blood. But, already at eight o'clock he was agreeably -surprised to see Natalie, his wife, arrive with the four quarts of wine -which she had obtained on credit from Caffiaux, and which he had no -longer expected. She expressed regret that she had not a little meat -to give him also, but Dacheux, she said, had shown himself pitiless. -Ever in low spirits, and greatly given to complaining, she expressed -her anxiety as to how they would manage to get anything to eat on -the morrow. But her husband, who was well pleased at having secured -his wine, dismissed her saying that he should apply to the manager -for an advance as his mates had done. A crust of bread sufficed him -as food, he drank, and at once found himself full of confidence. -When the time to remove the crucibles arrived he tossed off another -half-quart at a gulp, and went to the water cistern to soak the large -linen apron that enveloped him. Then, with big wooden shoes on his -feet and wet gloves on his hands, armed too with long iron pincers, he -stood astride the furnace, resting his right foot on the cover, which -had just been pushed aside, his chest and stomach being exposed the -while to the frightful heat which arose from the open volcano. For a -moment he appeared quite red, blazing like a torch in the midst of a -brazier. His wooden shoes steamed, his apron and his gloves steamed, -the whole of his flesh seemed to melt away. But without evincing any -haste, he looked below him. His eyes, accustomed to the brightest -glare, sought the crucible in the depths of the burning pit. Then he -stooped slightly in order to seize it with his long pincers, and with -a sudden straightening of the loins, with three supple rhythmical -movements--one of his hands opening and gliding along the rod until -the other joined it--he drew up the crucible, raising easily, at -arm's length, that weight of one hundred and ten pounds--pincers and -crucible combined--and deposited it on the ground, where it looked -like some piece of the sun, at first of dazzling whiteness, which -speedily changed to pink. Then he began the operation afresh, drawing -the crucibles forth one by one amidst the increasing glow, with more -skill even than strength, coming and going amidst that incandescent -matter without ever burning himself, without seeming even to feel the -intolerable heat. - -They were going to cast some little shells, of one hundred and -thirty-two pounds. The bottle-shaped moulds were ranged in two rows. -And when the assistants had skimmed the slag off the crucibles with -the aid of iron rods, which came away smoking and dropping purple -slaver, the head caster quickly seized the crucibles with his large, -round-jawed pincers, and emptied two into each mould. And the metal -flowed like white lava, with just a faint pinkish tinge here and there -amidst a shooting of fine blue sparks as delicate as flowers. It might -have been thought that the man was decanting some bright, gold-spangled -liqueur; all was done noiselessly, with precise and nimble movements, -amidst a blaze and a heat that changed the whole place into a devouring -brazier. - -Luc, who was unaccustomed to it all, felt stifling, unable to remain -there any longer. At a distance of twelve and even fifteen feet from -the furnaces his face was scorched, and a burning perspiration streamed -from him. The shells had interested him, and he watched them cooling, -asking himself what men they would some day kill. And going on into -the next hall, he there found himself among the steam hammers and -the forging-press. This hall was now asleep, with all its monstrous -appliances. Its press of a force of two thousand tons and its hammers -of lesser power spread out, showing in the depths of the gloom their -black squat silhouettes, which suggested those of barbarian gods. And -here Luc found more projectiles, shells which that very day had been -forged under the smallest steam-hammer, on leaving the moulds after -annealing. Then he became interested in the tube of a large naval gun, -more than nineteen feet long, which was still warm from having passed -under the press. Billets totalling two thousand two hundred pounds of -steel had spread out and adapted themselves like rolls of paste to form -that tube, which was waiting chained, ready to be lifted by powerful -cranes and carried to the turning-lathes, which were farther off, -beyond the hall where the Martin furnace and some of the steel-casting -plant were installed. - -Luc went on to the end, across that hall also, the most spacious of -them all, for there the largest pieces were cast. The Martin furnace -enabled one to pour large quantities of steel in a state of fusion into -the cast-iron moulds, whilst eight feet overhead two rolling bridges -worked by electricity gently and easily moved huge pieces weighing many -tons to every requisite point. Then Luc entered the lathe workshop, a -huge closed shed which was rather better kept than the others, and -where on either hand he found a series of admirable appliances in which -incomparable delicacy and power were blended. There were planes for -naval armour-plates which finished off metal-work even as a carpenter's -plane gives a finish to wood. And there were the lathes of precise if -intricate mechanism, as pretty as jewels, and as amusing as toys. Only -some of them worked at night-time, each lighted by a single electric -lamp, and giving forth but a faint sound in the deep silence. Again did -Luc come upon projectiles. There was one shell which had been fixed to -a lathe, to be calibrated externally. It turned round and round with -a prodigious speed, and steel shavings which suggested silver curls -flew away from under the narrow motionless blade. Afterwards it would -only have to be hollowed internally, tempered, and finished. But where -were the men that would be killed by it, after it had been charged? -As the outcome of all that heroic human labour, the subjugation of -iron bringing royalty to man and victory over the forces of nature, -Luc beheld a vision of massacre, all the bloodthirsty madness of a -battle-field! He walked on, and at a little distance came upon a large -lathe, where a cannon similar to the one whose forged tube he had -just seen was revolving. This one, however, was already calibrated -externally, and shone like new money. Under the supervision of a -youth who leant forward, attentively watching the mechanism, like a -clock-maker that of a watch, it turned and turned interminably with -a gentle humming, whilst the blade inside drilled it with marvellous -precision. And when that gun also should have been tempered, cast -from the summit of the tower into a bath of petroleum oil, to what -battle-field would it journey to kill men--how many lives would it mow -down, that gun made of steel which men in a spirit of brotherliness -should have fashioned only into rails and ploughshares! - -Luc pushed a door open, and made his escape into the open air. The -night was damply warm, and he drew a long breath, feeling refreshed -by the wind which was blowing. When he raised his eyes he was unable -to distinguish a single star beyond the wild rush of the clouds. But -the lamp globes shining here and there in the yard replaced the hidden -moon, and again he saw the chimneys rising amidst lurid smoke, and a -coal-smirched sky, across which upon every side, forming as it were -some gigantic cobweb, flew all the wires which transmitted electric -power. The machines which produced it, two machines of great beauty, -were working close by in some new buildings. There were also some -works for making bricks and crucibles of refractory clay; there was a -carpenter's shop for model-making and packing, and numerous warehouses -for commercial steel and iron. And Luc, after losing himself for a time -in that little town, well pleased when he came upon deserted stretches, -black peaceful nooks where he seemed to revive to life, suddenly -found himself once more inside the inferno. On looking around him he -perceived that he was again in the gallery containing the furnaces for -the crucibles. - -Another operation was now being executed there. Seventy crucibles were -being removed at the same moment for some big piece of casting which -was to weigh over three thousand nine hundred pounds. The mould with -its funnel was waiting in readiness in the pit, in the neighbouring -hall. And the procession was swiftly organised, all the helpers of -the various squads took part in it, two men for each crucible, which -they raised with pincers and carried off with long and easy strides. -Another, then another, then another, the whole seventy crucibles -passed along in a dazzling procession. One might have thought it some -ballet scene, in which vague dancers with light and shadowy feet -passed two-by-two carrying huge Venetian lanterns, orange-red in hue. -And the marvellous part of it all was the extraordinary rapidity, the -perfect assurance of the well-regulated movements in which the bearers -were seen gambolling, as it were, in the midst of fire, hastening -up, elbowing one another, marching off and coming back, juggling all -the while with fusing stars. In less than three minutes the seventy -crucibles were emptied into the mould, whence arose a sheaf of gold, a -great spreading bouquet of sparks. - -When Luc at last returned to the hall containing the puddling furnaces -and the rollers, after a good half-hour's promenade, he found Bonnaire -finishing his work. - -'I will be with you in a moment, monsieur,' said the puddler. - -On the glaring sole of the furnace, whose open door was blazing, he had -already on three occasions isolated one quarter of the incandescent -metal, that is a hundredweight of it, which he had rolled and fashioned -into a kind of ball with the aid of his bar; and those three quarters -had gone one after the other to the hammer. He was now dealing with -the fourth and last portion. For twenty minutes he had been standing -before that voracious maw, his chest almost crackling from the heat of -the furnace, his hands manipulating his heavy hooked bar, and his eyes -clearly seeing how to do the work aright in spite of all the dazzling -flames. He gazed fixedly at the fiery ball of steel which he rolled -over and over continuously in the centre of the brazier; and in the -fierce reverberation which gilded his tall pinkish form against the -black background of darkness, he looked like some maker of planets, -busily creating new worlds. But at last he finished, withdrew his -flaming bar, and handed over to his mate the last hundredweight of the -charge. - -The stoker was in readiness with a little iron chariot. Armed with -his pincers the assistant puddler seized hold of the ball, which -suggested some huge fiery sponge that had sprouted on the side of a -volcanic cavern, and with an effort he brought it out and threw it -into the chariot, which the stoker quickly wheeled to the hammer. A -smith at once caught it with his own pincers and placed and turned it -over under the hammer, which all at once began working. Then came a -deafening noise and a perfect dazzlement. The ground quaked, a pealing -of bells seemed to ring out, whilst the smith, gloved and bound round -with leather, disappeared amidst a perfect tornado of sparks. At some -moments the expectorations were so large that they burst, here and -there, like canister shot. Impassive amidst that fusillade, the smith -turned the sponge over and over in order that it might be struck on -every side and converted into a 'lump,' a loaf of steel, ready for -the rollers. And the hammer obeyed him, struck here, struck there, -slackening or hastening its blows without a word even coming from -his lips, without anyone even detecting the signs which he made to -the hammer-lad who sat aloft in his little box with his hand on the -starting-lever. - -Luc, who had drawn near whilst Bonnaire was changing his clothes, -recognised little Fortuné, Fauchard's brother-in-law, in the hammer-lad -thus perched on high, motionless for hours together, giving no other -sign of life than a little mechanical gesture of the hand amidst the -deafening uproar which he raised. A touch on the right-hand lever so -that the hammer might fall, a touch on the left-hand lever so that it -might rise, that was all; the little lad's mind was confined to that -narrow space. By the bright gleams of the sparks one could for a -moment perceive him, slim and frail, with an ashen face, discoloured -hair, and the blurred eyes of a poor little being whose growth, both -physically and mentally, had been arrested by brutish work, in which -there was nothing to attract one, in which there was never a chance of -any initiative. - -'If monsieur's willing, I'm ready now,' said Bonnaire, just as the -hammer at last became silent. - -Luc quickly turned round, and found the master puddler before him, -wearing a jersey and a coarse woollen jacket, whilst under one of his -arms was a bundle made up of his working-clothes and certain small -articles belonging to him--all his baggage in fact, since he was -leaving the works to return to them no more. - -'Quite so--let us be off,' said Luc. - -But Bonnaire paused for another moment. As if he fancied that he might -have forgotten something he gave a last glance inside the plank hut -which served as a cloakroom. Then he looked at his furnace, the furnace -which he had made his own by more than ten years of hard toil, turning -out there thousands of pounds of steel fit for the rollers. He was -leaving the establishment of his own free will, in the idea that such -was his duty towards both his mates and himself, but for that very -reason the severance was the more heroic. However, he forced back the -emotion which was clutching him at the throat, and passed out the first -in advance of Luc. - -'Take care, monsieur,' he said; 'that piece is still warm--it would -burn your boot.' - -Neither spoke any further. They crossed the two dim yards under the -lunar lights, and passed before the low building where the tilt-hammers -were beating ragefully. And as soon as they were outside the Abyss -the black night seized hold of them again, and the glow and growl of -the monster died away behind them. The wind was still blowing, a wind -carrying the ragged flight of clouds skyward; and across the bridge the -bank of the Mionne was deserted, not a soul was visible. - -When Luc had found Josine reclining on the bench where he had left -her, motionless and staring into the darkness, with Nanet asleep and -pressing his head against her, he wished to withdraw, for he considered -his mission ended, since Bonnaire would now find the poor creature some -place of shelter. But the puddler suddenly became embarrassed and -anxious at the idea of the scene which would follow his homecoming when -his wife, that terrible Toupe, should see him accompanying that hussy. -The scene was bound to be the more frightful since he had not told his -wife of his intention to quit the works. He foresaw, indeed, that a -tremendous quarrel would break out when she learnt that he was without -work, through throwing himself voluntarily out of employment. - -'Shall I accompany you?' Luc suggested; 'I might be able to explain -things.' - -'Upon my word, monsieur,' replied the other, feeling relieved, 'it -would perhaps be the better if you did.' - -No words passed between Bonnaire and Josine. She seemed ashamed in -presence of the master puddler, and if he, with his good nature, -knowing too all that she suffered with Ragu, evinced a kind of -fatherly pity towards her, he none the less blamed her for having -yielded to that bad fellow. Josine had awakened Nanet on seeing the -two men arrive, and after an encouraging sign from Luc, she and the -boy followed them in silence. All four turned to the right, skirting -the railway embankment, and thus entering Old Beauclair, whose hovels -spread like some horrid stagnant pool over the flat ground just at the -opening of the gorge. There was an intricate maze of narrow streets -and lanes lacking both air and light, and infected by filthy gutters -which the more torrential rains alone cleansed. The overcrowding of -the wretched populace in so small a space was hard to understand, when -in front of it one perceived La Roumagne spreading its immense plain -where the breath of heaven blew freely as over the sea. The bitter -keenness of the battle for money and property alone accounted for the -niggardly fashion in which the right of the inhabitants to some little -portion of the soil, the few yards requisite for everyday life, had -been granted. Speculators had taken a hand in it all, and one or two -centuries of wretchedness had culminated in a cloaca of cheap lodgings, -whence people were frequently expelled by their landlords, low as might -be the rents demanded for certain of those dens, where well-to-do -people would not have allowed even their dogs to sleep. Chance-wise -over the ground had risen those little dark houses, those damp shanties -of plaster-work, those vermin and fever-breeding nests; and mournful -indeed at that night hour, under the lugubrious sky, appeared that -accursed city of labour, so dim, so closely-pent, filthy too, like -some horrid vegetation of social injustice. - -Bonnaire, walking ahead, followed a lane, then turned into another, -and at last reached the Rue des Trois Lunes, one of the narrowest of -the so-called streets. It had no footways, and was paved with pointed -pebbles picked from the bed of the Mionne. The black and creviced house -of which he occupied the first floor had one day suddenly 'settled,' -lurching in such wise that it had been necessary to shore up the -frontage with four great beams; and Ragu, as it happened, occupied -the two rooms of the second story, whose sloping floor those beams -supported. Down below, there was no hall; the precipitous ladder-like -stairs started from the very threshold. - -'And so, monsieur,' Bonnaire at last said to Luc, 'you will be kind -enough to come up with me.' - -He had once more become embarrassed. Josine understood that he did -not dare take her to his rooms for fear of some affront, though he -suffered at having to leave her still in the street with the child. In -her gentle resigned way she therefore arranged matters. 'We need not go -in,' she said; 'we'll wait on the stairs up above.' - -Bonnaire immediately fell in with the suggestion. 'That's best,' said -he. 'Have a little patience, sit down a moment, and if the key's in my -place, I'll bring it to you, and then you can go to bed.' - -Josine and Nanet had already disappeared into the dense darkness -enveloping the stairs. One could no longer even hear them breathing, -they had ensconced themselves in some nook overhead. And Bonnaire in -his turn then went up, guiding Luc, warning him respecting the height -of the steps, and telling him to keep hold of the greasy rope which -served in lieu of a hand-rail. - -'There, monsieur, that's it. Don't move,' he said at last. 'Ah! the -landings aren't large, and one would turn a fine somersault if one were -to fall.' - -He opened a door and politely made Luc pass before him into a fairly -spacious room, where a little petroleum lamp shed a yellowish light. -In spite of the lateness of the hour La Toupe was still mending some -house linen beside this lamp; whilst her father, Daddy Lunot, as he was -called, had fallen asleep in a shadowy nook, with his pipe, which had -gone out, between his gums. In a bed, standing in one corner, slept the -two children, Lucien and Antoinette, one six, the other four years -old, and both of them fine, big children for their respective ages. -Apart from this common room, where the family cooked and ate their -meals, the lodging only comprised two others, the bed-room of the -husband and wife, and that of Daddy Lunot. - -La Toupe, stupefied at seeing her husband return at that hour, for she -had been warned of nothing, raised her head, exclaiming: 'What, is it -you?' - -He did not wish to start the great quarrel by immediately telling her -that he had left the Abyss. He preferred to settle the matter of Josine -and Nanet first of all. So he replied evasively: 'Yes, I've finished, -so I've come back.' Then, without leaving his wife time to ask any more -questions, he introduced Luc, saying: 'Here, this gentleman, who is a -friend of Monsieur Jordan's, came to ask me something--he'll explain it -to you.' - -Her surprise and suspicion increasing, La Toupe turned towards the -young man, who thereby perceived her great likeness to her brother -Ragu. Short and choleric, she had his strongly marked face, with thick -ruddy hair, a low forehead, thin nose and massive jaws. Her bright -complexion, the freshness of which still rendered her attractive and -young-looking at eight-and-twenty years of age, alone explained the -reason which had induced Bonnaire to marry her, though he had been -well acquainted with her abominable temper. That which everybody had -then foreseen had come to pass. La Toupe made the home wretched by her -everlasting fits of anger. In order to secure some peace her husband -had to bow to her will in every little matter of their daily life. Very -coquettish, consumed by the ambition to be well-dressed and possess -jewellery, she only evinced a little gentleness when she was able to -deck herself in a new gown. - -Luc, being thus called upon to speak, felt the necessity of gaining her -good will by a compliment. From the moment of crossing the threshold, -however bare might be the scanty furniture, he had remarked that -the room seemed very clean, thanks undoubtedly to the housewife's -carefulness. And drawing near to the bed he exclaimed: 'Ah! what fine -children, they are sleeping like little angels.' - -La Toupe smiled, but looked at him fixedly and waited, feeling -thoroughly convinced that this gentleman would not have put himself out -to call there if he had not had something of importance to obtain from -her. And when he found himself obliged to come to the point, when he -related how he had found Josine starving on a bench, abandoned there -in the night, she made a passionate gesture, and her jaws tightened. -Without even answering the gentleman, she turned toward her husband in -a fury: 'What! What's this again? Is it any concern of mine?' - -Bonnaire, thus compelled to intervene, strove to pacify her in his -kindly, conciliatory way. - -'All the same,' said he, 'if Ragu left the key with you, one ought to -give it to the poor creature, because he's over yonder at Caffiaux's -place, and may well pass the night there. One can't leave a woman and a -child to sleep out of doors.' - -At this La Toupe exploded: 'Yes, I've got the key!' said she. 'Yes, -Ragu gave it to me, and precisely because he wanted to prevent that -hussy from installing herself any more in his rooms, with her little -scamp of a brother! But I don't want to know anything about those -horrors! I only know one thing, it was Ragu who confided the key to me, -and it's to Ragu that I shall return it.' - -Then, as her husband again attempted to move her to pity, she violently -silenced him. 'Do you want to make me take up with my brother's fancies -then?' she cried. 'Just let the girl go and kick the bucket elsewhere, -since she chose to listen to him. A nice state of things it's been, -and no mistake! No, no, each for himself or herself; and as for her, -let her remain in the gutter; a little sooner, a little later, it all -amounts to the same thing!' - -Luc listened, feeling hurt and indignant. In her he found all the -harshness of the virtuous women of her class, who show themselves -pitiless towards the girls that stumble amidst their trying struggle -for life. And in La Toupe's case, ever since the day when she had -learnt that her brother had bought Josine a little silver ring, there -had been covert jealousy and hatred of that pretty girl whom she -pictured fascinating men and wheedling gold chains and silk gowns out -of them. - -'One ought to be kind-hearted, madame,' was all that Luc could say, in -a voice that quivered with compassion. - -But La Toupe did not have time to answer, for all at once an uproar of -heavy stumbling footsteps resounded on the stairs, and hands fumbled -at the knob of the door, which opened. It was Ragu with Bourron, -one following the other like a pair of good-humoured drunkards who, -having wetted their whistles in company, could no longer separate. -Nevertheless Ragu, who had some sense left him, had torn himself away -from Caffiaux's wine-shop, saying that, however pleasant it might be -there, he none the less had to go back to work on the morrow. And thus -he had looked in at his sister's with his mate, in order to get his key. - -'Your key!' cried La Toupe sharply, 'there it is! And I won't keep it -again, mind. I've just had a lot of foolish things said to me in order -to make me give it to that gadabout. Another time when you want to turn -somebody out of the house just do it yourself.' - -Ragu, whose heart had doubtless been softened by liquor, began to -laugh: 'She's so stupid, is Josine,' he said. 'If she had wanted to be -pleasant she would have drunk a glass with us instead of snivelling. -But women never know how to tackle men.' - -He was unable to express himself more fully, for just then Bourron, -who had fallen on a chair, laughing at nothing with his everlasting -good humour, inquired of Bonnaire: 'I say, is it true then that you're -leaving the works?' - -La Toupe turned round, starting as if a pistol had been fired off -behind her. 'What! He's leaving the works!' she cried. - -Silence fell. Then Bonnaire courageously came to a decision. 'Yes, I'm -leaving the works; I can't do otherwise.' - -'You're leaving the works! you're leaving the works!' bawled his wife, -quite furious and distracted as she took her stand before him. 'So -that two months' strike, which made us spend all our savings, wasn't -enough, eh? It's for you to pay the piper now, eh? So we shall die of -starvation, and I shall have to go about naked!' - -He did not lose his temper, but gently answered: 'It's quite possible -that you won't have a new gown for New Year's Day, and perhaps too we -shall have to go on short commons. But I repeat to you that I'm doing -what I ought to do!' - -She did not give up the battle as yet, but drew still nearer, shouting -in his face: 'Oh, bunkum! you needn't imagine that folks will be -grateful to you! Your mates don't scruple to say that if it hadn't been -for that strike of yours they'd never have starved during those two -months. Do you know what they'll say when they hear that you've left -the works? They'll say that it serves you right, and that you're only -an idiot! I'll never allow you to do such a foolish thing! You hear, -you'll go back to-morrow!' - -Bonnaire looked at her fixedly with his bright and steady eyes. If as -a rule he gave way on points of domestic policy, if he allowed her -to reign despotically in ordinary household matters, he became like -iron whenever any case of conscience arose. And so, without raising -his voice, in a firm tone which she well knew, he answered: 'You will -please keep quiet. Those are matters for us men; women like you don't -understand anything about them, and so it's better that they shouldn't -meddle with them. You're very nice, but the best thing you can do is to -go on mending your linen again if you don't want a quarrel.' - -He thereupon pushed her towards the chair near the lamp, and forced her -to sit down again. Conquered, trembling with wrath which she knew would -henceforth be futile, she took up her needle, and made a pretence of -feeling no further interest in the questions from which she had been so -decisively thrust aside. Awakened by the noise of voices, Daddy Lunot -her father, without evincing any astonishment at the sight of so many -people, lighted his pipe once more and listened to the talk with the -air of an old philosopher who had lost every illusion; whilst in their -little bed the children Lucien and Antoinette, likewise roused from -their slumber, opened their eyes widely, and seemed to be striving to -understand the serious things which the big folk were saying. - -Bonnaire was now addressing himself to Luc, as if to invoke his -testimony. - -'Each has his honour, is that not so, monsieur? The strike was -inevitable, and if it had to be begun over again, I should begin it -over again--that is, I should employ my influence in urging my mates to -try to secure justice. One can't let oneself be devoured--work ought -to be paid at its proper price, unless men are willing to become mere -slaves. And we were so much in the right that Monsieur Delaveau had to -give way on every point by accepting our new wage tariff. But I can now -see that he is furious, and that somebody, as my wife puts it, has got -to pay for the damage. If I were not to go off willingly to-day, he'd -find a pretext for turning me out to-morrow. So what? Am I to hang on -obstinately and become a pretext for everlasting disputes? No, no! It -would all fall on my mates, it would bring them all sorts of worries, -and it would be very wrong of me. I pretended to go back, because my -mates talked of continuing the strike if I didn't. But now that they -are all back at work and quite quiet I prefer to take myself off. That -will settle everything; none of them will stir, and I shall have done -what I ought to do. That's my view of honour, monsieur--each has his -own.' - -He said all this with simple grandeur, with so easy and courageous -an air that Luc felt deeply touched. From that man whom he had seen -black and taciturn, toiling so painfully before his furnace, from that -man whom he had seen gentle and kindly, tolerant and conciliatory in -household matters, there now arose one of the heroes of labour, one -of those obscure strugglers who have given their whole being to the -cause of justice, and who carry their brotherliness to the point of -immolating themselves in silence for the sake of others. - -Without ceasing to draw her needle La Toupe meanwhile repeated -violently: 'And we shall starve.' - -'And we shall starve, it's quite possible,' said Bonnaire, 'but I shall -be able to sleep in peace.' - -Ragu began to sneer. 'Oh! starve, that's useless, that's never done any -good. Not that I defend the masters--a pretty gang they are, all of -them! Only as we need them we always have come to an understanding with -them, and do pretty well as they want.' - -He rattled on, jesting, and revealing his true nature. He was the -average workman, neither good nor bad, the spoilt product of the -present-day wage system. He cried out at times against capitalist rule, -he was enraged by the strain of the labour imposed on him, and was even -capable of a short rebellion. But prolonged atavism had bent him; he -really had the soul of a slave, respecting established traditions and -envying the employer--that sovereign master who possessed and enjoyed -everything; and the only covert ambition that he nourished was that of -taking the employer's place some fine morning in order to possess and -enjoy life in his turn. Briefly his ideal was to do nothing, to be the -master so that he might have nothing to do. - -'Ah! that pig Delaveau!' he said, 'I should like to be just a week in -his skin and to see him in mine. It would amuse me to see him smoking -one of those big cigars of his while making a ball. But everything -happens, you know, and we may all become masters in the next shake-up!' - -This idea amused Bourron vastly; he gaped with admiration before Ragu -whenever they had drunk together. 'That's true, ah! dash it, what a -spree it will be when we become the masters!' - -But Bonnaire shrugged his shoulders, full of contempt for that base -conception of the future victory of the toilers over their exploiters. -He had read, reflected, and he thought he knew. Excited by all that had -just been said, wishing to show that he was right, he again spoke. In -his words Luc recognised the Collectivist idea such as it is formulated -by the irreconcilable ones of the party. First of all the nation had -to resume possession of the soil and all instruments of labour in -order to socialise and restore them to one and all. Then labour would -be reorganised, rendered general and compulsory, in such wise that -remuneration would be proportionate to the hours of toil which each man -supplied. The matter on which Bonnaire grew muddled was the practical -method to employ in order to establish this socialisation, and -particularly the working of it when it should be put into practice; for -such intricate machinery would need direction and control, a harsh and -vexatory State police system. And when Luc, who did not yet go so far -as Bonnaire did in his humanitarian cravings, offered some objections, -the other replied with the quiet faith of a believer: 'Everything -belongs to us; we shall take everything back, so that each may have -his just share of work and rest, trouble and joy. There is no other -reasonable solution, the injustice and the sufferings of the world have -become too great.' - -Even Ragu and Bourron agreed with this. Had not the wage-system -corrupted and poisoned everything! It was that which disseminated -anger and hatred, gave rise to class warfare, the long war of -extermination which capital and labour were waging. It was by the -wage-system that man had become wolfish towards man amidst the -conflict of egotism, the monstrous tyranny of a social system based -on iniquity. Misery had no other cause. The wage-system was the evil -ferment which engendered hunger with all its disastrous consequences, -theft, murder, prostitution, the downfall and rebellion of men and -women cast beyond the pale of love, thrown like perverse, destructive -forces athwart society. And there was only one remedy, the abolition -of the wage-system, which must be replaced by the other, the new, -dreamt-of system, whose secret to-morrow would disclose. From that -point began the battle of the systems, each man thinking that in his -own system rested the happiness of the coming centuries; and a bitter -political _mêlée_ resulted from the clashing of the Socialist parties, -each of which sought to impose on the others its own plans for the -reorganisation of labour and the equitable distribution of wealth. But -none the less the wage-system in its present form was condemned by one -and all, and nothing could save it; it had served its time, and it -would disappear even as slavery, once so universal, had disappeared -when one of the periods of mankind's history had ended by reason of the -ever-constant onward march. That wage-system even now was but a dead -organ which threatened to poison the whole body, and which the life of -nations must necessarily eliminate under penalty of coming to a tragic -end. - -'For instance,' Bonnaire continued, 'those Qurignons who founded the -Abyss were not bad-hearted people. The last one, Michel, who came to -so sad an end, tried to ameliorate the workman's lot. It is to him -one owes the creation of a pension fund, for which he gave the first -hundred thousand francs, engaging also to double every year such sums -as were paid in by the subscribers. He also established a free library, -a reading-room, a dispensary where one can see the doctor gratis twice -a week, a workshop, too, and a school for the children. And though -Monsieur Delaveau isn't at all so well disposed towards the men, he -has naturally been obliged to respect all that. It has been working -for years now, but when all is said it's of no good at all. It's mere -charity; it isn't justice! It may go on working for years and years -without starvation and misery being any the less. No, no, the people -who talk of "relieving" distress are simply good-natured fools; there's -no relief possible, the evil has to be cut off at the root.' - -At this moment old Lunot, whom the others thought asleep again, spoke -from out of the shadows: 'I knew the Qurignons,' said he. - -Luc turned and perceived him on his chair, vainly pulling at his -extinguished pipe. He was fifty years old, and had remained nearly -thirty years a drawer at the Abyss. Short and stout as he was, with a -pale, puffy face, one might have thought that the furnaces had swollen -instead of withering him. Perhaps it was the water with which he had -been obliged to drench himself in the performance of his work that had -first given him the rheumatics. At all events he had been attacked -in the legs at an early age, and now he could only walk with great -difficulty. And as he had not fulfilled the necessary conditions to -obtain even the ridiculous pension of three hundred francs a year[3] -to which the new workmen would be entitled later on, he would have -perished of starvation in the streets, like some old stricken beast -of burden, if his daughter, La Toupe, on the advice of Bonnaire, had -not taken him in, making him pay for her generosity in this respect by -subjecting him to continual reproaches and all sorts of privations. - -'Ah, yes,' he slowly repeated, 'I knew the Qurignons. There was -Monsieur Michel, who's now dead and who was five years older than me. -And there's still Monsieur Jérôme, under whom I first went to the -works when I was eighteen years old. He was already forty-five at that -time, but that doesn't prevent him from still being alive. But before -Monsieur Jérôme, there was Monsieur Blaise, the founder, who first -installed himself at the Abyss with his tilt-hammers nigh on eighty -years ago. I didn't know him myself. But my father Jean Ragu, and my -grandfather, Pierre Ragu, worked with him; and one may even say that -Pierre Ragu was his mate, since they were both mere workmen with hardly -a copper in their pockets when they started on the job together, in -the gorge of the Bleuse Mountains, then deserted, near the bank of -the Mionne, where there was a waterfall. The Qurignons made a big -fortune, whereas here am I, Jacques Ragu, with my bad legs and never -a copper, and here's my son, Auguste, who'll never be any richer than -I am after thirty years' hard work, to say nothing of my daughter and -her children, who are all threatened with starvation, just as the Ragus -have always been for a hundred years or more.' - -It was not angrily that he said these things, but rather with the -resignation of an old stricken animal. For a moment he looked at his -pipe, surprised at seeing no smoke ascend from it. Then, remarking that -Luc was listening to him with compassionate interest, he concluded with -a slight shrug of the shoulders: 'Bah! monsieur, that's the fate of -all of us poor devils! There will always be masters and workmen. My -grandfather and father were just as I am, and my son will be the same -too. What's the use of rebelling? Each of us draws his lot when he's -born. All the same, one thing that's desirable when a man gets old -is that he should at least have the means to buy himself sufficient -tobacco.' - -'Tobacco!' cried La Toupe, 'why you've smoked two sous' worth to-day! -Do you imagine that I'm going to keep you in tobacco, now that we -sha'n't even be able to buy bread?' - -To her father's great despair she rationed him with respect to tobacco. -It was in vain that he tried to get his pipe alight again; decidedly -only ashes were left in it. And Luc, with increasing compassion in -his heart, continued looking at him as he sat there, huddled up on -his chair. The wage-system ended in that lamentable wreck of a man, -the worker done for at fifty years of age, the drawer condemned to -be always a drawer, deformed, hebetated, reduced to imbecility and -paralysis by his mechanical toil. In that poor being there survived -nothing save the fatalist sentiment of slavery. - -But Bonnaire protested superbly: 'No, no! It won't always be like that, -there won't always be masters and toilers; the day will come when one -and all will be free and joyful men! Our sons will perhaps see that -day, and it is really worth while that we the fathers should suffer a -little more if thereby we are to procure happiness for them to-morrow.' - -'Dash it!' exclaimed Ragu, in a merry way. 'Hurry up, I should like to -see that. It would just suit me to have nothing more to do, and to eat -chicken at every meal!' - -'And me too, and me too!' seconded Bourron in ecstasy. 'Keep me a -place!' - -With a gesture expressive of utter disillusion, old Lunot silenced -them in order to resume: 'Let all that be, those are the things one -hopes for when one's young! A man's head is full of folly then, and -he imagines that he's going to change the world. But then the world -goes on, and he's swept away with the others. I bear no grudge against -anybody, I don't. At times, when I can drag myself about a bit, I meet -Monsieur Jérôme in his little conveyance, which a servant pushes along. -And I take off my cap to him, because it's only fit that one should -do so to a man who gave one work to do, and who's so rich. I fancy, -though, that he doesn't know me, for he contents himself with looking -at me with those eyes of his, which seem to be full of clear water. But -when all's said the Qurignons drew the big prize, so they are entitled -to be respected.' - -Ragu thereupon related that Bourron and he, on leaving the works that -very evening, had seen Monsieur Jérôme pass in his little conveyance. -They had taken off their caps to him, and that was only natural. How -could they do otherwise without being impolite? All the same, that a -Ragu should be on foot in the mud, with his stomach empty, bowing to a -well-dressed Qurignon with a rug over him and a servant wheeling him -about like a baby who'd grown too fat, why that was enough to put one -in a rage. In fact it gave one the idea of throwing one's tools into -the water and compelling the rich to shell out, in order that one might -take one's turn in doing nothing. - -'Doing nothing, no, no! That would be death,' resumed Bonnaire. -'Everybody ought to work, in that way happiness would be won, and -unjust misery would at last be vanquished. One must not envy those -Qurignons. When they are quoted as examples, when people say to us: -"You see very well that with intelligence, toil, and economy, a workman -may acquire a large fortune," I feel a little irritated, because I -understand very well that all that money can only have been gained by -exploiting our mates, by docking their food and their liberty; and -a horrid thing like that is always paid for some day! The excessive -prosperity of any one individual will never be in keeping with general -happiness. No doubt we have to wait if we want to know what the future -has in reserve for each of us. But I've told you what my idea is--that -those youngsters of mine in the bed yonder, who are listening to us, -may some day be happier than I shall ever be, and that later on their -children may in turn be happier than they. To bring that about we only -have to resolve on justice, to come to an understanding like brothers, -and secure it, even at the price of a good deal more wretchedness.' - -As Bonnaire said, Lucien and Antoinette had not gone to sleep again. -Interested apparently by all those people who were talking so late, -they lay, plump and rosy, with their heads motionless on the bolster, a -thoughtful expression appearing in their large eyes, as if indeed they -could understand the conversation. - -'Some day happier than us!' said La Toupe viciously. 'Yes, of course, -that is if they don't perish of want to-morrow, since you'll have no -more bread to give them.' - -Those words fell on Bonnaire like a hatchet-stroke. He staggered, -quailing amidst his dream beneath the sudden icy chill of the misery -which he seemed to have sought by quitting the works. And Luc felt -the quiver of that misery pass through that large bare room where the -little petroleum lamp was smoking dismally. Was not the struggle an -impossible one? Would they not all--grandfather, father, mother, and -children--be condemned to an early death if the wage-earner should -persist in his impotent protest against capital? Heavy silence came, -a big black shadow seemed to fall chilling the room, and for a moment -darkening every face. - -But a knock was heard, followed by laughter, and in came Babette, -Bourron's wife, with her dollish face which ever wore a merry look. -Plump and fresh, with a white skin and heavy tresses of a wheaten -hue, she seemed like eternal spring. Failing to find her husband at -Caffiaux's wine-shop, she had come to seek him at Bonnaire's, well -knowing that he had some trouble in getting home when she did not lead -him thither herself. Moreover, she showed no desire to scold; on the -contrary she seemed amused, as if she thought it only right that her -husband should have taken a little enjoyment. - -'Ah! here you are, father Joy!' she gaily cried when she perceived him. -'I suspected that you were still with Ragu, and that I should find you -here. It's late, you know, old man. I've put Marthe and Sébastien to -bed, and now I've got to put you to bed too!' - -Even as she never got angry with him, so Bourron never got angry with -her, for she showed so much good grace in carrying him off from his -mates. - -'Ah! that's a good 'un!' he cried. 'Did you hear it? My wife puts me to -bed! Well, well, I'm agreeable since it always has to end like that!' - -He rose, and Babette, realising by the gloominess of everybody's face, -that she had stumbled upon some serious worry, perhaps even a quarrel, -endeavoured to arrange matters. She, in her own household, sang from -morning till night, showing much affection for her husband, consoling -him and telling him triumphant stories of future prosperity whenever -he felt discouraged. The hateful want in which she had been living -ever since childhood had made no impression upon her good spirits. She -was quite convinced that things would turn out all right, and for ever -seemed to be on the road to Paradise. - -'What is the matter with you all?' she asked. 'Are the children ill?' - -Then, as La Toupe once more exploded, relating that Bonnaire was -leaving the works, that they would all be dead of starvation before a -week was over, and that all Beauclair, indeed, would follow suit, for -people were far too wretched and it was no longer possible to live, -Babette burst forth into protests, predicting no end of prosperous days -of sunshine, in her gay and confident manner. - -'No, no, indeed!' she cried. 'Don't upset yourself like that, my dear. -Everything will settle down, you'll see. Everybody will work and -everybody will be happy.' - -Then she led her husband away, diverting him as she did so, saying such -comical and affectionate things that he, likewise jesting, followed her -with docility, his inebriety being subjugated and rendered inoffensive. - -Luc was making up his mind to follow them when La Toupe, in putting -her work together on the table, there perceived the key which she had -thrown down for her brother to pick up. - -'Well, are you going to take it?' she exclaimed. 'Are you going to bed -or not? You've been told that your hussy's waiting for you somewhere. -Oh! you're free to take her back again if you choose, you know!' - -For a moment Ragu, in a sneering way, let the key swing from one of his -thumbs. Throughout the evening he had been shouting in Bourron's face -that he did not mean to feed a lazybones who had stupidly lost a finger -in a boot-stitching machine, and had not known how to get sufficient -compensation for it. Since his return, however, he had become more -sober, and no longer felt so maliciously obstinate. Besides, his sister -exasperated him with her perpetual attempts to dictate a proper line of -conduct to him. - -'Of course I can take her back if I choose,' he said. 'After all she's -as good as many another. One might kill her and she wouldn't say a bad -word to one.' Then turning to Bonnaire, who had remained silent: 'She's -stupid, is Josine, he said, 'to be always getting frightened like that. -Where has she got to now?' - -'She's waiting on the stairs with Nanet,' said the master puddler. - -Ragu thereupon threw the door wide open to shout: 'Josine! Josine!' - -Nobody replied, however, not the faintest sound came from the dense -darkness enveloping the stairs. In the faint gleam of light which the -lamp cast in the direction of the landing one could see merely Nanet, -who stood there, seemingly watching and waiting. - -'Ah! there you are, you little rascal!' cried Ragu. 'What on earth are -you doing there?' - -The child was in no wise disconcerted, he did not so much as flinch. -Drawing up his little figure, no taller than a jackboot, he bravely -answered: 'I was listening so as to know.' - -'And your sister, where's she? Why doesn't she answer when she's -called?' - -'_Ma grande_? She was upstairs with me, sitting on the stairs. But when -she heard you come in here, she was afraid that you might go up to beat -her. So she thought it best to go down again, so that she could run -away if you were bad-tempered.' - -This made Ragu laugh. Besides the lad's pluck amused him. 'And you, -aren't you frightened?' he asked. - -'I? If you touch me, I'll shriek so loud that my sister will be warned -and able to run away.' - -Quite softened, the man went to lean over the stairs, and call again: -'Josine! Josine! Here, come up, don't be stupid. You know very well -that I sha'n't kill you.' - -But the same death-like silence continued, nothing stirred, nothing -ascended from the darkness. And Luc, whose presence was no longer -requisite, took leave, bowing to La Toupe, who with her lips compressed -stiffly bent her head. The children had gone off to sleep again. Old -Lunot, still with his extinguished pipe in his mouth, had managed to -reach the little chamber where he slept, hugging the walls on his way. -And Bonnaire, who in his turn had sunk upon a chair, silent amidst his -cheerless surroundings, his eyes gazing far away into the threatening -future, was waiting for an opportunity to follow his terrible wife to -bed. - -'Keep up your courage, _au revoir_,' said Luc to him, whilst vigorously -shaking his hand. - -On the landing Ragu was still calling, in tones which now became -entreating: 'Josine! come, Josine! I tell you that I'm no longer angry.' - -And as no sign of life came from the darkness he turned towards Nanet, -who meddled with nothing, preferring that his sister should act as she -pleased: 'Perhaps she's run off,' said the man. - -'Oh! no, where would you have her go? She must have sat down on the -stairs again.' - -Luc was now descending, clinging the while to the greasy rope and -feeling the high and precipitous stairs with his feet for fear lest -he should fall, so dense was the darkness. It seemed to him as if he -were descending into a black abyss by means of a fragile ladder placed -between two damp walls. And as he went lower and lower he fancied that -he could hear some stifled sobs rising from the dolorous depths of the -gloom. - -Overhead Ragu resumed resolutely: 'Josine! Josine! Why don't you -come--do you want me to go and fetch you?' - -Then Luc paused, for he detected a faint breath approaching, something -warm and gentle, a light, living quiver, scarcely perceptible, which -became more and more tremulous as it drew nearer. And he stepped back -close to the wall, for he well understood that a human creature was -about to pass him, invisibly, recognisable only by the discreet touch -of her figure, as she went upward. - -'It is I, Josine,' he whispered, in order that she might not be -frightened. - -The little breath was still ascending, and no reply came. But that -creature, all distress and misery, passed, brushing lightly, almost -imperceptibly against him. And a feverish little hand caught hold of -his own, a burning mouth was pressed to that hand of his, and kissed it -ardently, in an impulse of infinite gratitude instinct with the gift -of a soul. She thanked him, she gave herself, like one unknown, veiled -from sight, full of the sweetest girlishness. Not a word was exchanged; -there was only that silent kiss, moistened by warm tears, in the dense -gloom. - -The little breath had already passed, the light form was still -ascending. And Luc remained overcome, affected to the depths of his -being by that faint touch. The kiss of those invisible lips had gone -to his heart. A sweet and powerful charm had flowed into his veins. -He tried to think that he simply felt well pleased at having at last -helped Josine to secure a resting-place that night. But why had she -been weeping, seated on the step of the stairs on the very threshold of -the house? And why had she so long delayed returning an answer to the -man overhead, who offered her a lodging once more? Was it that she had -experienced mortal grief and regret, that she had sobbed at the thought -of some unrealisable dream, and that in going up at last she had simply -yielded to the necessity of resuming the life which fate condemned her -to lead? - -For the last time Ragu's voice was heard up above. 'Ah! there you -are--it's none too soon. Come, you big stupid, let's go up. We sha'n't -kill one another to-night, at any rate.' - -Then Luc fled, feeling such despair that he instinctively sought the -why and wherefore of that frightful bitterness. Whilst he found his -way with difficulty through the dim maze of the filthy lanes of Old -Beauclair he pondered over things and gave rein to his compassion. Poor -girl! She was the victim of her surroundings, never would she have led -such a life had it not been for the crushing weight and perverting -influence of misery and want. And, picturing mankind as plough land, -Luc thought how thoroughly it would have to be turned over in order -that work might become honour and delight, in order that strong and -healthy love might sprout and flower amidst a great harvest of truth -and justice! Meantime, it was evidently best that the poor girl should -remain with that man Ragu, provided that he did not ill-treat her too -much. Then Luc glanced upward at the sky. The tempest blast had ceased -blowing, and stars were appearing between the heavy and motionless -clouds. But how dark was the night, how great the melancholy in which -his heart was steeped! - -All at once he came out on the bank of the Mionne near the wooden -bridge. In front of him was the Abyss ever at work, sending forth a -dull rumble amidst the clear dancing notes of its tilt-hammers which -the deeper thuds of the helve-hammers punctuated. Now and again a fiery -glow transpierced the gloom, and huge livid clouds of smoke passing -athwart the rays of the electric lamps showed like a stormy horizon -about the works. And the nocturnal life of that monster whose furnaces -were never extinguished brought back to Luc a vision of murderous -labour, imposed on men as in a convict prison, and remunerated, for -the most part, with mistrust and contempt. Then Bonnaire's handsome -face passed before the young fellow's eyes; he perceived him as he -had left him, in the dim room yonder, overcome like a vanquished man -in presence of the uncertain future. And without transition there came -another memory of his evening, the vague profile of Lange the potter, -pouring forth his curse with all the vehemence of a prophet, predicting -the destruction of Beauclair beneath the sum of its crimes. But at that -hour the terrorised town had fallen asleep, and all one could see of it -on the fringe of the plain was a confused dense mass where not a light -gleamed. Nothing indeed seemed to exist save the Abyss, whose hellish -life knew no respite; there a noise as of thunder continually rolled -by, and flames incessantly devoured the lives of men. - -Suddenly a clock struck midnight in the distance. And Luc then crossed -the bridge and again went down the Brias road on his way back to La -Crêcherie, where his bed awaited him. As he was reaching it a mighty -glow suddenly illumined the whole district, the two promontories of -the Bleuse Mountains, the slumbering roofs of the town, and even the -far-away fields of La Roumagne. That glow came from the blast furnace -whose black silhouette appeared half way up the height as in the midst -of a conflagration. And as Luc raised his eyes it once more seemed to -him as if he beheld some red dawn, the sunrise promised to his dream of -the renovation of humanity. - - -[1] That is about 1_d_. per pound. - -[2] 220 1/2 lbs. - -[3] 12_l_. - - - -III - - -On the morrow, Sunday, just as Luc had risen, he received a friendly -note from Madame Boisgelin, inviting him to lunch at La Guerdache. -Having learnt that he was at Beauclair, and that the Jordans would -only return home on the Monday, she told him how happy she would be -to see him again, in order that they might chat together about their -old friendship in Paris, where they had secretly conducted some big -charitable enterprises together in the needy district of the Faubourg -St. Antoine. And Luc, who regarded Madame Boisgelin with a kind of -affectionate reverence, at once accepted her invitation, writing word -that he would be at La Guerdache by eleven o'clock. - -Superb weather had suddenly followed the week of heavy rain by which -Beauclair had almost been submerged. The sun had risen radiantly in -the sky, which was now of a pure blue, as if it had been cleansed -by all the showers. And the bright sun of September still diffused -so much warmth that the roads were already dry. Luc was, therefore, -well pleased to walk the couple of thousand yards which separated La -Guerdache from the town. When, about a quarter past ten, he passed -through the latter--that is, the new town, which stretched from the -Place de la Mairie to the fields fringing La Roumagne--he was surprised -by its brightness, cheerfulness, and trimness, and sorrowfully recalled -the dismal aspect of the poverty-stricken quarter which he had seen -the previous night. In the new town were assembled the sub-prefecture, -the law court, and the prison, the last being a handsome new building, -whose plaster-work was scarcely dry. As for the church of St. Vincent, -an elegant sixteenth-century church astride the old and the now towns, -it had lately been repaired, for its steeple had shown an inclination -to topple down upon the faithful. And as Luc went on he noticed that -the sunlight gilded the smart houses of the _bourgeois_, and brightened -even the Place de la Mairie, which spread out beyond the populous Rue -de Brias, displaying a huge and ancient building which served as both a -town hall and a school. - -Luc, however, speedily reached the fields by way of the Rue de -Formerie, which stretched straight away beyond the square like a -continuation of the Rue de Brias. La Guerdache was on the Formerie -road, just outside Beauclair. Thus Luc had no occasion to hurry; and -indeed he strolled along like one in a dreamy mood. At times he even -turned round, and then, northward, beyond the town, whose houses -descended a slight slope, he perceived the huge bar of the Bleuse -Mountains parted by the precipitously enclosed gorge through which -the Mionne torrent flowed. In that kind of estuary opening into the -plain one could distinctly perceive the close-set buildings and lofty -chimneys of the Abyss as well as the blast-furnace of La Crêcherie--in -fact, quite an industrial city, which was visible from every side of La -Roumagne, leagues and leagues away. Luc remained gazing at the scene -for some little time, and when he slowly resumed his walk towards La -Guerdache, which he could already discern beyond some clusters of -magnificent trees, he recalled the typical history of the Qurignons, -which his friend Jordan had once told him. - -It was in 1823 that Blaise Qurignon, the workman by whom the Abyss had -been founded, had installed himself there, on the bank of the torrent, -with his two tilt-hammers. He had never employed more than a score -of hands, and making but a small fortune, had contented himself with -building near the works a little brick pavilion in which Delaveau, -the present manager, now resided. It was Jérôme Qurignon, the second -of the line, born in the year when his father founded the Abyss, who -became a real king of industry. In him met all the creative power -derived from a long ancestry of workmen, all the incipient efforts, -the century-old growth and rise of 'the people.' Hundreds of years of -latent energy, a long line of ancestors obstinately seeking happiness, -wrathfully battling in the gloom, working themselves at times to -death, now at last yielded fruit, culminated in the advent of this -victor who could toil eighteen hours a day, and whose intelligence, -good sense, and will swept all obstacles aside. In less than twenty -years he caused a town to spring from the ground, gave employment to -twelve hundred workpeople, and gained millions of francs. And at last, -stifling in the humble little house erected by his father, he expended -eight hundred thousand francs[1] on the purchase of La Guerdache, a -large and sumptuous residence in which ten families might have found -accommodation, whilst around it stretched a park and a farm, the whole -forming in fact a large estate. Jérôme was convinced that La Guerdache -would become as it were the patriarchal home of his descendants, all -the bright and loving couples who would assuredly spring from his -wealth as from some blessed soil. For them he prepared a future of -domination based on his dream of subjugating labour and utilising it -for the enjoyment of an _élite_; for was not all the power that he felt -within him definitive and infinite, and would it not even increase -among his children, free from all danger of diminution and exhaustion -during long, long years? But all at once a first misfortune fell upon -this man, who seemed to be as vigorous as an oak-tree. Whilst he was -still young--in his very prime, indeed, only two and fifty years of -age--paralysis deprived him of the use of both his legs, and he had to -surrender the management of the Abyss to Michel, his eldest son. - -Michel Qurignon, the third of the line, was then just thirty. He had a -younger brother, Philippe, who, much against his father's wishes, had -married in Paris a wonderfully beautiful but very flighty woman. And -between the two boys there was a girl, Laure, already five-and-twenty -years old, who greatly distressed her parents by the extreme -religiosity into which she had fallen. - -Michel for his part had, when very young, married an extremely gentle, -loving, but delicate woman, by whom he had two children, Gustave and -Suzanne, the former being five and the latter three years old when -their father was suddenly obliged to assume the management of the -Abyss. It was understood that he should do so in the name and for the -benefit of the whole family, each member of which was to draw a share -of the profits, according to an agreement which had been arrived at. -Although Michel did not in the same high degree possess his father's -admirable qualities, his power of work, his quick intelligence, and -his methodical habits, he none the less at first proved an excellent -manager, and for ten years succeeded in preventing any decline in the -business, which, indeed, he at one moment increased by replacing the -old plant by new appliances. But sorrows and family losses fell upon -him like premonitory signs of a coming disaster. His mother died, his -father was not only paralysed and wheeled about by a servant, but sank -into absolute dumbness after experiencing a difficulty in uttering -certain words. Then Michel's sister, Laure, her brain quite turned -by mystical notions, took the veil, in spite of all the efforts made -to detain her at La Guerdache amidst the joys of the world. And from -Paris, too, Michel received deplorable tidings of the affairs of his -brother Philippe, whose wife was taking to scandalous adventures, -dragging him, moreover, into a wild life of gambling, extravagance, -and folly. Finally Michel lost his own delicate and gentle wife, which -proved, indeed, his supreme loss, for it threw him off his balance -and cast him into a life of disorder. He had already yielded to his -passions, but in a discreet way, for fear of saddening his wife, who -was always ill. But when death had carried her away, nothing was left -to restrain him, and he took freely to a life of pleasure, which -consumed the best part of his time and his energies. - -Then came another period of ten years during which the Abyss declined, -since it was no longer directed by the victorious chief of the days of -conquest, but by a tired and satiated master who squandered all the -booty it yielded. A feverish passion for luxury now possessed Michel, -his existence became all festivity and pleasure, the spending of money -for the merely material joys of life. And the worst was that in -addition to this cause of ruin, in addition, moreover to bad management -and ever-increasing loss of energy, there came a commercial crisis, in -which the whole metallurgie industry of the region nearly perished. It -became impossible to manufacture steel rails and girders cheaply enough -in face of the victorious competition of the works of Northern and -Eastern France, which, thanks to a newly discovered chemical process, -were now able to employ defective ore which formerly it had been -impossible to utilise. Thus, after a struggle of two years' duration, -Michel felt the Abyss crumbling to pieces beneath him, and one day, -when he was already unhinged by having to borrow three hundred thousand -francs to meet some heavy bills then reaching maturity, a horrible -drama drove him to desperation. - -He was then nearly fifty-four years old, and was madly in love with a -pretty girl whom he had brought from Paris and concealed in Beauclair. -At times he indulged in the wild dream of fleeing with her to some -land of the sun, far away from all financial worries. His son Gustave, -who after failing in his studies led an idle life at seven-and-twenty -years of age, resided with him on a footing of friendly equality, well -acquainted with the intrigue, about which indeed he often jested. He -made fun also of the Abyss, refusing to set foot amongst all that -grimy, evil-smelling old iron, for he greatly preferred to ride, -hunt, and shoot, and generally lead the empty life of an amiable -_fin-de-race_ young man, as if he could count several centuries of -illustrious ancestry. And thus it happened that one fine evening, -after 'lifting' out of a _secrétaire_ the single hundred thousand -francs which his father had as yet managed to get together for his -payments, Master Gustave carried off the pretty girl, who had flung her -arms around his neck at the sight of so much money. And on the morrow -Michel, struck both in heart and brain by this collapse of his passion -and his fortune, yielded to the vertigo of horror and shot himself dead -with a revolver. - -Three years had already elapsed since that suicide. And the speedy -downfall of one Qurignon had been followed by that of another and -another, as if by way of example to show how great might prove the -severity of destiny. Shortly after Gustave's departure it was learnt -that he had been killed in a carriage accident at Nice, a pair of -runaway horses having carried him over a precipice. Then Michel's -younger brother Philippe likewise disappeared from the scene, being -killed in a duel, the outcome of a dirty affair into which he had been -drawn by his terrible wife, who was said to be now in Russia with a -tenor, whilst the only child born to them, André Qurignon, the last of -the line, had been sent perforce to a private asylum, since he suffered -from an affection of the spine complicated by mental disorder. Apart -from that sufferer and Laure, who still led a cloistral life, so that -she also seemed to be dead, there remained of all the Qurignons only -old Jérôme and Michel's daughter, Suzanne. - -She, when twenty years of age--that is, five years before her father's -death--had married Boisgelin, who had met her whilst visiting at a -country house. Although the Abyss was then already in peril, Michel -in his ostentatious way had made arrangements which enabled him to -give his daughter a dowry of a million francs. Boisgelin on his side -was very wealthy, having inherited from his grandfather and father a -fortune of more than six millions, amassed in all sorts of suspicious -affairs, redolent of usury and theft--by which he, however, was not -personally besmirched, since he had lived in perfect idleness ever -since his entry into the world. He was held in great esteem and envy, -and people were always eager to bow to him, for he resided in a superb -mansion near the Parc Monceau in Paris, and led a life of wild display -and extravagance. After seeking distinction by remaining invariably the -last of his class at the Lycée Condorcet,[2] which he had astonished by -his elegance, he had never done anything, but imagined himself to be -a modern-style aristocrat, one who established his claim to nobility -by the magnificence he showed in spending the fortune acquired by -his forerunners without even lowering himself to earn a copper. The -misfortune was that Boisgelin's six millions no longer sufficed at last -to keep his establishment on the high footing which it had reached, -and that he allowed himself to be drawn into financial speculations of -which he understood nothing. The Bourse was just then going mad over -some new gold mines, and he was told that by venturing his fortune -he might treble it in two years' time. All at once, however, came -disaster and downfall, and for a moment he almost thought that he was -absolutely ruined, to such a point indeed as to retain not even a crust -of bread for the morrow. He wept like a child at the thought, and -looked at his hands, which had ever idled, wondering what he would now -be able to do, since he knew not how to work with them. It was then -that Suzanne his wife evinced admirable affection, good sense, and -courage, in such wise as to set him on his feet again. She reminded him -that her own million, her dowry, was intact. And she insisted on having -the situation retrieved by selling the Parc-Monceau mansion, which they -would now be unable to keep up. Another million was found in that way. -But how were they to live, particularly in Paris, on the proceeds of -two millions of francs, when six had not sufficed, for temptation would -assuredly come again at the sight of all the luxury consuming the great -city? A chance encounter at last decided the future. - -Boisgelin had a poor cousin, a certain Delaveau, the son of one of his -father's sisters, whose husband, an unlucky inventor, had left her -miserably poor. Delaveau, a petty engineer, occupied a modest post at -a Brias coal-pit at the time when Michel Qurignon committed suicide. -Devoured by a craving to succeed, urged on too by his wife, and very -well acquainted with the situation of the Abyss, which he felt certain -he could restore to prosperity by a new system of organisation, he -went to Paris in search of capitalists, and there, one evening in -the street, he suddenly found himself face to face with his cousin -Boisgelin. Inspiration at once came to him. How was it that he had -not previously thought of that wealthy relative who, as it happened, -had married a Qurignon? On learning what was the present position of -the Boisgelins, now reduced to a couple of millions which they wished -to invest as advantageously as possible, Delaveau extended his plans, -and at several interviews which he had with his cousin displayed so -much assurance, intelligence, and energy, that he ended by convincing -him of success. There was really genius in the plan he had devised. -The Boisgelins must profit by the catastrophe which had fallen on -Michel Qurignon, buy the works for a million francs when they were -worth two millions, and start making steel of superior quality which -would rapidly bring in large profits. Moreover, why should not the -Boisgelins also buy La Guerdache? In the forced liquidation of the -Qurignon fortune they would easily secure it for five hundred thousand -francs, although it had cost eight hundred thousand; and Boisgelin -out of his two millions would then still have half a million left -to serve as working capital for the Abyss. He, Delaveau, absolutely -contracted to increase that capital tenfold and supply the Boisgelins -with a princely income. They would simply have to leave Paris, and live -happily and comfortably at La Guerdache, pending the accumulation of -the large fortune which they would assuredly possess some day, when -they might once more return to Parisian life to enjoy it amidst all the -magnificence they could dream of. - -It was Suzanne who at last secured the compliance of her husband, who -felt anxious at the idea of leading a provincial life in which he would -probably be bored to death. She herself was delighted to return to La -Guerdache, where she had spent her childhood and youth. Thus matters -were settled as Delaveau had foreseen. The liquidation of the Qurignon -estate took place; and the fifteen hundred thousand francs which the -Boisgelins paid for the Abyss and La Guerdache proved barely sufficient -to meet the liabilities, in such wise that Suzanne and her husband -became absolute masters of everything, having no further accounts to -render to the other surviving heirs--that is, Aunt Laure the nun, and -André, the infirm and mentally afflicted young fellow who had been sent -to a private asylum. On the other hand Delaveau carried out all his -engagements, reorganised the works, renewed the plant, and proved so -successful in his management that at the end of the first twelve months -the profits were already superb. In three years the Abyss recovered its -position as one of the most prosperous steel works of the region; and -the money earned for Boisgelin by its twelve hundred workpeople enabled -him to instal himself at La Guerdache on a footing of great luxury: -he had six horses in his stables, five carriages in his coach-house, -and organised shooting-parties, dinner-parties, and all sorts of -festivities, to which the local authorities eagerly sought invitations. -Thus he who during the earlier months had gone about idle and dreary, -quite Paris-sick, now seemed to have accustomed himself to provincial -life, having discovered as it were a little empire, where his vanity -found every satisfaction. Moreover there was a secret cause behind -all other things, an element of victorious conceit in the quietly -condescending manner in which he reigned over Beauclair. - -Delaveau had installed himself at the Abyss, where he occupied Blaise -Qurignon's former house with his wife Fernande and their little girl -Nise, who at that time was only a few months old. He had then completed -his thirty-seventh year, and his wife was ten years younger. Her -mother, a music teacher, had formerly resided on the same floor as -himself in a dark house of the Rue Saint-Jacques in Paris. Fernande was -of such dazzling, sovereign beauty that for more than a twelvemonth, -whenever Delaveau met her on the stairs, he drew back trembling against -the wall like one who felt ashamed of his ugliness and his poverty. -At last, however, salutes were exchanged, and an acquaintance having -sprung up, the girl's mother confided to him that she had lived for -twelve years in Russia as a governess, and that Fernande was her -daughter by a Russian prince by whom she had been deceived. This -prince, who was extremely attached to her, would certainly have dowered -her with a fortune, but one evening at the close of a day's hunt he -was accidentally shot dead, and she then had to return penniless to -Paris with her little girl, and once more give lessons there. Only by -the most desperate hard work did she manage to bring up the child, for -whom, in spite of everything, she dreamt of some prodigious destiny. - -Fernande, reared amidst adulation from her cradle, convinced that her -beauty destined her for a throne, encountered in lieu thereof the -blackest wretchedness, unable to throw her worn-out boots aside since -she knew not how to replace them, and being for ever obliged to repair -and refurbish her old gowns and hats. Anger and such a craving for -victory soon took possession of her, that from her tenth year onward -she did not live a day without learning more and more hatred, envy, -and cruelty, in this wise amassing extraordinary force of perversity -and destructiveness. The climax came when, imagining that her beauty -was bound to conquer by virtue of its all-mightiness, she yielded to a -man of wealth and power who, on the morrow, refused to have anything -more to do with her. This adventure, which she sought to bury in the -bitterest depths of her being, taught her the arts of falsehood, -hypocrisy, and craftiness, which she had not previously mastered. She -vowed that she would not stumble in that way again, for she was far too -ambitious to lead a life of open shame. She realised that it was not -sufficient for a woman to be beautiful; that she must find the proper -opportunity to display her beauty, and must meet a man such as she -could bewitch and turn into her obedient slave. And her mother having -died after trudging for a quarter of a century through the mud of -Paris to give lessons which barely yielded enough money to buy bread, -she, Fernande, felt a first opportunity arise on finding herself in -presence of Delaveau, who, whilst neither handsome nor rich, offered -to marry her. She did not care a pin for him, but she perceived that -he was very much in love with her, and she decided to avail herself -of his arm to enter the world of respectable women in which he would -prove a support and a means towards the end that she had in view. He -had to buy her a trousseau, taking her just as he found her, with -all the faith of a devotee for whom she was a goddess. And from that -time forward destiny followed its course even as she, Fernande, had -desired. Within two months of being introduced at La Guerdache by her -husband, she designedly entered upon an intrigue with Boisgelin, who -had become passionately enamoured of her. In that handsome clubman -and horseman she found the ideal lover for whom she had sought, the -lover all vanity, folly and liberality, who was capable of the worst -things in order to retain his beautiful mistress beside him. And it -so happened, moreover, that she thus satisfied all sorts of spite and -rancour, the covert hatred which she bore her husband, whose toilsome -life and quiet blindness humiliated her, and the growing jealousy which -she felt towards the quiet Suzanne, whom she had detested from the very -first day; this, indeed, being one of the reasons why she had listened -to Boisgelin, for she hoped thereby to make Suzanne suffer. And now all -was festivity at La Guerdache: Fernande reigned there like a beautiful -guest, realising her dream of a life of display, in which she helped -Boisgelin to squander the money which Delaveau wrung in perspiration -from the twelve hundred toilers of the Abyss. And, indeed, she even -hoped that she would some fine day be able to return to Paris and -triumph there with all the promised millions. - -Such were the stories which occupied Luc's thoughts as, sauntering -along, he repaired to La Guerdache in accordance with Suzanne's -invitation. If he did not know everything as yet, he at least already -suspected certain matters, which the near future was to enable him -to fathom completely. At last, as he raised his head, he perceived -that he was only a hundred yards or so from the fine park whose great -trees spread their greenery over a large expanse. Then he paused, -whilst before his mind's eye there arose above all other figures that -of Monsieur Jérôme, the second Qurignon, the founder of the family -fortune, the infirm paralysed man whom only the day before he had met -in his bath-chair, pushed along by a servant near the very entrance of -the Abyss. He pictured him with his lifeless, stricken legs, his silent -lips, and his clear eyes which for a quarter of a century had been -gazing at the disasters that overwhelmed his race. There was his son -Michel, hungering for pleasure and luxury, imperilling the works, and -killing himself as the result of a frightful family drama. There was -his grandson Gustave, carrying off his father's mistress and dashing -his brains out in the depths of a precipice, as beneath the vengeful -pursuit of the Furies. There was his daughter Laure, in a convent, cut -off from the world; and there was his younger son Philippe, marrying -an unworthy woman, gliding with her into the mire, and losing his -life in a duel after the most disgraceful adventures; and there was -his other grandson André, the last of the name, a cripple, shut up -amongst the insane. And yet even now the disaster was continuing; the -annihilation of the family was being completed by an evil ferment, -that Fernande who had appeared among them as if to consummate their -ruin with those terrible, sharp, white teeth of hers. Amidst his long -silence Jérôme had witnessed and was witnessing all those things. But -did he remark them, did he judge them? It was said that his mind had -become weak, and yet how deep and limpid were his eyes! And if he -could think, what thoughts were those that filled his long hours of -immobility? All his hopes had crumbled; the victorious strength amassed -through a long ancestry of toilers, the energy which he thought he was -bound to bequeath to a long line of descendants whose fortune would -ever and ever increase, had now blazed away like a heap of straw in -the fire of worldly enjoyment! In three generations the reserve of -creative power which had required so many centuries of wretchedness -and effort to accumulate had been gluttonously consumed. Amidst the -eager satisfaction of material cravings, the nerves of the race had -become unstrung, refinement had led to destructive degeneracy. Gorged -too quickly, unhinged by possession, the race had collapsed amidst all -the folly born of wealth. And that royal domain La Guerdache, which he -Jérôme had purchased, dreaming of some day peopling it with numerous -descendants, happy couples who would diffuse the blessed glory of his -name, how sad he must feel at seeing half its rooms empty, what anger -he must experience at seeing it virtually handed over to that strange -woman, who brought the final poisonous ferment in the folds of her -skirts! He himself lived there in solitude, keeping up an affectionate -intercourse solely with his granddaughter Suzanne, who was the only -person still admitted to the large room which he occupied on the ground -floor. She, when only ten years old, had already helped to nurse him -there, like a loving little girl touched by her poor grandpapa's -misfortune. And when she had returned to the spot, a married woman, -after the purchase of the family property, she had insisted on her -grandfather remaining there, although nothing belonged to him, for he -had divided his whole property among his children at the time when -paralysis had fallen on him like a thunderbolt. - -Suzanne was not without scruples in this matter. It seemed to her -that in following Delaveau's advice she and her husband had despoiled -the two remaining members of the family, Aunt Laure and André, the -cripple. As a matter of fact they were provided for; and thus it was on -grandfather Jérôme that she lavished her affection, watching over him -like a good angel. But although a smile would appear in the depths of -his clear eyes when he fixed them upon her, there remained as it were -but two cavities seemingly full of spring water in his frigid, deeply -marked countenance, directly the wild life of La Guerdache flitted past -him. Was he conscious of it, and did he think about it, and if so were -not his thoughts compounded of despair? - -Luc found himself at last before the monumental iron gate opening into -the Formerie highway at a point whence started a road leading to the -neighbouring village of Les Combettes, and he simply had to push a -little side gate open in order to reach the royal avenue of elm-trees. -Beyond them one saw the château, a huge seventeenth-century pile, quite -imposing in its simplicity, with its two upper stories each showing a -line of twelve windows, and its raised ground floor, which was reached -by a double flight of steps, decorated with some handsome vases. The -park, which was of great extent, all copses and lawns, was traversed -by the Mionne, which fed a large piece of ornamental water where swans -swam to and fro. - -Luc was already going towards the steps when a light welcoming -laugh made him turn his head. Under an oak-tree, near a stone table -surrounded by some rustic chairs, he then perceived Suzanne, who sat -there with her son Paul playing near her. - -'Why, yes, my friend!' said she, 'I have come down to await my guests, -like a countrywoman who is not afraid of the open air. How kind of you -to accept my abrupt invitation!' - -She smiled at him while offering her hand. She was not pretty, but she -was charming, very fair and small, with a delicate round head, curly -hair, and eyes of a soft blue. Her husband had always considered her -to be somewhat insignificant, never suspecting, it seemed, all the -delightful kindness of heart and sterling good sense which lurked -beneath her great simplicity. - -Luc had taken her hand, and retained it for a moment between both his -own. - -'It was you who were kind to think of me! I am very, very pleased to -meet you again,' he said. - -She was three years his elder, and had first met him in a wretched -house in the Rue de Bercy, where he had resided when beginning life -as an assistant engineer at some adjacent works. Very discreet, and -practising charity in person and by stealth, she had been in the habit -of calling at this house to see a mason who had been left a widower -with six children, two of them little girls. And the young man being -in the garret, with these little girls on his knees, one evening when -she had brought some food and linen, they had become acquainted. Luc -had afterwards had occasion to visit her at the mansion near the Parc -Monceau in connection with other charitable undertakings in which they -were both interested. A feeling of great sympathy had then gradually -drawn them together, and he had become her assistant and messenger in -matters known to them alone. Thus he had ended by visiting the mansion -regularly, being invited to most of the entertainments there during -two successive winters. And it was there too that he had first met the -Jordans. - -'If you only knew how people regret you, how your departure was -lamented!' he added by way of allusion to their former benevolent -alliance. - -Suzanne made a little gesture of emotion, and replied in a low, voice: -'Whenever I think of you, I am distressed that you are not here, for -there is so much to be done.' - -Luc, however, had just noticed Paul, who ran up with some wild flowers -in his hand; and the young man burst into exclamations at seeing how -much the boy had grown. Very fair and slim, he had a gentle, smiling -face, and greatly resembled his mother. - -'Well,' said the latter gaily, 'he will now soon be seven years old. He -is already a little man.' - -Seated and talking together like brother and sister in the warm -radiance of that September day, Luc and Suzanne became so absorbed in -their happy recollections that they did not even perceive Boisgelin -descend the steps and advance towards them. Smart of mien, wearing -a well-cut country jacket, and a single eye-glass, the master of La -Guerdache was a brawny coxcomb with grey eyes, a large nose, and waxed -moustaches. He brought his dark brown hair in curls over his narrow -brow, which was already being denuded by baldness. - -'Good day, my dear Froment,' he exclaimed, with a lisp which he -exaggerated so as to be the more in the fashion. 'A thousand thanks for -consenting to make one of us.' - -Then, without more ado, after a vigorous hand-shake _à l'Anglaise_, he -turned to his wife: 'I say, my dear, I hope orders were given to send -the victoria to Delaveau's.' - -There was no occasion for Suzanne to reply, for just then the victoria -came up the avenue of elms, and the Delaveaus alighted before the -stone table. Delaveau was a short, broad-shouldered man, possessing a -bull-dog's head, massive, low, and with projecting jaw-bones. With his -snub nose, big goggle eyes, and fresh-coloured cheeks half hidden by -a thick black beard, he carried himself in a military, authoritative -manner. A delightful contrast was presented by his wife Fernande, a -tall and supple brunette with blue eyes and superb shoulders. Never -had more sumptuous or blacker hair crowned a more pure or whiter -countenance, with large azure eyes of glowing tenderness, and a small -fresh mouth whose little teeth seemed to be of unchangeable brilliancy, -and strong enough to break pebbles. She herself, however, was proudest -of her delicately shaped feet, in which she found an incontestable -proof of her princely origin. - -She immediately apologised to Suzanne, whilst making a maid alight with -her daughter Nise, who was now three years of age and as fair as her -mother was dark, having a curly tumbled head, eyes blue like the sky, -and a pink mouth which was ever laughing, dimpling the while both her -cheeks and her chin. - -'You must excuse me, my dear,' said Fernande, 'but I profited by your -authorisation to bring Nise.' - -'Oh, you have done quite right,' Suzanne responded; 'I told you there -would be a little table.' - -The two women appeared to be on friendly terms. One could scarcely -detect a slight fluttering of Suzanne's eyelids when she saw Boisgelin -hasten to Fernande, who, however, must have been sulking with him, -for she received him in the icy manner which she was wont to assume -whenever he tried to escape one of her caprices. Looking somewhat -anxious, he came back to Luc and Delaveau, who had made one another's -acquaintance during the previous spring, and were now shaking hands -together. Nevertheless, the young man's presence at Beauclair seemed -somewhat to upset the manager of the Abyss. - -'What! you arrived here yesterday? Of course then you did not find -Jordan at home, since he was so suddenly called to Cannes. Yes, yes, I -was aware of that, but I did not know that he had sent for you. He has -some trouble in hand with respect to his blast-furnace.' - -Luc was surprised at the other's keen emotion, and divined that he -was about to ask him why Jordan had summoned him to La Crêcherie. He -did not understand the reason of such sudden disquietude, and so he -answered chancewise: 'Trouble, do you think so? Everything seems to be -going on all right.' - -However, Delaveau prudently changed the subject, and gave Boisgelin -some good news. China, said he, had just purchased a stock of defective -shells which he had intended to recast. And a diversion came when Luc, -who was extremely fond of children, made merry on seeing Paul give his -flowers to Nise, who was his very particular friend. 'What a pretty -little girl!' exclaimed the young man, 'she is so golden that she looks -like a little sun. How is it possible when her papa and mamma are so -dark?' - -Fernande, who had bowed to Luc, while giving him a keen glance to -ascertain if he were likely to prove a friend or an enemy, was fond of -having such questions put to her; for, putting on a glorious air, she -invariably replied by some allusions to the child's grandfather, the -famous Russian prince. - -'Oh! a superbly built man, very fair and fresh-coloured. I am sure that -Nise will be the very image of him.' - -By this time Boisgelin had apparently come to the conclusion that it -was not the correct thing to await one's guests under an oak tree--only -commonplace _bourgeois_ after retiring from business into the country -could venture to do so--and accordingly he led the whole party towards -the drawing-room. At that moment Monsieur Jérôme made his appearance, -in his little conveyance propelled by a servant. The old man had -insisted on living quite apart from the other inmates of La Guerdache; -he had his own hours for rising, going to bed, and going out; and he -invariably took his meals by himself. He would not let the others -occupy themselves with him, and indeed it was an established rule in -the house that he should not even be spoken to. Thus, when he suddenly -appeared before them they contented themselves with bowing in silence, -Suzanne alone smiling and giving him a long and affectionate glance. -On his side Monsieur Jérôme, who was starting on one of those long -promenades which at times kept him out of doors the whole afternoon, -gazed at the others fixedly like some forgotten onlooker who has -ceased to belong to the world and no longer responds to salutations. -And beneath the cold keenness of the old man's stare Luc felt his -uneasiness, his torturing doubts return. - -The drawing-room was a rich and extremely large apartment, hung with -red brocatelle and furnished sumptuously in the Louis-Quatorze style. -The party had scarcely entered it when some other guests arrived, -Sub-Prefect Châtelard, followed by Mayor Gourier, the latter's wife -Léonore, and their son Achille. Châtelard, who at forty could still -claim to be a good-looking man, was bald, with an aquiline nose, a -discreet mouth, and large eyes which shone keenly behind the glasses -he wore. He was a piece of Parisian wreckage, who, after losing his -hair and his digestion in the capital, had secured the sub-prefecture -of Beauclair as an asylum, thanks to an intimate friend who had been -pitchforked into office as a minister of state. Deficient in ambition, -suffering from a liver complaint, and realising the necessity of rest, -he had fallen upon pleasant lines there through making the acquaintance -of the beautiful Madame Gourier, with whom he carried on an unclouded -_liaison_, which was favourably viewed by those he governed, and even -accepted, it was said, by the lady's husband, the latter's thoughts -being given elsewhere. Léonore was still a fine-looking woman at -eight-and-thirty, fair, with large regular features, and she outwardly -displayed extreme piety, prudishness, and coldness; though according -to some accounts an everlasting brazier of passions blazed within her. -Gourier, a fat, common-looking man, ruddy, with a swollen neck and a -moon-like face, spoke of his wife with an indulgent smile. He paid far -more attention to the girls of his boot factory, which he had inherited -from his father, and in which he had personally made a fortune. The -only remaining tie between his wife and himself was their son Achille, -a youth of eighteen, who, although he was very dark, had his mother's -regular features and fine eyes, and evinced an amount of intelligence -and independence which confounded and annoyed both his parents. On -whatever terms they themselves lived together, they at all events -showed perfect agreement in the presence of strangers; and, indeed, -since Châtelard had made their acquaintance the happiness of their -household was cited as an example. Moreover, the administration of the -town was greatly facilitated by the close intercourse that prevailed -between the sub-prefect and the mayor. - -But other guests were now arriving; for instance, Judge Gaume, -accompanied by his daughter Lucile, and followed by the latter's -betrothed, Jollivet, a captain on the retired list. Gaume, a man with a -long head, a lofty brow, and a fleshy chin, was barely five-and-forty, -but seemed desirous of remaining forgotten in that out-of-the-way nook -Beauclair on account of the terrible tragedy which had wrecked his -life. His wife, forsaken by a lover, had one evening killed herself -before him, after confessing her fault. And however frigid and severe -the judge might seem to be, he had really remained inconsolable, -tortured by that terrible catastrophe, and at the present time full -of fears for the future of his daughter, to whom he was extremely -attached, and who, as she grew up, had become more and more like her -mother. Short, and slight, and refined, and of an amorous disposition, -with melting eyes set in a bright face crowned with hair of a -golden-chestnut hue, Lucile ever reminded her father of her mother's -transgression, and for fear lest something similar should happen -to her, he had betrothed her as soon as she was twenty to Captain -Jollivet, though he realised in doing so that it would be painful for -him to part with her and that he would afterwards sink into bitter -solitude. - -Captain Jollivet, though he looked rather worn for a man only -five-and-thirty years old, was none the less a handsome fellow with a -stubborn brow and victorious moustaches. Fever contracted in Madagascar -had compelled him to send in his papers; and having just then inherited -an income of twelve thousand francs a year, he had decided to establish -himself at Beauclair, his native place, and marry Lucile, whose cooing -turtle-dove ways had quite upset him. Gaume, who had no fortune of -his own, and lived poorly on his pay as a presiding judge, could not -decline the proposals of such a suitor. Yet his secret despair seemed -to increase, for never had he evinced more severity in applying the -law, rigorously following the strict, stern wording of the Code. People -said, however, that implacable as he might seem to be, he was really a -disheartened man, a disconsolate pessimist who doubted everything, and -particularly human justice. If that were true, what must have been his -sufferings, the sufferings of a judge who, while asking himself if he -has any right to do so, passes sentences on unhappy wretches who are -really the victims of everybody's crime? - -Soon after the Gaumes came the Mazelles with their daughter Louise, a -child three years of age, another guest for the little table. These -Mazelles were a perfectly happy couple, two stout folks of the same -age--that is, little more than forty--and they had grown so much -alike in course of time that each now had the same rosy smiling face, -the same gentle parental way as the other. They had spent a hundred -thousand francs to install themselves in true _bourgeois_ fashion in -a fine substantial house surrounded by a fairly large garden near the -sub-prefecture; and they lived therein on an income of some fifteen -thousand francs a year derived from investments in Rentes, which to -their fancy alone seemed safe. Their happiness, the beatitude of their -life, which was now spent in doing nothing, had become proverbial. -Often were people heard to say: 'Ah! if one could only be like Monsieur -Mazelle who does nothing! He's lucky and no mistake!' - -To this he answered that he had worked hard during ten years, and was -fully entitled to his fortune. The fact was that, after beginning life -as a petty commission agent in the coal trade, he had found a bride -with a dowry of fifty thousand francs, and had been skilful or perhaps -simply lucky enough to foresee the strikes, whose frequent recurrence -over a period of nearly ten years were destined to bring about a -considerable rise in the prices of French coal. His great stroke had -consisted in making sure at the lowest possible prices of some very -large stocks of coal abroad and in re-selling them at a huge profit -to French manufacturers when a sudden failure in their own supplies -was forcing them to close their works. At the same time Mazelle had -shown himself a perfect sage, retiring from business when he was nearly -forty--that is, as soon as he found himself in possession of the six -hundred thousand francs which, according to his calculation, would -ensure his wife and himself a life of perfect felicity. He had not -even yielded to the temptation of trying to make a million, for he was -far too much afraid that fortune might play him false. And never had -egotism triumphed more serenely, never had optimism a greater right to -say that everything was for the best in the best of worlds, than in -the case of these perfectly worthy people, who were very fond of one -another and of that tardy arrival, their little girl. Fully satisfied, -free from all feverishness, having no further ambition to satisfy, -they presented a perfect picture of happiness--the happiness which -shuts itself up and does not even glance at the unhappiness of others. -The only little flaw in this happiness lay in the circumstance that -Madame Mazelle, a very plump and blooming dame, imagined that she was -afflicted with some serious, nameless, undefinable complaint, on which -account she was all the more coddled by her ever-smiling husband, who -spoke with a kind of tender vanity about 'my wife's illness' in the -same way as he might have spoken of 'my wife's wonderful golden hair.' -Withal, this supposed illness gave rise to no sadness or fear. And it -was simply with astonishment that the worthy couple contemplated their -little girl, Louise, who was growing up so unlike either of them--that -is, dark, thin, and quick, with an amusing little head, which, with -its obliquely set eyes and slender nose, suggested that of a young -goat. This astonishment of theirs was rapturous, as if the child had -fallen from heaven as a present, to bring a little life into their -sunshiny house, which fell asleep so easily during their long hours of -placid digestion. Beauclair society willingly made fun of the Mazelles, -comparing them to pullets in a fattening pen, but it none the less -respected them, bowed to them, and invited them to its entertainments; -for with their fortune, which was so safe and substantial, they reigned -over the workers, the poorly, paid officials, and even the millionaire -capitalists, since the latter were always liable to some catastrophe. - -At last the only other guest expected at La Guerdache that day, Abbé -Marle, the rector of St. Vincent, the rich parish of Beauclair, -arrived, none too soon, however, for the others were about to enter -the dining-room. He apologised for being late, saying that his duties -had detained him. He was a tall, strong man, with a square-shaped -face, a beak-like nose, and a large firm mouth. Still young, only -six-and-thirty, he would willingly have battled for the Faith had it -not been for a slight impediment of speech which rendered preaching -difficult. This explained why he was resigned to burying himself -alive at Beauclair. The expression of his dark stubborn eyes alone -testified to his past dream of a militant career. He was not without -intelligence, he perfectly understood the crisis through which -Catholicism was passing, and whilst preserving silence with respect -to the fears which he sometimes experienced when he saw his church -deserted by the masses, he clung strictly to the letter of the Church's -dogmas, feeling certain that the whole of the ancient edifice would -be swept away should science and the spirit of free examination -ever effect a breach in it. Moreover, he accepted the invitations -to La Guerdache without any illusions concerning the virtues of the -_bourgeoisie_. Indeed, he lunched and dined there in some measure from -a spirit of duty, in order to hide the sores whose existence he divined -there under the cloak of religion. - -Luc was delighted with the gay brightness and pleasant luxuriousness of -the spacious dining-room which occupied one end of the ground floor, -and had a number of large windows overlooking the lawns and trees -of the park. All that verdure seemed to belong to the room, which, -with its pearl-grey woodwork and hangings of a soft sea-green, became -like the banqueting-hall of some idyllic _féerie champêtre_. And the -richness of the table, the whiteness of the napery, the blaze of the -silver and crystal, the flowers, too, spread over the board, were a -festival for the eyes amidst a wondrous setting of light and perfume. -So keenly was Luc impressed by it all, that his experiences on the -previous evening suddenly arose before his mind's eyes, and he pictured -the black and hungry toilers tramping through the mud of the Rue de -Brias, the puddlers and drawers roasting themselves before the hellish -flames of the furnaces, and particularly Bonnaire in his wretched home, -and the woeful Josine seated on the stairs, saved from starving that -night, thanks to the loaf which her little brother had stolen. How -much unjust misery there was! And on what accursed toil, what hateful -suffering was based the luxury of the idle and the happy! - -At table, where covers were laid for fifteen, Luc found himself placed -between Fernande and Delaveau. Contrary to proper usage, Boisgelin, -who had Madame Mazelle on his right, had placed Fernande on his left. -He ought to have assigned that seat to Madame Gourier, but in friendly -houses it was understood that Léonore ought always to be placed near -her friend Sub-Prefect Châtelard. The latter naturally occupied the -place of honour on Suzanne's right hand, Judge Gaume being on her -left. As for Abbé Marle, he had been placed next to Léonore, his most -assiduous and preferred penitent. Then the betrothed couple, Captain -Jollivet and Lucile, sat at one end of the table facing young Achille -Gourier, who, at the other end, remained silent between Delaveau and -the abbé. And Suzanne, full of foresight, had given orders for the -little table to be set behind her, so that she might be near to watch -it. Seven-year-old Paul presided over it between three-year-old Nise -and three-year-old Louise, who both behaved in a somewhat disquieting -fashion, for their little paws were continually straying over the -plates and into the glasses. Luckily a maid remained beside them, while -at the larger table the waiting was done by the two valets, whom the -coachman assisted. - -As soon as the scrambled eggs, accompanied by sauterne, had been -served, a general conversation was started. Reference was made to the -bread supplied by the Beauclair bakers. - -'It was impossible for me to get used to it,' said Boisgelin. 'Their -fancy bread is uneatable, so I get mine from Paris.' - -He said this in the simplest manner possible, but they all glanced with -vague respect at their rolls. However, the unpleasant occurrences of -the previous evening still haunted every mind, and Fernande exclaimed: -'By the way, do you know that they pillaged a baker's shop in the Rue -de Brias last night?' - -Luc could not help laughing. 'Oh, madame, pillaged!' said he, 'I was -there. It was simply a wretched child who stole a loaf.' - -'We were there too,' declared Captain Jollivet, ruffled by the -compassionate, excusing tone of the young man's voice. 'It is much to -be regretted that the child was not arrested, at least for example's -sake.' - -'No doubt, no doubt,' Boisgelin resumed. 'It seems that there has been -a lot of thievery since that wretched strike. I have been told of a -woman who broke open a butcher's till. All the tradespeople complain -that prowlers fill their pockets with things set out for sale.... And -so our beautiful new prison is now receiving tenants--is that not so, -Monsieur le Président?' - -Gaume was about to answer when the Captain violently resumed: 'Yes, -theft unpunished begets pillage and murder. The spirit predominating -among the working-class population is becoming something frightful. -Some of you were out in the town yesterday evening like I was. Didn't -you notice that spirit of revolt, of passing menace--a kind of terror -that made the town tremble? Besides, that Anarchist, Lange, did not -hesitate to tell you what he intended doing. He shouted that he would -blow up Beauclair and sweep away the ruins. As he, at any rate, is -under lock and key, I hope that he will be sharply looked after.' - -Jollivet's outspokenness astonished everybody. What was the use of -recalling that gust of terror of which he spoke, and which the others -like himself had felt passing--why revive it, as it were, at that -pleasant table laden with such nice and beautiful things? A chill -spread round; the threat of what the morrow might bring forth resounded -in the ears of all those nervous _bourgeois_ amidst the deep silence, -whilst the valets came and went, offering trout. - -Realising that the silence was embarrassing everybody, Delaveau at last -exclaimed: 'Lange shows a detestable spirit. The Captain's right; as -the rascal is under lock and key he should be kept there.' - -But Judge Gaume was wagging his head. At last, in his severe way, his -countenance quite rigid, in such wise that one could not tell what -might lurk behind his professional stiffness, he retorted, 'I must -inform you that this morning the investigating magistrate, acting on my -advice, after subjecting the man to a simple interrogatory, made up his -mind to release him.' - -Protests arose, concealing real fear beneath humorous exaggeration: -'Oh, do you want us all to be murdered then, Monsieur le Président?' - -Gaume replied by slowly waving his hand, a gesture which might mean -many things. After all, the wise course was certainly to refrain from -imparting, by some uproarious trial at law, any excessive importance -to the words which Lange had cast to the winds, for the more those -words were spread, the more would they bear fruit. - -Jollivet, who had calmed down, sat gnawing his moustaches, for he did -not wish to contradict his future father-in-law openly. But Sub-Prefect -Châtelard, who had hitherto contented himself with smiling, in the -affable way of a man who puts faith in nothing, exclaimed: 'Ah! I quite -understand your views, Monsieur le Président. What you have done is, -in my opinion, excellent policy. The spirit of the masses is not worse -at Beauclair than it is elsewhere. That spirit is everywhere the same; -one must strive to accustom oneself to it; and the proper course is to -prolong the present state of things as much as possible, for it seems -certain that when a change comes it will be for the worse.' - -Luc fancied that he could detect some jeering irony in the words and -manner of that ex-reveller of Paris, who was doubtless amused by the -covert terror of the provincial _bourgeois_ around him. Moreover, -Châtelard's practical policy was summed up entirely in what he had -said; apart from that he evinced superb indifference, no matter what -minister might be in office. The old Government machine continued -working from force of acquired motion; there was grating and there were -jolts, and things would fall to pieces and crumble into dust as soon as -the new social system might appear. There would be a nasty tumble at -the end of the journey, as Châtelard, laughing, was wont to say among -his intimates. The machine rolled on because it was wound up, but at -the first really serious jolt it would go to the deuce. Even the vain -efforts that were attempted to strengthen the crazy old coach, the -timid reforms which were essayed, the useless new laws which men voted -without even daring to put the old ones into force, the furious surging -of ambitions and personalities, the wild, rageful battling of parties, -were only calculated to aggravate and hasten the supreme agony. Such -a _régime_ must feel astonished every morning at finding itself still -erect, and must say to itself that the downfall would surely occur on -the morrow. He, Châtelard, being in no wise a fool, arranged matters -so as to last as long as the _régime_ did. A prudent Republican, as -it was needful to be, he represented the Government just sufficiently -to retain his post, doing only what was necessary, and desiring above -all things to live in peace with those under his jurisdiction. And if -everything should topple over, he at all events would try not to be -under the ruins! - -'You see very well,' he concluded, 'that the unfortunate strike which -rendered us all so anxious has ended in the best manner possible.' - -Mayor Gourier was not endowed with the sub-prefect's caustic -philosophy, although as a rule they agreed together in such wise as to -facilitate the administration of the town. He now protested: 'Allow -me, allow me, my dear friend, too many concessions might carry us a -long way. I know the working classes, I am fond of them, I am an old -Republican, a democrat of the early days. But if I grant the workers -the right to improve their lot, I will never accept the subversive -theories, those ideas of the Collectivists, which would bring all -civilised society to an end.' - -In his loud but trembling voice rang out the fears which he had lately -experienced, the ferocity of a threatened _bourgeois_, the innate -desire for repression which had at one moment displayed itself in a -desire to summon the military, in order that the strikers might be -forced to resume work under the penalty of being shot. - -'Well, for my part, I've done everything for the workpeople at my -factory,' he continued; 'they've got relief funds, pension funds, cheap -dwellings, every advantage imaginable. So what more can they want? It -seems as if the world were coming to an end--is that not so, Monsieur -Delaveau?' - -The manager of the Abyss had so far continued eating ravenously, and -listening, scarcely taking part in the conversation. - -'Oh, coming to an end,' said he, in his quiet energetic manner; 'I -certainly hope that we sha'n't allow the world to end without fighting -a little to make it last. I am of the same opinion as Monsieur le -Sous-Préfet, the strike has ended very well. And I have even had some -good news. Bonnaire, the Collectivist, the leader whom I was compelled -to take back, has done justice to himself--he quitted the works last -night. He is an excellent workman, no doubt; but he's wrong-headed--a -dangerous dreamer. And it is dreaming that leads one to precipices.' - -He went on talking, striving to appear very loyal and just. Each had a -right to defend his own interests. By going out on strike the workmen -fancied that they were serving their interests. He, as manager of the -works, defended the capital, the plant, the property entrusted to -him. And he was willing to show some indulgence, since he felt himself -to be the stronger. His one duty was simply to maintain what existed, -the working of the wage-system such as it had been organised by the -wisdom born of experience. All practical truth centred in that; apart -from it there were but criminal dreams, such as that Collectivism, -the enforcement of which would have brought about the most frightful -catastrophes. He also spoke of workmen's unions and syndicates, which -he resisted energetically, for he divined that they might prove a -powerful engine of war. At the same time he triumphed like an active -hard-working manager, who was well pleased that the strike had not -caused greater ravages or become a positive disaster, in such wise as -to prevent him from carrying out his engagements with his cousin that -year. - -Just then the two valets were handing round some roast partridges, -whilst the coachman, acting as butler, offered some St. Émilion. - -'And so,' said Boisgelin, in a bantering way, 'you promise me that we -sha'n't be reduced to potatoes, and that we may eat those partridges -without any twinges of remorse?' - -A loud burst of laughter greeted this jest, which was deemed extremely -witty. - -'I promise it,' gaily said Delaveau, who laughed like the others. 'You -may eat and sleep in peace--the revolution which is to carry away your -income won't take place to-morrow.' - -Luc, who remained silent, could feel his heart beating. That was indeed -the position, the wage system, the capitalist exploiting the labour of -the others. He advanced five francs, made them produce seven francs, -by making the workmen toil, and spent the two francs profit. At least, -however, that man Delaveau worked, exerted his brain and his muscles; -but by what right did Boisgelin, who had never done anything, live and -eat in such luxury? Luc was struck, too, by the demeanour of Fernande, -who sat beside him. She appeared to be greatly interested in that -conversation, though it seemed little suited to women. She grew both -excited and delighted over the defeat of the toilers and the victory -of that wealth which she devoured like the young wolf she was. Her red -lips curved over, displaying her sharp teeth while she laughed the -laugh of cruelty, as if indeed she were at last satisfying her rancour -and her cravings, in front of the gentle woman whom she was deceiving, -between her foppish lover, whom she dominated, and her blind husband, -who was gaining future millions for her. She seemed to be already -intoxicated by the flowers, the wines, and the viands, intoxicated -especially by perverse delight at employing her radiant beauty to bring -disorder and destruction into that home. - -'Isn't there some question of a charity bazaar at the sub-prefecture?' -asked Suzanne of Châtelard in a soft voice. 'Suppose we talk of -something else besides politics?' - -The gallant sub-prefect immediately adhered to her views: 'Yes, -certainly, it is unpardonable on our part. I will give every _fête_ you -may desire, dear madame.' - -From that moment the general conversation ceased; each reverted to -his or her favourite subject. Abbé Marle had contented himself with -nodding approvingly in response to certain declarations made by -Delaveau. The priest behaved with great prudence in that circle, for he -was distressed by the misconduct of Boisgelin, the scepticism of the -sub-prefect, and the open hostility of the mayor, who made a parade of -anti-clerical ideas. Ah! how the abbé's gorge rose at the thought of -that social system which he was called upon to support, and which ended -in such a _débâcle_! His only consolation was the devout sympathy of -Léonore, who sat beside him, muttering pretty phrases whilst the others -argued. She likewise transgressed, but at least she confessed her -faults, and he could already picture her at the tribunal of penitence, -accusing herself of having derived too much pleasure at that lunch from -the attentions of Sub-Prefect Châtelard, who sat on her other hand. - -Like the priest, worthy Monsieur Mazelle, who remained almost forgotten -between Judge Gaume and Captain Jollivet, had only opened his mouth -to take in quantities of food, which he chewed very slowly, owing to -his fears of indigestion. Political matters no longer interested him, -since, thanks to his income, he had placed himself beyond the reach -of storms. Nevertheless he was compelled to lend ear to the theories -of the captain, who was eager to pour forth his feelings on such a -quiet listener. The army, so the captain said, was the school of the -country. France, in accordance with her immutable traditions, could -only be a warlike nation, and would only recover equilibrium when she -reconquered Europe and reigned by force of arms. It was stupid of -people to accuse military service of disorganising labour. What labour, -whose labour, indeed? Did anything of that exist? Socialism! why it -was a stupendous farce! There would always be soldiers, and down below -there must be people to do the fatigue duties. A sabre could at any -rate be seen, but who had ever seen the Idea, that famous Idea, the -pretended Queen of the Earth. The captain laughed at his own wit; and -worthy Mazelle, who felt profound respect for the army, complacently -laughed with him; whilst Lucile, his betrothed, examined him in silence -with the side-long glances of an enigmatical _amorosa_, smiling faintly -and strangely the while, as if amused to think what a husband he would -make. Meantime, at the other end of the table, young Achille Gourier -immured himself in the silence of a witness and a judge, his eyes -gleaming with all the contempt which he felt for his parents and the -friends with whom they compelled him to take lunch. - -However, at the moment when a _pâté_ of ducks' liver, a perfect marvel, -was being served, another voice arose, and was heard by everybody--it -was that of Madame Mazelle, hitherto silent, busy with her plate and -her mysterious complaint which required ample nourishment. Finding -herself neglected by Boisgelin, whose attention was given entirely -to Fernande, she had ultimately fallen on Gourier, to whom she gave -particulars about her home, her perfect agreement with her husband, and -her ideas of the manner in which she meant to have her daughter Louise -educated. - -'I won't let them worry her brain, ah! no, indeed! why should she -worry? She's an only child, she will inherit all our Rentes.' - -All at once, without reflecting, Luc yielded to his desire to protest: -'But don't you know, madame,' said he, 'that they are going to suppress -the right of inheritance? Oh yes, very soon, directly the new social -system is organised.' - -All round the table it was thought that he was jesting, and Madame -Mazelle's stupefaction was so comical to behold that everybody helped -on the joke. The right of inheritance suppressed! How infamous! What! -the money earned by the father would be taken from the children, and -they in their turn would have to earn their own bread? Why, yes, of -course, that was the logical outcome of Collectivism. Mazelle, quite -scared by it all, came to his wife's help, saying that he did not feel -anxious, for his whole fortune was invested in State Rentes, and nobody -would ever dare to touch the national ledgers. - -'That's just where you make a mistake, monsieur,' Luc quietly resumed; -'the national ledgers will be burnt and Rentes will be abolished. It is -already resolved upon.' - -At this the Mazelles nearly suffocated. Rentes abolished! It seemed -to them that this was as impossible as the fall of the sky upon their -heads. And they were so distracted, so terrified by the threat of -such an inversion of the laws of nature that Châtelard good-naturedly -decided to reassure them. Turning slightly towards the little table, -where, in spite of Paul's fine example, the little girls Nise and -Louise had not behaved particularly well, he said in a bantering -fashion: 'No, no, all that won't happen to-morrow; your little girl -will have time to grow up and have children of her own--only it will be -as well to clean her, for I fancy that she has been dipping her face in -the whipped cream.' - -They went on jesting and laughing. Yet one and all had felt the great -breath of To-morrow passing, the breeze of the Future blowing across -the table, whence it swept away iniquitous luxury and poisonous -enjoyment. And they all rushed to the help of Rentes and capital, the -_bourgeois_ and capitalist society based upon the wage system. - -'The Republic will kill itself on the day it touches property,' said -Mayor Gourier. - -'There are laws, and everything would crumble to pieces on the day they -might cease to be enforced,' said Judge Gaume. - -'Dash it! the army's there at all events, and the army won't allow the -rogues to triumph,' said Captain Jollivet. - -'Let God act, He is all kindness and justice,' said Abbé Marle. - -Boisgelin and Delaveau contented themselves with approving, for it was -to their help that all the social forces hastened. And Luc understood -the position clearly: it was the Government, the administration, the -magistracy, the army, the clergy which sustained the decaying social -system, the monstrous structure of iniquity in which the murderous toil -of the greater number fed the corrupting sloth of the few. This was -another phase of the terrible vision which he had beheld the previous -day. After gazing upon the rear he now saw the front of that rotting -social edifice which was collapsing upon every side. And even here, -amidst all that luxury and those triumphal surroundings, he had again -heard it cracking. He could detect that those people were all anxious -but strove to forget and to divert their minds whilst rushing on -towards the precipice. - -The dessert was now being served, and the table was covered with pastry -and magnificent fruit. The better to bring back the good spirits of -the Mazelles, the others, as soon as the champagne was poured out, -began to sing the praises of idleness, divine idleness, which belongs -not to this world. And then Luc, as he continued reflecting, suddenly -understood what it was that weighed upon his mind: it was the problem -of how the future might be freed, in presence of those folks who -represented the unjust and tyrannical authority of the past. - -After coffee, which was served in the drawing-room, Boisgelin suggested -a stroll through the park as far as the farm. Throughout the repast he -had been prodigal in his attentions to Fernande, but she still gave him -the cold shoulder, refraining even from answering him, and reserving -her bright smiles for the sub-prefect seated in front of her. Matters -had been like this for a week past, and were always so when he did -not immediately satisfy one of her caprices. The real cause of their -present quarrel was that she had insisted on his giving a stag-hunt -for the sole delight of showing herself at it in a new and appropriate -costume. He had taken the liberty to refuse, as the expenses would be -very great; and, moreover, Suzanne, having been warned of the matter, -had begged him to be a little reasonable. Thus a struggle had ended by -breaking out between the two women, and it was a question which of them -would win the victory, the wife or the other. - -During lunch Suzanne's sad and gentle eyes had missed nothing of -Fernande's affected coldness and her husband's anxious attentions. And -so when the latter proposed a stroll she understood that he was simply -seeking an opportunity to be alone with her sulky rival, in order to -defend himself and win her back. Greatly hurt by this, but incapable -of battling, Suzanne sought refuge in her suffering dignity, saying -that she should remain indoors in order to keep the Mazelles company. -For they, from considerations of health, never bestirred themselves on -leaving table. Judge Gaume, his daughter Lucile, and Captain Jollivet -also declared that they should not go out; and this led to Abbé Marle -proposing to play the judge a game of chess. Young Achille Gourier -had already taken leave, under pretext that he was preparing for -an examination, but in reality to indulge freely in his favourite -reveries as he strolled about the country. And so only Boisgelin, the -sub-prefect, the Delaveaus, the Gouriers, and Luc repaired to the farm, -walking slowly towards it under the lofty trees. - -On the way thither things passed off very correctly; the five men -walked on together, whilst Fernande and Léonore brought up the rear, -deep apparently in some confidential chat. Among the men Boisgelin -had now begun to bewail the misfortunes of agriculture: the soil was -becoming bankrupt, said he, and all who tilled it were hastening to -ruin. Châtelard and Gourier agreed that the terrible problem for -which no solution had hitherto been found lay in the direction of -agriculture: for in order that the industrial workman might produce, -it was necessary that bread should be cheap, and if corn fetched only -a low price, the peasant, reduced to beggary, could no longer purchase -the products of industry. Delaveau, for his part, believed that a -solution might be found in an intelligent system of protection. As for -Luc, who took a passionate interest in the matter, he did his utmost to -make the others talk, and Boisgelin ended by confessing that his own -despair came largely from the continual difficulties that he had with -his farmer Feuillat, whose demands increased year by year. He would -doubtless have to part with the man when the renewal of the lease was -discussed, for the farmer had asked for a reduction of terms amounting -to no less than ten per cent. The worst was that, fearing his lease -might not be renewed, he had ceased to take proper care of the land, -which he no longer manured, since it was not for him, he said, to work -for his successor's benefit. This, of course, meant the sterilisation -of the property, whose value would thus be annihilated. - -'And it's everywhere the same,' continued Boisgelin; 'people don't -agree; the workers want to take the places of the owners, and -agriculture suffers from the quarrel. At Les Combettes now, that -village yonder, whose land is only separated from mine by the Formerie -road, you can't imagine what little agreement there is among the -peasants, what efforts each of them makes to harm his neighbour, -paralysing himself the while! Ah, there was something good in feudality -after all! Those fine fellows would walk straight enough if they had -nothing of their own, and were convinced that they would never have -anything!' - -This abrupt conclusion made Luc smile. Nevertheless, he was struck by -the unconscious confession that the pretended bankruptcy of the soil -came from a lack of agreement among those who tilled it. The party -was now quitting the park, and the young man's glance ranged over the -great plain of La Roumagne, formerly so famous for its fruitfulness, -but now accused of growing cold and sterile, and of no longer yielding -sustenance for its inhabitants. On the left spread the extensive lands -of Boisgelin's farm, whilst on the right Luc perceived the humble roofs -of Les Combettes, around which were grouped many small fields, cut -up into little morsels by repeated partition amongst numerous heirs, -in such wise that the whole resembled a stretch of patchwork. And -Luc asked himself what could possibly be done in order that cordial -agreement might return, in order that from so many contradictory -and barren efforts a great impulse of solidarity might spring, with -universal happiness for its object. - -It so happened that as the promenaders were approaching the farmhouse, -a large and fairly well-kept building, they heard some loud swearing -and thumping of fists upon a table--in fact, all the uproar of a -violent quarrel. Then they saw two peasants, one stout and heavy, -and the other thin and nervous, come out of the house, and after -threatening one another for a last time, go off, each by a different -path, through the fields towards Les Combettes. - -'What's the matter, Feuillat?' Boisgelin inquired of the farmer who had -come to his threshold. - -'Oh! it's nothing, monsieur; only two more fellows of Les Combettes who -had a dispute about a boundary, and wanted me to umpire between them. -The Lenfants and the Yvonnots have been disputing together from father -to son for years and years past, and it maddens them nowadays merely to -catch sight of one another. It's of no use my talking reason to them. -You heard them just now! They'd like to devour one another. And, _mon -Dieu_, what fools they are! they'd be so happy and well off if they -would only reflect and agree together a little bit.' - -Then, sorry, perhaps, that he had allowed this remark to escape him, -for it was not one which the master should have heard, Feuillat let his -eyelids fall, and with an expressionless, impenetrable face, resumed in -a husky voice: 'Would the ladies and gentlemen like to come in and rest -a moment?' - -Luc, however, had previously seen the man's eyes glittering. He was -surprised to find him so wan and dry, as if his tall slim figure were -already grilled by the sunlight, although he was but forty years of -age. At the same time Feuillat was possessed of quick intelligence, as -the young man soon discovered on listening to his conversation with -Boisgelin. When the latter, in a laughing way, inquired if he had -thought over the matter of the lease, the farmer wagged his head and -answered briefly, like a careful diplomatist desirous of gaining his -point. He evidently kept back his real thoughts--the thought that the -land ought to belong to those who tilled it, to one and all of them, in -order that they might once more love and fertilise it. 'Love the soil!' -said he, with a shrug of the shoulders. His father and his grandfather -had loved it passionately, but what good had that done to them? For -his part, his love could wait until he was able to fertilise the soil -for himself and his kindred, and not for a landlord, whose one thought -would be to raise the rent as soon as the crops should increase. And -there was something else beneath the man's reticence, something that -he pictured whenever he tried to peer into the future: a reasonable -agreement among the peasantry, the reunion of all the subdivided -fields so that they might be worked in common, so that tillage might -be carried on upon a vast scale with the help of machinery. Such, -indeed, were the few ideas which had gradually come to his mind, ideas -which were best kept from the _bourgeoisie_, but which, all the same, -occasionally escaped him. - -The promenaders had ended by entering the farmhouse to sit down there -and rest a moment; and Luc there again found the coldness and bareness, -the odour of toil and poverty with which he had been struck so much on -the previous evening at Bonnaire's home in the Rue des Trois Lunes. -Dry and ashen, like her man, La Feuillat stood there in an attitude of -silent resignation beside her one child, Léon, a big boy of twelve, who -already helped his father in the fields. And it was evident to Luc that -on all sides, among the peasants as among the industrial workmen, one -found labour accursed, dishonoured, regarded as a stain, a disgrace, -since it did not even provide food for the slave, who was riveted to -his toil as to a chain. In the neighbouring village of Les Combettes -the sufferings were certainly greater than at that farm; the dwellings -there were sordid dens, the life was that of domestic animals fed -upon sops; the Lenfants, with their son Arsène and their daughter -Olympe, the Yvonnots, who also had two children, Eugénie and Nicolas, -all found themselves in filthy abject wretchedness, and added to their -woes by their rageful passion to prey on one another. Luc, listening -and glancing around him, pictured all the horrors of that social hell, -telling himself the while, however, that the solution of the problem -lay in that direction, for as soon as a new social system should be -perfected one would necessarily have to come back to the earth, the -eternal nurse, the common mother who alone could provide men with daily -bread. - -At last, on leaving the farm, Boisgelin said to Feuillat: 'Well you -must think it over, my good fellow. The land has gained in value, and -it's only just that I should profit by it.' - -'Oh! it's all thought over now, monsieur,' the farmer answered. 'It -will suit me just as well to starve on the road as in your farm.' That -was his last word. - -On the way back to La Guerdache, by another more solitary and shady -road of the park, the party of ladies and gentlemen broke up. The -sub-prefect and Léonore lingered in the rear, and soon found themselves -far behind the others, whilst Boisgelin and Fernande gradually drew -upon one side, and disappeared as if mistaking their way, straying -into lonely paths amidst their animated conversation. Meantime the -two husbands, Gourier and Delaveau, placidly continued following the -avenue, talking as they went about an article on the end of the strike -that had appeared in the 'Journal de Beauclair,' a little print with -a circulation of five hundred copies which was published by a certain -Lebleu, a petty clerical-minded bookseller, and which counted among -its contributors both Abbé Marle and Captain Jollivet. The mayor -deplored that the Deity should have been introduced into the affair, -though, like the manager of the Abyss, he approved of the general tone -of the article, which was a perfect chant of triumph celebrating the -victory of capital over the wage-earners in the most lyric style. Luc, -walking near the others, grew weary of hearing their comments on this -article; and at last, after manœuvring so as to let them distance him, -he plunged among the trees, confident that he would find La Guerdache -again as soon as was necessary. - -How charming was the solitude amidst those dense thickets through which -the warm September sun sent a rain of golden sparks! For a time the -young man wandered at random, well pleased at finding himself alone, -at being able to breathe freely in the midst of nature, relieved of -the load that had oppressed him in the presence of all those folks who -weighed upon his mind and heart. Yet he was thinking of joining them -once more, when all at once near the Formerie road he came out into -some extensive meadows through which a little branch of the Mionne -coursed, feeding a large pond. And the scene which he there encountered -greatly amused him, fraught as it was with charm and hope. - -Paul Boisgelin had obtained permission to take his two little guests, -Nise Delaveau and Louise Mazelle, to this spot. The maids in charge of -them were lying down under a willow and gossiping, paying no further -attention to the children. But the great feature of the adventure was -that the heir of La Guerdache and the young ladies in bibs had found -the pond in the possession of some working-class invaders, three -youngsters who had either climbed a wall or slipped through a hedge. -To his surprise Luc found that the leader and soul of the trespassing -expedition was Nanet, behind whom were Lucien and Antoinette Bonnaire. -Evidently enough it was Nanet who, profiting by the freedom of Sunday, -had led the others astray far from the Rue des Trois Lunes. And the -explanation of it all was simple enough. Lucien had fitted a little -boat with a mechanism that carried it over the water; and Nanet having -offered to take him to a fine pond he knew, one where nobody was ever -met, the little boat was now sailing unaided over the clear unrippled -pool. To the children it seemed quite a prodigy. - -Lucien's stroke of genius had simply consisted in adapting the wheels -and clockwork springs of a little toy cart to a boat which he had -fashioned out of a piece of deal. This boat travelled quite thirty feet -through the water without the spring requiring to be wound afresh; but -unfortunately, in order to bring the boat back again it was necessary -to use a long pole, which on each occasion almost made the little -vessel sink. - -Speechless with admiration, Paul and his young lady friends stood on -the bank of the pond, watching the wonderful boat. But Louise, with her -eyes glittering in her slender face, which suggested that of a playful -little goat, was soon carried away by a boundless desire to possess the -toy, and thrusting out her little fists she cried repeatedly: 'Want it! -Want it!' - -Then, as Lucien, with the aid of his pole, brought the boat back to -shore, in order to wind up the spring afresh, she eagerly ran towards -him. Good nature and the pleasure of play brought them together. - -'I made it, you know,' said the lad. - -'Oh! let me see! give it me!' replied the damsel. - -But that was asking him too much, and he energetically defended the -boat from the approach of her pillaging hands. - -'No, no,' said he, 'it gave me too much trouble. Leave go or you'll -break it.' - -However, finding her very pretty and gay, he became more cordial, and -said to her: 'I'll make you another one if you like.' - -Then he put the boat in the water again, and the wheels once more -began to revolve, whilst Louise accepted his offer, clapping her hands -and sitting down on the grass by his side, in her turn won over, and -treating him as if he were an habitual playfellow. - -Meantime it vaguely occurred to Paul, who was the oldest of the whole -party, quite a little man of seven, that he ought to find out who the -others were. Noticing Antoinette, he felt emboldened by her amiable -demeanour, her healthy, pretty face, so he inquired: 'How old are you?' - -'I'm four years old, but papa says I look as if I was six.' - -'Who's your papa?' - -'Who is papa? why, papa, of course, silly!' - -The little minx laughed in such a pretty way that Paul regarded her -answer as decisive, and questioned her no further, but sat down by her -side, in such wise that they at once became the best friends in the -world. She looked so pleasant with her good health and pert expression -that he doubtless failed to notice that she wore a very simple woollen -frock devoid of all pretensions to elegance. - -'And your papa,' said she. 'Do all these trees belong to him? What a -lot of room you have to play in! We got in through the hole in the -hedge over there, you know.' - -'It isn't allowed,' said Paul. 'And I'm not often allowed to come here, -since I might fall into the water. But it's so amusing! You mustn't say -anything, because we should get punished if you did.' - -But all at once a dramatic incident occurred. Master Nanet, who was -so fair and wavy-haired, had been standing in admiration before Nise, -who was yet fairer and more wavy-haired than himself. They looked like -two toys, and they speedily ran towards one another, as if indeed it -were needful that they should pair off, and had been awaiting that -meeting. Catching hold of each other's hands they laughed face to face, -and played at pushing. Then Nanet, in a spirit of bravado, exclaimed: -'There's no need of a pole to get his boat. I'd go and fetch it in the -water, I would!' - -Stirred to enthusiasm, Nise, who likewise favoured extraordinary -diversions, seconded the proposal: 'Yes, yes, we all ought to get into -the water! Let's all take our shoes off!' - -Then, however, as she leant over the pond she almost fell into it. At -this, all her girlish boastfulness abandoned her, and she raised a -piercing shriek when she saw the water wetting her boots. But the lad -bravely rushed forward, caught hold of her with his little arms, which -were already strong, and carried her like a trophy to the grass, where -she again began to laugh and play with him, the pair of them rolling -about like a couple of romping kids. Unfortunately the shrill cry which -Nise had raised in her fright had roused the maids from their forgetful -gossiping under the willow. They rose, and were stupefied at the sight -of the invaders, those youngsters who had sprung they knew not whence, -and who had the impudence to romp with the children of well-to-do -_bourgeois_. The servants hurried up with such angry mien that Lucien -hastened to take possession of his boat, for fear lest it should be -confiscated, and ran off as fast as his little legs would carry him, -followed by Antoinette and even Nanet, who was likewise panic-stricken. -They rushed to the hedge, fell flat upon their stomachs, slipped out -and disappeared, whilst the servants returned to La Guerdache with -their three charges, agreeing between themselves that they would say -nothing of what had occurred, in order that nobody might be scolded. - -Luc remained alone, laughing, amused by the scene that he had thus come -upon, under the paternal sun, in the midst of friendly nature. Ah! -the dear little ones, how soon they agreed together, how easily they -overcame all difficulties, ignorant as they were of all fratricidal -struggles; and what hope of a triumphant future they brought with them! - -In five minutes the young man reached La Guerdache again, and there -he once more fell into the horrible present, reeking of egotism, the -hateful battle-field un which all evil passions contended. It was now -four o'clock, and the Boisgelins' guests were taking leave. - -Luc was most struck, however, on perceiving Monsieur Jérôme reclining -in his bath-chair on the left of the flight of steps. The old gentleman -had just returned from his long promenade, and had signed to his -servant to leave him there a little while in the warmth of the sun, as -if indeed he desired to witness the departure of the guests invited -to the house that day. On the steps, amongst the ladies and gentlemen -all ready to depart, stood Suzanne, waiting for her husband, who had -lingered in the park with Fernande. Some minutes had elapsed after -the return of the others when she at last saw Boisgelin appear with -the young woman. They were walking quietly side by side, and chatting -together as if their long stroll were the most natural thing in the -world. Suzanne asked no explanations, but Luc plainly saw that her -hands trembled, and that an expression of dolorous bitterness passed -over her face between her smiles, for she had to play the part of a -good hostess and affect amiability. And she felt keenly wounded, and -could not help starting when Boisgelin, addressing Captain Jollivet, -declared that he should soon go to see him, in order that they might -consult together and organise that stag-hunt which hitherto he had but -vaguely thought of. Thus the die was cast, the wife was defeated, the -other had won the day, had imposed her foolish and wasteful whim upon -her lover during that long stroll which for impudence was tantamount -to a publicly given assignation. Suzanne's heart rose rebelliously at -the thought of it all. Why should she not take her son and go away -with him? Then by a visible effort she calmed herself, becoming very -dignified and lofty, bent on shielding the honour of her name and her -house with all the abnegation of a virtuous woman, relapsing into the -silence of heroic affection, that silence in which she had resolved to -live, since it would protect her from all the mire around her. Luc, who -could divine everything, now only detected her torment in the quiver of -her feverish hand when he pressed it on bidding her good-bye. - -Monsieur Jérôme, meanwhile, had watched the scene with those eyes of -his, clear like spring water, in which one wondered whether there -yet lingered intelligence to understand and judge things. And he -afterwards witnessed the departure of the guests--that departure which -suggested a _défilé_ of all the elements of human power, all the -social authorities, the masters who served as examples to the masses. -Châtelard went off in his carriage with Gourier and Léonore, the -latter of whom offered a seat to Abbé Marle, in such wise that she and -the priest sat face to face with the sub-prefect and the mayor. Then -Captain Jollivet, who drove a hired tilbury, carried off Judge Gaume -and his betrothed Lucile, the former anxiously watching his daughter's -languishing turtle-dove airs. Next the Mazelles, who had arrived in a -huge landau, climbed into it again as into a soft bed, where they lay -back, completing their digestion. And Monsieur Jérôme, to whom they all -bowed in silence, according to the custom of the house, watched them -all go, like a child may watch passing shadows, without the faintest -expression of any feeling appearing on his cold face. - -Only the Delaveaus remained, and the manager of the Abyss insisted on -giving Luc a lift in Boisgelin's victoria, in order to spare him the -necessity of walking. It would be easy enough to set the young man down -at his door, since they would pass La Crêcherie on their way. As there -was only a folding bracket seat Fernande would take Nise on her lap, -and the maid would sit beside the coachman. - -'Come, Monsieur Froment, it will be a real pleasure for me to drive you -home,' Delaveau insisted in his most obliging way. - -Luc ended by accepting the offer. Then Boisgelin clumsily referred to -the hunt again, inquiring if the young man would still be at Beauclair -in order to attend it. Luc answered that he could not tell how long he -might be in the district, but at all events they must not rely on him. -Suzanne listened with a smile. Then, her eyes moistening at the thought -of his brotherly sympathy, she again pressed his hand, saying: '_Au -revoir_, my friend.' - -When the victoria eventually started, Luc's eyes for the last time met -those of Monsieur Jérôme, which, it seemed to him, were travelling from -Fernande to Suzanne, slowly taking note of the supreme destruction with -which his race was threatened. But was not that an illusion on Luc's -part, was there not in the depths of those eyes merely the emotion, the -vague smile which always gleamed therein whenever the old man looked at -his dear granddaughter, the only one whom he still loved, and whom he -was still willing to recognise? - -Whilst the victoria was rolling towards Beauclair Luc promptly learnt -why Delaveau had been so anxious to drive him home, for the manager -again began to question him about his sudden journey--what its purpose -might be, and what Jordan would do with reference to the management -of his blast-furnace now that the old engineer Laroche was dead. -One of Delaveau's secret projects had been to buy the blast-furnace -as well as the extensive tract of land which separated it from the -steel-works, in such wise as to double the value of the Abyss. But the -whole constituted a big mouthful, and as he did not expect to have -the necessary money for such a purchase for a long time to come, he -had only thought of slow, progressive extension. On the other hand, -the sudden death of Laroche had now quickened his desires, and he -had fancied that he might perhaps be able to come to arrangements -with Jordan, whom he knew to be immersed in his favourite scientific -studies, and desirous of ridding himself of a business which brought -him a deal of worry. This was why the sudden arrival of Luc in response -to a summons from Jordan had greatly disturbed Delaveau, who feared -that the young man might upset the plans of which he had hitherto only -spoken indirectly. At the first questions which the manager put to him -in a good-natured way, Luc, although unable to understand everything, -became suspicious, and he therefore replied evasively: - -'I know nothing, I have not seen Jordan for more than six months,' -said he. 'As for his blast-furnace, why, I suppose that he will simply -confide the management to some clever young engineer.' - -Whilst he spoke, he noticed that Fernande's eyes never left him. Nise -had fallen asleep on the young woman's lap, and she kept silence, -seemingly greatly interested in the conversation of the others, as if -she could divine that her future was at stake, for she had already -detected that this young man was an enemy. Had he not sided with -Suzanne in the matter of the hunt; had not she, Fernande, seen them in -cordial agreement, with their hands clasped like brother and sister? -Then, feeling that war was virtually declared between them, she smiled -a keen, cruel smile, like one determined on victory. - -'Oh! I merely mention the matter,' repeated Delaveau, beating a -retreat, 'because I was told that Jordan thought of confining himself -to his studies and discoveries. Some of the latter are admirable!' - -'Yes, admirable!' repeated Luc, with the conviction of an enthusiast. - -At last the carriage stopped before La Crêcherie, and the young man -alighted, thanked Delaveau, and found himself alone. He again felt -the great quiver that had come upon him during those two days which -beneficent destiny had granted him since his arrival at Beauclair. He -had there seen both sides of the hateful world whose framework was -falling to pieces from sheer rottenness: the iniquitous misery of -some, the pestilential wealth of others. Work, badly remunerated, held -in contempt, unjustly apportioned, had become mere torture and shame -when it should have been the very nobility, health, and happiness of -mankind. Luc's heart was bursting at the thought of it all, and his -brain seemed to open as if to give birth to the ideas which he had felt -within him for months past. And a cry for justice sprang from his whole -being. Ay, there was no other possible mission nowadays than that of -hastening to the succour of the wretched, and setting a little justice -once more upon the earth. - - -[1] £32,000. - -[2] The Lycée Condorcet (formerly Bonaparte) has always been both the -most elegant and the most literary of all the Paris State colleges. Th. -de Banville, Dumas fils, the brothers de Goncourt, the younger Guizots, -Eugène Sue, Taine, Alphonse Karr, Prévost-Paradol, &c., were educated -there; and among those who sat on the forms in my time there--during -the Second Empire--were many who have since become distinguished French -journalists, authors, and statesmen.--_Trans._ - - - -IV - - -The Jordans were to return to Beauclair on the Monday by a train -arriving in the evening. And Luc spent the morning of that day in -strolling through the park of La Crêcherie, which was not more -than fifty acres in extent, though its exceptional situation, its -watercourses and superb greenery, made it quite a paradise, famous -throughout the whole region. - -The house, a by no means large building of brick, of no particular -style, had been erected by Jordan's grandfather in the time of Louis -XVIII. on the site of an old château destroyed during the Revolution. -Close behind it rose the range of the Bleuse Mountains, that steep -gigantic wall which jutted out like a promontory at the point where the -Brias gorge opened into the great plain of La Roumagne. Protected in -this wise from the north winds, and looking towards the south, the park -was like a natural hot-house where eternal springtide reigned. - -Thanks to a number of springs gushing forth in crystalline cascades -the rocky wall was covered with vigorous vegetation, and goat-paths, -flights of steps cut in the stone, ascended to the summit amidst -climbing plants and evergreen shrubs. Down below, the springs united, -and flowing on in a slow river, watered the whole park, the great -lawns, and the clumps of lofty trees, which were of the finest and -most vigorous kinds. Jordan had virtually left that luxuriant corner -of nature to look after itself, for he only employed one gardener and -two lads, who, apart from attending to the kitchen garden and a few -flower-beds below the house-terrace, simply had to keep things somewhat -tidy. - -Jordan's grandfather, Aurélien Jordan de Beauvisage, was born in 1790 -on the eve of the Reign of Terror. The Beauvisages, one of the most -ancient and illustrious families of the district, had then already -fallen from their high estate, and of their formerly vast territorial -possessions they only retained two farms--now annexed to Les -Combettes--and between two and three thousand acres of bare rock and -barren moor, a broad strip indeed of the lofty plateau of the Bleuse -Mountains. Aurélien was less than three years old when his parents were -compelled to emigrate, abandoning their flaming château one terrible -winter's night. And until 1816 Aurélien had his home in Austria, where -his mother and then his father died in swift succession, leaving him in -a fearful state of penury, reared in the hard school of manual toil, -with no other bread to eat than that which he earned as a worker in -an iron mine. He had just completed his twenty-sixth year when, under -Louis XVIII., he returned to Beauclair and found the ancestral property -still further diminished, for the two farms were lost, and there now -only remained the little park and the two or three thousand acres of -stones which nobody cared for. Misfortune had democratised Aurélien, -who felt that he could no longer be a Beauvisage. Henceforth then he -simply signed himself Jordan, and he married the daughter of a very -rich farmer of Saint-Cron, his wife's dowry enabling him to build on -the site of the old château the _bourgeoise_ brick residence in which -his grandson now dwelt. But he had become a worker, his hands were -still grimy, and he remembered the iron mine and blast-furnace where -he had toiled in Austria. Already in 1818 he began to look around him, -and, at last, among the desolate rocks of his domain, he discovered -a similar mine, the existence of which he had been led to suspect by -certain old stories told him by his parents. And then, half-way up the -ridge on a kind of natural landing or platform, above La Crêcherie, he -installed his own blast-furnace, the first established in the region. -From that moment he became absorbed in industrial toil, though without -ever realising any very large profits, for he lacked capital, and -his life proved one continual battle from that cause. His only title -to the gratitude of the district was that by the presence of his -blast-furnace he brought thither the iron-workers who had created all -the great establishments of the present time, among others being Blaise -Qurignon, the drawer by whom the Abyss had been founded in 1823. - -Aurélien Jordan had but one son, Séverin, born to him when he was more -than five-and-thirty, and it was only when this son replaced him after -his death in 1852 that the blast-furnace of La Crêcherie became really -important. Séverin had married a Demoiselle Françoise Michon, daughter -of a doctor of Magnolles, and his wife proved a woman of exquisite -kindliness and very superior intelligence. In her were personified -the activity, wisdom, and wealth of the household. Guided, loved, and -sustained by her, her husband excavated fresh galleries in his mine, -increased the output of ore tenfold, and almost rebuilt the furnace in -order to endow it with the most perfect plant then known. And thus, -amidst the great fortune which they acquired, the only grief of the -Jordans was to remain for many years childless. They had been married -ten years, and Séverin was already forty, when a son, Martial, was at -last born to them; and ten years later they finally had a daughter, -Sœurette. This belated fruitfulness crowned their lives; Françoise, -who had been so good a wife, proved also a most admirable mother, -one who battled victoriously against death on behalf of her son, a -weakling, and endowed him with her own intelligence and kindliness. -Doctor Michon, her father, a humanitarian dreamer, full of divine -charitableness, a Fourierist and Saint-Simonian of the first days, -withdrew in his old age to La Crêcherie, where his daughter built him -a pavilion, the one indeed which Luc had lately occupied. There it was -that the doctor died among his books, amidst all the gaiety of sunshine -and flowers. And until the death of Françoise, the fondly loved mother, -which occurred five years after that of the grandfather and father, La -Crêcherie lived on amidst all the joy of never-failing prosperity and -felicity. - -Martial Jordan was thirty years of age, and Sœurette was twenty, when -they first found themselves alone; and five years had now elapsed -since that time. He, in spite of his indifferent health, the frequent -illnesses of which his mother had cured him by force of love, had -passed through the Polytechnic School. But on his return to La -Crêcherie, finding himself master of his destiny, thanks to the large -fortune he inherited, he had relinquished all thoughts of official -appointments, and had taken passionately to the investigations which -the application of electricity offered to studious scientists. On one -side of the house he built a very spacious laboratory, installed the -necessary machinery for powerful motive force in an adjacent shed, and -then gradually took to special studies, surrendering himself almost -completely to the dream of smelting ore in electrical furnaces in a -practical way adapted to the requirements of industry. And from that -time he virtually cloistered himself, lived like a monk, absorbed in -his experiments, his great work, which became as it were his very -life. Beside him, his sister had now taken his dead mother's place; -and indeed, before long Sœurette was like his faithful guardian, -his good angel, one who took every care of him, and set round him -all the warm affection that he needed. Moreover she managed the -household, spared him many material worries, served him as a secretary -and assistant-preparator, rendered all sorts of help ever gently -and quietly with a placid smile upon her face. The blast-furnace -luckily gave no trouble, for the old engineer Laroche, a bequest of -Aurélien Jordan, the founder, had been there more than thirty years, -in such wise that the present owner, deeply immersed in his studies -and experiments, was able to detach himself entirely from business -matters. He left the worthy Laroche free to manage the blast-furnace -in accordance with the routine of years; for he himself had ceased to -bother about possible ameliorations, since he cared nothing for mere -relative, transitory improvements now that he had begun to seek the -radical change, the art of smelting by electrical means, which would -revolutionise the whole world of metallurgical industry. Indeed, it was -often Sœurette who had to intervene and come to a decision on certain -matters with Laroche, particularly when she knew that her brother's -mind was busy with some important investigation, and she did not wish -him to be disturbed by any outside matters. Now, however, Laroche's -sudden death had so thoroughly upset the usual well-regulated order -of things, that Jordan, who deemed himself sufficiently rich, and had -no ambition apart from his studies, would willingly have rid himself -of the blast-furnace by at once opening negotiations with Delaveau, -whose desires were known to him, had not Sœurette more prudently -obtained from him a promise that he would in the first place consult -Luc, in whom she placed great confidence. Thence had come the pressing -call addressed to the young man which had brought him so suddenly to -Beauclair. - -Luc had first met the Jordans, brother and sister, at the Boisgelins' -residence in Paris, in which city they had established themselves -one winter in order to prosecute certain studies successfully. Great -sympathy had arisen between them, based, on Luc's side, upon his -great admiration for the brother, whose scientific talent transported -him, and upon deep affection mingled with respect for the sister, -who seemed to him like some divine personification of goodness. He -himself was then working with the celebrated chemist Bourdin, studying -some iron ores overcharged with sulphur and phosphates which it was -desired to turn to commercial use. And Sœurette recalled certain -particulars that he had given her brother on this subject one evening -which she well remembered. Now, for more than ten years the mine -discovered by Aurélien Jordan on the plateau of the Bleuse Mountains -had been abandoned, as in the veins reached by the workers sulphur and -phosphorus prevailed to such a point that the ore no longer yielded -enough metal to pay the cost of extraction. Thus the working of the -galleries had ceased, and the smeltery of La Crêcherie was now fed -by the Granval mines near Brias; a little railway line bringing the -ore, which was of fairly good quality, as well as the coal of the -neighbouring pits, to the charging platform of the furnace. But all -this was very costly, and Sœurette often thought of those chemical -methods, the employment of which, according to what Luc had said, might -perhaps enable them to work their own mine afresh. And in her desire to -consult the young man before her brother came to a positive decision, -she felt too that she ought to know the real value of what would be -ceded to Delaveau should a deed of sale indeed be arranged between La -Crêcherie and the Abyss. - -The Jordans were to arrive at six o'clock, after twelve hours' -travelling, and Luc went to wait for them at the railway station, -driving thither in the carriage which was to bring them home. Jordan, -short and puny, had a somewhat vague, long, and gentle face, with hair -and beard of a faded brown. He alighted from the train wrapped in a -long fur overcoat, although that fine September day was a warm one. -With his keen, penetrating black eyes, in which all his vitality seemed -to have taken refuge, he was the first to perceive his friend Luc. - -'Ah, my dear fellow!' said he, 'how kind of you to have waited for us! -You can't have an idea of the catastrophe that took us away, that poor -cousin of ours, dying like that, all alone, yonder, and we having to go -and bury him, when there's nothing we hate so much as travelling.... -Well, it's all over now, and here we are.' - -'And the health's good and you are not over-tired?' asked Luc. - -'No, not too much. I was fortunately able to sleep.' - -But Sœurette was in her turn coming up, after making sure that none -of the travelling-rugs had been left inside the carriage. She was not -pretty: like her brother she had a very slight figure, and was pale, -complexionless, indeed insignificant after the fashion of a woman who -is resigned to being a good housewife and nurse. And yet her tender -smiles lent infinite charm to her face, whose only beauty dwelt in -its passionate eyes, in the depths of which glowed all the craving -for love which lurked within her, but of which she herself was as yet -ignorant. Hitherto she had loved none excepting her brother, and him -she loved after the fashion of some cloistered maid, who for the sake -of her Deity renounces the whole world. Before even speaking to Luc she -called: 'Be careful, Martial--you ought to put on your scarf.' - -Then, turning towards the young man, she showed herself charming, at -once giving proof of the keen sympathy she felt for him: 'How many -apologies we owe you, Monsieur Froment! What can you have thought of us -when you found us gone on your arrival! Have you been comfortable at -all events, have you been properly cared for?' - -'Admirably--I've lived like a prince.' - -'Oh! you are jesting. Before I started I took good care to give all -necessary orders so that you might lack nothing. But all the same I was -absent and unable to watch; and you cannot imagine how vexed I felt at -the idea of abandoning you like that in our poor empty house.' - -They had got into the carriage, and the conversation continued as they -drove away. Luc fully reassured them at last by telling them that he -had spent two very interesting days, of which he would give them full -particulars later on. When they reached La Crêcherie, although the -night was falling, Jordan looked eagerly around him, so delighted at -returning to his wonted life that he gave vent to cries of joy. It -seemed to him as if he were coming back after an absence of several -weeks. How could one find any pleasure in roaming, said he, when -all human happiness lay in the little nook where one thought, where -one worked, freed by habit of the cares of life? Whilst waiting for -Sœurette to have the dinner served, Jordan washed himself in some warm -water, and then insisted on taking Luc into his laboratory, for he -himself was eager to return thither, saying with a light laugh that he -should have no appetite for dinner if he did not first of all breathe -the air of the room in which his life was spent. - -The laboratory was a very large and lofty place, built of brick and -iron, with broad bay-windows facing the greenery of the park. An -immense table laden with apparatus was set in the centre, and all round -the walls were appliances, machine tools, with models, rough drafts -of plans, and electrical furnaces on a reduced scale in the corners. -A system of cables and wires hanging overhead from end to end of the -room brought the electrical motive force from the neighbouring shed and -distributed it among the appliances, tools, and furnaces, in order that -the necessary experiments might be made. And beside all this scientific -severity was a warm and cosy retreat in front of one of the windows, a -retreat with low bookcases and deep armchairs, the couch on which the -brother dozed at appointed hours, and the little table at which the -sister sat while watching over him or assisting him like a faithful -secretary. - -Jordan touched a switch, and the whole room became radiant with a rush -of electric light. - -'So here I am!' said he. 'Really now, I only feel all right when I'm -at home. By the way, that misfortune which compelled me to absent -myself happened just as I was becoming passionately interested in a new -experiment--I shall have to begin it again. But, _mon Dieu_! how well I -feel!' - -He continued laughing; colour had come to his cheeks, and he showed far -more animation than usual. Leaning back on the couch in the attitude he -usually assumed when yielding to thought, he compelled Luc also to sit -down. - -'I say, my good friend,' he continued, 'we have plenty of time--have we -not?--to talk of the matters which made me so desirous to see you that -I ventured to summon you here. Besides, it is necessary that Sœurette -should be present, for she is an excellent counsellor. So if you are -agreeable we will wait till after dinner, we will have our chat at -dessert. And meantime, how happy I feel at having you there in front -of me to tell you how I am getting on with my studies! They don't -progress very fast, but I work at them, and that's the great thing, you -know. It's enough if one works two hours a day.' - -Then, this usually taciturn man went on chatting, recounting his -experiments, which as a rule he confided to nobody, excepting the trees -of his park, as he sometimes jestingly exclaimed. An electrical furnace -being already devised, he had at first simply sought how it might be -practically employed for the smelting of iron ore. In Switzerland, -where the motive power derived from the torrents enabled one to perform -certain work inexpensively, he had inspected furnaces which melted -aluminium under excellent conditions. Why should it not be possible to -treat iron in the same way? To solve the problem it was only necessary -to apply the same principles to a given case. The blast-furnaces in -use gave scarcely more than 1,600 degrees of heat,[1] whereas 2,000 -were obtained with the electrical furnaces, a temperature which would -produce immediate fusion of perfect regularity. And Jordan had without -any difficulty planned such a furnace as he thought advisable, a simple -cube of brickwork, some six feet long on each side, the bottom and -crucible being of magnesia, the most refractory substance known. He had -also calculated and determined the volume of the electrodes, two large -cylinders of carbon, and his first real find consisted in discovering -that he might borrow from them the carbon necessary to disoxygenate -the ore, in such wise that the operation of smelting would be greatly -simplified, for there would be but little slag. If the furnace were -built, however, or at least roughed out, how was one to set it working -and keep it working in a practical, constant manner, in accordance with -industrial requirements? - -'There!' said he, pointing to a model in a corner of the laboratory. -'There is my electrical furnace. Doubtless it needs to be perfected; -it is defective in various respects, there are little difficulties -which are not yet solved. Nevertheless, such as it is, it has given -me some pigs of excellent cast iron, and I estimate that a battery -of ten similar furnaces working for ten hours would do the work of -three establishments like mine kept alight both by day and night. -And what easy work it would be, without any cause for anxiety, work -which children might direct by simply turning on switches. But I must -confess that my pigs cost me as much money as if they were silver -ingots. And so the problem is plain enough: my furnace, so far, is -only a laboratory toy, and will only exist with respect to industrial -enterprise when I am able to feed it with an abundance of electricity -at a sufficiently low cost to render the smelting of iron ore -remunerative.' - -Then he explained that for the last six months he had left his furnace -on one side to devote himself entirely to studying the transport of -electrical force. Might not economy already be realised by burning coal -at the mouth of the pit it came from, and by transmitting electrical -force by cables to the distant factories requiring it? That again was -a problem which many scientists had been endeavouring to solve for -several years, and unfortunately they all found themselves confronted -by a considerable loss of force during transit. - -'Some more experiments have just been made,' said Luc with an -incredulous air. 'I really think that there is no means of preventing -loss.' - -Jordan smiled with that gentle obstinacy, that invincible faith which -he brought into his investigations during the months and months which -he at times expended over them before arriving at the slightest grain -of truth. - -'One must think nothing before one is quite certain,' said he. 'I -have already secured some good results; and some day electrical force -will be stored up, canalised, and directed hither and thither without -any loss at all. If twenty years' searching is necessary, well I'll -give twenty years. It's all very simple: one sets to work anew every -morning, one begins afresh until one finds--whatever should I myself do -if I did not begin again and again?' - -He said this with such naïve grandeur that Luc felt moved as by a deed -of heroism. And he looked at Jordan, so slight, so puny of build, ever -in poor health, coughing, pain-racked under his scarves and shawls, -in that vast laboratory littered with gigantic appliances, traversed -by wires charged with lightning, and filled more and more each day by -colossal labour--the labour of a little insignificant being who went -to and fro, striving, battling to desperation, like an insect lost -amidst the dust of the ground. Where was it that he found not only -intellectual energy but also sufficient physical vigour to undertake -and carry through so many mighty tasks, for the accomplishment of which -the lives of several strong, healthy men seemed to be necessary? He -could hardly trot about, he could scarcely breathe, and yet he raised a -very world with his little hands, weak though they were, like those of -a sickly child. - -However, Sœurette now made her appearance, and gaily exclaimed: 'What! -aren't you coming to dinner? I shall lock up the laboratory, my dear -Martial, if you won't be reasonable.' - -The dining-room, like the _salon_--two rather small apartments as warm -and as cosy as nests, in which one detected the watchful care of a -woman's heart--overlooked a vast stretch of greenery, a panorama of -meadows and ploughed fields spreading to the dim distant horizon of La -Roumagne. But at that hour of night, although the weather was so mild, -the curtains were drawn. Luc now again noticed what minute attentions -the sister lavished on the brother. He, Martial, followed quite an -intricate regimen, having his special dishes, his special bread, and -even his special water, which was slightly warmed in order to 'take -the chill off it.' He ate like a bird, rose and went to bed early, -like the chickens, who are sensible creatures; then during the day -came short walks and rests between the hours that he gave to work. To -those who expressed astonishment at the prodigious amount of work that -he accomplished, and who thought him a terrible labourer, toiling from -morning till night and showing himself no mercy, he replied that he -worked scarcely three hours a day, two in the morning and one in the -afternoon. And even in the morning a spell of recreation came between -the two hours that he gave to work; for he could not fix his attention -upon a subject for more than one hour at a stretch without experiencing -vertigo, without feeling as if his brain were emptying. Never had he -been able to toil for a longer time, and his value rested solely in his -will-power, his tenacity, the passion that he imported into the work -which he undertook, and with which he persevered, on and on, in all -intellectual bravery, even if years went by before he brought it to a -head. - -Luc now at last discovered an answer to that question which he had so -often asked himself; wherever did Jordan, who was so slight and weak, -find the strength requisite for his mighty tasks? He found it solely -in method, in the careful, well-reasoned employment of all his means, -however slight they might be. He even made use of his weakness, using -it as a weapon which prevented him from being disturbed by outsiders. -But above all else, he was ever intent on one and the same thing, the -work he had in hand. To that work he gave every minute at his disposal, -without ever yielding to discouragement or lassitude, but sustained by -the unfailing desperate faith which raises mountains. Is it known what -a mass of work one may pile up when one works only two hours a day on -some useful and decisive task, which is never interrupted by idleness -or fancy? Such work is like the grain of wheat which, accumulating, -fills the sack, or like the ever-falling drop of water which causes -the river to overflow. Stone by stone, the edifice rises, the monument -grows, until it o'ertops the mountains. And it was thus, by a prodigy -of method and personal adaptation, that this sickly little man, wrapped -in rugs and drinking his water warm for fear lest he should catch cold, -accomplished work of the mightiest kind, and this although he gave -to it only the few hours of intellectual health that he succeeded in -wresting from his physical weakness. - -The dinner proved a very friendly and cheerful repast. The household -service was entirely in the hands of women, for Sœurette found men too -noisy and rough for her brother. The coachman and groom simply procured -assistants on certain occasions when some very heavy work had to be -done. And the servant-girls, all carefully selected, pleasant-looking, -gentle and skilful, contributed to the happy quiescence of that cosy -dwelling, where only a few intimates were received. That evening, for -the return of the master and mistress, the dinner consisted of some -clear soup, a barbel from the Mionne with melted butter, a roast fowl -and some salad--all very simple dishes. - -'So you have really not felt over-bored since Saturday?' Sœurette -inquired of Luc when they were all three seated at the table. - -'No, I assure you,' the young man answered, 'And besides, you have no -notion how fully my time has been occupied.' - -Then he first of all recounted his Saturday evening, the covert state -of rebellion in which he had found Beauclair, the theft of a loaf by -Nanet, the arrest of Lange, and his visit to Bonnaire, the victim of -the strike. But by a strange scruple, at which he afterwards felt -astonished, he virtually skipped his meeting with Josine, and did not -mention her by name. - -'Poor folks!' exclaimed Sœurette compassionately. 'That frightful -strike reduced them to bread and water, and even those who had bread -were lucky. What can one do? How can one help them? Alms give but the -slightest relief, and you don't know how distressed I have been during -the last two months, at feeling that we, the rich and happy, are so -utterly powerless.' - -She was a humanitarian, a pupil of her grandfather Dr. Michon, the old -Fourierist and Saint-Simonian, who when she was quite little had taken -her on his knees to tell her some fine stories of his own invention, -stories of phalansteries established on blissful islands, of cities -where men had found the fulfilment of all their dreams of happiness -amidst eternal springtide. - -'What can be done? What can be done?' she repeated dolorously, with her -beautiful, soft, compassionate eyes fixed upon Luc. 'Something ought to -be done, surely.' - -Then Luc, emotion gaining on him, raised a heartfelt cry. 'Ah! yes, -it's high time, one must act.' - -But Jordan wagged his head; he, immersed in the cloistered life of -a scientist, never occupied himself with politics. He held them in -contempt, and unjustly--for after all it is necessary that men should -watch over the manner in which they are governed. He, however, living -amidst the absolute, regarded passing events, the accidents of the day, -as mere jolts on the road, and consequently of no account. According to -him it was science alone which led mankind to truth, justice, and final -happiness, that perfect city of the future towards which the nations -plod on so slowly, and with so much anguish. Of what use, therefore, -was it to worry about all the rest? Was it not sufficient that science -should advance? For it advanced in spite of everything--each of its -conquests was definitive. And whatever might be the catastrophes of the -journey, at the end there rose the victory of life, the accomplishment -of the destiny of mankind. Thus, though he was very gentle and -tender-hearted like his sister, he closed his ears to the contemporary -battle, and shut himself up in his laboratory, where, as he expressed -it, he manufactured happiness for to-morrow. - -'Act?' he declared in his turn. 'Thought is an act, and the most -fruitful of all acts in influence upon the world. Do we even know what -seeds are germinating now? The sufferings of all those poor wretches -are very distressing, but I do not allow myself to be disturbed by -them, for the harvest will come in its due season.' - -Luc, feverish and disturbed as he himself felt, did not insist on -the point, but went on to relate how he had spent his Sunday, his -invitation to La Guerdache, the lunch there, the people he had met at -table, and what had been done and what had been said. But whilst he -spoke he could see that the brother and sister were becoming cold, as -if they took no interest in all those folks. - -'We seldom see the Boisgelins now that they are living at Beauclair,' -Jordan exclaimed, with his quiet frankness. 'They showed themselves -very amiable in Paris, but here we lead such a retired life that all -intercourse has gradually ceased. Besides, it must be acknowledged -that our ideas and our habits are very different from theirs. As for -Delaveau, he is an intelligent and active fellow, absorbed in his -business as I am in mine. And I must add that the fine society of -Beauclair terrifies me to such a point that I keep my door closed to -it, delighted at its indignation and at remaining alone like some -dangerous madman.' - -Sœurette began to laugh. 'Martial exaggerates a little,' said she. 'I -receive Abbé Marle, who is a worthy man, as well as Doctor Novarre -and Hermeline the schoolmaster, whose conversation interests me. And -if it is true that we remain simply on a footing of courtesy with -La Guerdache, I none the less retain sincere friendship for Madame -Boisgelin, who is so good, so charming.' - -Jordan, who liked to tease his sister at times, thereupon exclaimed: -'Why don't you say at once that it is I who compel you to flee the -world, and that if I were not here you would throw the doors wide open!' - -'Why, of course!' she answered gaily, 'the house is such as you desire -it to be. But if you wish it I am quite willing to give a great ball, -and invite Sub-Prefect Châtelard, Mayor Gourier, Judge Gaume, Captain -Jollivet, and the Mazelles and the Boisgelins and the Delaveaus. You -shall open the ball with Madame Mazelle!' - -They went on jesting, for they felt very happy that evening, both on -account of their return to their nest and of Luc's presence beside -them. At last, when the dessert was served, they proceeded to deal with -the great question. The two silent servant-girls had gone off in their -light felt slippers, which rendered their footsteps inaudible; and the -quiet dining-room seemed full of the charm of affectionate intimacy, -when hearts and minds can be opened in all freedom. - -'So this, my friend,' said Jordan, 'is what I ask of your friendship. I -wish you to study the question, and tell me what you yourself would do -if you were in my place.' - -He recapitulated the whole business, and explained how he himself -regarded it. He would long since have rid himself of the blast-furnace -if it had not, so to say, continued working of its own accord in the -jog-trot manner regulated by routine. The profits remained sufficient, -but holding himself to be rich enough he did not take them into -account. And on the other hand, had he been minded to increase them, -double or treble them as ambition might dictate, it would have been -necessary to renew a part of the plant, improve the systems employed, -and in a word devote oneself to them entirely. That was a thing -which he could not and would not do, the more particularly as those -ancient blast-furnaces, whose methods to him seemed so childish and -barbarous, possessed no interest for him, and could be of no help in -the experiments of electrical smelting in which he was now passionately -absorbed. So he let the furnace go, occupied himself with it as little -as possible, whilst awaiting an opportunity to get rid of it altogether. - -'You understand, my friend, don't you?' he said to Luc. 'And now, you -see, all at once old Laroche dies, and the whole management and all its -worries fall on my shoulders again. You can't imagine what a lot of -things ought to be done--a man's lifetime would scarcely suffice if one -wished to deal with the matter seriously. For my part nothing in the -world would induce me to relinquish my studies, my investigations. The -best course, therefore, is to sell, and I am virtually ready to do so; -still, first of all, I should much like to have your opinion.' - -Luc understood Jordan's views, and thought them reasonable. - -'No doubt,' he answered, 'you cannot change your work and habits, your -whole life. You yourself and the world would both lose too much by it. -But at the same time I think you might give the matter a little more -thought, for perhaps there are other solutions possible. Besides, in -order to sell you must find a purchaser.' - -'Oh! I have a purchaser,' Jordan resumed. 'Delaveau has long desired -to annex the blast-furnace of La Crêcherie to the steel-works of the -Abyss. He has sounded me already, and I have only to make a sign.' - -Luc had started on hearing Delaveau's name, for he now at last -understood why the latter had shown himself so anxious and so pressing -in his inquiries. And as his host, who had noticed his gesture, -inquired if he had anything to say against the manager of the Abyss, he -responded, 'No, no, I think as you yourself do, that he is an active -and intelligent man.' - -'That is the very point,' continued Jordan; 'the business would be in -the hands of an expert. It would be necessary, I think, to come to -certain arrangements, such as agreeing to payments at long intervals, -for Boisgelin has no capital at liberty. But that doesn't matter. I can -wait, a guarantee on the Abyss would suffice me.' Then looking Luc full -in the face, he concluded: 'Come, do you advise me to finish with the -matter, and treat with Delaveau?' - -The young man did not immediately reply. A feeling of uneasiness -and repugnance was rising within him. What could it be? Why should -he experience such indignation, such anger with himself, as if, -by advising his friend to hand the blast-furnace over to that man -Delaveau, he would be committing some bad action which would for ever -leave him full of remorse? He could find no good reason for advising -any other course. Thus he at last replied: 'All that you have said to -me is certainly very reasonable, and I cannot do otherwise than approve -of your views. And yet you might do well in giving the matter a little -more thought.' - -Sœurette had hitherto listened very attentively, without intervening. -She seemed to share Luc's covert uneasiness, and now and again glanced -at him anxiously, whilst waiting for his decision. - -'The smeltery is not alone in question,' she at last exclaimed; 'there -is also the mine, all that rocky land which cannot be separated from -the furnace, so it seems to me.' - -But her brother, eager to get rid of the whole affair, made an -impatient gesture, saying: 'Delaveau shall take the land as well, if he -desires it. What can we do with it? A mass of peeling calcined rock, -amongst which the very nettles refuse to grow! It has no value whatever -nowadays, since the mine can no longer be worked.' - -'Is it quite certain that it can no longer be worked?' insisted -Sœurette. 'I remember, Monsieur Froment, that you told us one evening -in Paris that the ironmasters in Eastern France had managed to make -use of most defective ore by subjecting it to some chemical treatment. -Why has that process never been tried here?' - -Jordan raised his arms towards the ceiling in a fit of despair. -'Why? why, my dear?' he cried. 'Because Laroche was deficient in all -initiative; because I myself have never had time to attend to the -matter; because things worked in a certain way and could not be got to -work otherwise. If I'm selling the property it's precisely because I -don't want to hear it mentioned again, for it is radically impossible -for me to direct the business, and the mere thought of it makes me ill.' - -He had risen, and his sister seeing him so agitated, remained silent -for fear lest in provoking a dispute she might throw him into a fever. - -'There are moments,' he continued, 'when I think of sending for -Delaveau so that he may take everything whether he pays or not. I am -not hard up for money. It's like those electrical furnaces which so -greatly impassion me; I have never once thought of employing them -myself and of coining money with them, for as soon as I solve all the -difficulties in my way, I shall give my invention to everybody, so as -to help on universal prosperity and happiness.... Well then, it is -understood. As our friend considers my plan to be a reasonable one, we -will study the conditions of sale together to-morrow, and then I'll -finish everything.' - -Luc made no response; a feeling of repugnance still possessed him, and -he did not wish to pledge himself too far. But Jordan became yet more -excited, and ended by suggesting that they should go up to see the -furnace, the more especially as he wished to ascertain how things had -gone there during his three days' absence. - -'I am not without anxiety,' said he. 'Although Laroche has been dead a -week I have not replaced him--I have let my master-smelter, Morfain, -direct the work. He is a capital fellow! He was born up yonder, and -grew up amidst the fires! Nevertheless the responsibility is heavy for -a mere workman such as he is.' - -Sœurette, alarmed by her brother's suggestion, intervened entreatingly. -'Oh, Martial!' she cried, 'you have only just come back from a long -journey, and yet, tired as you must be, you want to go out again at ten -o'clock at night.' - -Jordan thereupon became very gentle again, and kissed her. 'Don't -worry, little one,' said he; 'you know that I never attempt more than -I feel I can do. I assure you that I shall sleep the better after -making certain that things are all right. It is not a cold night, and, -besides, I will put on my fur coat.' - -Sœurette herself fastened a thick scarf about his neck, and accompanied -him and Luc down the steps in order to make sure that the night was -really mild. It was indeed a delightful one, the trees, the rivulets, -and the fields all slumbered beneath the heavens, which spread out like -a canopy of dark velvet spangled with stars. - -'I am confiding him to your care, Monsieur Froment,' said Sœurette, -referring to her brother. 'Do not let him remain out late.' - -The two men at once began to climb a narrow stairway which was cut -out in the rocks behind the house, and ascended to the stony landing -whereon the furnace stood, half-way up the huge ridge of the Bleuse -Mountains. It was a labyrinthine stairway of infinite charm, winding -between pines and climbing plants. At each bend, on raising one's head, -one perceived the black pile of the smeltery standing forth more and -more plainly against the blue night-sky, the strange silhouettes of -various mechanical adjuncts showing forth fantastically around the -central pile. - -Jordan went up the first with light short steps, and as he was at last -reaching the landing he paused before a pile of rocks among which a -little light gleamed like a star. - -'Wait a minute,' he said, 'I want to make sure whether Morfain is at -home or not.' - -'Where, at home?' asked Luc in astonishment. - -'Why here, in these old grottoes, which he has turned into a kind of -dwelling-place, to which he clings most obstinately with his son and -daughter, in spite of all the offers that I have made of providing him -with a little house.' - -All along the gorge of Brias quite a number of poor people dwelt in -similar cavities. Morfain for his part remained there from taste, -for there forty years previously he had first seen the light; and, -moreover, he was thus close beside his work, that furnace which was at -once his life, his prison, and his empire. Moreover, if he had chosen a -prehistoric dwelling, he had behaved like a civilised man of the caves, -closing both sides of his grotto with a substantial wall and providing -a stout door and some windows fitted with little panes of glass. -Inside, there were three rooms, the bedroom shared by the father and -the son, the daughter's bedroom, and the common room, which served at -once as kitchen, dining-room, and workshop. And all three chambers were -very clean, with their walls and their vaulted roof of stone, and their -substantial, if roughly hewn, furniture. - -As Jordan had said, the Morfains from father to son had been -master-smelters at La Crêcherie. The grandfather had helped to found -the establishment, and after an uninterrupted family reign of more -than eighty years the grandson now kept watch over the tappings. Like -some indisputable title of nobility the hereditary character of his -calling filled Morfain with pride. His wife had now been dead four -years, leaving him a son then sixteen, and a daughter then fourteen -years of age. The lad had immediately begun to work at the furnace, and -the girl had taken care of the two men, cooking their meals, sweeping -and cleaning the dwelling-place like a good housewife. In this wise -had the days gone by; the girl was now eighteen and the lad twenty, -and the father quietly watched his race continuing pending the time -when he might hand over the furnace to his son, even as his father had -transmitted it to him. - -'Ah! so you are here, Morfain,' said Jordan, when he had pushed open -the door, which was merely closed by a latch. 'I have just returned -home, and I wanted to know how things were getting on.' - -Within the rocky cavity, lighted by a small and smoky lamp, the -father and son sat at table eating some soup--a mess of broth and -vegetables--before starting on their night's work, whilst the daughter -stood in the rear, serving them. And their huge shadows seemed to fill -the place, which was very solemn and silent. At last in a gruff voice -Morfain slowly answered, 'We've had a bad business, Monsieur Jordan, -but I hope that things will be quiet now.' - -He rose to his feet, as did his son, and stood there between the lad -and the girl, all three of them strongly built and of such lofty -stature that their heads almost touched the rough smoky stone vault, -which served as a ceiling to the room. One might have taken them for -three apparitions of the vanished ages, some family of mighty toilers -whose long efforts throughout the centuries had subjugated nature. - -Luc gazed with amazement at Morfain, a veritable colossus, one of the -Vulcans of old by whom fire was first conquered. He had an enormous -head, with a broad face, ravined and scorched by the flames. His brow -was a bossy one, his eyes glowed like live coals, his nose showed like -an eagle's beak between his cheeks, which looked as if they had been -ravaged by some flow of lava. And his swollen, twisted mouth was of a -tawny redness like that of a burn; while his hands had the colour and -the strength of pincers of old steel. - -Then Luc glanced at the son, Petit-Da,[2] as he was called, this -nickname having been given him because in childhood he had been -accustomed to pronounce certain words badly, and, further, had one -day narrowly missed losing his little fingers in some 'pig' which was -scarcely cold. He again was a colossus, almost as huge as his father, -whose square face, imperious nose, and flaming eyes he had inherited. -But he had been less hardened, less marked by fire; and, besides, he -could read, and his features were softened and brightened by dawning -powers of thought. - -Finally Luc gazed at the daughter, Ma-Bleue, as her father had ever -lovingly called her, so blue indeed were her great eyes, the eyes of -a fair-haired goddess, lightly and infinitely blue, and so large that -in all her face one was conscious of nothing else save that celestial -blueness. She was a goddess of lofty stature, of simple yet magnificent -comeliness, the most beautiful, the most taciturn, the wildest creature -of the region, yet one who in her wildness dreamt, read books, and saw -from afar off the approach of things that her father had never seen, -and the unconfessed expectation of which made her quiver. Luc marvelled -at the sight of those three creatures of heroic build, that family in -which he detected all the long overpowering labour of mankind on its -onward march, all the pride begotten of painful effort incessantly -renewed, all the ancient nobility that springs from deadly toil. - -But Jordan had become anxious. 'A bad business, Morfain!' said he, 'how -was that?' - -'Yes, Monsieur Jordan, one of the twyers got stopped up. For two days -I fancied that we were going to have a misfortune, and I didn't sleep -for thought of it. It grieved me so much that a thing like that should -happen to me just when you were away. It's best to go and see if you've -the time. We shall be "running" by-and-by.' - -The two men finished their soup standing, hastily swallowing large -spoonfuls of it whilst the girl already began to wipe the table. -They rarely spoke together, a gesture or a glance sufficed for them -to understand each other. Nevertheless the father, affectionately -softening his gruff voice, said to Ma-Bleue: 'You can put out the -light, you need not wait for us, we shall have a rest up above.' - -Then whilst Morfain and Petit-Da went off in front, accompanying -Jordan, Luc, who was in the rear, glanced round, and on the threshold -of that barbarian home he perceived Ma-Bleue, standing erect, tall and -superb, like some _amorosa_ of the ancient days, whilst her large azure -eyes wandered dreamily far away into the clear night. - -The black pile of the furnace soon arose before the young man's view. -It was of a very ancient pattern, heavy and squat, not more than fifty -feet in height. But by degrees various improvements had been added, new -organs, as it were, which had ended by forming a little village around -it. The running hall, floored with fine sand, looked light and elegant -with its iron framework roofed with tiles. Then on the left, inside -a large glazed shed, was the blast apparatus with its steam engine; -whilst on the right rose the two groups of lofty cylinders, those in -which the combustible gases became purified, and those in which they -served to warm the blast from the engine, in order that it might reach -the furnace burning hot, and in this wise hasten combustion. And there -were also a number of water-tanks and a whole system of piping, which -kept moisture ever trickling down the sides of the brick walls in order -to cool them and diminish the wear and tear of the awful fire raging -within. Thus the monster virtually disappeared beneath the intricate -medley of its adjuncts, a conglomeration of buildings, a bristling -of iron tanks, an entanglement of big metal pipes, the whole forming -an extraordinary jumble which, at night-time especially, displayed -the most barbarous, fantastic silhouettes. Above, beside the rock one -perceived the bridge which brought the trucks laden with ore and fuel -to the level of the mouth of the furnace. Below, the kieve reared its -black cone, and then from the belly downward a powerful metal armature -sustained the brickwork which supported the water conduits and the -four twyers. Finally, at the bottom there was but the crucible, with -its taphole closed with a bung of refractory clay. But what a gigantic -beast the whole made, a beast of disquieting, bewildering shape, which -devoured stones and gave out metal in fusion. - -Moreover, was there scarcely a sound, scarcely a light. That mighty -digestion apparently preferred silence and gloom. One could only hear -the faint trickling of the water running down the sides of the bricks, -and the ceaseless distant rumbling of the blast apparatus in the -engine-shed. And the only lights were those of three or four lanterns -gleaming amidst the darkness, which the shadows of the huge buildings -rendered the more dense. Moreover, only a few pale figures were seen -flitting about, the eight smelters of the night-shift, who wandered -hither and thither whilst waiting for the next 'run.' On the platform -of the mouth of the furnace up above one could not even discern the men -who, silently obeying the signals sent them from below, poured into the -furnace the requisite charges of ore and fuel. And there was not a cry, -not a flash of light; it was all dim, mute labour, something mighty and -savage accomplished in the gloom. - -Jordan, however, moved by the bad news given him, had reverted to -his dream; and pointing to the pile of buildings, he said to Luc, -who had now joined him: 'You see it, my friend; now am I not right -in wishing to do away with all that, in wishing to replace such a -cumbersome monster, which entails such painful toil, by my battery of -electrical furnaces, which would be so clean, so simple, so easily -managed? Since the day when the first men dug a hole in the ground to -melt ore by mingling it with branches which they set alight, there -has really been little change in the methods employed. They are still -childish and primitive. Our blast-furnaces are mere adaptations of the -prehistoric pits, changed into hollow columns and enlarged according to -requirements. And one continues throwing in the ore and the combustible -pell mell, and burning them together. One might take such a furnace -to be some infernal animal, down whose throat one is for ever pouring -food compounded of coal and oxide of iron, which the beast digests -amidst a hurricane of fire, and which it gives out down below in the -form of fused metal, whilst the gases, the dust, the slag of every -kind goes off elsewhere. And observe that the whole operation rests -in the slow descent of the digested substances, in total absolute -digestion, for the object of all the improvements hitherto effected -has been to facilitate it. Formerly there was no blast, no blowing -apparatus, and fusion was therefore slower and more defective. Then -cold air was employed, and next it was perceived that a better result -was obtained by heating the air. At last came the idea of heating -that air by borrowing from the furnace itself the gases which had -formerly burnt at its mouth in a plume of flames. And in this wise -many external organs have been added to our blast-furnaces, but in -spite of every improvement, in spite of their huge proportions, they -have remained childish, and have even grown more and more delicate, -liable to frequent accidents. Ah! you can't imagine the illnesses -which fall upon such a monster. There is no puny, sickly little child -in the whole world whose daily digestion gives as much anxiety to his -parents as a monster like this gives to those in charge of it. Day and -night incessantly two shifts, each of six loaders up above and eight -smelters down below, with foremen, an engineer, and so forth, are on -the spot, busy with the food supplied to the beast, and the output it -yields; and at the slightest disturbance, if the metal run out should -not be satisfactory, everybody is in a state of alarm. For five years -now this furnace has been alight; never for a single minute has the -internal fire ceased to perform its work; and it may burn another five -years in the same way before it is extinguished to allow of repairs -being made. And if those in charge tremble and watch so carefully over -the work, it is because there is the everlasting possibility that the -fire may go out of itself, through some accident of unforeseen gravity -in the monster's bowels. And to go out, to become extinguished, means -death. Ah! those little electrical furnaces of mine, which lads might -work, they won't disturb anybody's rest at nights, and they will be so -healthy, and so active and so docile!' - -Luc could not help laughing, amused by the loving passion which entered -into Jordan's scientific researches. However, they had now been joined -by Morfain and Petit-Da, and the former, under the pale gleam of a -lantern, pointed to one of the four pipes which, at a height of nine or -ten feet, penetrated the monster's flanks. - -'There! it was that twyer which got stopped up, Monsieur Jordan,' he -said, 'and unfortunately I had gone home to bed, so that I only noticed -what was the matter the next day. As the blast did not penetrate a -chill occurred, and a quantity of matter got together and hardened. -Nothing more went down, but I only became aware of the trouble at the -moment of tapping, on seeing the slag come out in a thick pulp which -was already black. And you can understand my fright; for I remembered -our misfortune ten years ago, when one had to demolish a part of the -furnace after a similar occurrence.' - -Never before had Morfain spoken so many words at a stretch. His voice -trembled as he recalled the former accident, for no more terrible -illness can fall on the monster than one of those chills which solidify -the ore and convert it into so much rock. The result is deadly when one -is unable to relight the brasier. By degrees the whole mass becomes -chilled and adheres to the furnace; and then there is nothing else to -be done but to demolish the pile, raze it to the ground, like some old -tower chokeful of stones. - -'And what did you do?' Jordan inquired. - -Morfain did not immediately answer. He had ended by loving that monster -whose flow of glowing lava had scorched his face for more than thirty -years. It was like a giant, a master, a god of fire which he adored, -bending beneath the rude tyranny of the worship that had been forced -upon him the moment he reached man's estate as his sole means of -procuring daily bread. He scarcely knew how to read, he had not been -touched by the new spirit which was abroad, he experienced no feelings -of rebellion, but cheerfully accepted his life of hard servitude, vain -of his strong arms, his hourly battles with the flames, his fidelity to -that crouching colossus over whose digestion he watched without ever -a thought of going out on strike. And his barbarous and terrible god -had become his passion; his faith in that divinity was instinct with -secret tenderness, and he still quivered with anxiety at the thought -of the dangerous attack from which he had saved his idol, thanks to -extraordinary efforts of devotion. - -'What I did!' he at last responded. 'Well, I began by trebling the -charges of coal, and then I tried to clear the twyer by working the -blast apparatus as I had sometimes seen Monsieur Laroche do. But the -attack was already too serious, and we had to disjoint the twyer and -attack the stoppage with bars. Ah! it wasn't an easy job, and we lost -some of our strength in doing it. All the same, we at last got the air -to pass, and I was better pleased when, among the slag this morning, I -found some remnants of ore, for I realised that the matter which had -set had got broken up again and carried away. Everything is once more -well alight now, and we shall be doing good work again. Besides it -will soon be easy to see how things are; the next run will tell us.' - -Although he was well-nigh exhausted by such a long discourse, he added -in a lower voice: 'I really believe, Monsieur Jordan, that I should -have gone up above and flung myself into the mouth if I had not had -better news to give you this evening. I'm only a workman, a smelter, in -whom you've had confidence, giving me a gentleman's post, an engineer's -post. And just fancy me letting the furnace go out and telling you on -your return home that it was dead! Ah! no, indeed, I'd have died too! -I haven't been to bed for two nights now; I've kept watch here, like I -did beside my poor wife when I lost her. And at present, I may admit -it, the soup which you found me eating was the first food I had tasted -for forty-eight hours, for I couldn't eat before, my own stomach seemed -to be stopped up like the furnace's. I don't want to apologise, but -simply to let you know how happy I feel at not having failed in the -confidence you put in me.' - -That big fellow, hardened by perpetual fire, whose limbs were like -steel, almost wept as he spoke those words, and Jordan pressed his -hands affectionately, saying: 'I know how valiant you are, my good -Morfain; I know that if a disaster had happened you would have fought -on to the very end.' - -Meantime Petit-Da had stood listening in the gloom, intervening neither -by word nor gesture. He only moved when his father gave him an order -respecting the tapping. Every four-and-twenty hours the metal was run -out five times, at intervals of nearly five hours. The charge, which -might be eighty tons a day, was at that moment reduced to about fifty, -which would give runs of ten tons each. By the faint light of the -lanterns the needful arrangements were made in silence; channels and -panels for casting were prepared in the fine sand of the large hall; -and then before running out the metal the only thing remaining to be -done was to get rid of the slag. Thus the shadowy forms of workmen were -seen passing slowly, busily engaged in operations which could be only -dimly distinguished, whilst amidst the heavy silence which prevailed -within the squatting idol, one still heard nothing save the trickling -of the drops of water which were coursing down its sides. - -'Monsieur Jordan,' Morfain inquired, 'would you like to see the slag -run out?' - -Jordan and Luc followed him, and a few steps brought them to a hillock -formed of an accumulation of waste. The aperture was on the right-hand -side of the furnace, and the slag was already pouring out in a flood of -sparkling dross, as if the cauldron of fusing metal were being skimmed. -The matter was like thick pulp, sun-hued lava, flowing slowly along and -falling into waggonets of sheet iron, where it at once became dim. - -'The colour's good, you see, Monsieur Jordan,' resumed Morfain gaily. -'Oh! we are out of trouble, that's sure. You'll see, you'll see.' - -Then he brought them back to the running-hall in front of the furnace, -whose vague dimness was so faintly illumined by the lanterns. Petit-Da, -with one lunge of his strong young arms, had just thrust a bar into the -bung of refractory clay which closed the tap-hole, and now the eight -men of the night shift wore rhythmically ramming the bar in further. -Their black figures could scarcely be discerned, and one only heard -the dull blows of the rammer. Then, all at once, a dazzling star, as -it were, appeared, a small peep-hole through which showed the inner -fire. But as yet there was only a faint trickling of the liquid metal, -and Petit-Da had to take another bar, thrust it in, and turn it round -and round with herculean efforts in order to enlarge the aperture. -Then came the _débácle_, the flood rushed out tumultuously, a river -of fusing metal rolled along the channel in the sand, and then spread -out, filling the moulds, and forming blazing pools, whose glow and heat -quite scorched the eyes of the beholders. And from that channel and -those sheets of fire rose a crop of sparks, blue sparks, of delicate -ethereality, and fusees of gold, delightfully refined, a florescence -of cornflowers, as it were, amidst a growth of wheat-ears. Whenever -any obstacle of damp sand was encountered both the sparks and the -fusees increased in number, and rose to a great height in a bouquet -of splendour. And all at once, as if some miraculous sun had risen, -an intense dawn burst over everything, casting a great glare upon the -furnace, and throwing a glow as of sunshine upward to the roof of -the hall, whose every girder and joist showed forth distinctly. The -neighbouring buildings, the monster's various organs, sprang out of -the darkness, together with the men of the night-shift, hitherto so -phantom-like and now so real, outlined with an energy and splendour -never to be forgotten, as if, obscure heroes of toil that they were, -they suddenly found themselves enveloped by a nimbus of glory. And the -great glow spread to all the surroundings, conjured the huge ridge of -the Bleuse Mountains out of the darkness, threw reflections even upon -the sleeping roofs of Beauclair, and died away at last in the distance -far over the great plain of La Roumagne. - -'It is superb,' said Jordan, studying the quality of the metal by the -colour and limpidity of the flow. - -Morfain took his triumph modestly. 'Yes, yes, Monsieur Jordan,' said -he, 'it's good work, such as we ought to turn out. All the same, I'm -glad you came to have a look. You won't feel anxious now.' - -Luc also was taking an interest in the proceedings. So great was the -heat that he felt his skin tingling through his clothes. Little by -little all the moulds had been filled, and the sandy hall was now -changed into an incandescent sea. And when the ten tons of liquid -metal had all poured forth, a final tempest, a huge rush of flames -and sparks, came from the cavity. The blowing-apparatus was emptying -the crucible, the blast sweeping through it in all freedom like some -hurricane of hell. But the pigs were now growing cold, their blinding -white light became pink, next red, and then brown. The sparks, too, -ceased to rise, the field of azure cornflowers and golden wheat-ears -was reaped. Then gloom swiftly fell once more, blotting out the hall -and the furnace and all the adjoining buildings, whilst it seemed as -if the lanterns had been lighted up afresh. And of the workmen one -could again only distinguish some vague figures actively bestirring -themselves--they were those of Petit-Da and two of his mates, who were -again plugging the tap-hole with refractory clay, amidst the silence -which was now deeper than ever, for the blast machinery had been -stopped to permit of this work being performed. - -'I say, Morfain, my good fellow,' Jordan suddenly resumed, 'you will go -home to bed, won't you?' - -'Oh! no, I must spend the night here,' the man answered. - -'What! you mean to stay, and pass a third sleepless night here?' - -'Oh! there's a camp bedstead in the watch-house, Monsieur Jordan, and -one sleeps very well on it. We'll relieve each other, my son and I; -we'll each do two hours' sentry duty in turn.' - -'But that's useless, since things are now all right again,' Jordan -retorted. 'Come, be reasonable, Morfain, and go and sleep at home.' - -'No, no, Monsieur Jordan, let me do as I wish. There's no more danger, -but I want to make sure how things go until to-morrow. It will please -me to do so.' - -Thus Jordan and Luc, after shaking hands with him, had to leave him -there. And Luc felt extremely moved, for Morfain had left on him an -impression of great loftiness in which met long years of painful and -docile labour, all the nobility of the crushing toil which mankind had -undertaken in the hope of attaining to rest and happiness. It had all -begun with the ancient Vulcans, who had subjugated fire in those heroic -times which Jordan had recalled, when the first smelters had reduced -their ore in a pit dug in the earth, in which they lighted wood. It -was on that day, the day when man first conquered iron and fashioned -it, that he became the master of the world, and that the era of -civilisation first began. Morfain, dwelling in his rocky cave, and for -whom nothing existed apart from the difficulties and the glory of his -calling, seemed to Luc like some direct descendant of those primitive -toilers, whose far-off characteristics still lived by force of heredity -in him, silent and resigned as he was, giving all the strength of his -muscles without ever a murmur, even as his predecessors had done at the -dawn of human society. Ah! how much perspiration had streamed forth and -how many arms had toiled to the point of exhaustion during thousands -and thousands of years! And yet nothing changed--fire, if conquered, -still made its victims, still had its slaves, those who fed it, those -who scorched their blood in subjugating it, whilst the privileged ones -of the earth lived in idleness, in homes which were fresh and cool! -Morfain, like some legendary hero, did not seem even to suspect the -existence of all the monstrous iniquity around him; he was ignorant of -rebellion, of the storm growling afar; he remained quite impassive at -his deadly post, there where his sires had died and where he himself -would die. And Luc also conjured up another figure, that of Bonnaire, -another hero of labour, one who struggled against the oppressors, the -exploiters, in order that justice might at last reign; and who devoted -himself to his comrades' cause even to the point of giving up his daily -bread. Had not all those suffering men groaned long enough beneath -their burdens, and, however admirable might be their toil, had not the -hour struck for the deliverance of the slaves in order that they might -at last become free citizens in a fraternal community, amidst which -peace would spring from a just apportionment of labour and wealth? - -However, as Jordan, whilst descending the steps cut in the rock, -stopped before a night-watchman's hut to give an order, an unexpected -sight met Luc's eyes and brought his emotion to a climax. Behind some -bushes, amidst some scattered rocks, he distinctly saw two shadowy -forms passing. Their arms encircled each other's waist and their lips -were meeting in a kiss. Luc readily recognised the girl, so tall she -was, so fair and so superb. She was none other than Ma-Bleue, the -maid whose great blue eyes seemed to fill her face. And the lad must -assuredly be Achille Gourier, the mayor's son, that proud and handsome -youth whose demeanour he, Luc, had noticed at La Guerdache--that -demeanour so expressive of contempt for the rotting _bourgeoisie_ of -which he was one of the revolting sons. Ever shooting, fishing, and -roaming, he spent his holidays among the steep paths of the Bleuse -Mountains, beside the torrents or deep in the pine woods. And doubtless -he had fallen in love with that beautiful, shy, wild girl, around -whom so many admirers prowled in vain. She, on her side, must have -been conquered by the advent of that Prince Charming, who brought her -something that was beyond her sphere, who set all the delightful dreams -of to-morrow amidst the sternness of that desert. To-morrow! to-morrow! -Was it not that which dawned in Ma-Bleue's blue eyes, when, with her -gaze wandering far away, she stood so thoughtful on the threshold of -her mountain cave? Her father and her brother were watching over their -work up yonder, and she had escaped down the precipitous paths. And for -her to-morrow meant that tall, loving lad, that _bourgeois_ stripling, -who spoke to her so prettily as if she had been a lady, and vowed that -he would love her for ever. - -At first, amidst his amazement, Luc felt a heart-pang at the thought of -how grieved the father would be should he hear of that sweethearting. -Then a tender feeling took possession of the young man's heart, a -caressing breath of hope came to him at the sight of that free and -gentle love. Were not those children, who belonged to such different -classes, preparing amidst their play, their kisses, the advent of the -happier morrow, the great reconciliation which would at last lead to -the reign of justice? - -Down below, when Luc and Jordan reached the park, they exchanged a few -more words. - -'You haven't caught cold, I hope?' said the young man to his friend. -'Your sister would never forgive me, you know.' - -'No, no, I feel quite well. And I am going to bed in the best of -spirits, for I've quite made up my mind. I intend to rid myself of that -enterprise, since it does not interest me, and proves such a constant -source of worry.' - -For a moment Luc remained silent, for uneasiness had returned to him, -as if, indeed, he were frightened by Jordan's decision. However, as he -left his friend he said, shaking his hand for the last time, 'No, wait, -give me to-morrow to think the matter over. We will have another talk -in the evening, and afterwards you shall come to a decision.' - -Then they parted for the night. Luc did not go to bed immediately. He -occupied--in the pavilion formerly erected for Dr. Michon, Jordan's -maternal grandfather--the spacious room where the doctor had spent -his last years among his books; and during the three days that he had -occupied this chamber the young man had grown fond of the pleasantness, -peacefulness, and odour of work that filled it. That evening, however, -the fever of doubt, by which he was possessed, oppressed him, and -throwing one of the windows wide open he leant out, hoping in this wise -to calm himself a little before he went to bed. The window overlooked -the road leading from La Crêcherie to Beauclair. In front spread some -uncultivated fields strewn with rocks, and beyond them one could -distinguish the jumbled roofs of the sleeping town. - -For a few minutes Luc remained inhaling the gusts of air which arose -from the great plain of La Roumagne. The night was warm and moist, and -athwart a slight haze a bluish light descended from the starry sky. -Luc listened to the distant sounds with which the night quivered; and -before long he recognised the dull, rhythmical blows of the hammers -of the Abyss, that Cyclopean forge whence day and night alike there -came a clang of steel. Then he raised his eyes and sought the black, -silent smeltery of La Crêcherie, but it was now mingled with the inky -bar which the promontory of the Bleuse Mountains set against the sky. -Lowering his eyes he at last directed them upon the close-set roofs -of the town, whose heavy slumber seemed to be cradled by the rhythmic -blows of the hammers--those blows which suggested the quick and -difficult breathing of some giant worker, some pain-racked Prometheus, -chained to eternal toil. And Luc's feeling of uneasiness was increased -by it all; he could not quiet his fever; the people and the things -that he had beheld during those last three days crowded upon his mind, -passed before him in a tragic scramble, the sense of which he strove -to divine. And the problem which possessed his spirit now tortured him -more than ever. Assuredly he would be unable to sleep until he found a -means of solving it. - -But down below his window, across the road, amongst the bushes and the -rocks, he suddenly heard a fresh sound, something so light, so faint, -that he could not tell what it might be. Was it the beating of a bird's -wings, the rustle of an insect among some leaves? Luc gazed down, and -could see nothing save the swelling darkness that spread far, far away. -No doubt he had been mistaken. But the sounds reached his ears again, -and even seemed to come nearer. Interested by them, seized with a -strange emotion which astonished him, he again strove to penetrate the -darkness, and at last he distinguished a vague, light, delicate form -which seemed to float over the grass. And still he was unable to tell -what that form might be, and was willing to believe himself the victim -of some delusion, when, with a nimble spring like that of some wild -goat, a woman crossed the road and lightly threw him a little nosegay, -which brushed against his face like a caress. It was a little bunch of -mountain pansies, just gathered among the rocks, and of such powerful -aroma, that he was quite perfumed by it. - -Josine!--he divined that it was she, he recognised her by that fresh -sign of her heart's thankfulness, by that adorable gesture of infinite -gratitude! And it all seemed to him exquisite in that dimness, at that -late hour, though he could not tell how she had happened to be there, -whether she had been watching for his return, and how she could have -contrived to come, unless indeed Ragu were working at a night-shift. -Without a word, having had no other desire than that of expressing her -feelings by the gift of those flowers, which she had so lightly thrown -him, she was already fleeing, disappearing into the darkness spread -over the uncultivated moor; and only then did Luc distinguish another -and a smaller form, that assuredly of Nanet, bounding along near her. -They both vanished, and then he again heard nought save the hammers -of the Abyss, ever rhythmically beating in the distance. His torment -was not passed, but his heart had been warmed by a glow which seemed -to bring him invincible strength. It was with rapture that he inhaled -the little nosegay. Ah! the power of kindness, which is the bond of -brotherhood, the power of tenderness, by which alone happiness is -created, the power of love, which will save and make the world anew! - - -[1] It may be presumed that M. Zola means centigrade degrees.--_Trans._ - -[2] The meaning is 'Little Dolt,' 'Da' being a contraction of -'Dadais.'--_Trans._ - - - -V - - -Luc went to bed and put out the light, hoping that his weariness of -mind and body would bring him sound and refreshing sleep, in which his -fever would at last be dispelled. But when the large room sank into -silence and obscurity around him he found himself quite unable to close -his eyes--they stared into the darkness, and terrible insomnia kept him -burning hot, still a prey to his one obstinate, all-consuming idea. - -Josine was ever rising before him, coming back again and again with -her childish face and doleful charm. He once more saw her in tears, -standing, full of terror, as she waited near the gate of the Abyss; he -again saw her standing in the wine-shop, then thrown into the street by -Ragu in so brutal a fashion that blood gushed from her maimed hand; and -he saw her too on the bench near the Mionne, forsaken amidst the tragic -night, satisfying her hunger like some poor wandering animal, and -having no prospect before her save a final tumble into the gutter. And -now, after those three days of unexpected, almost unconscious inquiry, -to which destiny had led him, all that he, Luc, had beheld of unjustly -apportioned toil--toil derided as if it were shame, toil conducting to -the most atrocious misery for the vast majority of mankind, became in -his eyes synthetised in the distressing case of that sorry girl whose -misfortunes wrung his heart. - -Visions arose, thronging around him, pressing forward, haunting him -to the point of torture. He beheld terror careering through the -black streets of Beauclair, along which tramped all the disinherited -wretches, secretly dreaming of vengeance. He saw reasoned, organised, -and fatal revolution dawning in such homes as the Bonnaires' cold, -bare, sorry rooms, where even the mere necessaries of life were -wanting, where lack of work compelled the toiler to tighten his -waistband, and left the family starving. And, on the other hand, he -beheld at La Guerdache all the insolence of corrupting luxury, all the -poisonous enjoyment which was finishing off the privileged plutocrats, -that handful of _bourgeois_ satiated with idleness, gorged to stifling -point with all the iniquitous wealth which they stole from the labour -and the tears of the immense majority of the workers. And even at -La Crêcherie, that wildly lofty blast-furnace, where not one worker -complained, the long efforts of mankind were stricken, so to say, by -a curse, immobilised in eternal dolour, without hope of any complete -freeing of the race, of its final deliverance from slavery, and the -entry of one and all into the city of justice and peace. And Luc had -seen and heard Beauclair cracking upon all sides, for the fratricidal -warfare was not waged only between classes, its destructive ferment -was perverting families, a blast of folly and hatred was sweeping by, -filling every heart with bitterness. Monstrous dramas soiled homes that -should have been cleanly, fathers, mothers, and children alike rolled -into the sewers. Folk lied unceasingly, they stole, they killed. And at -the end of wretchedness and hunger came crime perforce: woman selling -herself, man sinking to drink, all human kind becoming a rageful beast -that rushed along intent solely upon satisfying its vices. Many were -the frightful signs that announced the inevitable catastrophe; the old -social framework was about to topple down amidst blood and mire. - -Horror-stricken by those visions of shame and chastisement, weeping -with all the human tenderness within him, Luc then again saw the -pale phantom of Josine returning from the depths of the darkness and -stretching out arms of entreaty. And then, in his fancy, none but her -remained; it was upon her that the worm-eaten, leprous edifice would -fall. She became, as it were, the one victim, she, the puny little -workgirl with the maimed hand, who was starving and who would roll into -the gutter, a pitiable yet charming creature, in whom seemed to be -embodied all the misery that arose from the accursed wage-system. He -now suffered as she must suffer, and, above all else, in his wild dream -of saving Beauclair there was a craving to save her. If some superhuman -power had made him almighty he would have transformed that town, now -rotted by egotism, into a happy abode of solidarity, in order that she -might be happy. He realised at present that this dream of his was an -old one, that it had always possessed him since the days when he had -lived in one of the poor quarters of Paris, among the obscure heroes -and the dolorous victims of labour. It was a dream into which entered -secret disquietude respecting the future, that future which he dared -not predict, and an idea that some mysterious mission had been confided -to him. And all at once, amidst the confusion in which he still -struggled, it seemed to him that the decisive hour had come. Josine was -starving, Josine was sobbing, and that could be allowed no longer. He -must act, he must at once relieve all the misery and all the suffering, -in order that things so iniquitous might cease. - -Weary as he was, however, he at last fell into a doze, in the midst -of which it seemed as if voices were calling him. Thus before long he -awoke with a start, and then the voices seemed to gather strength, as -if wildly summoning him to that urgent work for which the hour had -struck, and the imperious need of which he fully recognised, though how -to accomplish it he could not tell. And above all other appeals, he -finally heard the call of a very gentle voice, which he recognised--the -voice of Josine, lamenting and entreating. From that moment again she -alone seemed to be present, he could feel the warm caress of the kiss -which she had set upon his hand, and could smell the little bunch of -pansies which she had thrown him as he stood at the window. Indeed, -the wild fragrance of the flowers now seemed to fill the whole room. -Then he struggled no longer. He lighted his candle, rose, and for a -few minutes walked about the room. In order to rid his brain of the -fixed idea which oppressed it he strove to think of nothing. He looked -at the few old engravings hanging from the walls, he looked at the -old-fashioned articles of furniture which spoke of Doctor Michon's -simple and studious habits, he gazed around the whole room, in which -a deal of kindliness, good sense, and wisdom seemed to have lingered. -At last his attention became riveted on the bookcase. It was a rather -large one, with glass doors, and therein the former Saint-Simonian -and Fourierist had gathered together the humanitarian writings -which had fired his mind in youth. All the social philosophers, all -the precursors, all the apostles of the new Gospel figured there: -Saint-Simon, Fourier, Auguste Comte, Proudhon, Cabet, Pierre Leroux, -with others and others--indeed, a complete collection, down to the most -obscure disciples. And Luc, candle in hand, read the names and titles -on the backs of the volumes, counted them, and grew astonished at their -number, at the fact that so much good seed should have been cast to the -winds, that so many good words should be slumbering there, waiting for -the harvest. - -He himself had read widely, he was well acquainted with the chief -passages of most of those books. The philosophical, economical, and -social systems of their authors were familiar to him. But never as now, -on finding these authors all united there in a serried phalanx, had -he been so clearly conscious of their force, their value, the human -evolution which they typified. They formed, so to say, the advance -guard of the future century, an advance guard soon to be followed by -the huge army of the nations. And on seeing them thus, side by side, -peaceably mingling together, endowed by union with sovereign strength, -Luc was particularly struck by their intense brotherliness. He was -not ignorant of the contradictory views which had formerly parted -them, of the desperate battles even which they had waged together, but -they now seemed to have become all brothers, reconciled in a common -Gospel, in the unique and final truths which all of them had brought. -And that which arose from their words like a dawning promise was that -religion of humanity in which they had all believed, their love for the -disinherited ones of the world, their hatred of all social injustice, -their faith in Work as the true saviour of mankind. - -Opening the bookcase, Luc wished to select one of the volumes. Since he -was unable to sleep, he would read a few pages, and thus take patience -until slumber should come to him. He hesitated for a moment, and at -last selected a very little volume, in which one of Fourier's disciples -had summed up the whole of his master's work. The title 'Solidarité' -had moved the young man. Would he not find in that book a few pages -brimful of strength and hope such as he needed? Thus, he slipped into -bed again, and began to read. And soon he became as passionately -interested in his reading as if he had before him some poignant drama -in which the fate of the whole human race was decided. The author's -doctrines thus condensed, reduced to the very essence of the truths -they contained, acquired extraordinary power. Fourier's genius had in -the first place asserted itself in turning the passions of man into -the very forces of life. The long and disastrous error of Catholicism -had lain in ever seeking to muzzle the passions, in striving to kill -the man within man, to fling him like a slave at the foot of a deity -of tyranny and nothingness. In the free future society conceived by -Fourier the passions were to produce as much good as they had produced -evil in the chained and terrorised society of the dead centuries. -They constituted immortal desire, the energy which raises worlds, the -internal furnace of will and strength which imparts to each being the -power to act. Man deprived of a single passion would be mutilated, as -if he were deprived of one of his senses. Instincts, hitherto thrust -back and crushed, as if they were evil beasts, would when once they -were freed become only the various needs of universal attraction, all -tending towards unity, striving amidst obstacles to meet and mingle in -final harmony, that ultimate expression of universal happiness. And -there were really no egotists, no idlers; there were only men hungering -for unity and harmony, who would march on in all brotherliness as soon -as they should see that the road was wide enough for all to pass along -it at ease and happily. As for the victims of the heavy servitude that -oppressed the manual toilers who were angered by unjust, excessive, -and often inappropriate tasks, they would all be ready to work right -joyfully as soon as simply their logical chosen share of the great -common labour should be allotted to them. - -Then another stroke of genius on Fourier's part was the restoration -of work to a position of honour, by making it the public function, -the pride, health, gaiety, and very law of life. It would suffice to -reorganise work in order to reorganise the whole of society, of which -work would be the one civic obligation, the vital rule. There would -be no further question of brutally imposing work on vanquished men, -mercenaries crushed down and treated like famished beasts of burden; on -the contrary, work would be freely accepted by all, allotted according -to tastes and natures, performed during the few hours that might be -indispensable, and constantly varied according to the choice of the -voluntary toilers. A town would become an immense hive in which there -would not be one idler, and in which each citizen would contribute his -share towards the general sum of labour which might be necessary for -the town to live. The tendency towards unity and final harmony would -draw the inhabitants together and compel them to group themselves -among the various series of workers. And the whole mechanism would -rest in that: the workman choosing the task which he could perform -most joyously, not riveted for ever to one and the same calling, but -passing from one form of work to another. Moreover, the world would -not be revolutionised all of a sudden, the beginnings would be small, -the system being tried first of all in some township of a few thousand -souls. The dream would then approach fulfilment, the phalange, the unit -at the base of the great human army would be created; the phalanstery, -the common house, would be built. At first, too, one would simply -appeal to willing men, and link them together in such wise as to form -an association of capital, work, and talent. Those who now possessed -money, those whose arms were strong, and those who had brains would be -asked to come to an understanding and combine, putting their various -means together. They would produce with an energy and an abundance -far greater than now, and they would divide the profits they reaped -as equitably as possible, until the day came when capital, work, and -talent might be blended together and form the common patrimony of a -free brotherhood, in which everything would belong to everybody amidst -general harmony. - -At each page of the little book which Luc was reading the loving -splendour of its title 'Solidarité' became more and more apparent. -Certain phrases shone forth like beacon-fires. Man's reason was -infallible; truth was absolute; a truth demonstrated by science became -irrevocable, eternal. Work was to be a festival. Each man's happiness -would some day rest in the happiness of others. Neither envy nor -hatred would be left when room was at last found in the world for the -happiness of one and all. In the social machine, all intermediaries -that were useless and led to a waste of strength would be suppressed; -thus commerce, as it is now understood, would be condemned, and the -consumer would deal with the producer. All parasitic growths, the -innumerable vegetations living upon social corruption, upon the -permanent state of war in which men now languish, would be mown down. -There would be no more armies, no more courts of law, no more prisons! -And, above all, amidst the great Dawn which would thus have risen, -there would appear Justice flaming like the sun, driving away misery, -giving to each being that was born the right to live and partake of -daily bread, and allotting to one and all his or her due share of -happiness. - -Luc had ceased reading: he was reflecting now. The whole great, -heroic Nineteenth Century spread out before his mind's eye, with its -continuous battling, its dolorous, valiant efforts to attain to truth -and justice. The irresistible democratic advance, the rise of the -masses filled that century from end to end. The Revolution at the end -of the previous one had brought only the middle classes to power; -another century was needed for the evolution to become complete, for -the people to obtain its share of influence. Seeds germinated, however, -in the old and often ploughed monarchical soil; and already during -the days of '48 the question of the wage-system was plainly brought -forward, the claims of the workers becoming more and more precise, -and shaking the new _régime_ of the _bourgeois_, whom egotistical -and tyrannical possession was in their turn rotting. And now, on the -threshold of the new century, as soon as the spreading onrush of -the masses should have carried the old social framework away, the -reoganisation of labour would prove the very foundation-stone of future -society, which would only be able to exist by a just apportionment of -wealth. The violent crisis which had overthrown empires when the old -world passed from servitude to the wage-system was as nothing compared -with the terrible crisis which for the last hundred years had shaken -and ravaged nations, that crisis of the wage-system passing through -successive evolutions and transformations, and tending to become -something else. And from that something else would be born the happy -and brotherly social system of to-morrow. - -Luc gently put down the little book and blew out his light. He had -grown calmer now, and could feel that peaceful, restoring sleep was -approaching. True, no precise answers had come to the urgent appeals -which had previously upset him; but he heard those appeals no more. -It was as if the disinherited beings who had raised them were now -conscious that they had been heard, and were taking patience. Seed was -sown and the harvest would rise. Luc himself was troubled with no more -feverishness, he felt that his mind was pregnant with ideas, to which -indeed it might give birth on the very morrow if his night's slumber -should be good. And he ended by yielding to his great need of repose, -and fell with delight into a deep sleep, visited by genius, faith, and -will. - -When he awoke at seven o'clock on the following morning his first -thought on seeing the sun rise in the broad clear sky was to go out -without warning the Jordans and climb the rocky stairway leading to -the smeltery. He wished to see Morfain again, and obtain certain -information from him. In this respect he was yielding to a sudden -inspiration. With reference to the advice which Jordan had asked of -him, he desired above all to arrive at some precise opinion respecting -the old abandoned mine. The master-smelter, a son of the mountains, -must know, he thought, every stone of it. And indeed Morfain, whom he -found up and about, after his night spent beside the furnace, which -decidedly had now recovered from its ailment, became quite impassioned -directly the mine was mentioned to him. He had always had an idea -of his own, which nobody would heed, although he had often given -expression to it. To his thinking, old Laroche, the engineer, had done -wrong in despairing and forsaking the mine directly the working of it -had failed to prove remunerative. The vein which had been followed -had certainly become an abominable one, charged with sulphur and -phosphates to such a degree that nothing good came out in the smelting. -But Morfain was convinced that they were simply crossing a bad vein, -and that it would be sufficient to carry the galleries further, or to -open fresh ones at a point of the gorge which he designated, in order -to find once more the same excellent ore as formerly. And he based -his opinion upon observation, upon knowledge of all the rocks of the -region, which he had scaled and explored for forty years. As he put it, -he was not a man of science, he was only a poor toiler, and did not -presume to compete with those gentlemen the engineers. Nevertheless -he was astonished that no confidence was shown in his keen scent, and -that his superiors should have simply shrugged their shoulders without -consenting to test his predictions by a few borings. - -The man's quiet confidence impressed Luc the more especially since he -was inclined to pass a severe judgment on the inertia of old Laroche, -who had left the mine in an abandoned state even after the discovery -of the chemical process which would have allowed the defective ore to -be profitably utilised. That alone showed into what slumberous routine -the working of the furnace had fallen. The mine ought to be worked -again immediately, even if they had to rest content with treating the -ore chemically. But what would it be if Morfain's convictions should -be realised, and they should again come upon rich and pure lodes! Thus -Luc immediately accepted the master-smelter's proposal to take a stroll -in the direction of the abandoned galleries, in order that the other -might explain his ideas on the spot. That clear and fresh September -morning, the walk among the rocks, through the lonely wilds fragrant -with lavender, was delightful. During three hours the two men climbed -up and down the sides of the gorges, visiting the grottoes, following -the pine-covered ridges where the rocks jutted up through the soil like -portions of the skeleton of some huge buried monster. And by degrees -Morfain's conviction gained upon Luc, bringing him at least a hope -that there in that spot lay a treasure which man in his sloth had -passed by, and which earth, the inexhaustible mother, was prepared to -yield to those who might seek it. - -As it was more than noon when the explorations terminated Luc accepted -a proposal to lunch off eggs and milk up in the Bleuse Mountains. When -about two o'clock he came down again, delighted, his lungs inflated by -the free mountain air, the Jordans received him with exclamations, for -not knowing what had become of him they had begun to grow anxious. He -apologised for not having warned them, and related that he had lost his -way among the tablelands, and had lunched with some peasants there. He -ventured to tell this fib because the Jordans, whom he found still at -table, were not alone. As was their custom every second Tuesday of the -month, they had with them three guests, Abbé Marle, Doctor Novarre, -and Hermeline, the schoolmaster, whom Sœurette delighted to gather -together, laughingly calling them her privy councillors, because they -all three helped her in her charitable works. The doors of La Crêcherie -which were usually kept closed, Jordan living there in solitude like -some cloistered scientist, were thrown open for those three visitors, -who were treated as intimates. It could not be said, however, that they -owed this favour to their cordial agreement, for they were perpetually -disputing together. But, on the other hand, their discussions amused -Sœurette, and indeed rendered her yet more partial to them, since they -proved a distraction for Jordan, who listened to them smiling. - -'So you have lunched?' said Sœurette, addressing Luc. 'Still, that -won't prevent you from taking a cup of coffee with us, will it?' - -'Oh! I'll accept the cup of coffee,' he answered gaily. 'You are too -amiable--I deserve the bitterest reproaches.' - -They then passed into the drawing-room. Its windows were open, the -lawns of the park spread out, and all the exquisite aroma of the great -trees came into the house. In a horn-shaped porcelain vase bloomed -a splendid bouquet of roses--roses which Doctor Novarre lovingly -cultivated, and a bunch of which he brought for Sœurette each time that -he lunched at La Crêcherie. - -Whilst the coffee was being served a discussion on educational matters -began afresh between the priest and the schoolmaster, who had not -ceased battling on this subject since the beginning of the lunch. - -'If you can do nothing with your pupils,' declared Abbé Marle, 'it is -because you have driven religion out of your schools. God is the master -of human intelligence; one knows nothing excepting through Him.' - -Tall and sturdy, with his eagle beak set in a broad, full, regular -face, the priest spoke with all the authoritative stubbornness born of -his narrow doctrines, placing the only chance of the world's salvation -in Catholicism, and the rigid observance of its dogmas. And, in front -of him, Hermeline, the schoolmaster, slim of build and angular of face, -with a bony forehead and pointed chin, evinced similar stubbornness, -being quite as formalist and authoritative as the other in the practice -of his own mechanical religion of progress, which last was to be -arrived at by dint of laws and military discipline. - -'Don't bother me,' said he, 'with your religion, which has never led -men to aught but error and ruin. If I get nothing out of my pupils it -is because, in the first place, they are taken from me too early, to -be placed in the factories. And secondly, and more particularly, it -is because there is less and less discipline, because the master is -left without any authority. If a child is whipped nowadays the parents -shriek like a pack of fools. But if I were only allowed to give those -youngsters a few good canings I think I should open their minds a -little.' - -Then, as Sœurette, quite affected by this theory, began to protest, he -explained his views. For him, given the general corruption, there was -only one means of saving society, which was to subject the children -to the discipline of liberty, insert belief in republican principles -in them by force, if necessary, and in such a manner that they should -never lose it. His dream was to make each pupil a servant of the State, -a slave of the State, one who sacrificed to the State his entire -personality. And he could picture nothing beyond one and the same -lesson, learnt by all in one and the same manner, with the one object -of serving the community. Such was his harsh and doleful religion, a -religion in which the democracy was delivered from the past by dint of -punishments, and then again condemned to forced labour, happiness being -decreed under penalty of being caned. - -But Abbé Marle obstinately repeated: 'Outside the pale of Catholicism -there is only darkness.' - -'Why, Catholicism is toppling over!' exclaimed Hermeline. 'It's for -that very reason that we have to raise another social framework.' - -The priest, no doubt, was conscious of the supreme battle which -Catholicism was waging against the spirit of science, whose victory -spread day by day. But he would not acknowledge it; he did not even -admit that his church was gradually emptying. 'Catholicism!' he -resumed, 'its framework is still so solid, so eternal, so divine, that -you copy it when you talk of raising I know not what atheistical State -in which you would replace the Deity by some mechanical contrivance -appointed to instruct and govern men!' - -'Some mechanical contrivance, why not!' retorted Hermeline, exasperated -by the touch of truth contained in the priest's attack. 'Rome has never -been aught but a wine-press, pressing out the blood of the world!' - -When their discussions reached this violent stage Doctor Novarre -usually intervened in his smiling and conciliatory way. 'Come, come, -don't get heated!' said he. 'You are on the point of agreeing, since -you have got so far as to accuse one another of copying your religions -one from the other.' - -Short and spare, with a slender nose and keen eyes, the doctor was a -man of a tolerant, gentle, but slightly sarcastic turn of mind, one -who, having given himself to science, refused to let himself be excited -by political and social questions. Like Jordan, whose great friend -he was, he often said that he only adopted truths when they had been -scientifically demonstrated. Modest, timid, too, as he was, without any -ambition, he contented himself with healing his patients to the best -of his ability, and his only passion was for the rosebushes which he -cultivated between the four walls of the garden of the little dwelling -where he lived in happy peacefulness. - -Luc had hitherto contented himself with listening. But at last he -recalled what he had read the previous night, and he then spoke out: -'The terrible part of it,' said he, 'is that in our schools the -starting-point is invariably the idea that man is an evil being, who -brings into the world with him a spirit of rebellion and sloth, and -that a perfect system of punishments and rewards is necessary if one -is to get anything out of him. Thus education has been turned into -torture, and study has become as repulsive to our brains as manual -labour is to our limbs. Our professors have been turned into so many -gaolers ruling a scholastic penitentiary, and the mission given to them -is that of kneading the minds of children in accordance with certain -fixed programmes, and running them all through one and the same mould, -without taking any account of varying individualities. Thus the masters -are no longer aught but the slayers of initiative; they crush all -critical spirit, all free examination, all personal awakening of talent -beneath a pile of ready-made ideas and official-truths, and the worst -is that the characters of the children are affected quite as badly as -their minds, and that the system of teaching employed produces in the -long run little else but dolts and hypocrites.' - -Hermeline must have fancied that he was being personally attacked, for -he now broke in rather sharply: 'But how would you have one proceed -then, monsieur? Come and take my place, and you will soon see how -little you will get out of the pupils if you don't subject them one -and all to the same discipline, like a master who for them is the -embodiment of authority.' - -'The master,' continued Luc with his dreamy air, 'should have no other -duty than that of awakening energy and encouraging the child's aptitude -in one or another respect by provoking questions from him and enabling -him to develop his personality. Deep in the human race there is an -immense insatiable craving to learn and know, and this should be the -one incentive to study without need of any rewards or punishments. It -would evidently be sufficient if one contented oneself with giving each -pupil facilities for prosecuting the particular studies that pleased -him, and with rendering those studies attractive to him, allowing him -to engage in them by himself, then progress in them by the force of his -own understanding, with the continually recurring delight of making -fresh discoveries. For men to make their offspring men by treating them -as such, is not that the whole educational problem which has to be -solved?' - -Abbé Marle, who was finishing his coffee, shrugged his broad shoulders; -and, like a priest whom dogma endowed with infallibility, he remarked: -'Sin is in man, and he can only be saved by penitence. Idleness, -which is one of the capital sins, can only be redeemed by labour, the -punishment which God imposed on the first man after the fall.' - -'But that's an error, Abbé,' quietly said Doctor Novarre. 'Idleness is -simply a malady when it really exists, that is, when the body refuses -to work, shrinks from all fatigue. You may be certain then that this -invincible languor is a sign of grave internal disorder. And apart -from that, where have you ever seen idle people? Take those who are -so-called idle people by race, habit, and taste. Does not a society -lady, who dances all night at a ball, do greater harm to her eyesight -and expend far more muscular energy than a workwoman who sits at her -little table embroidering till daylight? Do not the men of pleasure, -who are for ever figuring in public, taking part in exhausting -festivities, work in their own way quite as hard as the men who toil -at their benches and anvils? And remember how lightly and joyfully, -on emerging from some repulsive task, we all rush into some violent -amusement or exercise which tires out our limbs. The meaning of it -all is that work is only oppressive when it does not please us. And -if one could succeed in imposing on people only such work as would be -agreeable to them, as they might freely choose, there would certainly -be no idlers left.' - -But Hermeline in his turn shrugged his shoulders, saying: 'Ask a child -which he prefers, his grammar or his arithmetic. He will tell you that -he prefers neither. The whole question has been threshed out; a child -is a sapling which needs to be trained straight and corrected.' - -'And one can only correct,' said the priest, this time in full -agreement with the schoolmaster, 'by crushing everything in any way -shameful or diabolic that original sin has left in man.' - -Silence fell. Sœurette had been listening intently, whilst Jordan, -looking out through one of the windows, let his glance stray -thoughtfully under the big trees. In the words of the priest and the -schoolmaster Luc recognised the pessimist conceptions of Catholicism -adopted by the sectarian followers of progress, which the State was to -decree by exercise of authority. Man was regarded as a child ever in -fault. His passions were hunted down: for centuries efforts had been -made to crush them, to kill the man which was within man. And then -again, Luc recalled Fourier, who had preached quite another doctrine: -the passions, utilised and ennobled, becoming necessary creative -energies, whilst man was at last delivered from the deadly weight of -the religions of nothingness, which are merely so many hateful social -police systems devised to maintain the usurpation of the powerful and -the rich. - -And Luc, as though reflecting aloud, thereupon resumed, 'It would be -sufficient to convince people of this truth, that the greater the -happiness realised for all, the greater will be the happiness of the -individual.' - -But Hermeline and Abbé Marle began to laugh. - -'That's no use!' said the schoolmaster. 'To awaken energy, you begin -by destroying personal interest. Pray explain to me what motive will -prompt man to action when he no longer works for himself? Personal -interest is like the fire under the boiler, it will be found at the -outset of all work. But you would crush it, and although you desire man -to retain all his instincts you begin by depriving him of his egotism. -Perhaps you rely on conscience, on the idea of honour and duty?' - -'I don't need to rely on that,' Luc answered in the same quiet way. -'Truth to tell, egotism, such as we have hitherto understood it, has -given us such a frightful social system, instinct with so much hatred -and suffering, that it would really be allowable to try some other -factor. But I repeat that I accept egotism if by such you mean the -very legitimate desire, the invincible craving, which each man has for -happiness. Far from destroying personal interest, I would strengthen -it by making it what it ought to be in order to bring about the happy -community in which the happiness of each will be the outcome of the -happiness of all. Besides, it is sufficient that we should be convinced -that in working for others we are working for ourselves. Social -injustice sows eternal hatred, and universal suffering is the crop. For -those reasons an agreement must be arrived at for the reorganisation of -work based upon the certainty that our own highest felicity will some -day be the result of felicity in the homes of our neighbours.' - -Hermeline sneered, and Abbé Marle again broke in: '"Love one another," -that is the teaching of our Divine Master. Only He also said that -happiness was not of this world, and it is assuredly guilty madness to -attempt to set the Kingdom of God upon this earth when it is in heaven.' - -'Yet that will some day be done,' Luc retorted. 'The whole effort of -mankind upon its march, all progress and all science, tend to that -future city of happiness.' - -But the schoolmaster, who was no longer listening, eagerly assailed -the priest: 'Ah! no, Abbé, don't begin again with your promises of a -celestial paradise; they are only fit to dupe the poor. And besides, -Jesus of Nazareth really belongs to us; you stole Him from us, and -arranged His sayings and everything else in order to suit the purposes -of your domination. As a matter of fact, He was simply a revolutionary -and a free-thinker!' - -Thus the battle began anew, and Doctor Novarre had to calm them once -more by showing that one was right in certain respects and the other -in others. As usual, however, the various questions which had been -debated remained in suspense, for no final solution was ever arrived -at. The coffee had been drunk long since, and it was Jordan who, in his -thoughtful manner, put in the last word. - -'The one sole truth,' said he, 'lies in Work; the world will some day -become such as Work will make it.' - -Then Sœurette, who, without intervening, had listened to Luc -with passionate interest, spoke of a refuge which she thought of -establishing for the infant children of factory women. From that moment -the doctor, schoolmaster, and priest engaged in quiet and friendly -conversation as to how this asylum might best be organised, and the -abuses of similar establishments avoided. And, meantime, the shadows -of the great trees lengthened over the lawns of the park, and the -wood-pigeons flew down to the grass in the golden September sunshine. - -It was already four o'clock when the three guests quitted La Crêcherie. -Jordan and Luc, for the sake of a little exercise, accompanied them as -far as the first houses of the town. Then, on their way back across -some stony fields which Jordan left uncultivated, the latter suggested -that they should extend their stroll a little in order to call upon -Lange the potter. Jordan had allowed him to instal himself in a wild -nook of his estate below the smeltery, asking no rent or other payment -from him. And Lange, like Morfain, had made himself a dwelling in a -rocky cavity which some of the old torrents rushing past the lower part -of the Bleuse Mountains had excavated in the gigantic wall formed by -the promontory. Moreover, he had ended by constructing three kilns near -the slope whence he took his clay; and he lived there without God or -master amidst all the free independence of his work. - -'No doubt he's a man of extreme views,' added Jordan, in answer to a -question from Luc, who felt greatly interested in Lange. 'What you told -me about his violent outburst in the Rue de Brias the other evening -did not surprise me. He was lucky in getting released, for the affair -might have turned out very badly for him. But you have no notion how -intelligent he is, and what art he puts into his simple earthen pots, -although he has virtually had no education. He was born hereabouts, and -his parents were poor workpeople. Left an orphan at ten years of age, -he worked as a mason's help, then as an apprentice potter, and now, -since I've allowed him to settle on my land, he is his own employer, as -he laughingly puts it.... I am the more particularly interested in some -attempts he is making with refractory clay, for, as you know, I want -to find the clay best suited to resist the terrible temperature of my -electrical furnaces.' - -At last, on looking up, Luc perceived Lange's dwelling-place among -the bushes. Faced by a little parapet of dry stones, it suggested -a barbarian camp. And as the young man saw a tall, shapely, -dark-oomplexioned girl erect upon the threshold he inquired: 'Is Lange -married, then?' - -'No,' replied Jordan, 'but he lives with that girl, who is both his -slave and his wife. It is quite a romance. Five years ago, when she -was barely fifteen, he found her lying in a ditch, very ill, half dead -in fact, abandoned there by some band of gypsies. Nobody has ever -known exactly where she came from; she herself won't answer when she's -questioned. Well, Lange carried her home upon his shoulders, nursed -her and cured her, and you can't imagine the ardent gratitude that she -has always shown him since. She lacked even shoes for her feet when -he found her. Even to-day she seldom puts any on, unless indeed she -is going down into the town; in such wise that the whole district and -even Lange himself call her 'Barefeet.' She is the only person that he -employs, she helps him with his work and even in dragging his barrow -when he goes about the fairs to sell his pottery, for that is his way -of disposing of his goods, which are well known throughout the region.' - -Erect on the threshold of the little enclosure, which had a gate of -open fencing, Barefeet watched the gentlemen approach, and thus Luc on -his side was well able to examine her with her dark regular-featured -face, her hair black as ink, and her large wild eyes, which became full -of ineffable tenderness whenever they turned upon Lange. The young man -also remarked her bare feet, childish feet, of a light bronze hue, -resting in the clayey soil, which was always damp. And she stood there -in working costume, that is, barely clad in garments of grey linen, -and showing her shapely legs and muscular arms. When she had come to -the conclusion that the gentleman accompanying the owner of the estate -was a friend, she quitted her post of observation, and, after warning -Lange, returned to the kiln which she had previously been watching. - -'Ah! it's you, Monsieur Jordan,' exclaimed Lange, in his turn -presenting himself. 'Do you know that since that affair the other -evening Barefeet is for ever imagining that people are coming to -arrest me. I fancy that if any policeman should present himself here -he would not escape whole from her clutches.... You have come to see -my last refractory bricks, eh? Well, here they are--I'll tell you the -composition.' - -Luc readily recognised the knotty little man, of whom he had caught a -glimpse amidst the gloom of the Rue de Brias whilst he was announcing -the inevitable catastrophe, and cursing that corrupt town of Beauclair, -whose crimes had condemned it. Only, as he now scrutinised him in -detail, he was surprised by the loftiness of his brow, over which fell -a dark tangle of hair, and the keenness of his eyes, which glittered -with intelligence, and at times flared up with anger. Most of all, -however, the young fellow was surprised at divining beneath a rugged -exterior and apparent violence a man of contemplative nature, a gentle -dreamer, a simple rustic poet, who, urged on by his absolute ideas of -justice, had finally come to the point of desiring to annihilate the -old and guilty world. - -After introducing Luc as an engineer, a friend of his, Jordan asked -Lange with a laugh to show the young man what he called his museum. - -'Oh! if it can interest the gentleman, willingly,' said Lange; 'they -are merely things which I fire for amusement's sake--there, all that -pottery under the shed. You may give it all a glance, monsieur, while I -explain my bricks to Monsieur Jordan.' - -Luc's astonishment increased. Under the shed he found a number of -faïence figures, vases, pots, and dishes of the strangest shapes and -colours, which, whilst denoting great ignorance on the maker's part, -were yet delightful in their original _naïveté_. The firings had at -times yielded some superb results; much of the enamel displayed a -wondrous richness of tone. But what particularly struck the young man -among the current pottery which Lange prepared for his usual customers -at the markets and fairs, the crockery, the stock-pots, the pitchers -and basins, was the elegance of shape and charm of colour which -showed forth like some florescence of the popular genius. It seemed -indeed as if the potter had derived his talent from his race, that -those creations of his, instinct with the soul of the masses, sprang -naturally from his big fingers, as though in fact he had intuitively -rediscovered the primitive models, so full of practical beauty. - -When Lange came back with Jordan, who had ordered of him a few hundred -bricks with which it was intended to try a new electrical furnace, he -received with a smile the congratulations tendered him by Luc, who -marvelled at the gaiety of the faïences, which looked so bright, so -flowery with purple and azure, in the broad sunlight. - -'Yes, yes,' said the potter, 'they set a few poppies and cornflowers, -as it were, in people's houses. I've always thought that roofs and -house-fronts ought to be decorated in that style. It would not cost -very much, if the tradesmen would only leave off thieving; and you'd -see, too, how pleasant a town would look--quite like a nosegay set in -greenery. But there's nothing to be done with the dirty _bourgeois_ of -nowadays!' - -Then he at once lapsed into his sectarian passion, plunged into the -ideas of Anarchy which he had derived from a few pamphlets that by -some chance had fallen into his hands. First of all one had to destroy -everything, seize everything in revolutionary style. Salvation would -only be obtained by the annihilation of all authority, for if any, even -the most insignificant, remained standing, it would suffice for the -reconstruction of the whole edifice of iniquity and tyranny. Next the -free commune, without any government whatever, might be established by -means of agreement between different groups, which would incessantly -be varied and modified, according to the desires and needs of each. -Luc was struck at finding in this theory much that had been devised by -Fourier, and indeed the ultimate dream was the same, even if the roads -to be followed were different. Thus the Anarchist was but a Fourierist, -a disabused and exasperated Collectivist, who no longer believed in -political means, but was resolved to use force and extermination as his -instrument to reach social happiness, since centuries of slow evolution -seemed unlikely to achieve it. And thus, when Luc mentioned Bonnaire, -Lange became quite ferocious in his irony, showing more bitter disdain -for the master-puddler than he would have shown for a _bourgeois_. Ah, -yes, indeed! Bonnaire's barracks, that famous Collectivism in which one -would be numbered, disciplined, imprisoned as in a penitentiary! And -stretching out his fist towards Beauclair, whose roofs he overlooked, -the potter once more poured his lamentation, his prophetic curse, upon -that corrupt town which fire would destroy, and which would be razed to -the very ground in order that the city of truth and justice might at -last rise from its ashes. - -Astonished by this violence, Jordan looked at him curiously, saying: -'But, Lange, my good fellow, you are not so badly off.' - -'I, Monsieur Jordan, I'm very happy, as happy as one can be. I live in -freedom here, and it's almost the realisation of anarchy. You have let -me take this little bit of earth, the earth which belongs to us all, -and I'm my own master; I pay rent to nobody. Then, too, I work as I -fancy; I've no employer to crush me, and no workman for me to crush; I -myself sell my pots and pitchers to good folk who need them, without -being robbed by tradesmen or allowing them to rob customers. And when -I'm so inclined I've still time to amuse myself by firing those faïence -figures and ornamental pots and plates, whose bright colours please my -eyes. Ah! no, indeed, we don't complain, we feel happy in living when -the sun comes to cheer us. Isn't that so, Barefeet?' - -The girl had drawn near, with her hands quite pink from removing a pot -from the wheel. And she smiled divinely as she looked at the man, the -god whose servant she had made herself, and to whom she wholly belonged. - -'But all the same,' resumed Lange, 'there are too many poor devils -suffering, and so we shall have to blow up Beauclair one of these fine -mornings in order that it may be built again properly. Propaganda by -deeds is the only thing that is of any good; only bombs can rouse the -people. And do you know that I've everything here that's necessary -to prepare two or three dozen bombs which would prove wonderfully -powerful. Some fine day, perhaps, I shall start off with the barrow, -which I pull in front, you know, while Barefeet pushes it behind. It's -fairly heavy when it is laden with pottery, and one has to drag it -along the bad village roads from market to market. So we take a rest -now and again under the trees, at spots where there are springs handy. -Only, that day, we sha'n't quit Beauclair, we shall go along all the -streets, and there'll be a bomb hidden in each stock-pot. We shall -deposit one at the sub-prefecture, another at the town-hall, another -at the law courts, then another at the church, at all the places in -fact where there's anything in the shape of authority to be destroyed. -The matches will burn, each will last the necessary time. Then all at -once Beauclair will go up! A frightful eruption will burn it and carry -it away. Eh? What do you think of that, of my little promenade, with -my barrow, and my little distribution of the stock-pots I'm making to -bring about the happiness of mankind?' - -He laughed a laugh of ecstasy, his face all aglow with excitement, and -as the beautiful dark girl began to laugh with him he turned and said -to her: 'Isn't that so, Barefeet? I'll pull and you shall push, and -it will be even a finer walk than the one we take under the willows -alongside the Mionne when we go to the fair at Magnolles!' - -Jordan did not argue the point, but made a gesture as much as to say -that he, as a scientist, regarded such a conception as imbecility. -But when they had taken leave and were returning to La Crêcherie Luc -quivered at the thought of that black poem, that dream of ensuring -happiness by destruction, which thus haunted the minds of a few -primitive poets among the disinherited classes. And thus, each deep in -his own meditations, the two men went homeward in silence. - -On repairing direct to the laboratory they there found Sœurette quietly -seated at a little table, where she was making a clean copy of one of -her brother's manuscripts. She just raised her head and smiled at him -and his companion, then turned to her task once more. - -'Ah!' said Jordan, throwing himself back in an arm-chair, 'it is quite -certain that my only good time is that which I spend here among my -appliances and papers. As soon as I come back to this laboratory, hope -and peace seem to rise to my heart once more.' - -He glanced affectionately around the spacious room, whose large windows -were open, the glow of the setting sun entering warmly and caressingly, -whilst between the trees one saw the roofs and casements of Beauclair -shining in the distance. - -'How wretched and futile all those disputes are!' Jordan resumed, -whilst Luc softly paced up and down. 'As I listened to the priest and -the schoolmaster after lunch I felt astonished that people could -lose their time in striving to convince one another when they viewed -questions from opposite standpoints, and could not even speak the same -language. Please observe, that they never come here without beginning -precisely the same discussions afresh, and reaching absolutely the -same point as on the previous occasion. And besides, how silly it is -to confine oneself to the absolute, to take no account of experience, -and to fight on simply with contradictory arguments! I am entirely of -the opinion of the doctor, who amuses himself with annihilating both -priest and schoolmaster by merely opposing one to the other! And then, -as regards that fellow Lange, can one imagine a man dreaming of more -ridiculous things--losing himself in more manifest, dangerous errors, -all through bestirring himself chancewise, and disdaining certainties? -No, decidedly, political passions do not suit me; the things which -those people say to one another seem to me devoid of sense, and the -biggest questions which they broach are in my eyes mere pastimes for -amusement on the road. I cannot understand why such vain battles should -be fought over petty incidents, when the discovery of the smallest -scientific truth does more for progress than fifty years of social -struggling!' - -Luc began to laugh. 'You are falling into the absolute yourself,' said -he. 'Man ought to struggle, politics simply represent the necessity -in which he finds himself to defend his needs and ensure himself the -greatest sum of happiness possible.' - -'You are right,' acknowledged Jordan, with his simple good faith. -'Perhaps my disdain for politics merely comes from some covert remorse, -some desire to live in ignorance of the country's political affairs in -order to avoid being disturbed by them. But, sincerely now, I think -that I am still a good citizen in shutting myself up in my laboratory, -for each serves the nation according to his lights. And assuredly -the real revolutionaries, the real men of action, those who do the -most to ensure the advent of truth and justice in the future, are the -scientists. A government passes and falls; a people grows, triumphs, -and then declines; but the truths of science are transmitted from -generation to generation, ever spreading, ever giving increase of light -and certainty. A pause of a century does not count, the forward march -is always resumed at last, and in spite of every obstacle mankind -goes on towards knowledge. The objection that one will never know -everything is ridiculous; the question is to learn as much as we can -in order that we may attain to the greatest happiness possible. And -so, I repeat it, how unimportant are those political jolts on the road -in which nations take such passionate interest. Whilst people set the -salvation of progress in the maintenance or fall of a ministry, it -is really the scientist who determines what the morrow shall be by -illumining the darkness of the multitude with a fresh spark of truth. -All injustice will cease when all truth has been acquired.' - -Silence fell. Sœurette, who had put down her pen, was now listening. -After pondering for a few moments, Jordan, without transition, resumed: -'Work, ah! work, I owe my life to it. You see what a poor, puny little -being I am. I remember that my mother used to wrap me in thick rugs -whenever the wind was at all violent; yet it was she who set me to -work, as to a _régime_, which was certain to bring good health. She -did not condemn me to crushing studies, forms of punishment with which -growing minds are so often tortured. But she instilled into me a habit -of regular, varied, and attractive work. And it was thus that I learnt -to work as one learns to breathe and to walk. Work has become like -the function of my being, the necessary natural play of my limbs and -organs, the object of my life, and the very means that enables me to -live. I have lived because I have worked; some sort of equilibrium has -been arrived at between the world and me; I have given it back in work -what it has brought me in the form of sensations, and I believe that -all health lies therein, that is in well-regulated exchanges, a perfect -adaptation of the organism to its surroundings. And, however slight of -build I may be, I shall live to a good old age, that's certain, since -like a little machine I have been carefully put together and wound up, -and work logically.' - -Luc had paused in his slow perambulation. Like Sœurette he was now -listening with passionate interest. - -'But that is only a question of the life of beings, of the necessity -of good hygiene, if one is to have good life,' continued Jordan. 'Work -is life itself; life is the continual work of chemical and mechanical -forces. Since the first atom stirred to join the atoms near it, the -great creative work has never ceased; and this creative work, which -continues and will always continue, is like the very task of eternity, -the universal task to which we all contribute our store. Is not the -universe an immense workshop, where there is never an 'off day,' -where matter from the simplest ferments to the most perfect creatures -acts, makes, brings forth unceasingly. The fields which become -covered with crops work; the slowly growing forests work; the rivers -streaming through the valleys work; the seas rolling their waves from -one to another continent work; the worlds, carried by the rhythm of -gravitation through the infinite, work. There is not a being, not a -thing that can remain still, in idleness; all find themselves carried -along, set to work, forced to contribute to the common task. Who or -whatever does not work, disappears from that very cause, is thrust -aside as something useless and cumbersome, and has to yield place to -the necessary, indispensable worker. Such is the one law of life, -which, upon the whole, is simply matter working, a force in perpetual -activity tending towards that final work of happiness, an imperious -craving for which we all have within us.' - -For another moment Jordan reflected, his eyes wandering far away. Then -he resumed: 'And what an admirable regulator is work, what orderliness -it brings with it whomever it reigns! It is peace, it is joy, even -as it is health. I am confounded when I see it disdained, vilified, -regarded as chastisement and shame. Whilst saving me from certain -death, it also gave me all that is good in me. And what an admirable -organiser it is, how well it regulates the faculties of the mind, -the play of the muscles, the rôle of each group in a collectivity of -workers. It would of itself suffice as a political constitution, a -human police, a social _raison d'être_. We are born solely for the -sake of the hive: we none of us bring into the world more than our -individual, momentary effort. All other explanations would be vain and -false. Our individual lives appear to be sacrificed to the universal -life of future worlds. No happiness is possible unless we set it in -the solidary happiness of eternal and general toil. And this is why I -should like to see the foundation of the Religion of Work--a hosannah -to work which saves, work in which is to be found the one truth, and -sovereign health, joy, and peace!' - -He ceased speaking and Sœurette raised a cry of loving enthusiasm: 'How -right you are, brother, and how true! how beautiful it is!' - -But Luc seemed more moved even than she. He had remained standing -there, motionless, his eyes gradually filling with light, as if he were -some apostle illumined by a suddenly descending ray. And all at once he -spoke: 'Listen, Jordan, you must not sell your property to Delaveau, -you must keep everything, both the blast-furnace and the mine. That's -my answer, I give it you now because I have quite made up my mind upon -the subject.' - -Surprised by those words, the connection of which with what he had -just said escaped him, the master of La Crêcherie started slightly and -blinked. 'Why so, my dear Luc?' he asked. 'Why do you say that? Explain -yourself.' - -The young man, however, remained silent for a moment, overcome as -he was by emotion. That hymn, that glorification of pacifying and -reorganising work had suddenly raised him, carried him away in spirit, -at last showing him the great horizon, which hitherto had been clouded -in mist. To his eyes everything now acquired precision, grew animated, -assumed absolute certainty. Faith also glowed within him, and his words -came from his lips with extraordinary power of persuasion. - -'You must not sell the property to Delaveau,' he repeated. 'I visited -the abandoned mine to-day. Such as the ore is in the present veins, -one can still derive good profit from it by subjecting it to the new -chemical processes. And Morfain has convinced me that one will find -excellent lodes on the other side of the gorge. There is incalculable -wealth there. The blast-furnace will yield cast iron cheaply, and if it -be completed by a forge, some puddling furnaces, rolling mills, steam -hammers and so forth, one may again begin making rails and girders -in such a way as to compete victoriously with the most prosperous -steel-works of the north and the east.' - -Jordan's surprise was increasing, becoming sheer consternation. 'But -I don't want to get any richer,' he protested; 'I've too much money -already; and if I desire to sell the place it is precisely in order to -escape from all the cares of gain.' - -With a fine, passionate gesture Luc broke in: 'Let me finish, my -friend. It isn't you that I desire to enrich, it is the disinherited -ones, the workers whom we were speaking of just now, the victims of -iniquitous and vilified labour! As you have said, work ought of itself -alone to be a social _raison d'être_. At the moment I heard you, -the path to salvation became manifest to me. The happy community of -to-morrow can only be brought about by such a reorganisation of work as -will lead to an equitable apportionment of wealth, the only solution -by which our misery and sufferings may be dispelled lies in that. If -the old social fabric, now cracking and rotting, is to be replaced by -another it must be upon the basis of work, shared by all and benefiting -all, accepted, indeed, as the universal law. Well, that is what I -should like to attempt here, a reorganisation of work on a small scale, -a brotherly enterprise, a rough draft, as it were, of the social system -of to-morrow, which I should contrast with the other enterprises, those -based upon the wage system, the ancient prisons where workmen are -regarded as slaves and tortured and dishonoured.' - -He went on speaking in quivering accents, outlining his dream, all -that had germinated in his mind since his recent perusal of Fourier's -theories. There ought to be an association between capital, work, and -talent. Jordan would provide the money required, Bonnaire and his mates -would give their arms, and his, Luc's, would be the brain that plans -and directs. Whilst speaking, the young man again began to walk up and -down, pointing vehemently the while towards the neighbouring roofs of -Beauclair. It was Beauclair that he would save, extricate from the -shame and crime in which he had seen it sinking for three days past. -As he gradually unfolded his plan of action he marvelled at himself, -for he had not thought that he had all this in him. But he at last saw -things clearly, he had found his road. And he now replied to all the -distressing questions which he had put to himself during his insomnia -without then finding any answer to them. In particular he now responded -to those appeals from the wretched which had come to him from out of -the darkness. At present he distinctly heard those cries, and he went -forward to succour the poor beings who raised them; he would save -them by regenerated work, by work which would no longer divide men -into inimical, all-devouring castes, but would Unite them in one sole -brotherly family, wherein the efforts of each would be directed to -obtaining the happiness of all. - -'But the application of Fourier's formula,' said Jordan, 'does not -destroy the wage-system. Even among the Collectivists little of that -system is changed excepting the name. To annihilate it, one would have -to go as far as anarchy.' - -Luc was obliged to admit the truth of this objection; and in doing -so he passed his feelings and opinions in review. The theories of -Bonnaire, the Collectivist, and the dreams of Lange, the Anarchist, -still lingered in his ears. The discussions between Abbé Marle, -schoolmaster Hermeline, and Doctor Novarre, also seemed to begin afresh -and continue endlessly. The whole made up a chaos of contrary opinions, -particularly as Luc likewise recalled the objections exchanged by the -precursors of Socialism, Saint-Simon, Auguste Comte, and Proudhon. Why -was it then that amongst so many formulas he himself should choose -those of Fourier? No doubt he was acquainted with a few fortunate -applications of them, but he also knew how slowly attempts progressed, -and what difficulties stood in the way of any decisive result. Perhaps -his choice was due to the fact that revolutionary violence was quite -repugnant to him personally, since he had set his scientific faith in -ceaseless evolution, which has all eternity before it to achieve its -ends. Moreover, a complete and sudden expropriation of present-day -possessors could not be effected without terrible catastrophes which -would increase the present sum of misery and sorrow. Would it not -be best therefore to profit by the opportunity of such a practical -experiment as lay before him, an attempt in which he would find -contentment for his whole being: his own native goodness of heart and -his faith in man's goodness also? He was upbuoyed by some exalted -heroic feeling, a faith, a kind of prescience, which seemed to make -success a certainty. And, besides, even if the application of Fourier's -formulas should not bring about the immediate end of the wage-system, -it would at least be a forward step, it would tend towards the final -victory, the destruction of capital, the disappearance of mere traders, -commercial middle-men, and the annihilation of the power of money, -that source of all evils whose uselessness would be proved. The great -quarrel of the socialist schools is one as to the means which should be -employed. The schools are all agreed as to the object in view, and they -will all be reconciled when some day the happy community is at last -established. It was the first foundations of that community which Luc -desired to lay, by collecting scattered forces, associating men of good -will together, and he was convinced that, given the frightful massacre -now going on, there could be no better point of departure. - -Jordan remained sceptical, however. 'Fourier had flashes of genius,' -said he, 'that is certain. Only he has now been dead more than sixty -years, and if he still retains a few stubborn disciples I see no sign -of his religion conquering the world.' - -'Catholicism took four centuries to conquer a small part of it,' Luc -quickly retorted. 'Besides, I don't adopt the whole of Fourier's views; -I regard him simply as a wise man, to whom one day a vision of the -truth appeared. Moreover, he is not the only one; others helped to -prepare the formula and others will perfect it. One thing which you -cannot deny is that the evolution now proceeding so rapidly dates from -far back. The whole of our century has been given to the laborious -engendering of the new social system which will arise to-morrow. Each -day for a hundred years past the workers have been born a little more -to social life, and to-morrow they will be masters of their destinies -by virtue of that scientific law which ensures life to the strongest, -healthiest, and worthiest. It is all that which we nowadays behold, -the final struggle between the privileged few by whom wealth has been -stolen, and the great toiling masses who wish to recover the possession -of wealth of which they have been despoiled for long centuries. History -teaches us how a few seized on the greatest happiness possible--to -the detriment of all the others; and how since then all the wretched -despoiled ones have never ceased to struggle furiously, eager to -reconquer as much happiness as they could. For the last fifty years -the contest has become merciless, and one now sees the privileged folk -seized with fear, and slowly relinquishing of their own accord certain -of their privileges. The times are approaching, one can feel it by -all the concessions which the holders of land and wealth make to the -people. In the political sphere much has been given it already, and -it will also be necessary to give it much in the economic sphere. One -sees nothing but new laws favouring the workers, humanitarian measures -of all kinds, the triumphs too of associations and unions, and all -announce the coming era. The battle between labour and capital has -reached such an acute crisis that one can already predict the defeat of -the latter. In time, the disappearance of the wage-system is certain. -And this is why I feel convinced that I shall conquer by helping on the -advent of that something else which will replace the wage-system, that -reorganisation of work, which will give us more justice and a loftier -civilisation.' - -He was radiant with benevolence, faith, and hope. And continuing he -went back to history, to the robberies perpetrated by the stronger in -the earliest days of the world, the wretched multitude being reduced -to slavery and the possessors piling crime upon crime in order that -they might not be obliged to restore anything to those who were -despoiled, and who perished by starvation or violence. And he showed -the accumulation of wealth increased by time, and still now in the -hands of a few, who held the country estates, the houses in the towns, -the factories of the industrial centres, the mines where coal and metal -slumber, the means of transport by road, canal, and rail, and then the -Rentes, the gold and the silver, the millions which circulate through -the banks, briefly the whole wealth of earth, all that constitutes the -incalculable fortune of mankind. And was it not abominable that so -much wealth should only lead to the frightful indigence of the greater -number? Did not such a state of things demand justice? Could one not -see the inevitable necessity of proceeding to a fresh apportionment of -wealth? Such iniquity, in which on the one hand one beheld idleness -gorged with possession, and on the other pain-racked labour, agonising -in misery, had made man wolfish towards man. - -Instead of uniting to conquer and domesticate the forces of nature, -men wolfishly devoured one another. Their barbarous social system cast -them to hatred and error and madness; infants and aged beings were -abandoned, and woman was crushed down, to become a beast of burden -for some, and a mere instrument of pleasure for others. The workers -themselves, corrupted by example, accepted their servitude, bending -their heads amidst the universal cowardice. And how frightful, too, was -the waste of human fortune, the colossal sums spent on warfare, and all -the money given to useless functionaries, to judges and to gendarmes! -And then there was all the money which without necessity remained in -the hands of the traders, those parasite intermediaries, whose gains -were levied on the consumers! But, after all, this was only the daily -loss of an illogical, badly constructed social system. Apart from it -there was downright crime, famine deliberately organised by those who -detained the instruments of labour, in order to protect their profits. -They reduced the output of a factory, they imposed off-days upon -miners, they created misery for purposes of economic warfare, in order -to keep up high prices. And yet people were astonished that the machine -should be cracking and collapsing beneath such a pile of suffering, -injustice, and shame! - -'No, no!' cried Luc, 'that cannot last, unless mankind is to disappear -in a final attack of madness. The social compact must be changed, each -man that is born has a right to life, and the earth is the common -fortune of us all. The instruments of work must be restored to all, -each must do his own share of the general labour. If history, with -its hatreds, its wars, its crimes, has hitherto been nothing but the -abominable outcome of original theft, of the tyranny of a few thieves -who had to urge men on to murder one another, and institute law courts -and prisons to defend their deeds of rapine, it is time to begin -history afresh, and to set, at the dawn of the new era, a great act of -equity, the restoration of the wealth of the earth to all men, work -once again becoming the universal law of human society, even as it is -that of the universe, in order that peace may be made among us and -happy brotherliness at last prevail. And that shall be! I will work for -it, and I will succeed!' - -He seemed so passionate, so lofty, so victorious in his prophetic -exaltation, that Jordan, marvelling, turned towards Sœurette to say, -'Just look at him, is he not handsome?' - -Sœurette herself, quivering, pale with admiration, had not taken her -eyes from Luc. It seemed as if a kind of religious fervour possessed -her. 'Oh! he is handsome,' she murmured faintly, 'and he is good as -well.' - -'Only, my dear friend,' resumed Jordan, smiling, 'you are really an -Anarchist, however much you may deem yourself to be an evolutionist. -But you are right in holding that one begins by Fourier's formula, and -ends by the free man in the free commune.' - -Luc himself had begun to laugh. 'At all events,' said he, 'let's make a -start; we shall see whither logic will lead us.' - -Jordan had become thoughtful, however, and no longer seemed to hear -him. He, the cloistered scientist, had been profoundly stirred, and if -he still doubted the possibility of hastening mankind's advance, he no -longer denied the utility of experiment. - -'Individual initiative is no doubt in some respects all-powerful,' he -said. 'To determine facts, one simply needs a man of will and action, -some rebel of genius and free mind who brings the new truth with him. -In cases of accident, when salvation depends on cutting a cable or -splitting a beam, only a man and a hatchet are necessary. Will is -everything, the saviour is he who wields the hatchet. Nothing resists, -mountains collapse and seas retire before an individuality that acts.' - -'Twas that indeed; in those words Luc found an expression of the will -and conviction glowing within him. He knew not yet what genius he -brought with him, but he was pervaded by a strength that seemed to have -been long accumulating, a strength compounded of revolt against all the -injustice of centuries, and an ardent craving to bring justice into -the world at last. His also was the freed mind, he only accepted such -facts as were scientifically proved. He was alone too, he wished to act -alone, he set all his faith in action. He was the man who dares, and -that would be sufficient, his mission would be fulfilled. - -Silence reigned for a moment, and then Jordan, with a friendly gesture -of surrender, said: 'As I have already told you, there are hours of -lassitude when I would give Delaveau the whole property, both the -smeltery and the mine and the land, so as to rid myself of them and -to be able to devote myself in peace to my studies and experiments. -So take them, you--I prefer to give them to you, since you think you -can turn them to good use. All that I ask of you is to deliver me -completely from the burden, to leave me in my corner to work and finish -my task, without ever speaking to me of these affairs again.' - -Luc gazed at him with sparkling eyes, in which all his gratitude, -all his affection, glittered. Then, without any hesitation, like one -certain of the reply he would receive, he said: 'That is not all, -my friend. Your great heart must do something more. I can undertake -nothing without money, I need five hundred thousand francs[1] to -establish the works I dream of, which will be like the foundation of -the future city ... I am convinced that I offer you a good investment, -since your capital will enter into the association, and ensure you a -large part of the profits.' - -And as Jordan wished to interpose, he went on: 'Yes, I know that you -do not desire to become any richer. Nevertheless you must live; and if -you give me your money I shall strive to provide for all your material -wants in such a manner that your peace as a worker shall never be -disturbed.' - -Once more did silence, grave, full of emotion, fall in that spacious -room, where so much work was already germinating for the harvests of -the days to come. The decision that had to be taken was fraught with -such great importance for the future that it set something like a -religious quiver there during that august interval of suspense. - -'Yours is a soul of renunciation and benevolence,' said Luc again. 'Did -you not apprise me of it yesterday when you told me that you would not -trade upon the discoveries you pursue, those electrical furnaces which -will some day reduce human labour and enrich mankind with new wealth? -For my part it is not a gift that I ask of you, it is brotherly help, -help to enable me to lessen the injustice of the times and create some -happiness in the world.' - -Then, in very simple fashion, Jordan consented. 'I'm willing, my -friend,' he said. 'You shall have the money to realise your dream. -Only, as one never ought to tell a falsehood, I will add that, in my -eyes, that dream is still only so much generous utopia, for you have -not fully convinced me. Excuse the doubts of a scientist.... But no -matter, you are a good fellow; make your attempt--I will be with you!' - -Luc, whom enthusiasm seemed to raise from the ground, gave a cry of -triumph: 'Thanks! I tell you that the work is as good as done, and that -we shall know the divine joy of having accomplished it! - -Sœurette hitherto had not intervened--she had not even stirred. But -all the kindliness of her heart had made itself manifest in her face, -big tears of tender emotion filled her eyes. All at once, under some -irresistible impulse, she rose, drew near to Luc, silent, distracted, -and kissed him on the face, her tears gushing forth as she did so. -Then, in her wondrous emotion, she flung herself into her brother's -arms, and long remained sobbing there. - -Slightly surprised by the kiss she had given the young man, Jordan -anxiously inquired: 'What is the matter, little sister? At least you -don't disapprove of what is proposed, do you? It is true that we ought -to have consulted you. But there is still time--are you with us?' - -'Oh, yes! oh, yes!' she stammered, smiling, suddenly radiant amidst her -tears; 'you are two heroes, and I will serve you--dispose of me.' - -Late on the evening of that same day, towards eleven o'clock, Luc -leant out of the window of the little pavilion, as on the previous -night, in order to inhale for a moment the calm fresh air. In front -of him, beyond the uncultivated fields strewn with rocks, Beauclair -was falling asleep, extinguishing its lights one by one; whilst on the -left the Abyss resounded with all the noise of its hammers. Never had -the breathing of the pain-racked giant seemed to Luc more hoarse, more -oppressed. But again, as on the previous night, a sound arose from -across the road, so light a sound that he fancied it was caused by -the beating wings of some night-bird. His heart suddenly palpitated, -however, when he heard the sound afresh, for he recognised a gentle -quiver of approach. And again he saw a vague, delicate, and slender -form which seemed to float over the grass. Then, with the spring of a -wild goat, a woman crossed the road, and threw him a little bouquet so -skilfully that he once more received it on his lips like a caress. As -on the previous night, too, it was a little bunch of mountain pansies, -gathered just then among the rocks, and of such powerful aroma that he -was quite perfumed by it. - -'Oh, Josine, Josine!' he exclaimed, penetrated by infinite tenderness. - -She it was who had returned, and who, naïve, simple like those very -flowers, once again gave him her whole soul, ever with the same gesture -of passionate gratitude. And he felt refreshed, revived, amidst all -the physical and mental fatigue following upon so decisive a day. Were -not those flowers already a reward for his first efforts, for his -resolution to proceed to action? And it was in her, Josine, that he -loved the suffering toilers, it was she whom he wished to save from -monstrous fate. He had found her the most wretched, the most insulted -and derided, so near to debasement that she was on the point of falling -into the gutter. With her poor hand mutilated by work, she typified -the whole race of the victims, the slaves, who gave their flesh for -work or for pleasure. When he should have redeemed her, he would have -redeemed the entire race. And she, too, was love, love that is needful -for harmony, for the happiness of the city of the future. - -He gently called her: 'Josine! Josine! It is you, Josine!' But without -a word she was already fleeing, disappearing into the darkness of the -uncultivated moor. Then he again called her: 'Josine! Josine! It is -you, I know it, Josine; I want to speak to you!' - -Thereupon, trembling but happy, she came back with the same light step, -and paused on the road below the window. 'Yes, it is I, Monsieur Luc,' -she murmured. - -He did not hasten to speak, however--he was trying to see her better, -so slim, so vague she was, like some vision which a wave of darkness -would soon carry away. At last he spoke: 'Will you do me a service? -Tell Bonnaire to come to speak with me to-morrow morning. I have some -good news for him--I have found him some work.' - -She showed her pleasure by a laugh, tinged with emotion, and so faint -and musical that it recalled the warbling of a bird. 'Ah! you are kind! -you are kind!' she murmured. - -'And,' continued he in a lower voice, for he, likewise, was feeling -moved, 'I shall have work for all who wish to work. Yes, I am going to -try to provide a little justice and happiness for everybody.' - -She must have understood him, for her laugh became yet more gentle, -more expressive of passionate gratitude. 'Thank you, thank you, -Monsieur Luc!' Then the vision began to fade, and Luc again saw the -light shadow fleeing through the bushes, accompanied by another and -smaller one, Nanet, whom he had not previously seen, but who was now -bounding along beside his big sister. - -'Josine! Josine! _Au revoir_, Josine!' - -'Thank you, Monsieur Luc!' - -He could no longer distinguish her, she had disappeared, but he still -heard her expressions of gratitude and joy, that bird-like warble which -the night breeze wafted to him; and it was instinct with an infinite -charm which penetrated and enchanted his heart. - -For a long time did he linger at the window, full of rapture and -boundless hope. Between the Abyss, where accursed toil was panting, -and La Guerdache, whose park formed a great black patch upon the -low plain of La Roumagne, he perceived Old Beauclair, the workers' -dwelling-place, with its shaky rotting hovels slumbering beneath the -crushing weight of misery and suffering. There lay the cloaca which -he wished to purify, the antique gaol of the wage-system, which must -be razed to the ground with all its hateful iniquity and cruelty, in -order that mankind might be cured of the effects of the long efforts to -poison it. And on the same spot he was, in imagination, already raising -the future city, the abode of truth, justice, and happiness, whose -white houses he could already picture smiling freely and fraternally -amongst delicate verdure, under a mighty sun of joy. - -But, all at once, the whole horizon was illumined, a great pink -glow lighted up the roofs of Beauclair, the promontory of the Bleuse -Mountains, the entire stretch of country. It was the glow of liquid -metal running from the furnace of La Crêcherie, and Luc had, at first, -taken it for the dawn. But it was not dawn, it symbolised rather the -setting of a planet--old Vulcan, tortured at his anvil, throwing forth -his final flames. Work, hereafter, would no longer be aught than health -and joy, to-morrow was coming fast. - - -[1] 20,000_l_. - - - - -BOOK II - - - -I - - -There years went by, and Luc established his new factory, which gave -birth to a whole town of workers. The land which lay below the ridge -of the Bleuse Mountains extended over a space of some twelve hundred -square yards, a great moor, which, sloping slightly, stretched from -the park of La Crêcherie to the jumbled buildings of the Abyss. And -the beginnings were necessarily modest, only a part of the moor was at -first utilised, the rest being reserved for the extensions which it was -hoped the future would justify. - -The works stood against the rocky promontory, just below the -blast-furnace, with which they communicated by two lifts. Pending -the revolution which Jordan's electrical furnaces would effect, Luc -had done little to the smeltery; he had improved it in a few matters -of detail, and then left it in Morfain's hands to continue working -according to old-time routine. But in the new works, both as regards -the buildings and the plant, he had availed himself of all possible -improvements in order to increase the output and diminish the labour -of the workers. In a like spirit he desired that the houses of the -workers, each of which stood in a garden, should be homes of comfort -where family life might flourish. Some fifty were already built on the -land near La Crêcherie, forming quite a little town advancing towards -Beauclair. The building of each new house, indeed, was like a fresh -step taken by the future city towards the conquest of the old, guilty -and condemned one. Then, in the centre of the land, Luc had erected the -common-house, a large building containing schools, a library, a hall -for meetings and festivities, baths and so forth. This was all that he -had retained of Fourier's phalanstery, leaving everybody free to build -as he pleased, and only deeming collective action to be necessary for -certain public services. Finally, in the rear of the property some -general stores had been established, and grew daily in importance. -There was a bakery, a butcher's, a grocery department, not to mention -others for clothes, utensils, all sorts of small indispensable -articles, the whole being conducted on the principles of a cooperative -society of consumers corresponding with the cooperative society of -producers which controlled the works. All this, no doubt, was simply -a beginning, but there was no dearth of life, and one could already -see and judge the work. Luc would not have succeeded in making such -rapid progress had not the happy thought occurred to him of interesting -workmen of the building trades in the enterprise. One thing, too, which -particularly delighted him was that he had managed to capture all the -springs scattered among the higher rocks, for they yielded an abundance -of fresh and pure water, which cleansed the works and the common-house, -gave moisture to the gardens, where thick greenery arose, and brought -health and delight to every home. - -Now, one morning, Fauchard, the drawer at the Abyss, came strolling up -to La Crêcherie to see some of his old mates. He, ever undecided and -doleful, had remained under Delaveau, whereas Bonnaire had repaired -to the new works, taking with him his brother-in-law Ragu, who in his -turn had induced Bourron to follow. Those three then worked with Luc, -and Fauchard wished to question them. In the state of hebetude to which -fifteen years of labour, ever the same, ever a repetition of similar -gestures amidst a similar glare, had reduced him, he felt incapable -of arriving at any decision by himself. Such, indeed, had become his -indolence of mind, that for long months he had been thinking of this -visit without finding sufficient strength of will to make it. From the -moment of entering the works of La Crêcherie he felt astonished. - -Coming as he did from the grimy, dusty Abyss, into whose heavy, -tumbledown halls the light scarcely entered, he marvelled, in the first -instance, at the sight of the light airy halls of La Crêcherie, all -brick and iron, through whose broad windows the sunshine streamed. -All the workshops were paved with slabs of cement, in such wise that -there was little dust; and the abundance of water facilitated frequent -washings. Moreover, the place remained clean and was easily kept in -such a condition, by reason of the new smoke-consuming apparatus with -which all the fires were provided. Thus, in lieu of an infernal, -cyclopean den there were bright, shiny, spacious workshops in which -toil seemed to lose much of its harshness. No doubt the employment of -electricity was still very limited; there was still a deafening roar -of machinery, and but little relief had been found for human efforts. -Only among some of the furnaces had there been trials of mechanical -appliances, which, although hitherto defective, encouraged the hope -that man would some day be freed from excessive labour. At La Crêcherie -they were feeling their way, so to say; and yet how great was the -improvement which already resulted from cleanliness, air, and sunlight! - -Fauchard had expected to find Bonnaire, the master-puddler, at his -furnace, and was surprised to come upon him watching over a large -rolling-machine for the making of rails. - -'Hallo!' exclaimed the visitor, 'have you given up puddling then?' - -'No,' Bonnaire replied, 'but we do a little bit of everything here. -That's the rule of the place: two hours on one thing, two hours on -another; and really, it's quite true that it rests one.' - -As a matter of fact Luc did not easily induce the men whom he took on -to quit whatever might be their specialty. Later, however, reforms -would be realised, for the children were already passing through -several apprenticeships, since work could only be made attractive by -varying it, and giving but a few hours to any one particular form. - -'Ah!' sighed Fauchard, 'wouldn't it just amuse me to do something else -than draw crucibles out of my furnace! But then I can't, I don't know -how!' - -The noise made by the rolling-machinery was so violent that he had -to raise his voice to its highest pitch. At last he profited by a -brief interval to shake hands with Ragu and Bourron, who were busily -engaged in receiving the rails. All this again was quite a sight for -Fauchard. The rails were not made in the same way as at the Abyss. He -looked at them with confused thoughts, which he could not have put -into words. That which more particularly made him suffer amidst his -downfall, reduced as he was to the status of a mere tool, was the dim -consciousness that he might have been a man of intelligence and will. -It was indeed so sad to think what a free, healthy, joyful man he might -have become if slavery had not cast him into that brutifying gaol, the -Abyss! The rails, which ever grew longer before his eyes, seemed to -him like an endless railroad over which his thoughts glided away into -the future, of which he had neither hope nor clear conception. - -Under the hall adjacent to the great foundry the steel was melted in a -special furnace, and the fusing metal was received in a large cast-iron -pocket lined with refractory clay, which afterwards discharged it -into moulds. Electrical rolling bridges, powerful cranes, raised and -transported the heavy masses, brought them to the rolling-machines, and -conveyed them to the riveting and bolting workshops. There were various -sorts of rolling-presses, some of them gigantic, one for large pieces -of steel required for bridges, for the frameworks of buildings and so -forth; and others for such simple things as girders and rails whose -dimensions did not vary. These were made with extraordinary speed and -regularity. The steel billet, as dazzling as the sun, but short, and -as thick as a man's trunk, was caught in the first cage between two -rollers revolving inversely, and when it came forth from the throat -it was already more slender. But it entered a second cage and came -forth more slender still, and thus from cage to cage it was gradually -shaped, till it at last assumed the correct outline and the regulation -length of ten mètres. All this, however, was not accomplished without a -deafening uproar, a terrible noise of jaws between the cages, something -akin to the mastication of a colossus, whom one could imagine munching -all that steel. And rails succeeded rails with extraordinary rapidity; -you could scarcely follow the billet as it grew thinner and longer, and -sprang out at last as a rail, to be added to others and others, as if -indeed railways were extending endlessly, penetrating into the depths -of the least known lands, and girdling the whole earth. - -'Who's all that for?' asked Fauchard in his bewilderment. - -'For the Chinese!' answered Ragu by way of a joke. - -But Luc was now passing the rolling-mills. He generally spent his -mornings in the works, glancing into each hall and chatting like a -mate with the men. He had been compelled to retain part of the old -hierarchy, master workmen, foremen, engineers, and an office staff for -account-keeping and commercial management. Nevertheless, he already -effected considerable economy by constant care in reducing the number -of managers and clerks. On the other hand, his immediate hopes had been -realised. Although high-class lodes like those of former times had not -yet been found in the mine, the ore now extracted yielded by chemical -treatment cheap iron of fair quality; in such wise that the manufacture -of girders and rails, being sufficiently remunerative, ensured the -prosperity of the works. They paid their way, the amount of business -increased each year, and this was the important point for Luc, whose -efforts were directed towards the future of the enterprise, convinced -as he was that he should conquer if, at each division of profits, the -workmen saw their comfort and happiness increase. None the less his -daily life was full of alarms amidst that complicated creation of his; -there were considerable advances to make, an entire little army to -lead, and worries assailed him both as a reformer, as an engineer, and -as a financier. Success seemed certain, yet he fully understood that -the enterprise was still in a precarious stage, at the mercy of events. - -Amidst the uproar, he only paused for a moment to smile at Bonnaire, -Ragu, and Bourron, and he did not even notice Fauchard. He liked that -hall where the rolling-machinery was installed, he was cheered by -the sight of all the girders and rails made there; it was the good -forge of peace, he sometimes exclaimed gaily. And he contrasted it -with the evil forge of war--that neighbouring forge, the Abyss, where -guns and projectiles were made at such great cost, and with so much -care. To think of it! Such perfect appliances, metal worked with so -much delicacy and skill, and all that simply to produce monstrous -engines of warfare which cost nations millions upon millions, and -ruined them whilst they waited for war, when indeed war did not arise -to exterminate them. Ah! might the steel girders and frameworks be -multiplied, might they build up useful edifices and happy cities, -bridges to cross rivers and valleys, might rails for ever gush from -the presses and form endless lines to abolish frontiers, bring nations -together, and win the whole world over to the brotherly civilisation of -to-morrow! - -However, just as Luc passed into the large foundry where the great -steam-hammer began to pound away, forging the armature of a gigantic -bridge, the rolling-machinery was suddenly stopped, and an interval -ensued pending the starting of another section. Fauchard then drew -nearer to his old mates, and some conversation ensued between them. - -'So things are going all right here; you are satisfied, eh?' he -inquired. - -'Satisfied, no doubt,' Bonnaire replied. 'The working day is only one -of eight hours, and as what one does is diversified, one doesn't get so -tired as formerly, and the work seems pleasanter.' - -He, so tall and strong, with his broad, good-natured, healthy face, was -one of the chief mainstays of the new works. He belonged to the council -of management, and felt very grateful to Luc for having taken him on -at the moment when he had been obliged to quit the Abyss, and could -not think of the morrow without apprehension. With his uncompromising -Collectivist principles, however, he suffered at seeing La Crêcherie -governed by a _régime_ of mere association, in which capital retained -its great influence. The revolutionary within him, the dreamer of the -absolute, protested against such a thing. But at the same time he was -sensible, he worked, and urged his mates to work with all devotion, -until they should be able to judge the result of the experiment. - -'And so,' resumed Fauchard, 'you earn a lot of money, double what you -used to, eh?' - -Ragu, with that evil laugh of his, began to jest: 'Oh! the double, -indeed! Say a hundred francs a day, without counting the champagne and -the cigars!' - -He had simply followed Bonnaire's example in taking work at La -Crêcherie. And though he did not find himself badly off, thanks to the -relative comfort he enjoyed there, on the other hand the orderliness -and preciseness of everything could scarcely be to his taste, for he -was again becoming a railer, turning his happiness into derision. - -'A hundred francs!' cried Fauchard in stupefaction. 'You earn a hundred -francs, you do?' - -Bourron, who still remained Ragu's shadow, then tried to improve on -what his mate had said: 'Oh! a hundred francs just to begin with!' said -he. 'And one is treated to the roundabouts on Sundays.' - -But whilst the others sneered, Bonnaire shrugged his shoulders with -disdainful gravity. 'Can't you see,' he exclaimed, 'that they are -talking folly and making fun of you? Everything considered, after the -division of the profits our daily earnings do not amount to much more -than they did formerly. Only at each settlement they increase a little, -and it's certain that they will some day become superb. Then, too, we -have all sorts of advantages, our future is assured, and living costs -us much less than formerly, thanks to our co-operative stores and the -gay little houses which are let to us almost for nothing. Certainly -this isn't yet real justice, but all the same we are on the road to it.' - -Ragu continued sneering, and a desire came to him to satisfy another -hatred, for if he jested about La Crêcherie, he never spoke of the -Abyss otherwise than with ferocious rancour. - -'And what kind of face does that animal Delaveau pull nowadays?' he -inquired. 'It amuses me to think that he must be quite wild at having -another show erected close to his own, and one too that seems likely to -do good business. He's in a rage, isn't he?' - -Fauchard waved his arm vaguely and replied: 'Of course he must be in a -rage, only he doesn't show it over much. And yet I really don't know, -because I've enough worries of my own without troubling about those -of other people. I've heard say that he doesn't care a fig about your -works and the competition. He says, it seems, that cannons and shells -will always be wanted, because men are fools and will always go on -murdering one another.' - -Luc, who was just then returning from the foundry, heard those last -words. For three years past, since the day when he had prevailed on -Jordan to keep the blast-furnace and establish forges and steel-works, -he had known that he had an enemy in Delaveau. The blow had been a -severe one for the latter, who had hoped to acquire La Crêcherie for -a comparatively small sum payable over a term of years, and who in -lieu thereof saw it pass into the hands of an audacious young man, -full of intelligence and activity, possessed of such creative vigour -that at the very outset of his operations he raised the nucleus of a -town. Nevertheless after the anger born of his first shock of surprise, -Delaveau had felt full of confidence. He would confine himself to the -manufacture of ordnance and projectiles, in which line the profits were -large ones, and in which he feared no competition. The announcement -that the neighbouring works would resume the making of rails and -girders had at first filled him with merriment, ignorant as he was that -the mine would be worked afresh. Then, on understanding the situation, -realising that large profits might be made by treating the defective -ore chemically, he did not lose his temper, but declared to everybody -that there was room for all enterprises, and that he would willingly -leave the making of rails and girders to his fortunate neighbour if -the latter left him that of guns and shells. In appearance, then, peace -was not disturbed, cold but polite intercourse was kept up. But in -the depths of Delaveau's mind lurked covert anxiety, a fear of that -centre of just and free work, so near to him, for in time its spirit -might gain upon his own workshops and men. And there was yet other -uneasiness on his part, an unacknowledged feeling that old scaffoldings -were gradually cracking under him, that there were causes of rottenness -which he could not control, and that on the day when the power of -capital might fail him, his arms, however stubborn and vigorous they -might be, would prove powerless to keep up the edifice, which would -fall in its entirety to the ground. - -In the inevitable and ever fiercer warfare which had begun between La -Crêcherie and the Abyss, and which could only end by the downfall of -one or the other of the works, Luc felt no pity for the Delaveaus. If -he had some esteem for the man on seeing how energetically he worked, -and how bravely he defended his opinions, he despised the woman, -Fernande, though with his contempt there was mingled a kind of terror -on divining in her a terrible force of corruption and destruction. That -evil intrigue which he had detected at La Guerdache, the imperious -subjugation of Boisgelin, that dull-witted coxcomb whose fortune was -melting away in the hands of a devouring creature, filled him with -growing anxiety, as if he foresaw in it some future tragedy. All his -affection went out towards the good-hearted and gentle Suzanne, for -she was the real victim, the only one worthy of his pity. He had been -compelled to break off all intercourse with La Guerdache, and his -only knowledge of what went on there was derived from chance reports. -These indicated, however, that things were going from bad to worse, -Fernande's wild demands increasing, whilst Suzanne only found energy to -remain silent, closing her eyes for fear of some scandal. One day when -Luc met her, holding her little boy Paul by the hand, in one of the -streets of Beauclair, she gave him a long look in which he could read -all her distress, and the friendship that she still retained for him in -spite of the deadly struggle which now parted their lives. - -As soon as Luc recognised Fauchard, he put himself on the defensive, -for it was part of his plan to avoid all unnecessary conflicts with -the Abyss. He was willing that men should come from the neighbouring -works to offer their services, but he did not wish it to be said that -he tried to attract them. As a matter of fact, it was the workers of -La Crêcherie who decided whether a new hand should be admitted or not. -Accordingly, as Bonnaire had on various previous occasions spoken to -him of Fauchard, Luc feigned a belief that the latter was trying to -gain admittance from his former comrades. 'Ah! it's you, my friend,' -said he; 'you've come to see if your old mates will make room for you, -eh?' - -The other, once more full of doubt, incapable of prompt resolution, -began to stammer disjointed words. All novelty frightened him, -accustomed as he was to blind routine. Those new works, those large, -light, clean halls, filled him with emotion as if they formed part of -some awesome place where it would be impossible for him to live. He -was already eager to return to his black and pain-fraught _inferno_. -Ragu had derided him. What was the good of changing, when nothing was -certain? Besides, he dimly realised, perhaps, that it was too late for -him to make a change. - -'No, no, monsieur, not yet,' he stuttered; 'I should like to, but I -don't know. I'll see a little later--I'll consult my wife.' - -Luc smiled. 'Quite so, quite so--one has to please the women. _Au -revoir_, my friend.' - -Then Fauchard went off in an awkward way, astonished at the turn that -his visit had taken, for he had certainly made it with the intention -of asking for work, if he found the place to his liking, and one could -earn more money there than at the Abyss. - -For a moment Luc remained speaking to Bonnaire about some improvements -which he wished to introduce into the rolling-machinery. But Ragu had -a complaint to make. 'Monsieur Luc,' said he, 'a gust of wind has -broken three more panes in the window of our bed-room. And I must warn -you that this time we really won't pay. It all comes from our house -being the first in the line of the wind that comes from the plain. One -freezes in it.' - -He was always complaining, always finding reasons for discontent. -'Besides, it's very simple, Monsieur Luc,' he added, 'you've only got -to call at our house to see how it happens. Josine will show you.' - -Since Ragu had been working at La Crêcherie Sœurette had prevailed on -him to marry Josine; and thus they lived together in one of the little -houses of the new town of workers, a house which stood between those -of Bonnaire and Bourron, As Ragu had considerably amended his ways, -thanks to his new surroundings, there did not as yet seem to be any -serious disagreement in his home. Only a few quarrels had broken out, -caused chiefly by the presence of Nanet, who also lived in the house. -Moreover, whenever Josine was sorrowful and inclined to shed tears, she -carefully closed the window in order that her neighbours might not hear -her weeping. - -But a shadow had passed over Luc's brow. 'Very well, Ragu,' he simply -said, 'I will call at your house.' - -Then the conversation ceased, the machinery had begun to work once -more, drowning the voices of one and all with a tremendous noise, -which suggested the mastication of a giant. For another moment Luc -watched the work, smiling at Bonnaire, encouraging Bourron and Ragu, -striving to promote brotherly love among each gang of workers, for -he was convinced that nothing can prove substantial and effective if -love be lacking. At last he quitted the workshops, and repaired to the -common-house, as he did each morning, in order to visit the schools. -If it pleased him to linger in the halls of work, dreaming of future -peace, he tasted the delight of a yet keener hope among the little -world of children, by whom the future was personified. - -The common-house, naturally enough, was as yet only a large, clean, gay -building, in erecting which Luc had aimed at little beyond making the -place as commodious as possible at a small cost. The schools occupied -one wing of it, the library, recreation-hall, and baths being installed -in the other one, whilst the meeting and festival-hall, together with -various offices, occupied the central pile. The schools were divided -into three distinct sections, first a kind of infant asylum, where -mothers following various avocations could place their little ones, -even when these were mere babes in swaddling clothes; secondly a -school proper, comprising five divisions, in which a complete system -of education was in force; and thirdly a series of workshops for -apprentices. The pupils frequented the latter even whilst following -their studies, acquiring familiarity with manual callings as their -general knowledge developed. And the sexes were not separated, boys -and girls grew up side by side, from the cradle to the workshop of -apprenticeship, which they quitted in order to marry, passing meantime -through the five classes of the school, where they sat side by side -on the forms, mingling there as they were bound to mingle in after -life. To separate the sexes from infancy, to bring up boys and girls -and educate them differently, one in ignorance of the other, does not -this render them inimical, and does it not tend to pervert them by -heightening the mystery of the laws of natural attraction? Peace will -only be complete between the sexes on the common interest which ought -to unite them becoming apparent to both, reared as comrades, knowing -one another, deriving their knowledge of life from the same source, and -setting forth on its road in order to live it logically and healthily -even as it ought to be lived. - -Sœurette had greatly aided Luc in organising the schools. Whilst -Jordan, after giving the money he had promised, had shut himself up -in his laboratory, refusing to examine accounts, or to discuss what -measures should be adopted, his sister had begun to take a passionate -interest in that new town which she saw germinating, rising before her -eyes. The feelings of a teacher and a nurse had always been latent -within her, and her benevolence, which hitherto had been unable to -go beyond a few poor folk pointed out to her by Abbé Marle, Doctor -Novarre, or Hermeline the schoolmaster, suddenly expanded in presence -of Luc's large family of workers, who needed to be taught and guided -and loved. She had at the outset chosen her special task; she did -not refuse to help in organising the classes and the workshops for -the apprentices, but she more particularly devoted herself to the -infant-asylum, where she spent her mornings, satisfying her love for -the little ones. One day, when it was suggested that she ought to marry -she replied with some slight confusion and a pretty laugh: 'But haven't -I all the children of others to look after?' - -She had ended by finding an assistant in Josine, who, although now -married to Ragu, remained childless. Each morning Sœurette employed her -among the infants; and drawn together as they were by solicitude for -the little ones, they had become good friends, however different in -other respects might be the bent of their natures. - -That morning, when Luc entered the white cool ward, he found Sœurette -alone there. 'Josine hasn't been,' she explained; 'she sent word that -she was not feeling well. Oh! it's merely a trifling indisposition, I -believe.' - -To Luc, however, there came a vague suspicion, and a shadow again -darkened his glance. 'I have to call at her house--I will see if she -needs anything,' he simply replied. - -Then came the delightful visit to the cradles. They stood all white -alongside the white walls. Little pink faces lay smiling or sleeping -in them. And there were some willing women with large dazzling aprons, -soft eyes, and motherly hands, who, speaking gentle words, watched over -all those little ones, those germs of humanity in whom the future was -rising. Some of the children, however, were growing fast--there were -little men and little women of three and four years of age, and these -were at liberty, toddling or running about on their little legs without -encountering too many falls. The ward opened on to a flowery verandah, -whence a garden extended, and the whole troop disported itself in -sunshine and warm air. Toys, such as jumping jacks, hung down from -strings to amuse the smallest, whilst the others had dolls, or horses, -or carts, which they dragged about noisily like future heroes in whom -the need of action was awaking. And it warmed the heart to see those -young folk growing thus gaily, and in comfort, for all the tasks of -to-morrow. - -'Nobody ill?' asked Luc, who lingered with delight amidst all the -dawn-like whiteness. - -'Oh no! they are all lively this morning,' Sœurette replied. 'We had -two children taken with the measles the day before yesterday. But I did -not receive them afterwards--they have been isolated.' - -She and Luc had now gone out to the verandah, along which they went to -visit the adjoining school. The glazed doors of the five class-rooms -followed one after the other, allowing a view over the greenery of the -garden, and the weather being warm these doors were at that moment wide -open, in such wise that Luc and Sœurette were able to glance into each -room without entering. - -Since the establishment of the school the masters had arranged quite -a new programme of education. From the first class, in which they -took the child before he could even read, to the fifth, in which they -parted from him, after teaching him the elements of general knowledge -necessary to life, they particularly strove to place him in presence -of things and facts, in order that he might derive his learning from -the realities of the world. They also sought to awaken a spirit of -orderliness and method in each child; for without method there can -be no useful work. It is method which classifies and enables one to -go on learning without losing aught of the knowledge one has already -acquired. The science of books was not condemned in the school at La -Crêcherie, but it was put back to its rightful secondary place, for a -child only learns well such things as he sees, touches, or understands -by himself. He was no longer bent like a slave over indisputable -dogmas; his masters appealed to his initiative to discover, penetrate, -and make the truth his own. By this system the individual energy of -each pupil was awakened and stimulated. In like manner punishments and -rewards had been abolished, no further recourse was had to threats or -caresses to force idle lads to work. As a matter of fact there are no -idlers, there are only ailing children, children who understand badly -what is badly explained to them, children into whose brains obstinate -attempts are made to force knowledge for which they are not prepared. -This being so, in order to have good pupils at La Crêcherie it was -found sufficient to utilise the immense craving for knowledge which -glows within each human being, that inextinguishable curiosity of the -child for all that surrounds him, a curiosity so great that he never -ceases to weary people with questions. Thus learning ceased to be -torture; it became a constant pleasure by being rendered attractive, -the master contenting himself with arousing the child's intelligence, -and then simply guiding it in its discoveries. Each has the right and -the duty to develop himself. And self-development is necessary if one -wishes a child to become a real man of active energy, with will-power -to decide and direct. - -Thus the five classes spread out, offering from the very first notions -to the acquirement of all the scientific truths, a means for the -logical, graduated emancipation of the intelligence. In the garden -gymnastic appliances were installed, there were games, exercises of -all kinds, in order that the body might be fortified, provided with -health and strength whilst the brain developed and enriched itself -with learning. In the first classes especially, a great deal of time -was allowed for play and recreation. At the outset only short and -varied studies, proportionate to the child's powers of endurance, were -required. The rule was to confine the children within doors as little -as possible: lessons were frequently given in the open air; walks were -arranged and the pupils were taught amidst the things on which their -lessons turned, now in workshops, now in presence of the phenomena -of nature, among animals and plants, or beside watercourses and -mountains. Then, too, efforts were made to give the children a notion -of what mankind really was, and of the necessity for solidarity. They -were growing up side by side, they would always live side by side. -Love alone was the bond of union, justice and happiness. In love was -found the indispensable and all-sufficient social compact, for it was -sufficient for men to love one another to ensure the reign of peace. -That universal love which will spread in time from the family to the -nation, and from the nation to all mankind, will be the sole law of -the happy community of the future. It was developed among the children -at La Crêcherie by interesting them in one another, the strong being -taught to watch over the weak, and all giving rein to their studies, -diversions, and budding passions in common. From all this would arise -the awaited harvest--men fortified by bodily exercise, instructed in -experience amidst nature, drawn together by brain and heart, and in -this wise becoming true brothers. - -However, some laughter and some shouts suddenly arose, and Luc felt a -little anxious, for at times things did not pass off without disorder. -In the middle of one of the class-rooms he perceived Nanet standing up. -It was he, no doubt, who had caused the tumult. - -'Does Nanet still give you trouble?' he asked Sœurette. 'He's a little -demon, I fear.' - -She smiled and made a gesture of indulgent excuse. 'Yes, he is not -always easily managed,' she said. 'And we have others too who are very -turbulent. They push and fight one another, and show little obedience. -But all the same they are dear little fellows. Nanet is very brave and -good-natured. Besides, when they keep over-quiet we feel anxious, we -imagine that they must be ill.' - -After the class-rooms, beyond the garden, came the workshops for the -apprentices. Instruction was given there in the principal manual -callings, which the children practised less in order to acquire them -perfectly, than to form an acquaintance with their _ensemble_ and -determine their own vocations. This teaching went on concurrently with -the other studies. Whilst a child was acquiring the first notions -of reading and writing, a tool was already placed in his hand; and -if during the morning he studied grammar, arithmetic, and history, -thereby ripening his intelligence, in the afternoon he worked with his -little arms in order to impart vigour and skill to his muscles. This -was like useful recreation, rest for the brain, a joyous competition -in activity. The principle was adopted that every man ought to know a -manual calling, in such wise that each pupil on leaving the school -simply had to choose the calling he himself preferred, and perfect -himself in it in a real workshop. In like manner beauty flourished; -the children passed through courses of music, drawing, painting, and -sculpture, and in souls that were well awakened the joys of existence -were then born. Even for those who had to confine themselves to the -first elements such studies tended to an enlargement of the world, -the whole earth taking a voice, and splendour in one or another form -embellishing the humblest lives. And in the garden, at the close of -fine days, amidst radiant sunsets, the children were gathered together -to sing songs of peace and glory, or to be braced by spectacles of -truth and immortal beauty. - -Luc was finishing his daily visit when he was informed that two -peasants of Les Combettes, Lenfant and Yvonnot, were waiting to speak -to him in the little office opening into the large meeting-hall. - -'Have they come about the stream?' asked Sœurette. - -'Yes,' he replied, 'they asked me to fix an appointment. And for my -part I greatly desired to see them, for I was talking again to Feuillat -only the other day, and I am convinced that an understanding is -necessary between La Crêcherie and Les Combettes if we desire to win -the day.' - -She listened to him smiling, like one who knew all his plans; and after -pressing his hand she returned with her discreet, quiet step to her -white cradles, whence would arise the future people that he needed for -the fulfilment of his dream. - -Feuillat, the farmer of La Guerdache, had ended by renewing his lease -with Boisgelin under disastrous conditions for both parties. But it was -necessary to live, as Feuillat said; and the farming system had become -so defective that it could no longer yield any good results. It was -leading, indeed, to the very bankruptcy of the soil. And so Feuillat, -like the stubborn man he was, haunted by an idea which he imparted to -nobody, covertly continued urging on certain experimental work which he -desired to see tried near his farm. That is, the reconciliation of the -peasants of Les Combettes, whom ancient hatreds parted, the gathering -together in a commonalty of all their patches of land, now cut up into -little strips, and the creation of one great estate, whence they would -derive real wealth by applying the principles of high cultivation on -a large scale. And the idea which Feuillat kept back in the depths -of his mind most have been that of persuading Boisgelin to let the -farm enter the new association, when the first experiments should have -succeeded. If Boisgelin should refuse, facts would end by compelling -him to consent. In Feuillat moreover, silent man that he was, bending -beneath such servitude as appeared inevitable, there was something -of the nature of a patient, crafty apostle, who was resolved to gain -ground by degrees, undeterred therefrom by any feeling of weariness. - -He had just achieved a first success by reconciling Lenfant and -Yvonnot, whose families had been quarrelling for centuries. The former -having been chosen mayor of the village and the latter 'adjoint,' -or deputy mayor, he had given them to understand that they would -be the real masters if they could only agree together. Then he had -slowly won them to his idea of a general agreement, by which alone -the village could emerge from the wretchedness born of routine in -which it vegetated, and once more find in the earth an inexhaustible -source of fortune. As the works of La Crêcherie were at that time -being established, he cited them as an example, spoke of their growing -prosperity, and profiting by some water question which had to be -settled between La Crêcherie and Les Combettes, he even ended by -putting Lenfant and Yvonnot in communication with Luc. Thus it was that -the village mayor and his deputy happened, that morning, to be at the -works. - -Luc immediately consented to what they came to ask him, and the good -nature he evinced in doing so in some degree dispelled their habitual -distrust. - -'It's understood, messieurs,' said he, 'La Crêcherie will henceforth -canalise all the springs captured among the rocks, and turn those which -it does not employ into the Grand-Jean rivulet, which crosses the lands -of your village before joining the Mionne. At little cost, if you only -establish some reservoirs, you will have abundant means for watering -your land and increasing its bearing qualities three times over.' - -Lenfant, who was short and stout, wagged his big head and reflected: -'It will certainly cost too much,' said he. Then Yvonnot, who was short -and slim, with a dark face and bad-tempered mouth, added: 'Besides, -monsieur, one thing that troubles us is that this water will lead to -a lot more disputes among us when we divide it. You act like a good -neighbour in giving it to us, and we are much obliged to you. Only, -how are we to manage so that each may have his proper share without -thinking that the others are robbing him?' - -Luc smiled. The question pleased him, for it would enable him to broach -the subject which he had on his mind, and on account of which he had so -particularly desired to see the two men. 'But water which fertilises,' -said he, 'ought to belong to everybody, just like the sun which shines -and warms, and the land, too, which brings forth and nourishes. As for -the best way to divide the water, why, the best is not to divide it at -all. What Nature gives to all men should be left to all of them.' - -The two peasants understood his meaning. For a moment they remained -silent, with their eyes fixed on the floor. It was Lenfant, the greater -thinker of the two, who at last replied. 'Yes, yes, we know. The farmer -of La Guerdache spoke to us of all that. No doubt it's a good idea for -folk to come to an agreement as you have done here, and put their money -and land and arms and tools in common, and then share the profits. It -seems certain that one would gain more and be happier in that fashion. -But, all the same, there would be some risk in it, and I think that -one will have to talk of it a good deal longer before all of us at Les -Combettes are convinced.' - -'Ah! yes, that's certain,' put in Yvonnot with a sudden wave of his -arm. 'We two, you see, are now pretty well in agreement, and are not so -much opposed to such novelties. But all the others have to be gained -over, and that will take a lot of doing, I warn you.' - -In those words lurked the peasant's distrust of all social changes -affecting the conditions under which property is now held. Luc -knew it well; he had expected resistance of this kind. However, he -continued smiling. How heart-rending to some was the idea of having -to give up one's strip of land, which from father to son one had -loved for centuries, and to see it merged into the strips of others! -Nevertheless all the many bitter disappointments due to that bankruptcy -of the over-divided soil, which ended by filling agriculturists with -despair and disgust, must help to convince them that the only possible -salvation lay in union and joint effort. Luc explained that success -would henceforth belong to associations, that it was necessary to -operate over large tracts of land with powerful machines for ploughing, -sowing, and reaping, with an abundance of manure too, chemically -prepared in neighbouring factories, and with continuous waterings by -which the crops would be greatly increased. The efforts of the peasant -who worked alone, in isolation, were leading to famine, but prodigious -plenty would ensue if the peasants of a village would only combine -together so as to work upon a large scale and procure the necessary -machinery, manure, and water. Extraordinary fertility would be created -thereby. Two or three acres would suffice to feed two or three -families. The population of France might be trebled, its soil would -amply suffice to nourish it if it were cultivated logically, all the -creative forces working harmoniously together. And that would also mean -happiness; the peasants' labour would not be one-third as painful as -now; he would be liberated from all sorts of ancient servitude, that of -the moneylender who preys upon him and that of the large landowner and -the State, who likewise do their best to crush him. - -'Oh! it's too fine!' declared Lenfant in his thoughtful way. - -But Yvonnot took fire more readily. 'Ah! dash it!' said he, 'if that be -true we should be fools not to try it.' - -'You see how we are situated at La Crêcherie,' resumed Luc, who had -been keeping a final argument in reserve. 'We have hardly been three -years in existence, and our business prospers, all our hands who have -combined together eat meat and drink wine, and they have no debts left -and no fear for the future. Question them, and visit our workshops, our -homes, our common house, all that we have managed to create in so short -a time. It's all the fruit of union, and you yourselves will accomplish -prodigies as soon as you become united.' - -'Yes, yes, we've seen, we know,' the two peasants answered in chorus. - -This was true; before asking for Luc they had inquisitively visited -La Crêcherie, appraising the wealth already acquired, feeling amazed -at the sight of that happy town which was springing up so rapidly, -and wondering what gain there might be for themselves if they should -combine in the same manner. The force of example was gradually winning -them over. - -'Well, since you know, it's all simple enough,' Luc gaily retorted. -'We need bread; our men can't live if you don't grow the corn that's -necessary. And you others need tools, spades, ploughs, machines made of -the steel which we manufacture. And so the solution of the problem is -simple enough--we have only to come to an understanding together--we -will give you steel, you will give us corn, and we shall all live very -happily. Since we are neighbours, since your land adjoins our works, -and we absolutely have need of one another, is it not best to live as -brothers, to combine together for the benefit of every one of us, so as -to form in future but one sole family?' - -Luc's good-natured way of putting the proposal made Lenfant and Yvonnot -merry. Never had the desirability of reconciliation and agreement -between the peasant and the industrial worker been set forth more -plainly. Luc dreamt, indeed, of incorporating in his association all -the secondary factories and industries which lived on it or beside -it. It was sufficient that there should be a centre producing a raw -material--steel--for other manufactories to swarm around. There were -the Chodorge works which made nails, the Hausser works which made -scythes, the Mirande works which made agricultural machinery; and there -was even an old wire-drawer, one Hordoir, whose couple of hammers, -worked by water power derived from a torrent, were still active in one -of the gorges of the Bleuse Mountains. All of these, if they desired -to live, would some day be compelled to join their brothers of La -Crêcherie, apart from whom existence would prove impossible. Even -the men of the building trades and those of the clothing trades--as -for instance Mayor Gourier's boot-works--would be dragged into the -combination, and supply houses and garments and shoes even, if in -exchange they desired to have tools and bread. The future city would -only come about through some such universal agreement, a community of -labour. - -'Well, Monsieur Luc,' at last said Lenfant in his wise way, 'all these -matters are too big to be decided in an offhand manner. But we promise -you that we will think them over and do our best to bring about a -cordial agreement at Les Combettes, such as you have here.' - -'That is just it, Monsieur Luc,' said Yvonnot, seconding his companion. -'Since we have got so far as to be reconciled, Lenfant and I, we may -well do all we can to get the others reconciled in the same way. -Feuillat, who's a clever fellow, will help us.' - -Then, before going off, they once more referred to the water which -Luc had promised to turn into the Grand-Jean rivulet. Everything was -settled; and the young man accompanied them as far as the garden, -where their children Arsène and Olympe, Eugénie and Nicolas, were -waiting. They had doubtless brought the little ones in order to show -them that famous Crêcherie, which the whole region was talking about. -And, as it happened, the pupils of the five classes had just come into -the garden to play, so that it was full of turbulent gaiety. The skirts -of the girls flew about in the bright sunshine, the boys bounded hither -and thither like young goats, there was laughter, and singing, and -shouting, a perfect florescence of childish happiness amidst the grass -and the foliage. - -But Luc caught sight of Sœurette, who stood scolding somebody amidst -a cluster of little heads both fair and dark. In the front rank stood -Nanet, now nearly ten years old, with a gay, round, bold face under -a tumbled shock of hair of the hue of ripe oats, but suggesting the -fleece of a young sheep. Behind him were grouped other children from -five to ten years of age, the four Bonnaires--Lucien, Antoinette, Zoé, -and Séverin--and the two Bourrons--Sébastien and Marthe--all of whom, -no doubt, had been detected in fault. It seemed, indeed, as if Nanet -had been the leader of the guilty band, for it was he who was answering -Sœurette, arguing matters with her like an obstinate urchin who would -never admit himself to be in the wrong. - -'What is the matter?' Luc inquired. - -'Ah! it's Nanet,' Sœurette replied, 'he has again been to the Abyss, -though it is strictly forbidden. I have just learnt that he led these -others there yesterday evening; and this time they even climbed over -the wall.' - -At the end of the Crêcherie lands, indeed, there stood a party-wall -separating them from those of the Abyss. And at one corner, where -Delaveau's garden was situated, there was an old door, which since all -intercourse had ceased was kept strongly bolted. - -But Nanet raised his voice in protest. 'First of all,' said he, 'it -isn't true that we all got over the wall. I got over by myself, and -then I opened the door for the others.' - -Luc, who felt greatly displeased, in his turn lost his temper. 'You -know very well,' he exclaimed, 'that you have been told more than a -dozen times that you are not to go there. You will end by bringing on -us some serious unpleasantness, and I repeat it to all of you that it -is very wrong and wicked to disobey in this fashion.' - -Nanet stood listening and looking with his eyes wide open. A good -little fellow at bottom, but unable to appreciate the importance of -his transgression, he felt moved at seeing Luc so disturbed. If he -had climbed over the wall to let the others in, it was because Nise -Delaveau had some playmates with her that afternoon, Paul Boisgelin, -Louise Mazelle, and other amusing little _bourgeois_, and because they -all wanted to play together. She was very pleasant was Nise Delaveau, -according to Nanet. - -'Why was it so wrong?' the boy repeated with an air of stupefaction. -'We didn't do harm to anybody, we all amused ourselves together.' - -Then he named the children who had been present, and gave a truthful -account of what they had done. They had only played as was allowable; -they had not broken any plants, nor had they thrown the stones lying in -the paths on to the flower-beds. - -'Nise gets on very well with us,' he said in conclusion. 'She likes me, -she told me so, and I like her since we've played together.' - -Luc forced back a smile. But in his heart a vision was arising--he saw -the children of the two rival classes scaling walls to fraternise, and -play, and laugh together, in spite of all the hatred and warfare which -separated their fathers. Would the peacefulness of the future community -flower forth in them? - -'It is quite possible,' said he, 'that Nise may be charming, and that -you may agree very well together; only it is understood that she is -to remain on her land and you on ours, in order that there may be no -complaints.' - -Then Sœurette, won over by all the charm of that innocent childhood, -looked at him with eyes so suggestive of forgiveness that he added more -gently: 'Well, you must not do it again, little ones, because you might -bring some real worry on us.' - -When Lenfant and Yvonnot had finally taken leave, carrying off their -children, who, after mingling in the play of the others, departed very -regretfully, Luc, whose daily visit was now finished, thought of going -home again. But he suddenly remembered that he had promised to see -Josine, and so he resolved to call on her. His morning had hitherto -been a good one, and by-and-by he would be able to return home with his -heart full of hope. - -The house occupied by Ragu and Josine, one of the first that had been -built, stood near the park of La Crêcherie, between the houses occupied -by the Bonnaires and the Bourrons. Luc was crossing the road when, at -some distance, at a corner of the foot pavement, he saw a small group -of women, who appeared to be busily chattering. And he soon recognised -Madame Bonnaire and Madame Bourron, who were apparently giving some -information to Madame Fauchard, she having come that morning, like -her husband, to see if the new works were indeed such a Tom Tiddler's -ground as some folk asserted. Judging by the sharp voice and harsh -gestures of Madame Bonnaire--La Toupe as folks called her--it seemed -evident that she was not painting a very seductive picture of the new -concern. Cross-grained as she was, she could be happy nowhere, but -invariably spent her time in spoiling her own life and that of others. -At the very beginning she had seemed pleased to find her husband -obtaining work at La Crêcherie, but after dreaming of immediately -securing a big share of the profits, she was now enraged at having -to wait for it, perhaps for a considerable time to come. Her great -grievance, however, was that she could not even succeed in buying -herself a watch, an article of which she had coveted the possession for -several years already. Quite a contrast to her was Babette Bourron, -who was ever in a state of delight, and did not cease extolling the -advantages of her new home, her keenest satisfaction arising perhaps -from the fact that her husband no longer came home drunk with Ragu. -Between the two of them--La Toupe and La Bourron--Madame Fauchard, -looking more emaciated, unlucky, and mournful than ever, remained in a -state of some perplexity, but she was naturally inclined to favour the -pessimism of La Toupe, the more particularly as she was convinced that -there was no more joy for her in this life. - -The sight of La Toupe and La Fauchard thus distressfully chattering was -very disagreeable to Luc. It robbed him of his good humour, the more -especially as he knew what a disturbance in the future organisation -of work, peace, and justice was threatened by women. He felt that -they were all-powerful, and it was by and for them that he would have -liked to found his city. Thus his courage often failed him when he met -such as were evil, hostile, or simply indifferent--women who, instead -of proving a help such as he awaited, might become an obstacle, a -destructive force indeed by which his labour might be annihilated. -However, he passed the gossips, lifting his hat as he did so, and they -suddenly became silent and anxious, as if he had caught them doing -wrong. - -When he entered Ragu's house he perceived Josine seated beside a -window. She had been sewing, but her work had fallen in her lap and, -gazing far away, she was now plunged in so deep a reverie that she -did not even hear him enter. For a moment he paused and looked at -her. She was no longer the wretched girl that he had known scouring -the pavements, dying of starvation, badly clad, with a pinched and -woeful face under a wild tangle of hair. She was one-and-twenty now, -and looked charming in her simple gown of blue linen stuff, her figure -supple and slim but by no means thin. And her beautiful hair, light as -silk, seemed like a delicate florescence above her rather long face -with its laughing blue eyes and its little mouth as fresh as a rosebud. -She seemed also to be seated in a fitting frame-work, in that gay and -clean little parlour furnished with varnished deal--the room that she -most preferred in the little house which she had entered so happily, -and in tidying and embellishing which she had taken so much pride and -pleasure for three years past. - -But of what could Josine now be dreaming, with so sorrowful an -expression on her pale face? When Bonnaire had prevailed on Ragu to -follow him and join the others at La Crêcherie she had deemed herself -saved from all future trials. Thenceforward she would have a nice -little home, her daily bread would be assured, and Ragu himself, having -no further worries with respect to work, would amend his ways. Luck -apparently had not failed her: Ragu had even married her at the express -desire of Sœurette; though truth to tell she, Josine, was by no means -so pleased with the idea of that marriage as she would have been at -the time when she had first met Ragu. Indeed, she had only consented -to it after consulting Luc, who for her remained both God and master. -And deep in her being there lurked a rapturous feeling born of the -momentary hesitation which she had divined in him before he signified -his approval. But after all was not that the best, and indeed the only -possible, solution? She could not do otherwise than marry Ragu since -he was willing. Luc had to appear pleased for her sake, retaining for -her the same affection after her marriage as before it, and looking at -her with a smile at each of their meetings, as if to ask her whether -she were happy. But at those times she often felt her poor heart -succumbing to despair, melting with an unsatisfied craving for true -affection. - -As if some breath had warned her, Josine started and shivered slightly -amidst her dolorous reverie. Then turning round she recognised Luc -smiling at her in a gentle and anxious way. - -'My dear child,' said he, 'I've come because Ragu asserts that you are -very badly lodged in this house, exposed to all the winds from the -plain, which, it seems, have broken three panes of your bedroom window.' - -She listened, looking surprised and confused, at a loss indeed how to -contradict her husband and avoid telling a lie. - -'Yes, there are some panes broken, Monsieur Luc,' said she, 'but I'm -not sure whether it was the wind that did it. True enough, when it -blows from the plain, we get our full share of it.' - -Her voice trembled as she spoke, and she was unable to restrain two big -tears which rolled down her cheeks. As a matter of fact the windows had -been broken by Ragu the previous evening when, in a fit of passion, he -had wanted to throw everything out of doors. - -'What, Josine! Are you crying? What is the matter? Come, tell me all -about it. You know that I am your friend,' said Luc eagerly. - -He had seated himself beside her, full of emotion, sharing her -distress. But she had already wiped her tears away. 'No, no, it is -nothing,' said she; 'I beg your pardon, but you've come at a bad -moment, and found me unreasonable and worrying.' - -Struggle as she might, however, he at last wrung a full confession -from her. Ragu did not become acclimatised to that sphere of order, -peacefulness, and slow and continuous effort towards a better life. -He seemed to suffer from nostalgia, to regret the misery and the -suffering of that wage-system amidst which he had lived, growling -against the masters yet habituated to slavery, and consoling himself -for it in the wine shops, where he intoxicated himself and poured -forth rebellious but powerless words. He regretted the black and dirty -workshops, the covert warfare waged with one's superiors, the noisy -freaks with comrades, all the abominable days fraught with hatred, -which one finished up by beating one's wife and children when one at -last returned home. And after beginning with jests he was ending with -accusations, calling La Crêcherie a big barracks, a prison where no -liberty was left one, not even that of drinking a glass too many if one -felt so inclined. Besides, so far, one earned there no more than one -had earned at the Abyss; and there were all sorts of worries, anxiety -as to whether things were going well, and whether there might be no -money for one to take when the time came round for profit-sharing. -For instance, during the last two months some very bad rumours had -been spreading; it was said that they would all have to tighten their -waistbands that year, as a great deal of money had been expended in -buying new machinery. Then again the co-operative stores often worked -very badly: at times potatoes were sent you when you had asked for -paraffin oil; or else you were forgotten and had to return three times -to the distribution office before you could get served. For these -various reasons Ragu had begun to deride the place, and grow wrathful -with it, calling it a dirty hole whence he hoped to 'sling his hook,' -as soon as might be possible. - -Painful silence fell between Josine and Luc. The young man had become -gloomy, for there was some truth beneath all those recriminations. It -was the inevitable grating of new machinery at the first stage of its -work. The rumours which were afloat respecting the difficulties of the -current year affected Luc particularly, since he did indeed fear that -he might be obliged to ask the men to make a few sacrifices in order to -prevent the prosperity of the establishment from being compromised. - -'And Bourron says "ditto" to Ragu, does he not?' Luc inquired of -Josine. 'But you have never heard Bonnaire complain, have you?' - -Josine was shaking her head, by way of answering no, when, through the -open window, the breeze wafted the voices of the three women who had -remained on the foot-pavement. La Toupe was again forgetting herself, -carried away by her incessant desire to bark and bite. If Bonnaire -remained silent, like a thoughtful man whose sensible mind admitted the -necessity of an experiment of considerable duration, that wife of his -sufficed to gather together all the backbiters of the rising town. As -Luc glanced out of the window he saw her again frightening La Fauchard -by predicting the approaching ruin of La Crêcherie. - -'And so, Josine,' he slowly resumed, 'you are not happy?' - -She again tried to protest: 'Oh! Monsieur Luc, why should I not be -happy, when you have done so much for me?' - -But her strength failed her, and again two big tears appeared in her -eyes and rolled down her cheeks. - -'You see very well, Josine, you are not happy,' repeated the young man. - -'I am not happy, it's true, Monsieur Luc,' she at last answered, 'only -you can do nothing in the matter. It is no fault of yours. You have -been a Providence for me, and what can one do if there's nothing that -can change Ragu's heart? He is becoming quite malicious again; he -can no longer abide Nanet; he nearly broke everything here yesterday -evening, and he struck me, because the child, so he said, answered him -improperly. But leave me, Monsieur Luc--those are things which only -concern me; at all events I promise you that I'll worry as little as I -can.' - -Sobs broke upon her trembling voice, which was scarcely audible. And -he, powerless as he was, experienced increasing sadness. A shadow was -cast over the whole of his happy morning; he was chilled by doubt and -despair--he usually so brave, whose strength lay so much in joyous -hope. Although things obeyed him, although material success seemed -assured, was he to find himself powerless to change men and develop -divine love, the fruitful flower of kindliness and solidarity, in -their hearts? If men should remain in a state of hatred and violence -his work would never be accomplished. Yet how was he to awaken them -to affection, how was he to teach them happiness? That dear Josine, -whom he had sought in the very depths, whom he had saved from such -awful misery, she to him seemed the very image of his work. That work -would not really exist until she was happy. She was woman, wretched -woman, the slave, the beast of burden and the toy, that he had dreamt -of saving. And if she was still and ever unhappy, nothing substantial -could have been founded, everything still remained to be done. Amidst -his grief Luc foresaw many dolorous days; a keen perception came to him -of the fact that a terrible struggle was about to open between the past -and the future, and that he himself would shed in it both tears and -blood. - -'Do not cry, Josine,' said he; 'be brave, and I promise you that you -shall be happy, for you must be happy in order that everybody may be -so.' - -He spoke so gently that she smiled. - -'Oh! I am brave, Monsieur Luc,' she answered; 'I know very well that -you won't forsake me, and that you will end by conquering, since you -are so full of kindness and courage. I will wait, I promise you, even -if I have to wait all my life.' - -It was like an engagement, an exchange of promises instinct with hope -in coming happiness. Luc rose, and as he stood there clasping both her -hands he could feel the pressure of her own. And that was the only -token of affection between them, the union of their hands for a few -brief seconds. Ah! what a simple life of peacefulness and joy might -have been lived in that little parlour, so cheerful and so clean with -its furniture of varnished deal! - -'_Au revoir_, Josine.' - -'_Au revoir_, Monsieur Luc.' - -Then Luc turned his steps homeward. And he was following the terrace, -below which ran the road to Les Combettes, when a final encounter -made him pause for a moment. He had just caught sight of Monsieur -Jérôme, who, in his bath-chair, propelled by a man-servant, was -skirting the Crêcherie lands. The sight of the old man recalled to -Luc other frequent chance meetings with him, now here, now there, and -particularly the first meeting of all, when he had seen him passing the -Abyss and gazing with his clear eyes at the smoky and noisy pile where -he had formerly founded the fortune of the Qurignons. In like fashion -he was now passing La Crêcherie and gazing at its new buildings, so gay -in the sunlight, with those same clear and seemingly empty eyes of his. -Why had he signed to his servant to bring him so far?--was he making a -complete round of the place in order to examine everything? What did he -think of it then, what comparisons did he wish to establish? Perhaps, -after all, this was merely some chance promenade, some mere caprice -on the part of a poor old man who had lapsed into second childhood. -However, whilst the servant slackened his pace, Monsieur Jérôme, grave -and impassive, raised his broad and regular countenance, on either -side of which fell his long white hair, and seemingly scrutinised -everything, letting neither a wall nor a chimney pass without giving it -a glance, as if indeed he wished to thoroughly understand that new town -now springing up beside the establishment which he had formerly created. - -But a fresh incident occurred, and Luc's emotion increased. Another -old man, also infirm, but still able to drag himself about on his -swollen legs, was coming slowly along the road in the direction of the -bath-chair. It was Daddy Lunot, corpulent, pale, and flabby, whom the -Bonnaires had kept with them, and who in sunny weather took short walks -past the works. At first, no doubt, he failed to recognise Monsieur -Jérôme, for his sight was weak. Then, however, he started, and drew -back close to the wall as if the road were not wide enough for two, -and, raising his straw hat, he bent double, bowed profoundly. It was -to the Qurignons' ancestor, to the master and founder, that the eldest -of the Ragus, wage-earner and father of wage-earners, thus rendered -homage. Years--and behind him centuries--of toil, suffering, and -poverty, humbled themselves in that trembling salute. The master might -be stricken, but the former slave, in whose blood coursed the cowardice -of ancient servitude, became disturbed and bowed as he passed. And -Monsieur Jérôme did not even see him, but passed on, staring like a -stupefied idol, his gaze still and ever fixed on the new workshops of -La Crêcherie, which perhaps he likewise failed to see. - -Luc shuddered. What a past there was to be destroyed, what evil, deadly -tares there were to pluck away! He looked at his town scarce rising -from the ground, and understood what trouble, what obstacles it would -encounter in growing and prospering. Love alone, and woman, and child -could end by achieving victory. - - - -II - - -During the four years that La Crêcherie had been established covert -hatred of Luc had been rising from Beauclair. At first there had -only been so much hostile astonishment accompanied by malicious -pleasantries, but since folk had been affected in their interests anger -had arisen, with a furious desire to resist that public enemy by all -possible weapons. - -It was more particularly among the petty traders, the retail -shopkeepers, that anxiety at first displayed itself. The co-operative -stores of La Crêcherie, which had been regarded with derision when -first inaugurated, were now proving successful, counting among their -customers not only the factory hands, but also all the inhabitants who -adhered to them. As may be imagined, the old purveyors were thrown -into great emotion by that terrible competition, that new tariff which -in many instances meant a reduction of one third on former prices. -Ruin would soon ensue if that wretched Luc were to prevail with those -disastrous ideas of his, tending to a more just apportionment of -wealth, and aiming in the first instance at enabling the humble ones -of the world to live more comfortably and cheaply. The butchers, the -grocers, the bakers, the wine dealers, would all have to put up their -shutters if people were to succeed in doing without them. Thus the -tradespeople shouted in chorus that it was abominable. To them society -did indeed seem to be cracking and collapsing now that they could no -longer levy the profits of parasites, and thereby increase the misery -of the poor. - -The most affected of all, however, were the Laboques, those ironmongers -who, after beginning life as market hawkers, had ended by establishing -something like a huge bazaar at the corner of the Rue de Brias and -the Place de la Mairie. The prices for the iron of commerce had -fallen considerably throughout the district since La Crêcherie had -been turning out large quantities; and the worst was that with the -co-operative movement now gaining upon the smaller works of the -neighbourhood, a time seemed coming when consumers would procure direct -at the co-operative stores, without passing through the clutches of -the Laboques, such articles as Chodorge's nails, Hausser's scythes -and sickles, and Mirande's agricultural appliances and tools. Apart -from their output of raw iron and steel the Crêcherie stores were -already supplying several of those articles, and thus the amount of -business transacted by the Laboques became smaller every day. Their -rage therefore knew no end; they were exasperated by what they termed -that 'debasement of prices,' and regarded themselves as robbed, simply -because their useless cogwheels were no longer being allowed to consume -energy and wealth with profit for nobody save themselves. Their -house had thus naturally become a centre of hostility, opposition, -and hatred, in which Luc's name was never mentioned otherwise than -with execration. There met Dacheux the butcher, stammering forth -his reactionary rage, and Caffiaux the grocer and wine-seller, who, -although reeking of rancour, was of a colder temperament and weighed -his own interests carefully. Even the beautiful Madame Mitaine, the -baker's wife, though inclined to agreement, came at times and lamented -with the others the loss of a few of her customers. - -'Do you know,' Laboque cried, 'that this Monsieur Luc, as people call -him, has at bottom only one idea, that of destroying trade? Yes, he -boasts of it, he shouts the monstrous words aloud: "Trade is robbery." -For him we are all robbers, and we've got to disappear! It was to sweep -us away that he established La Crêcherie.' - -Dacheux listened with dilated eyes, and all his blood rushing to his -face. 'Then how will one manage to eat and clothe oneself, and all the -rest?' he asked. - -'Well, he says that the consumer will apply direct to the producer.' - -'And the money?' the butcher asked. - -'Money? Why, he suppresses that too! There's to be no more money. Isn't -it stupid, eh? As if people could live without money!' - -At this Dacheux almost choked with fury. 'No more trade! no more money! -Why, he wants to destroy everything. Isn't there a prison for such a -bandit? He'll ruin Beauclair if we don't put a stop to it!' - -But Caffiaux was gravely wagging his head. 'He says a good many more -things. He says first of all that everybody ought to work--he wants -to turn the world into a perfect stone-yard, where there'll be guards -with staves to see that everybody does his task. He says, too, that -there ought to be neither rich nor poor; according to him one will be -no richer when one's born than when one dies; one will eat according to -what one earns, neither more nor less, too, than one's neighbour; and -one won't even have the right to save up money.' - -'Well, but what about inheritances?' put in Dacheux. - -'There will be no more inheritances.' - -'What! no more inheritances? I shan't be able to leave my daughter my -own money? Thunder! that is coming it too strong!' And thereupon the -butcher banged his fist on the table with such violence that it shook. - -'He says, too,' continued Caffiaux, 'that there will be no more -authorities of any kind, no government, no gendarmes, no judges, no -prisons. Each will live as he pleases, eat and sleep as he fancies. He -says also that machinery will end by doing all the work, and that the -workmen will simply have to drive it. It is to be the earthly paradise, -because there will be no more fighting, no more armies, and no more -wars. And he says, moreover, that when men and women love one another -they will remain together as long as they please and then bid each -other good-bye in a friendly fashion, to take up with others later on -if they are so inclined. And as for children, the community will take -charge of them, bring them up in a heap as chance may have it, without -any need of a mother's or a father's attentions.' - -Beautiful Madame Mitaine, who hitherto had remained silent, now began -to protest: 'Oh, the poor little ones!' said she. 'I hope that each -mother will at least have the right to bring up her own. It's all very -well for the children who are forsaken by their parents to be brought -up pell-mell by strangers as in orphan asylums. But really it seems to -me that what you have been telling us is hardly proper.' - -'Say at once that it's filthy!' roared Dacheux, who was beside himself. -'Why, their famous future society will simply be a house of ill-fame!' - -Then Laboque, who did not lose sight of his threatened interests, -concluded: 'That Monsieur Luc is mad. We cannot let him ruin and -dishonour Beauclair in this fashion! We shall have to agree together -and take steps to stop it all.' - -The anger increased, however, and there was a universal explosion -when Beauclair learnt that the infectious disease of La Crêcherie was -spreading to the neighbouring village of Les Combettes. Stupefaction -was manifested, condemnation was passed on all sides--that Monsieur Luc -was now debauching, poisoning the peasantry! After reconciling the four -hundred inhabitants of the village, Lenfant, the mayor, assisted by his -deputy, Yvonnot, had induced them to put their land in common by virtue -of a deed of association similar to that which linked capital, talent, -and work together at La Crêcherie. Henceforth there would be but one -large estate, in such wise that machinery might be used, that manure -might be applied on a large scale, and high cultivation practised with -a view to increasing the crops tenfold and reaping large profits, which -would be shared by one and all. Moreover, the two associations, that -of La Crêcherie and that of Les Combettes, would mutually consolidate -each other; the peasants would supply the workmen with bread, and the -workmen would supply the peasants with tools and manufactured articles -necessary for life, in such a way that there would be a conjunction -of two inimical classes, tending by degrees to fusion, and forming -the embryo of a brotherly people. Assuredly the old world would come -to an end if Socialism should win over the peasantry, the innumerable -toilers of the country districts, who had hitherto been regarded as the -ramparts of egotistical ownership, preferring to die of unremunerative -labour on their strips of land rather than part with them. The shock of -this change was felt throughout Beauclair, and a shudder passed like a -warning of the coming catastrophe. - -Again the Laboques were the first to be affected. They lost the custom -of Les Combettes. They no longer saw Lenfant nor any of the others come -to buy spades, ploughs, tools, and utensils. On the last occasion when -Lenfant called he haggled and finally bought nothing, plainly declaring -to them that he would gain thirty per cent, by no longer dealing with -them, since they were compelled to levy such a profit on articles which -they themselves procured at neighbouring works. Henceforth all the folk -of Les Combettes addressed themselves direct to La Crêcherie, adhering -to the co-operative stores there, which grew and grew in importance. -And then terror set in among all the petty retailers of Beauclair. - -'One must act, one must act!' Laboque repeated with growing violence -each time that Dacheux and Caffiaux came to see him. 'If we wait till -that madman has infected the whole region with his monstrous doctrines, -we shall be too late.' - -'But what can be done?' Caffiaux prudently inquired. - -Dacheux for his part favoured brutal slaughter. 'One might wait for him -one evening at a street corner and treat him to one of those hidings -which give a man food for reflection.' - -But Laboque, puny and cunning, dreamt of some safer means of killing -his man. 'No, no, the whole town is rising against him, and we must -wait for an opportunity when we shall have the whole town on our side.' - -Such an opportunity did indeed arise. For centuries past old Beauclair -had been traversed by a filthy rivulet, a kind of open drain, which was -called the Clouque. It was not known whence it came; it seemed to flow -up from under some antique hovels at the opening of the Brias gorges, -and according to the common opinion it was one of those mountain -torrents whose sources remain unknown. Some very old inhabitants -remembered having seen it in full flood at certain periods. But for -long years already it had supplied very little water, which various -industries contaminated. The housewives dwelling beside it had even -ended by using it as a natural sink into which they emptied all sorts -of slops, in such wise that it carried with it much of the filth of the -poor district, and in summer sent forth an abominable stench. At one -moment there had been serious fears of an epidemic, and the municipal -council, at the mayor's initiative, had debated whether it should not -be covered over. But the expense seemed too great, so the matter was -shelved and the Clouque quietly continued perfuming and contaminating -the neighbourhood. All at once, however, it quite ceased to flow, dried -up apparently, leaving only a hard rocky bed in which there was no -longer a single drop of water. As by the touch of some magician's wand -Beauclair was rid of that source of infection, to which all the bad -fevers of the district had been attributed. And all that remained was -a feeling of curiosity as to whither the torrent might have betaken -itself. - -At first there were only some vague rumours on the subject. Then -more precise statements were made, and it became certain that it was -Monsieur Luc who had begun to divert the torrent from its usual course -by capturing the springs on the slopes of the Bleuse Mountains for -the needs of La Crêcherie, whose health and prosperity came largely -from its abundant supply of beautiful, clear water. But the climax had -come, all the water of the torrent being diverted by Luc, when it had -occurred to him to give the overplus of his reservoirs to the peasants -of Les Combettes, in that way founding their fortune, and bringing -about their happy association; for it was that beneficent water, -flowing on for one and all, that had first united them together. Before -long proofs became plentiful, the water which had disappeared from the -Clouque was streaming along the Grand-Jean, and turned to intelligent -use, was becoming wealth instead of filth and death. Then rancour and -rage arose and grew against that man Luc, who disposed so lightly of -what did not belong to him. Why had he stolen the torrent? Why did he -keep it and give it to his creatures? It was not right that people -should in that way take the water of a town, a stream which had always -flowed there, which people were accustomed to see, and which, whatever -might be said to the contrary, had rendered great services. The meagre -streamlet, transporting filthy detritus, exhaling pestilence and -killing people, was forgotten. Folk talked no more of burying it, -each recounted what great benefit he or she had derived from it, for -watering, for washing, and for the daily needs of life. Such a theft -could not be tolerated; it was absolutely necessary that La Crêcherie -should restore the Clouque, that filthy drain which had poisoned the -town. - -Naturally enough it was Laboque who shouted the loudest. He paid -an official visit to Gourier, the mayor, to inquire what decision -he intended to propose to the Municipal Council under such grave -circumstances. He, Laboque, claimed to be particularly injured, for the -Clouque had flowed behind his house, at the end of his little garden; -and he alleged that he had derived considerable advantages therefrom. -If he had drawn up a protest and sought to collect signatures he would -undoubtedly have obtained those of all the inhabitants of his district. -But, in his opinion, the town itself ought to take the affair in hand, -and commence an action against La Crêcherie, claiming the restitution -of the torrent, and damages for the temporary loss of it. Gourier -listened, and in spite of his own hatred against Luc, contented himself -with nodding approval. Finally he declared that he must have a few -days to reflect, look into the matter, and consult those around him. -He fully understood that Laboque was urging the town to take up the -matter, in order that he might not have to do so himself. And no doubt -Sub-Prefect Châtelard, whom all complications terrified and with whom -Gourier shut himself up for a couple of hours, was able to convince him -that it was always wise to let others embark in law-suits; for when the -mayor sent for the ironmonger again, it was only to explain to him at -great length that an action started by the town would drag on and lead -to nothing serious, whereas one brought by a private individual would -prove far more disastrous for La Crêcherie, particularly if after a -first condemnation other private individuals followed suit, prolonging -matters indefinitely. - -A few days later Laboque issued a writ and claimed five and twenty -thousand francs damages. Taking as a pretext a kind of treat offered -by his son and daughter, Auguste and Eulalie, to their young friends, -Honorine Caffiaux, Évariste Mitaine, and Julienne Dacheux, Laboque -held quite a meeting at his house. The young folk were now fast -growing up--Auguste was sixteen and Eulalie nine; Évariste, now in -his fourteenth year, was already becoming serious, and Honorine, -nineteen, and thus of an age to marry, showed herself quite motherly -towards little Julienne, who was but eight years old, and therefore the -youngest of the party. The young people, it should be said, at once -installed themselves in the strip of garden, where they played and -laughed merrily, for their consciences were clear and gay, and they -knew nothing of hatred and anger such as consumed their parents. - -'We hold him at last!' said Laboque to his friends. 'Monsieur Gourier -told me that if we carried things to a finish we should ruin the works! -Let us admit that the court only awards me ten thousand francs. Well, -there are a hundred of you who can all bring similar actions, so he -would have to dip in his pockets for a million! And that is not all--he -will have to give us back the torrent and demolish the works he raised. -That will deprive him of that fine fresh water which he is so proud of. -Ah! my friends, what a good business!' - -They all grew excited and triumphant at the idea of ruining the works -of La Crêcherie and lowering that fellow Luc, that madman who wished to -destroy trade, inheritances, money--in a word all the most venerable -foundations of human society. Caffiaux alone reflected. - -'I should have preferred to see an action brought by the town,' said -he. 'Whenever it's a question of fighting the gentlefolk always want -others to do so. Where are the hundred people who will issue writs -against La Crêcherie?' - -At this Dacheux exploded: 'Ah! I would willingly join in, if my house -were not on the other side of the street. And even as things stand I -shall see if I cannot do something, for the Clouque passes at the end -of my mother-in-law's yard. Yes, thunder! I must make one of you.' - -'But to begin,' resumed Laboque, 'there is Madame Mitaine, who is -circumstanced exactly as I am, and whose house suffers like mine since -the stream has ceased to flow. You will issue a writ, won't you, Madame -Mitaine?' - -He had craftily invited her that day with the express intention of -compelling her to enter into a formal agreement. He knew her to be -desirous of living in peace herself and of respecting the peace of -others. Nevertheless he hoped to win her over. - -She at first began to laugh. 'Oh! as for any harm done to my house by -the disappearance of the Clouque, no, no, neighbour; the truth is that -I had given orders that not a drop of that bad water was ever to be -used, for I feared I might render my customers ill. It was so dirty -and it smelt so bad that whenever it is given back to us we shall -have to spend the necessary money to get rid of it by making it pass -underground as there was formerly a question of doing.' - -Laboque pretended that he did not hear this. 'At all events, Madame -Mitaine,' said he, 'you are with us, your interests are the same as -ours, and if I win my suit you will act with all the other river-side -people, relying on the _chose jugée_, won't you?' - -'We'll see, we'll see,' replied the baker's beautiful wife, becoming -grave. 'I'm willing enough to be on the side of justice, if it is just.' - -Laboque had to rest content with that conditional promise. Besides, his -state of excitement and rancour deprived him of all sense; he thought -that victory was already won, and that he was about to crush all those -socialist follies which in four years had diminished his sales by one -half. It was society that he avenged by banging his fist on the table -in company with Dacheux, whilst the prudent Caffiaux, before definitely -committing himself, waited to see which side would triumph. - -Beauclair was quite upset when it heard of Laboque's writ, and his -demand for an indemnity of twenty-five thousand francs. This was -indeed an ultimatum, a declaration of war. From that moment there -was a rallying-point around which all the scattered hatreds grouped -themselves into an army which pronounced itself vigorously against -Luc and his work, that diabolical factory, where the ruin of ancient -and respectable society was being forged. All Beauclair ended by -belonging to this army, the injured tradesmen drew their customers -together, and all the gentlefolk joined, since the new ideas quite -terrified them. Indeed, there was not a petty _rentier_ who did not -feel himself threatened by some frightful cataclysm, in which his own -narrow egotistical life would collapse. The women, too, were indignant -and disgusted now that La Crêcherie was depicted to them as a huge -disorderly house, the triumph of which, with its doctrine of free -love, would place them at any man's mercy. Even the workmen, even the -starving poor, became anxious, and began to curse the man who dreamt -of saving them, but whom they accused of aggravating their misery -by increasing the pitilessness of their employers and the wealthy. -What distracted Beauclair more than all else, however, was a violent -campaign which the local newspaper, the little sheet published by -Lebleu the printer, started against Luc. This journal now appeared -twice a week, and Captain Jollivet was suspected of being the author of -the articles whose virulence was creating such a sensation. The attack, -it should be said, reduced itself to a cannonade of lies and errors, -all the muddy trash which is cast at Socialism by way of caricaturing -its intentions and besmirching its ideal. It was, however, certain -that such tactics would prove successful with poor ignorant brains, -and it was curious to see how greatly the indignation spread, uniting -against the disturber of the public peace all the old inimical classes, -which were furious at being disturbed in their ancient cesspool by a -pretended desire to reconcile them and lead them to the just, happy, -and healthy city of the future. - -Two days before Laboque's action was heard in the civil court of -Beauclair, the Delaveaus gave a grand lunch, with the secret object -of enabling their friends to meet and arrive at an agreement prior to -the battle. The Boisgelins naturally were invited, and so were Mayor -Gourier, Sub-Prefect Châtelard, Judge Gaume, with his son-in-law -Captain Jollivet, and finally Abbé Marle. The ladies of the various -families also attended, in order that the meeting might retain all the -semblance of a private pleasure party. - -Châtelard that day, according to his wont, called on the mayor at -half-past eleven to fetch him and his wife, the ever-beautiful Léonore. -Ever since the success of La Crêcherie Gourier had been living in -anxiety. He had divined that a quiver was passing through the hundreds -of hands that he employed at his large boot-works in the Rue de Brias. -The men were evidently influenced by the new ideas, and inclined to -combine together. And he asked himself if it would not be better to -yield, to help on such combination himself, for he would be ruined by -it if he did not contrive to belong to it. This, however, was a worry -which he kept secret, for there was another which filled him with great -rancour, and made him Luc's personal enemy. His son, indeed, that tall -young fellow Achille, so independent in his ways, had broken off all -connection with his parents and sought employment at La Crêcherie, -where he found himself near Ma-Bleue, his sweetheart of the starry -nights. Gourier had forbidden any mention of that ungrateful son, who -had deserted the _bourgeoisie_ to join the enemies of social security. -But although the mayor was unwilling to say it, his son's departure had -aggravated his secret uncertainty, and brought him a covert fear that -he might some day be forced to imitate the youth's example. - -'Well,' said he to Châtelard, as soon as he saw the latter enter, -'that lawsuit is at hand now. Laboque has been to see me again, as he -wanted some certificates. He is still of opinion that the town ought -to intervene, and it is really difficult to refuse him a helping hand -after egging him on as we did.' - -The sub-prefect contented himself with smiling. 'No, no, my friend,' he -answered, 'believe me, don't involve the town in it. You were sensible -enough to yield to my reasoning, you refused to take proceedings, -and you allowed that terrible Laboque, who thirsts for vengeance -and massacre, to act by himself. That was fitting, and, I beg you, -persevere in that course, remain simply a spectator; there will always -be time to profit by Laboque's victory if he should be victorious. Ah! -my friend, if you only knew what advantages one derives by meddling in -nothing!' - -Then by a gesture he expressed all that he had in his mind, the peace -that he enjoyed in that sub-prefecture of his since he allowed himself -to be forgotten there. Things were going from bad to worse in Paris, -the central authorities were collapsing a little more each day, and -the time was near when _bourgeoise_ society would either crumble -to pieces or be swept away by a revolution. He, like a sceptical -philosopher, only asked that he might endure till then, and finish his -life happily in the warm little nest which he had chosen. His whole -policy therefore consisted in letting things go, in meddling with them -as little as possible; and he was convinced that the Government, amidst -the difficulties of its last days, was extremely grateful to him for -abandoning the beast to its death without creating any further worries. -A sub-prefect whom one never heard of, who by his intelligence had -effaced Beauclair from the number of governmental cares, was indeed -a precious functionary. Thus Châtelard got on extremely well; his -superiors only remembered him to cover him with praises, whilst he -quietly finished burying the old social system, spending the autumn of -his own days at the feet of the beautiful Léonore. - -'You hear, my friend,' he continued, 'don't compromise yourself, for -in such times as ours one never knows what may happen on the morrow. -One must be prepared for everything, and the best course therefore is -to include oneself with nothing. Let the others run on ahead and take -all the risk of getting their bones broken. You will see very well -afterwards what you ought to do.' - -However, Léonore now came into the room, gowned in light silk. Since -she had passed her fortieth year she had been looking younger than -ever, with her blonde majestic beauty and her candid eyes. Châtelard, -as gallant now as on the very first day, took her hand and kissed -it, whilst the husband with an air of relief glanced at the pair -affectionately. - -'Ah! you are ready,' said he. 'We will start then--eh, Châtelard? And -be easy, I am prudent, and have no desire to thrust myself into any -turmoil, which would destroy our peace and quietness. But by-and-by, at -Delaveau's, you know, it will be necessary to say like the others.' - -At that same hour Judge Gaume was waiting at home for his daughter -Lucile and his son-in-law Jollivet, who were to fetch him in order that -they might all repair to the lunch together. During the last four years -the judge had greatly aged. He seemed to have become yet more severe, -and sadder; and he carried strict attention to the letter of the law -to the point of mania, drawing up the preambles of his judgments with -increasing minuteness of detail. It was said that he had been heard -sobbing on certain evenings, as if he felt everything connected with -his life giving way, even that human justice to which he clung so -despairingly as to a last piece of wreckage which might save him from -sinking. Amidst his dolorous remembrance of the tragedy which weighed -upon his life--his wife's betrayal and violent death--he must above all -else have suffered at seeing that drama begin afresh with his daughter -Lucile, of whom he was so fond, and who was so virginal of countenance, -and so strikingly like her mother. She in her turn was now deceiving -her husband. Indeed, she had not been married six months to Captain -Jollivet before she had taken a lover, a solicitor's petty clerk, a -tall fair youth with blue girlish eyes, younger than herself. The -judge having surprised the intrigue, suffered from it as if it were a -renewal of that betrayal which had left an ever-bleeding wound in his -heart. He recoiled from a painful explanation, which would have brought -him perchance a repetition of the awful day when his wife had killed -herself before his eyes after confessing her fault. But how abominable -was that world in which all that he had loved had betrayed and failed -him! And how could one believe in any human justice when it was the -most beautiful and the best who made one suffer so cruelly! - -Thoughtful and morose, Judge Gaume was seated in his private room, -where he had just finished reading the 'Journal de Beauclair,' when the -Captain and Lucile made their appearance. The violent article against -La Crêcherie which he had just read seemed to him foolish, clumsy, and -vulgar. And he quietly expressed his opinion to that effect. - -'It is not you, I hope, my good Jollivet, who write such articles, as -is rumoured. No good purpose is served by insulting one's adversaries,' -he said. - -The Captain made a gesture of embarrassment: 'Oh, write!' he retorted, -'you know very well that I don't write, it is not to my taste. But it's -true that I give Lebleu some ideas, some notes, you know, on scraps of -paper, and he gets somebody or other to write articles based on them.' -Then, as the judge still pursed his lips disappprovingly, the captain -went on: 'What else can one do? One fights with such weapons as one -has. If those cursed Madagascar fevers had not compelled me to send -in my papers, I should have fallen sabre and not pen in hand on those -idealogues who are demolishing everything with their criminal utopian -schemes. Ah! yes indeed, it would relieve me to be able to bleed a -dozen of them!' - -Lucile, short and _mignonne_, had hitherto remained silent, with her -usual keen enigmatical smile upon her lips. But now she turned so -plainly ironical a glance upon her husband, that great man with the -victorious moustaches, that the judge easily detected in it all the -merry disdain she felt for a swashbuckler whom her little hands toyed -with as a cat may toy with a mouse. - -'Oh, Charles!' said she, 'don't be wicked, don't say things that -frighten me!' - -But just then she met her father's glance, and feared lest her true -feelings should be divined; so putting on her candid, virginal air -again, she added: 'Isn't it wrong of Charles to get so heated, father -dear? We ought to live quietly in our little corner.' - -But Gaume detected that she was still jeering. 'It is all very sad -and very cruel,' said he by way of conclusion, virtually speaking to -himself. 'What can one decide, what can one do when all deceive and -devour one another?' - -He rose painfully, and took his hat and gloves in order to go to -Delaveau's. Then in spite of everything, when once he was in the -street, and Lucile--of whom he was so fond, whatever the sufferings she -caused him--took hold of his arm, he enjoyed a moment of delightful -forgetfulness as after a lovers' quarrel. - -Meantime, when noon struck at the Abyss, Delaveau joined Fernande in -the little _salon_ opening into the dining-room of the pavilion built -by the Qurignons, which was now the home of the manager of the works. -It was a rather small dwelling; for, apart from the dining and drawing -rooms and the domestic offices, the ground floor only contained one -other apartment, which Delaveau had made his private room, and which -communicated by a wooden gallery with the general offices of the works. -Then on the first and second floors were some bed-rooms. Since a young -woman passionately fond of luxury had been living in the house, carpets -and hangings had imparted to the old floors and dark walls some little -of the splendour that she dreamt of. - -Boisgelin was the first guest to arrive, and came unaccompanied. - -'What!' exclaimed Fernande, as if greatly distressed, 'is not Suzanne -with you?' - -'She begs you to excuse her,' Boisgelin replied in very correct -fashion. 'She woke up this morning with a sick headache, and has been -unable to leave her room.' - -Each time that there was any question of going to the Abyss matters -took this course--Suzanne found some pretext for avoiding such an -aggravation of her grief, and only Delaveau, in his blindness, failed -to understand the truth. - -Moreover, Boisgelin immediately changed the conversation. 'Ah! so here -we are on the eve of the famous law-suit,' said he. 'It is as good as -settled, eh? La Crêcherie will be condemned!' - -Delaveau shrugged his broad shoulders. 'What does it matter to us -whether it be condemned or not?' he replied. 'It does us harm, no -doubt, by lowering the price of metal, but we don't compete in -manufactured articles, and there is nothing very serious as yet.' - -Fernande, who looked wondrously beautiful that day, stood quivering, -gazing at her husband with flaming eyes. 'Oh! you don't know how to -hate!' she cried. 'What! that man set himself to thwart all your plans, -founded at your very door a rival enterprise, the success of which -would be the ruin of the one you manage--a man, too, who never ceases -to be an obstacle and a threat--and you don't even desire to see him -crushed! Ah! if he's flung naked into a ditch I shall be only too -pleased!' - -From the very first day she had felt that Luc would be the enemy, and -she could not speak calmly of that man who threatened her enjoyment -of life. Therein for her lay his one great unique crime. With her -ever-increasing appetite for pleasure and luxury, she required ever -larger profits, an abundance of prosperity for the works, hundreds and -hundreds of workmen, kneading, fashioning steel at the flaming doors -of their furnaces. She was the devourer of men and money, the one -whose cravings the Abyss with its steam hammers and its huge machinery -no longer sufficed to satisfy. And what would become of her hopes of -future pomp and vanity, of millions amassed and devoured, if the Abyss -should fall into difficulties, and succumb to competition? With that -thought in her mind, she left neither her husband nor Boisgelin any -rest, but ever urged them on, worried them incessantly, seizing every -opportunity to give expression to her anger and her fears. - -Boisgelin, who feigned a superior kind of way--never meddling with -business matters, but spending the profits of the works without -counting them, setting his only glory in being a handsome ladykiller, -an elegant horseman, and a great sportsman--was none the less -accustomed to shiver when he heard Fernande speak of possible ruin. -Thus, on the present occasion, turning towards Delaveau, in whom he -retained absolute confidence, he inquired, 'You have no anxiety, eh, -cousin? All is going on well here?' - -The engineer again shrugged his shoulders. 'I repeat that the works are -in no wise affected as yet. Moreover, the whole town is rising against -that man--he is mad. We shall all see now how unpopular he is; and if -at bottom I am well pleased with that law-suit, it is because it will -finish him off in the opinion of Beauclair. Before three months have -elapsed all the workmen that he has taken from us will be coming with -hands clasped to beg me to take them back. You will see, you will see! -Authority is the only sound principle, the enfranchisement of labour is -arrant stupidity, for the workman no longer does anything properly when -once he becomes his own master.' - -Silence fell, then he added more slowly, with a faint shade of anxiety -in his eyes, 'All the same, we ought to be prudent. La Crêcherie is not -a competitor that one can neglect, and what would alarm me would be any -lack of the necessary funds for a struggle in some sudden emergency. We -live too much from day to day, and it is becoming indispensable that -we should establish a substantial reserve fund, by setting apart, for -instance, one third of the annual profits.' - -Fernande restrained a gesture of involuntary protest. That was indeed -her fear: that her lover might have to reduce his expenditure, and that -she, in her pride and pleasures, might suffer therefrom. She had to -content herself for the moment with looking at Boisgelin. But he, of -his own accord, plainly answered: 'No, no, cousin, not at the present -moment. I can't set anything aside, my expenses are too heavy. At the -same time I must thank you once more, for you make my money yield even -more than you promised. We will see about the rest later on--we will -talk it over.' - -Nevertheless Fernande remained in a nervous state, and her covert anger -fell upon Nise, who had just lunched alone, under the supervision of a -maid, who now brought her into the _salon_ before taking her to spend -the afternoon with a little friend. Nise, who was now nearly seven -years old, was growing quite pretty, pink and fair, and ever merry, -with wild hair which made her resemble a little curly sheep. - -'There, my dear Boisgelin,' said Fernande, 'there's a disobedient child -who will end by making me quite ill. Just ask her what she did the -other day at that treat which she offered to your son Paul and little -Louise Mazelle!' - -Without evincing the slightest alarm, Nise, with her limpid blue eyes, -continued gaily smiling at those about her. - -'Oh!' continued her mother, 'she won't admit any wrong-doing. But -do you know, although I had forbidden it a dozen times, she again -opened the old door in our garden wall to admit all the dirty urchins -of La Crêcherie into our grounds. There was that little Nanet, a -frightful little rascal for whom she has conceived an affection. And -your boy Paul was mixed up in it, and so was Louise Mazelle, all of -them fraternising with the children of that man Bonnaire, who left us -in such an insolent fashion. Yes, Paul with Antoinette, and Louise -with Lucien, and Mademoiselle Nise and her Nanet, leading them to the -assault of our flower-beds. Yet she has not even a blush of shame on -her cheeks, you see!' - -'It isn't just,' Nise simply answered in her clear voice; 'we did not -break anything, we played together very nicely. He is funny, is Nanet.' - -This answer made Fernande quite angry: 'Ah! you think him funny, do -you? Just listen to me. If ever I catch you with him, you shall have no -dessert for a week. I don't want you to get me into any unpleasantness -with those people near us. They would go about everywhere saying that -we attract their children here in order to render them ill. You hear -me? This time it is serious; you will have to deal with me if you see -Nanet again.' - -'Yes, mamma,' said Nise in her quiet, smiling way. And when she had -gone off with the maid, after kissing everybody, the mother concluded: -'It is very simple--I shall have the door walled up. In that way I -shall be certain that the children won't communicate. There is nothing -worse than that--it corrupts them.' - -Neither Delaveau nor Boisgelin had intervened; for on the one hand they -saw in this affair only so much childishness, and on the other they -approved of severe measures when good order was in question. But the -future was germinating. Stubborn Mademoiselle Nise had carried away -in her little heart the thought of Nanet, who was funny and played so -nicely. - -At last the guests arrived, the Gouriers with Châtelard, then Judge -Gaume with the Jollivets. Abbé Marle was the last to appear, late -according to his wont. Though the Mazelles had expressly promised to -come and take coffee, some obstacle prevented them from sharing the -repast. Thus there were only ten at table; but then they had desired -to be few in number in order that they might be able to chat at their -ease. Besides, the dining-room, of which Fernande felt ashamed, was -such a small one that the old mahogany sideboard interfered with the -service whenever there were more than a dozen round the table. - -From the serving of the fish, some delicious trout of the Mionne, the -conversation naturally fell on La Crêcherie and Luc. And what was said -by those educated _bourgeois_, in a position to know the truth about -what they called 'socialist utopia,' proved scarcely one whit more -sensible or intelligent than the extraordinary views expressed by such -people as Dacheux and Laboque. The only man who might have understood -the real position was Châtelard. But then he preferred to jest. - -'You know,' said he, 'that the boys and girls there grow up all -together in the same class-rooms and workshops, so that we may expect -the little town to become a populous one, very rapidly. With their -loose theories, they will all be papas and mammas, and there will be -quite a tribe of children running about?' - -'How horrible!' exclaimed Fernande, with an air of profound disgust, -for she affected extreme prudishness. - -Then, for a few moments, the free love theories attributed to the -denizens of La Crêcherie formed the topic of conversation. But a matter -of that kind did not worry Delaveau. In his estimation the serious -point was the undermining of authority, the criminal dream of living -without a master. - -'Such a conception as that is beyond me,' he exclaimed. 'How will their -future city be governed? To speak only of the works, they say that by -association they will suppress the wage system, and that there will be -a just division of wealth when only workers are left, each giving his -share of toil to the community. But I can conceive of no more dangerous -dream than that, for it is irrealisable, is it not, Monsieur Gourier?' - -The mayor, who was eating with his face bent over his plate, spent some -time in wiping his mouth before he answered, for he noticed that the -sub-prefect was looking at him. - -'Irrealisable, no doubt,' he said at last. 'Only one must not lightly -condemn the principle of association. There is great strength in -association, and we ourselves may be called upon to make use of it.' - -This prudent reply incensed the captain, who retorted angrily, 'What! -wouldn't you condemn once and for all the execrable deeds which that -man--I speak of that Monsieur Luc--is planning against all that we -love, that old France of ours, such as the swords of our fathers made -it and bequeathed it to us?' - -Some mutton cutlets served with asparagus heads were now being handed -round, and a general outcry against Luc arose. The mention of his -hated name sufficed to draw them all together, unite them closely, in -alarm for their threatened interests, and with an imperious craving -for resistance and revenge. Somebody, however, was cruel enough to -ask Gourier for news of his son, Achille the renegade, and the mayor -had to curse the lad once again. Châtelard alone tried to tack about -and keep the discussion on a jocular footing. But in this he failed, -for the captain continued prophesying the worst disasters if the -factious-minded were not immediately kicked into obedience and order. -And his words disseminated such a panic that Boisgelin, becoming -anxious again, appealed to Delaveau, from whom there happily came a -reassuring declaration. - -'Our man is already hit,' declared the manager of the Abyss. 'The -prosperity of La Crêcherie is only on the surface, and an accident -would suffice to bring everything to the ground. Thus, for instance, my -wife was lately giving me some particulars----' - -'Yes,' broke in Fernande, happy to have an opportunity of relieving her -feelings, 'the information came to me from my laundress. She knows one -of our former hands, a man named Ragu, who left us in order to go to -the new works. Well, it seems that Ragu is declaring everywhere that he -has had quite enough of that dirty den, that the men are bored to death -there, that he isn't the only one to complain, and that one of these -fine days they will all be coming back here. Ah! who will begin, who -will deal the blow necessary to make that man Luc totter and fall to -pieces?' - -'But there's the Laboque lawsuit,' said Boisgelin, coming to the young -woman's help. 'I hope that will suffice for everything.' - -Fresh silence ensued whilst some roast ducks made their appearance. -Although the Laboque lawsuit was the real motive of that friendly -gathering, nobody as yet had dared to speak of it in presence of the -silence which Judge Gaume preserved. He ate but little, his secret -sorrows having brought him a complaint of the digestive organs, and -he contented himself with listening to the others and gazing at them -with his cold grey eyes, whence he knew how to withdraw all expression. -Never had he been seen in a less communicative mood, and this ended by -embarrassing the others, who would have liked to know on what footing -to treat him, and at least have some certainty as to the judgment which -he would deliver. Although no thought of possible acquittal at his -hands entered anybody's mind, they all hoped that he would have the -good taste to pledge himself in a sufficiently clear fashion. - -Again it was the captain who advanced to the assault. 'The law is -formal, is it not, Monsieur le Président?' he inquired. 'All damage -done to anybody must be repaired?' - -'No doubt,' answered Gaume. - -More was expected from him, but he relapsed into silence. And -thereupon, by way of compelling him to pledge himself more thoroughly, -the Clouque affair was noisily discussed. That filthy stream became one -of the former adornments of Beauclair; it was not right that people -should steal a town's water in such a fashion as that man Luc had done, -particularly to give it to peasants whose brains had been turned to -such a point that they had converted their village into a hotbed of -furious anarchy which threatened the whole region. All the terror of -the _bourgeoisie_ now became apparent, for assuredly the ancient and -holy principle of property was in sore distress if the sons of the -hard-fisted peasants of former times had reached such a point as to -place their strips of land in common. It was high time that justice -should interfere and put a stop to such a scandal. - -'Oh! we may be quite easy,' Boisgelin ended by saying in a flattering -tone. 'The cause of society will be in good hands. There is nothing -above a just judgment, rendered in all liberty by an honest conscience.' - -'Without doubt,' Gaume simply repeated. - -And this time it was necessary to rest content with that vague remark, -in which they all strove to detect the certainty of Luc's conviction. -The meal was now virtually over, for after a Russian salad there were -only some strawberry ices and the dessert. But the guests' stomachs -were comforted, and they laughed a good deal, for they were convinced -of victory. When they had gone into the _salon_ to take coffee and the -Mazelles arrived, the latter were, as usual, greeted with somewhat -jocose friendliness. Those worthy folk, living on their income, and -personifying the delights of idleness, moved one's heart! Madame -Mazelle's complaint was no better, but she was delighted at having -obtained from Doctor Novarre some new wafers which enabled her to eat -anything with impunity. It was only such matters as the abominable -stories of La Crêcherie, the threat that Rentes would be done away -with, and that the right of inheritance would be abolished, that now -gave her a turn. But what was the use of talking about disagreeable -things? Mazelle, who watched over his wife with profound satisfaction, -winked at the others and begged them to raise those horrid subjects -no more, since they had such a bad effect on Madame Mazelle's failing -health. And then the gathering became delightful, they all hastened to -revert to the happiness of life, a life of wealth and enjoyment, of -which they plucked all the flowers. - -At last, amidst growing anger and hatred, the day of the famous lawsuit -dawned. Never had Beauclair been so upset by furious passion. Luc in -the first instance had felt astonished at Laboque's writ, and had -simply laughed at it, particularly as it seemed to him impossible that -the claim for twenty-five thousand francs by way of damages could be -sustained. If the Clouque had dried up it would in the first place -be difficult for anybody to prove that this had been caused by the -capturing of hillside springs at La Crêcherie; and moreover those -springs belonged to the estate, to the Jordans, and were free from all -servitude, in such wise that the owner had a full right to dispose of -them as he pleased. On the other hand Laboque must assuredly base his -claim for damages on facts proving that he had really sustained injury -and loss, but he simply made such a feeble and clumsy attempt to do -so that no court of justice in the world could possibly decide in his -favour. As Luc jocularly put it, it was he who ought to have claimed a -public grant as a reward for having delivered the waterside landowners -from a source of infection, of which they had long complained. The town -now simply had to fill up the bed of the stream and sell the land for -building purposes, thereby putting a few hundred thousand francs into -its coffers. Thus Luc laughed, not imagining that such a lawsuit as -Laboque's could be at all serious. It was only afterwards, on finding -rancour and hostility rising against him on every side, that he began -to realise the gravity of the situation, and the peril in which his -work would be placed. - -This was a first painful shock for him. He was not ignorant of the -maliciousness of man. In giving battle to the old world, he had fully -expected that the latter would not yield him place without anger and -resistance. He was prepared for the Calvary he foresaw, the stones -and mud with which the ungrateful multitude usually pelt precursors. -Yet his heart wavered as he realised the approach of folly, cruelty, -and betrayal. He understood that behind the Laboques and the other -petty traders there was the whole _bourgeoisie_, all who possess and -are unwilling to part with aught of their possessions. His attempts -at association and co-operation placed capitalist society, based on -the wage-earning system, in such peril that he became for it a public -enemy, of which it must rid itself at any cost. And it was the Abyss -and La Guerdache and the whole town and authority in every form that -were now bestirring themselves, joining in the struggle and striving -to crush him. If he fell that pack of wolves would rush upon him and -devour him. He knew the names of those enemies, functionaries, traders, -mere _rentiers_ with placid faces who would have eaten him alive had -they seen him fall at a street corner. And therefore, mastering his -distress of heart, he prepared for battle, full of the conviction that -one can found nothing without battling, and that all great human work -is sealed with human blood. - -It was on a Tuesday, a market day, that Laboque's action was heard by -the civil court, over which Judge Gaume presided. Beauclair was in a -state of uproar, all the folk who had come in from the neighbouring -villages helped to increase the general feverishness on the Place de -la Mairie and in the Rue de Brias. Sœurette, who felt anxious, had -therefore begged Luc to ask a few strong friends to accompany him. But -he stubbornly refused to do so, he resolved to go to the court alone, -just as he had resolved to defend himself in person, having engaged an -advocate simply as a matter of form. When he entered the court-room, -which was small and already crowded with noisy people, silence suddenly -fell, and the eager curiosity which greets an isolated, unarmed victim -ready for sacrifice became manifest. Luc's quiet courage increased -the rage of his enemies, who pronounced his demeanour to be insolent. -He remained standing in front of the bench allotted to defendants, -and whilst quietly gazing at the closely packed people around him, he -recognised Laboque, Dacheux, Caffiaux, and other shopkeepers among all -the many furious enemies with ardent faces, whom he saw for the first -time. However, he felt a little relieved on finding that the intimates -of La Guerdache and the Abyss had at least had the good taste to -refrain from coming to see him delivered to the beasts. - -Long and exciting proceedings were anticipated, but there was nothing -of the kind. Laboque has chosen one of those provincial advocates -with a reputation for maliciousness who are the terror of a region. -And, indeed, the best time which Luc's enemies spent was when this -man spoke. Knowing how flimsy were the legal grounds on which the -demand for damages was based, he contented himself with ridiculing -the reforms attempted at La Crêcherie. He made his hearers laugh a -good deal with the comical and distorted picture which he drew of -the proposed future society. And he raised general indignation when -he pictured the children of both sexes being corrupted, the holy -institution of marriage being abolished, and free love and all such -horrors taking its place. Nevertheless, the general opinion was that -he had not found the supreme insult or argument, the bludgeon blow -by which a suit is gained and a man for ever crushed. And so great, -therefore, became the anxiety that when Luc in his turn spoke, his -slightest words were greeted with murmurs. He spoke very simply, -refrained from replying to the attacks made upon his enterprise, and -contented himself with showing with decisive force that Laboque's -demands were ill-founded. Would he not rather have rendered a service -to Beauclair if he had, indeed, dried up that pestilential Clouque, and -presented the town with good building land? It was not even proved, -however, that the works carried out at La Crêcherie had caused the -disappearance of the torrent, and he was waiting for the other side -to give proof of it. When he concluded, some of his bitterness of -heart appeared, for he declared that if he desired nobody's thanks for -whatever useful work he might have done, he would be happy if people -would but allow him to pursue his enterprises in peace, without seeking -groundless quarrels with him. On several occasions Judge Gaume had to -enjoin silence on the audience; nevertheless when the public prosecutor -also had spoken, in a designedly confused manner, in turn praising and -condemning both parties, Laboque's advocate replied in so violent a -fashion, calling Luc an Anarchist bent on destroying the town, that -loud acclamations burst forth, and the judge had to threaten that -he would order the court to be cleared if such demonstrations were -renewed. Then he postponed judgment for a fortnight. - -When that fortnight was past, the popular passions had become yet more -heated, and folk almost came to blows on the market-place in discussing -the probable terms of the judgment. Nearly everybody, however, was -convinced that it would be a severe one, fixing the damages at ten or -fifteen thousand francs, and ordering the defendant to restore the -Clouque to its former condition. At the same time some people wagged -their heads and felt sure of nothing, for they had not been satisfied -with Judge Gaume's demeanour in court. Anxiety was caused, too, by the -manner in which the judge had shut himself up at home on the morrow of -the hearing, under the pretence of suffering from some indisposition. -It was said that he was really in perfect health, and had simply -desired to place himself beyond any pressure, refusing to see people -lest they might try to influence his judicial conscience. What did -he do in that silent house of his, whose doors and windows were kept -strictly closed, and which his daughter even was not allowed to enter? -To what moral struggle, what internal drama had he fallen a prey amidst -his wrecked life, the collapse of all that he had loved and all that he -had believed in? Those were questions which occupied many people, but -which none could answer. - -Judgment was to be delivered at noon at the outset of the court's -sitting. And the room was yet more crowded and excited than on the -former occasion. Laughter rang out, and words of hope and violence were -exchanged from one to the other end. All Luc's enemies had come to see -him annihilated. And he had again refused to let anybody accompany -him, preferring to present himself alone, the better to express the -peacefulness of his mission. He stood up smiling and looking around -him without even appearing to suspect that all that growling anger was -directed against himself. At last, punctual to the minute, Judge Gaume -came in, followed by his two assessors and the public prosecutor. There -was no need for the usher to command silence, the chatter suddenly -ceased, and the faces of one and all were stretched forward, aglow with -anxious curiosity. The judge had in the first instance seated himself, -then he rose holding the paper on which his judgment was written; -and for a moment he remained thus, motionless and silent, with his -eyes gazing far away beyond the crowd. At last, slowly and without -the faintest emphasis, he began to read his judgment. It was a long -business, for 'whereas' followed 'whereas' with monotonous regularity, -presenting the various questions submitted to the court in full detail -and under every possible aspect. The people present listened without -understanding much of what was read, and without managing to foresee -the conclusion, so incessantly and closely did arguments on either side -follow one another. It seemed, however, at each forward step that Luc's -contentions were adopted by the court, that no real damage had been -done to another, and that every landowner had a right to execute what -work he pleased on his own land when no servitude existed to restrain -him. And the decision at last burst forth--Luc was acquitted, the -action was dismissed. - -At first a moment of stupefaction ensued in the court-room. Then, -everybody having understood the position, there came hooting and -violent threatening shouts. What! the excited crowd, maddened by lies -for months past, was robbed of its promised victim! It demanded that -victim, it claimed him that it might tear him to pieces, since an -attempt to rob it of him was made at the last moment by a judge who had -evidently sold himself. Was not Luc the public enemy, the stranger who -had come nobody knew whence to corrupt Beauclair, ruin its trade, and -foment civil war in its midst by banding the workmen together against -their masters? And had he not with diabolical wickedness stolen the -town's water, dried up a stream whose disappearance was a disaster for -all who had property near its banks? The 'Journal de Beauclair' had -repeated those accusations every week, all the authorities, all the -gentlefolk had spread them abroad, and now the humbler ones, blinded -and enraged, convinced that a pestilence would come from La Crêcherie, -'saw red' and demanded death. Fists were thrust forward, and the cries -increased: - -'To death with the thief! To death with the poisoner, to death with -him!' - -Very pale, with his features rigid, Judge Gaume remained standing -amidst the uproar. He wished to speak and give orders for the court to -be cleared, but he had to renounce all hope of making himself heard. -And for dignity's sake he had to rest content with suspending the -sitting by withdrawing from the court followed by his two assessors and -the public prosecutor. - -Luc had remained calm and smiling beside his bench. He had been as -much surprised as his adversaries by the tenor of the judgment, for he -knew in what a vitiated atmosphere the judge lived. It was comforting -to meet a just man amid so much human baseness. When, however, the -cries of death burst forth, Luc's smile became a sad one, and his heart -filled with bitterness as he turned towards that howling throng. What -had he done to those petty _bourgeois_, those tradesmen, those workmen? -Had he not desired to benefit all, was he not working in order that -all might become happy, loving, and brotherly? But the fists still -threatened him, and the shouts lashed him more violently than ever: -'To death! to death with the thief! To death with the poisoner!' - -To see those poor folk so wild, maddened by falsehoods, caused Luc -profound grief, for he loved them in spite of everything. He restrained -his tears, for he wished to remain erect, proud, and courageous beneath -those insults. The public thinking itself braved, would have ended, -however, by breaking down the oaken partitions in order to get at him, -if some guards had not at last succeeded in thrusting him out of the -court-room and securing the doors. Then, on behalf of Judge Gaume, the -clerk of the court came to beg Luc to refrain from leaving immediately, -for fear of some accident; and eventually the clerk prevailed on him -to wait a few minutes in the room of the doorkeeper of the Palace of -Justice, whilst the crowd was dispersing.[1] - -But if Luc consented to do this he none the less experienced a feeling -of shame and revolt at being obliged to hide himself. He spent in that -doorkeeper's room the most painful fifteen minutes of his life, for -he thought it cowardly not to face the crowd, and was indignant that -the position of an apparent culprit should thus be forced upon him. -Directly the approaches of the Palace of Justice had been cleared, he -insisted on going home, on foot, and unaccompanied by anybody. He had -merely a light walking-stick with him, and was even sorry that he had -brought it, for fear lest anybody should imagine that he had done so -for purposes of defence. He had all Beauclair to cross, and he set out -slowly and quietly along the streets. Until he reached the Place de -la Mairie nobody seemed to notice him. The people who had quitted the -court had waited for him for a few minutes; then feeling certain that -he would not venture out for some hours, they had gone off to spread -the news of the acquittal through the town. But on the Place de la -Mairie, where the market was being held, Luc was recognised. He was -pointed out and a few persons even began to follow him, not as yet with -evil intentions, but solely to see what might happen. There were only -some peasants and their customers present, mere sightseers who were not -mixed up in the quarrel. Thus matters only took a serious turn when the -young man turned into the Rue de Brias, at the corner of which, in -front of his shop, Laboque, infuriated by his defeat, was venting his -anger amidst a small crowd of people. - -All the tradespeople of the neighbourhood had hastened to Laboque's -establishment directly they had heard the disastrous tidings. What! -was it true then? La Crêcherie would be free to finish ruining them -with its co-operative stores, since the judges took its part? Caffiaux, -who looked overwhelmed, preserved silence, full of thoughts which he -would not express. But Dacheux the butcher, with all his blood rushing -to his face, showed himself one of the most violent, eager to defend -his meat, sacred meat, meat the privileged food of the wealthy! And he -even talked of killing people rather than reduce his prices by a single -centime. Madame Mitaine, for her part, had not come. She had never been -in favour of the lawsuit, and she simply declared that she should go -on selling bread as long as she found buyers, and that, for the rest, -she would see afterwards. Laboque, however, boiling over with fury, was -for the tenth time recounting the abominable treachery of Judge Gaume -when all at once he perceived Luc quietly walking past his shop--that -ironmongery shop whose ruin he was consummating. Such audacity brought -Laboque's rage to a climax; and he almost threw himself on the young -man as, half stifled by his rising bile, he growled, 'To death with the -thief! To death with the poisoner!' - -Luc, without pausing, contented himself with turning his calm brave -eyes on the tumultuous throng whence came Laboque's husky invectives. -This was taken by all as an act of provocation, and a general clamour -arose, gathered force, and became like a tempest blast. 'To death with -the thief! To death with the poisoner! To death with him!' - -Luc meantime, as if he himself were not in question, quietly went his -way, glancing to right and left, like one who is interested in the -sights of the streets. But almost the whole band had begun to follow -him with louder and louder hoots, and threats, and the outrageous -words, 'To death with the thief! To death with the poisoner! To death -with him!' - -And those shouts never ceased, but grew and spread as he went at -a leisurely pace up the Rue de Brias. Out of each shop came fresh -tradespeople to join the demonstration. Women showed themselves in -the doorways and hooted the young man as he passed. Some in their -exasperation even rushed up and shouted with the men: 'To death with -the thief and poisoner!' Luc saw one of them, a fair young woman, a -fruiterer's wife, charmingly beautiful, showing her fine white teeth -as she shouted insults after him, and threatening him with her hands, -whose rosy finger-nails seemed eager to tear him to pieces. Children -also had begun to run after him, and there was one, some five or six -years old, no bigger than a jack-boot, who almost threw himself between -the young man's legs in order that he might be the better heard: 'To -death with the thief! To death with the poisoner!' Poor little urchin! -Who could have already taught him to raise that shout of hatred? But -matters became worse when Luc passed the factories situated in the -upper part of the street. The workgirls of Gourier's boot manufactory -appeared at their windows, clapped their hands and howled. Then there -were even the workmen of the Chodorge and Mirande factories, who stood -smoking on the foot-pavement waiting for the bells to ring the close of -the dinner-hour, and who, brutified by servitude, likewise joined in -the demonstration. One thin little fellow, with carroty hair and big -blurred eyes, seemed stricken with insanity, so furiously did he rush -about, shouting louder than all the others: 'To death with the thief! -To death with the poisoner! To death with him!' - -Ah! that ascent of the Rue de Brias, with that growing band of enemies -at his heels, amidst that ignoble torrent of threats and insults! -Luc remembered the evening of his arrival at Beauclair four years -previously, when the black tramp, tramp of the disinherited starvelings -along that same street had filled him with such active compassion that -he had vowed to devote his life to the salvation of the wretched. What -had he done for four years past, that so much hatred should have sprung -up against him? He had made himself the apostle of the morrow, the -apostle of a community all solidarity and brotherliness, organised by -the ennoblement of work--work, the regulator of human wealth. He had -given an example of what he desired to establish, at that La Crêcherie -where the future city was germinating, and where such additional -justice and happiness as was for the time possible already reigned. -And that had sufficed--the whole town regarded him as a malefactor; -for he could feel that the whole of it was behind the band now barking -at his heels. How bitter was the suffering that accompanied that -Calvary-ascent, which all just men must make amidst the blows of the -very beings whose redemption they seek to hasten! Yet as for those -_bourgeois_ whose quiet digestions he troubled, Luc excused them for -hating him; for were they not terrified by the thought of having to -share their now egotistical enjoyment with others? He also excused -those shopkeepers who ascribed their ruin to his malice, when he simply -dreamt of a better employment of social forces, and of preventing -all useless waste of the public fortune. And he even excused those -workmen whom he had come to save from misery, and for whom he was so -laboriously raising a city of justice, yet who hooted and insulted him, -to such a degree, indeed, had their brains been fogged and their hearts -chilled. Only if he excused them all, in his sorrowful brotherliness, -he bled, indeed, at finding, amongst the most insulting, those very -toilers of factory and workshop whom he desired to make the nobles, the -free and happy men of to-morrow. - -Luc was still ascending that endless Rue de Brias, and the pack of -wolves was still increasing in numbers, their shouts knowing no -cessation: 'To death with the thief! To death with the poisoner! To -death with him!' - -For a moment he paused, turned, and looked at all those people in order -that they might not imagine that he was fleeing. And as there happened -to be some piles of stones thereabouts, one man stooped down, took up a -stone and flung it at him. Immediately afterwards others stooped, and -the stones began to rain upon him amidst ever-growing threats. - -'To death with the thief! To death with the poisoner! To death with -him!' - -So now he was being stoned. However, he made not a gesture even, but -resumed his walk, persevering in the ascent of his Calvary. His hands -were empty, he had with him no weapon save his light walking-stick, and -this he had slipped under his arm. But he remained very calm, full of -the idea that if he were destined to fulfil his mission it would render -him invulnerable. His grief-stricken heart alone suffered, cruelly rent -as it was by the sight of so much error and madness. Tears rose to his -eyes, and he had to make a great effort to prevent them from flowing -down his cheeks. - -'To death with the thief! To death with the poisoner! To death with -him!' Still and ever did those cries resound. - -A stone at last struck one of Luc's heels, then another grazed his -hip. It had become a game now--the very children took part in it. But -they were unskilful, and most of the stones rebounded over the ground. -Twice, however, did pebbles pass so near Luc's head, that one might -have thought him struck. He no longer turned round, but still and ever -ascended the Rue de Brias at the same leisurely pace as before, like -one who, after going for a stroll, is returning home. But at last a -stone did hit him, tearing his right ear; and then another, striking -his left hand, cut the palm of it open. At this his blood gushed out, -and fell in big red drops upon the ground. - -'To death with the thief and poisoner! To death with him!' some of the -crowd still cried. But an eddy of panic momentarily stayed the advance. -Several people ran off, seized with cowardice, now that the moment to -kill the man seemed to have arrived. Some of the women, too, shrieked, -and carried the children away in their arms. Only the most furious -fanatics then kept up the pursuit. Luc, still continuing his painful -journey, just glanced at his hand; then, after wiping his ear with his -handkerchief, he wrapped the latter over his bleeding palm. But he had -slackened his pace, and could hear his pursuers drawing quite near to -him. When on the nape of his neck he detected the ardent panting of the -throng, he turned round for the last time. Rushing on frantically, in -the front rank, was the short and scraggy workman with carroty hair and -big dull eyes. He was a smith belonging to the Abyss, it was said. With -a final bound he reached the man whom he had been following from the -bottom of the street, and though there seemed to be no motive for his -frenzied hatred, he spat with the greatest violence in his face. - -'To death with the thief! To death with the poisoner! To death with -him!' - -Luc had at last ascended his Calvary--he was at the top of the Rue de -Brias now. But he staggered beneath that final abominable outrage. -His face became frightfully pale, and an involuntary impulse of his -whole being prompted him to raise his uninjured hand and clench it -vengefully. He looked like some superb giant beside a wretched dwarf, -for with one blow he could have felled the little workman to the -ground. But his consciousness of strength enabled him to restrain -himself. He did not bring down his fist. From his eyes, however, flowed -two big tears, tears of infinite grief which hitherto he had been able -to keep back, but which he could now no longer hide, such had become -the bitterness of his feelings. He wept to think that there should be -so much ignorance, so terrible a misunderstanding, that all those poor, -unhappy, well-loved toilers should refuse to be saved! And they, after -sneering at him, allowed him to return home, bleeding, and all alone. - -In the evening Luc shut himself up in the little pavilion which he -still occupied at the end of the park, alongside the road to Les -Combettes. His acquittal did not leave him any illusions. The violence -displayed towards him that afternoon, the savage pursuit of the crowd, -told him what warfare would be waged against him now that the whole -town was rising. These were the supreme convulsions of an expiring -social system which was unwilling to die. It resisted and struggled -furiously, with the hope of staying the march of mankind. Some, the -partisans of authority, set salvation in pitiless repression; others, -the sentimentalists, appealed to the past and its poetry, to all indeed -that man weeps for when he is forced to quit it for ever; and others, -again, seized with exasperation, joined the revolutionaries as if eager -to finish matters at once. And thus Luc felt that he had virtually been -pursued by all Beauclair, which was like a miniature world amidst the -great one. And if he remained brave and still resolved for battle, he -was none the less bitterly distressed, and anxious to hide it. During -the hours, few and far between, when he felt weakness coming over -him, he preferred to shut himself up and drain his cup of sorrow to -the dregs in privacy, only showing himself once more when he was hale -and brave again. That evening therefore he barred both the doors and -windows of the pavilion, and gave orders that nobody was to be admitted -to see him. - -About eleven o'clock, however, he fancied that he could hear some light -footsteps on the road. Then came a low call, scarce audible, which made -him shiver. He went to open the window, and on looking between the -laths of the shutters he perceived a slender form. Then a very gentle -voice ascended, saying: 'It is I, Monsieur Luc, I must speak to you at -once.' - -It was the voice of Josine. Luc did not even pause to reflect, but at -once went to open the little door communicating with the road. And then -he led her into his closed room, where a lamp was burning peacefully. -But on looking at her he was seized with terrible anxiety, for her -garments were in disorder and her face was bruised. - -'Good heavens! what is the matter, Josine? What has happened?' he cried. - -Tears were falling from her eyes, her hair drooped about her delicate -white neck, and the collar of her gown was torn away. - -'Ah, Monsieur Luc, I wanted to see you,' she began. 'It isn't because -he beat me again when he came home, but on account of the threats he -made. It's necessary you should know of them this very evening.' - -Then she related that Ragu, on learning what had happened in the Rue -de Brias, the ignominious manner in which 'the governor,' as he called -Luc, had been escorted out of the town, had gone off to Caffiaux's -wine-shop, leading Bourron and others astray with him. And he had but -lately returned home, drunk, of course, and shouting that he had had -quite enough of La Crêcherie, and would not stop a day longer in a -dirty den where one was bored to death, and had not even the right to -drink a drop too much if one wanted to. At last, after jeering and -laughing and indulging in all sorts of foul language, he had wished to -compel her, Josine, to pack up their clothes at once in order that they -might go off in the morning to the Abyss, where all the hands leaving -La Crêcherie were readily taken on. And as she had desired him to pause -before coming to such a decision, he had ended by beating her and -turning her out of the house. - -'Oh! I don't count, Monsieur Luc,' she continued. 'It's you who are -insulted and whom they want to injure. Ragu will certainly go off in -the morning--nothing can restrain him--and he will certainly carry off -Bourron as well as five or six others whom he didn't name to me. For -my part, I can't help it, but I shall have to follow him, and it all -grieves me so much that I felt I must tell it you at once, for fear -lest I might never see you again.' - -Luc was still looking at her, and a wave of bitterness submerged his -heart. Was the disaster even greater then than he had supposed? His -workmen now were leaving him, returning to the hard toil and filthy -wretchedness of former times, seized with nostalgia for the hell whence -he had so laboriously striven to extricate them. In four years he -had won naught of their minds or their affection. And the worst was -that Josine was no happier; she now came back to him as on the first -day, insulted, beaten, cast into the street! Thus nothing was done, -and everything remained to be done; for did not Josine personify the -suffering people? It was only on that evening, when he had met her -grief-stricken and abandoned, a victim of accursed toil, imposed on -human kind like slavery, that he had yielded to his desires to act. She -was the most humble, the lowest, the nearest to the gutter, and she was -also the most beautiful, the gentlest, the saintliest. Ah! as long as -woman should suffer, the world would not be saved. - -'Oh! Josine, Josine, how grieved I am for you--how I pity you!' he -murmured with infinite tenderness, whilst he also began to weep. - -When she saw his tears thus falling, she suffered yet more grievously -than before. What! he was weeping thus bitterly, he, her god, he whom -she adored, like some superior power, in gratitude for all the help he -had brought her, the joy with which he had henceforth filled her life! -The thought, too, of the outrages that he had undergone, that awful -ascent of the Rue de Brias, increased her adoration, drew her near to -him as with a desire to dress his wounds. What could she do to comfort -him, how could she efface from his face the insult spat upon him, -enable him to feel himself respected, admired, and worshipped? - -'Oh, Monsieur Luc,' said she, 'you do not know how grieved I am at -seeing you so unhappy, and how I should like to relieve your sorrows a -little.' - -They were so near together that the warmth of their breath passed over -their faces. And their mutual compassion filled them with increasing -tenderness. How she suffered! how he suffered! And he only thought of -her, even as she only thought of him, with immensity of pity and a -craving for love and felicity. - -'I am not to be pitied,' said Luc at last; 'there is only you, Josine, -whose suffering is a crime, and whom I must save.' - -'No, no, Monsieur Luc, I do not count; it is you who ought not to -suffer, for you are the providence of us all.' - -Then, as she let herself sink into his arms, he clasped her -passionately to his breast. It was a crisis not to be resisted--the -mingling of two flames in order that they might henceforth become -but one sole flame of affection and strength. Thus was their destiny -accomplished. All had led them to it; a sudden vision appeared to -them of their love born one stormy evening, then slowly growing in -intensity, in the depths of their hearts. Nothing henceforth could part -them. They were two beings meeting in a long-awaited kiss, attaining to -florescence. No remorse was possible; they loved even as they existed, -in order that they might be healthy and strong and fruitful. And as Luc -sat in that quiet chamber with Josine he became conscious that a great -help had suddenly come to him. Love alone could create harmony in the -city he dreamed of. Josine was his; and his union with the disinherited -was thereby sealed. Apostle that he was of a new creed, he felt that -he had need of a woman to help him to redeem mankind. The poor little -beaten workgirl whom he had met one evening dying of starvation had now -for him become a very queen. She had known the uttermost depths, and -she would help him to create a new world of splendour and joy. She was -the only one whose help he needed to complete his task. - -'Give me your hand, your poor injured hand, Josine,' he gently said to -her. - -She gave it him; it was the hand which had been caught in some -boot-stitching machinery, and the forefinger of which had been cut off. -'It is very ugly,' she murmured. - -'Ugly, Josine? Oh no! it is so dear to me that I kiss it with devotion.' - -He pressed his lips to the scar left by the injury, he covered the -poor, slender, maimed hand with caresses. - -'Oh, Luc!' she cried, 'how you love me, and how I love you!' - -As that cry of happiness and hope rang out they once more flung their -arms around each other's necks. Outside, over the heavy sleep of -Beauclair sped the thuds of hammer-strokes, the clang of steel coming -from La Crêcherie and the Abyss, both working, competing one with the -other through the night. And doubtless the war was not yet over, the -terrible battle between Yesterday and To-morrow was destined to become -fiercer still. But in the midst of all the torture there had come a -halt of happiness, and whatever sufferings might lie ahead, love at -least was sown for the harvest of the future. - - -[1] All who remember M. Zola's trial in Paris in connection with the -Dreyfus case will recognise that the above passages and others in this -chapter are in part founded on his personal experiences at the time -referred to.--_Trans._ - - - -III - - -From that time forward, at each fresh disaster which fell upon La -Crêcherie, when men refused to follow Luc or impeded him in his -endeavours to establish a community of work, justice, and peace, he -invariably exclaimed: 'But they don't love! If they only loved, all -would prove fruitful, all would grow and triumph in the sunlight.' - -His work had reached the torturing all-deciding hour of regression, -that hour when, in every forward march, there comes a struggle, a -forced halt. One ceases to advance, one even recedes, the ground that -has been gained seems to crumble away, and it appears even as if one -would never reach one's goal. And this, too, is the hour when with -firmness of mind and unconquerable faith in final victory heroes make -themselves manifest. - -Luc strove to restrain Ragu when he found him desirous of withdrawing -from the association and returning to the Abyss. But he was confronted -by an evilly disposed ranter, one who felt happy in doing wrong, since -defection on the part of the men might ruin the new works. Besides -there was something deeper in Ragu's case, a form of nostalgia, a -craving to return to slavish labour and black misery, all that horrid -past which he carried with him in his blood. In the warm sunlight, -amidst the gay cleanliness of his little home, girt round with -verdure, he had ever regretted the narrow evil-smelling streets of -Old Beauclair, the soiled hovels through which swept a pestilential -atmosphere. Whenever he spent an hour in the large clear hall of the -common-house, where alcohol was not allowed, he was haunted by the -acrid smells of Caffiaux's tavern. Even the orderly manner in which the -co-operative stores were now managed angered him, and prompted him to -spend his money after his own fashion with the dealers of the Rue de -Brias, whom he himself called thieves, but with whom he at least had -the pleasure of quarrelling. And the more Luc insisted, pointing out -how senseless was his departure, the more stubborn did Ragu become, -full of the idea that if such efforts were made to retain him, it must -be because his departure would deal the works a severe blow. - -'No, no, Monsieur Luc,' said he, 'there's no arrangement possible. -Perhaps I am acting stupidly, though I don't think so. You promised us -all sorts of marvels--we were all to become rich men; but the truth is -that we don't earn more than elsewhere, and that we have additional -worries that are not at all to my taste.' - -It was indeed a fact that the shares in the profits made at La -Crêcherie had, so far, amounted to little more than the salaries -earned at the Abyss. But Luc made haste to answer. 'We live, and is -it not everything to live when the future is certain? If I have asked -sacrifices of you, it has been in the conviction that everybody's -happiness lies at the end. But patience and courage are certainly -necessary, together with faith in the task and a great deal of work -also.' - -Such language was not of a nature to influence Ragu. One expression -alone had struck him. 'Oh! everybody's happiness,' he said jeeringly, -'that's very pretty. Only I prefer to begin by my own.' - -Luc then told him that he was free, that his account would be settled, -and that he might leave when he pleased. After all, he had no interest -in retaining a malicious man, whose evil disposition might prove -fatally contagious. But the thought of Josine's departure wrung Luc's -heart, and he felt slightly ashamed when he realised that he had only -shown so much warmth in seeking to retain Ragu at La Crêcherie because -he wished to retain her there. The thought that she would go back to -live amidst the filth of Old Beauclair, with that man who, relapsing -into his passion for drink, would assuredly treat her with violence, -was unbearable to Luc. He pictured her once more in the Rue des Trois -Lunes, in a filthy room, a prey to sordid, deadly misery; and he would -no longer be near to watch over her. Yet she was his now, and he would -have liked to have had her always with him in order to render her life -a happy one. On the following night she came back to see him, and -there was then a heart-rending scene between them: tears, vows, wild -suggestions and plans. But reason prevailed; it was needful that they -should accept facts as they were, if they did not wish to compromise -the success of the work which was now common to both of them. Josine -would follow Ragu, since she could not refuse to do so without raising -a dangerous scandal; whilst Luc at La Crêcherie would continue battling -for everybody's happiness in the conviction that victory would some -day unite them. They were strong, since love, the invincible, was with -them. She promised that she would come back to see him; nevertheless -how painful was the rending when she bade him good-bye, and when, on -the morrow, he saw her quit La Crêcherie, walking behind Ragu, who with -Bourron was pushing a little hand-cart containing their few chattels! - -Three days later Bourron followed Ragu, whom he had met each evening -at Caffiaux's wine-shop. His mate had joked to such a degree about the -'syrups' of the common-house, that he fancied he was acting as became -a free man when in his turn he again went to live in the Rue des Trois -Lunes. His wife, Babette, after at first attempting to prevent such -foolish conduct, ended by resigning herself to it with all her usual -gaiety. _Bah!_ things would go on right enough, for her husband was a -good fellow at bottom, and sooner or later would see things clearly. -Thereupon she laughed, and moved her goods, simply saying _au revoir_ -to her neighbours; for she could not believe that she would never -return to those pretty gardens which she had found so pleasant. She -particularly hoped to bring back her daughter, Marthe, and her son, -Sébastien, who were making so much progress at the schools. And, -Sœurette having spoken of keeping them there, she consented to it. - -However, the situation at La Crêcherie became yet worse, for other -workmen yielded to the contagion of bad example by taking themselves -off in the same fashion as Bourron and Ragu had done. They lacked -faith quite as much as love, and Luc found himself battling with human -bad will, cowardice, defection in various forms, such as one always -encounters when one works for the happiness of others. He felt that -even Bonnaire, always so reasonable and loyal, was secretly shaken. His -home was troubled by the daily quarrels picked by his wife, La Toupe, -whose vanity remained unsatisfied, for she had not yet been able to -buy either the silk gown or the watch which she had been coveting ever -since her youth. Besides, she was one of those women who regret that -they have not been born princesses; and thus ideas of equality and of -a community of interests angered her. She kept a hurricane perpetually -blowing in the house, rationed out Daddy Lunot's tobacco more gingerly -than ever, and was for ever hustling her children, Lucien and -Antoinette. Two more had been born to her, Zoé and Séverin, and this -again she regarded as a disaster, for ever complaining of it to her -husband. Bonnaire, however, remained very calm; he was accustomed to -those storms, and they simply saddened him. He did not even answer when -she shouted to him that he was a poor beast, a mere dupe, who would end -by leaving his bones at La Crêcherie. - -All the same Luc fully perceived that Bonnaire was scarcely with him. -The man never allowed himself to speak a word of censure, he remained -an active, punctual, conscientious worker, setting a good example to -all his mates. But, in spite of this, there was disapproval, almost -lassitude and discouragement, in his demeanour. Luc suffered greatly -from it; he felt something like despair on finding such a man, whose -heroism he knew and for whom he had so much esteem, drifting away so -soon. If he, Bonnaire, was losing faith, could it be that the work was -bad? - -They had an explanation on the subject one evening, whilst seated on a -bench at the door of the workshops. They had met just as the sun was -setting in a quiet sky, and, sitting down, they talked together. - -'It is quite true, monsieur,' said Bonnaire frankly, in reply to a -question from Luc, 'I have great doubts about your success. Besides, -you will remember that I never quite shared your ideas, and that your -attempt seemed to me regrettable on account of the concessions you -made. If I joined in it, it was, so to say, by way of experiment. -But the further things go the more I see that I wasn't wrong. The -experiment is made now, and something else, revolutionary action, will -have to be attempted.' - -'What! the experiment made!' exclaimed Luc. 'Why, we are only beginning -it! It will require years--several lifetimes possibly; it may be a -century-long effort of will and courage. And it is you, my friend, you -a man of energy and bravery, who begin to doubt at this stage?' - -As he spoke Luc gazed at Bonnaire, with his giant build, and broad, -peaceful face on which one read so much honest strength. But the man -gently shook his head. 'No, no,' said he, 'goodwill and courage will do -nothing. It's your method which is too gentle, which places too much -reliance on men's wisdom. Your association of capital, talent, and -work will go on always at a jog-trot, without establishing anything -substantial and final. The fact is the evil has reached such a degree -of abomination that one can only heal it by applying a red-hot iron.' - -'Then what ought one to do, my friend?' - -'It is necessary that the people should at once seize all the -implements of labour; it is necessary that it should dispossess the -_bourgeoise_ class and dispose of all the capital itself in order to -organise compulsory universal work.' - -Once more did Bonnaire explain his ideas. He had remained entirely -on the side of Collectivism, and Luc, who listened sorrowfully, felt -astonished that he had in no wise won over that thoughtful but rather -obtuse mind. Even as he had heard him speaking in the Rue des Trois -Lunes on the night when he had quitted the Abyss, so did he find him -speaking now, still holding to the same revolutionary conceptions, his -faith in no degree modified by the five years which he had spent at -La Crêcherie. He held evolution to be too slow, saying that progress -merely by association would demand far too many years for realisation; -and he was weary of such an attempt, and only believed in immediate and -violent revolution. - -'We shall never be given what we don't take,' said he by way of -conclusion. 'To have everything we must take everything.' - -Silence fell. The sun had set, and the night shifts had started work -in the resounding galleries. Luc, whilst listening to those renewed -efforts of labour, could feel an indescribable sadness stealing over -him as he foresaw that his work would be compromised by the eager haste -of even the best to bring about their social ideal. Indeed, was it not -often the furious battling of ideas which hindered and retarded the -realisation of facts? - -'I won't argue with you again, my friend,' he at last replied. 'I -don't think that any decisive revolution is possible or likely to give -good results in the circumstances in which we find ourselves. And I -am convinced that association and co-operation offer the preferable -road, one along which progress may be slow, but which will all the -same end by leading us to the promised city. We have often talked of -those matters without altogether agreeing. So what use would it be to -begin afresh and thereby sadden ourselves? One thing that I do hope of -you is, that in the difficulties through which we are passing you will -remain faithful to the enterprise we founded together.' - -Bonnaire made a sudden gesture of annoyance. 'Oh, Monsieur Luc!' he -exclaimed, 'have you doubted me? You know very well that I am not a -traitor, and that since you one day saved me from starving, I'm ready -to eat my dry bread with you as long as may be necessary. Don't be -anxious; I never say to others what I've just said to you; those are -matters between you and me. Naturally, I'm not going to discourage our -men here by announcing that we shall soon be ruined. We are associated, -and we will remain associated until the walls fall down on our heads.' - -Greatly moved, Luc pressed both his hands. And during the ensuing -week he witnessed a scene in the hall where the rolling-machinery was -installed, which touched him even more. He had been warned that two -or three wrong-headed fellows wished to follow Ragu's example and -carry off with them as many of their mates as possible. Just as he -was arriving to restore order, however, he saw Bonnaire intervening -vehemently in the midst of the mutineers. He thereupon stopped short -and listened. Bonnaire was saying precisely what it was requisite one -should say in such a difficulty, recalling the benefits that had come -from the works, and calming the anxiety of his mates by promises of -a better future, provided that they all worked bravely. He looked so -superb, so handsome, and spoke so well that the others speedily became -quiet. Influenced by the fact that one of themselves had used such -sensible arguments, none spoke any further of quitting the association; -and thus defection was stopped. Luc could never forget that spectacle -of Bonnaire pacifying his revolted comrades with the broad gestures of -a good giant, the courage of a hero of work, full of respect for freely -accepted toil. Since they were fighting for the happiness of all, he -would indeed have thought himself a coward had he deserted his post, -even though he was of opinion that they ought to have fought the battle -in another manner. - -When Luc, however, expressed his thanks he was again distressed by -this quiet reply. 'It was simple enough,' said Bonnaire; 'I merely did -what it was my duty to do. All the same, Monsieur Luc, I shall have to -bring you round to my ideas, for otherwise we shall all end by dying of -starvation here.' - -A few days later Luc's gloom was increased by another conversation. He -was coming down from the smeltery--with Bonnaire as it happened--when -the pair of them passed before the kilns of Lange the potter, who -obstinately clung to the narrow strip of land which had been left -him beside the rocky ridge of the Bleuse Mountains, and which he -had enclosed with a little wall of stones. In vain had Luc proposed -to take him on at La Crêcherie, offering him the management of -a crucible-making department which he had found it necessary to -establish. Lange's reply was that he wished to remain free 'without -either God or master.' So he continued dwelling in his wild den -and making common pottery, pans, stock-pots, and pitchers, which -he afterwards carted to the markets and fairs of the neighbouring -villages, he himself drawing the cart whilst Barefeet pushed it from -behind. That evening, as it happened, they were returning together from -one of their rounds when Luc and Bonnaire passed before their little -enclosure. - -'Well, Lange, is business prospering?' the young man cordially inquired. - -'Oh! always well enough to give us bread, Monsieur Luc. As you're -aware, that is all that I ask for,' answered Lange. - -Indeed, he only carted his wares about when bread was lacking in his -home. Throughout his spare time he lingered over pottery which was not -intended for sale, remaining for hours in contemplation of the things -he thus made, his eyes having the dreamy expression of those of some -rustic poet full of a passion to impart life to things. Even the coarse -goods which he fashioned, his very pans and stock-pots, displayed -a _naïveté_ and purity of lines, a proud and simple gracefulness -which bespoke poetic fancy. A son of the people, as he was, he had -instinctively lighted upon the old primitive popular beauty, that -beauty of the humble domestic utensil which arises from perfection of -proportions and absolute adaptability to the uses to which the utensil -is intended to be put. - -Luc was struck by that beauty on examining a few unsold pieces in -the little hand-cart. And the sight of Barefeet, that tall, dark, -comely girl, with the strong, slender limbs of a wrestler and the firm -bosom of an Amazon, likewise filled him with mingled admiration and -astonishment. - -'It is hard to push that along all day, isn't it?' he said to her. - -But she was a silent creature, and contented herself with smiling with -her big, wild eyes, whilst the potter answered in her stead: 'Oh! we -rest in the shade by the wayside when we come upon a spring,' said he. -'Things are all right, aren't they, Barefeet, and we are happy.' - -The young woman had turned her eyes on him, and they glowed with -boundless adoration, as for some beloved, powerful, benign master, a -saviour, a god. Then without a word she pushed the little hand-cart -into the enclosure and set it in place under a shed. - -Lange, on his side, had watched her with a glance of deep affection. -At times he feigned some roughness, as if he still regarded her as a -mere gipsy picked up by the wayside, But truth to tell she was now the -mistress. He loved her with a passion which he did not confess, which -he hid beneath the demeanour of an uncouth peasant. In point of fact -that thick-set little man with square-shaped head, bushy with a tangle -of hair and beard, was of a very gentle and amorous nature. - -All at once, again turning towards Luc, whom he affected to treat as -a 'comrade,' he said to him in his rough, frank way: 'Well, isn't -everybody's happiness getting on, then? Aren't those idiots who consent -to shut themselves up in your barracks willing to be happy in the -fashion you want?' - -Each time that he met Luc he thus jeered at the attempt at Fourierist -Communism which was being made at La Crêcherie. And as the young man -contented himself with smiling, he added: 'I'm hoping that before -another six months have gone by you'll be with us, the Anarchists. I -tell you once again that everything is rotten, and that the only thing -is to blow old society to pieces with bombs!' - -At this Bonnaire, hitherto silent, abruptly intervened. 'Oh! with -bombs--that's idiotic!' - -He, a pure Collectivist, was not in favour of crime, so called -'propaganda by deeds,' although he believed in the necessity of a -general and violent revolution. - -'What, idiotic?' cried Lange, who felt hurt. 'Do you imagine that -if the _bourgeois_ are not properly prepared for it your famous -socialisation of the instruments of labour will ever take place? It's -your disguised Capitalism which is idiotic. Just begin by destroying -everything so as to have the ground clear for building up things -properly.' - -They went on arguing, the Anarchism of one contending with the -Collectivism of the other, and Luc remained listening to them. The -distance between Lange and Bonnaire, he noticed, was as great as the -distance between Bonnaire and himself. By the extreme bitterness -of their dispute one might have taken them to be men of different -races, hereditary enemies, ready to devour one another, and beyond all -possibility of agreement. Yet they desired the very same happiness -for one and all, they met at the very same point: justice, peace, and -a reorganisation of work giving bread and joy to all. But what fury, -what aggressive, deadly hatred became manifest on either side as soon -as there was a question of agreeing on the means to be employed to -attain that end! All along the rough road of progress at each halt the -brothers on the march, one and all inflamed by the same desire for -enfranchisement, waged bloody battles together on the simple question -whether they would do best to turn to the right or to the left. - -'After all each of us is his own master,' Lange ended by declaring. 'Go -to sleep in your _bourgeoise_ niche, if it amuses you, mate. I know -what I myself have got to do. They are getting on, they are getting on, -those little presents of mine, those little pots which we shall deposit -some fine morning at the sub-prefect's, the mayor's, the judge's, and -the parson's. Isn't that so, Barefeet? We shall have a fine round that -morning! Ah! shan't we push our cart on gaily?' - -The tall and beautiful girl had now returned to the threshold, and -stood out sculpturally, in sovereign fashion amongst the ruddy clay of -the little enclosure. Her eyes again blazed, and she smiled like one -who is all submission, ready to follow her master to the point of crime. - -'She belongs to it, mate,' added Lange in all simplicity. 'She helps -me.' - -When Luc and Bonnaire had quitted him, without any show of animosity -on either side, though they agreed together so little, they walked on -for a few moments in silence. Then Bonnaire felt a desire to renew his -argument and demonstrate yet once again that no salvation was possible -outside of the Collectivist faith. He anathematised the Anarchists, -even as he anathematised the Fourierists--the latter because they did -not immediately possess themselves of the capital, now in the hands of -the _bourgeois_, the former because they suppressed it by violence; and -it again appeared to Luc that reconciliation would only be possible -when the future community should be founded, for then, in presence of -the realisation of the common dream, all sects would necessarily be -contented. But what a long road yet remained to be travelled, and how -grievously he feared lest his brothers should devour one another on the -way! - -He returned home saddened by all that constant clashing which impeded -the progress of his work. No sooner, apparently, had two men resolved -to act than they began to disagree. Then, on finding himself alone, the -cry which ever inflated Luc's heart burst forth from him: 'But they do -not love! If they loved, all would prove fruitful and grow and triumph -in the sunlight!' - -Morfain was also now causing the young man a deal of worry. In vain had -he tried to civilise the smelter by offering him one of the gay little -houses of La Crêcherie if he would only quit his cave in the rocks. The -other stubbornly refused, on the pretext that up yonder he was near his -work and able to watch over it unceasingly. Luc had now confided to him -the whole management of the smeltery, which worked on in the ancient -fashion, pending the invention of those electrical furnaces which -Jordan, never wearying, was still striving to devise. - -However, the real cause of Morfain's obstinacy in refusing to come -down and dwell among the men peopling the new town was the disdain, -the hatred almost, with which he regarded them. He who personified -the Vulcan of the primitive days, a tamer of fire, later on crushed -down by prolonged slavery, toiling with heroic resignation, and ending -by loving the sombre grandeur of the inferno in which fate kept him, -felt irritated with those new works where toilers were to become -gentlemen, using their arms but sparingly, since they would be replaced -by machinery, which mere children would soon know how to drive. That -desire to toil as little as possible, to cease battling personally with -fire and iron, seemed to Morfain abject and wretched. He could not even -understand it, but simply shrugged his shoulders whenever he thought of -it during his long days of silence. And, alone and proud, he remained -on his mountain-ridge reigning over the smeltery and looking down upon -the new works, which the dazzling flow of liquid metal crowned as with -flames four times every four-and-twenty hours. - -But there was yet another reason which angered Morfain with those new -times which he wished to ignore; and this was a reason which must have -made the heart of the taciturn smelter bleed frightfully. Ma-Bleue, his -daughter, whose blue eyes were to him like the blue of heaven, that -tall and beautiful creature, who since her mother's death had worked -as the well-loved housewife of the wild home, had become _enceinte_. -Morfain flew into a rage when he discovered it, and then forgave her, -saying to himself that she would assuredly some day have got married. -But forgiveness was suddenly recalled, and became impossible when his -daughter gave him her lover's name--that of Achille Gourier, the son -of the mayor of Beauclair. The intrigue had been going on for years -now, amidst the evening breezes, under the starry sky, along the paths -of the Bleuse Mountains, and over their rocks and patches of thyme and -lavender. Achille, breaking off all intercourse with his family, like -a young _bourgeois_ whom the _bourgeoisie_ bored and disgusted, had at -last begged Luc to take him on at La Crêcherie, where he had become -a designer. He thus severed every tie connecting him with his former -life; he lived as he listed, resolved to toil for her whom he had -chosen, like a scion of the old condemned social system whom evolution -led towards the new age. What angered Morfain to such a point that -he drove his daughter from home was precisely the fact that she had -suffered herself to be led astray by a _monsieur_, in such wise that -to him there seemed naught but rebellion and devilry in her conduct. -The whole antique edifice must be tumbling to pieces since so good -and beautiful a girl had shaken it by listening to, and perhaps even -angling for, the son of the mayor. - -As Ma-Bleue, on being turned out of doors, naturally sought a refuge -with Achille, Luc was compelled to intervene. The young people did not -even speak of marriage. What was the use of any such ceremony since -they were quite sure that they loved one another, and would never part? -Besides, in order to get married Achille would have had to address -'judicial summonses' to his father; and this seemed to him useless and -vexatious trouble. In vain did Sœurette insist on the matter, in the -idea that morality and the good repute of La Crêcherie still required -that there should be a legal marriage. Luc ended by prevailing on her -to close her eyes, for he felt that with the new generations one would -be gradually compelled to accept the principle of free union. - -Morfain, however, did not consent to the position so readily, and Luc -had to go up one evening to reason with him. Since he had driven his -daughter away the master-smelter lived alone with his son, Petit-Da, -and between them they cooked their meals, and attended to the various -household duties in their rocky cave. That evening, after partaking of -some soup, they had remained seated on their stools at the roughly-hewn -table which they had made themselves, while the little lamp which -lighted them threw the shadows of their burly figures upon the smoky -stone walls. - -'Yet the world advances, father,' Petit-Da was saying. 'One can't -remain motionless.' - -Morfain banged his fist on the table and made it shake. 'I lived as my -father lived,' said he, 'and your duty is to live as I do.' - -As a rule the two men scarcely exchanged four words a day. But for some -time past a feeling of uneasiness had been growing up between them, and -although they did all they could to avert it, disputes sometimes arose. -The son, who could read and write, was being more and more affected -by the evolution of the times, which penetrated even to the depths -of the mountain gorges. And the father, in his proud and stubborn -determination to remain merely a strong toiler, able to subjugate fire -and conquer iron, indulged in sorrowful outbursts, as if his race were -degenerating through all the science and useless ideas of the new era. - -'If your sister hadn't read books and hadn't busied herself about what -went on down below, she'd still be with us,' said he. 'Ah! it was that -new town, that cursed town, that took her from us!' - -This time he did not strike the table, but thrust his fist through the -open doorway, into the dark night, towards La Crêcherie, whose lights -twinkled like stars below the rocky ridge. - -Petit-Da did not answer, in part from a sense of respect, in part -because he felt embarrassed, for he knew that his father had been -displeased with him ever since meeting him one day with Honorine, the -daughter of Caffiaux, the tavern-keeper. Honorine, short, slender, and -dark, with a gay wide-awake face, had fallen passionately in love with -that gentle young giant; and he for his part thought her charming. In -the discussion which had broken out that evening between the father and -the son, the question at bottom was really one of Honorine. And thus -the direct attack which Petit-Da had all along anticipated ended by -coming. - -'And you,' suddenly said his father, 'when are you going to leave me?' - -This idea of a separation seemed to upset Petit-Da. 'Why, do you want -me to leave you, father?' he asked. - -'Oh, when a girl's in question there can only be quarrels and ruin. And -besides, what girl have you chosen? Will her people even let you have -her? Is there any sense in such marriages, which mix one class with -another, and turn the world topsy-turvy? It's the end of everything. -I've lived too long.' - -Gently and tenderly his son strove to pacify him. The young man did -not deny his love for Honorine. Only he spoke like a sensible lad, who -was resolved to remain patient as long as might be necessary. They -would see about the matter later on. Nevertheless, when he and the -girl chanced to meet what harm could there be in wishing one another a -friendly good day? Although folks might not be of the same position, -that did not always prevent them from caring for one another. And even -if different classes were to mingle a little, would that not have its -good side, since they would thus learn to know each other and esteem -each other more? - -Morfain, however, full of wrath and bitterness, did not listen to those -arguments. He suddenly rose up, and with a great tragic wave of his -arm under the rocky ceiling which his head almost touched, he replied: -'Be off! be off as soon as you like! Do as your sister has done! Spit -on everything that's respectable, leap into shamelessness and madness. -You are no longer my children, I no longer recognise you; somebody has -changed you! So leave me here alone in this wild den, where I hope the -rocks will soon fall down on me and crush me to death!' - -Luc, at that moment just arriving, paused on the threshold and heard -those last words. He was greatly affected by them, for he held Morfain -in much esteem. For a long time he reasoned with him. But the smelter, -on the arrival of the young man whom he regarded as a master, had -forced back his grief to become once more a mere workman, a submissive -subordinate with no thoughts beyond his duties. He did not even allow -himself to judge Luc, although the latter was the primary cause of the -abominations which were upsetting the region and causing him so much -pain. The masters after all had a right to act as they pleased, and it -was for the workmen to remain honest and do their work as their elders -had done it before them. - -'Do not be alarmed, Monsieur Luc,' he said, 'if I happen to have some -ideas of my own, and get angry when I find them thwarted. It seldom -happens, for you know that I'm no talker. And you may be quite sure -that the work does not suffer from it; for I always keep one eye open, -and no metal is ever run out otherwise than in my presence. After all, -when one's heart is full one works all the harder. Isn't that so?' - -Then, however, as Luc again strove to make peace in that unhappy -family, ravaged by the evolution of which he had made himself the -apostle, the master-smelter all but flew into a passion once more. - -'No, no, that's enough, let me be! If you came up, Monsieur Luc, to -speak to me about Ma-Bleue you did wrong, because that's the very way -to make things worse. Let her stop where she is, while I stop where I -am!' - -Then, desirous of changing the conversation, he brusquely gave Luc some -bad news, which indeed had largely brought about his fit of ill-temper. - -'I should probably have gone down to you by-and-by,' he said, 'for I -wanted to tell you that I went to the mine again this morning, and that -we've again been disappointed in our hope of finding the rich vein. -Yet I could have sworn that it would certainly be met at the end of -the gallery I indicated. What would you have? An evil spell seems to -have been cast over all we have undertaken for some time past. Nothing -succeeds!' - -Those words resounded in Luc's ears like the knell of his great hopes. -He lingered for a moment talking with the father and the son, and then -went down the hillside again, overcome by bitter sadness, and wondering -upon what ever-increasing mass of ruins he would have to found his city. - -Even at La Crêcherie he encountered reasons for discouragement. -Sœurette still received Abbé Marle, Schoolmaster Hermeline, and -Doctor Novarre, and it apparently gave her so much pleasure to have -her friend Luc to lunch on those occasions that he dared not decline -her invitations, in spite of the secret discomfort into which he was -thrown by the everlasting disputes of the schoolmaster and the priest. -Sœurette, whose mind was at peace, did not suffer from them, and even -thought that they interested Luc; whilst Jordan, wrapped in his rugs -and dreaming of some experiment which he had begun, seemed to listen -with a vague smile. - -One Tuesday, after they had risen from table, the dispute in the -little drawing-room became exceptionally violent. Hermeline had -tackled Luc with respect to the education which was being given to the -children at La Crêcherie; he spoke of the boys and girls mingling in -the five classes, of the long intervals of play that were allowed, and -of the numerous hours spent in the workshops. This new school, where -methods diametrically opposed to his own were pursued, had robbed him -of several of his own pupils, a thing which he could not forgive. And -his angular face, with its long brow and thin lips, turned pale with -suppressed rage at the idea that anybody could believe otherwise than -himself. - -'I might consent to see those boys and girls brought up together,' said -he, 'though it seems to me scarcely proper, for they already evince -an abundance of evil instincts when the sexes are separated, and the -extraordinary idea of uniting them can only pervert them the more. -But what I hold to be inadmissible is that the master's authority is -destroyed and discipline reduced to nothingness. Did you not tell me -that each pupil followed his own bent, applied himself to those studies -which pleased him, and was free to argue about his lessons? You call -that raising energy, it seems. But what can those studies be when the -pupils are always at play, when books are held in contempt, when the -master's word ceases to be infallible, and when the time not spent -in the garden is spent in workshops, planing wood or filing iron? A -manual calling is a good thing to learn, no doubt; but there is a time -for everything, and the first thing is to force as much grammar and -arithmetic as possible into the brains of all those idlers!' - -Luc had ceased arguing, weary as he was of coming into collision with -the stubborn uncompromising views of that sectarian, who having decreed -a dogma of progress according to his own lights refused to stir from -it. Thus the young man quietly contented himself with replying: 'Yes, -we think it necessary to render the pupils' work attractive, to change -classical studies into constant lessons of things, and our object above -all else is to create will, to create men!' - -Hermeline thereupon exploded: 'Well, do you know what you will create?' -he cried. 'You will create so many _déclassés_, so many rebels! There -is only one way to give citizens to the State, and that is to make -them expressly for it, such as it needs them in order to be strong and -glorious. Thence comes the necessity for discipline and a system of -education preparing, according to the programmes which are recognised -as the best, the workmen, the professional men, and the functionaries -which the country needs. Outside the pale of authority there is -no certainty. For my part I am an old republican, a free-thinker, -an atheist. Nobody, I hope, will ever picture me as a man with a -retrograde mind; and yet your system of education sets me beside -myself, because in half a century, with such a system of work, there -would be no more citizens, no more soldiers, no more patriots. Yes, -indeed, I defy you to make soldiers of your so-called free men; and in -that case how could the country defend itself in the event of war?' - -'No doubt, in the event of war, it would be necessary to defend it,' -answered Luc, unmoved. 'But of what use will soldiers be some day, -if men no longer fight? You talk like Captain Jollivet writes in the -"Journal de Beauclair," when he accuses us of being traitors--men -without a country.' - -This touch of sarcasm, although slight, brought Hermeline's anger -to a climax. 'Captain Jollivet is an idiot for whom I feel nothing -but contempt,' said he. 'But it is none the less true that you are -preparing a disorderly generation, in rebellion against the State, and -one which would assuredly lead the Republic to the worst catastrophes.' - -'All liberty, all truth, all justice are catastrophes,' said Luc, again -smiling. - -But Hermeline went on drawing a frightful picture of to-morrow's social -system, if indeed the schools should cease to turn out citizens on a -given pattern for the needs of his authoritarian republic. There would -be no more political discipline, no more government possible, no more -sovereignty of the State, but in lieu thereof would come disorderly -license, leading to the worst forms of corruption and debauchery. And -all at once Abbé Marle, who had been listening and nodding his head -approvingly, could not resist an impulse to exclaim, 'Ah! yes, you are -quite right, and all that is put very well indeed!' - -His broad, full face, with its regular features and aquiline nose, -was radiant with delight at that furious attack upon the new society, -in which he felt his Deity would be condemned, regarded simply as the -historical idol of a dead religion. He himself, each Sunday in the -pulpit, brought forward the same accusations, prophesied the same -disasters as Hermeline. But he was scarcely listened to, his church -became emptier every day, and he felt deep, unacknowledged grief -thereat, confining himself more and more, as his sole consolation, -within his narrow doctrines. Never had he shown himself more attached -to the letter of dogma, never had he inflicted severer penance on his -penitents, as if indeed he were desirous that the _bourgeois_ world, -over whose rottenness he threw the cloak of religion, might at least -show a brave demeanour when it was submerged. On the day when his -church would fall, he at any rate would be at his altar, and would -finish his last mass beneath the ruins. - -'It is quite true,' said he to Hermeline, 'that the reign of Satan is -near at hand, what with all those lads and girls brought up together, -every evil passion let loose, authority destroyed, the kingdom of God -set, not in Heaven, but on earth as in the time of the pagans. The -picture that you have drawn of it all is so correct that I myself could -add nothing stronger.' - -Embarrassed at being thus praised by the priest, with whom he never -agreed on anything, the schoolmaster suddenly became silent, and gazed -at the lawns of the park as if he did not hear. - -'But,' resumed Abbé Marle, addressing himself this time to Luc, 'apart -from the demoralising education given in your schools, there is one -thing that I cannot pardon, which is that you have turned the Divinity -out of doors, and have voluntarily neglected to build a church in the -centre of your new town, among so many handsome and useful edifices. -Do you pretend then that you can live without God? No State hitherto -has been able to do so. A religion has always been necessary for the -government of men.' - -'I pretend nothing,' Luc replied. 'Each man is free with respect to -his belief, and if no church has been built it is because none of us -has yet felt the need of one. But one can be built should there be -faithful to attend it. It will always be allowable for a group of -citizens to meet together for such satisfactions as may please them. -And with regard to the necessity of a religion, that is indeed a -real necessity when one desires to govern men. But we do not desire -to govern them at all; on the contrary, we wish them to live free in -the free city. Let me tell you, Monsieur l'Abbé, it is not we who are -destroying Catholicism, it is destroying itself, it is dying slowly of -old age, like all religions, after accomplishing their historical task, -necessarily die at the hour indicated by human evolution. Science -destroys all dogmas one by one; the religion of humanity is born and -will conquer the world. What is the use of a Catholic church at La -Crêcherie, since yours at Beauclair is already too large, growing more -and more deserted, and destined one of these days to topple over?' - -The priest was very pale, but he would not understand. With the -stubbornness of a believer who places his strength in affirmation -without reason or proof, he contented himself with repeating: 'If God -is not with you, your defeat is certain. Believe me, build a church.' - -Hermeline was unable to restrain himself any longer. The priest's words -of praise were still suffocating him, particularly as they had been -followed by that declaration of the necessity of a religion. 'Ah, no! -ah, no, Abbé!' he shouted, 'no church, please! I make no concealment -of the fact that matters are hardly organised in the new town in -accordance with my tastes. But if there is one thing that I approve, -it is certainly the relinquishment of any State religion. Govern men? -Why yes, only instead of the priests in their churches, it is we, the -citizens in our municipal buildings, who will govern them. As for the -churches, they will be turned into public granaries, barns for the -crops!' - -Then as Abbé Marle, losing his temper, declared that he would not allow -sacrilegious language to be used in his presence, the dispute became -so bitter that Doctor Novarre, as usual, was forced to intervene. He -had hitherto listened to the others with his shrewd air, like a gentle -and somewhat sceptical man who was not put out by any words, however -violent, that might be exchanged. However, he fancied he could detect -that the dispute was beginning to pain Sœurette. - -'Come, come!' said he, 'you almost agree, since both of you put the -churches to use. The Abbé will always be able to say mass provided he -leaves a little space in his church for the fruits of the earth, in -years of great abundance.' Then the doctor went on to speak of a new -rose that he had just raised, a superb flower, its outer petals very -white and pure, and its heart warmed by a pronounced flush of carmine. -He had brought a bunch of the flowers, which had been placed in a -vase on the table, and Sœurette looking at it smiled once more at the -sight of that florescence all charm and perfume, though she still felt -saddened and tired by the violence which nowadays marked the quarrels -attending her Tuesday lunches. If things went on in that fashion, it -would soon be impossible for them to see one another. - -And it was only now that Jordan emerged from his reverie. He had -not ceased to appear attentive, as if indeed he were listening to -the others. But he made a remark which showed how far away his mind -had been. 'Do you know,' exclaimed he, 'that a learned electrician -in America has succeeded in storing enough solar heat to produce -electricity?' - -When the priest, the schoolmaster, and the doctor had departed and Luc -found himself alone with the Jordans profound silence fell. The thought -of all the poor men who tore one another and crushed one another in -their blind struggle for happiness rent the young man's heart. As time -went by, seeing with what difficulty one worked for the common weal, -having to contend against the revolts even of those whom one worked to -save, Luc was sometimes seized with discouragement which he would not -as yet confess, but which left both his limbs and his mind strengthless -as after some great useless exertion. For a moment his will would -capsize and seem on the point of sinking. And again that day he raised -his cry of distress: 'But they don't love! If they loved all would -prove fruitful, all would grow and triumph in the sunlight!' - -A few days later, one autumn morning, at a very early hour, Sœurette -experienced a terrible heart-blow which threw her into the greatest -anguish. She invariably rose betimes, and that morning she was going to -give some orders at a dairy which she had established for the infants -of her _créche_, when, as she went along the terrace which ended at -the pavilion occupied by Luc, it occurred to her to glance down at the -road which the terrace overlooked. And precisely at that moment the -door of the pavilion opening into the road was set ajar, and she saw a -woman steal out, a woman of slender form, who immediately afterwards -disappeared amidst the pinkish morning mist. Nevertheless Sœurette had -time to recognise her: it was Josine, leaving Luc at break of day. - -Since Ragu's departure from La Crêcherie Josine, indeed, had returned -to see Luc every now and then. On this occasion she had come to tell -him that she should not again return, for she feared lest she might -be surprised when leaving her home or returning thither by some of -her inquisitive neighbours. Moreover, the idea of lying and hiding -herself in order to join the man whom she regarded as a god had become -so painful to her that she preferred to await the day when she might -proclaim her love aloud. Luc, understanding her, had resigned himself -to this separation; but how full of passion and despair was their hour -of farewell! They lingered there, exchanging vows, and the daylight -had already come when Josine was at last able to tear herself away. -Only the morning mist in some degree veiled her flitting, though not -sufficiently to prevent Jordan's sister from recognising her. - -Sœurette, in the shock of her discovery, had stopped short, rooted to -the spot, as if she saw the earth opening before her. Such was her -agitation, such a buzzing filled her ears, that at first she could not -reason. She forgot that she was going to the dairy to give an order, -and all at once she fled, retracing her steps at a run, returning -to the house and climbing wildly to her room, the door of which she -locked behind her. And then she flung herself upon her bed, striving -to cover both her eyes and her ears with her hands, so that she might -see and hear nothing more. She did not weep, she had not recovered full -consciousness as yet, but a feeling of awful desolation, blended with -boundless fright, filled her being. - -Why did she suffer thus, why did she feel such a rending within her? -She had hitherto thought herself to be simply Luc's affectionate -friend, his disciple and helper, one who was passionately devoted to -the work which he was striving to accomplish. Yet now she was all -aglow, shaken by burning fever, and this because her eyes could ever -picture that other woman quitting him at daybreak. Did she love Luc -then? And had she only become conscious of it on the day when it was -too late for her to win his love? That, indeed, was the disaster: to -learn in such a brutal fashion that she loved, and that another already -possessed the heart over which she might perchance have reigned like -some all-powerful, beloved queen. All the rest vanished: she recalled -neither how her love had sprung up, nor how it had grown, nor how -it was that she had remained ignorant of it, artless still in her -thirtieth year, happy simply in the enjoyment of affectionate intimacy, -untouched till now by passion's dart. Her tears gushed forth at last, -and she sobbed over her discovery, over the sudden obstacle which had -risen to part her from the man to whom unknowingly she had given both -heart and soul. And now naught but the knowledge of her love existed -for her; and she asked herself, What should she do--how should she -succeed in making herself loved? For it seemed impossible that she -should not be loved in return, since she herself loved and would never -cease to love. Now that her love was known to her, it began to consume -her heart, and she felt that she would no longer be able to live unless -it were shared. At the same time all remained confusion within her, -she struggled amidst vague and contradictory thoughts, obscure plans, -like a woman who, despite her years, has remained childish and suddenly -finds herself confronted by the torturing realities of life. - -Long must she have remained striving to annihilate herself, with her -face close pressed to her pillow. The sun climbed the heavens, the -morning sped on; and yet in her increasing distress she could devise no -practical solution for the problem that tortured her. Ever and ever did -the haunting questions come back: how would she manage to say that she -loved, and how would she manage to secure love in return? All at once, -however, she bethought herself of her brother. It was in him that she -must confide, since he alone really knew her--knew that her heart had -never lied. He was a man, he would surely understand her, and he would -teach her what it is meet for one to do when a craving for happiness -possesses one. Accordingly, without reasoning any further, she sprang -off her bed and went downstairs to the laboratory, like a child who has -at last discovered a solution for its grief. - -That morning Jordan himself had experienced a disastrous check. Of -recent months he had believed that he had devised a safe and cheap -system for the transport of electric force. He burnt coal beside the -pit it came from, and he carried electricity over long distances -without the slightest loss of power, in such wise as to lessen cost -price considerably. He had given four years of study to that problem -amidst all the recurring ailments to which his puny frame was subject. -He made the best use possible of his weak health, sleeping a great -deal, wrapped round with rugs, and then methodically employing the few -hours which he was able to wrest from his unkind mother Nature. For -fear of disturbing his studies, the crisis through which La Crêcherie -was passing had been hidden from him. He thought that things were -going on satisfactorily at the works, and, besides, it was out of the -question for him to take any interest in such matters, cloistered as he -was in his laboratory, absorbed in his work, apart from which nothing -seemed to exist in the whole world. That very morning at an early -hour he had resumed his studies, feeling his mind to be quite clear, -and wishing to profit by it, in order to make a last experiment. And -that experiment had absolutely failed; he found himself confronted by -an unforeseen obstacle, some error in his calculations, some detail -which he had neglected, and which suddenly became important and -all-destructive, indefinitely postponing the solution that he had long -sought with respect to his electrical furnaces. - -It was the downfall of his hopes: so much hard work had yielded -nothing, so much more of it would be necessary! Yet he remained calm, -and had just wrapped himself in his rugs again, and ensconced himself -in the arm-chair in which he spent so many hours, when his sister came -into the laboratory. She looked so pale, so greatly distressed, that -he immediately felt anxious on her account, he who had witnessed the -failure of his experiment with unruffled brow, like a man whom nothing -can discourage. - -'What is the matter, my dear?' he asked her; 'are you not well?' - -Her confession in no wise embarrassed her. Without any hesitation, like -a poor creature whose heart opens with a sob, she said: 'The matter, -brother dear, is that I love Luc, and that he does not love me. Ah! I -am very unhappy!' - -Then, simple and artless, she told her brother the whole story--how she -had seen Josine leaving the pavilion, and how she had then felt such -a heart-pang that she had come in search of consolation and cure: she -loved Luc, and Luc did not love her! - -Jordan listened in a state of stupefaction, as if she had apprised him -of some unexpected, extraordinary cataclysm. - -'You love Luc! you love Luc!' he repeated. 'Love, why love?' The -thought that love possessed that fondly treasured sister whom he had -always seen beside him like his second self, filled him with amazement. -He had never thought that she might some day love, and from that cause -become unhappy. Love was a craving of which he himself knew nothing, a -sphere into which he had never entered. And thus, artless and ignorant -as he himself was, his embarrassment became extreme. - -'Oh! tell me, brother, why does Luc love that Josine, why does he not -love me?' Sœurette repeated. She was sobbing now. She had wound her -arms around her brother's neck, resting her head upon his shoulder, so -weighed down by distress that he was utterly distracted. And yet what -could he say to console her? - -'I don't know, little sister; I don't know,' he answered. 'No doubt -he loves her because it is his nature to love. There can be no other -reason. He would love you if he had loved you the first.' - -There was truth in this. Luc loved Josine because she was an _amorosa_, -a woman of charm and passion, whom he had found suffering, and who had -kindled into flame all the love of his heart. And besides, beauty was -hers, with the passion which peoples the world. - -'But, brother,' said Sœurette, 'he knew me before he knew her, so why -did he not love me first?' - -More and more embarrassed by these questions, Jordan anxiously sought -for delicate and kindly words: 'Perhaps,' he answered, 'it was because -he lived here like a friend, a brother. He has become a brother for you -and me.' - -Whilst speaking thus, Jordan looked at his sister, and this time he -did not tell her all that he thought. He observed her resemblance to -himself. She was so slender, so frail, so insignificant. She did not -represent love; she was too pale and puny. Charming no doubt, very -gentle and very kind; but then, ever clad in black, sombre-looking and -sad, as are all the silent and devoted ones. For Luc she had never been -aught but an intelligent and a benevolent creature. - -'You will understand, little sister,' Jordan presently resumed, 'that -if he has become as it were your brother and mine, he cannot love you -in the same way as he loves Josine. Such a thing would not have entered -his mind. But none the less I am sure that he loves you a great deal; -he loves you indeed all the more, as much in fact as I myself love you.' - -But Sœurette would not admit it. Her whole being protested dolorously, -and amidst a fresh explosion of sobs she cried her distress aloud: 'No, -no; he does not love me the more; he does not love me at all! To love -a woman as a brother! what is that when I suffer as I am suffering -now that I see him lost to me? If I knew naught of all those things a -little while ago, at least I divine them now, and I feel as if I should -die--yes, die!' - -Like herself, Jordan was becoming more and more distressed, and only -with difficulty was he able to restrain his tears. 'Little sister, -little sister,' said he, 'you grieve me deeply. It is scarcely -reasonable of you to make yourself ill like this. I no longer recognise -you. You are usually so calm and sensible, and you are well aware what -firmness of spirit one ought to evince in order to resist the worries -of life.' - -Then he wished to reason with her. 'Come,' he said, 'you have no -reproach to address to Luc?' - -'Oh! none. I know that he has a great deal of affection for me. We are -very good friends,' she answered plaintively. - -'Then you must not complain. He loves you as he is able to love, and -you do wrong in getting angry with him.' - -'But I am not angry! I have no hate for anybody; I only suffer.' - -Again did her sobs burst forth; again did distress master her, and -wring from her lips the cry: 'Why does he not love me? Why does he not -love me?' - -'If he does not love you as you desire to be loved, little sister,' -said Jordan, 'it is because he does not know you well enough. No, he -does not know you as I do; he does not know that you are the best, -the gentlest, the most devoted and affectionate of women. You would -have been a fit companion and helper; the one that makes life's -pathway softer and easier. But the other came with her beauty, and -that assuredly was a powerful force, since he followed her without -perceiving you, and this although you already loved him. Come, my dear, -you must resign yourself.' - -He had taken her in his arms, and he kissed her hair. But she still -went on struggling. - -'No! no! I cannot.' - -'Yes, you will resign yourself; you are too good, too intelligent to do -otherwise. Some day you will forget.' - -'No! Never!' - -'I did wrong to say that; I will not ask you to forget. Keep the -memory of it in your heart. But I do ask you to be resigned, because -I well know that you are capable of resignation, even to the point of -sacrifice. Think of all the disasters which would follow if you were -to rebel--to speak out! Our life would be broken up, our enterprises -shattered, and you would suffer a thousand times more than you do now.' - -She interrupted him, quivering: 'Well, let our life be broken up! let -our enterprises be shattered! At least I shall have satisfied myself. -It is cruel of you, brother, to speak to me like that. You are an -egotist!' - -'An egotist!' replied Jordan. 'When I am only thinking of you, my dear -little sister. At this moment grief is turning your wonted kindliness -to exasperation. But how bitter would be your remorse if I were to -allow you to destroy everything! You would no longer be able to live in -presence of the ruins that you would have piled up. Poor, dear girl! -you will resign yourself, and find happiness in abnegation and pure -affection.' - -Tears were choking him, and their sobs mingled. That battle between -brother and sister, both so artless and so loving, was fraught with the -most exquisite fraternal affection. In a tone of intense compassion, -blended with boundless kindliness, Jordan repeated: 'You will resign -yourself; you will resign yourself.' - -She still protested, but like one who is surrendering. Her moan now was -that of a poor, stricken creature whose hurt one strives to soothe: -'Oh, no! I cannot, I do not resign myself.' - - * * * * * - -As it happened, Luc that very day was to take _déjeuner_ with the -Jordans, and when at half-past eleven he joined the brother and sister -in the laboratory, he found them still agitated, with red, blurred -eyes. But he himself was so distressed, so downcast, that he noticed -nothing. Josine's farewell, the necessity of that separation, filled -him with despair. The severance of the love which he deemed essential -for his mission seemed to deprive him of his last strength. If he did -not save Josine he would never save the unhappy multitude to whom he -had given his heart. And that day, from the moment of rising, all the -obstacles which hindered his advance had risen up before him like -insurmountable impediments. A black vision of La Crêcherie had appeared -to him. La Crêcherie on the path to ruin, wrecked already, to such a -point indeed that it was madness to hope to save it. Men devoured one -another there; it had been impossible to establish brotherly accord -between them; every human fatality weighed upon the enterprise. And -thus, bowed down by the most frightful discouragement he had ever -known, Luc lost his faith. The heroism within him wavered; he was -almost on the point of renouncing his task, fearing as he did that -defeat was near at hand. - -Sœurette noticed his perturbation directly she saw him, and, with -divine solicitude, she expressed her anxiety: 'Are you not well, my -friend?' she asked him. - -'No, I do not feel well,' he answered. 'I spent an awful morning. I -have heard of nothing but misfortunes since I rose.' - -She did not insist, but gazed at him with increasing anxiety, wondering -what his sufferings could be, since he loved and was loved in return. -To hide in some slight degree her own intense emotion, she had seated -herself at her little table, and pretended to be writing out some notes -for her brother; whilst the latter, who now seemed overwhelmed, again -lay back in his arm-chair. - -'In that case, my good Luc,' said he, 'none of us is any better off -than the others; for if I felt well enough when I got up this morning, -I have since had no end of worry.' - -For a moment Luc walked about the room, silent, with a frown upon -his face. He came and went, pausing at times before one of the large -windows to glance over La Crêcherie, the budding town, whose roofs -spread out before him. At last, unable to restrain his despair any -longer, he exploded: 'I must speak out, my friend. I owe you the truth. -We did not wish to worry you in the midst of your researches, and we -have hitherto hidden from you the fact that things are going on very -badly at La Crêcherie. Our men are leaving us; disunion and revolt have -sprung up among them, the fruit of egotism and hatred. All Beauclair -is rising against us, the traders, and even the workmen themselves, -whose long-acquired habits we interfere with; and thus our position is -day by day becoming more and more disquieting. I don't know if I see -things in too gloomy a light this morning, but they appear to me to be -beyond cure. Everything seems to be lost, and I cannot hide from you -any longer that we are going towards a catastrophe.' - -Jordan listened with an expression of astonishment, though he remained -very calm. He even smiled slightly: 'Are you not exaggerating things a -little, my friend?' said he. - -'Suppose that I am exaggerating; suppose that ruin will not actually -fall on us to-morrow, none the less I should be acting wrongly if -I failed to tell you that I fear ruin is approaching. When I asked -you for your land and your money, to undertake that work of social -salvation which I dreamt of, did I not promise you not only the -accomplishment of something great and beautiful, worthy of a man like -you, but also a good investment? And now it appears that I did not -speak the truth, for your money is likely to be swallowed up in the -disaster. Is it not natural therefore that I should be haunted by -remorse?' - -Jordan tried to interrupt him by waving his hand, as if to say that the -pecuniary question was of no importance. But Luc continued: 'It is not -merely a question of the large sums which have already been swallowed -up; more money is, each day, becoming necessary to continue the -struggle. And I no longer dare to ask it of you; for if I can sacrifice -myself entirely, I have no right to pull you and your sister down with -me.' - -He sank upon a chair like one overcome, whilst Sœurette, still very -pale, and seated at her little table, looked both at him and at her -brother, awaiting developments in a state of deep emotion. - -'Ah, really! so things are so very bad,' Jordan quietly resumed. 'Yet -your idea was a very good one; you ended by convincing me of that. -I did not hide from you that I took no personal interest in such -political and social enterprises, being convinced that science is -the only revolutionary, and will alone bring about the evolution of -to-morrow, leading man towards truth and justice in their entirety. -But your theory of solidarity was so beautiful. Sitting at this window -after my day's work, I often looked at your town, and it was with -interest that I saw it growing. It amused me; and I said to myself that -I was working for it, since electricity would one day prove its chief -helpmate. Must everything be abandoned, then?' - -A cry of supreme renunciation came from Luc: 'My energy is exhausted,' -he exclaimed, 'I have no courage left, all my faith has departed. It -is all over, and I came to tell you that I am prepared to abandon -everything rather than impose a fresh sacrifice upon you. How could you -give me the money which we should need? How could I even have audacity -enough to ask you for it?' - -Never had man raised a more despairing cry. This was the evil hour, -the black hour, well known to all heroes, all apostles, the hour when -grace departs, when the mission becomes obscured, and the task appears -impossible. Forsooth a passing defeat, a momentary spell of cowardice, -accompanied, however, by the most frightful suffering. - -But Jordan again smiled quietly. He did not immediately answer the -remark which Luc with a shudder had addressed to him respecting the -large amount of money which would be needed if the work were to be -carried on. In a chilly way he pulled his rugs over his spare limbs, -then gently said: 'Do you know, my good friend, I'm not very well -pleased either. Yes, a perfect disaster befell me this morning. You -know how I thought that I had planned a perfect scheme for transmitting -electric force cheaply and without any loss over long distances. Well, -I was mistaken; I have discovered nothing of what I thought I had. An -experiment which I made this morning by way of checking everything -failed completely, and I have convinced myself that it is necessary to -begin all over again. That means a fresh labour of years, and you will -understand how worrying it is to encounter defeat when one imagines -victory to be certain.' - -Sœurette had turned towards her brother, quite upset at hearing of that -defeat of which she had hitherto been ignorant. In like manner Luc, -prompted to compassion by his own despair, stretched out his hand in -order to grasp his friend's with brotherly sympathy. And Jordan alone -remained calm, apart from the slight feverish tremulousness which -always came over him when he had exerted himself unduly. - -'In that case what do you intend to do?' Luc inquired. - -'What do I intend to do, my good friend? Why, I shall set to work -again. I shall make a fresh start to-morrow; I shall begin my work -anew from the very beginning. There is evidently nothing else to be -done. It is simple enough. You hear me! One ought never to throw up a -task. If it needs twenty years, thirty years, a whole lifetime, one -still ought to persevere with it. If one makes a mistake, one must -retrace one's steps and go over the whole ground afresh as many times -as may be necessary. Obstacles and hindrances are inevitable on the -road, and must be anticipated. A task, an _œuvre_, however, is like -a sacred child, and it would be criminal not to persevere during the -period of gestation. There is some of our blood in it, we have no right -to refuse to perfect it, we owe it all our strength, soul, flesh, and -mind. Even as a mother dies at times through the dear little one whom -she hopes to bring into the world, so should we be ready to die if our -task exhaust us. And if it does not cost us life, we have but one thing -to do when it is accomplished, and that is to begin another, never -pausing, but taking up one task after another as long as we are erect, -full of intelligence and virility.' - -As Jordan spoke he seemed to become tall and strong--shielded against -all discouragement by his belief in human effort, convinced of -conquering provided that he devoted to the fight the last drop of blood -in his veins. And to Luc, who was listening, it seemed as if a gust of -energy came to him from that weak and puny being. - -'Work! work!' continued Jordan; 'there is no other force in the world. -When one has set one's faith in work one is invincible. Why should we -doubt of to-morrow since it is we ourselves who create to-morrow by -our work to-day? All that is now being sown by our work will prove -to-morrow's harvest. Ah! holy work, creative, all-saving work, thou art -my life, the one sole reason why I live!' - -His eyes wandered afar as communing with himself he repeated those last -words--that hymn to work which ever returned to his lips in moments of -great emotion. And once again he related how work had ever consoled -and sustained him. If he were still alive it was because he had taken -into his life a task for which he had regulated all the functions of -his being. He was convinced that he would not die so long as his work -should remain unfinished. Bad as was his health, he had never entered -his laboratory without feeling relief. How many times had he not sat -down to his task with pain-racked limbs and tearful heart; yet on each -occasion work had healed him. His uncertainties, his infrequent moments -of discouragement had only come from his hours of idleness. - -All at once he turned towards Luc with his kindly smile, and said by -way of conclusion: 'You see, my friend, if you let La Crêcherie die, -you yourself will die of it. That task is your very life, and you must -live it to the end.' - -Luc had risen, upbuoyed once more, for his friend's faith in work, his -passionate love for his chosen task, filled him again with a spirit of -heroism and restored both his faith and his strength. In his hours of -lassitude and doubt there was nothing like the bath of energy which he -found beside Jordan, that weak and sickly friend of his from whom peace -and certainty seemed to radiate. - -'Ah! you are right,' he cried; 'I am a coward, I feel ashamed that -I despaired. Human happiness only exists in the glorification and -reorganisation of all-saving work. It will found our city. But then, my -friend, that money--all that money which must again be risked!' - -Jordan, exhausted by his own passionate outburst, was now drawing his -rugs more closely around his puny shoulders, and in a faint voice he -simply said, 'I will give you the money. We will economise; we shall -always be able to get on. Here we need very little, you know--milk, -eggs, and fruit. Provided that I am still able to pay the expenses of -my experiments, the rest will be all right.' - -Luc had caught hold of his hands, and was pressing them with deep -emotion. - -'But my friend, my friend,' said he; 'there is your sister. Are we to -ruin her also?' - -'True,' replied Jordan, 'we have forgotten Sœurette.' - -They turned towards her. She was silently weeping at her little table, -on which she had leant her elbows, whilst her chin rested between her -hands. Big tears were streaming down her cheeks. Her poor, tortured, -bleeding heart was venting all its woe. She, as well as Luc, had -been stirred to the depths of her being by all that she had heard. -Everything which her brother had said to his friend had resounded with -equal energy within her own heart. The necessity of work, of abnegation -in the presence of one's task, did that not also mean acceptance of -life, whatever it might be, and resolution to live it loyally in order -that all possible harmony might accrue therefrom? Like Luc, she now -would have thought herself evil-minded and cowardly had she sought -to hinder the great work, had she not devoted herself to it even to -renunciation of all else besides. The great courage of her simple, -kindly, sublime nature had returned to her once more. - -She rose and pressed a long kiss upon her brother's brow; and whilst -she remained beside him, with her head resting on his shoulder, she -whispered to him gently, 'Thank you, brother. You have healed me; I -will sacrifice myself.' - -Luc, however, once again eager for action, was now bestirring himself. -He had gone back towards the window, and was gazing at the glow which -fell upon the roofs of La Crêcherie from the broad blue heavens. And -as he came back towards the others he once more repeated his favourite -cry: 'Ah! they do not love! On the day they love all will prove -fruitful; all will spread, and grow, and triumph in the sunlight!' - -Then, with a last quiver of her subjugated flesh, Sœurette, who had -affectionately drawn near to him, replied: 'And one must love even -without wishing to be loved in return, for it is only by loving others -that the great work can ever be.' - -Those words, from one who gave herself unreservedly, for the sole -joy of doing so and without hope of reward, were followed by a deep, -quivering silence. They no longer spoke, but all three, united by close -brotherliness, gazed towards the greenery amidst which the rising city -of justice and happiness would gradually but ever spread its roofs, now -that so much love was sown. - - - - -IV - - -From that time forward Luc the builder, the founder of cities, -recovered his self-possession, spoke his will and acted; and men and -stones arose at his bidding. He became very gay, and carried on the -struggle of La Crêcherie against the Abyss with triumphant joyousness, -little by little winning over both folk and things, thanks to the -craving for love and happiness which he inspired all around him. He -himself felt that the secure establishment of his city would bring him -back Josine. With her all the woeful ones of the whole world would be -saved. In this he set his faith, and he worked by and for love, in the -conviction that he would ultimately conquer. - -One bright day, when the sky was radiantly blue, he came upon a -scene which again heightened his spirits and filled his heart with -tenderness and hope. As he was going round the dependencies of the -works, desirous of giving an eye to everything, he was surprised to -hear some light, fresh voices and bursts of laughter rising from a -corner of the property at the foot of the mountain ridge, a spot where -a wall separated the land of La Crêcherie from that of the Abyss. -Approaching prudently, for he wished to see without being seen himself, -Luc perceived to his delight a party of children playing freely in the -sunshine, restored to all the fraternal innocence of nature. - -On Luc's side of the wall, Nanet, who daily returned to La Crêcherie in -search of playmates, stood beside Lucien and Antoinette Bonnaire, whom -he had doubtless persuaded to accompany him on some terrible lizard -hunt. All three of them stood there with upturned faces, laughing and -calling, whilst on the other side of the wall, other children who could -not be seen were laughing and calling also. It was easy to understand -that Nise Delaveau had had some young friends to lunch, and that the -party on being dismissed to the garden had heard the calls of those -outside it, one and all becoming eager to see each other, join hands, -and amuse themselves together. Unfortunately, the former doorway had -been walled up, for their elders had grown tired of scolding them. At -Delaveau's the children were even forbidden to go to the bottom of the -garden, and were punished if they were found doing so; whilst at La -Crêcherie there were many efforts to make them understand that their -disobedience might bring about some unpleasant affair, complaints, -and even a lawsuit. But, like artless young creatures yielding to the -unknown forces of the future, they continued meeting and mingling, -fraternising together in total forgetfulness of all class rancour and -hostility. - -Shrill, pure, and crystalline voices continued rising, almost -suggesting the notes of skylarks. - -'Is that you, Nise? Good day, Nise!' - -'Good day, Nanet! Are you by yourself, Nanet?' - -'Oh, no! I'm with Lucien and Antoinette! And you, Nise, are you alone?' - -'Oh! no, no, I'm with Louise and Paul! Good day, good day, Nanet!' - -'Good day, good day, Nise!' - -At each 'good day,' again and again repeated, came peals of laughter, -so amused did they feel at talking together without seeing one another. - -'I say, Nise, are you still there?' - -'Why, yes, Nanet, I'm still here.' - -'Nise, Nise, listen! Are you coming?' - -'Oh, Nanet, how can I, since the door's walled up?' - -'Jump, jump, Nise, jump, my little Nise!' - -'Nanet, my little Nanet, jump, jump!' - -Then came perfect delirium, all six of them repeated 'jump, jump!' -whilst dancing before the wall, as if indeed they imagined that by -bounding higher and higher they would at last find themselves together. -They turned and waltzed, and bowed to the pitiless wall, and with that -childish power of imagination which suppresses all obstacles played as -if they could really see one another. - -At last a flute-like voice again arose. 'Listen, Nise! do you know -what?' - -'No, Nanet, I don't know.' - -'Well, I'm going to get on the wall, and I'll pull you up by the -shoulders and get you over here.' - -'Oh! that's it, Nanet, that's it! Climb up!' - -In a trice Nanet, clinging to the stone wall with hands and feet, as -agile as a cat, found himself on the top of the wall. And as he sat -there, bestriding it, he looked quite comical, with his big round -head, his large blue eyes, and his tumbled fair hair. He was already -fourteen, but he remained little, though very strong and resolute. - -'Lucien, Antoinette!' he cried, 'just you keep watch.' - -Then bending over Delaveau's garden, quite proud of overlooking -everything on both sides of the wall, he added: 'Come on, Nise, let me -catch hold of you.' - -'Oh, no! not me first, Nanet! I'll keep watch over here.' - -'Then who's coming, Nise?' - -'Wait a minute, Nanet, be careful. Paul's climbing up. There's a -trellis. He'll try it to see if it breaks.' - -Silence followed. One only heard the cracking of some old woodwork, -mingled with stifled laughter. And Luc began to ask himself if he -ought not to restore order by scattering both bands of urchins even -as one scatters sparrows on surprising them in a barn. How many times -already had not he himself scolded those children, from fear lest their -playfulness should prove the cause of some annoying trouble. Yet there -was something very charming about the bravery and joyousness which they -displayed in seeking to join one another in spite of every prohibition -and every obstacle! - -At last a cry of triumph arose. Paul's head appeared just above -the wall, and Nanet was seen hoisting him up, and then passing -him over in order that he might fall into the arms of Lucien and -Antoinette. Although Paul himself was more than fourteen, he was -not a heavy weight. He had remained slim and delicate, a handsome, -fair-complexioned lad, very good-natured and gentle, with quick and -intelligent eyes. Directly he had fallen into Antoinette's embrace he -kissed her, for he knew her well, and was fond of being near her, for -she was tall and pretty, and very graceful, although but twelve years -old. - -'That's done, Nise!' cried Nanet. 'I've, passed one over. Whose turn -next?' - -But Nise was heard replying in a loud anxious whisper: 'Hush, hush, -Nanet! There's something moving near the fowls' run. Lie down on the -wall. Quick, quick!' Then the danger being past, she added: 'Look out, -Nanet! It's Louise's turn now; I'll push her up!' - -This time, indeed, it was Louise's head which appeared above the -wall: a comical, goatish head with black and somewhat obliquely-set -eyes, a slender nose and pointed chin. With her vivacity and gaiety -she was very amusing. At eleven years of age she had already become -a self-willed little woman, quite upsetting her parents, the worthy -Mazelles, who were stupefied to find that such a riotous, enthusiastic -wilding had sprung from their placid egotism. She did not even wait for -Nanet to pass her over, but jumped of her own accord into the arms of -Lucien, her favourite playmate, who was the oldest of all of them. A -tall, sturdy lad of fifteen, endowed with great ingenuity and inventive -talent, he made her some extraordinary playthings. - -But Nanet was again calling. 'That makes two, Nise,' said he. 'There's -only you now. Come up, quick! There's something moving again over -yonder near the well.' - -A sound of cracking wood was once more heard; a large piece of the -trellis-work must have fallen to the ground, for Nise burst out: 'Oh! -dear me, dear me, Nanet, I can't! Louise broke it with her feet, and -now it's all down.' - -'Never mind--it doesn't matter! Give me your hands, Nise, and I'll pull -you up.' - -'No, no, I can't! I'm too little; can't you see, Nanet?' - -'But I tell you I'll pull you. Stretch out your arms--there! Now I'll -stoop and you must stand on tip-toes. There we are! You see very well -that I can pull you up.' - -Evincing great dexterity, he had raised Nise with his strong young -arms and seated her on the wall in front of him. She looked even more -tumbled than usual, with her fair curly pate, her pink and ever-smiling -mouth, and her pretty blue eyes. She and her friend Nanet formed a -pair, both of them with locks of the same soft golden hue, curling and -waving hither and thither. - -For a moment they remained astride the wall, face to face and delighted -at finding themselves so high up. - -'Ah! all the same you're strong, Nanet, to have pulled me up as you -did,' said the girl. - -'But then you've grown quite tall, Nise. I'm fourteen now; how old are -you?' - -'I'm eleven, Nanet. But, I say, isn't this like being on a horse, a -very tall horse, made of stone?' - -'Yes, but I say, Nise, shall I stand upright?' - -'Yes, upright, Nanet! I'll do the same!' - -But again a stir was heard down the garden, this time in the direction -of the kitchen, and the two children, full of anxiety, caught hold of -each other, and fell to the ground together, locked in a close embrace. -They might have killed themselves, but they laughed gaily, unhurt and -delighted with their tumble. Paul and Antoinette, Lucien and Louise on -their side, were already running wildly among the bushes and fallen -rocks which helped to form many a delightful nook at the feet of the -Bleuse Mountains. - -Thinking it too late to intervene, Luc went off very softly. As the -children had not seen him, they would not know that he had closed his -eyes to their escapade. After all, was it not best that they should -yield to the glow of youth within them, and meet and play in spite of -all the prohibitions? They were like the very florescence of life, -which well knew for what future harvests it thus flowered in them. And -they brought with them, perchance, the reconciliation of classes, the -morrow full of justice and peace which was awaited. That which their -fathers could not accomplish would be accomplished by them, and yet -more completely by their children, thanks to the evolution which was -ever spreading. And thus Luc, as he quietly walked away, refraining -from alarming them, laughed to himself as he heard them laughing, -heedless of the difficulties that they would encounter when they might -wish to climb over the wall again. That glimpse of the kindly future -had inspired the young man with a hope, a courage to continue fighting, -and a determination to achieve victory such as he had never known -before. - -For long months the desperate, pitiless struggle went on between -La Crêcherie and the Abyss. Luc, who had momentarily thought his -enterprise in jeopardy, toppling towards ruin, exerted every effort -to keep it on its legs. He did not expect to gain any more ground for -a long time to come, but he wished to lose none; and it was already -an achievement to remain stationary, to continue living amidst the -blows which were aimed at La Crêcherie from all sides. And how mighty -was the toil, and with what joyous bravery was it accomplished! -Luc was always here, there, and everywhere, encouraging the men in -the workshops, promoting brotherliness between one and all at the -common-house, and watching over the management of the co-operative -stores. He was constantly seen too in the sunlit avenues of the little -town, amidst the women and the children, with whom he liked to laugh -and play, as if he were the father of the young nation now springing -up around him. Thanks to his genius and creative fruitfulness, things -arose and grew methodically, as if in obedience to a wave of his hand. -But his greatest achievement was the conquest of his workmen, amidst -whom discord and rebellion had for a moment swept. Although his views -were not always shared by Bonnaire, he had won that brave and kindly -man's affection in such wise as to secure in him the most faithful, -the most devoted of lieutenants, one without whose help it would have -been impossible to carry on the enterprise. And indeed the affection -which radiated from Luc had influenced all the workers of La Crêcherie, -who, finding him so loving and brotherly, intent on securing happiness -for others, in the conviction that he would therein find happiness -himself, had gradually grouped themselves around him. Thus the staff -was becoming a large family linked more and more closely together, -each ending by understanding that he worked for his own delight when -he worked for that of all. Over a period of six months not a single -hand quitted the works, and if those who had previously left did not -as yet return, the others who remained devoted themselves entirely to -the enterprise, even leaving a part of their profits untouched in order -that a substantial reserve fund might be formed. - -At that critical period it was assuredly the solidarity evinced by all -the associated workers that saved La Crêcherie from falling beneath the -blows with which egotistical and jealous hatred inspired Beauclair. The -reserve fund, prudently increased and managed, proved a decisive help. -It enabled the folk of La Crêcherie to face difficult moments, and to -avoid borrowing at heavy interest. Thanks to this fund, moreover, they -were twice able to purchase new machinery, which had been rendered -requisite by changes in various processes, and which largely diminished -the cost of manufacture. Then, too, there came a few strokes of luck. -About that time there were some important enterprises: the laying down -of railways, the building of bridges and other things in which metal -work was largely used, and thus considerable quantities of rails, -girders, and structural material were required. The long peace in which -Europe lived vastly developed metallurgical industry in its pacific and -civilising branches. Never before had iron entered so largely into the -dwellings of men. Thus the output of La Crêcherie increased, though the -profits did not become very large, for Luc particularly wished to sell -cheaply, in the belief that cheapness would control the future. At the -same time he strengthened the works by wise management and constant -economy, and by gathering together that reserve fund of ready money in -order that it might be brought into use at the first sign of danger; -whilst the workers' devotion to the common cause, their abnegation in -foregoing a portion of their due, did the rest, enabling one to wait -for the arrival of triumph without excessive hardship. - -The Abyss, meantime, apparently remained in a flourishing situation; -there had been no falling-off in its turnover, and great success -seemed to attend its costly output of guns and projectiles. Still this -prosperity was only on the surface, and Delaveau, though he did not -confess it, experienced at times serious anxiety. He certainly had -on his side the whole of Beauclair--the whole of that _bourgeoise_, -capitalist society whose existence was threatened. And he remained -convinced that he represented truth, authority, and power, and that -ultimate victory was certain. Nevertheless, after a time secret doubts -began to assail him: he was disturbed at finding so much vitality in -La Crêcherie, whose prompt collapse he prophesied every three months -or so. He could no longer contend against the neighbouring works -with respect to commercial iron and steel--those rails, girders, -and structural materials which La Crêcherie turned out so well and -so cheaply. There only remained to him the manufacture of superfine -steel, of carefully made articles valued at three and four francs -per kilogramme, and as it happened these were also made at two very -important establishments in a neighbouring department. The competition -of those establishments was terrible, and Delaveau felt that of the -three--the Abyss and the two others--there was one too many. The -question was which two of them would devour the third. Weakened as it -was by the rivalry of La Crêcherie, would not the Abyss prove to be -the establishment fated to disappear? This question preyed upon the -manager, although he showed more activity than ever, and professed -serene confidence in the good cause, that religion of the wage system -of which he had constituted himself the defender. But another matter -worried him even more than the competition of rivals and the chances of -industrial warfare. This was the absence of any reserve fund, such as -might enable him to face some emergency, some unforeseen catastrophe. -If a crisis were to arise--some strike, or simply some falling-off -in trade--the result would be disastrous, for the works would not -possess the wherewithal to await a revival of business. The necessity -of purchasing some new plant had already compelled him to borrow three -hundred thousand francs, and the heavy interest on the loan now weighed -upon his annual budget. But what if he were compelled to borrow again -and again, until at last he should find himself swallowed up by an -abyss of indebtedness? - -About this time Delaveau tried to make Boisgelin listen to reason. -When he had induced the latter to confide to him the remnants of his -fortune, he had certainly promised that if the Abyss were purchased -he would hand him heavy interest on his capital, and enable him to -continue leading a luxurious life. Now, however, that difficulties were -likely to arise, he wished Boisgelin to be reasonable enough to cut -down his style of living for a time. He assured him that fortune would -soon smile once more, and that he would then be able to live again on -his former footing, and indeed in finer style than ever. Delaveau's -desire was to induce Boisgelin to content himself for a while with -one half of the profits, the other half being employed to constitute -a reserve fund which would enable the Abyss to emerge victoriously -from such bad times as might present themselves. But Boisgelin would -not listen; he demanded every penny, refusing to forego any one of the -pleasures of the costly life which he was leading. Quarrels even broke -out between the two cousins. Now that it seemed as if the invested -capital might no longer yield the expected interest, that the toil -of more than a thousand human beings might no longer suffice to keep -an idler in luxury, the capitalist accused his manager of failing to -keep his promises. Delaveau, though irritated by the other's idiotic -thirst for perpetual enjoyment, still entertained no suspicion that -behind that coxcomb, his cousin, there stood his own wife Fernande, -the all-corrupting, devouring creature, for whom all the money was -squandered in caprices and folly. Life at La Guerdache was nought but -a round of festivities, amidst which Fernande enjoyed such pleasing -triumphs that any pause in her delights would have seemed to her to -be absolute downfall. She egged on Boisgelin, she told him that her -husband's powers were declining, that he did not extract from the -works nearly so large a revenue as he might have done; and, according -to her, the only way to spur him on was to overwhelm him with demands -for money. The demeanour preserved by Delaveau--who was one of those -authoritative men who never take women into their confidence, making no -exception even of his wife, although he was passionately attached to -her--had ended by convincing Fernande that her view was the right one, -and that if she wished to realise her dream of returning to Paris with -millions of francs to squander, she must harass him without cessation. - -One night, however, Delaveau forgot himself in Fernande's presence. A -hunt had taken place at La Guerdache that day, and in the course of -it Fernande, whose delight it was to gallop about on horseback, had -for a time disappeared in the company of Boisgelin. A great dinner -had followed in the evening, and it was past midnight when a carriage -brought the Delaveaus back to the Abyss. The young woman, who seemed -overcome with fatigue, satiated as it were with the consuming enjoyment -of which her life was compounded, hastened to get to bed, whilst her -husband, after taking off his coat, went hither and thither about the -room, looking both angry and worried. - -'I say,' he ended by inquiring, 'did not Boisgelin tell you anything -when you went off with him?' - -At this Fernande, who was closing her eyes, opened them again in -surprise. 'No,' she answered, 'nothing interesting at all events. What -would you have him tell me?' - -'Oh! the fact is that we had previously had a discussion together,' -Delaveau resumed. 'He asked me to let him have another ten thousand -francs for the end of the month. But this time I positively refused. -It's impossible, it's madness!' - -Fernande raised her head, and her eyes glittered. 'Madness--how's -that?' said she, 'why don't you give him those ten thousand francs?' - -As it happened it was she herself who had suggested the application -for this money in order that Boisgelin might purchase an electrical -motor car in which she ardently desired to travel about the country at -express speed. - -'Why?' cried Delaveau forgetting himself. 'Because that idiot with his -extravagance will end by ruining the works. We shall have a smash up -if he doesn't cut down his style of living. There can be nothing more -idiotic than that life of festivity which he leads, that stupid vanity -of his which prompts him to let everybody despoil him.' - -Startled by these words, Fernande sat up in bed looking rather pale, -whilst Delaveau, with the _naïveté_ of a husband blind to his wife's -misconduct, went on: 'There's only one sensible person left at La -Guerdache, the only one, too, who enjoys nothing there. I mean poor -Suzanne. It grieves me to see her always looking so sad. However, when -I begged her to-day to intervene with her husband she answered, forcing -back her tears, that she was resolved to meddle in nothing.' - -The idea that her husband had appealed to her lover's wife, the poor -sacrificed creature, who showed such lofty dignity in her life of -renunciation, brought Fernande's exasperation to a climax. But she was -still more moved by the thought that the works--the very source of her -enjoyment--might be in peril. - -'We shall have a smash up--why do you say that?' she asked, 'I thought -that the business was going on very well?' - -She put this question in so anxious a tone that Delaveau, fearing that -if she knew everything she might amplify the fears which he strove to -hide from himself, became distrustful, and forced back the truth which -anger well nigh wrung from him. - -'The business is going on all right, no doubt,' said he, 'only it would -go on a great deal better if Boisgelin did not perpetually empty the -safe in order to continue leading an idiotic life. The man's a fool, I -tell you; he has only the poor paltry brain of a coxcomb.' - -Reassured by this reply, Fernande stretched herself out in bed once -more. Her husband was simply an individual with a gross mind, a miser, -whose desire was to part as little as possible with the large sums -which were received at the works. As for his denunciation of Boisgelin, -this was an indirect attack upon herself. - -'My dear,' said she by way of conclusion, 'all people are not made to -brutify themselves with work from morning till night; and those who -have money do right to enjoy themselves and taste the pleasures of a -higher life.' - -Delaveau was about to reply violently, but by an effort he managed to -calm himself. Why should he try to convert his wife to his views? He -treated her as a spoilt child, and let her act as she listed, never -complaining of any lapses on her part, such as he condemned when others -were in question. He did not even notice the folly of her life, for she -was his own folly, the prized jewel which he had longed to grasp with -his big, hard-working hands. She remained through all the object of his -admiration and adoration, the idol for whom one sets aside both dignity -and reason, and whom it is impossible to suspect. - -A little later, when Delaveau in his turn had got into bed, his anxiety -with respect to the position of the works came back to him. His wife -lay fast asleep beside him, but he himself was unable to close his -eyes, and amidst his painful insomnia the difficulties by which he was -menaced seemed to become greater. Never yet, indeed, had he surveyed -the future with so much insight and seen it under darker colours. He -became fully conscious that the cause of the impending ruin was that -mad craving for enjoyment, that sickly impatience which Boisgelin -displayed to spend his money the moment it was earned. There was an -abyss somewhere into which all that money sank, some abominable sore -also by which exuded all the strength and gain which work should have -brought with it. Accustomed as he was to be very frank with himself, -Delaveau passed his life in review, and could find nothing to reproach -himself with. He rose early, and was the last to leave the workshops -at night, remaining on the watch throughout the day, directing the -labour of his large staff as he might have directed the movements of -a regiment. He incessantly brought all his remarkable faculties into -play, showing a great deal of rectitude amidst his roughness, together -with rare powers of logic and method and the loyalty of a fighter who -has vowed to conquer and is determined to do so or to perish. Thus he -suffered frightfully at feeling that in spite of all his heroism he -was gliding to disaster through the collapse of everything that he set -on foot, a kind of daily destruction which came he knew not whence and -which his energy was powerless to stay. What he called Boisgelin's -imbecile life, that gluttonous craving for pleasure, was doubtless the -evil that preyed upon the works. But who, then, was it that made the -wretched man so stupid? whence came that insanity of his, which he, -Delaveau, could not understand, sensible and sober worker that he was -himself, hating idleness and excessive enjoyment since he knew that -they destroyed all creative health? - -And still he had no suspicion that the demolisher of Boisgelin's -fortune, the poisoner of his mind, was his own well-loved Fernande, -she who now lay beside him, looking so charming in her slumber. Whilst -he, amidst the black smoke of the Abyss and the burning glow of its -furnaces, exhausted himself in efforts to wring money from the toil -of pain-racked workmen, she on her side strolled in gay apparel under -the shady foliage of La Guerdache, flung money to the four winds of -fancy, and with her white teeth crunched the hundreds of thousands of -francs which more than a thousand wage-earners coined for her amidst -the resounding thuds of the great hammers. That night, too, whilst her -husband, with his eyes wide open in the darkness, remained tortured -by the thought of future payments, wondering by what fresh efforts he -might make the works produce the amounts promised to one and another, -she lying by his side slept off her intoxication of the day, so weary -with enjoyment that only the faintest breath came from her glutted -breast. At last Delaveau himself ended by falling asleep, and dreamt -that some weird, perverse, diabolical powers were at work beneath the -Abyss, eating away the soil in such wise that the whole establishment -would suddenly be engulfed on some fulgural, tempestuous night. - -During the days which followed Fernande recalled the fears which -her husband had expressed to her that evening. Whilst making every -allowance for what she regarded as his passion for heaping up money, -and his hatred of the pleasures of luxury, she could not help -shuddering at the thought of a possibility of ruin. Boisgelin ruined -indeed! In such a case what would become of her? That ruin would not -simply mean an end to the delightful life which she had always desired -as compensation for the wretched poverty of her earlier years, but -it would imply their return to Paris like vanquished beings, with a -flat of a thousand francs annual rental in the depths of some suburban -district, and some petty employment for Delaveau in which he would -vegetate whilst she herself would relapse into all the loathsome -coarseness of a home of penurious toil. No! no! she would not consent -to that; she would not allow her golden prey to escape her; every -muscle of her covetous being hungered for triumph. Within her slender -form, instinct with such delicate charm, such light gracefulness, -there was the keen appetite of a she-wolf, the most furious predatory -instincts. She was resolved that she would in no wise check that -appetite, that she would take her pleasure to the very end, allowing -none to rob her of it. No doubt she was full of contempt for those -grimy, muddy works where day and night she heard the monstrous-looking -hammers forging pleasure for her; and as for the men, those toilers -who roasted amidst hellish flames in order that she might lead a life -of happy idleness, she regarded them as domestic animals that gave -her food and spared her all fatigue. She never risked her little feet -on the uneven soil of the workshops; she never evinced the faintest -interest in the human flock which passed to and fro before her door, -bowed down by accursed labour. Nevertheless those works and that -flock were hers, and the idea that fortune might be wrested from her -by the ruin of the business roused her to revolt, prompted her to -defend herself as energetically as if her life itself were threatened. -Whosoever harmed the works became her personal enemy, a dangerous -evil-doer, of whom she was resolved to rid herself by all imaginable -means. Thus her hatred of Luc had gone on increasing ever since the -Sunday when they had first met at lunch at La Guerdache, where, with -a woman's keen acumen, she had guessed that he was the man who would -strive to bar her path. Since that time, moreover, she had frequently -come into collision with him, and now it was he who threatened to -destroy the Abyss and to cast her back into all the loathsomeness of -mediocrity. If she should allow him a free hand her happiness would be -over; he would rob her of everything that she cared for in life. And -thus, beneath her seeming graciousness, she was consumed by murderous -fury. One thought alone possessed her--that of suppressing that man, -and she dreamt of devising some catastrophe in which he might perish. - -Eight months had now gone by since Josine had bidden farewell to Luc, -and since that time she had become _enceinte_. Ragu had discovered -the truth one day, when in a fit of drunkenness he had wished to beat -her. He himself had reverted to his old life of debauchery, leading -astray all the factory girls who were foolish enough to listen to him, -and utterly neglecting his own wife. Thus his discovery both amazed -and exasperated him, and terrible scenes followed it. At first he had -recourse to brutality, and it was a wonder that Josine escaped alive. -Then he kept her shut up for days together, or else watched her every -movement. He had long spoken of casting her into the streets, he had -long neglected her for the most shameless of creatures, but at present -he quivered with jealous fury whenever he saw her speaking with any man -out of doors. He tried by every means he could devise to wring from -her her lover's name, but this she steadfastly refused to tell him, -whatever might be his threats, his violence, or his promises; for after -striking her he would sometimes exclaim: 'Tell me his name, tell me his -name! And I promise you that I'll leave you alone!' - -No suspicion of Luc entered Ragu's mind, for nobody, apart from -Sœurette, was aware of Josine's visit to the pavilion. Thus Ragu sought -the culprit among his own mates; but however much he might watch, -however much he might question, he learnt nothing, and the efforts he -made in this respect only increased his fury. - -Josine meantime hid herself as much as possible; she dreaded the result -for Luc should the truth be discovered. So far as she was personally -concerned, she was overjoyed by what had happened, and would have -gladly hastened to her lover to tell him of it. But fears for his -safety came upon her, and she thought that it was best to wait; in -such wise that a chance meeting alone apprised Luc of the truth. And -even then Josine was only able to acquaint him with her secret by a -gesture; for others were present, and it was impossible for the lovers -to exchange a word. - -Filled with emotion by the tidings thus imparted to him, Luc sought for -further information, and soon heard of Ragu's wrath and violence, and -of the close watch which he kept upon Josine. Had he, Luc, retained any -doubts on the matter, the other's ferocious jealousy and exasperation -would have sufficed to destroy them. From that moment he regarded -Josine as his own wife. She was his, and his alone, since she was soon -to become a mother--and the father of the child, and not the other, -was the real and sole husband. Ragu had vowed that he would never be -burdened with children, and thus there was no bond whatever between -him and Josine. There can, indeed, be but one bond between man and -woman, one firm and eternal bond--the bond which comes from the birth -of a child. Apart from that, whatever human laws may say, there is no -real union, no real marriage. Thus Josine now for ever belonged to Luc -alone, and assuredly she would come back to him, and the child would be -the living florescence of their love. - -All the same, Luc suffered terribly when he learnt that Josine was -constantly being reviled and ill-treated, ever in danger of receiving -some dastardly blow. It was unbearable to the young man that he should -have to leave that fondly loved woman in the clutches of Ragu, when -he longed to set her in a paradise of affection. But what could he do -since she so stubbornly cloistered herself in order to spare him all -embarrassment and worry? She even refused to see him, for fear of some -surprise that would have revealed the secret which she so tenderly -buried in the depths of her dolorous heart. Thus Luc had to watch for -her, in order to be able to say a few words. At last, one very dark -evening, while hiding in a dim corner of the wretched Rue des Trois -Lunes, he was able to stop her for a moment as she was passing. - -'Oh, Luc! is it you? How imprudent!' she gasped. 'Kiss me and run off, -I beg you.' - -But he, quivering, had clasped her round the waist, and was whispering -passionately, 'No, no, Josine, I want to tell you ... You are suffering -too much, and it is criminal of me to leave you, who are so dear, so -precious, in such suffering.... Listen, Josine, I have come to fetch -you, and you must come with me, so that I may place you in my home, -your home, like a well-loved happy woman.' - -She was already yielding to his gentle and consoling embrace. But all -at once she freed herself. 'Oh! what are you saying, Luc? Have you no -more reason than that?' she asked. 'Follow you, good heavens! when that -would be confession, and would draw the greatest dangers down upon -you! It is I who would then be acting wrongly, criminally, creating -embarrassment for you in the work that you are accomplishing. Be off, -quick! He may try to kill me, but I will never, never give him your -name.' - -At this Luc tried to convince her of the uselessness of such a -sacrifice to the hypocrisy of the world. 'You are my wife, since I am -the father of your child,' said he, 'and me it is that you ought to -follow. By-and by, when our city of justice is built, there will be no -other law save that of love, and our union will be respected by one and -all. Why should we trouble about the people whom we may scandalise -to-day?' - -Then as she seemed stubbornly bent on sacrifice, saying that she took -only the present into account, for she wished him to be spared all -obstacles, in order that he might become powerful and triumphant, he -raised a cry of grief: 'What, will you never return to me then? Will -that child never be mine, in the presence of one and all?' - -Again she clasped him with her delicate, endearing arms, and with her -lips near his she softly murmured: 'I will come back on the day when -you need me, when I shall be not a source of embarrassment but a help, -and then I will bring with me that dear child whose presence will endow -us both with increase of strength.' - -Black Beauclair, the old, pestilential den of accursed toil, lay around -them, agonising in the darkness beneath the crushing weight of its -centuries of iniquity, whilst those words, instinct with hope in a -future of peace and happiness, were spoken. - -'You are my husband,' resumed Josine; 'you alone will have formed part -of my life; and ah! if you only knew with what delight I refrain from -speaking your name, no matter how much I may be threatened. I keep it -secret like a hidden flower, like hidden armour, too. Oh! do not pity -me; I am strong and I am very happy.' - -And Luc made answer: 'You are my wife; I loved you on the very first -evening when I met you, so wretched yet so divine. And if you keep -my name secret so will I keep yours; it shall be my worship and my -strength till you yourself deem it time to cry our love aloud.' - -'Oh, Luc! how good, how reasonable you are, and how happy we shall be!' - -'It is you, Josine, who have made me good and reasonable, and it is -because I succoured you one evening that we shall be so very happy -later on, amidst the happiness of all.' - -Without again speaking they remained yet another moment linked in a -close embrace. Then Josine freed herself and returned, glorious and -invincible, to martyrdom, whilst Luc disappeared amidst the gloom, -strengthened by that interview and ready to resume the battle which -would lead to victory. - -A few weeks later, however, chance placed Josine's secret in -Fernande's hands. Fernande knew Ragu, whose sudden return to the -Abyss had created quite a sensation there, in such wise that Delaveau -had made a pretence of esteeming him, and had even appointed him -master-puddler, and favoured him in other ways, although his conduct -was execrable. That Fernande should have heard of the drama which had -upset Ragu's home was not surprising. He made no attempt whatever -to conceal the facts, but openly denounced his wife as a shameless -creature, with the result that the affair became a common subject -of conversation in the workshops. It was even spoken about at the -manager's house, and one day in Fernande's presence Delaveau expressed -his great annoyance at it all; for Ragu, now that he was wild with -jealousy, worked like a madman, at times never touching a tool for -three days in succession, and at others rushing upon his task and -stirring the fusing metal with all the fury of a man who is seized with -a longing to strike and kill. - -At last one winter morning, when Delaveau was absent in Paris, whither -he had gone the previous day, Fernande questioned her maid, who had -just brought her the tea and toast which composed her first breakfast. -Nise was seated there drinking her own milk and casting covetous eyes -at her mother's tea, for tea was a thing which she was not usually -allowed to drink, though she was very fond of it. - -'Is it true, Félicie,' Fernande inquired, 'that the Ragus have been -quarrelling again? The laundress told me that Ragu had half killed his -wife.' - -'I don't know if that's so, madame,' replied the maid, 'but I think she -must have exaggerated, for I saw Josine pass the house a little while -ago, and she looked no worse than she usually does.' - -A pause followed, and then the maid, as she went off, added, 'All the -same, it's pretty certain that he will end by killing her one of these -days. He tells everybody that he means to do so.' - -Silence fell again, and Fernande slowly ate her toast, absorbed the -while in a gloomy reverie. But all at once, amidst the heavy stillness, -Nise, letting her thoughts escape her unawares, began to hum in an -undertone: 'Ragu isn't Josine's real husband; her husband is Monsieur -Luc, Monsieur Luc, Monsieur Luc!' - -At this her mother raised her eyes in stupefaction, and gazed at the -child fixedly. 'What is that you are saying, Nise?' she exclaimed. 'Why -are you saying it?' - -Thunderstruck at having unwittingly hummed those words aloud, Nise -lowered her face over her cup, and strove to assume an innocent air. -'Oh, for nothing! I don't know.' - -'You don't know, you little falsehood-teller! You certainly did not -make up those words yourself. If you repeat them somebody must have -told them you.' - -Nise, although she was becoming more and more disturbed, feeling that -she had landed herself in a nasty scrape which might have far-reaching -consequences, nevertheless held out against all evidence. 'I assure -you, mamma,' said she, in the most artless manner that she could -assume, 'one sings things without knowing, just as they come into one's -head.' - -Then Fernande, seeing her repeat her fib with all the demeanour of a -genuine _gamine_, suddenly felt enlightened: 'It was Nanet who told you -what you sang; it can only have been Nanet.' - -Nise blinked; it was indeed Nanet who had told her. But she was afraid -of being again scolded and punished, as on the day when her mother had -caught her returning from La Crêcherie with Paul Boisgelin and Louise -Mazelle by climbing over the wall, so she persisted in her falsehood: -'Oh! Nanet, Nanet--but I haven't seen him at all since you forbade it.' - -Feverishly desirous of ascertaining the truth, her mother suddenly -assumed great gentleness of manner. Such was her emotion that she -forgot all question of scolding--Nise's escapades with Nanet being of -little moment compared with the important matter on which she desired -full enlightenment. 'Listen, little girl,' she said, 'it is very wrong -to tell falsehoods. That day when I said that you should have no -dessert it was because you wanted to make me believe that you and the -others had climbed over the wall simply to fetch a ball. Well, to-day, -if you tell me the truth, I promise that you shall not be punished. -Come, be frank--it was Nanet?' - -Nise, who at bottom was a good little girl, immediately replied: 'Yes, -mamma, it _was_ Nanet.' - -'And he told you that Josine's real husband was Monsieur Luc?' - -'Yes, mamma.' - -'And, pray, what does he know about it? Why does he say that Monsieur -Luc is Josine's real husband?' - -Thereupon Nise became perplexed, and innocently lowered her face over -her cup again. 'Oh! he knows--he knows--well, he says he knows it.' - -Greatly as Fernande desired to obtain precise information on the -subject, she felt that she could not put any further questions to her -child. And by way of precaution she sought to destroy the effect of -the eager curiosity which she had hitherto displayed: 'Nanet knows -nothing,' she said; 'he talks foolishly, and you are a little stupid to -repeat what he says. Don't go singing such silly things again, or else -you shall never have any dessert at all.' - -Then the meal was finished in silence, the mother absorbed in what she -had learnt, and the child well pleased at having escaped so lightly. - -Fernande spent the day in her room, reflecting. She began by asking -herself if what Nanet had said could really be the truth. But how was -she to doubt it? The lad had certainly heard something--discovered -something--and he was too much attached to his sister to tell any -falsehood about her. Moreover, a number of little incidents which -Fernande now recalled rendered the story quite probable--in fact, -certain. But then how could she make use of the weapon which chance -had placed in her hand? In a confused way she dreamt of steeping that -weapon in poison, so as to render it deadly. Never had she hated Luc -so much as she hated him now. If Delaveau was at present in Paris, it -was solely for the purpose of trying to negotiate a fresh loan, for -the Abyss was sinking a little more each day. How great, then, would -be her victory if she could succeed in suppressing the hated master of -La Crêcherie, the man who threatened her life of luxury and pleasure! -The enemy killed, the competition would be killed as well. With such a -man as Ragu, a drunkard, full of jealousy and wrath, a prompt finish -might be expected. It would doubtless suffice to inflame him, to prompt -him to draw his knife. But then, again, how was she to bring this -about--how was she to act? The proper course was evidently to warn -Ragu, to acquaint him with the name of the man whom he had been trying -to discover for three months past. Then, however, came a difficulty: -how was she to warn him, where, and by whom? At first she thought of -sending him an anonymous letter, and decided that she would cut the -words she needed out of some old newspaper, paste them on a sheet of -paper, and post the letter in the evening. She had, indeed, already -begun to cut out such words as she desired, when it suddenly occurred -to her that her plan might not prove efficacious, for Ragu might pay -little heed to a letter, whereas it was necessary to exasperate him. If -he were not excited, fired to the point of madness, perhaps he would -never strike. The truth must be cast at him like a blow--a whip stroke -in the face, and under such circumstances as might madden him. But whom -could she send? Whom could she choose to poison the man's mind? When -night came and she went to bed, she had grown convinced that there was -nobody whom she could employ, and that she herself must speak the fatal -words. Chance favoured her in this design. Her husband was absent, -and, on awaking at an early hour, she was able to go down and waylay -Ragu as he quitted the night shift. She had an excuse quite ready; she -would tell him that she wanted a woman to do some needlework, and had -thought of employing his wife, if he were willing to let her come. -That proposal would enable her to raise the subject which she had at -heart. And, indeed, at the first words that Fernande addressed to him -with respect to his wife, Ragu burst into invectives; and when she, -in a seemingly innocent way, declared that she imagined he had become -reconciled to the position, for she had heard that the child was to -be provided for by its father, Monsieur Luc, the man's fury became -uncontrollable. The die was cast, and it was certain that he would -wreak summary vengeance, for there was murder in his glance as he -wildly rushed away. - -It was nearly nine o'clock, and the pale morning light of winter was -rising, when Luc was stabbed by Ragu. The former was about to pay his -usual morning visit to the school--his greatest daily pleasure--when -Ragu, who had been watching for him, secreted the while behind a clump -of spindle trees, suddenly sprang forward and thrust his knife into his -back, between his shoulders. Luc, standing at that moment on the very -threshold of the school, laughing with some of the little girls who -had come forward to meet him, gave a loud cry and fell to the ground, -whilst his assailant fled up the Bleuse Mountains, where he disappeared -amidst the rocks and the bushes. As it happened Sœurette had not yet -arrived; she was busy at the dairy on the other side of the park. The -children present fled in their terror, calling for help, and shrieking -that Ragu had just killed Monsieur Luc. Some minutes elapsed, however, -before some of the men of the works heard these calls and were able -to pick up the stricken man, who had swooned away. The blood that had -gushed from him already formed quite a pool, and the steps of the right -wing of the common-house, which the school occupied, seemed to have -been baptized with gore. For the time being nobody thought of pursuing -Ragu, who must have been far away already. The attention of one and all -was given to Luc, who, just as the men were about to carry him into a -hall adjoining the class-rooms, emerged from his swoon and gasped in a -faint, entreating voice; 'No, no! to my home, my friends.' - -They had to obey him, and carry him to the pavilion on a stretcher; -but it was only with difficulty that they were able to lay him on his -bed, and then such was the agony he experienced that he again lost -consciousness. - -At that moment Sœurette arrived. One of the little girls, retaining her -presence of mind, had gone to warn her at the dairy, whilst, on the -other hand, one of the workmen ran down to Beauclair in order to fetch -Doctor Novarre. When Sœurette entered the pavilion and saw Luc lying -there, with his face quite white and his body covered with blood, she -believed him to be dead. Thus she at once fell upon her knees beside -the bedstead, a prey to such keen grief that the secret of her love -escaped her. She took hold of one of Luc's inert hands and kissed it, -and sobbed, and stammered forth all the passion against which she -had battled, and which she had buried deep within her. In losing him -she felt that she was losing her own heart; she would love no more, -she would be unable to live another day. And amidst her despair she -did not perceive that Luc, upon whom her tears were falling, had at -last recovered consciousness, and was listening to her with infinite -affection, infinite tenderness. At last he faintly breathed the words, -'You love me. Ah! poor, poor Sœurette!' - -Full of blissful surprise at finding him yet alive, Sœurette regretted -nought of her confession; rather was she delighted at no longer having -to lie to him, for she felt that her love was so great and so lofty it -would never bring suffering on him. - -'Yes, I love you, Luc!' she gasped, 'but do I count, I? You live, and -that is sufficient. I am not jealous of your happiness. Oh, Luc, you -must live! you must live! and I will be your servant.' - -At that tragic moment, when death seemed so near at hand, the discovery -of Sœurette's mute and absolute love, which had long surrounded and -accompanied him like that of some guardian angel, filled Luc with -immense but dolorous rapture. - -'Poor, poor Sœurette! Oh, my divine, sad friend!' he murmured in his -failing voice. - -But the door opened and Doctor Novarre entered in a state of keen -emotion. He immediately wished to examine the wound, with the -assistance of Sœurette, with whose skill as a nurse he was well -acquainted. Deep silence fell. There came a moment of inexpressible -anguish; then followed unhoped-for relief, a glow of hope. The knife -had struck the shoulder-blade and had swerved, reaching no vital -organ, but simply gashing the flesh. At the same time the wound was a -frightful one, and it seemed as if the bone might be broken, in which -event complications might arise. Even if there were no immediate danger -convalescence would at all events be a long time coming. Yet how joyful -was the thought that death had been averted! - -Luc was holding Sœurette's hand and smiling feebly at the sight of her -happiness. 'And my good Jordan, does he know of it?' he asked. - -'No, he knows nothing as yet; for three days past he has shut himself -up in his laboratory. But I will bring him to you. Ah! my friend, how -happy the doctor's assurance makes me!' - -In her rapture Sœurette still let her hand rest in Luc's, when once -again the door of the room opened. And this time it was Josine who -entered. At the first news of the crime she had hastened to the spot, -distracted, wild with grief. That which she had feared had happened! -Some scoundrel had surprised and revealed her secret, and Ragu had -killed Luc, her husband, the father of her child. Her life was over, -there was nothing more for her to hide, she would die there, in her -real home. - -Luc raised a light cry at the sight of her. And quickly dropping -Sœurette's hand, he held out both his arms. - -'Ah! Josine,' he gasped, 'it is you--you have come back to me!' - -Then, as she, staggering forward, sank down beside him, he understood -her anguish, and sought to reassure her. 'Do not grieve,' he said, 'you -have come back to me with the dear little one, and I shall live--the -doctor tells me so--live for both of you.' - -She listened and drew a long breath, as though recovering life. Had she -then reached the realisation of her hopes, that which she had awaited -from life, which seems so harsh whilst it accomplishes its needful -work? He would live! And it was that abominable knife-thrust which -brought them together once more--they who were already for ever linked -one to the other. - -'Yes, yes, I have come back to you, Luc,' she said, 'and it is all -over; we shall never part again since now we have nothing more to hide. -Remember that I promised to return to you whenever you might have need -of me, whenever I should no longer be a source of embarrassment to you. -All other ties are severed: I am your wife before one and all, and my -place is here, at your bedside.' - -Luc was so moved, so thrilled with rapture, that tears gathered in his -eyes. 'Ah! dear, dear Josine, love and happiness have come with you.' - -But all at once he remembered Sœurette, and then he raised his eyes and -saw her standing erect once more, on the other side of the bed; and -although she looked very pale she was smiling. With an affectionate -gesture he took hold of her hand again. - -'My good Sœurette,' he said, 'this was a secret which I was compelled -to hide from you.' - -She shivered slightly, then simply answered: 'Oh! I knew it, I had seen -Josine leave the pavilion one morning.' - -'What! you knew it!' - -Then he divined everything, and the compassion, the admiration, the -affection he felt for her became infinite. Her renunciation of hope, -the love which she still retained for him, and which she manifested in -boundless affection, in a gift of her whole life, touched him like an -act of the loftiest heroism. Drawing quite close to him she whispered: -'Have no fear, Luc, I knew it; and I shall never be aught but the most -devoted and most sisterly of friends.' - -'Ah, Sœurette!' he repeated, in so faint a breath that he could -scarcely be heard, 'ah! my divine, sad friend!' - -Noticing his exhaustion, Doctor Novarre intervened, and forbade -any further talking. The doctor smiled discreetly at all that he -had learnt at that bedside. It was very nice that the injured man -should have a sister, a wife to nurse him. But it was necessary to be -reasonable and to refrain from encouraging fever by excess of emotion. -Luc promised, however, that he would be very good; he spoke no more, -but only turned soft glances upon Josine and Sœurette, his two good -angels, who stood one on the right, the other on the left of his bed. - -A long pause followed. The blood of the reformer had flowed, and this -was the Calvary, the passion whence triumph would arise. As the two -women moved gently around him the injured man opened his eyes to smile -at them again. Then he fell asleep, murmuring: 'Love has come at last, -and now we shall be the conquerors.' - - - -V - - -Before long complications arose, and Luc barely escaped the clutches of -death. For a couple of days it was thought that he was dying. Josine -and Sœurette never quitted him, and Jordan came to seat himself beside -the bed of anguish, thus forsaking his laboratory, a thing which he had -not done since his mother's last illness. And how great was the despair -of those loving hearts which from hour to hour expected to see their -dear one drawing his last breath! - -The knife-thrust which Ragu had dealt Luc had quite upset La Crêcherie. -Work went on in the mourning workshops, but at every moment the men -desired tidings. There was great solidarity among them, and all felt -an anxious affection for the victim of that crime, which did more -to tighten the bonds of fraternity between them than many years of -experimental humanitarianism. Even in Beauclair sympathy became -apparent; a great many people there felt for that young, handsome, and -active man, whose one crime, apart from his work of justice, consisted -in having loved a very charming woman, who had been incessantly reviled -and beaten by her husband. Briefly, nobody seemed to be scandalised at -seeing Josine instal herself at Luc's bedside. It was indeed thought -quite natural, for was he not the father of the child? And had they -not purchased at the cost of many tears the right to live together? On -the other hand, the gendarmes despatched after Ragu had found no trace -of him; for a fortnight all the researches proved fruitless, but at -last, in the depths of a ravine of the Bleuse Mountains, the remains of -a man, half devoured by wolves, were discovered; and in these remains -the searchers asserted that they could recognise the body of Ragu. It -was impossible to draw up a death certificate on such evidence, but a -legend arose to the effect that Ragu had perished either accidentally -or by suicide amidst the furious madness born of his crime. In this -case, if Josine were a widow, why should she not live with Luc? And why -should not the Jordans accept the situation? The union of the young -couple seemed so natural, so firm, so indissoluble, that later on the -idea that they were not legally married occurred to nobody. - -At last, one bright February morning, Doctor Novarre declared that he -thought he might answer for Luc; and, indeed, a few days later the -latter was quite convalescent. Then Josine, who had not spared herself -throughout his illness, in her turn required to be nursed, for she -gave birth to a vigorous boy, named by his parents Hilaire. During the -weeks which followed, Luc often spent an hour, seated in an arm-chair, -near Josine's bed. The early springtide filled the room with sunshine; -on the table there was always a fresh bunch of lovely roses which the -doctor brought from his garden, like a prescription of youth, health, -and beauty, as he was wont to say. Between the parents was the cradle -occupied by little Hilaire, whom Josine herself nursed. Yet greater -strength and hope than they had previously known now flowered from -their lives in the person of that child. As Luc constantly repeated, -amidst the many plans for the future in which he indulged pending the -time when he might set to work once more, he was now at ease, convinced -that he would found the city of justice and peace, since in Josine -and Hilaire he had love--fruitful love--upon his side. Nothing is -founded without a child. A child is living work, the broadening and -the propagation of life, the assurance that to-morrow will duly follow -to-day. The mated couple alone brings life, alone works for human -happiness, and will alone save poor men from iniquity and wretchedness. - -On the first day when Josine, erect once more, was able to begin her -new life by the side of Luc, he caught her in his arms, exclaiming: -'Ah! you are mine alone! your child is mine also! And now we are -perfected, and fear nothing more from fate!' - -As soon as Luc was able to resume the management of the works, -the sympathy which had gone out to him on all sides helped him to -accomplish prodigies. Moreover, it was not only the baptism of blood -which brought about the success of La Crêcherie, a success which now -ever increased, continuously and invincibly. There was also a lucky -discovery: the mine once more became a source of great wealth, for they -fell at last upon considerable lodes of excellent ore, thus proving -that Morfain had been right. From that time forward iron and steel were -turned out of such excellent quality, and at such a low cost, that the -Abyss was even threatened in its manufacture of superfine articles. -All competition became impossible. And then there was also the effect -of the great democratic movement which now tended on all sides to an -increase in the means of communication, to an endless extension of -railway lines, and to the erection of bridges, buildings, whole cities -indeed, in which iron and steel were employed to a prodigious and ever -larger and larger extent. Since the days of the first Vulcans who had -smelted ore in a pit for the purpose of forging weapons to defend -themselves and conquer dominion over beings and things, the employment -of iron had been steadily spreading, and when its conquest by science -should be perfect, when it would be possible to work it for next to -nothing and adapt it to all usages, iron itself would become a source -of justice and peace. That, however, which more particularly brought -about the prosperity and triumph of La Crêcherie was its improved -management, into which there entered increase of truth, equity, and -solidarity. Its success had been certain from the day when it had been -founded on the provisional system of an association between capital, -labour, and intelligence; and the difficult days through which it had -passed, the obstacles of all kinds, the various crises which had been -deemed deadly, were simply so many inevitable jolts upon the road -during the first trying days of the advance, when it is necessary that -one should brace oneself for resistance if one desires to attain one's -goal. All this was now clearly manifest; the enterprise had ever been -full of life, laden with sap whence the harvests of the future would -spring. - -The works were now like a practical lesson, a decisive experiment which -would gradually convince everybody. How was it possible to deny the -strength of that association of capital, labour, and intelligence when -the profits became larger from year to year, and the workmen of La -Crêcherie earned twice as much as those of other establishments? How -could one do otherwise than admit that eight hours', six hours', three -hours' work--work rendered attractive by variety, and accomplished in -bright, gay workshops with the help of machinery which children might -have directed--was the fundamental principle necessary for future -society, when one saw the wretched wage-earners of yesterday born -anew, becoming healthy, intelligent, cheerful, and gentle men again -as things progressed towards complete liberty and justice? How also -could one do otherwise than conclude in favour of the necessity of -co-operation which would suppress all intermediary parasitic growths, -mere trading in which so much wealth and strength is swallowed up, when -the general stores of La Crêcherie worked so smoothly, ever increasing -the comfort of those who yesterday had been famished, and loading -them with enjoyments hitherto reserved for the rich alone? How again -could one do otherwise than believe in the prodigies accomplished by -solidarity, which renders life so pleasant and makes it a continual -festival for one and all, when one attended the happy meetings at the -common-house, destined to become the people's royal palace, with its -libraries, its museums, its concert-halls, its gardens, and its many -diversions? And how could one do otherwise than renew the whole system -of educating and rearing children in such wise that this system should -no longer be based on a theory of the innate idleness of man, but on -his inextinguishable craving for knowledge? And how refuse to render -study agreeable and leave each pupil in possession of his individual -energy, and allow the two sexes to mingle from infancy--since they are -destined to share life side by side--when one beheld the prosperity of -the schools of La Crêcherie, whence all excessive book-learning was -banished, where lessons were mingled with play and rudimentary notions -of professional apprenticeship, so as to help each fresh generation -to draw nearer to that ideal community towards which mankind has been -marching for so many centuries? - -Thus the extraordinary example which La Crêcherie day by day displayed -in the broad sunlight became contagious. There was no longer any -question of theories, but one of facts evident to the eyes of all. -And naturally the association gained more and more support; crowds of -fresh workmen presented themselves for admission, attracted by the -larger earnings, the increase of comfort; and new buildings arose on -all sides, continually adding themselves to those which had been first -erected. In three years the population was doubled, and the pace of the -progress was increased till it became one of incredible rapidity. This -was the dreamt-of city, the city of reorganised work, restored to its -status of nobility, the city of happiness at last conquered, springing -naturally from the soil around the works, which likewise grew and -spread, becoming, as it were, a metropolis, a central heart, the source -of life, dispensing and regulating social existence. The workshops, -the great halls became larger and larger until they covered acres -of ground, whilst the little bright, gay dwelling-houses, standing -amidst the greenery of their gardens, multiplied incessantly even as -the number of workers increased. And this overflowing wave of new -buildings advanced towards the Abyss, which it threatened to destroy -and submerge. At first, between the two establishments there had been -a great bare space made up of all the uncultivated land which Jordan -owned below the ridge of the Bleuse Mountains. Now, beyond the few -houses first built near La Crêcherie, there had come others and ever -others, lines of houses invading everything like a rising tide, which -only some two or three hundred yards separated from the Abyss. And -whenever the waves might advance against it, would it not be covered, -carried away, to be replaced by a triumphant florescence of health and -joy? Even Old Beauclair was threatened, for one part of the new city -was marching thither, and would sweep off that black and evil-smelling -den of the old-time workers, that nest of pain and pestilence, where -the wage-system lay at its last gasp under the crumbling ceilings of -the hovels. - -One evening, when Luc stood gazing at his new city, which he could -already picture covering the whole estuary of the Brias gorges, -Bonnaire brought Babette, Bourron's wife, to him. Said she, with her -everlasting expression of good humour, 'It's like this, Monsieur Luc. -My man would very much like to come back to work at La Crêcherie. -Only he wasn't bold enough to come and speak to you himself, for he -remembers that he took himself off in a very wrong fashion. So I've -come for him.' - -Then Bonnaire added: 'One ought to forgive Bourron. That wretched Ragu -led him astray. There's no malice in Bourron; he's only weak, and -perhaps we can still save him.' - -'Oh, let him come back!' Luc gaily exclaimed. 'I do not desire the -death of a sinner--rather the reverse! How many there are who only take -to bad courses because they are led to them by their mates, idlers and -revellers whom they cannot resist! Bourron will be a good recruit; -we'll make an example of him for the benefit of the others.' - -Never had Luc felt so happy. Bourron's return seemed to him a decisive -symptom, albeit the man had become a mediocre worker. But, then, -as Bonnaire said, would not his redemption be a victory over the -wage-system? And besides, this would mean another household in the new -town, another little wave added to all the others which helped to swell -the tide by which the old world would be swept away. - -Some days later Bonnaire again came to ask Luc to admit one of the -men of the Abyss. On this occasion, however, the recruit was such a -pitiable one that the former master-puddler was not disposed to insist -on the matter. - -'It's that poor Fauchard,' said Bonnaire; 'he's made up his mind at -last. He prowled about La Crêcherie on several occasions, as you may -remember; but he could come to no resolution, he was afraid to choose, -to such a degree had he been brutified, exhausted by excessive labour, -ever the same. He's no longer a man, you know; he's simply an old -warped bit of mechanism. I fear that we shall never get anything good -out of him.' - -Luc was reflecting, recalling the first days that he had spent at -Beauclair. 'Ah! yes,' he said, 'I know; he has a wife called Natalie, -isn't that so? A woman of complaining mind, full of care, who is -always in search of credit. And he has a brother-in-law, Fortuné, who -when I first met him was only sixteen years old, and looked so pale, -so bewildered, so shattered already by mechanical toil! Ah! the poor -creatures! Well, let all of them come; why shouldn't they? This will be -another example, even if we cannot make Fauchard a free and cheerful -man again.' - -Then in a jocular, joyful manner he added: 'This will mean another -family, another house added to the others. La Crêcherie is becoming -populous, eh? Do you know, Bonnaire, we are now on the high road to -that beautiful great city of which I used to speak to you at the very -beginning, when you were so incredulous! Do you remember? You were -anxious as to the result of the experiment; and if you remained on my -side it was chiefly out of gratitude. But are you convinced now?' - -Bonnaire, who seemed somewhat embarrassed, did not immediately reply. -At length, in his usual frank way, he said: 'Is one ever convinced? -It's necessary that one should be able to touch the result with -one's finger. The works are prosperous, no doubt; our association -is growing, the men live in more comfort; there is a little more -justice and happiness. But you know my ideas, Monsieur Luc; it is -still the accursed wage-system, and I don't yet see any realisation of -Collectivism.' - -It was only as a theorist that Bonnaire now defended himself. If he -did not give up his ideas, as he expressed it, he at least showed -admirable activity and courage in helping on the work which was going -forward. He was the hero-worker, the real leader, whose brotherly -example of solidarity had decided the battle in favour of La Crêcherie. -When he appeared in the workshops, looking so tall, so strong, and so -good-natured, all hands were stretched towards him. And he was more won -over to the cause than he was willing to admit, for it delighted him to -see that his comrades suffered less, tasted all sorts of delights, and -dwelt in healthy homes with flowers around them. After all it seemed as -if he would not go off without seeing the fulfilment of his life dream, -that dream of a world in which there would be less wretchedness and -more equity. - -'Yes, yes, Collectivist society,' said Luc, laughing, for he knew -Bonnaire well, 'we shall bring it about, even in a better way perhaps -than many of its partisans imagine; and if we don't, our children will. -Be confident, Bonnaire, and remember that the future henceforth belongs -to us, since our town is growing, always growing.' - -Then, with a broad gesture Luc pointed to the houses which stood among -the young trees, and whose roofs of coloured faïence showed so gaily -in the light of the setting sun. Ever and ever did he return to those -living houses which seemed to rise from the ground at his command, and -which he really pictured on the march like some pacific army which had -set forth to sow the future on the ruins of Old Beauclair and the Abyss. - -If, however, the industrial workers of La Crêcherie alone had -triumphed, the result would simply have been a happy one, with -consequences still open to discussion. But it was rendered decisive -by the fact that the peasant workers of Les Combettes triumphed on -their side also in the association which had been formed between the -village and the factory. Here again there was only a beginning, but -how great was the promise of prodigious fortune! Since the day when, -realising that agreement was necessary if they were to struggle on and -live, Mayor Lenfant and his assessor Yvonnot had become reconciled, and -had prevailed on all the petty landowners of the village to combine -together in order to constitute one large estate of several hundreds -of acres, the land had developed extraordinary fertility. Previously -it had seemed as if it were becoming bankrupt, even like the great -plain of La Roumagne which had once been so fruitful, and which now -presented such a sorry spectacle with its poor, stunted, meagre crops. -In point of fact this was simply the effect of man's stubborn laziness -and ignorance, his adherence to old-fashioned methods, and the lack -of proper manure, machinery, and agreement. Thus what a lesson was -given to others when the peasants of Les Combettes began to cultivate -their land in common. They purchased manure cheaply and procured tools -and machinery at La Crêcherie in exchange for the bread, wine, and -vegetables with which they supplied it. Strength came to them now that -they were no longer isolated, but had formed a solid and henceforth -indestructible bond between the village and the factory. And this was -the long-dreamt-of reconciliation between peasant and mechanic, which -for so many years had seemed impossible: the peasant supplying the corn -that nourishes, and the other supplying iron and steel in order that -the land might be sown with corn. If La Crêcherie needed Les Combettes, -Les Combettes on the other hand could not have thriven without La -Crêcherie. At all events union was at last effected, there was a -fruitful alliance whence the happy community of to-morrow would spring. -And what a miraculous spectacle was presented by that plain, now -reviving to life. A short time previously it had been almost abandoned, -and now it overflowed with crops! Amidst the other stretches of land -stricken by disunion and incompetence, Les Combettes formed as it -were a little sea of rich verdure which the whole region contemplated -at first with stupefaction and then with envy. Such dryness, such -sterility yesterday, and so much vigour and abundance to-day! Why not -follow, then, the example of the folk of Les Combettes? Neighbouring -villages were already making inquiries, and showing a desire to join -the movement. It was said that the mayors of Fleuranges, Lignerolles, -and Bonneheux were drawing up articles of association and collecting -signatures. Thus the little green sea would soon grow, join other seas, -and spread its waves of greenery afar until the whole expanse of La -Roumagne would form but one sole domain, one sole pacific ocean of -corn, vast enough to nourish the whole of a happy people. - -For pleasure's sake, Luc often took long walks through those fertile -fields, and he occasionally met Feuillat, Boisgelin's farmer, who -likewise strolled about, with his hands in his pockets, whilst -contemplating in his silent enigmatical way the growth of the fine -crops which sprang from that well-tilled land. Luc knew what a large -part Feuillat had had in prompting Lenfant and Yvonnot to take the -initiative, and he was aware that the farmer still advised them -nowadays. Thus the young man remained full of surprise at seeing in -what a lamentable condition the other left the land which he himself -farmed--the land belonging to La Guerdache, whose sorry fields looked -like an uncultivated desert beside the rich domain of Les Combettes. - -One morning, as Luc and Feuillat were chatting whilst they sauntered -along the road which separated the two estates, the former could not -help remarking: 'I say, Feuillat, don't you feel ashamed at keeping -your land in such poor condition, when over the way your neighbours' -land is so admirably cultivated? Surely your own interest ought to urge -you to active and intelligent work, such as I know you to be quite -capable of.' - -At first the farmer simply smiled; then he fearlessly spoke out: 'Oh, -Monsieur Luc! shame is far too fine a sentiment for such poor devils -as we are. As for my interest, it is just to get a living, and no -more, out of this land which does not belong to me. That's what I do; -I cultivate it just sufficiently to procure bread. I should simply be -a dupe if I were to work it properly, manure it and improve it; for -all that would only enrich Monsieur Boisgelin, who each time my lease -expires is free to turn me out of doors. No, no! To make a field a good -field it ought to belong to oneself, better still to everybody.' - -Then he began to jeer at the folk who shouted to the peasants: 'Love -the land! Love the land!' No doubt he was willing to love it: but all -the same he wished to be loved in return, or rather he did not desire -to love it for the sake of others. As he repeated, his father, his -grandfather, and his great-grandfather had loved it in all good faith, -bending beneath the rod of those who exploited them, and never drawing -from it aught save wretchedness and tears. For his own part he would -have none of the system by which landlords ferociously imposed upon -their tenants that farming system which meant that the farmer was to -love and caress and fructify the soil in order to increase the owner's -wealth. - -A pause followed. Then in a lower voice, with an expression of -concentrated ardour, Feuillat added: 'Yes, yes, the land to everybody, -so that one may love it again and cultivate it properly. For my part, -I'm waiting.' - -Greatly struck by these words, Luc again glanced at the farmer. Close -as he might keep, he was evidently a man of keen intelligence. Behind -the peasant, who simply seemed unobtrusive and somewhat shy, Luc now -divined a skilful diplomatist, a keen-eyed precursor, one who gazed -into the future and helped on the experiment at Les Combettes with -a distant object, known to him alone, in view. Luc suspected the -truth, and, wishing to make certain on the point, he said: 'So, if -you leave your land in that condition, it is in part to make people -compare it with the neighbouring land and understand the reasons of the -difference. But is it not all a dream? Surely Les Combettes will never -invade and swallow up La Guerdache.' - -Again did Feuillat break into a silent laugh. Then he contented himself -with saying: 'Something big would have to happen between now and then. -But, after all, who knows? I'm waiting.' - -They took a few steps, and then, with a sweeping gesture which embraced -the whole scene, the farmer resumed: 'All the same, things are moving. -Do you remember what a horrid view one had from here with all those -little patches of ground which yielded such poor crops? And now just -look! With everything united in one estate, and cultivation in common -with the help of machinery and science, the crops overflow on all -sides. Ah, it is indeed a splendid sight!' - -The ardent love which he had secretly retained for the soil was -manifest at that moment in the fire of his glance and the enthusiasm -of his voice. And Luc himself was impressed by the great gust of -fruitfulness which passed, quivering, over that sea of corn. If he -felt so strong and competent at La Crêcherie, it was because he now had -his granary and was assured of bread, through having added a community -of peasants to his community of industrial workers. And the delight -he experienced when he saw his city marching on, its waves of houses -ever advancing to the conquest of the Abyss and Old Beauclair, was -no greater than that which he felt when he came to view the fertile -fields of Les Combettes, which on their side were likewise marching -on, stretching into the neighbouring fields, and gradually spreading -out into an ocean of crops which would cover La Roumagne from one -to the other end. Here as there the effort was identical; the same -civilisation was coming--mankind was marching towards truth, justice, -peace, and happiness. - -The first effect of La Crêcherie's success was to make the petty -factories of the region understand the advantage they would reap by -following its example and combining with it. The Chodorge works--nail -works which purchased all their raw material from their powerful -neighbours--were the first to come to a decision, allowing themselves -to be absorbed by La Crêcherie in the interest of both sides. Then -the Hauser works, which after manufacturing sabres had made scythes -and sickles their specialty, likewise joined the association, forming -as it were a natural adjunct of the great forge. Some difficulties -arose with another establishment, that of Mirande & Co., who built -agricultural machinery, for one of the two partners was a reactionist, -and fought against all novelties. But the position of the firm became -so critical that, fearing a catastrophe, he withdrew from it, and the -other partner hastened to save his works by merging them into those of -La Crêcherie. All the establishments thus drawn into the movement of -association and solidarity accepted the same statutes--a division of -profits based upon an alliance between capital, work, and intelligence. -They ended by constituting one sole family made up of various groups, -ever ready to welcome fresh adherents, and in this wise capable of -spreading indefinitely. And in this there was a re-casting of society, -which reconstituted itself on the basis of a new organisation of work, -tending to the freedom and happiness of mankind. - -Beauclair was astonished and disconcerted, and its anxiety soon reached -a climax. What! would La Crêcherie grow without cessation, absorb -every little factory it might meet, this one, that one, and then -that other? And would the town itself and the immense plain beside -it be swallowed up and become the dependencies, the domain, the very -flesh of La Crêcherie? Men's hearts were disturbed, and their brains -began to wonder in what direction might lie the true interest of one -and all, and the possibility of fortune. The perplexity of the petty -traders, particularly the usual household purveyors, increased and -increased as day by day their takings diminished. It became a question -whether they would not be soon obliged to put up their shutters. The -sensation was general when people learnt that Caffiaux, the grocer and -taverner, had come to an arrangement with La Crêcherie by which his -establishment would be turned into a simple _dépôt_, a kind of branch -of the factory's general stores. Caffiaux had long been regarded as the -hireling of the Abyss, more or less a spy, one who poisoned the worker -with alcohol and then sold his secrets to his masters, for taverns are -the strongest pillars of the wage-system. At all events the man was -a suspicious character, one who ever watched to see which side would -prove victorious, and who was always prepared to commit some act of -treachery, readily turning his coat with the ease of one who is by no -means partial to defeat. - -Thus the circumstance that he had so jauntily set himself on the side -of La Crêcherie greatly increased the anxiety of his neighbours, who, -for their own parts, wished to take up the most profitable position -as soon as possible. A pronounced movement of adherence to the -association then set in, and was destined to proceed more and more -rapidly. Beautiful Madame Mitaine, the bakeress, had not waited for -Caffiaux's conversion to express approval of the developments at La -Crêcherie, and she was quite disposed to enter the association, though -her establishment remained prosperous, thanks to the reputation for -beauty and kindliness which she had imparted to it. Butcher Dacheux -alone persevered in obstinate resistance, full of fury at the downfall -of all his cherished notions. He declared that rather than yield to the -current he would prefer to die amongst his last quarters of beef on the -day when he should no longer find a _bourgeois_ disposed to buy them at -their proper price. And it seemed indeed as if this would come to pass, -for his customers were gradually deserting him, and such were his fits -of wrath that assuredly he was threatened with some sudden stroke of -apoplexy. - -One day Dacheux betook himself to Laboque's establishment, whither -he had begged Madame Mitaine also to repair. It was a question, said -he, of seeing to the moral and commercial interests of the whole -district. A rumour was current that the Laboques, in order to avoid -bankruptcy, were on the point of making peace with Luc and joining La -Crêcherie, in such a way as to become mere depositaries of its goods. -Since the works had been directly exchanging their iron and steel, -their tools and machinery for the bread of Les Combettes and the other -syndicated villages, the Laboques had lost their best customers, the -peasants of the environs, without counting the housewives and even -the _bourgeoises_ of Beauclair, who effected great savings by making -their purchases at the stores of La Crêcherie, which Luc by a happy -inspiration had ended by throwing open to everybody. This meant the -death of trade, such as it had hitherto been understood, such as it -was personified by the middleman who intervened between producer and -consumer, increasing the cost of life, and living like a parasite on -the needs of others. And thus amidst their deserted bazaar the Laboques -poured forth their lamentations. - -When Dacheux arrived, the woman, dark and scraggy, sat behind her -counter doing nothing, for she lacked even the courage to knit herself -some stockings; whilst the man, with the eyes and the snout of a -ferret, came and went like a soul in distress, before the pigeon-holes -full of unsold, dust-covered goods. - -'What's that I hear?' cried the butcher, flushing purple. 'You've -turned traitor, Laboque, so people say, you are on the point of -surrendering! To think of it! You who lost that disastrous lawsuit, -you who swore that you'd kill the bandit even if it should cost you -your skin! Would you now set yourself against us, then, and add to the -disaster?' - -But Laboque, whose hopes were all shattered, burst into a rage. 'I've -quite enough worry; just leave me in peace,' he answered. 'As for that -idiotic lawsuit, you all urged me to it. And now you don't spend enough -money with me to enable me to make my monthly payments. So you need not -come taunting me about saving my skin.' And pointing to his dusty goods -he went on: 'My skin's there, and if I don't come to an arrangement the -bailiffs will be here next Wednesday. Yes, it's quite true, since you -want me to say it; yes, I'm negotiating with La Crêcherie, I've come to -an understanding with them, and I shall sign the papers to-night. I was -still hesitating, but I'm being worried beyond endurance.' - -He sank upon a chair, whilst Dacheux, quite thunderstruck, and almost -choking, was only able to stammer oaths. Then in her turn Madame -Laboque, huddled up behind her counter, poured forth her plaint in -a low and monotonous voice: 'To have worked so hard, _mon Dieu_, to -have taken so much trouble when we first started in business and -went selling ironmongery from village to village! And then too, all -the efforts that we had to make here in order to open this shop, and -enlarge it from year to year! We were rewarded, no doubt; the business -prospered, and we dreamt of buying a house right in the country and -of retiring to it and living on our income. But now everything is -crumbling away, Beauclair has gone mad, though I can't yet understand -why, _mon Dieu_!' - -'Why, why?' growled Dacheux; 'why, because the Revolution has come, and -the _bourgeois_ are cowards and don't even dare to defend themselves. -For my part, if I'm hustled too much I'll take my knives one morning, -and then you'll see something.' - -Laboque shrugged his shoulders. 'A lot of use that would be!' he -exclaimed. 'It's all very well when folk are with one, but when a man -feels that to-morrow he will be left quite alone, the best is to go -where the others are going, however much it may enrage one to do so. -Caffiaux understood it well enough.' - -'Ah! that filthy Caffiaux!' shouted the butcher, full of fury once -more. 'There's a traitor for you--a man who sells himself! You know -that Monsieur Luc, that bandit, gave him a hundred thousand francs to -desert us.' - -'A hundred thousand francs,' repeated the ironmonger, whose eyes -glowed, although he feigned ironical scepticism. 'I only wish he'd -offer them to me, I'd take them at once. But no, it's stupid to be -obstinate, and the sensible course is always to side with the stronger.' - -'How awful! how awful!' resumed Madame Laboque in her whining voice. -'The world is certainly being turned upside down; it is coming to an -end.' - -Beautiful Madame Mitaine, who was Just then entering the shop, heard -those last words. 'What! the end of the world,' said she gaily, 'why -there were two babies, two fine big boys, born yesterday. And your -children, Auguste and Eulalie, how are they? Aren't they here?' - -No, they were not there, they were never there. Auguste, now nearly -two-and-twenty, had acquired a passion for mechanical arts, holding -trade in horror; whilst Eulalie, who was a very sensible girl, already -a little housewife at fifteen, lived for the most part with one of her -uncles, a farmer of Lignerolles, near Les Combettes. - -'Oh! the children,' said Madame Laboque, again in a complaining voice, -'one can't rely on the children.' - -'They are all so ungrateful,' declared Dacheux, who was indignant at -finding no trace of his own nature in his daughter Julienne, a plump, -good-looking girl of a compassionate disposition, who, although she -had passed her fourteenth birthday, still played with all the little -ragamuffins that infested the Rue de Brias. 'When one relies on one's -children one may be sure of dying of misery and grief.' - -'Well, I certainly rely on my Évariste, I do,' resumed the baker's -wife. 'He's close on twenty now, but we shan't quarrel because he has -refused to learn his father's calling. These young people naturally -grow up with ideas different from ours, for they are born for times -when we shall no longer be here. All I ask of my Évariste is to love me -well, and that he does.' - -She then plainly stated her position to Dacheux. If she had come -to Laboque's shop at his request it was in order that it might be -fully understood between them that each tradesman of Beauclair ought -to retain full freedom of action. She did not as yet belong to the -association of La Crêcherie, but she relied upon joining it when she -might be so pleased, that is to say, when she might feel convinced that -she would be acting in the general interest as well as in her own. - -'It's evident that we ought to be free,' put in Laboque by way of -conclusion. 'As I can't do otherwise, I shall sign to-night.' - -Then Madame Laboque's moan began once more: 'I told you so, the world -is topsy-turvy, this is the end of it.' - -'No, no!' the beautiful Madame Mitaine again exclaimed. 'How can the -world be coming to an end when our children are just getting to an age -when they may marry and have children of their own, who in their turn -will marry and have children too? The young people are pushing the -others aside, the world is being renewed, that's what it is--the end of -_a_ world, if you like.' - -Those last words fell from her so sharply and decisively that Dacheux, -banging the door behind him, went off exasperated, with bloodshot eyes -and a quiver of the apoplexy by which he was threatened. As Madame -Mitaine had said, it was indeed the end of _a_ world, the end of -iniquitous and rotting trade, that trade which only creates the wealth -of a few at the expense of the greater number. - -But Beauclair was to be upset by another and greater blow. Hitherto the -success of La Crêcherie had reacted only on establishments of a similar -nature, and on the petty traders, those who lived from day to day on -passing customers. Thus the emotion became great indeed when one fine -morning it was learnt that Mayor Gourier himself had been won over to -the new ideas. He--firmly established, needing nobody, as he declared -in a spirit of vanity--did not intend to join the association of La -Crêcherie. But he founded another one of a similar character, dividing -his large boot-works of the Rue de Brias into shares, on the basis of -a partnership between capital, work, and intelligence, amongst which -the profits were to be apportioned in three parts. This was simply the -establishment of a new group, what may be called the clothing group, -by the side of that which dealt in iron and steel. And the resemblance -between the two became the more pronounced when Gourier succeeded in -syndicating all the branches of the clothing industry: the tailors, -hatters, hosiers, linendrapers, and mercers. Then, too, yet another -group was spoken of, one which a big building contractor proposed to -establish by associating all the workers of the building trade, masons, -stonecutters, carpenters, locksmiths, plumbers, tilers, and painters. -And this group would assuredly absorb the architects and artists, -as well as the workers of the furniture trade, the cabinetmakers, -upholsterers, and bronze-workers, and in time even the clockmakers and -the jewellers. All this was simply logical; the example of La Crêcherie -had sown that fruitful idea of so many associations forming natural -groups, which grew up by themselves, in an imitative spirit, through a -craving to reach the greatest possible sum of life and happiness. The -law of human creation was working, and it would certainly work with -increasing energy if such were necessary for the happy existence of the -species. It already became apparent that a general bond was in process -of formation above these groups, a common link which would some day -join them all together in a vast system of social reorganisation, which -would prove the one code of the future community. - -However, the idea of escaping from La Crêcherie by imitating it seemed -too good a one to have emanated from a man of Gourier's intellect. Thus -the general opinion was that it must have been suggested to the mayor -by Sub-Prefect Prefect Châtelard, who kept himself more and more in the -background and displayed more and more quiet indifference as Beauclair -gradually transformed itself. The guess was a correct one, for the -matter had been settled at a little _déjeuner_, when the mayor and the -sub-prefect had sat face to face with only the ever-beautiful Léonore -beside them. - -'My dear fellow,' had said the sub-prefect, with his amiable smile, 'I -believe that we are at the end of our tether. Everything is going from -worse to worse in Paris, and the Revolution is approaching to sweep -away whatever remains of the old, rotting, ruinous social edifice. -Here, our chief man, Boisgelin, is a poor, vain creature, who will be -drained of his last copper by little Madame Delaveau. Nobody excepting -her husband is ignorant of what becomes of the money that he still -makes at the Abyss in his heroic struggle against bankruptcy. And -you'll see what a disaster there will be presently. So it would really -be foolish if one did not think of oneself if one does not wish to be -dragged down with the others.' - -At this Léonore showed some anxiety. 'Are you, yourself, threatened, my -friend?' she asked. - -'I? Oh, no! Who thinks of me? No Government will trouble about my -paltry self, for I am clever enough to do as little as possible in -the way of administrative duties, and I am always of precisely the -same opinion as my superiors, whoever they may be. I shall die here, -forgotten and happy, when the last Ministry collapses. But it is of you -that I am thinking, my good friends.' - -Thereupon he explained his ideas and enumerated all the advantages -that would accrue from anticipating the Revolution by making a -second Crêcherie of the Gourier boot-works. The profits would not be -diminished--on the contrary. Besides, he was convinced--he was too -intelligent, said he, to fail to understand the truth--the future lay -in that direction, reorganised labour would end by sweeping the old -iniquitous _bourgeoise_ society away. As Châtelard proceeded it became -manifest that in that peaceful, sceptical functionary who deliberately -preserved an attitude of absolute inactivity, there had sprung up a -genuine Anarchist, though in public he carefully kept this concealed -beneath a demeanour of diplomatic reserve. - -'You know, my dear Gourier,' he concluded with a laugh, 'all this won't -prevent me from declaring myself openly against you when you have gone -over to the new community. I shall say that you are a traitor or that -you have lost your reason. But I shall embrace you whenever I come -here, for you will have played them all a fine trick, which will bring -you in a deal of money. You'll see what faces they'll pull!' - -All the same, Gourier was quite scared by the other's suggestions. He -did not consent, but argued the matter at great length. The whole of -his past life rose up in protest. He rebelled at the idea of becoming -nothing more than the partner of hundreds of workers, of whom hitherto -he had been absolute master. Beneath his heavy exterior, however, -there was a very shrewd business mind; he fully understood that he -would risk nothing by the change, but, on the contrary, would assure -his establishment against all the dangers of the future should he -adopt the advice of Châtelard. Besides, he himself had been touched -by the passing gale, that exaltation, that passion for reform, whose -contagious fever at times of Revolution transports the very classes -which are about to be despoiled. Gourier, indeed, ended by believing -that the other's idea was his own, even as Léonore, by the advice of -her friend Châtelard, repeated to him every morning, and thus he at -last set to work. - -The whole _bourgeoisie_ of Beauclair was scandalised. Deputations -called upon Judge Gaume to beg him to intervene with the mayor, since -the sub-prefect, anxious to avoid compromising the Government, had -formally declined to meddle in this sorry affair, which he proclaimed -to be scandalous. Judge Gaume now led a very retired life, seeing -virtually nobody since his daughter Lucile, compromised it seemed -beyond remedy by an intrigue with a notary's clerk, had been obliged -to seek a refuge with him. On being approached he followed the same -course as Châtelard, and showed great unwillingness to go to the mayor -with representations which the latter would doubtless take in very bad -part. It was then resolved to bring pressure to bear upon the judge. -Captain Jollivet, his son-in-law, after Lucile's flight from her home, -had, with growing wrath, thrown himself into reactionary courses. He -contributed such violent articles to the 'Journal de Beauclair' that -Lebleu, the printer and proprietor, becoming anxious at the turn which -things were taking, feeling that it was necessary to be on the side -of the stronger, and thus pass from the Abyss to the Crêcherie party, -one day closed his door to him. The captain, thus disarmed and reduced -to idleness, spent his time in airing his futile rancour abroad, when -the idea suddenly occurred to his fellow-townsmen that he alone might -compel the judge to range himself on their side. As a matter of fact -the captain had not broken off all intercourse with his father-in-law; -they exchanged salutes whenever they met. Accordingly, on being -entrusted with the delicate mission, Jollivet presented himself at -the judge's house in the most ceremonious fashion, and two long hours -elapsed before he came out of it again. It was then learnt that he had -only been able to extract some evasive replies from his father-in-law, -but that he had become reconciled with his wife. On the following day -she returned to the conjugal roof, the captain having forgiven her on -her solemn promise that she would never transgress again. All Beauclair -was stupefied by this _dénouement_ to a very scandalous business, and -the affair ended in a great outburst of laughter. - -It was the Mazelles who ultimately succeeded in drawing from Gaume an -expression of his views, and this purely by chance, without having -been entrusted with any mission whatever. As a rule the judge went out -every morning and made his way to the Boulevard de Magnolles, a long, -deserted avenue, where he walked up and down in a gloomy reverie, -with his head bent and his hands clasped behind him. He stooped as if -beneath some final collapse, as if weighed down by the failure of his -whole life, the harm he had done, or the good which he had found he -could not do. And whenever he raised his eyes for a moment and gazed -far away, he seemed to be looking and waiting for something which did -not come, which perchance he would never see. Now one morning, on the -Boulevard de Magnolles, the Mazelles, who had risen early to go to -mass, mustered sufficient courage to approach the judge in order to ask -him his opinion on public affairs, so greatly did they fear that these -would lead to some disaster for themselves. - -'Well, Monsieur le Président, and what do you think of all that is -happening?' asked Monsieur Mazelle. - -The judge raised his head, and for a moment gazed into the distance. -Then, reverting to his torturing reverie, thinking aloud as though -nobody were listening to him, he said: 'I say that the hurricane is a -long time coming--yes, the hurricane of truth and justice which will -end by sweeping this abominable world away.' - -'What! what!' stammered the Mazelles, thunderstruck, and imagining that -they had misunderstood him. 'You want to frighten us, eh, because you -think that we are not over-brave? That's in a measure true, and people -tease us about it.' - -But Gaume had recovered his self-possession, and as soon as he -recognised the Mazelles, who stood before him scared, with pale faces, -perspiring with anxiety for their money and their idle lives, his lips -became curved into an expression of disdainful irony. 'What do you -fear?' he resumed; 'the world will well last another twenty years, -and if you are still alive then you will console yourselves for the -_ennuis_ of the Revolution by witnessing some very interesting things. -It is your daughter who ought to think of the future.' - -At this Madame Mazelle sorrowfully exclaimed: 'Ah! that's the very -thing that Louise does not think about--ah! not at all. She is scarcely -thirteen as yet, and when she hears us talking of what goes on, as we -naturally do from morning till evening, she finds it very funny. While -we despair she simply laughs. Whenever I say to her, "You wretched -girl, why, you won't have a penny," she jumps about like a goat, and -answers: "Oh! I don't mind that--no, not a bit; I shall be all the -merrier!" But, all the same, she's a very dear girl, although she does -so little of what we desire.' - -'Yes,' said Gaume; 'she dreams of mapping out her life for herself. -There _are_ girls like that.' - -Mazelle remained perplexed, for he feared that the judge was again -poking fun at him. The idea that he had made a fortune in ten years, -that he had since been leading the delightful life of sloth of which he -had dreamt already in his youth, and that his felicity might now come -to an end, that he might, perhaps, be compelled to work again if work -should become the general rule, filled him with ceaseless, intolerable -anguish, which was like a first punishment for his sins. - -'But the Rentes, Monsieur le Président, what would become of them, -in your opinion, if all those Anarchists should succeed in turning -the world topsy-turvy? As you may remember, that Monsieur Luc, who is -behaving so badly, used to make fun of us, saying that the Rentes would -be suppressed. In that case they may as well cut our throats.' - -'Sleep in peace, I tell you,' Gaume repeated with quiet irony, 'the new -social fabric will feed you if you won't work.' - -Then the Mazelles went off to church, where they now burnt tapers to -the Virgin in the hope of inducing her to cure Madame Mazelle; for -Doctor Novarre had one day been brute enough to tell the old lady that -she was not ill at all. Not ill, indeed! when she had been nursing her -illness so lovingly for so many years--that illness which was her very -life--to such a point had she made it her occupation, her joy, her -_raison d'être_! If the doctor forsook her it must be that he deemed -her incurable; at which thought, full of terror, she had addressed -herself to religion, in which she now found great relief. - -There was another promenader on the Boulevard de Magnolles, that desert -whose quietude was so seldom disturbed by any passer-by. This was Abbé -Marle, who came thither to read his breviary. But he often let the -hand which held the book fall beside him, whilst still slowly walking -on, absorbed, like the judge, in a gloomy reverie. Since the last -events, those incidents of the evolution which was bearing the town -towards a new destiny, his church had become still emptier. By way of -congregation, there only remained some very old women of the people, -dull-witted, obstinate creatures, and a few _bourgeoises_ who supported -religion because they deemed it to be the last rampart of fine society -which was now crumbling to pieces. When the last of the faithful should -desert the Catholic churches, leaving them to brambles and nettles -like the ruins of a dead social system, another civilisation would -begin. And with this threat above his head, the presence of the few -_bourgeoises_ and old women of the people in no wise consoled Abbé -Marle, who felt that the void around him was ever increasing. Léonore, -the mayor's wife, looked very decorative, no doubt, at high mass on -Sundays, and opened her purse widely to contribute to the expenses of -public worship; but he knew her indignity, her life of sin, which the -whole town accepted, and over which he himself had been compelled to -cast the cloak of his holy office, though he regarded that life as one -leading to eternal perdition, for which he himself would be accounted -responsible. And still less did the support of the Mazelles content -him. They were so childish and so basely egotistical. If they came to -him, it was solely in the hope of extracting some personal felicity -from heaven. Even as they had invested their money, so did they invest -their prayers--that is, with the object of deriving Rentes from them on -high. And one and all were the same in that dying society, all lacked -the true faith which in the first centuries had given Christianity its -force, all lacked the spirit of renunciation and absolute obedience--a -spirit which was more than ever necessary nowadays if the power of the -Church was to be maintained. Thus the priest no longer hid it from -himself--the days were numbered, and if God in His mercy did not soon -call him hence, he would, perhaps, behold the awful catastrophe--the -steeple of his church falling, bursting through the roof of the nave, -and crushing the altar of the Divinity. - -It was in such sombre reveries that he indulged for hours whilst he -walked about the Boulevard de Magnolles. He kept them well within him, -and affected to remain brave and haughty, full of disdain for passing -events, under the pretext that the Church was the mistress of eternity. -But whenever he met Hermeline the schoolmaster, who was in a continuous -rage over the successes of La Crêcherie, and ready to go over to the -reactionists in order to save the Republic, he no longer discussed -things with his former bitterness, but declared that he placed his -trust in the Divinity, who must certainly be allowing these Anarchist -saturnalia with the object of ultimately striking down the enemies of -religion, and thus making it triumphant. Doctor Novarre jestingly said -that the Abbé abandoned Sodom on the eve of the rain of fire. By Sodom -he meant Beauclair, that plague-spot, _bourgeois_ Beauclair, devoured -by egotism, the town condemned to be destroyed and of which the earth -must be purified, if on its site one desired to see the city of health -and delight, justice and peace arise. Every symptom pointed to the -approach of the final rending: the wage-system was at its last gasp, -the distracted _bourgeoisie_ was passing over to the revolutionists, -the despairing desire to save something of one's interests was bringing -all the living strength of the country over to the conquerors; and as -for what remained, the scattered, worn-out, unusable remnants of the -old system, they would be swept away by the wind. The radiant Beauclair -of to-morrow was already emerging from the ruins; and when Abbé Marle, -as he strolled under the trees of the Boulevard de Magnolles, let his -breviary fall, and slackening his pace, half-closed his eyes, it was -assuredly a vision of that coming city that arose before him and filled -him with such intense bitterness. - -At times, Judge Gaume and Abbé Marle met in the course of those silent -solitary walks. At first they did not see one another, but walked on -with lowered heads, so absorbed in the contemplation of what they -pictured that nothing of their surroundings remained visible to them. -Each on his own side chewed the cud of his own despair--the one his -regret for the world which was disappearing, the other his appeal to -the world which was now rising from the ground. Exhausted religion was -unwilling to die; justice, awaiting birth, was in despair that its -advent should be so long delayed. However, the two men at last raised -their heads, and recognised one another. Then it became necessary for -them to exchange a few words. - -'This is very gloomy weather, Monsieur le Président. We shall have some -rain,' the priest would say. - -'I fear so, Monsieur l'Abbé,' replied the judge. 'It is quite cold for -the month of June.' - -'Ah! how can it be otherwise? The seasons are all out of order now. -There is no equilibrium left.' - -'True; yet life goes on. The good sun will perhaps set everything right -again.' - -Then each resumed his solitary perambulations, sank into his -reflections, carrying hither and thither the eternal battle between the -past and the future. - -It was, however, especially at the Abyss that one felt the effects -of the evolution of Beauclair which the reorganisation of labour was -gradually transforming. At each fresh success achieved by La Crêcherie -Delaveau had to display more activity, intelligence, and courage; and -naturally everything which contributed to the prosperity of the rival -works to him brought disaster. Thus the discovery of excellent lodes of -ore in the once-abandoned mine dealt him a terrible blow, since it so -greatly reduced the price of raw material. He could no longer continue -struggling so far as commercial iron and steel were concerned. And the -manufacture of guns and projectiles likewise suffered. There had been -a marked falling off in orders since the money of France had been more -particularly spent on manufactures that symbolised peace and social -solidarity--such as railways, bridges, structures of all kinds in which -iron and steel triumphed. The worst was that the orders for ordnance, -which went to only a few establishments, no longer sufficed to enable -all of them to pay their way, and, if the market was to be cleared, -one of them at least must be killed. The least firmly established of -all being at that moment the Abyss, it was the latter which the other -competing foundries savagely resolved to destroy. - -The difficulties of the Abyss were becoming the greater since its -workmen no longer remained faithful to it. Ragu's attempt to kill Luc -had thrown the comrades that he left behind him into confusion. And -when Bourron, converted, brought round to reason, had returned to La -Crêcherie followed by Fauchard, a general movement set in, most of -the other men asking themselves why they should not follow Bourron's -example, since so many advantages awaited them yonder. The success of -Luc's experiment was now evident; the men employed at La Crêcherie -earned twice as much as at the Abyss, and yet they only worked eight -hours. And, besides, there were other attractions--the pleasant little -houses, the schools where the children learned things so well and so -merrily, the common-house which was ever _en fête_, and the general -stores, whose prices were fully a third lower than those of other -places, the whole tending to increase of health and increase of comfort. - -Nothing is of any avail against figures. The men of the Abyss, wishing -to earn as much as those of La Crêcherie demanded a rise in wages. As -it was impossible to grant this demand, many of them naturally went -off. And, finally, Delaveau was paralysed by the lack of a reserve -fund. He did not yet confess himself conquered; he would have held -out for a long time, and would, in his own opinion, have ended by -triumphing if he had possessed a few hundred thousand francs to help -him to pass through this crisis, which he obstinately believed to be -a temporary one. Only how was he to continue fighting? how was he to -face pay-days when money failed him? Moreover, the money which he had -already borrowed was proving a crushing charge on the business. Yet he -struggled on heroically, ever erect, devoting all his intelligence, -his very life, to his work, in the hope that he might still save the -crumbling past which he supported, and that he might wring from the -capital entrusted to him the revenue that he had promised. - -Delaveau's worst sufferings, indeed, arose from the fact that he -could no longer hand Boisgelin the profits which he had covenanted to -extract from the business, and his defeat became materialised in the -most cruel fashion on the days when he was compelled to refuse his -cousin money. Although on the last occasion when accounts had been -balanced the position had proved to be disastrous, Boisgelin would in -no respect curtail his expenditure at La Guerdache. In this matter -he was inflamed by Fernande, who treated her husband like an ox at -the plough, one that needed to be goaded till it bled in order to -discharge its work properly. Never had the young woman shown herself -more ardent, more insatiable than now. She was consumed by a passion -for excesses. There was something wild in her glance, something that -suggested a desire for the impossible. Her acquaintances felt anxious -about her, and Sub-Prefect Châtelard confidentially told Mayor Gourier -that the little woman would assuredly end by perpetrating some great -piece of folly, from which all of them would suffer. Hitherto she -had contented herself with changing her home into a hell by urging -Boisgelin upon her husband, pressing him with continual demands for -money, whereby Delaveau was thrown into such a state of exasperation -that he even continued growling at night when resting his head on the -conjugal pillow. Fernande, by her remarks, maliciously kept his wound -open. Nevertheless, he still adored her, set her upon one side like an -innocent, immaculate being whom it was impossible to suspect. - -November came with intense early cold. The payments which fell due -that month were so large that Delaveau fancied he could feel the very -ground he walked upon trembling beneath him. He had not the necessary -amount of money in the safe. On the evening before the day on which -the payments had to be made he shut himself up in his private room -to reflect and write some letters, whilst Fernande went to dine at -La Guerdache, whither she had been invited. Though she was unaware -of it, he himself had gone thither in the morning, and had had a -decisive conversation with Boisgelin, in which, after plainly stating -the terrible position, he had at last prevailed on him to reduce his -expenditure. He meant to limit him to a proper allowance for several -years, and had even advised him to sell La Guerdache. And now, alone -in his private room, Delaveau walked about slowly, every now and -then mechanically stirring the large coke fire which was burning in -a kind of stove before the chimney-piece. The only possible means of -salvation was to secure time: he must write to the creditors, who -could not possibly desire to see the works closed. However, he did not -hurry about it; he would write his letters after dinner. Meantime, he -continued thinking whilst going from one window to the other, ever -returning to the one whence he could see the far-spreading lands of La -Crêcherie, even to the distant park and the pavilion where Luc resided. -The cold, frosty atmosphere was very clear, and the sun was setting in -a sky as pure as crystal, a pale golden glow bringing the growing town -into delicate relief against a purple background. Never had Delaveau -seen it so plainly. It seemed to palpitate with life; he could have -counted the light slender branches of the trees, and he was able to -distinguish the smallest details of the houses, down to the decorations -of faïence which rendered them so gay. There came a moment when, under -the oblique rays of the sun, all the windows began to flame and sparkle -like hundreds of bonfires. It was like a triumph, a glory. And Delaveau -remained there, drawing the cretonne curtains aside, and gazing at that -triumph with his face close to the window-pane. - -Even as Luc over yonder, at the other end of the lands of La -Crêcherie, occasionally watched his town marching on, spreading out -and threatening the Abyss with invasion, so Delaveau on his side often -came to gaze at it, and found it ever growing, threatening him with -conquest. How many times of recent years had he not lingered at that -window, and on each occasion he had seen the rising tide of houses -growing larger and drawing nearer to the Abyss. It had started from a -remote point of a great stretch of uncultivated, deserted land; one -house had appeared there like a little wave, then another, and another. -And those waves had covered the whole space before them, and now they -were only a few hundred yards away, and were rolling in a sea of -incalculable power, ready to carry off everything which might oppose -them. To-morrow would witness an irresistible invasion; all the past -would be swept away, the Abyss and Beauclair, too, would be replaced by -the young and triumphant city. At one moment, when a very severe crisis -had fallen on La Crêcherie, Delaveau had hoped that the advance would -stop, but before long the new town had resumed its march so impulsively -that the old walls of the Abyss were now already shaking. Yet he would -not despair; he tried to stiffen himself against the evidence of facts, -and flattered himself that he would find the necessary dyke and rampart -in his own energy. - -That particular evening, however, he was enervated by anxiety, and -began to feel some covert regrets. Had he not formerly made a mistake -in letting Bonnaire take himself off? He remembered certain prophetic -words spoken by that strong, yet simple, man at the time of the great -strike. And it was on the morrow of that strike that Bonnaire, like a -good worker, had helped to found La Crêcherie. Since then the Abyss had -scarcely ever ceased to decline: Ragu had besmirched it with attempted -murder; Bourron, Fauchard, and others were quitting it as they might -have quitted an accursed ruin-breeding spot. And afar off the new town -was still flaming in the sunlight. At the sight of it sudden anger -seized upon Delaveau--anger whose violence restored him to himself, to -the beliefs of his whole life. No, no! he had been right, the truth was -in the past; nothing could be extracted from men unless one bent them -beneath the authority of dogma; the wage-system remained the true law -of labour, and beyond its pale there could be naught save madness and -catastrophe. Then Delaveau, intent on seeing nothing more, drew the -large cretonne curtains together, lighted his little electric lamp, and -again began to reflect as he strolled about his well-closed room, which -the glowing stove rendered extremely warm. - -At last, after dinner, Delaveau sat down at his writing table to attend -to his letters, in accordance with the plans which he had been maturing -for hours, plans whereby he hoped to save the business. Midnight -struck and he still sat there, completing that worrying and difficult -correspondence. And doubts had now come to him, he was again possessed -by fear. Did salvation really lie in the direction he was taking? What -would he be able to do, even if the delays he asked for should be -granted? Exhausted by the superhuman effort he was making to save the -Abyss, he at last bowed his head and let it rest upon his hands. And -thus he remained, deep in anguish. But at that same moment the rattle -of a carriage was heard, and words rang out. Fernande had just returned -from the dinner at La Guerdache, and was sending the servants to bed. - -When she entered her husband's private room it was with hasty gestures -and excited speech, like a woman who is beside herself, one who has -been restraining and nursing her anger for hours. - -'Good heavens, how hot it is here! How can one live with such a fire?' - -Then sinking back in an armchair she unclasped and threw off the -magnificent furs which covered her shoulders, and appeared in all her -marvellous beauty, gowned in silk and white lace, with arms and bosom -bare. Her husband expressed no surprise at her luxurious ways--he did -not even notice them--he loved her solely for herself, her beauty; and -passion always rendered him obedient to her whims, deprived him of -both foresight and strength. Never, too, had a more intoxicating charm -emanated from her person than at this period. - -That evening, however, when Delaveau, with his head still buzzing, -looked up at her, he became anxious: 'What is the matter with you, my -dear?' he asked. - -It was evident that she was greatly upset. Her large dark blue eyes, -which as a rule had such a caressing expression, now glowed with a -sombre fire. Her little mouth, which usually smiled in such a tenderly -deceitful way, opened, showing her strong teeth, whose lustre nothing -could tarnish, and which seemed ready to bite. And the whole of her -face, which displayed such a charming oval under her black hair, was -swollen as by a craving for violence. - -'What is the matter with me?' she ended by saying, whilst she still -quivered, 'Nothing.' - -Silence fell again, and amidst the lifeless quietude of that winter -night one heard the growling of the busy Abyss, the blows of whose -hammers continuously shook the house. As a rule the Delaveaus remained -unconscious of it, but that night, in spite of the falling off in -business, the huge steam-hammer had been set to work to forge the tube -of a great gun in all haste; and the ground quaked, the vibrations of -each blow seemed to resound in that very room, coming thither along the -light wooden gallery which connected it with the works. - -'Come, there is something the matter with you,' Delaveau resumed. 'Why -won't you tell me what it is?' - -A gesture of wrathful impatience escaped Fernande, who replied: 'Let us -go to bed, that will be better.' - -Nevertheless she did not stir; with feverish hands she continued -twisting her fan, whilst her breath came short and quick, and her bosom -heaved. At last she blurted out what was stifling her. - -'So you went to La Guerdache this morning?' - -'Yes, I went there,' answered Delaveau. - -'And what Boisgelin has just told me is true, then? The works are in -danger of bankruptcy, we are on the eve of ruin--such ruin, indeed, -that I shall have to content myself with woollen gowns and dry bread!' - -'I had to tell him the truth.' - -Fernande was trembling, and had to restrain herself from bursting -forth into reproaches and insults at once. It was all over, her life -of enjoyment was threatened--nay, ended. No more festivities, neither -dinners, nor balls, nor hunts, would be given at La Guerdache. Its -doors would be closed to her, for had not Boisgelin confessed that -he would perhaps be compelled to sell the property? And her dream -of returning to Paris with millions to squander was ended also. All -that she had imagined she held within her grasp, fortune, luxury, and -pleasure, had crumbled to pieces. Nought but ruin encompassed her, -and that wretched Boisgelin had increased her exasperation by his -supineness, his cowardice in bending his head beneath the disaster. - -'You never tell me anything about our affairs,' she continued bitterly. -'I'm treated as if I were a fool. That news fell on me as if the very -ceilings were coming down. But if things are like that what are we -going to do, just tell me?' - -'We shall work,' Delaveau simply answered; 'there is no other means of -salvation possible.' - -But she did not hear his last words, she had ceased to listen. 'Did you -for a moment imagine,' said she, 'that I should consent to remain with -nothing to wear, to trudge about in worn-out boots and begin afresh -that wretched life which I remember like a nightmare? Ah, no! I'm not -like you others, I won't have it, I won't. You will have to arrange -something, you and Boisgelin between you, for I won't be poor again.' - -Then she went on pouring forth all that was distracting her mind. -There was her wretched youth, when living with her mother, the music -teacher, she had failed to capture the prize which her great beauty -had seemed to promise her--for after seduction she had been abandoned. -And following upon that odious adventure, the memory of which she hid -deep within her, had come her marriage, all calculation and diplomacy, -the acceptance of that ugly insignificant Delaveau whom she had taken -because she felt the need of some support, a husband whom she might -put to use. And then had come a lucky stroke, the acquisition of the -Abyss, the success of her plans, her husband procuring victory for her, -Boisgelin conquered, La Guerdache and every luxury and enjoyment at her -disposal. Twelve years had followed, replete with all the pleasures -that she had tasted there, like the enjoyer, the perverter she was, -satisfying her endless appetites and the dark rancour amassed within -her since childhood, happy in lying, betraying, bringing ruin and -disorder with her, and, in particular, exulting over the tears which -she drew from Suzanne's eyes. But now, to think that this was not to -last, that she was destined to relapse, vanquished, into the poverty of -her former days! - -'You must arrange something--arrange something,' she repeated. 'I -won't go bare; I won't dispense with anything to which I have been -accustomed!' - -Delaveau, growing impatient, shrugged his sturdy shoulders. He was -still resting his massive bulldog head, with projecting jaws, upon -his two fists, whilst looking at her with his big dark eyes, his face -reddened the while by the great heat of the fire. - -'You were right, my dear,' said he, 'don't let us talk of these -matters, for you seem to me to be scarcely reasonable to-night. I am -very fond of you, as you know, and am ready to make any sacrifice to -spare you suffering. But I hope that you will resign yourself to doing -as I myself intend to do. I mean to fight as long as there is breath -in my body. If necessary I shall get up at five in the morning, live -on a crust of bread, give my whole day to work, and no doubt I shall -go to bed at night feeling quite content. Besides, what if you do have -to wear more simple gowns, and have to go out on foot! Only the other -evening you yourself were telling me how all these pleasures, ever the -same, wearied and disgusted you!' - -This was true. Fernande's blue, caressing eyes darkened till they -almost became black as she thought of it. For some time past she had -failed to satisfy her passion for enjoyment. Though she was unwilling -to give up her present life, it palled upon her. She was full of -rancour against both her husband and her lover, who no longer amused -her, and she often wondered wrathfully whether she would ever feel -amused again. Thus, it was with insulting contempt that she had greeted -the lamentations of Boisgelin when the latter had told her of his -despair at being compelled to cut down his expenses. And this also -was why she had returned home in such a passion, eager to bite and to -destroy. - -'Yes, yes,' she stammered, 'those pleasures which are always the same! -Ah! it isn't you who'll ever give me any new ones!' - -In the works the heavy blows of the steam hammer still resounded, -making the ground tremble. Long had that hammer forged delight for her, -by wringing from steel the wealth she coveted, whilst the grimy flock -of toilers gave their lives in order that her own might be one of full -and free enjoyment. For a moment she listened to the dolorous commotion -of labour sounding amidst the heavy silence. Then, with her savage -hatred increasing, she turned upon her husband. 'It is all your fault -if this has happened!' she cried, 'I told Boisgelin so. If you had -begun by strangling that wretched Luc Froment, we should not now be on -the eve of ruin. But you have never known how to conduct business.' - -At this Delaveau abruptly rose from his chair, and, resisting the anger -which was gaining on him, retorted, 'Let's go to bed. If we went on -discussing, you would end by making me say things which I should regret -afterwards.' - -But she did not stir; she continued speaking so bitterly, so -aggressively, accusing her husband of having wrecked her life, that he, -on his side, waxing brutal, at last exclaimed: 'Why, when I married -you, my dear, you hadn't a halfpenny; it was I who had to buy you some -clothes. You were on the point of falling to the streets, and where -would you have been now?' - -At this, thrusting her face and bosom forward, she answered, with a -murderous glance, 'What! do you imagine that, beautiful as I was, a -prince's daughter, I should have accepted such a man as you, ugly, -common, and without position, if I had only had bread? Just look at -yourself, my friend! I took you because you promised to win a fortune, -a royal position for me. And if I tell you this it is because you have -kept none of your engagements.' - -Delaveau was now standing before her, letting her talk on, whilst -clenching his fists and striving to retain his _sangfroid_. - -'You hear!' she repeated, with furious obstinacy, 'none of your -engagements--none! No more with Boisgelin than with me, for it's -certainly you who have ruined the poor fellow. You prevailed on him -to trust his money to you; you promised him a fabulous income, and -now he won't even have enough money left him to buy a pair of shoes. -When a man isn't capable of managing a large business, my friend, he -remains a petty clerk, and lives in a hovel with a wife ugly enough -and stupid enough to wash a pack of children, and mend their socks. -Yes, bankruptcy has come, and it is your fault; you hear me, your -fault--yours! yours alone!' - -Delaveau was unable to restrain himself any longer. Those savage words -tortured him as if a knife had been turned round and round in his heart -and conscience. To think that he had loved that woman so well, and to -hear her speak of their marriage as a base bargain, in which on her -side there had only been so much necessity and calculation! For nearly -fifteen years he had been striving so loyally and so heroically to -keep the promise he had made his cousin, and yet she accused him of -incapacity and lack of business knowledge! He caught hold of her bare -arms with both hands, and shook her, saying in a low tone, as if he -feared that the sound of his own voice might unhinge him, 'Be quiet, -you unhappy woman; do not madden me!' - -But she in her turn arose and freed herself, stammering with anger and -pain at the sight of the red circles which his rough grasp had left -round her delicate white arms. 'You beat me now, you blackguard, you -brute!' she cried. 'Ah! you beat me, you beat me!' - -And again she thrust forward her beautiful face, now convulsed by -wrath, and spat out all her contempt full in that man's countenance -which she longed to lacerate with her nails. Never had she hated him -so much; never had the sight of his massive bulldog figure irritated -her to such a degree as now. All the rancour amassed within her arose -once more, urged her on to some irreparable insult which should end -everything. With instinctive cruelty she sought a means of inflicting -some poisonous wound, something that should make him howl and suffer. - -'You are only a brute!' she cried. 'You are not capable of directing a -gang of ten men!' - -At this singular insult, which seemed to him stupid and childish, -Delaveau burst into convulsive laughter. And this laughter exasperated -Fernande to such a point that she became half delirious. What could she -say to him that would prove a mortal blow and bring his laughter to an -end? - -'Yes, it was I who made you what you are!' she exclaimed. 'If it had -not been for me you would not have remained director of the Abyss a -single year!' - -At this he laughed all the louder: 'You are mad, my dear; you say such -stupid things that they don't affect me!' - -'I say foolish things, do I? So it was not thanks to me that you kept -your place?' - -Confession had suddenly risen to her throat. Ah! to shout it full in -his dog's face, to shout that she had never loved him, and that she -was another's mistress. That was the knife-thrust which would make -his laughter cease. And how it would relieve her! what terrible and -ferocious and voluptuous enjoyment she would taste in that collapse -of her life which was already crumbling to pieces! She flung herself -into the pit with a cry of horrible delight: 'The things I say are not -stupid, for I've been Boisgelin's mistress for twelve years past.' - -Delaveau did not immediately understand her. Those horrible words, -striking him full in the face, had almost stunned him. - -'What is that you say?' - -'I say that I've been Boisgelin's mistress for twelve years past, and -since there's nothing left, since all is falling to pieces, well, -there, that's the end of it!' - -In his turn half delirious, stammering, with his teeth clenched, -Delaveau rushed upon her, caught hold of her arms, shook her, and threw -her into the arm-chair. He would have liked to pound and annihilate -all that provoking nudity which she displayed, her bare shoulders and -bare bosom, to prevent her from ever insulting and torturing him again. -The veil was at last torn away, and he saw and divined things clearly. -She had never loved him; her life beside him had never been aught -but hypocrisy, ruse, falsehood, and betrayal. From that beautiful, -polished, charming woman whom he had adored there suddenly emerged -a she-wolf, all sombre fury and brutal instinct. Many things of the -cause of which he had been ignorant had sprung from her; she was the -perverter, the poisoner, who had slowly corrupted all around her; hers -was the flesh of cruelty and treachery, whose enjoyment had been made -up of the tears and blood of others. - -But whilst he was still struggling with his stupefaction she insulted -him again: 'With your fists, eh, you brute! Oh! go on, hit, hit, like -your workmen do when they are drunk!' - -Then, amidst the frightful silence which fell between them, Delaveau -heard the rhythmic blows of the steam-hammer, the commotion of labour -which, without a pause, accompanied both his days and his nights. -The sound came to him like a well-known voice, whose clear language -acquainted him with the whole of the horrible adventure. Was it not -Fernande, with her little teeth of unchangeable lustre, who had -devoured all the wealth which yonder hammer had forged? That burning -thought possessed his brain: she was the devourer, the one cause of -the disaster, of the squandering of millions, of the inevitable, -approaching bankruptcy. Whilst he had been heroically striving to keep -his promises, working eighteen hours a day, endeavouring to save the -old and crumbling world, it was she who had gnawed at the edifice and -rotted it. She had lived there beside him, looking so quiet, with her -soft smiling face, and yet she herself was the poison, the destructive -agent who had paralysed his efforts and annihilated his work. Yes, ruin -had ever been present beside him, at his table, in his bed, and he had -not seen it. She had shaken everything with her little agile hands, and -pulverised everything with her little white teeth. He remembered nights -when she had returned from La Guerdache, intoxicated by the caresses of -her lover, by the wine she had drunk, by the waltzes she had danced, -by the money which she had flung around her, and, when she had slept -off that intoxication, lying by his side, whilst he, with his eyes wide -open, peering into the darkness, tortured his brain in striving to -devise some means for saving the Abyss, and did not even stir for fear -of disturbing her slumber. And this, which seemed to him the supreme -horror of all, inspired him with mad fury and made him shout: 'You -shall die!' - -She sat up in the chair, her elbows resting on its arms, her bare bosom -and her charming face again thrust forward under her black casque of -splendid hair: 'Oh! as for that I'm agreeable. I've had enough of you -and the others, and myself, and life as well! I'd rather die than live -in wretchedness.' - -'You shall die! you shall die!' he howled, growing wilder and wilder. - -But he had no weapon, and vainly sought one whilst he turned around the -room. He had not even a knife, nothing save his two hands, with which -he might strangle her. But what use would that be? What could he do -afterwards--could he go on living? A knife would have sufficed for both. - -She noticed his embarrassment, his momentary hesitation, and triumphed -over it, believing that he would not again find the strength to kill -her. And in her turn she began to laugh, with an insulting, taunting -laugh. 'What! are you not going to kill me, then? Kill me, kill me -then, if you dare!' - -All at once, in the midst of his wild search for a weapon, Delaveau -perceived the sheet-iron stove in which such a brasier of coke was -glowing that the room seemed to be on fire already. And utter dementia -suddenly fell upon him, making him forget everything, even his -daughter, his fondly-loved Nise, who was sleeping quietly in her little -room on the second floor. Oh! to make an end of himself, annihilate -himself amidst the fury which transported him! Oh! to carry that -hateful woman to death, so that she might never more belong to another, -and to go with her, and cease to live, since life was now utterly -soiled and wrecked! - -She was still urging him on with her lashing, contemptuous laugh. 'Kill -me! kill me then! You are far too big a coward to kill me!' - -Yes, yes, thought Delaveau, to burn everything, to destroy everything -by a huge conflagration in which the house and the works alike would -disappear, a conflagration which would complete the work of ruin -carried on by that woman and her idiotic lover! Ay, a gigantic pyre -on which he himself would crumble into ashes with that malignant, -devouring, lying creature, amidst the smoking ruins of that old social -system which he had so foolishly striven to defend. - -With a terrible kick, he overturned the stove, and projected it into -the middle of the room, ever repeating his shout: 'You shall die! you -shall die!' - -The red-hot coke spread in a red sheet over the carpet. Some pieces -rolled as far as one of the windows. Then the cretonne curtains were -the first to flare, whilst the carpet began to burn. The furniture and -the walls flamed in their turn with overwhelming rapidity. The house, -which was but lightly built, caught fire and sparkled and smoked like a -mere wisp of hay. - -The rest was frightful. Fernande had sprung up in her terror, gathering -the silk and lace of her skirts together, and seeking a passage where -the flames would not reach them. She darted towards the door opening -into the hall, feeling certain that she would have time to escape, that -she would reach the garden at a bound. But in front of the door she -found Delaveau, whose arms barred her passage. He looked so terrible -that she then sprang towards the other door, the one which opened into -the wooden gallery, connecting the room with the works. But it was too -late to flee in that direction--the gallery was burning, acting like a -chimney, in which the draught urged on the flames with such rapidity -that the adjacent business offices were already threatened. So she came -back to the centre of the room, stumbling, blinded, suffocating, full -of rage and terror at feeling that her dress was flaring, that her -uncoiled hair also was catching fire, covering her bare shoulders with -burns. And in a frightful voice she gasped: - -'I will not die! I will not die! let me pass, murderer! murderer!' - -Then again she threw herself towards the door opening into the hall, -and strove to force a passage, rushing upon her husband, who still -stood there, erect and motionless, full of fierce determination. -Without any violence he simply repeated: 'I tell you that you are going -to die.' - -To force him to give way, she dug her nails into his flesh, and then -only did he catch hold of her again and bring her back into the centre -of the room, which had now become a perfect brasier. And here there -was a horrible battle. She struggled with all her strength, which was -increased tenfold by the dread of death; she sought the doors, the -windows with the instinctive eagerness of a wounded animal; whilst he -still kept her amidst the flames in which he wished to die, and in -which he wished her to perish with him, in order that the whole of -their abominable existence might be annihilated. And to accomplish -this he needed all the strength of his strong arms, for the walls were -cracking, and ten times in succession did he have to drag her from the -outlets by which she might have escaped. At last he imprisoned her in -a final savage embrace, and they fell together amidst the embers of -the flooring, whilst the last hangings burnt away like torches, and -ardent brands rained from the woodwork overhead. And although she bit -him, he did not release her, but held her fast, carrying her away into -nothingness, both of them burning together with the same avenging fire. -Soon all was over, the ceiling fell upon them with a great crumbling of -flaming beams. - - * * * * * - -That night at La Crêcherie, as Nanet left the machinery gallery, where -he was now serving his apprenticeship as an electrician, he perceived -a red glow in the direction of the Abyss. At first he imagined that it -came from the cementing furnaces. But its brightness increased, and -all at once he understood the truth--the manager's house was on fire. -He experienced a sudden shock, for he thought of Nise, and then ran -off wildly and came into collision with the party-wall, over which, in -former times, they had both climbed so nimbly in order to be together. -And once again, with the help of hands and feet, he somehow got over -the wall and found himself in the garden, alone as yet, for no alarm -had been given. It was, indeed, the house that was burning, and the -frightful feature of the conflagration was that like a fire lighted -at the base of some huge pyre, it spread from ground-floor to roof, -without anybody within showing sign of life. The windows remained -closed, and the door was already burning, in such wise that one could -neither go in nor out. It merely seemed to Nanet that he could hear -some loud cries and a commotion like that of some horrible death -struggle. But at last the shutters of one of the second-floor windows -were flung back violently, and then, amidst the smoke, appeared Nise, -all in white, wearing only her chemise and a petticoat. She called for -help and leant out, terrified. - -'Don't be frightened, don't be frightened,' cried Nanet in distraction, -'I'm going up.' - -He had perceived a long ladder lying alongside a shed. But on going -to take it he found that it was chained. A moment of terrible anguish -ensued. The lad took up a large stone and struck the padlock with all -his strength in order to break it. Meantime the flames were roaring, -and the whole of the first floor took fire amidst such an outpouring -of smoke and sparks, that at certain moments Nise, up above, quite -disappeared from sight. Nanet still heard her cries, however, which -grew wilder and wilder, and he struck and struck the padlock, whilst -calling in response: 'Wait! wait! I'm coming!' - -At last the padlock was crushed and he was able to take the ladder. He -never remembered afterwards how he had managed to set it erect. It was -a prodigious feat; but he was able to rear it under the window. Then, -however, he perceived that it was too short, and such was his despair -at the discovery that his courage wavered. Boy hero that he was, only -sixteen years of age, he was resolved to save that young girl of -thirteen, his friend and playmate; but he was losing his head, and no -longer knew how to act. - -Nevertheless, he called again: 'Wait! wait! It doesn't matter, I'll -come somehow!' - -At that moment one of the two servant girls, whose garret bedroom had -a window opening on to the roof, managed to get out, clutching hold of -the guttering. But, maddened by terror, imagining that the flames were -already reaching her, she suddenly leapt into space and fell, dead, -with her skull broken, beside the flight of steps. - -Nanet, unhinged by Nise's cries, which had become more and more -frightful, fancied that she also was about to jump out. He pictured her -lying at his feet, covered with blood, and he raised a last terrible -call: 'Don't jump; I'm coming, I'm coming!' - -Then, in spite of everything, the young fellow ascended the ladder, and -when he reached the burning first floor he entered the house by one of -the windows whose panes had been burst by the violence of the heat. -Help was now arriving; there were a number of people already on the -road and in the garden. And the throng spent some minutes of frightful -anxiety in watching one child save the other with such wild bravery. -The conflagration was still and ever spreading; the walls cracked, and -the very ladder seemed to ignite as it stood against the house front, -whilst neither the boy nor the girl reappeared. But at last Nanet came -back, carrying Nise on his shoulders as a shepherd may carry a lamb. -He had managed to climb through the furnace from one story to the -other, take her up, and come down again; but his hair was singed and -his clothes were burning, and when he had slipped, rather than stepped, -down the ladder with his well-loved burden, both he and she were -covered with burns and fell fainting in one another's arms, clasped in -so close an embrace that they had to be carried thus to La Crêcherie, -whither Sœurette, who had now been warned, repaired to nurse them. - -Half an hour later the house fell; not a stone of it remained standing. -And the worst was that the fire, after reaching the general offices by -way of the wooden gallery, had now gained the neighbouring buildings, -and was devouring the great hall where the puddling-furnaces and the -rolling-machinery were installed. The entire works were in danger; the -fire blazed amidst those old buildings, almost all of which were of dry -woodwork. It was said that the Delaveaus' other servant, having managed -to escape by way of the kitchen, had been the first to give the alarm -to the night-shifts, who had hurried up from the works. But they had -no fire-engine, and nothing could be done till their comrades of La -Crêcherie, headed by Luc himself, came in brotherly fashion to the help -of the rival establishment with both engine and firemen. The Beauclair -fire brigade, whose organisation was very defective, only turned up -afterwards. And it was too late to save the Abyss; it was now blazing -from one to the other end of its sordid workshops over an expanse of -several acres, forming a huge brasier whence emerged only the lofty -chimneys and the tower in which great cannon were tempered. - -When the dawn rose after that night of disaster numerous groups of -people still stood before the smouldering wreckage under the livid, -chilly November sky. The Beauclair authorities, Sub-Prefect Châtelard -and Mayor Gourier, had not quitted the scene of the catastrophe, and -Judge Gaume was with them, as well as his son-in-law, Captain Jollivet. -Abbé Marle, warned late, only arrived when it was light, and was soon -followed by a stream of inquisitive folk, _bourgeois_ and shopkeepers, -the Mazelles, the Laboques, the Caffiaux, and even Dacheux. A gust of -terror was sweeping by; one and all spoke with bated breath, their -great anxiety being to know how such a catastrophe could possibly -have taken place. Only one witness remained, the servant-girl who -had managed to escape. She related that Madame had returned from La -Guerdache about midnight, and that immediately afterwards there had -been some loud shouting, after which the flames had suddenly appeared. -People listened to her, and repeated her story in low tones; and -those who had been intimate with the Delaveaus divined the frightful -tragedy which had taken place. It was evident, as the servant said, -that Monsieur and Madame had perished in the fire. The horror, which -was spreading, increased still further on the arrival of Boisgelin, -who had to be helped out of his carriage, such was his faintness and -pallor. He ended by swooning, and Doctor Novarre had to attend to him -there, before that field of ruin where the remnants of his fortune were -smoking, and where the bones of Delaveau and Fernande were at last -crumbling into dust. - -However, Luc continued directing the last efforts made by his men to -save the still burning gallery where the steam-hammer was installed. -Jordan, wrapped in a rug, obstinately remained in spite of the intense -cold. Bonnaire, who had arrived one of the first, had distinguished -himself by his courage in saving such machinery and appliances as was -possible. Bourron, Fauchard, and all the other former hands of the -Abyss who had gone to La Crêcherie, helped him, exerted themselves -devotedly on that ground which they knew so well, where they had -toiled for so many dolorous years. But destiny in its fury seemed to -have transformed itself into a hurricane. In spite of all the efforts, -everything was carried, swept away, and annihilated. Fire the avenger, -fire the purifier had fallen upon the walls like lightning, razed -everything, cleared the expanse of the ruins with which the downfall of -the old world had littered it. And now the work was done, the ground -stretched away clear and open, and the rising city of justice and peace -might carry its conquering waves of houses even to the end of the great -plains. - -All at once Lange, the potter, the Anarchist, who stood in one of the -groups of people, was heard saying in his rough but jovial voice: 'No, -no, I haven't to pride myself on it, for I didn't light it. But, no -matter, it's fine work, and it's rather funny that the masters should -help us by roasting themselves.' - -He was referring to the conflagration. And such was the shudder that -passed through all his listeners that none attempted to silence him. -The feelings of the throng impelled it towards the victorious forces; -the authorities of Beauclair congratulated Luc on his devotion; the -tradespeople and petty _bourgeois_ surrounded the workers of La -Crêcherie, at last openly ranging themselves upon their side. Lange -was right; there are tragic hours when decaying societies, stricken -with madness, fling themselves upon the pyre. And now, of all those -grimy works of the Abyss, where the wage-system had gasped in the last -hours of dishonouring, accursed toil, there only remained against the -grey sky a few crumbling walls supporting the frameworks of roofs, -above which the high chimneys and the tempering tower alone rose up, -useless and woebegone. - -That morning, about eleven o'clock, when the sun at last made up its -mind to show itself, Monsieur Jérôme passed by in his bath-chair -propelled by a servant. He was making his usual promenade. He had just -followed the Combettes road, skirting the works and the growing town -of La Crêcherie, which looked so bright and gay in the dry, sunshiny -weather. And now he beheld the field of defeat, the Abyss sacked and -destroyed by the justice-dealing violence of the flames. For a long -time his clear and empty eyes, as transparent as spring water, gazed -upon the scene. He spoke no word, he made no gesture; he simply looked, -and then was wheeled away, nothing about him telling whether he had -really seen and understood. - - - - -BOOK III - - - -I - - -The blow was a terrible one at La Guerdache. Ruin suddenly fell upon -that residence of luxury and pleasure, which had continually resounded -with festivities. A hunt had to be countermanded, and it was necessary -to stop the grand Tuesday dinners. The numerous domestics would have -to be discharged _en masse_, and there was already some talk of the -sale of the carriages, horses, and kennels. All the noisy life of the -gardens and park, the endless affluence of visitors, had ceased. In -the huge house itself the drawing-rooms, dining-room, billiard-room, -and smoking-room became so many deserts, quivering with the blast of -disaster. It was a stricken dwelling agonising in the sudden solitude -born of misfortune. - -To and fro through that infinite sadness went Boisgelin like a woeful -shadow. Utterly overcome, with his mind almost unhinged, he spent the -most frightful days, at a loss what to do with himself, wandering about -like a soul in distress amidst the downfall of his life of enjoyment. -He was at bottom a sorry being, a horseman and clubman, an amiable -mediocrity whose fine presence and correct, proud mien--the mien of -the fool who wears a single eyeglass--collapsed entirely at the first -tragic gust of truth and justice. He had hitherto taken his pleasures -like one convinced that they were due to him; he had never done the -slightest work in his life; he imagined himself to be different from -others--a privileged being, one of the elect, born to be fed and amused -by the labour of others--and so how could he have understood the -catastrophe which had so logically fallen upon him? His egotistical -creed had received too severe a shock, and he remained in dismay -before the future, respecting which he had not previously felt any -disquietude. In the depths of his bewilderment there was particularly -the terror of the idler, the kept-man, one who was utterly upset by the -thought that he was incapable of earning his living. As Delaveau was -gone, from whom could he now demand the profits which had been promised -him on the day when he had invested his capital in the Abyss? The works -were burnt, the capital had vanished in the ruins, and where would -he now find the money to live? He roamed like a madman through the -deserted gardens and the lugubrious house without finding an answer to -that question. - -At first, on the evening following the tragedy, Boisgelin was haunted -by thoughts of the frightful death of Delaveau and Fernande. He could -have no doubt on the matter, for he remembered in what a mood the young -woman had left him--full of wrath and pouring forth threats against her -husband. It was certainly Delaveau who, after some terrible scene, had -set fire to the house in order to destroy both the guilty woman and -himself. In that vengeance, for a mere enjoyer of life like Boisgelin, -there was a sombre ferocity, a monstrous violence, which inspired him -with unending fright. But the greatest blow was to understand that -he was deficient in strength of intellect, and that he lacked the -necessary energy to set his affairs in order. From morning till evening -he ruminated over various plans without knowing which to adopt. Would -it be best to try to resuscitate the works, seek money and an engineer, -endeavour to establish a company to carry on the business? He feared -that he might not succeed in such attempts, for the losses were very -great, and must in the first instance be made good. Ought he not rather -to wait for a purchaser who would take the land, and such plant and -materials as had been saved, at his risk and peril? But Boisgelin -greatly doubted whether such a purchaser would ever turn up, and in -particular he doubted whether he would obtain from him a sufficiently -large sum to liquidate the situation. Moreover, the question of -his future life still remained to be settled; for the estate of La -Guerdache was an expensive one to keep up, and perhaps at the end of -the month he would no longer have enough money to buy even bread. - -In this emergency one sole creature took pity on the wretched, -trembling, forsaken man, who roamed about his empty house like a lost -child, and this was Suzanne, his wife, that woman full of heroic -gentleness whom he had so cruelly outraged. At the outset, when he had -imposed his _liaison_ with Fernande upon her, she had again and again -resolved upon asserting herself and driving the intruder, the strange -woman, from her house; but in the end she had invariably refrained from -taking that course, for she felt certain that if she were to drive -Fernande away, her infatuated husband would follow her. Then, their -relative positions being settled, Suzanne had taken a room for herself -and had become a wife in name only, keeping up appearances in the -presence of visitors, but devoting herself entirely to the education -of Paul, whom she wished to save from disaster. Had it not been for -that dear child, fair and gentle like herself, she would never have -become, resigned to the position. It was he who had brought about her -renunciation, her sacrifice. She had removed him as much as possible -from the influence of his unworthy father, anxious that his mind and -heart, in which by way of consolation she hoped to cultivate sense and -kindliness, should belong to herself alone. In this wise years went by, -amidst the delight of seeing him grow up reasonable and affectionate; -and it was only from a distance, so to say, that Suzanne had beheld -the slow ruin of the Abyss and the growing prosperity of La Crêcherie. -Like her husband, she had no doubt whatever that Delaveau, informed -of the truth, had personally fired that huge pyre in order to destroy -himself with that corrupting, devouring creature, his guilty wife. -Suzanne shuddered as she thought of it, and asked herself if she had -not in some small degree contributed to the catastrophe by her own -resignation, her weakness, in tolerating betrayal and shame in her own -home during so many years. If she had only rebelled at the outset, -perhaps the crime would never have reached that climax. And her qualms -of conscience quite upset her, and moved her to compassion for the -wretched man whom, since the days of the catastrophe, she had seen -roaming about like one demented, through the deserted garden and the -empty house. - -One morning, as she herself was crossing the grand drawing-room where -Boisgelin had given so many _fêtes_, she perceived him there huddled up -on an arm-chair, and sobbing and weeping like a child. She was quite -stirred, filled with pity at the sight. And she, who for many years had -never spoken to him unless it were necessary to do so in the presence -of guests, drew near and said, 'It is not in despairing that you will -find the strength you need.' - -Amazed at seeing her there, at hearing her speak to him, he looked at -her through the tears which blurred his eyes. - -'Yes,' she continued, 'it is of no use roaming about from morning -till night--you must find courage in yourself, you will not find it -elsewhere.' - -He made a gesture expressive of desolation, and answered in a faint -voice: 'I am so much alone.' - -He was not by nature an evilly disposed man; he was simply a fool and -a weakling, one of those cowards whom egotistical pleasure turns into -brutes. And it was with such utter dejection that he complained of the -solitude in which she left him amidst his misfortune, that she again -felt very touched. - -'You mean,' she said, 'that you wished to be alone. Since those -frightful occurrences why have you not come to me?' - -'Good God!' he stammered, 'can you forgive me?' - -Then he caught hold of her hands, which she left in his grasp, and, -overwhelmed and wildly repentant, confessed his fault. He acknowledged -nothing but what she knew already, his long betrayal, the mistress whom -he had brought into his home, that woman who had maddened him and urged -him on to ruin; but in accusing himself he displayed such passionate -frankness that Suzanne was touched as by some spontaneous confession -which he might have spared himself. - -'It is true,' he ended by saying, 'I have wronged you so long, I have -behaved abominably. Ah! why did you abandon me, why did you try nothing -to win me back?' - -His words awoke in her those qualms of conscience, the covert remorse -which she felt at the thought that she had perhaps not done all her -duty, that she had erred in not trying to stop him on his downward -course. And the reconciliation which pity had initiated was completed -by a feeling of indulgence. Are not the most pure, the most heroic -partially responsible at times, when the weak and the erring succumb -around them? - -'Yes,' she said, 'I ought to have battled more, but I was too intent -on sparing my pride and procuring quietude. We both have need of -forgetfulness, we must regard all the past as dead.' - -Then, as their son Paul happened to pass through the garden under the -windows, she called him indoors. He was now a big fellow of eighteen, -intelligent and refined, a son after her own image, very affectionate -and very sensible, free from all caste prejudices, and ready to live on -the fruit of his own exertions whenever circumstances might require it. -He had begun to take a passionate interest in the land, and spent whole -days at the farm, busy with questions of culture, the germination of -seed and harvesting of crops. As it happened, when his mother asked him -to come in for a moment, he was about to repair to Feuillat's to see a -new type of plough. - -'Come in, my boy, your father is in great grief, and I wish you to kiss -him,' said Suzanne. - -There had been a rupture between father and son as between husband -and wife. Won over entirely to his mother's side, Paul, in growing -up, had felt nothing but cold respect for his father, whose conduct, -he divined, must be the cause of his mother's frequent sorrow. Thus -he now came into the drawing-room, feeling both surprised and moved, -and for a few seconds remained gazing at his parents, whom he found so -pale, so upset by emotion. Then, understanding the position, he kissed -his father very affectionately, and flung his arms around his mother's -neck, anxious to embrace her also with all his heart. The family bond -was formed once more, and there came a happy moment, when one might -have believed that agreement would henceforth be complete between them. - -When Suzanne in her turn had kissed her son, Boisgelin had to restrain -a fresh flow of tears. 'Good, good! now we all agree. Ah! that gives me -some courage again. We are in such a terrible position! We shall have -to come to some arrangement, take some decision.' - -They went on talking for a little while, all three of them seated there -together; for Boisgelin felt a desire to unburden himself and confide -in that woman and that lad after roaming about alone so distressfully. -He reminded Suzanne how they had bought the Abyss for a million, and -La Guerdache for five hundred thousand francs, out of the two millions -which had remained to them, the one which had formed her dowry, and -the other which had been saved in the wreck of his own fortune. The -five hundred thousand francs left out of the two millions had been -handed to Delaveau, and had served as working capital for the Abyss. -All their money was thus invested in that enterprise, but unfortunately -during recent financial embarrassments it had been necessary to borrow -six hundred thousand francs, a debt which had weighed heavily upon -the business. It really seemed as if the works were quite dead since -they were burnt, and besides, before erecting them afresh it would be -necessary to pay the debt of six hundred thousand francs. - -'Then what do you intend to do?' Suzanne inquired. - -Boisgelin thereupon explained the two solutions between which he -hesitated, unable to adopt either, so great were the difficulties -which attended both. On the one hand they might rid themselves -of everything, sell what remained of the Abyss for what it would -fetch--that is, no doubt, barely enough to pay the outstanding debt of -six hundred thousand francs; or, on the other hand, they might try to -find fresh funds, and establish a company, to which he would belong by -contributing the land and the plant that had been saved. But here again -there seemed little hope of effecting such a combination. Meantime, -a solution was every day becoming more necessary, for their ruin was -growing more and more complete. - -'We also have La Guerdache--we can sell it,' remarked Suzanne. - -'Oh! sell La Guerdache!' he answered in a despairing way. 'Part with -this property to which we are so accustomed, so attached! And all to go -and hide ourselves in some wretched hovel! What a downfall it would be, -what a lot more grief it would bring!' - -Suzanne became grave again, for she well perceived that he was not -resigned to the idea of leading a reasonable modest life. 'We shall -inevitably have to come to it, my friend,' said she. 'We cannot -continue living upon such a footing.' - -'No doubt, no doubt, we shall sell La Guerdache, but later on, when an -opportunity presents itself. If we were to put it up for sale now we -should not obtain half its value, for in doing so we should confess -our ruin, and the whole district would league itself against us to -rejoice and speculate on our misfortunes.' Then he added more direct -arguments: 'Besides, my dear, La Guerdache belongs to you. As is stated -in the deeds, the five hundred thousand francs of the purchase money -were taken from your dowry, the remaining five hundred thousand francs -of which formed half of the million which the Abyss cost us. Whilst -we are co-proprietors of the works, La Guerdache is entirely your own -property, and I simply desire to keep it for you as long as possible.' - -Suzanne did not wish to insist on the subject, but she made a gesture -as if to say that she had long since resigned herself to every -sacrifice. Her husband was looking at her, and all at once he seemed to -remember something. - -'Oh, by the way,' he exclaimed, 'I've a question to ask you. Have you -ever seen your old friend, Monsieur Luc Froment, again?' - -She remained for a moment stupefied. Following upon the foundation -of La Crêcherie and the acute rivalry which had ensued between that -enterprise and the Abyss, had come a rupture with Luc, a rupture which -had not been the slightest of her sorrows amongst her many bitter -experiences. She felt that she had lost in Luc a cordial, consoling, -brotherly friend who would have helped and sustained her. But once -again she had resigned herself, and whenever she had chanced to meet -him at long intervals, on one of the few occasions when she went -out, she had never spoken to him. He imitated her discretion and -renunciation, and it seemed as if their old intimacy were quite dead. -Still this did not prevent Suzanne from taking quite a passionate -interest in Luc's enterprise, an interest of which she spoke to nobody. -In secret she remained upon his side in the generous efforts which -he was making to set a little more justice and love upon the earth. -Thus she had suffered with him and triumphed with him, and when at one -moment she had imagined him to be dead, killed by Ragu's knife-thrust, -she had for forty-eight hours shut herself up alone, far away from -everybody. - -In the depths of her grief she had then discovered an intolerable -anguish; that _liaison_ with Josine which Ragu's crime had revealed -to her left a torturing wound in her heart. Had she then been in love -with Luc without knowing it? Perhaps so, for had she not dreamt of -the joy, the pride that she would have felt at having such a husband -as he, one who would have turned fortune to such good and magnificent -use? Had she not thought, too, that she would have helped him, and that -between them they would have accomplished prodigies in the cause of -peace and kindness? But he grew well again, and was now the husband of -Josine; and Suzanne felt everything crumbling once more, leaving her -nought but the abnegation of a sacrificed wife, of a mother who only -continued living for her son's sake. From that moment Luc ceased to -exist for her, and the question which her husband had now put revived -what seemed to be such a distant past that she was unable to hide her -surprise. - -'How can I have seen Monsieur Froment again?' she at last answered. -'You know that for more than ten years all intercourse between us has -been broken off.' - -But Boisgelin quietly shrugged his shoulders. 'Oh! that doesn't prevent -it; you might have met him and have spoken to him. You agreed so well -together formerly. So you have kept up no relations with him at all?' - -'No,' she answered, somewhat sharply. 'If I had, you would know it.' - -Her astonishment was increasing; she felt hurt by her husband's -insistence; ashamed, too, at being questioned in that manner. What -could be his object? why did he wish that she had kept up relations -with Luc? In her turn she felt inquisitive, and inquired: 'Why do you -ask me that?' - -'Oh! for nothing--only an idea which occurred to me just now.' - -Finally, he reverted to the subject, and revealed what he had on his -mind. 'This is it. I was telling you a little while ago that we could -adopt one of two courses; either sell the Abyss, rid ourselves of -everything, or start a company to which I should belong. Well, there's -also a third course, a combination, as it were, of both the others, -and that would be to sell the Abyss to La Crêcherie, but in such a -way as to reserve to ourselves the larger part of the profits. Do you -understand?' - -'No, not exactly.' - -'But it is very simple. That fellow Luc must have a great desire to -acquire our land. Well, he has done us enough harm; is that not so? -And it is quite legitimate that we should get a large sum out of him. -And our salvation certainly lies in that direction, particularly if we -acquire an interest in the business which would enable us to keep La -Guerdache without need of retrenchment in our manner of life.' - -Suzanne listened with sorrow and dismay. What! he was still the same -man as formerly; that frightful lesson had not corrected him! He only -dreamt of speculating on others, of deriving profit from the situation -in which they found themselves. And in particular he still had one -sole object, that of doing nothing, of remaining an idler, a kept-man, -otherwise a capitalist. In the wild despair amidst which he had been -struggling since the catastrophe there had been but terror, hatred of -work, and one haunting thought: how could he so arrange matters that he -might continue to live, doing nothing? His tears were already dry, and -now, all at once, he reappeared such as he really was--a man intent on -enjoyment. - -However, Suzanne wished to know everything. - -'But what have I to do with this matter?' she inquired; 'why did you -ask me if I had kept up any relations with Monsieur Froment?' - -'Oh, _mon Dieu!_' he quietly replied; 'because that would have -facilitated the overtures which I think of making to him. As you can -understand, after years of rupture, it is not easy to approach a man to -discuss questions of interest, whereas things would be much easier if -he had remained your friend. In that case you yourself, perhaps, might -have seen him, spoken to him----' - -With a sudden wave of her hand Suzanne stopped her husband: 'I would -never have spoken to Monsieur Froment under such circumstances. You -forget that I had a sisterly affection for him.' - -Ah, the wretched being! So now he had sunk to so low a degree of -baseness that he was ready to speculate on such affection as Luc might -have retained for her, and it was she whom he thought of employing to -touch his adversary, in such wise that the latter might then be more -easily conquered. - -Boisgelin must have understood that he had hurt Suzanne's feelings, for -he could see that she had become much paler and colder, as if she had -again withdrawn from him. He wished to efface that bad impression. 'You -are right,' said he, 'business is not a thing for women to attend to. -As you say, also, you could not have undertaken such a commission. But -all the same I am well pleased with my idea, for the more I think it -over, the more convinced I feel that our salvation lies in it. I shall -prepare my plan of attack, and find a means of opening up intercourse -with the director of La Crêcherie--unless, indeed, I allow him to take -the first steps, which would be a more skilful course.' - -He was quite enlivened by the hope of duping another and deriving -sustenance and pleasure from him as he had hitherto done. There would -still be something good in life if one could live it with white and -idle hands, ignorant of work. He rose, gave a sigh of relief, and -looked on the great park. It seemed more extensive still on that -clear winter day, and he hoped to give fêtes in it again as soon as -the spring should come. Finally he exclaimed: 'It would really be too -stupid for us to distress ourselves. Can folk like ourselves ever -become paupers?' - -Suzanne, who had remained seated, felt her painful sadness increase. -For a moment she had entertained the naïve hope of reforming that man, -and now she perceived that every tempest and revolution might pass over -him without bringing amendment, or even understanding of the new times. -The ancient system of the exploitation of man by man was in his blood, -he could only live on others. He would always remain a big bad child -who would fall to her charge later on should justice ever do its work. -And thus she could only regard him with great and bitter pity. - -Throughout that long conversation Paul had remained motionless, -listening to his parents with his usual gentle, intelligent, and loving -expression. All the feelings which in turn agitated his mother were -reflected in his large pensive eyes. He was in constant communion with -her, and suffered like herself at seeing how unworthy his father was. -She at last perceived his painful embarrassment, and asked him: 'Where -were you going just now, my child?' - -'I was going to the farm, mother; Feuillat must have received the new -plough for the winter ploughing.' - -Boisgelin laughed: 'And that interests you?' he asked. - -'Why yes, father. At Les Combettes they have steam ploughs which turn -up furrows several thousand yards long now that all the fields have -been joined together; and it is superb to see the land turned up like -that and fertilised.' - -He was overflowing with youthful enthusiasm. His mother, who felt -touched by it, smiled at him. 'Go, go, my boy,' she said, 'go and see -the new plough, and work--your health will be all the better for it.' - -During the ensuing days Suzanne noticed that her husband evinced no -haste in putting his project into execution. It seemed as if he deemed -it sufficient to have discovered a solution which in his opinion would -save them all. That done he relapsed into indolence, incapable of any -effort. However, there was another big child at La Guerdache, whose -manner suddenly caused Suzanne considerable disquietude. Monsieur -Jérôme, her grandfather, who had just reached the advanced age of -eighty-eight, in spite of the species of living death to which -paralysis had reduced him, still led a silent and retired existence, -having no intercourse with the outer world apart from his frequent -promenades in the bath-chair which a servant propelled. Suzanne alone -entered his room and ministered to his wants, evincing the same loving -attention as she had already shown when a mere girl, thirty years -previously, in that same large ground-floor room looking towards the -park. She was so accustomed to the old man's clear, fathomless eyes, -which seemed, as it were, full of spring water, that she was able -to detect the slightest shadow that passed over them. Now, since -the recent tragical events, those eyes had darkened somewhat after -the fashion of water when rising sand renders it turbid. For many -monotonous years Suzanne had seen nothing in them, and finding them so -limpid and so empty had imagined that power of thought had for ever -departed from her grandfather. But was it now returning? Did not those -shadows in Monsieur Jérôme's eyes, and his feverishness of manner, -indicate a possible awakening? Perhaps, indeed, he had always retained -his consciousness and intelligence; perhaps, too, by some kind of -miracle, now when he was drawing nigh to death, the hard physical bond -of paralysis was relaxing in some slight measure, releasing him from -the silence and immobility in which he had so long lived imprisoned. -It was with growing astonishment and anguish that Suzanne watched that -slow work of deliverance. - -One night the servant who propelled Monsieur Jérôme's bath-chair -ventured to stop her just as she was coming from the old man's room, -quite stirred by the living glance with which he had watched her -depart. 'Madame,' said the servant, 'I made up my mind to tell you. It -seems to me that there is a change in Monsieur. To-day he spoke.' - -'What! he spoke?' she answered, thunderstruck. - -'Yes, even yesterday I fancied that I could hear him stammering words -in an undertone when we halted for a little while on the Brias road in -front of the Abyss. But to-day, when we passed before La Crêcherie, he -certainly spoke, I'm sure of it.' - -'And what did he say?' - -'Ah, madame, I did not understand, his words were disconnected, one -couldn't make sense of them.' - -From that moment Suzanne, full of anxious solicitude, had a close watch -kept upon her grandfather. The servant received orders to report to -her every evening what had happened during the day. In this wise she -was able to follow the growing fever which seemed to have come upon -Monsieur Jérôme. He was possessed by a desire to see and hear, he made -it plain by signs that he wished to have his outings prolonged, as if -he were eager for the sights which he found upon the roads. But he -particularly insisted on being taken each day to the same spots, either -the Abyss or La Crêcherie, and he never wearied of contemplating the -former's sombre ruins and the latter's gay prosperity. He compelled his -servant to slacken his pace, made him go past the same spot several -times, and all the while he more and more distinctly stammered those -disjointed words, whose sense was not yet apparent. Suzanne, quite -upset by this awakening, at last sent for Doctor Novarre, whoso opinion -she was anxious to ascertain. - -'Doctor,' said she, after explaining the case to him, 'you cannot -conceive how it frightens me. It is as if I were witnessing a -resurrection. My heart contracts, it all appears to me like some -prodigious sign announcing extraordinary events.' - -Novarre smiled at her nervousness, and wished to see things himself. -But it was not easy to deal with Monsieur Jérôme; he had closed his -door to doctors as well as to others; and besides, as his ailment -admitted of no treatment, Novarre had for years abstained from making -any attempt to enter his room. In the present instance the doctor had -to wait for the old man in the park, where he bowed to him as he passed -in his bath-chair. Next he followed him along the road, and on drawing -near saw that his eyes began to gleam whilst his lips parted, and a -vague stammering came from them. In his turn Novarre felt astonished -and stirred. - -'You were quite right, Madame,' he came to tell Suzanne, 'the case -is a very singular one. We are evidently in presence of some crisis -affecting the whole organism, and arising from some great internal -shock.' - -'But what do you expect will happen, doctor?' Suzanne anxiously -inquired, 'and what can we do?' - -'Oh, we can do nothing, that is unfortunately certain, and as for -foreseeing what such a condition may lead to, I won't attempt it. Yet I -ought to tell you that if such cases are very rare they do occasionally -occur. Thus I remember examining at the asylum of Saint-Cron an old -man who had been shut up there for nearly forty years, and whom the -keepers, to the best of their remembrance, had never once heard speak. -Quite suddenly, however, he appeared to awake, at first speaking in -a confused manner, and then very plainly, whereupon an interminable -flow of speech set in--whole hours of ceaseless chatter. But the -extraordinary part of it was that this old man, who was regarded as -an idiot, had seen, heard, and understood everything during his forty -years of apparent slumber. And when he recovered the power of speech -it was an endless narrative of his sensations and recollections stored -within him since his entry into the asylum that poured from his lips.' - -Although Suzanne strove to hide the frightful emotion into which this -example threw her, she could not help shuddering. 'And what became of -that unhappy man?' she asked. - -Novarre hesitated for a second, then replied: 'He died three days -afterwards. I must own it, madame, a crisis of that sort is almost -always a symptom of approaching dissolution. One finds in it the -eternal symbol of the lamp which throws up a last flame before going -out.' - -Deep silence reigned. Suzanne had become very pale. The icy breath of -death swept by. But it was not so much the thought that her unhappy -grandfather would soon die that pained her--she had another poignant -fear. Had he seen, heard, and understood everything throughout his long -paralysis, even after the fashion of the old man of Saint-Cron? - -At last she summoned sufficient bravery to ask another question: 'Do -you think, doctor,' she inquired, 'that intelligence has quite departed -from our dear patient? In your opinion does he understand, does he -think?' - -Novarre made a vague gesture, the gesture of the scientist who does not -consider it right to venture on any pronouncement respecting matters -outside the pale of scientific certainty. - -'Oh! you ask me too much, madame,' said he. 'Everything is possible in -that mystery, the human brain, into which we still penetrate with so -much difficulty. Intelligence can certainly remain intact after the -loss of speech; because one cannot speak it does not follow that one -is unable to think. However, I may say that I should formerly have -believed in a permanent weakening of all Monsieur Jérôme's mental -faculties, I should have thought him sunk in senile infancy for ever.' - -'Still, it is possible that he may have retained his faculties intact.' - -'Quite possible; I even begin to suspect that such is the case, as is -indicated by that awakening of his whole being, and that return of -speech which seems to be coming back to him gradually.' - -This conversation left Suzanne in a state of dolorous horror. She -could no longer linger in her grandfather's room and witness his slow -resurrection without a secret feeling of alarm. If amidst the mute -rigidity in which he had been chained by paralysis he had indeed seen, -heard, and understood everything, what a terrible drama must have -filled his long silence! For more than thirty years he had remained -an impassive witness, as it were, of the decline of his race, those -clear eyes of his had beheld the rout of his descendants, a downfall -accelerated from father to son by the vertigo born of wealth. In the -devouring blaze of enjoyment two generations had sufficed to consume -the fortune which his father and he had built up, and which he had -deemed so firm. He had seen his son Michel ruin himself for worthless -women directly he became a widower, and blow his brains out with a -pistol-shot; whilst his daughter Laure, losing her head in mysticism, -entered a convent; and his second son, Philippe, married to a hussy, -perished in a duel after an imbecile career. He had also seen his -grandson Gustave impel his father Michel to suicide by robbing him of -his mistress and of the hundred thousand francs that he had collected -for his business payments; whilst at the same time his other grandson -André, Philippe's child, was relegated to a lunatic asylum. He had -further seen Boisgelin, the husband of his granddaughter Suzanne, -purchase the imperilled Abyss, and confide its management to a poor -cousin, Delaveau, who, after restoring it to prosperity for a brief -period, had reduced it to ashes on the night when he had discovered the -betrayal of his wife Fernande and that coxcomb Boisgelin--the pair of -them maddened by such a craving for luxury and pleasure that they had -destroyed all around them. And he had seen the Abyss, his well-loved -work, so small and modest when he had inherited it from his father, so -greatly enlarged by himself, he had seen that Abyss, which he had hoped -his race would make a city, the empire as it were of iron and steel, -decline so rapidly that with the second generation of his descendants -not a stone of it remained standing. Finally, he had seen his race, in -which creative power had accumulated so slowly through a long line of -wretched toilers, till it had burst forth at last in his father and -himself; he had seen his race spoilt, debased, and destroyed by the -abuse of wealth, as if nothing of the Qurignons' heroic passion for -work glowed among his grandchildren. And thus how frightful must be -the story amassed in the brain of that octogenarian, what a procession -of terrible occurrences, synthetising a whole century of effort, and -casting light on the past, the present, and the future of a family! -And what a terrifying thing, too, it was that the brain in which that -story had seemed to slumber should at last slowly awaken to life, and -that everything should threaten to come forth from it, in a great flood -of truth, if indeed the tongue that already stammered should end by -speaking plainly! - -It was for that terrible awakening that Suzanne now waited with -growing anxiety. She and her son were the last of the race; Paul was -the sole heir of the Qurignons. Aunt Laure had lately died in the -Carmelite convent where she had lived for nearly forty years; and -Cousin André, cut off from the world since infancy, had been dead for -many years already. Thus nowadays, whenever Paul went with his mother -into Monsieur Jérôme's room, the old man's eyes, once more gleaming -with intelligence, rested on him for a long while. That lad was the -sole frail wattle of the oak from whose powerful trunk he had once -hoped to see a number of vigorous branches, a whole swarming family, -fork and grow. Was not that family tree full of new sap, health, and -vigour, derived from sturdy, toiling forerunners? Would not his line -blossom forth and spread around to conquer all the wealth and all the -joy of the world? But, behold the sap was already exhausted with the -coming of his grandchildren; in less than half a century a misspent -life of wealth had consumed the whole strength amassed through a long -ancestry! How bitter it was when that unhappy grandfather, the supreme -witness surviving amidst so much ruin, found himself confronted by one -sole heir, that gentle, delicate, refined Paul, who was like the last -gift vouchsafed by life, which perhaps had left him to the Qurignons -in order that they might grow afresh and flower in new soil! But what -dolorous irony there was in the fact that only that quiet, thoughtful -lad remained in that huge, royal residence of La Guerdache which -Monsieur Jérôme had originally purchased at such great cost, in the -hope of seeing it some day peopled by his numerous descendants. He had -pictured its spacious rooms occupied by ten households; he had imagined -that he could hear the laughter of an ever-increasing troop of boys -and girls; in his imagination the place became the happy, luxurious -family estate where the ever-fruitful dynasty of the Qurignons would -reign. But, on the contrary, the rooms had grown emptier day by day; -drunkenness, madness, and death had swept by, accomplishing their -destructive work; and then a final corrupting creature had come -to complete the ruin of the house; and since the last catastrophe -two-thirds of the rooms were kept closed, the whole of the second floor -was abandoned to the dust, and even the ground-floor reception-rooms -were only opened on Saturdays in order to admit a little sunshine. The -race would end if Paul did not raise it up afresh; the empire in which -it should have prospered was already naught but a large empty dwelling -which would crumble away in abandonment unless new life were imparted -to it. - -Another week went by. The servant who attended Monsieur Jérôme could -now distinguish certain words amidst his stammering. At last a distinct -phrase was detected, and the man came to repeat it to Suzanne. - -'Oh! he did not manage it without difficulty, madame, but I assure you -that this morning Monsieur repeated: "One must give back, one must give -back."' - -Suzanne was incredulous. The words seemed to have no meaning. What was -to be given back? - -'You must listen more attentively,' she said to the servant; 'try to -distinguish the words better.' - -On the morrow, however, the man was still more positive. 'I assure -madame,' said he, 'that Monsieur really says: "One must give back, one -must give back." He says it twenty and thirty times in succession in a -low but persistent voice, as if putting all his strength into it.' - -That same evening Suzanne determined to watch her grandfather herself, -in order that she might understand things better. On the following day -the old man was unable to get up. Whilst his brain seemed to be freeing -itself from its bonds, his legs and soon his trunk were attacked by -paralysis, and became quite lifeless. Suzanne was greatly alarmed by -this, and again sent for Novarre, who was unable to do anything, and -warned her that the end was approaching. From that moment she did not -quit the room. - -It was a very large room, with very thick carpets and heavy hangings. -A deep ruddy hue and a substantial and rather sombre luxury prevailed -there. The furniture was of carved rosewood, the bed was a large -four-poster, and there was a tall mirror in which the park was -reflected. When the windows were open the view, beyond the lawns, -between the old trees, stretched over an immense panorama in which one -saw first the jumbled roofs of Beauclair, and then the Bleuse Mountains -with La Crêcherie and its smeltery, and the Abyss, whose gigantic -chimneys still rose erect. - -One morning Suzanne sat down near the bed, after drawing back the -window curtains, in order to admit the winter sunshine; and all at once -she felt greatly moved on hearing Monsieur Jérôme speak. For a few -moments his face had been turned towards one of the windows through -which he had been looking at the distant horizon. And at first he only -uttered two words: - -'Monsieur Luc.' - -Suzanne, who had distinctly heard them, was quite overcome with -surprise. Why Monsieur Luc? Her grandfather had never had any -intercourse with Luc, he ought to have been ignorant of his existence, -unless indeed he was aware of what had lately occurred, had seen -everything, and understood everything, even as hitherto she had only -suspected and feared. Indeed, those words 'Monsieur Luc,' falling from -his lips which had been sealed so long, were like a first proof that he -had retained a lively intelligence amidst his silence, and could see -and understand. Suzanne felt her anguish increasing. - -'Is it really Monsieur Luc that you say, grandfather?' she asked. - -'Yes, yes, Monsieur Luc.' - -He pronounced the name with increasing distinctness and energy, keeping -his ardent glance fixed upon her. - -'But why do you speak to me of Monsieur Luc?' she said. 'Do you know -him then? Have you something to say to me about him?' - -Monsieur Jérôme hesitated, doubtless because he could not find the -words he wished; then with childish impatience he repeated: - -'Monsieur Luc!' - -'He used to be my best friend,' resumed Suzanne, 'but for long years -now he has ceased coming here.' - -Monsieur Jérôme quickly nodded his head, and then, as if his tongue -were gradually acquiring the power of speech, he said: 'I know, I -know--I wish him to come.' - -'You wish Monsieur Luc to come to see you--you wish to speak to him, -grandfather?' - -'Yes, yes, it is that. Let him come at once--I will speak to him.' - -The surprise and the vague fright that possessed Suzanne were now -increasing. What could Monsieur Jérôme wish to say to Luc? There were -such painful possibilities, that for a moment she tried to avoid -granting the old man's request, as if indeed she imagined him to be -delirious. But he was in full possession of his senses, and entreated -her with increasing fervour, all the strength indeed remaining in his -poor infirm frame. And at this Suzanne felt profoundly disturbed, -asking herself if it would not be wrong of her to refuse the dying -man's request for that interview, although she shuddered at the thought -of the dimly threatening things which might result from it. - -'Cannot you say what you wish to me, grandfather?' she ultimately asked. - -'No, no--to Monsieur Luc. I will speak to him at once--oh, at once!' - -'Very well, then, grandfather, I will write to him, and I hope that he -will come.' - -When Suzanne sat down to write, however, her hand trembled. She -penned only two lines: 'My friend, I have need of you, come at once.' -Nevertheless she was twice compelled to pause, for she lacked strength -to trace even those few words, so painful were the memories that they -aroused within her--memories of her lost life and of the happiness -beside which she had passed, and which she would never know. At last, -however, the note was written, and it was scarcely ten in the morning -when one of the servants, a lad, set out to take it to La Crêcherie. - -Luc, as it happened, was standing outside the common-house, finishing -his morning inspection, when the note was handed to him; and without -delay he followed the young messenger. But how great was the emotion -which he felt on reading those simple yet touching words: 'My friend, -I have need of you, come at once.' Events had parted him from Suzanne -for twelve long years, yet she wrote to him as if they had met only the -previous day--like one, too, who was certain that he would respond to -her appeal. She had not doubted his friendship for a moment, and he was -touched to tears at finding her ever the same, still full of sisterly -affection as in former times. The most frightful tragedies had burst -forth around them, every passion had run riot, sweeping away men and -things, yet after those years of separation they found themselves hand -in hand once more. Whilst walking on quickly, and drawing near to La -Guerdache, Luc began to wonder, however, why she had sent for him. He -was not ignorant of Boisgelin's desire to speculate on the situation -and sell the Abyss for as much money as possible; but he had resolved -that he would never buy it. The only acceptable solution of the matter -in his opinion was the entry of the Abyss into the association of La -Crêcherie, after the fashion of the other smaller factories. For a -moment it occurred to him that Boisgelin might have asked his wife to -make overtures to him, but he knew her, and felt that she was incapable -of playing such a part. It seemed to him that she must be exhausted -by some great anxiety, that she must need his help in some tragic -circumstance. And so he puzzled his mind no more--she herself would -soon tell him what service she required of his affection. - -Suzanne was waiting for him in one of the little drawing-rooms, and -when Luc entered it she thought she was about to faint, so great became -her perturbation. He himself felt upset, and at first neither of them -could utter a word. They looked at one another in silence. - -'Oh, my friend, my friend!' Suzanne murmured when she was at last able -to speak. - -Those simple words were fraught with all the emotion she felt at the -thought of those last twelve years--their separation, broken only by a -few silent chance meetings, the cruel life which she herself had led in -her defiled home, and the work which he meantime had accomplished, and -which she had watched from afar, enthusiastically. He had become a hero -for her, she had worshipped him, and had longed to throw herself at his -knees, nurse his wounds, and become his consoling helpmate. But another -had stepped between them--Josine, who had caused her so much suffering -that now all passionate love seemed dead. Nevertheless, at the sight -of Luc standing once more before her all those hidden things rose from -the depths of her being, and the intensity of her emotion moistened -her eyes and made her hands quiver. - -'Oh, my friend, my friend!' she repeated, 'so it was sufficient that I -should send for you!' - -Luc quivered with a similar sympathy, and he also recalled the past. He -knew how unhappily she had lived beneath the horrible insult offered to -her, the presence of her husband's mistress in her home. He knew, too, -what dignity and heroism she had shown in remaining in that home with -head erect, for her son's sake and her own. Thus in spite of separation -she had never been absent from his mind and heart--he had pitied her -more and more at each fresh trial that fell upon her. He had often -wondered how he might help her. It would have greatly delighted him to -be able to prove that he had forgotten nothing, that he was still the -same good friend as formerly. And this was why he had now hastened to -respond to her first summons, full of an anxious affection which made -his heart swell and prevented him from speaking. - -At last, however, he was able to reply: 'Yes, your friend, one who has -never ceased to be so, and who only awaited your summons to hasten -here.' - -They were at that moment so keenly conscious of the bond that for ever -united them like brother and sister, that they embraced and kissed each -other on the cheeks, even as friends who fear nought of human folly or -suffering, but are certain that they will only impart peacefulness and -courage to one another. All the strength and tenderness with which the -friendship of man and woman may be instinct bloomed in their smiles. - -'If you only knew, my friend,' said Luc, 'how great my fears were when -I realised that my competition would end by destroying the Abyss! Was -it not you whom I was ruining? And what faith in my work I needed -to prevent those thoughts from staying my hand! Great sorrow often -came upon me--I believed that you must curse me, that you would never -forgive me for being the cause of the worries in which you must be -struggling.' - -'Curse you, my friend! But I was with you, I prayed for you--your -victories were my only joy. And living in a sphere that hated you, -it was very sweet for me to have a secret affection, to be able to -understand and love you, unknown to everybody.' - -'None the less I have ruined you, my friend,' Luc retorted. 'What will -become of you now, accustomed as you have been since childhood to a -life of luxury?' - -'Oh, ruined! That would have come about without you! It was the others -who ruined me. And you will see how brave I can be, no matter how -delicate you may think me.' - -'But Paul, your son?' - -'Paul! Why, nothing happier could have befallen him. He will work. You -know what wealth has done to my people.' - -Then Suzanne at last told Luc why she had sent him such a pressing -summons. Monsieur Jérôme, the wondrous awakening of whose intelligence -she revealed, wished to speak to him. It was the desire of a dying man, -for Doctor Novarre believed in his imminent dissolution. Astonished -by these tidings even as she had been, seized too, like herself, with -vague alarm at the thought of this resurrection in which he was so -strangely desired to intervene, Luc none the less answered that he was -entirely at her disposal, and ready to do whatever she might request. - -'Have you warned your husband of Monsieur Jérôme's desire and my -visit?' he inquired. - -Suzanne looked at him and shrugged her shoulders. 'No, I did not think -of it--besides, it is useless,' said she; 'for a long time past it has -seemed as if my grandfather no longer knew that my husband existed. He -does not speak to him, he does not even seem to see him. Moreover, my -husband went out shooting early this morning, and he has not yet come -home.' Then she added, 'If you will follow me, I will take you to my -grandfather at once.' - -When they entered Monsieur Jérôme's room, the old man, who was sitting -up in the large rosewood bed supported by several pillows, still had -his eyes turned towards the window whose curtains had been drawn back. -In all probability he had never ceased gazing over the park and the -spreading horizon, with the Abyss and La Crêcherie showing yonder, -beside the Bleuse Mountains, above the jumbled roofs of Beauclair. -It was a scene which seemed to attract him irresistibly, like some -symbolism of the past, the present, and the future, which he had had -before him during all his long silent years. - -'Grandfather,' said Suzanne, 'I have had Monsieur Luc Froment fetched -for you. Here he is, he was kind enough to come at once.' - -The old man slowly turned his head, and looked at Luc with his large -eyes, which had grown it seemed yet larger than formerly, and which -were now full of deep light. He said nothing, no word of greeting -or thanks came from his lips, and the heavy silence lasted several -minutes, whilst he kept his gaze fixed upon that stranger, the founder -of La Crêcherie, as if he were anxious to know him thoroughly, to dive -indeed into his very soul. - -At last Suzanne, who felt slightly embarrassed, resumed, 'You do not -know Monsieur Froment, grandfather; but perhaps you may have noticed -him when you were out.' - -Monsieur Jérôme did not appear to hear his granddaughter, for he still -returned no answer. After a moment, however, he once more turned his -head and looked round the room. And failing to find what he sought he -ended by speaking one word--a name--'Boisgelin.' - -This caused Suzanne fresh astonishment as well as anxiety and -embarrassment. 'You are asking for my husband, grandfather--do you wish -him to come here?' she inquired. - -'Yes, yes, Boisgelin.' - -'But I am afraid that he has not come home yet. Meantime you ought to -tell Monsieur Froment why you wished to see him.' - -'No, no, Boisgelin, Boisgelin.' - -It was evident that he wished to speak in Boisgelin's presence. Suzanne -therefore apologised to Luc and left the room to seek her husband. -Meanwhile Luc remained face to face with Monsieur Jérôme, conscious -that the latter's bright glance was still and ever fixed upon him. -In his turn he then began to scrutinise the old man, and found him -looking wondrously handsome in his extreme old age, with his white -face and regular features, to which the approach of death seemed to -impart an expression of sovereign majesty. The wait was a long one, -and not a word was exchanged by those two men, whose eyes dived into -one another's. All around them the room with its heavy hangings and -massive furniture seemed to be slumbering. Not a sound arose--there -was naught but the quiver which came through the walls from the large -empty closed rooms, the stories and stories which had been abandoned -to dust. And nothing could have been more tragical or solemn than that -spell of silent waiting. At last Suzanne returned, bringing with her -Boisgelin, who had just come home. He still wore his shooting-jacket, -gloves, and gaiters, for she had not allowed him time to change his -clothes. And he came in with an anxious, bewildered air, astonished at -such an adventure. All that his wife had just rapidly told him of the -summoning of Luc, his presence in Monsieur Jérôme's room, the old man's -recovery of his intelligence, and the statement that he was awaiting -him--Boisgelin--before speaking, all those unforeseen occurrences quite -upset Suzanne's husband, who had not been allowed even a few minutes of -reflection. - -'Well, grandfather,' said Suzanne, 'here is my husband. Speak if you -have something to tell us. We are listening.' - -But again the old man looked round the room, and once more he asked, -'Paul, where is Paul?' - -'Do you want Paul to be here too?' - -'Yes, yes, I want him.' - -'But the fact is that he must be at the farm. Fully a quarter of an -hour will be necessary to fetch him.' - -'He must come--I want him, I want him!' - -Suzanne yielded, and hastily despatched a servant for her son. And then -the waiting began afresh, and proved even more solemn and tragic than -before. Luc and Boisgelin had simply bowed to one another, finding -nothing to say on meeting after so many years in that room which an -august breath already seemed to fill. Nobody spoke, and amidst the -quiver of the air one only heard the somewhat heavy respiration of -Monsieur Jérôme. Once again his large eyes, full of light, were turned -towards the window, towards that horizon symbolical of the labour of -manhood, where the past had undergone accomplishment, and where the -future would be born. And the minutes went by, slowly, regularly, in -that anxious wait for what was to come, the act of sovereign grandeur -whose approach could be divined. - -Some light footsteps were heard at last, and Paul came in, his face -glowing healthily from contact with the open air. - -'My boy,' said Suzanne, 'it is your grandfather who has brought us all -together here. He wishes you to be present while he speaks.' - -On the hitherto rigid lips of Monsieur Jérôme a smile of infinite -tenderness had at last appeared. He signed to Paul to approach, and -made him sit down as near as possible, on the edge of the bed. It was -particularly for him, the last heir of the Qurignons, through whom -the race might flower anew and yet yield excellent fruit, that he -desired to speak. And on seeing how moved the youth looked, full of -grief at the thought of a last farewell, he continued for a moment -trying to reassure him with his affectionate glances, like one to whom -death was sweet since he was about to bequeath as inheritance to his -great-grandson an act of goodness, justice, and pacification. - -At last he began to speak, amidst the religious silence of one and -all. He had turned his face towards Boisgelin, and at first he merely -repeated the words which his servant had for two days past heard him -stammering in an undertone, amidst other confused utterances: - -'One must give back, one must give back!' - -Then, seeing that the others did not appear to understand what he -meant, he turned to Paul and repeated with growing energy: - -'One must give back, my child, give back!' - -Suzanne shuddered, and exchanged a glance with Luc, who also was -quivering; whilst Boisgelin, seized with uneasiness and alarm, -pretended to detect in all this some rambling on the old man's part. -But Suzanne inquired: 'What do you desire to tell us, grandfather--what -is it that we must give back?' - -Monsieur Jérôme's speech was fast becoming easier and more distinct. -'Everything, my child--the Abyss yonder must be given back; La -Guerdache must be given back. One must give back the land of the farm. -Everything must be given, because nothing ought to belong to us, -because everything ought to belong to all.' - -'But explain to us, grandfather--to whom are we to give these things?' - -'I tell you, my girl, they must be given back to all. Nothing of what -we thought to be our property belongs to us. If that property has -poisoned and destroyed us, it is because it belonged to others. For our -happiness, and the happiness of all, it must be given back, given back!' - -Then came a scene of sovereign beauty, incomparable grandeur. The -old man did not always find the words he desired, but his gestures -indicated his meaning. Amidst the silence of those who surrounded -him, he went on slowly, and in spite of all difficulties succeeded in -making himself understood. He had seen everything, heard everything, -understood everything, and even as Suzanne had divined with quivering -anguish, it was all the past which now came back, all the truth of the -terrible past, pouring forth in a flood from that hitherto silent, -impassive witness, so long imprisoned within his own body. It seemed as -if he had only survived the many disasters, a whole family of happy, -then stricken, beings, in order to draw from everything the great -lesson. On the day of awakening, before going to his death, he spread -out all the torture he had suffered as one who, after believing in the -triumphant reign of his race over an empire established by himself, had -lived long enough to see both race and empire swept away by the blast -of the future. And he told why all this had happened, he judged it, and -offered reparation. - -At the outset came the first Qurignon, the drawer who with a few mates -had founded the Abyss, he being as poor as they were, but probably more -skilful and economical. Then came himself, the second Qurignon, the -one who had gained a fortune, and piled up millions in the course of -a stubborn struggle, in which he had displayed heroic determination, -ceaseless and ever-intelligent energy. But if he had accomplished -prodigies of activity and creative genius, if he had gained money, -thanks to his skill in adapting the conditions of production to those -of sale, he knew very well that he was simply the outcome of long -generations of toilers from whom he had derived all his strength and -triumph. How many peasants perspiring as they tilled the glebe, how -many workmen exhausted by the handling of tools had been required for -the advent of those two first Qurignons who had conquered fortune! -Among those forerunners there had been a keen passion to fight for -life, to make money, to rise from one class to another, to pursue all -the slow enfranchisement of the poor wretch who bends in servitude -over his appointed task. And at last one Qurignon had been strong -enough to conquer, to escape from the gaol of poverty, to acquire the -long-desired wealth, and become in his turn a rich man, a master! But -immediately afterwards, that is in two generations, his descendants -collapsed, fell once more into the dolorous struggle for existence, -exhausted already as they were by enjoyment, consumed by it as by a -flame. - -'One must give back, one must give back, one must give back!' repeated -Monsieur Jérôme. - -There was his son Michel, who after years of excesses had killed -himself on the eve of a pay-day; there was his other son Philippe, -who, having married a hussy, had been ruined by her, and had lost his -life in a foolish duel. There was his daughter Laure, who had died -in a convent, her mind weakened by mystical visions. There were his -two grandsons, André, a rachitic semi-maniac, who had passed away in -an asylum, and Gustave, who had met a tragic death in Italy after -impelling his father to suicide by robbing him of his mistress and -the money he needed for his business payments. Finally, there was -his granddaughter Suzanne, the tender-hearted, sensible, well-loved -creature, whose husband after repurchasing the Abyss and La Guerdache -had completed the work of destruction. The Abyss was now in ashes, -and La Guerdache, where he had hoped to see his race swarming, had -become a desert. And whilst his race had been collapsing, carrying off -both his father's work and his own, he had seen another work arise, -La Crêcherie, which was now full of prosperity, throbbing with the -future that it brought with it. He knew all those things because his -clear eyes had witnessed them in the course of his daily outings, those -hours of silent contemplation, when he had found himself outside the -Abyss at the moment when one or another shift was leaving, or outside -La Crêcherie where the men who had deserted his own foundation took -off their caps to him. And again he had passed before the Abyss on -the morning when of that well-loved creation he had found nought but -smoking ruins left. - -'One must give back, one must give back, one must give back!' - -That cry, which he constantly repeated amidst his slowly flowing words, -which he emphasised each time with more and more energy, ascended from -his heart like the natural consequence of all the disastrous events -which had caused him so much suffering. If everything around him had -crumbled away so soon, was it not because the fortune which he had -acquired by the labour of others was both poisoned and poisonous? The -enjoyment that such fortune brings is the most certain of destructive -ferments--it bastardises a race, disorganises a family, leads to -abominable tragedies. In less than half a century it had consumed the -strength, the intelligence, the genius which the Qurignons had amassed -during several centuries of rough toil. The mistake of those robust -workers had been their belief that to secure personal happiness they -ought to appropriate and enjoy the wealth created by the exertions of -their companions. And the wealth they had dreamt of, the wealth they -had acquired, had proved their chastisement. Nothing can be worse from -the moral point of view than to cite as an example the workman who -grows rich, who becomes an employer, the sovereign master of thousands -of his fellow-men who bend perspiring over their toil, producing -the wealth by which he triumphs! When a writer says: 'You see very -well that with order and intelligence a mere blacksmith may attain -to everything,' he simply contributes to the work of iniquity, and -aggravates social disequilibrium. The happiness of the elect is really -compounded of the unhappiness of others, for it is their happiness -which he cuts down and purloins. The comrade who makes his way, as the -saying goes, bars the road to thousands of other comrades, lives upon -their misery and their suffering. And it often happens that the happy -one is punished by success, by fortune itself, which coming too quickly -and disproportionately, proves murderous. This is why the only right -course is to revert to salutary work, work on the part of all--all -earning their livings and owing their happiness solely to the exertion -of their minds and their muscles. - -'One must give back, one must give back, one must give back!' repeated -Monsieur Jérôme. - -One must give back, indeed; one must restitute because one is liable -to die of that which one steals from another. One must give back, -because the sole cure, the only certainty of happiness lies in doing -so. One must give back in a spirit of justice, and even more in one's -own personal interest, since the happiness of each can only reside in -the happiness of all. One must give back in order that one may enjoy -better health and live a happy life in the midst of universal peace. -One must give back because if all the unjust victors of life, all the -egotistical holders of the public fortune, were to restore the wealth -that they squander for their personal pleasures--the great estates, -the great industrial enterprises, the roads, the towns--peace would be -restored to-morrow, love would flower once more among men, and there -would be such an abundance of possessions that not one single being -would be left in penury. One must give back because one must set the -example if one desires that other wealthy folk may understand, may -realise whence have come all the evils from which they suffer, and may -be inspired to endow their descendants with renewed vigour by plunging -them once more into active life, daily work. One must give back, too, -whilst there is yet time to do so, whilst there is still some nobility -in returning to one's comrades, in showing them that one was mistaken, -and that one returns to one's place in the ranks to participate in -the common effort, with the hope that the hour of justice and peace -will soon strike. And one must give back in order to die with a clear -conscience, a heart joyful at having accomplished one's duty, at -leaving a repairing and liberating lesson to the last of one's race, -so that he may restore it, save it from error, and perpetuate it in -strength, delight, and beauty. - -'One must give back, one must give back!' - -Tears had appeared in Suzanne's eyes as she perceived the exaltation -with which her son Paul was filled by her grandfather's words; whilst -Boisgelin expressed his irritation by impatient movements. - -'But, grandfather,' said she, 'to whom and how are we to give back?' - -The old man turned his bright eyes upon Luc. 'If I desired the founder -of La Crêcherie to be present,' said he, 'it was in order that he might -hear me and help you, my children. He has already done much for the -work of reparation, he alone can intervene and restore what remains of -our fortune to the sons and grandsons of those who were my own and my -father's comrades.' - -Luc was filled with emotion by the wondrous nobility of the scene, -yet he hesitated, for he could divine Boisgelin's keen hostility. 'I -can only do one thing,' said he--'that is, if the owners of the Abyss -are willing I will procure them admission into our association at La -Crêcherie. In the same way as other factories have already done, the -Abyss will increase our family--double, in fact, the importance of our -growing town. If by 'giving back' you mean a return to increase of -justice, a step towards the absolute justice of the future, I will help -you, I will consent to what you say with all my heart.' - -'I know you will,' Monsieur Jérôme slowly answered; 'I ask nothing -more.' - -But Boisgelin, unable to restrain himself any longer, began to protest. -'Ah! that is not what I desire. However much it may distress me to do -so, I am willing to sell the Abyss to La Crêcherie. A price will have -to be agreed upon, and in addition to the amount which may be fixed I -desire to retain an interest in the enterprise, which also will have to -be arranged. I need money and I wish to sell.' - -This was the plan which he had been maturing for some days past, in the -idea that Luc was eager to secure possession of the Abyss land, and -that he would be able to obtain a considerable sum from him at once, -as well as a future income. But this plan entirely collapsed when Luc -declared in a voice expressive of irrevocable determination: 'It is -impossible for us to buy. It is contrary to the spirit which guides us. -We are simply an association, a family open to all those brothers who -may wish to join us.' - -Then Monsieur Jérôme, whose bright eyes had been fixed on Boisgelin, -resumed with sovereign tranquillity of manner: 'It is I who wish -it and who order it. My granddaughter, Suzanne, here present, is -co-proprietress of the Abyss, and she will refuse her consent to any -other arrangement than that which I desire. And, like myself, I am sure -that she will have but one regret, that of being unable to restore -everything, of having to accept interest on her capital, which she will -dispose of as her heart may dictate.' - -And as Boisgelin remained silent, submitting to the others with the -weakness that had come with his ruin, the old man continued: 'But that -is not all, there remain La Guerdache and the farm--they must be given -back, given back.' - -Then, though he was again experiencing a difficulty in speaking and -was well-nigh exhausted, he made his last desires known. As the Abyss -would be blended with La Crêcherie, he wished the farm to join the -association of Les Combettes, so as to enlarge the fields which had -been united by Lenfant, Yvonnot, and all the other peasants, who had -been living together like brothers since a proper understanding of -their interests had reconciled them. There would be but one stretch -of earth, one common mother, loved by all, tilled by all, and feeding -all. The whole plain of La Roumagne would end by yielding one vast -harvest to fill the granaries of regenerated Beauclair. And as for -La Guerdache, which entirely belonged to Suzanne, he charged her to -restore it to the poor and suffering, so that she might keep nothing of -the property which had poisoned the Qurignons. Then, reverting to Paul, -who still sat on the edge of the bed, and taking his hand in his own, -and looking at him earnestly with his eyes which were now growing dim, -Monsieur Jérôme said in a lower and lower voice: 'One must give back, -one must give back, my child. You will keep nothing, you will give -yonder park to the old comrades, so that they may rejoice there on high -days, and so that their wives and children may walk there and enjoy -hours of gaiety and good health under the fine trees. And you will also -give back this house, this huge residence which we did not know how to -fill in spite of all our money, for I wish it to belong to the wives -and the children of poor workmen. They will be welcomed here and nursed -when they are ailing or when they are weary. Keep nothing, give all, -all back, my child, if you wish to save yourself from poison. And work -and live solely on the fruits of your work, and seek out the daughter -of some old comrade who still works and marry her, so that she may -bring you handsome children, who also will work, who will be just and -happy beings, and in their turn have handsome children for the eternal -work of futurity. Keep nothing, my child, give everything back, for -therein alone lies salvation, peace, and joy.' - -They were all weeping now--never had a more beautiful, a loftier, a -more heroic breath passed over human souls. The great room had become -august. And the eyes of the old man, which had filled it with light, -faded slowly, whilst his voice likewise became fainter, returning -to eternal silence. He had at last accomplished his sublime work of -reparation, truth, and justice, to help on the advent of the happiness -which is the primordial right of every man. And his duty done, that -same evening he died. - -Before then, however, when Suzanne and Luc left Monsieur Jérôme's -room together, they found themselves alone for a moment in the little -_salon_. They were so overcome by emotion that their hearts rose to -their lips. - -'Rely on me,' said Luc. 'I swear to you that I will watch over the -fulfilment of the supreme desires which have been committed to you. I -will attend to matters from this moment.' - -She had taken hold of his hands. 'Oh! my friend,' she answered, 'I -place my faith in you. I know what miracles you have already performed, -and I do not doubt the prodigy which you will accomplish by reconciling -us all. Ah! there is nothing but love. Ah! if I had only been loved as -I myself loved!' - -She was trembling. The secret of which she herself had been ignorant so -long, escaped her at that solemn moment. 'My friend, my friend,' she -repeated, 'what strength I should have had for doing good, what help -might I not have given had I felt beside me the arm of a just man, a -hero, one whom I should have made my god! But if it be too late for -that, will you at least accept what help I may be able to give as a -friend, a sister----' - -He understood her. It was a repetition of Sœurette's sweet, sad case. -She had loved him without revealing it, without even owning it to -herself, like an honest woman eager for tenderness, who amidst the -torments of her household dreamt of happy love. And now that Josine was -chosen, now that all else was dead without possibility of resurrection, -she gave herself, even as Sœurette had done, as a sisterly companion, a -devoted friend, who longed to participate in his mission. - -'If I will accept your help!' cried Luc, who was touched to tears. 'Ah! -yes indeed, there is never enough affection, enough help and active -tenderness. The work is vast, and you will have ample opportunities for -giving without stint your heart. Come with us, my friend, and stay with -us, and you will be part of my thoughts and my love.' - -She was transported by his words, she threw herself into his arms, -and they kissed. An indissoluble bond was being formed between -them, a marriage of sentiment, of exquisite purity, in which there -was nought but a common passion for the poor and the suffering, an -inextinguishable desire to obliterate the misery of the world. - -Months went by, and the liquidation of the affairs of the Abyss, -which were extremely involved, proved a most laborious matter. Before -everything else it was necessary to get rid of the debt of six hundred -thousand francs. Arrangements were at last entered into with the -creditors, who agreed to accept payment in annuities levied upon the -share of profits to which the Abyss would be entitled when it entered -the Crêcherie association. Then it was necessary to value the plant -and materials saved from the fire. These, with all the land stretching -along the Mionne as far as Old Beauclair, formed the share of capital -which the Boisgelins brought into the association; and a modest income, -levied on the profits before they were divided among the creditors, was -ensured them. Old Qurignon's desires were but half fulfilled during -that period of transition, when capital still held a position similar -to that of work and intelligence, pending the time when, with the -victory of sovereign work, it would altogether disappear. - -At least, however, La Guerdache and the farm returned completely to the -commonalty, the heirs of the toilers, who had formerly paid for them -with the sweat of their brows, for as soon as the farm lands--entering -the Combettes association in accordance with the long-planned schemes -of Feuillat--began to prosper and yield gain, the whole of the money -was employed to transform La Guerdache into a convalescent home for -weak children and women who had recently become mothers. Free beds were -installed there, with gratuitous board, and the park now belonged to -the humble ones of the world, forming a huge garden, a paradise as of -dreamland, where children played, where mothers recovered their health, -where the multitude enjoyed recreation as in some palace of nature -which had become the palace of one and all. - -Years went by. Luc had ceded one of the little houses of La Crêcherie, -near the pavilion which he still occupied, to the Boisgelins. And at -first that modest life proved very hard for Boisgelin, who did not -become resigned to it without violent fits of revolt. At one moment -he even wished to go to Paris to live there chancewise, as he listed. -But his innate sloth and the impossibility of earning his own living -rendered him as weak as a child, and placed him in the hands of whoever -cared to take him. Since his downfall Suzanne, so sensible, so gentle, -and yet so firm, had acquired absolute authority over him, and he -always ended by doing what she wished, like a poor rudderless creature -carried away by the stream of life. Soon, too, among that active world -of workers he felt idleness weighing upon him to such a degree that -he began to desire some occupation. He felt weary of dragging himself -about all day long, he suffered from a secret feeling of shame, a need -of action, for he could no longer tire himself with the management and -squandering of a large fortune. Shooting remained a resource for him -during the winter months, but as soon as the fine weather came there -was nothing for him to do except to ride out occasionally, and dismal -_ennui_ then crushed him down. And so when Suzanne prevailed on Luc to -confide an inspectorship to him, a kind of control over a department -of the general stores, which meant employment for three hours of his -time every day, he ended by accepting the offer. His health, which had -suffered, then improved; still he always displayed anxiety, wearing a -lost, unhappy air, such as one might find in a man who had fallen from -one planet to another. - -And years again went by. Suzanne had become the friend and sister -of Josine and Sœurette, in whose work she participated. All -three surrounded Luc, sustaining him and completing him, like -personifications of kindness, love, and gentleness. He called them with -a smile his three virtues. They busied themselves with the _crèches_, -the schools, the infirmaries, and the convalescent homes, they went -wherever there might be weakness to protect, pain to assuage, joy to -initiate. Sœurette and Suzanne, in particular, took on themselves the -most ungrateful tasks, those which require personal abnegation, entire -renunciation; whilst Josine, having to attend to her children, her -ever-growing home, naturally bestowed less of her time upon others. -She, moreover, was the _amorosa_, the flower of beauty and desire, -whilst Sœurette and Suzanne were the friends, the consolers, and the -counsellors. At times some very bitter trials still fell on Luc, and -often, on quitting his wife's embrace, it was to his two friends that -he listened, charging them to dress the wounds they spoke of and devote -themselves to the common work of salvation. It was by and for women -that the future city had to be founded. - -Eight years had already elapsed when Paul Boisgelin, who was -seven-and-twenty, married Bonnaire's eldest daughter, then twenty-four -years old. As soon as the lands of La Guerdache had entered the -Combettes association, Paul, with Feuillat, the former farmer, had -begun to take a passionate interest in promoting the fertility of -the vast expanse which those fields had enlarged. He had become an -agriculturist, and directed one of the sections of the domain, which -it had been necessary to divide into several groups. And it was at his -parents' little house at La Crêcherie, whither he returned to sleep -every night, that he had renewed his acquaintance with Antoinette, -who lived with her parents in a neighbouring house. Close intercourse -had sprung up between that simple family of workers and the former -heiress of the Qurignons, who now lived so modestly and welcomed every -one so kindly. And although Madame Bonnaire, the terrible La Toupe, -had remained a rather difficult customer to deal with, the simple -nobility of character displayed by Bonnaire, that hero of work, one of -the founders of the new city, had sufficed to render the intercourse -intimate. It was charming to see the children loving one another, and -drawing yet closer the links which had thus been formed between the -representatives of two classes which had formerly fought one against -the other. Antoinette, who resembled her father, being a good-looking, -sturdy brunette, possessed of no little natural gracefulness, had -passed through Sœurette's schools, and now helped her at the big dairy -which was installed at the end of the park beside the ridge of the -Bleuse Mountains. As she said with a laugh, she was simply a dairymaid, -expert with milk, and cheese, and butter. When the young people -married, he, Paul, a _bourgeois_ by birth, who had gone back to the -soil, and she, Antoinette, a daughter of the people working with her -hands, a great _fête_ was given, for there was a desire to celebrate as -gloriously as possible those symbolical nuptials, which proclaimed the -reconciliation, the union of repentant capitalism and triumphant work. - -During the ensuing year, one warm June day, shortly after the birth -of Antoinette's first child, the Boisgelins, accompanied by Luc, once -more found themselves together at La Guerdache. Nearly ten years had -now elapsed since the death of Monsieur Jérôme and the restitution of -the estate to the people in accordance with his desire. Antoinette had -for some time been a _pensionnaire_ in the convalescent home which -had been installed in the château where the Qurignons had reigned; -and, leaning on the arm of her husband, she was now able to stroll -under the beautiful foliage of the park, whilst Suzanne, like a good -grandmother, carried the baby. A few paces in the rear walked Luc -and Boisgelin. And what memories arose at the sight of that princely -house, those copses, those lawns, those avenues where the uproar of -costly _fêtes_, the galloping of horses and the baying of hounds no -longer resounded, but where the humble of the world at last enjoyed -the health-giving open air, and the restful delight that came from -the great trees! All the luxury of that magnificent domain was now -theirs, the convalescent home opened its bright bed-rooms, its pleasant -_salons_, its well-stocked larders to them, the park reserved for them -its shady paths, its crystalline springs, its lawns where for their -delight gardeners cultivated beds of perfume-shedding flowers. They -found there their long-withheld share of beauty and grace. And it was -delightful to see infancy, youth, and motherhood--which for centuries -had been condemned to suffering, shut up in sunless hovels, dying of -filthy wretchedness--suddenly summoned to partake of the joy of life, -the share of happiness belonging by right to every human creature, that -luxury of happiness at which innumerable generations of starvelings had -gazed from afar without ever being able to touch it! - -As the young married couple, followed by the others, at last reached a -pool of water glistening with mirror-like limpidity under the blue sky, -beyond a row of willows, Luc began to laugh softly. - -'Ah, my friends!' said he, 'what a gay and pretty scene this recalls to -me! You know nothing about it, eh? Nevertheless it was at the edge of -this calm water that Paul and Antoinette were betrothed a score or so -of years ago.' - -Then he spoke of the delightful scene which he had witnessed beside -that pond on the occasion of his first visit to La Guerdache--the -invasion of the park by three youngsters of the streets, Nanet bringing -his companions, Lucien and Antoinette Bonnaire, through a gap in the -hedge in order that they might play beside the pond; then Lucien's -ingenious invention, the little boat which travelled all alone over the -water; and the arrival of the three little _bourgeois_, Paul Boisgelin, -Nise Delaveau, and Louise Mazelle, who all marvelled at the boat, and -immediately made friends with the intruders. And couples had been -formed quite naturally, there had been betrothals at once, Paul with -Antoinette, Nise with Nanet, Louise with Lucien, amidst the smiling -complicity of kind-hearted Nature, the eternal mother. - -'Don't you remember it?' asked Luc gaily. - -The young couple, who joined in his laughter, declared that he went -back too far. 'If I was only four years old,' said Antoinette, who felt -highly amused, 'my memory could not have been a very strong one.' - -But Paul, gazing fixedly into the past, was making an effort to recall -the scene. 'I was seven,' said he. 'Wait a moment! It seems to me that -I vaguely remember--the little boat had to be brought back with a pole -whenever its wheels ceased turning; and then one of the little girls -narrowly missed falling into the pond; and afterwards the intruders, -the little bandits, ran away on seeing some people approach.' - -'That was it!' cried Luc. 'Ah! so you remember! Well, for my part, I -remember that day experiencing a quiver of hope in the future, for that -scene in some measure suggested the reconciliation which was to come. -Childhood in its naïve fraternity was at work here, taking a first -step towards justice and peace. And whatever fresh happiness you may -bring about, you know, will be yet increased by that little gentleman -yonder.' - -He pointed to the baby, little Ludovic, now lying in the arms of -Suzanne, who felt so happy at being a grandmother. She, on her side, -jestingly retorted: 'For the time being he is very good, because he -is asleep. Later on, my dear Luc, we will marry him to one of your -granddaughters, and in that manner the reconciliation will be complete, -all the combatants of yesterday will be united and pacified in the -persons of their descendants. Are you willing? Shall we have the -betrothal to-day?' - -'Am I willing? Certainly I am! Our great-grandchildren will push on our -work hand in hand.' - -Paul and Antoinette felt moved, and kissed one another, whilst -Boisgelin, who was not listening, looked round the park, his former -estate, in a mournful manner, though without any bitterness, to such a -degree indeed had the new world upset and stupefied him. And then they -all resumed their walk along the shady paths, Luc and Suzanne silently -exchanging smiles which told their joy. - -When they all came back to the house they paused for a moment before -it, to the left of the steps, under the windows of the very room where -Monsieur Jérôme had died. From that point one perceived--between the -crests of the great trees--the distant roofs of Beauclair, and then La -Crêcherie and the Abyss. They gazed upon that spreading panorama in -silence. They could plainly distinguish the Abyss, now built afresh on -the same plan as La Crêcherie, and forming with it one sole city of -work--work, reorganised and ennobled, transformed into man's pride, -health, and gaiety. More justice and more love were born there every -morning. And the waves of little smiling houses, set in greenery, those -waves which the anxious Delaveau had seen always advancing, had flowed -over the once black land without a halt, ever enlarging the future -city. They now occupied the whole expanse from the ridge of the Bleuse -Mountains to the Mionne, and they would soon cross the narrow torrent, -to sweep away Old Beauclair, that sordid agglomeration of the hovels -of servitude and agony. And as they advanced they built up stone by -stone--under the fraternal sun, even to the verge of the fertile fields -of La Roumagne--the city where all at last would be freedom, justice, -and happiness. - - - -II - - -Whilst evolution was carrying Beauclair towards its new destiny, -love, young, gay, and victorious, asserted itself, and on all sides -there came frequent marriages, drawing various classes together and -hastening the advent of harmony and final peace. Love the victorious -overthrew all obstacles, triumphed over the greatest resistance with a -passion full of happy vitality, an explosion of joy which proclaimed -in the broad sunlight what happiness there was in being, in loving, in -creating yet more and more. - -Luc and Josine had set the example. During the last ten years a family -of three boys and two girls had sprung up around them. Hilaire, the -eldest, born before the collapse of the Abyss, was already eleven. -Then, at intervals of two years, had come the others: Charles, who was -now nine years old; Thérèse, who was seven; Pauline, who was five; and -Jules, who was three. To the old pavilion another structure had been -added, and there these children romped, filling the place with gaiety -and hope, and growing up for future unions. As Luc, in delight, often -said to the smiling Josine, the constancy of their affection sprang -largely from that triumphant fruitfulness. In Josine, the _amorosa_ had -now largely given way to the mother; yet she and Luc were still lovers, -for love does not age, it remains the eternal flame, the immortal -brazier whence the life of the world derives its being. Never had a -home resounded with brighter gaiety than theirs, full as it was of -children and flowers. And they loved one another so well there, that -misfortune passed them by. Whenever any recollection of the dolorous -past returned, when Josine recalled her sufferings and the downfall in -which she would have perished had it not been for Luc's helping hand, -she flung her arms around his neck in a transport of inexhaustible -gratitude, whilst he, full of emotion, felt that the iniquitous -opprobrium from which he had saved her rendered her all the dearer to -him. - -Nanet, little Nanet, who was now becoming a man, lodged with Luc, -beside his 'big sister,' as he still called Josine. Gifted with keen -intelligence and an enterprising bravery which was ever on the alert, -the young fellow captivated Luc, whose dearest pupil he became, a -youthful disciple full of the master's lessons. And meantime, at the -Jordans', whose house was so near to Luc's, Nise, little Nise, was -likewise growing up in the affectionate charge of Sœurette, who had -given her a home on the morrow of the destruction of the Abyss, happy -in being able to adopt the young girl, in whom she found a charming -companion and assistant. And it followed that Nanet and Nise, seeing -one another every day, ended by living solely one for the other. As a -matter of fact, did not their betrothal date from infancy, from the -distant days when child-love, divine ingenuousness, had filled them -with a craving to be together, impelling them to brave all punishments -and even to scale walls in order to meet? They had been fair and curly -like little lambs in those days, and how silvery had seemed their -laughter when at each meeting they embraced, knowing nothing of what -parted them socially, she the _bourgeoise_ by birth, the master's -daughter, and he the urchin of the streets, the penniless son of a -wretched manual worker. Then had come the frightful tempest of flames, -Nise saved by Nanet, to whose neck she had clung, both of them covered -with burns, and at one moment in danger of death. And to-day also they -were both fair and curly, they gave vent to the same light laughter as -in childhood, and displayed a similarity of demeanour as if one matched -the other. But Nise had now become a big girl, Nanet a big youth, and -they adored one another. - -The idyll lasted for nearly seven years longer, whilst Luc was making -a man of Nanet, and Sœurette was helping Nise to grow up in kindliness -and beauty. Nise had been thirteen years of age at the time of the -terrible death of her father and mother, whose remains had been reduced -to ashes, in such wise that nothing of them was found under the -remnants of the burnt house. For long years the girl shuddered at the -recollection of that night. There was no reason to hurry her marriage; -so far as that was concerned, indeed, her friends wished to wait until -she should be twenty in order that she herself might come to a free and -sensible decision. Besides, Nanet himself was very young, her elder by -scarcely three years, and still an apprentice. With their gay playful -natures, moreover, simply intent as they were on making merry together, -they themselves were in no hurry. They met every evening, and found a -simple enjoyment in telling one another what they had done during the -day. They would often sit hand in hand, and when they parted for the -night they exchanged an affectionate kiss. But amidst their cordial -agreement there were at times some little quarrels. Nanet occasionally -found Nise too proud and wilful; she put on her princess's airs, as he -was wont to remark. Again, he sometimes thought her too coquettish, too -fond of fine attire and of the _fêtes_ at which she displayed it. Of -course it was not forbidden to appear beautiful--on the contrary; but -it was not right to spoil one's beauty by assuming an air of contempt -for others. At first Nise, in whom reappeared some little of her -mother's passion for enjoyment and her father's despotic disposition, -grew angry when she was reproved, and endeavoured to demonstrate that -she was perfection itself. But as she worshipped Nanet she ended by -confiding in him, listening to him, and striving to please him by -becoming the best and gentlest of little women. And when, as sometimes -happened, she did not succeed in this, she remarked with a laugh that -if she should ever have a daughter the latter would no doubt be much -better than herself, because it was necessary that the blood of the -princes of this world should have time to become democratised among a -more brotherly line of descendants. - -The wedding at last took place, when Nise was twenty and Nanet -twenty-three years old. It had long been wished for, foreseen, and -awaited. For seven years not a day had elapsed without a step towards -this _dénouement_ of the long and happy idyll. And as this marriage -of Delaveau's daughter with the brother of Josine, who was now to all -intents and purposes Luc's wife, extinguished all hatred, and sealed a -pact of alliance, there was a desire that it should be made a festival -celebrating forgiveness of the past and the new community's radiant -entry into the future. With this object it was decided that there -should be singing and dancing on the very site of the Abyss, in one of -the halls now erected there as an adjunct to La Crêcherie, which at -present spread over acres and acres of ground, and ever and ever grew. - -Luc and Sœurette were the organisers and masters of the ceremonies of -this marriage festival, as well as the witnesses of the bridal pair, -Luc being witness for Nanet, and Sœurette for Nise. They wished to -impart to the festival all the splendour of a triumph, to endow it -with the gaiety of hope's fulfilment, to make it like the very victory -of the city of work and peace, now founded and prosperous. It is good -that communities should indulge in great rejoicings; public life needs -frequent days of beauty, joy, and exultation. Thus Luc and Sœurette -chose the great foundry hall, where so many of the monster-like -hammers, the gigantic rolling bridges, the movable cranes of prodigious -strength were gathered together. The new buildings, all bricks and -steelwork, were clean and healthy, and full of joyous brightness with -their large windows through which streamed both air and sunlight. -And the plant was left in position, especially as, for a festival of -triumphant work, one could not have devised any better decorations -than were provided by those gigantic appliances, whose powerful forms -were instinct with a sovereign beauty compounded of logic, strength, -and certainty. However, they were decorated with foliage and crowned -with flowers, even as were altars in ancient times. The brick walls, -too, were ornamented with garlands of verdure, and the very pavement -was strewn with roses and broom flowers. The whole seemed like the -blossoming of man's effort to attain happiness, an effort which had -ended by flowering there, scattering perfume around the toil of the -worker, a toil once unjust and hard, but now attractive and leading -solely to happiness. - -Two processions set forth, one from the home of the bridegroom, the -other from that of the bride. On his side Luc, followed by his wife -Josine and their children, brought the hero Nanet; on hers, Sœurette, -with her brother Jordan, brought their adopted daughter, the heroine -Nise. The whole population of the new city, where all work was stopped -in token of rejoicing, lined the road to acclaim the bridal pair. -The beautiful sun shone out, the gay houses were decked with bright -colours, the greenery was full of flowers and birds. And in the rear -of either _cortège_ followed the crowd of workers, a vast concourse of -joyous people who gradually invaded the great halls of the works, which -were as lofty and as broad as the naves of the old-time cathedrals. -The foundry hall, whither the bridal couple repaired, was soon crowded -to excess in spite of its immensity. In addition to Luc, his family, -and the Jordans, there were the Boisgelins with Paul, who at that time -had not yet married Antoinette, for their wedding was only to take -place four years later. Then came the Bonnaires, the Bourrons, even the -Fauchards, indeed, all those whose arms had contributed to the victory -of work. Those men of good will and faith, those workers of the first -days, had increased and multiplied. Was not the throng of comrades -around them an enlargement of their families, an assemblage of -brothers whose numbers still increased daily? There were five thousand -of them, and soon there would be ten. They would increase to a hundred -thousand, to a million, and would at last absorb all mankind. - -The ceremony, in the midst of the powerful machinery decked with -flowers and garlands of verdure, was one of sovereign and touching -simplicity. - -With smiling mien Luc and Sœurette placed Nanet's and Nise's hands one -in the other. - -'Love one another with all your hearts,' they said to them, 'and have -handsome children who will love one another as you yourselves will be -loved.' - -The crowd raised acclamations, and shouted the word 'Love!' For it was -King Love who alone could render work fruitful, by making the race -ever more and more numerous, and inflaming it with desire, the eternal -source of life. - -But in all this there was already too much solemnity for Nanet and -Nise, who had loved one another so playfully ever since childhood. -Although those two little curly lambs had grown up, they remained -like toys in their festival raiment, both clad in white, charming and -delightful. And they were not content with a ceremonious hand-shake. -They fell upon each other's neck. - -'Ah! my little Nise, how happy I am to have you for my wife at last, -after waiting for you for years and years!' - -'Ah! my little Nanet, how happy I am to belong to you, for it is quite -true, you have earned it!' - -'And little Nise, do you remember when I pulled you up by the arms to -help you over the walls, and when I carried you pick-a-back, and played -at being a rearing horse?' - -'And little Nanet, do you remember when we played at hide-and-seek, and -you ended by finding me among the rosebushes, so well hidden there that -it was enough to make me die of laughing?' - -'Little Nise, little Nise, we'll love each other as we played, very -heartily, with all, all the strength of health and gaiety.' - -'Little Nanet, little Nanet, we played so much, and we will love one -another so much, that we shall love yet again in our children, and play -again even with our children's children.' - -And they embraced, and laughed, and played together, raised to the -highest felicity. The throng, filled with enthusiasm by the sight, -traversed by a wave of sonorous gaiety, clapped hands and acclaimed -love, almighty love, which without cessation creates more and more -life and happiness. Then the singing began, chorus singing, in which -the aged sang their well-earned rest, the men the triumph of their -toil, the women the helpful sweetness of their love, the children the -confident cheerfulness of their hopes. Afterwards came the dances, -with a great final round and chain, which brought all that brotherly -little people hand in hand, stretching out and revolving for hours to -the strains of gay music, through the halls of the huge works. They -had formerly toiled so much and suffered so much in the dirty, grimy, -unhealthy inferno which had stood there, and which the flames had -swept away. The sunshine, the air, and life, now entered freely. And -the marriage _ronde_ still came and went around the huge appliances, -the colossal presses, the formidable steam hammers, the gigantic -planing-machines, which wore a smiling aspect beneath their adornments -of flowers and foliage, whilst the young married couple led the dance, -as if in them rested the soul of all those things, that morrow of -increase in equity and fraternity, which the victory of their long -affection had ensured. - -Luc was preparing a surprise for Jordan, for he also wished to -celebrate the labour of the scientist whose endeavours would contribute -more than a hundred years of politics could have done to the happiness -of the city. When the night had fallen and it was quite dark, the whole -works suddenly glowed, thousands of lamps casting the gay light of -day-time over the place. Jordan's researches, it should be said, had at -last yielded fruit. After many defeats he had devised a system for the -transport of electrical force without loss, employing new appliances, -ingenious means of transmission. Henceforth the cost of conveying coal -was saved, it was burnt at the pit's mouth, and the machinery which -transformed calorical into electrical energy sent it to La Crêcherie by -special cables, which allowed of no loss on the way, in such wise that -the cost price was now only half of what it had formerly been. This -then was a first great victory, La Crêcherie profusely illumined, power -distributed abundantly among both the large and the small appliances, -comfort increased, work facilitated, and fortune augmented. And at the -same time it was virtually a fresh step towards happiness. - -When Jordan, on beholding the festive illumination, understood Luc's -affectionate intention, he began to laugh like a child. - -'Ah! my friend, so you give me a bouquet too! As a matter of fact, I -rather deserve it, for as you must remember I had been striving to -solve the problem for ten long years! What obstacles, what defeats did -I not encounter when I imagined success to be a certainty! But, no -matter, I set to work afresh on the morrow, on the ruins of all the -experiments that had failed. A man always ends by succeeding when he -works.' - -Luc was laughing with his friend, whose courage and faith he shared. - -'I know that very well,' said he in reply; 'you are the living proof -of it. I know no greater, loftier master of energy than you, and I -have tried to follow your example. Well, so night is now vanquished, -you have put darkness to flight, and as electricity at present costs -so little, we shall be able to light up a planet above La Crêcherie, -to replace the sun as soon as evening comes. And you have also wrought -economy in human toil, for, thanks to the abundance of mechanical power -yielded by your system, one man now suffices for work in which two had -to be employed. Thus we acclaim you as the master of light and warmth -and power.' - -Jordan, wrapped in a rug which Sœurette, fearing the coolness of the -evening, had thrown over his shoulders, was still looking at the huge -pile around him, now sparkling like a palace of fairyland. Short -and puny, with a pale face and the feeble air of one who is on the -point of dying, he strolled about those glowing halls, examining them -curiously, for during the last ten years he had scarcely stirred from -his laboratory. Thus he marvelled at the results already obtained, the -success of a work of which he had been both the least known and the -most active artisan. - -'Yes, yes,' he muttered, 'the result is very good already, no little -ground has been gained. We are advancing, the future we dreamt of is -nearer to us. And I owe you my apologies, my dear Luc, for I did not -hide from you at the outset that I scarcely believed in the success of -your mission. But you still have a great deal to accomplish, and for -my part, alas! I have done next to nothing by the side of all that I -should like to do.' - -He became grave and thoughtful. 'Though we have reduced the cost of -electricity by one half, it still remains too high,' he said; 'and, -besides, all the intricate and expensive installations at the mouths -of the pits, the steam engines and the boilers, without mentioning -the miles of cables which have to be kept in repair, are barbarous, -and consume time and money. Something else is needed, something more -practical, simple, and direct. I know very well in what direction I -ought to look, but such a search seems madness, and I don't dare to -tell people what work I have undertaken, for I myself can't describe -it clearly. Yet yes, one ought to suppress the engine and the boiler, -which are cumbersome intermediaries between the coal extracted and -the electricity which is produced. In a word, one ought to be able to -transform the calorical energy contained in the coal into electrical -energy, without having to bring mechanical energy into play. I don't -yet know how that is to be done, but I have set to work, and I hope -to succeed. And if I do, you'll then see that electricity will cost -scarcely anything. We shall be able to give it to everybody, spread it -broadcast, and make it the victorious agent of universal comfort.' - -He grew more and more enthusiastic, drawing himself up with passionate -gestures as he spoke, he who as a rule remained so silent and -thoughtful. - -'The day must come,' he resumed, 'when electricity will belong to -everybody, like the water of the rivers and the breezes of the heavens. -It will be necessary to give it abundantly to one and all, and to allow -men to dispose of it as they choose. It must circulate in our towns -like the very blood of social life. In each house one must merely have -to turn on a switch or a tap to obtain a profusion of power, heat, and -light. At night-time, in the black sky, electricity will set another -sun, which will extinguish the stars. And it will suppress winter, -it will bring eternal summer into being, warming the old earth, and -ascending to melt the snow even among the clouds. This is why I am not -particularly proud of what I have done as yet, for it is very little by -the side of all that has to be accomplished.' - -And with an air of quiet disdain he concluded: 'I can't even get a -practical result from my electrical furnaces. They are still mere -experimental furnaces. Electricity is still too costly--one must wait -till its employment proves remunerative, and for that to be it should -not cost us more than the waters of the rivers and the atmosphere of -the heavens. When I am able to give it in a flood without counting, my -furnaces will revolutionise metallurgy. Oh! I well know the only path -to follow, and I have already set to work!' - -The night festival was a marvellous one. The dancing and singing -had begun afresh in the dazzling halls, where the throng continued -celebrating the marriage until the time came to escort Nanet and Nise -to their nuptial home, amidst acclamations in honour of the love which -had united them. - -About this time love likewise revolutionised the _bourgeoisie_ of -Beauclair, and it was in the home of the Mazelles, those idlers living -on their income, that the tempest first burst forth. Their daughter -Louise had always surprised and upset them, so different was her nature -from their own. An extremely active and enterprising girl, she was -ever at work in the house, declaring that idleness would kill her. Her -parents, who placed their great delight in doing nothing, could not -understand how it was that she spoilt her days by useless agitation. -She was an only child, said they, and would have a very fine fortune -invested in State Rentes, and so was she not unreasonable in refusing -to shut herself up in her cosy nook, well sheltered from the worries of -life? They, her parents, were content with their egotistical happiness, -and why therefore did she trouble about the passing beggar, the ideas -which were changing the world, the incidents which disturbed the -streets? But whatever might be said, she remained all of a quiver, full -of life, taking a passionate interest in everything; and thus, amidst -her parents' deep love for her, there was a great deal of stupefaction -at having a daughter so utterly unlike themselves. At last she utterly -upset them by a _coup de passion_, at which they had at first simply -shrugged their shoulders, thinking it some mere fancy or whim. But -things soon came to such a climax that they almost believed the end of -the world to be at hand. - -Louise Mazelle had remained a great friend of Nise Delaveau, whom she -had frequently met at the home of the Boisgelins, since the latter -had been installed at La Crêcherie. There also she had again met -Lucien Bonnaire, her former playmate, now a tall and handsome fellow -of twenty-three, whilst she herself was twenty. Lucien no longer -made little boats which travelled by themselves over the water, but -under Luc's guidance he had become a very intelligent and inventive -mechanician, destined to render great services to La Crêcherie, where -he already fitted up the machinery. He was not a 'monsieur,' he took -a sort of courageous pride in remaining a simple workman, like his -father, whom he revered. And no doubt, in the ardent love with which -Louise was inspired for him, there was some little of the natural -rebellion which urged her on to flout _bourgeois_ notions, and to -behave differently from the folk of her sphere. At all events her -old friendship for Lucien became a passionate love that chafed at -obstacles. He, touched by the keen attachment of that pretty, active, -smiling girl, ended by loving her quite as deeply; but he was certainly -the more reasonable of the two, and desired to hurt nobody's feelings. -He suffered at the idea that she was too refined and too rich for him, -and simply spoke of remaining a bachelor if he could not have her; -whereas she, at the mere thought of opposition to their marriage, -became wildly rebellious, and talked of throwing up position and -fortune to go and live with him. - -During nearly six months the battle went on. Lucien's parents looked on -the proposed marriage with covert distrust. Bonnaire, with his common -sense, would much have preferred to see his son marry some mate's -daughter. Time had already done its work, and there was no reason to -be proud of seeing one's son rise to another class, on the arm of a -daughter of the expiring _bourgeoisie_. All the profit of such an -alliance would soon be on the side of the _bourgeoisie_ itself, which -would intermarry with the people in order to regain blood and health -and strength. Quarrels on the subject of the match at last broke out -in Bonnaire's household. His wife, the proud and terrible Toupe, would -doubtless have consented to it, on condition that she also became a -lady, with fine gowns and jewels to wear. Nought of the evolution now -in progress around her had lessened her craving for domination and -display. She retained her hateful disposition even in her present easy -circumstances, often reproaching her husband for not having made a big -fortune like Monsieur Mazelle, an artful fellow, who had done no work -for years past. However, when she heard Lucien declare that even if he -should marry Louise, not a copper of the Mazelles' money should ever -enter his home, she quite lost her head, and in her turn opposed the -match, since it would not bring her any profit. - -One evening there was a stormy explanation between La Toupe, Bonnaire, -and Lucien, in the presence of Daddy Lunot, who was still alive, -and more than seventy years old. They had just finished dining in -the bright, clean dining-room, whose window opened on to the garden -greenery. There were even flowers on the table, where nowadays food -was always plentiful. Daddy Lunot, who at present had as much tobacco -as he cared for, had just lighted his pipe, when La Toupe, for the mere -pleasure of getting into a temper, according to her old habit, turned -to Lucien and said to him sourly: 'So it's decided, eh--you still mean -to marry that _demoiselle_? I saw you with her again this morning at -Boisgelin's door. It seems to me that if you cared anything for us you -might have ceased meeting her, since you know that both your father and -myself are by no means over-pleased with the idea of that marriage.' - -Lucien, like a good son, avoided argument, particularly as he knew it -to be useless. Turning towards Bonnaire, he simply said: 'But I think -that my father is ready to consent.' - -To La Toupe this was like a whip-stroke, which urged her upon her -husband: 'What!' she exclaimed. 'You give your consent without warning -me of it? You told me less than a fortnight ago that such a marriage -wasn't reasonable to your thinking, and that you would have fears for -our lad's happiness if he were so foolish as to make it! So you turn -about like a weather-cock, eh?' - -Bonnaire quietly began to explain things: 'I should have preferred to -see the lad make another choice, but he's nearly four-and-twenty, and -I'm not going to force my will on him in a matter which concerns his -own heart. He knows what I think, and he'll do what he thinks best.' - -'Ah!' shouted back La Toupe, 'you're easily got over; you fancy -yourself a free man, but you always end by saying the same as the -others. During the twenty years that you've been here with Monsieur -Luc you've repeated that his ideas and yours are not the same, and -that he ought to have begun by seizing the instruments of work without -accepting money from the _bourgeois_. But all the same, you give way -to Monsieur Luc's wishes, and to-day, perhaps, you begin to like what -you've done together.' - -She rattled on, striving to hurt her husband's feelings and pride. She -had often exasperated him by trying to prove that his actions were -in contradiction with his principles. This time, however, he simply -shrugged his shoulders. 'There's no doubt that what we've done together -is very good,' said he. 'I may still regret that Monsieur Luc did not -follow my ideas; only you ought to be the last to complain of what -exists here, for we know nothing more of want, we are happy, happier -than any one of those _bourgeois_ whom you dream about.' - -This reply irritated her the more. 'As for what exists here, it would -be kind of you to explain it to me, for I've never understood anything -of it, you know,' she said. 'If you are happy, so much the better for -you; but I'm not happy, no, I'm not. Happiness is when one has plenty -of money and can retire and do nothing afterwards. All your rigmarole, -your division of profits, your stores where one gets things cheaply, -your coupons and your cash-desks, will never put a hundred thousand -francs into my pocket so that I may spend them as I please, on things -which I like--I am an unhappy woman, a very unhappy woman!' - -She was exaggerating things with the desire to make herself -disagreeable, yet there was truth in what she said. She had never grown -accustomed to La Crêcherie, she suffered there like a coquettish, -extravagant woman, whose instincts were wounded by Communistic -solidarity. A clean and active housewife, but of a quarrelsome, -stubborn, dull-witted nature, she continued making her home a hell, -when it should have been full of comfort. - -Bonnaire at last lost his patience so far as to say to her: 'You are -mad; it is you who make yourself unhappy and us too!' - -Thereupon she began to sob. Lucien, who felt very embarrassed whenever -such disputes arose between his parents, had to emerge from his silence -and kiss her and tell her that he loved and respected her. Nevertheless -she clung to her views, and shouted to her husband, 'Ah! just ask -my father what he thinks of your factory in which everybody has a -share, and that wonderful justice and happiness of yours, which are to -regenerate the world. He's an old workman, he is! You won't accuse him -of saying foolish things like a woman. And he's seventy years old, so -you can believe in his experience and sense!' - -Turning to Daddy Lunot, who was sucking the stem of his pipe, with the -blissful expression of a child, she went on: 'Isn't that so, father? -Aren't they idiots with all their inventions to do without masters, and -won't they end by making their own fingers smart?' - -The old man looked at her in his bewildered way before answering in a -husky voice: 'Of course--the Ragus and the Qurignons, ah! they were -comrades once upon a time. There was Monsieur Michel, who was five -years my senior. As for me, it was under Monsieur Jérôme that I entered -the works. But before the others there was Monsieur Blaise, with whom -my father, Jean Ragu, and my grandfather, Pierre Ragu worked. Pierre -Ragu and Blaise Qurignon were mates together, two wire-drawers, who -used the same anvil. And now you see the Qurignons are masters and -great millionaires, and the Ragus have remained poor devils as they -were before. Things can't change, and so one must believe that they are -well as they are.' - -He rambled slightly in the somnolence that had come over him, as over -some very old, maimed, and forgotten beast of burden, who by a miracle -had escaped the universal slaughterhouse. There were often days when he -failed to remember what had happened on the previous one. - -'But Daddy Lunot,' said Bonnaire, 'it so happens that things have -changed a good deal for some time past. Monsieur Jérôme, whom you speak -of, has long since been dead, and he gave back all that remained of his -fortune.' - -'Gave back--how's that?' - -'Yes, he gave back to his old comrades the wealth which he owed to -their toil and suffering. Don't you remember? it occurred a long time -ago already.' - -The old man searched in his dim memory. 'Ah! Yes, yes, I recollect--a -funny business it was! Well, if he gave his money back he was a fool.' - -The words were spoken sharply and contemptuously, for Daddy Lunot had -never dreamt of anything but making a big fortune like the Qurignons, -in order to enjoy life like a master, an idle gentleman, who amused -himself from morning till night. That had remained his ideal, even as -it was that of the whole generation of broken-down, exploited slaves, -whoso sole regret was that they had not been born among the exploiters. - -La Toupe burst into an insulting laugh. 'You see!' she cried, 'Father -isn't such a fool as you others are; he's not the man to start on a -wild-goose chase! Money's money; and when a man's rich he's the master!' - -Bonnaire shrugged his broad shoulders, whilst Lucien gazed in silence -through the window at the roses in the garden. What was the use of -arguing? She represented the stubborn past, she would pass away in the -Communist paradise, in the midst of fraternal happiness, denying its -very existence and regretting the days of wretchedness when she had -been obliged to save up ten sous one by one in order to buy herself a -strip of ribbon. - -Just then, however, Babette Bourron came in. Unlike La Toupe, she was -ever gay, ever delighted with her new position. By her smiling and -comforting optimism she had helped to save her simpleton of a husband -from the pit into which Ragu had fallen. She had invariably shown -confidence in the future, feeling certain that things would eventually -turn out all right. And she often jestingly remarked that La Crêcherie, -where work had become light, cleanly, and pleasant, where one and all -lived amidst comforts formerly reserved to the _bourgeois_ alone, -was like a fulfilment of her dreams of Paradise. Her doll-like face -remained fresh-looking under her carelessly twisted hair, and radiant -with the delight she felt at finding her husband cured of his passion -for drink, and at living in a gay house of her own with two handsome -children whom she would soon be marrying off. - -'Well, so it's decided, eh?' she exclaimed. 'Lucien is going to marry -Louise Mazelle, that charming little _bourgeoise_ who isn't ashamed of -us?' - -'Who told you that?' roughly asked La Toupe. - -'Why, Madame Luc, Josine, whom I met this morning.' - -La Toupe turned white with restrained wrath. Amidst her ceaseless -irritation with La Crêcherie there was a great deal of hatred against -Josine, whom she had never forgiven for having become the wife and -helpmate of Luc, that hero whom all admired, and for having, moreover, -a number of handsome children, who were now growing up for lives of -happiness. Could she not remember the days when that wretched creature -had been turned starving into the streets by her brother? Yet now she -met her wearing a bonnet like a lady. That was a crushing blow. She -would never be able to stomach the idea of that creature being happy. - -'Josine,' she roughly exclaimed, 'would do better to make people forget -what she calls her own marriage before meddling with marriages which -don't concern her. And as for me, you do nothing but aggravate me, so -just let me be!' - -Then she rushed out of the room, banging the door behind her, and -leaving the others in silent embarrassment. Babette was the first to -laugh, accustomed as she was to the manners of her friend, whom she -indulgently pronounced to be a good woman, though a wrong-headed one. -Tears, however, had risen to the eyes of Lucien, for it was his future -life that was at stake amidst all that quarrelling. His father pressed -his hand in a friendly way, as if to promise that he would arrange -matters. None the less Bonnaire himself remained very sad, quite upset -at finding happiness at the mercy of family jars. Would a spiteful -temper always suffice then to spoil the fruits of brotherliness? he -wondered. Daddy Lunot alone retained his blissful unconsciousness, -sitting there half asleep, with his pipe in his mouth. - -If Lucien entertained no doubt of the eventual consent of his parents, -Louise felt the resistance of hers increasing, and thus the battle -became fiercer every day. The Mazelles adored their daughter, and it -was in the name of this adoration that they refused to give way to her. -There were no violent explanations between them, but they persevered in -a kind of good-natured inertia, by which they fancied that the girl's -patience would be tired out. In vain did she fill the house with the -incessant rustling of her skirts, play feverishly on the piano, fling -flowers out of the window, though they were by no means faded, and give -many other signs of perturbation. They still peacefully smiled at her, -made a pretence of understanding nothing, and strove to glut her with -dainties and presents. She was enraged at being thus overwhelmed with -douceurs when she was denied the one thing which would have pleased -her; and at last she made up her mind to fall ill. She took to her bed, -turned her face to the wall, and refused to answer her parents when -they questioned her. Novarre, on being summoned, declared that such -ailments did not come within the scope of his profession. The only way -to cure girls who fell love-sick was to allow them to love as they -desired. Thereupon the Mazelles, quite distracted, realising that the -matter was becoming a serious one, held counsel together as to whether -they ought to give way. They spent a whole night talking it over, and -it seemed such a serious business, the consequences of which might be -so great, that they lacked the courage to come to a decision between -themselves. They resolved to bring their friends together in order to -submit the matter to them. In the revolutionary state of affairs with -which Beauclair was struggling, would it not be desertion on their part -to give their daughter to a workman? They felt that such a union would -be decisive, a final abdication on the part of the _bourgeoisie_, -the mercantile and propertied folk. And it was therefore natural that -the authorities, the leaders of the wealthy governing classes, should -be consulted. Thus, one fine afternoon, they invited Sub-Prefect -Châtelard, Mayor Gourier, Judge Gaume, and Abbé Marle to take tea with -them in their flowery garden, where they had spent so many idle days, -stretched face to face in large rocking chairs, and gazing at their -roses, without even tiring themselves by talking. - -'You see,' said Mazelle to his wife, 'we will do what those gentlemen -advise. They know more about such matters than we do, and nobody will -be able to blame us for following their counsel. For my part I am quite -losing my head, for all this business tortures my brain from morning -till night. - -'It's like me,' said Madame Mazelle. 'It isn't living to be obliged to -keep on thinking and thinking. Nothing could be worse for my complaint, -I'm sure of it.' - -The tea was served in an arbour of greenery in the garden one -beautiful, sunshiny afternoon. Sub-Prefect Châtelard and Mayor Gourier -were the first to arrive. They had remained inseparable, linked it -seemed even more closely together since the death of Madame Gourier, -the beautiful Léonore, who, during her last five years had remained an -invalid in an arm-chair, afflicted with paralysis of the legs, but most -devotedly nursed, her lover taking her husband's place to watch over -her and read to her whenever the other was obliged to absent himself. -It was, indeed, in Châtelard's arms that Léonore had suddenly expired -one evening while he was helping her to drink a cupful of lime-water, -whilst Gourier was outside smoking a cigar. When he came in again, the -two men wept together for the dear departed. And nowadays they were -inseparable, their duties leaving them plenty of leisure, for it was -only in a theoretical kind of way that they now governed the town, -the sub-prefect having prevailed on the mayor to follow his example, -and let things take their own course, rather than spoil his life by -trying to oppose the evolution, the progress of which nobody in the -world could have prevented. Nevertheless, Gourier, who often felt -afraid of the future, had some difficulty in taking this philosophical -course. He had become reconciled to his son Achille, whom Ma-Bleue had -presented with a very charming daughter, Léonie, who had the eyes of -her beautiful mother, big blue eyes suggesting some large blue lake, -some vast stretch of blue sky. Nearly twenty years of age at present, -fit to be married, Léonie had captivated her grandfather. And he had -resigned himself to opening his door to her parents, that son who had -formerly rebelled against his authority, and that Ma-Bleue, of whom he -still occasionally spoke as a savage. As he himself expressed it, it -was hard for him, a mayor, the celebrant of lawful marriage, to receive -at his fireside a couple of revolutionaries, who had simply espoused -one another under the stars one warm summer's night. But the times -were so strange, such extraordinary things happened, that a charming -granddaughter become a very acceptable present, even although she were -the offspring of impenitent free love. Châtelard had gaily insisted -on reconciliation; and Gourier, since his son had been bringing -Léonie to see him, had been more and more won over to the cause of La -Crêcherie, though, to his thinking, it had hitherto remained a source -of catastrophes. - -Judge Gaume and Abbé Marle were late in arriving that day at the -Mazelles', but the latter could not refrain from explaining their -position to the sub-prefect and the mayor. Ought they to resign -themselves to their daughter's unreasonable whim? - -'As you will certainly understand, Monsieur le Sous-Préfet,' said -Mazelle in an anxious but pompous manner, 'apart from the grief which -such a marriage would cause us, we have to consider the deplorable -effect which it would have socially, and our heavy responsibility -towards distinguished persons of our class. We really seem to be going -towards some abyss.' - -They were seated in the warm shade, perfumed by the climbing roses, -at a table with gay-coloured napery, on which stood several dishes -of little cakes; and Châtelard, still a well-groomed, fine-looking -man in spite of his years, smiled in a discreetly ironical manner. -'We are already in the abyss, dear Monsieur Mazelle,' he replied. 'It -would be very wrong of you to put yourself out about the Government, -the authorities, or even fine society, for only a semblance of these -things now exists. I am still sub-prefect and my friend Gourier is -still mayor, no doubt. Only we are scarcely more than shadows, and -there is no longer any real, substantial State behind us. And it is the -same with the powerful and the wealthy, a little of whose power and -wealth is carried off each succeeding day by the new organisation of -work. So don't take the trouble to defend them, particularly as they -themselves, yielding to vertigo, are now becoming active artisans of -the revolution. Don't resist then, yield to the current!' - -He was fond of that style of jesting, which terrified the last -_bourgeois_ of Beauclair. Moreover, it was an amiable and jocular way -of telling the truth, for he indeed felt convinced that the old world -was done for, and that a new one was springing from the ruins. Most -serious events were taking place in Paris, the ancient edifice was -falling stone by stone, giving place to a provisional structure, in -which one could already plainly detect the outlines of the future city -of justice and peace. - -But the Mazelles had turned pale. Whilst the wife sank back in -her armchair with her eyes fixed on the little cakes, the husband -exclaimed: 'Really! do you think us threatened to such a point as that? -I know very well that people think of reducing the interest on Rentes.' - -'Rentes,' said Châtelard quietly, 'they will be suppressed before -another twenty years have gone by; or, rather, some plan will be found -for dispossessing the _rentiers_ by degrees. A scheme to that effect is -already being studied.' - -Madame Mazelle heaved such a desperate sigh that one might have -imagined she was giving up the ghost. 'Oh, I hope we shall be dead by -then!' said she; 'I hope that we shan't have the grief of witnessing -such infamy! But our poor daughter will suffer by it, and that is an -additional reason for compelling her to make a good marriage.' - -But Châtelard pitilessly went on: 'Why, good marriages are no longer -possible, since the right of inheritance is about to disappear. That -is virtually resolved upon. In future each married couple will have to -work out its own happiness. And whether your daughter Louise marries a -_bourgeois'_ son or a workman's son, the capital of the newly-wedded -pair will soon be identical--so much love, if they are lucky enough to -love one another, and so much activity if they are intelligent enough -not to be idlers.' - -Deep silence fell, and one could hear the faint whirr of a warbler's -wings, as it flew about among the roses. - -'And so,' Mazelle, who was overwhelmed, ended by asking, 'that is the -advice you give us, Monsieur le Sous-Préfet? According to you, we can -accept that Lucien Bonnaire as our son-in-law, eh?' - -'Oh, _mon Dieu_, yes! The world will none the less continue peacefully -revolving. And as the two children are so fond of one another, it is -at least certain that you will make them happy.' - -Gourier had hitherto said nothing. He felt ill at ease at being called -upon to decide such a question--he, whose son had gone off to live -with Ma-Bleue, that wild girl of the rocks, whom he now received in -his highly respectable middle-class home. At last an avowal of his -embarrassment escaped him: 'That's true; the best thing after all is to -marry them. When their parents don't marry them the young people take -themselves off and get married as they fancy. Ah! in what times are we -living!' - -He raised his arms towards heaven, and Châtelard had to exercise all -his influence to prevent him from falling into black melancholy. -Gourier's old age--following on a somewhat dissolute life--was full -of stupor; he constantly fell asleep, at table, in the midst of -conversation, even whilst walking out of doors. With the resigned air -of a once terrible employer of labour, whom facts had vanquished, he -ended by saying: 'Well, what else can be expected? After us the deluge, -as many of our class now say. We are done for.' - -It was at this moment that Judge Gaume arrived, much behind his time. -Nowadays his legs swelled, and it was only with difficulty that he -could walk, helping himself along with a stick. He was nearly seventy, -and was awaiting his pension, full of secret disgust for that human -justice which he had administered during so many years, contenting -himself the while with strictly applying the written law, like a priest -who no longer believes, but is sustained solely by dogma. In his home, -however, the drama of love and betrayal which had wrecked his life had -pursued its course, stubbornly and pitilessly. The disaster, which had -begun with the suicide of his wife, had been completed by his daughter -Lucile, who had caused her husband, Captain Jollivet, to be killed in -a murderous duel by one of her lovers, with whom she had afterwards -eloped. The police were seeking her, and Gaume now lived alone with her -one child, André, a delicate, affectionate youth of sixteen, over whom -he watched with anxious affection. Sufficient misfortune had fallen, he -felt; avenging destiny, punishing some old unknown crime, must go no -further. Yet he still wondered to what good power, what future of true -justice and faithful love he might guide that youth in order that his -race might be renewed and at last win happiness. - -On being questioned by Mazelle respecting the advisability of a -marriage between Louise and Lucien Bonnaire, Judge Gaume immediately -exclaimed: 'Marry them, marry them--particularly if they feel for one -another such great love as to enter into contest with their parents and -to pass over all obstacles. Love alone decides happiness.' - -Then he regretted, like an avowal, that cry which the bitterness of -his whole life had wrung from him, for he was intent on preserving -during his last days his wonted mendacious rigidity of demeanour, his -austerity and coldness of countenance. 'Do not wait for Abbé Marle,' -he resumed. 'I met him just now, and he begged me to apologise to you. -He was hastening to the church for the holy vessels, in order to take -extreme unction to old Madame Jollivet, an aunt of my son-in-law's, who -is in the last pangs. Poor Abbé, in her he is losing one of his last -penitents; he had his eyes full of tears.' - -'Oh! the fact that the clergy is being swept away is the one good -feature of what is happening!' exclaimed Gourier, who had remained a -devourer of priests. 'The republic would still be ours if the clergy -had not tried to take it from us. It was they who urged the people on -to upset everything and become the masters.' - -But Châtelard remarked compassionately: 'Poor Abbé Marle! it grieves me -to see him in his empty church. You do quite right, Madame Mazelle, in -still sending him some bouquets for the Virgin.' - -Silence fell again, and the tragic shadow of the priest seemed to flit -by in the bright sunlight amidst the perfume of the roses. In Léonore -he had lost his dearest and most faithful parishioner. Madame Mazelle -doubtless remained to him, but she was not really a believer; all that -she sought in religion was something ornamental--a kind of certificate -that she was a right-minded _bourgeois_. And the Abbé was not ignorant -of his destiny--he would some day be found dead at his altar under the -remnants of his church, which threatened ruin, but which, for lack of -money, he could not repair. Neither at the sub-prefecture nor at the -town-hall was there any fund left for such work. He had appealed to the -faithful, and in response had with difficulty obtained a ridiculously -small sum of money. And now he was resigned to his fate; he awaited -the fall, still celebrating the offices as if he were unaware of the -threat of annihilation hanging above his head. His church was becoming -emptier and emptier, dying a little more each day, and he would die -also when the old structure cracked around him and fell crushing him -beneath the weight of the great crucifix, which still hung from the -wall. And they would have one and the same grave: the earth whither all -returns. - -As it happened Madame Mazelle was far too much upset by her personal -worries to take any interest at that moment in the dolorous fate of -Abbé Marle. If there should not be a prompt solution with respect to -the marriage, she feared that she might fall seriously ill--she who had -derived so many hours of nursing and petting from the malady without -a name with which she had embellished her existence. All her guests -having now arrived, she quitted her armchair to serve the tea, which -steamed in the cups of bright porcelain, whilst a sunray gilded the -little cakes lying in the crystal dishes. And she went on shaking her -big, placid head, for she was not yet convinced: 'You may say what you -like, my friends, but that marriage would really be the last blow, and -I cannot make up my mind to it.' - -'We will wait,' declared Mazelle; 'we will exhaust Louise's patience.' - -But all at once both husband and wife were thunderstruck, for Louise -herself stood before them among the sunlit roses at the entrance of -the arbour. They had fancied her in her room, on her couch, suffering -from that love-sickness which, according to Doctor Novarre, contentment -alone could cure. No doubt she had guessed that the others were -deciding her fate, and with her beautiful black hair just caught up in -a knot, wearing a dressing-gown with a pattern of little red flowers, -she had come down in all haste. Quivering with the passion that -animated her, she looked charming with her somewhat obliquely-set eyes -gleaming in her slender face. Not even grief could entirely extinguish -their gay sparkle. She had heard the last words spoken by her parents. -'Ah, mamma! ah, papa! what was that you were saying?' she cried. 'Do -you imagine that some merely childish caprice is in question? I've told -you already, and I tell you again, I wish Lucien to be my husband, and -so he shall!' - -Although half-conquered by the sudden apparition of his daughter, -Mazelle still tried to struggle against the inevitable. 'But just -think of it, you unhappy child! Our fortune, which you were to have -inherited, is already in jeopardy, so it is quite possible that one of -these days you will find yourself without a penny,' he said. - -'Just understand the situation,' remarked Madame Mazelle in her turn. -'With our money, even though it is in danger, you might still make a -sensible marriage.' - -Then Louise exploded with superb, joyous vehemence, 'Your money! I do -not care a pin for it! You can keep it! If you were to give it me -Lucien would no longer take me as his wife. Money, indeed! what should -I do with it? Money! of what use is it? It does not help one to love -and be happy. Lucien will earn my bread for me, and I'll earn it too if -necessary. It will be delightful.' - -She cried these things aloud with such strength of youth and hope that -the Mazelles, fearing for her reason, were anxious to quiet her by at -last yielding to her desires. Besides, they were not people to continue -battling; they wished to end their days in peace. As for Sub-Prefect -Châtelard, Mayor Gourier, and Judge Gaume, whilst drinking their tea -they smiled with some embarrassment, for they felt the girl's free love -sweeping them away like bits of straw. One must needs consent to what -one cannot prevent. - -It was Châtelard who summed up everything in his amiable, bantering -way, the irony of which was scarcely perceptible. 'Our friend Gourier -is right--we are done for, since it is our children who make the laws -now.' - -The marriage of Lucien Bonnaire and Louise Mazelle took place a month -later. Châtelard for his personal amusement prevailed on his friend -Gourier to give a grand ball at the town-hall on the wedding night, as -if by way of honouring their friends the Mazelles. At heart he thought -it a good joke to make the _bourgeoisie_ of Beauclair dance at this -wedding, which became a symbol of the multitude's accession to power. -They would dance on the ruins of authority in that town-hall which -was gradually becoming the real common-house, where the mayor was no -longer anything but a link between the various social groups. The hall -was most luxuriously decorated, and there was music and singing as at -the wedding of Nanet and Nise. And acclamations once more arose at the -sight of the bridal pair, Lucien, so strong and sturdy, followed by all -his mates of La Crêcherie, and Louise, so slim and passionate, followed -by all the fine society of the town, whose presence had been desired -by her parents as a kind of supreme protest. Only it came to pass that -the fine folk were swamped by the multitude, won over to the rush of -delight, carried away and conquered to such a point that a great many -more marriages between the lads and girls of the different classes -ensued. Once more, then, love triumphed, all-powerful love which -inflames the living universe, and bears it onward to its happy destiny. - -Youth flowered on all sides, other alliances were concluded, couples -which everything seemed to separate set out together for the future -city of happiness. The old trading class of Beauclair, now on the -point of disappearing, gave its daughters and sons to the artisans -of La Crêcherie and the peasants of Les Combettes. The Laboques set -the example by allowing their son Auguste to marry Marthe Bourron, -and their daughter Eulalie to marry Arsène Lenfant. They had ceased -struggling for some years already, for they realised that the trade -of old times, the useless cogwheel which had consumed so much energy -and wealth, was vanquished and dying. At the outset they had been -obliged to allow their shop of the Rue de Brias to be turned into a -mere _dépôt_ of the articles manufactured at La Crêcherie and the other -syndicated factories. Then, taking a further step, they had consented -to close the shop, which had been merged into the general stores, -where Luc's indulgence had procured them an inspectorship by way of -occupation. And now old age had come, and they lived in retirement, -full of bitterness, and scared by the sight of that new world which -evinced none of their own passion for lucre. The new generations had -grown up for other forms of activity and delight than moneymaking. And -thus their children, Auguste and Eulalie, yielding to love, the great -artisan of harmony and peace, married as they pleased, encountering -no obstacle on their parents' side save the covert disapproval of old -folk who regret the past. It was arranged that the two weddings should -be celebrated on the same day at Les Combettes, now a large township, -a very suburb of Beauclair, with large bright buildings redolent of -the inexhaustible wealth of the earth. And the weddings took place at -harvest-time--indeed, on the very last day of the harvesting, when huge -ricks already arose upon every side over the great golden plain. - -Feuillat, the former farmer of La Guerdache, had already married his -son Léon to Eugénie, daughter of Yvonnot, the assessor, whom he had -formerly reconciled with Feuillat, the mayor--that reconciliation -whence had sprung the good agreement of all the inhabitants of -the place, and that impulse to combine together which had made the -wretched village, consumed by hatred, a fraternal and flourishing town. -Nowadays Feuillat, who was very aged, had become like the patriarch -of that agricultural society, for it was he who had dreamt of it, -secretly sought to establish it, in former days, when combating the -deadly tenant-farming system, and foreseeing what incalculable wealth -the tillers of the soil might draw from it when they should agree -together to love it like men of science and method. A true love for -that soil which for centuries had been exhausting his ancestors, seemed -to have sufficed to enlighten that simple farmer, who originally -had been a hard-headed and rapacious man like all of his class. He -had perceived in what direction lay salvation, peace among all the -peasants, a combination of efforts, the earth becoming once more -the sole mother, ploughed, sown, and cropped by one family. And he -had beheld the fulfilment of his dream, he had seen his neighbours' -fields joined together, the farm of La Guerdache merged into the -parish of Les Combettes, other smaller villages joined thereto, a vast -estate created, and set on the march for the conquest, by successive -annexation, of the whole of the vast plain of La Roumagne. Feuillat, -who had remained the soul of the association, formed with Lenfant -and Yvonnot, its founders, a kind of 'Conseil des Anciens,' who were -consulted on all things, and whose advice was always found profitable. - -Thus, when the wedding of Lenfant's son Arsène with Eulalie Laboque was -decided upon, and the latter's brother Auguste determined to celebrate -his marriage with Marthe Bourron at the same time, it occurred to -Feuillat, whose idea was accepted and acclaimed by all, to organise -a great _fête_ which should be like the festival of the pacification -and triumph of Les Combettes. They would drink to fraternity between -the peasant and the industrial worker, formerly so bitterly opposed -to one another, but whose alliance alone could establish social -wealth and peace. They would drink also to the end of all antagonism, -to the disappearance of that barbarous thing called trade which had -perpetuated a hateful struggle between the dealer who sold a tool, the -peasant who made corn grow, and the baker who sold bread, at a price -increased by the thefts of a number of intermediaries. And what better -day could be chosen to celebrate the reconciliation than that when the -enemies of former days, the castes which had seemed bent on devouring -and destroying one another, ended by exchanging their lads and girls, -consenting to marriages which would hasten the advent of the future! -Thus it was decided that the _fête_ should take place in a large field -near the town, a field where lofty ricks, golden under the bright sun, -arose like the symmetrically disposed columns of some gigantic temple. -The colonnade stretched indeed to the very horizon; other ricks and -other ricks arose, proclaiming the inexhaustible fruitfulness of the -soil. And it was there that they sang, that they danced, amidst the -pleasant odour of the ripe corn, amidst the great fertile plain, whence -the work of man, now at last reconciled, drew bread enough for the -happiness of all. - -The Laboques brought in their train all the former tradesmen of -Beauclair, whilst the Bourrons brought the whole of La Crêcherie. The -Lenfants were there, at home, and never yet had folk fraternised so -fully, the groups fast mingling and uniting in one sole family. The -Laboques, no doubt, remained grave and somewhat embarrassed, but the -Lenfants made merry with all their hearts, whilst the great sight of -all was Babette Bourron, whose everlasting good humour, her certainty, -even amidst the greatest worries, that things would turn out well at -last, now proved triumphant. She personified hope, marching radiant -behind the two bridal couples; and when these arrived--Marthe Bourron -on the arm of Auguste Laboque, Eulalie Laboque on the arm of Arsène -Lenfant--they brought with them such a blaze of youth and strength and -delight, that endless acclamations rolled from one to the other end of -the stubbles. The onlookers called to them affectionately, they were -loved, they were praised because they indeed personified sovereign -and victorious love, that love which had already drawn all those folk -together, by giving them those overflowing harvests amidst which they -would henceforth swarm like a free and united people, ignorant alike of -hatred and of want. - -That same day other marriages were decided upon, as had already -happened at the wedding of Lucien Bonnaire and Louise Mazelle. Madame -Mitaine, the former bakeress, who had remained for everybody the -'beautiful Madame Mitaine,' in spite of her sixty-five years, kissed -Olympe Lenfant, sister to one of the bridegrooms, and told her that -she would be happy to call her 'daughter,' for her son Évariste had -confessed that he adored her. The beautiful bakeress's husband had -been dead for ten years, and her establishment had been merged into -the general stores of La Crêcherie, as was the case with most of the -retail businesses of the town. She lived like a retired worker with -her son Évariste, both very proud of the fact that Luc had given -them the charge of the electrical kneading appliances, which yielded -an abundance of white light bread. Whilst Évariste in his turn was -bestowing a betrothal kiss on Olympe, who had turned pink with -pleasure, Madame Mitaine suddenly recognised in a thin, dark little -woman seated beside a rick, her old neighbour, Madame Dacheux, the -butcher's wife. She thereupon went and sat down beside her. 'Must it -not all finish in weddings,' she asked gaily, 'since all these young -folk were ever playing together?' - -Madame Dacheux, however, remained silent and gloomy. She also had -lost her husband, who had died from the effects of a badly aimed blow -with his chopper, which had struck off his right hand. According to -some folk, clumsiness had nothing to do with it, the butcher having -voluntarily cut off his hand in a fit of furious anger, rather than -sign a transfer of his shop to La Crêcherie. Decent occurrences, and -the idea that holy meat, the meat of the wealthy, was now being placed -within the reach of all and appearing at the tables of the poorest, -must have maddened that violent, reactionary, and tyrannical man. He -had died from the effects of gangrene improperly treated, leaving his -wife in a state of terror from the oaths which he had heaped upon her -during his final agony. - -'And your Julienne, how is she?' Madame Mitaine inquired in her amiable -way. 'I met her the other day. She looked superb.' - -The butcher's widow was at last obliged to answer. Pointing to a couple -figuring in one of the quadrille sets, she said: 'She's dancing yonder. -I'm watching her.' - -Julienne indeed was dancing on the arm of a tall, good-looking fellow, -Louis Fauchard, the son of the former drawer. Sturdy of build, white of -skin, her whole face beaming with health, Julienne evidently enjoyed -the embrace of that vigorous yet gentle-looking youth, who was one of -the best smiths of La Crêcherie. - -'Oh! does that mean another marriage, then?' asked Madame Mitaine, -laughing. - -But Madame Dacheux shuddered and protested: 'Oh! no, no! How can you -say such a thing? You know what my husband's ideas were. He would rise -from his tomb if I let our daughter marry that workman, the son of that -wretched Mélanie, who was always trying to get a bit of soup-beef on -credit, and whom he drove out of our shop so often because she never -paid!' - -In a low and tremulous voice the butcher's widow went on to relate what -a torturing life she led. Her husband appeared to her at night-time. -Although he was dead he still made her bow beneath his despotic -authority, tormenting her, upbraiding her, frightening her with -devilish threats in her dreams. The poor, scared, insignificant woman -was so unlucky that even widowhood had not brought her peace. - -'If I were to let Julienne marry contrary to his wishes,' she -concluded, 'he would certainly come back every night to beat me!' - -She was shedding tears now, and Madame Mitaine strove to comfort her, -assuring her that she would soon get rid of her nightmares if she would -only set a little happiness around her. Just then, as it happened, -Mélanie, the ever-complaining Madame Fauchard, whom for years one had -seen perpetually running about to procure the four quarts of wine -which her husband required for his shift, drew near with a hesitating -step. She no longer suffered from want. She occupied one of the -bright little houses of La Crêcherie with Fauchard, who, infirm and -stupefied, had now ceased all work. Lodging with her, moreover, was her -brother Fortuné, now forty-five years of age, and already an old man, -half-blind, and deaf, owing to the brutish, mechanical, uniform toil -to which he had been condemned at the Abyss from his fifteenth year -onward. Thus, in spite of the comforts which La Fauchard owed to the -new pension and mutual relief system, she had remained a complaining -creature, a wretched waif of the past, with two old children on her -hands. Therein lay a lesson, an example of the shame and grief which -the wage-system had brought with it. - -'Have you seen my men?' she asked Madame Mitaine, referring to her -husband and brother. 'I lost them in the crowd. Oh! there they are!' - -With halting gait, arm-in-arm, by way of propping up each other, the -brothers-in-law passed by--Fauchard, wrecked and done for, suggesting -some ghost of the painful toil of the past; and Fortuné, looking less -aged but quite as downcast, stricken seemingly with imbecility. -Through all the sturdy crowd, overflowing with new life and hope -amidst the sweet-smelling ricks, in which was piled the corn of a -whole community, the two unfortunate men strolled hither and thither, -freely displaying their decrepitude, understanding nothing of what -went on around them, and not even acknowledging the salutations of -acquaintances. - -'Leave them in the sunshine--it does them good,' resumed Madame -Mitaine, addressing La Fauchard. 'Your son is sturdy and gay enough!' - -'That's true; Louis has the best of health,' the other replied. 'The -sons are not much like the fathers, now that the times have changed. -Just see how he dances! He will never know cold and hunger.' - -Thereupon Madame Mitaine, in her good-natured way, resolved to promote -the happiness of the young couple who were smiling at each other so -lovingly whilst they danced before her. She brought the two mothers, -Madame Fauchard and Madame Dacheux, together, and made them sit down -side by side, and then she moved the butcher's widow and convinced her -that she ought to consent to her daughter's marriage. It was solitude -that made the poor old creature suffer; she needed grandchildren to -climb up on her knees and put all troublesome phantoms to flight. - -'Ah, _mon Dieu_!' she ended by exclaiming, 'I'm agreeable all the -same, on condition that I'm not left alone. I myself never said no to -anybody. It was _he_ who wouldn't have it. But if you all wish it, and -promise to defend me, then do, do as you like.' - -When Louis and Julienne learnt that their mothers consented to their -wedding, they hastened to them and fell in their arms with tears and -laughter. And thus amidst the general joy fresh joy was born. - -'How could you think of parting these young people?' Madame Mitaine -repeated; 'they seem to have grown up one for the other. I've given my -Évariste to Olympe Lenfant, whom I remember as quite a little girl, -when she used to come to my shop and my boy gave her cakes. It's the -same with Louis Fauchard. How many times have I not seen him prowling -near your shop, Madame Dacheux, and playing with your Julienne! The -Laboques, the Bourrons, the Lenfants and the Yvonnots, whose marriages -are now being celebrated, why, they all grew up together, at the very -time when their parents were attacking one another, and now you see -their harvest time has come.' - -She laughed yet more loudly as she recalled the past, while an -expression of infinite kindness spread over her face. And joy was -rising around her. People came to say that other betrothals had just -taken place--that of Sébastien Bourron with Agathe Fauchard, and -that of Nicolas Yvonnot with Zoé Bonnaire. Love, sovereign love, -was incessantly perfecting the reconciliation, blending all classes -together. And the _fête_ lasted until night-time, until the stars came -out, whilst love thus triumphed, bringing heart nearer to heart and -merging one into another, amidst the dances and songs of those joyous -people marching towards future unity and harmony. - -Amidst the growing fraternity, however, there was one man, one of the -old ones, Master-smelter Morfain, who remained apart from all the rest, -mute and wild, unable and unwilling to understand. He still dwelt, like -one of the prehistoric Vulcans, in the rocky cavity near the smeltery -under his charge, and now he was quite alone there, like a _solitaire_ -who had broken off all intercourse with the rising generations. When -his daughter Ma-Bleue had gone off to realise her dream of love with -Achille Gourier, the Prince Charming of her blue nights, Morfain had -already felt that the new times were robbing him of the best part of -himself. Then another love affair had carried away his son Petit-Da, -that tall young fellow who had become so passionately enamoured of -Honorine, a quick, alert little brunette, daughter of Caffiaux, the -grocer and taverner. Morfain had at first peremptorily refused to -consent to their marriage, full of contempt as he was for that shady -family of poisoners, the Caffiaux, who on their side returned his -disdain with interest, and in their vanity were by no means inclined -to allow their daughter to marry a worker. Nevertheless, Caffiaux was -the first to give way, for he was of a supple and crafty nature. After -closing his tavern he had secured a very comfortable post as chief -guardian at the general stores of La Crêcherie, and the nasty stories -once told of him were being forgotten; whilst for his part he feigned -too much devotion to the principles of solidarity to cling obstinately -to a decision which might have harmed him. Thus Petit-Da, carried away -by his passion, took no further notice of his father's opposition, and -the result was that a terrible quarrel, a frightful rupture, between -the two men ensued. From that time forward the master-smelter no longer -spoke, save to direct the furnace work, but shut himself up in his -cavern like some fierce and motionless spectre of the dead ages. - -Though years and years went by Morfain did not appear to age. He was -always the same old-time conqueror of fire, a colossus with a huge -head, a nose like an eagle's beak, and flaming eyes set between cheeks -which a flow of lava seemed to have ravaged. His twisted lips, now -seldom parted, retained their tawny redness suggestive of burns. And -it seemed as if no human considerations would again weigh with him in -the depths of the implacable solitude in which he had shut himself -on perceiving that his daughter and his son had joined the party of -to-morrow. Ma-Bleue had presented Achille with a sweet little girl, -Léonie, who was growing up all grace and tenderness. And Petit-Da's -wife, Honorine, had given birth to a strong and charming boy, Raymond, -now an intelligent young man who would soon be old enough to marry. But -the children's grandfather did not soften--he repulsed them, shrank -even from seeing them. - -On the other hand, however, amidst the collapse of his affection for -his kin, the species of paternal passion which he had always evinced -for his furnace seemed to increase. That growling monster ever afire, -whose flaming digestion he controlled both day and night, was seemingly -regarded by him as some child. The slightest disturbance in its work -threw him into anguish; he spent sleepless nights in watching over the -working of the twyers, displaying all the devotion of a young lover -amidst the embers whose heat his skin no longer feared. Luc, rendered -anxious by Morfain's great age, had spoken of pensioning him off, -but renounced the idea at the sight of the quivering rebellion, the -inconsolable grief which was displayed by that hero of toil, who was -so proud of having exhausted, consumed his muscles in pursuing the -conquest of fire. However, the hour for retirement would come forcibly -from the inevitable march of progress, and Luc indulgently decided to -wait awhile. - -Morfain had already felt that he was threatened. He was aware of the -researches which Jordan was making with the view of replacing the -old, slow, barbarous smeltery by batteries of electrical furnaces. -The idea that one might extinguish and demolish the giant pile which -flamed during seven and eight years at a stretch, quite distracted the -master-smelter, and he became seriously alarmed when Jordan effected -a first improvement by burning coal at the mouth of the pit from -which it was extracted, and bringing electricity without loss to La -Crêcherie by cable. However, as the cost price still remained too high -for electricity to be employed for smelting ore, Morfain was able to -rejoice over the futility of Jordan's victory. During the ensuing ten -years each fresh defeat which fell on Jordan delighted him. He indulged -in covert irony, feeling convinced that fire would never suffer itself -to be conquered by that strange new power, that mysterious thunder, -whose flashes were not even visible. He longed for his master's -defeat, the annihilation of the new appliances which were ever being -constructed and improved. But all at once the position became very -threatening, a rumour spread that Jordan had at last completed his -great work, having discovered a means of transforming calorical energy -direct into electrical energy, without the help of mechanical energy -being required. That is, the steam engine, that cumbersome and costly -intermediary, was suppressed. And in thiswise the problem was solved, -the cost of electricity would be lowered by one-half, and it would -be possible to employ it for the smelting of ore. A first battery of -electrical furnaces was indeed already being fitted up, and Morfain, -full of despair, prowled fiercely around his blast-furnace, as if -anxious to defend it. - -Luc did not immediately give orders for its demolition. He wished first -of all to make some conclusive experiments with the battery. Thus, -during a period of six months, the work went on in both forms, and the -old smelter spent some abominable days, for he now realised that the -well-loved monster in his charge was condemned. He saw it forsaken now, -nobody came up the hill to see it, whereas the inquisitive thronged -around those electrical furnaces below, which occupied such little -space, and did their work, it was said, so well and so speedily. -Morfain, for his part, full of rancour, never went down to see them, -but spoke of them disdainfully as of toys for children. Was it possible -that the ancient method of smelting which had given man the empire -of the world could be dethroned? No, no, one would have to revert -to those giant furnaces which had burnt for centuries without ever -being extinguished! And, alone with the few men under his orders, who -remained silent like himself, Morfain looked down contemptuously on the -shed in which the electrical furnaces were working, and still felt -happy at night-time, when he was able to set the horizon all aglow with -a 'run' of dazzling metal. - -But the day at last came when Luc passed sentence on the blast-furnace, -whose work was now shown to be both slower and more costly than the -other. Thus it was decided that following upon a final run it should -be allowed to go out, after which it might be demolished. Morfain, -on being warned of this, did not answer, but remained impassive, his -bronze countenance revealing nothing of the tempest in his soul. His -calmness frightened people; Ma-Bleue came up to see him, accompanied -by her daughter Léonie, and Petit-Da, moved by the same affectionate -impulse, brought his son Raymond. For a moment the family found itself -assembled, as in former days, in the rocky hillside cavern, and the old -man allowed himself to be kissed and caressed, without repulsing his -grandchildren as he had usually done. Still he did not return their -caresses, but seemed far away, like one who belonged to a past period, -one in whom no human feeling was left. It was a cold and gloomy autumn -day, and the crapelike veil of the early twilight was falling from a -livid sky over the dark earth. At last Morfain arose and broke the -silence, saying, 'Well, they are waiting for me, there is yet another -run.' - -It was the last. They all followed him to the blast-furnace. The men -under his orders were present, already shadowy in the increasing gloom, -and once again, for the last time, the usual work was accomplished. A -bar was thrust into the plug of refractory clay, the hole was enlarged, -and finally the tumultuous flood of fusing metal poured forth, a stream -of flames rolling along the channels in the sand and filling the moulds -with blazing pools. And once again, too, from those tracks and fields -of fire arose a harvest of sparks, blue sparks of delicate ethereality, -and golden fusees delightfully refined, a florescence of cornflowers, -as it were, amidst golden ears of wheat. And a blinding glow burst -on the mournful twilight, illumining the furnace, the neighbouring -buildings, the distant roofs of Beauclair, and the whole of the great -horizon. Then everything disappeared, deep night reigned all around; -the end had come, the furnace's life was over. - -Morfain, who without a word had stood looking at it all, remained there -in the gloom motionless like one of the neighbouring rocks which the -shades of night again enveloped. - -'Father,' said Ma-Bleue gently, 'now that there is no more work to be -done here, you must come down to us. Your room has long been ready for -you.' - -And Petit-Da in his turn exclaimed: 'Father, you've certainly got to -rest now. There is a room for you in my place too. You must let each -of us have you in turn, you must live sometimes with one and sometimes -with the other.' - -But the old master-smelter did not immediately answer. A great sigh -made his breast heave dolorously. At last he said: 'That's it, I'll go -down, I'll have a look. But you can go away now.' - -For another fifteen days it was impossible to induce Morfain to quit -the furnace. He watched it cooling, as one watches beside a death-bed. -Every evening he felt it in order to make sure that it was not quite -dead. And as long as he found a little warmth remaining, he lingered -obstinately beside it as if it were a friend whose remains it would -be wrong to abandon. But at last the demolishers arrived, and then -one morning the grand old vanquished man was seen to descend from his -cavern to La Crêcherie, where he repaired with a still firm step to -the large glazed shed in which the battery of electrical furnaces was -working. - -As it happened, both Jordan and Luc were there with Petit-Da, whom -they had appointed to direct the smelting in conjunction with his son -Raymond, the latter already being a good electrician. The work was -being brought to greater precision day by day; and Jordan scarcely -quitted the shed, eager as he was to perfect the new method which had -cost him so many years of study and experiment. - -'Ah! Morfain, my old friend!' he exclaimed joyously. 'So you've become -sensible!' - -The other's face, the colour of old iron, remained impassive, and he -contented himself with replying: 'Yes, Monsieur Jordan, I wanted to see -your machine.' - -Luc, however, scrutinised him rather anxiously. He had given orders -to have him watched, for he had learnt that he had been found leaning -over the mouth of the blast furnace, when the latter was still full -of glowing embers, like a man preparing to fling himself into that -frightful hell. One of the smelters under his orders, however, had -saved him from that death which he had contemplated, perchance as a -last gift of his scorched frame to the monster, as though indeed he set -his pride in dying by fire, after loving and serving it so faithfully -for more than half a century. - -'It is pleasant to find you still inquisitive at your age, my good -Morfain,' said Luc, without taking his eyes from him. 'Now, just -examine these toys.' - -The battery stretched out before them, showing ten furnaces, ten cubes -of red brick-work over six feet high and nearly five feet long. And -above them one only saw the powerful electrodes, thick cylinders of -carbon, to which the electric cables were attached. The operations -were very simple. An endless screw, worked by a switch, served the -ten furnaces, bringing the ore and discharging it into them. A second -switch set up the current, the arc whose extraordinary temperature of -two thousand degrees sufficed to melt almost four hundredweight of -metal in five minutes. And it was only necessary to turn a third switch -for the platinum door of each oven to rise up and for a kind of rolling -way, lined with fine sand, to start off on the march and receive the -ten pigs, each of four hundredweight, and carry them into the cool air -outside. - -'Well, my good Morfain,' asked Jordan with the gaiety of a happy child, -'what do you think of it?' - -Then he told him of the output. Those toys, each yielding four -hundredweight of metal every five minutes, could turn out altogether -a total of two hundred and forty tons daily, if they were allowed -to work ten hours at a stretch. This was a prodigious output when -one considered that the old blast-furnace, burning day and night -alike, could not supply one-third of the quantity. As a matter of -fact the electrical furnaces were seldom kept working more than three -or four hours, and the advantage was that they could be lighted and -extinguished as one pleased, in accordance with one's needs, whatever -quantity of raw material that was required being immediately obtained. -And how easily they worked, and what cleanliness and simplicity there -was! As the electrodes themselves supplied the carbon necessary for -the carburisation of the ore, there was little dust. The gases alone -escaped, and the quantity of slag was so small that a daily cleaning -sufficed to get rid of it. There was no longer any need of a barbarous -colossus whose digestion caused disquietude, nor of any of the numerous -and cumbersome appendages, the purifiers, the heaters, the blast -machinery, and the constant current of water, with which it had been -necessary to surround it. There was no longer any fear of stoppages -or cooling down, nor any talk of demolishing or emptying the monster -whilst still ablaze, because a twyer simply went wrong. Loaders -watching at the mouth, and smelters piercing the plug and broiling in -the flames of the 'runs' were no longer required to be on the alert, -following one another incessantly with day and night shifts. The -battery of the ten electrical furnaces, extending over a surface under -fifty feet in length and some sixteen feet in width, was at its ease in -the large, bright, glazed shed which sheltered it. And three children -would have sufficed to set everything going, one at the switch of the -endless screw, a second at the switch of the electrodes, and a third at -that of the rolling way. - -'What do you think of it? What do you think of it, my good Morfain?' -repeated Jordan triumphantly. - -The old master-smelter still looked at the furnaces without moving or -speaking. Night was already at hand, shadows were filling the shed, and -the working of the battery, with its gentle mechanical regularity, was -quite impressive. Cold and dim, the ten furnaces seemed to slumber, -whilst the little cars of ore, moved by the endless screw, were emptied -one by one. Then every five minutes the platinum doors opened, the ten -white jets of the ten 'runs' blazed upon the gloom, and the ten pigs, -flowery with cornflowers amidst ears of wheat, slowly and continuously -journeyed off on the rolling way. - -However, Petit-Da, who hitherto had remained silent, wished to give -some explanations, and pointing to the thick cable which, descending -from the rafters, brought the current to the furnaces, he said, 'You -see, father, the electricity comes along that cable, and such is its -force that if the wires were severed everything would be blown up!' - -Luc, whom Morfain's calmness had reassured, began to laugh. 'Don't say -that,' he exclaimed, 'you would frighten our young people. Nothing -would be blown up. Only the imprudent man who touched the wires would -be in danger. Besides, the cable is a strong one.' - -'Yes, that's true,' Petit-Da resumed; 'a strong wrist would be needed -to break it.' - -Morfain, still impassive, drew near. To reach the cable he simply had -to raise his hands. However, for a moment longer he remained there -motionless, nothing on his scorched face revealing what his thoughts -might be. But all at once such a flame shot from his eyes that Luc -again felt anxious, as if with a vague presentiment of a catastrophe. - -'A strong wrist, you say?' Morfain at last exclaimed, making up his -mind to speak. 'Just let us see, my lad.' - -And before the others had time to intervene he caught hold of the cable -with his hands, hardened by fire and as strong as iron pincers. And he -bent the cable and broke it, even as an irritated giant might break -the string of some child's toy. And lightning came, the wires met, and -a mighty dazzling flash burst forth. Then the whole shed was plunged -into darkness, amidst which one heard nought but the fall of that tall, -lightning-stricken old man, who dropped, all of a piece, like an oak -felled in the forest. - -Lanterns had to be fetched. Jordan and Luc, utterly distracted, could -only pronounce Morfain to be dead, whilst Petit-Da shrieked aloud -and wept. Stretched upon his back, the old smelter did not appear to -have suffered. He lay there like some colossal figure of old iron. -However, his garments were smouldering, and the fire had to be put out. -Doubtless he had been unwilling to survive the well-loved monster, -that blast-furnace of which he had been the last fervent worshipper. -With him had finished the first battle: man, the subduer of fire, the -conqueror of metals, bending beneath the slavery of dolorous toil, and -so proud of that long and overwhelming labour--the labour of humanity -marching towards future happiness--as to make it a title of nobility. -He had even shrunk from knowing that new times were born, bringing to -each by the victory of a just apportionment of work, a little rest, a -little gaiety, a little happy enjoyment, such as hitherto only a few -privileged beings had tasted, deriving it from the iniquitous suffering -of the greater number. And he had fallen like some fierce, obstinate -hero of the ancient and terrible _corvée_, like a Vulcan chained to -his forge, a blind enemy of all that would have freed him, setting -his glory in his servitude, and regarding the possible diminution of -suffering and effort as mere downfall. And the force of the new age, -the lightning which he had come to deny and insult, had annihilated -him. And now he slept. - -Three years later three more marriages took place, still further -blending the classes together and tightening the bonds of that -fraternal and peaceful people which was ever and ever spreading. -Hilaire Froment, the eldest son of Luc and Josine, a strong young man -already twenty-six, espoused Colette, the daughter of Nanet and Nise, a -delightful little blonde in all the flowery springtide of her eighteen -summers. And the blood of the Delaveaus became calmer on mingling with -that of the Froments and Josine, the erstwhile wretched wanderer, who -had been picked up, half dead of starvation, almost on the threshold of -the Abyss. Then yet another Froment, Thérèse, the third-born, a tall, -gay, good-looking girl, became when seventeen the wife of Raymond, -son of Petit-Da and Honorine Caffiaux, her senior by two years. And -this time the blood of the Froments was allied with that of those epic -toilers the Morfains and that of the Caffiaux, the representatives of -the old trade system, which the advent of La Crêcherie had swept away. -Finally Léonie, the amiable daughter of Achille Gourier and Ma-Bleue, -married one of Bonnaire's sons, who was twenty, like herself. This was -Séverin, Lucien's younger brother; and in this marriage the expiring -_bourgeoisie_ became united to the people, the resigned and mighty -toilers of the dead ages, and the revolutionary workers who were -attaining to freedom. - -Great _fêtes_ were given, for the happy descendants of Luc and Josine -were about to increase and multiply, helping to people the new city -which Luc had founded in order that Josine and all others might be -saved from iniquitous want. The torrent of Love was flowing forth, life -was incessantly spreading, doubling the harvests, ever creating more -and more men for increase of truth and increase of justice. Love the -victorious, young and gay, bore couples, and families, and the whole -town towards final harmony and happiness. Each marriage led to the -building of another little house among the greenery; and the march of -those houses never ceased. Old Beauclair had long since been invaded -and swept away. The ancient leprous district, the filthy hovels where -labour had agonised for centuries, had been razed to the ground, over -which now stretched broad roads planted with trees and edged with -smiling dwellings. Even the _bourgeois_ quarter of Beauclair was -threatened; the piercing of new streets enabled one to enlarge and -turn to other uses the old public edifices such as the sub-prefecture, -the law courts, and the prison. The ancient church alone remained, -cracking and crumbling in the centre of a small deserted square, which -suggested a field of nettles and brambles. On all sides the old-time -houses where people had lived cooped up in flats, had given place to -healthier dwellings scattered through the huge garden, which Beauclair -was becoming, each of them gay with light and with streaming water. And -the city was founded, a very great and very glorious city, whose sunlit -avenues ever stretched away, overflowing already into the neighbouring -fields of the fertile Roumagne. - - - -III. - - -Ten more years went by, and love which had united so many couples, -victorious and fruitful love, brought each household a florescence -of children, a new growth going towards the future. At each fresh -generation a little more truth, justice, and peace would spread and -reign throughout the world. - -Luc, who was already sixty-five years old, evinced, with increasing -age, a livelier, a keener affection for children. Now that he saw -his long-dreamt-of city in being, his mind went out to the rising -generations. To them he gave all his time with the thought that the -future rested with them. Ripe men, who have long lived amidst certain -beliefs and habits, and who perchance are chained to the past by -atavism, cannot be altered; whereas children may be influenced, freed -from false ideas, helped to grow and progress, in accordance with the -natural inclination towards evolution which is within them. - -Thus, during the visits which on two mornings every week Luc continued -to pay to his work, he devoted most of his attention and time to the -schools and the _crèches_ where the very little ones were kept. He -began by inspecting them before proceeding to the workshops and the -stores, and as he changed his visiting days every week, he generally -took all the turbulent young people by surprise. - -One Tuesday, a delightful morning in spring, he set out for the schools -at about eight o'clock. The sunrays were scattering golden rain amidst -the young greenery, and as Luc walked slowly down one of the avenues -past the house where the Boisgelins resided, he heard a well-loved -voice calling him. It was that of Suzanne, who, having seen him -passing, had come to the garden-gate. 'Oh! pray come in for a moment, -my friend,' said she. 'The poor man has another attack, and I feel very -anxious.' - -She was speaking of Boisgelin, her husband. As his idleness made him -feel ill at ease in that busy hive, he had at one time tried to work, -and Luc, at Suzanne's request, had given him a kind of inspectorship -at the general stores. But the man who has never done anything, who -has been an idler from birth, lacks will-power, and can no longer bend -to rule or method. Thus Boisgelin soon found that he was incapable of -following any continuous occupation. His mind fled, his limbs ceased to -obey him, he became sleepy, overwhelmed. He suffered from his impotence -and gradually relapsed into the emptiness of his former life, a -succession of idle days, all spent in the most futile fashion. As there -was no longer any round of pleasure and luxury to daze him he sank into -increasing boredom, from which he could not be roused. He was spending -his last years in a state of stupor, like a man who had fallen from -another planet, amazed at the unexpected, extraordinary things which -took place around him. - -'Does he have any violent fits?' Luc inquired of Suzanne. - -'Oh, no!' she replied. 'He simply remains very sombre and suspicious; -but my anxiety comes from his insane fancies having taken hold of him -again.' - -It seemed indeed that Boisgelin's mind had been weakened by the idle -life he led in that city of activity and work. From dawn till dusk -he was to be seen wandering, like a pale, scared phantom, about the -bustling streets, the buzzing schools, and the resounding workshops. -He alone did nothing, whereas all the others busied themselves, -overflowing with the delight and health which come from action. And, by -degrees, as he found that he himself was the only one who did not work -amidst that nation of workers, the insane idea seized upon him that he -was the king, the master, and that this nation was a nation of slaves, -working solely for his benefit, amassing incalculable wealth, which he -would dispose of as he pleased for his sole enjoyment. Although olden -society was crumbling to pieces, the capitalist idea had survived in -him, and he remained the mad capitalist, the god-capitalist, who, -possessing all the capital of the earth, had made all other men his -slaves, the wretched artisans of his own egotistical happiness. - -Luc found Boisgelin on the threshold of the house, dressed with all the -care that he still evinced as regards his personal appearance. Even at -seventy years of age he remained a vain-looking coxcomb, always well -groomed, freshly shaved, and wearing that distinctive mark of conceit, -a single eyeglass. His wavering glance and weak mouth alone revealed -the collapse of his mind. At that moment he was about to go out, and a -light cane was in his hand, and a shiny hat was tilted over his ear. - -'What, already up! Already out and about!' exclaimed Luc, affecting a -good-natured manner. - -'Oh, it's necessary, my dear fellow,' replied Boisgelin, after giving -him a suspicious glance. 'Everybody deceives me. How can I sleep in -peace with all those millions which my money brings me in, and which -this nation of workmen earns for me every day? I am obliged to see to -things, for otherwise there would be a leakage of hundreds of thousands -of francs every hour.' - -Suzanne made a sign of despair, then addressing Luc she said: 'I was -advising him not to go out to-day. What is the use of worrying like -that.' - -But her husband silenced her: 'It isn't merely to-day's money that -worries me, there are all the sums piled up already--those milliards -which fresh millions increase every evening. I quite lose myself among -them; I no longer know how to live in the midst of such a colossal -fortune. It is necessary that I should invest it, manage it, watch -over it, in order to save myself from being robbed--is that not so? -And, oh! it's hard work, terribly hard work, and makes me absolutely -wretched--more wretched even than the poor who have neither fire nor -bread.' - -His voice had begun to tremble dolorously, and big tears rolled down -his cheeks. He looked a pitiable object, and, although he generally -annoyed Luc, who regarded him as an anomaly in that industrious city, -the other was now stirred to the depths of his heart. 'Oh!' said he, -'you can at least take a day's rest. I'm of your wife's opinion. If -I were you I shouldn't go out to-day, I should stop in my garden and -watch my flowers bloom.' - -But Boisgelin again scrutinised him and, as if yielding to a desire -to confide in him, as in a safe friend, resumed: 'No, no, it is -indispensable that I should go out. What bothers me even more than -exercising supervision over my men and my fortune, is that I don't even -know where to put my money. Just think of it! there are milliards and -milliards! They end by becoming an encumbrance--no rooms are built big -enough to hold them. And so it has occurred to me to have a look round -and try to find some pit which might be deep enough. Only, don't say a -word of it; nobody ought even to suspect it.' - -Then as Luc, shuddering and terrified, turned towards Suzanne, who was -very pale, and scarce able to restrain her tears, Boisgelin profited -by the opportunity to slip out of the garden and go off. He could -still walk rapidly, and, turning down the sunlit avenue, he speedily -disappeared. Luc's first impulse was to run after him and bring him -back by force. - -'I assure you, my friend,' he said to Suzanne, 'that you act wrongly -in letting him wander about; I can never meet him prowling around -the schools or through the workshops and stores without fearing some -disaster.' - -However, Suzanne strove to reassure him. 'He is inoffensive, I am -sure of it,' she said. 'True, I sometimes tremble for him, for he -becomes so gloomy beneath the burden of all that imaginary money of -his that a sudden impulse to have done with it all is to be feared. -But how can I shut him up? He is only happy out of doors, and to place -him in confinement would be useless cruelty, especially as he never -even speaks to anybody, but remains as wild and as timid as a truant -schoolboy.' - -Then the tears, which she had been restraining, flowed forth. 'Ah! the -unhappy man, he has caused me much suffering; but never before did I -feel so grieved.' - -On learning that Luc was going to the schools Suzanne resolved to -accompany him. She also had aged; she was sixty-eight already. But she -had remained healthy and active, ever desirous of showing her interest -in others, and helping on good work. And since she had been living at -La Crêcherie, and had had nothing more to do for her son Paul, who -was now married and the father of several children, she had created -a larger family for herself by becoming a teacher of _solfeggio_ and -singing for some of the youngest pupils in the schools. This helped -her to live happily. It delighted her to arouse the musical instinct -in those little children. She herself was a good musician, but after -all her ambition was not so much to impart exceptional science to -them, as to render their singing natural, like that of the warblers -of the woods. And she had obtained marvellous results--there was all -the sonorous gaiety of an aviary in her class, and the young ones who -left her hands afterwards filled the other classes, the workshops, and -indeed the whole town, with perpetual mirthful melody. - -'But you don't give your lesson to-day, do you?' Luc inquired. - -'No, I only want to profit by the play-hour to make my little cherubs -rehearse a chorus. But there are also some matters for me to consider -with Sœurette and Josine.' - -The three women had become great, and indeed inseparable, friends. -Sœurette had retained the management of the central _crèche_, where -she watched over the very little ones--the children still in their -cradles and those who could scarcely walk. As for Josine, she directed -the needlework and household lessons, turning all the girls who passed -through the schools into good wives and mothers, well able to manage -their homes. In addition, the three friends formed together a kind of -council which looked into all important questions concerning women in -the new city. - -Luc and Suzanne, following the avenue, at last reached the large square -where the common-house arose, surrounded by green lawns decked with -shrubs and flower-beds. The building was not the modest pile of earlier -years; in its stead there had been erected a perfect palace, with a -long polychromatic façade, in which decorated stoneware and painted -faïence were blended with ironwork. In the large halls erected for -meetings, theatrical performances, spectacular displays, and games, -the people found themselves at their ease, at home as it were. They -frequently fraternised at the festivities which were interspersed among -the days of work. If the little houses, where each lived as he listed, -were modest ones, the common-house, on the contrary, displayed dazzling -luxury and beauty, such as was appropriate for the sovereign abode -of the people-king. The common-house even tended to become a town in -the town, so frequently was it enlarged in accordance with increasing -needs. Other buildings, too, arose behind it--libraries, laboratories, -and lecture-halls, which facilitated free study, research, experiment, -and the diffusion of the acquired truths. There were also courts and -covered buildings for athletic exercises, without mentioning some -admirable free baths, flooded with the fresh and pure water captured on -the slopes of the Bleuse Mountains, that water to whose inexhaustible -abundance the city owed its cleanliness, health, and gaiety. But the -schools especially had become a little world by themselves, occupying -a number of buildings near the common-house, for several thousand -children now studied in them. To avoid all unhealthy crowding numerous -divisions had been arranged, each occupying its own pavilions, whose -large bay windows overlooked spacious gardens. Thus the whole formed, -as it were, a city of childhood and youth, in which one found children -of all ages, from infants still in their cradles to big lads and -lassies who were completing their apprenticeships after passing through -the five classes in which education proper was imparted to them. - -'Oh!' said Luc, with his kindly smile, 'I always begin at the -beginning; I always go first to see those little friends of mine who -are still being suckled.' - -'Well, of course,' replied Suzanne, smiling also. 'I will go in with -you.' - -In the first pavilion on the right-hand, amidst a garden planted -with roses, Sœurette reigned over a hundred cradles and as many -rolling-chairs. She also watched over some of the adjacent pavilions, -but she invariably returned to this one, which sheltered three of Luc's -granddaughters and one of his grandsons, of whom she was very fond. -Luc and Josine, knowing how the city benefited by the rearing of the -children together, had set an example in this respect, desiring that -their own grandchildren should be brought up with those of others. - -As it happened, Josine was in the pavilion with Sœurette that morning. -The former was now fifty-eight, and the latter sixty-five years of -age. But Josine retained her supple gracefulness and fair delicacy -beneath her beautiful hair, whose golden hue had simply paled; whilst -Sœurette, as often happens with plain, thin, dark women, did not appear -to age, but seemed to acquire with advancing years a particular charm, -derived from her active kindliness and persistent youth. Suzanne, now -sixty-eight, was the elder of both of them; and all three surrounded -Luc like a trio of faithful hearts, one the loving wife and the others -devoted friends. - -When Luc went in with Suzanne, Josine was holding on her knees a little -boy scarcely two years old, whose right hand Sœurette was examining. - -'Why, what is the matter with my little Olivier?' asked Luc, already -feeling anxious. 'Has he hurt himself?' - -The little fellow was his last-born grandson, Olivier Froment, the -child of his eldest son Hilaire, and of Colette, the daughter of Nanet -and Nise. - -'Oh!' replied Sœurette, 'it is merely a splinter which must have come -from the table of his chair. There, it's out now!' - -The boy had raised a slight cry of pain and then had begun to laugh -again; while a little girl, a four-year-old, who ran about in all -freedom, hastened up with open arms as if to take hold of him and carry -him off. - -'Will you let him be, Mariette?' exclaimed Josine, full of alarm. 'One -must not turn one's little brother into a doll.' - -Mariette protested, declaring that she would be very good. And Josine, -like a kind grandmother, already calmed, glanced at Luc, and the pair -of them smiled, well pleased to see all those young folk who had sprung -from their love around them. However, Suzanne was bringing them two -other fair-headed little granddaughters, Hélène and Berthe, who were -twins, in their fourth year. Their mother was Pauline, Luc's second -daughter, now the wife of André Jollivet, who had been brought up by -his grandfather Judge Gaume, after the captain's tragical death and -Lucile's disappearance. Of their five children, Luc and Josine had -already married three, Hilaire, Thérèse, and Pauline, whilst the two -others, Charles and Jules, were as yet merely 'engaged.' - -'And these darlings--you were forgetting them,' said Suzanne gaily. - -Hélène and Berthe, the twins, threw their arms around the neck of their -grandfather, of whom they were extremely fond; Mariette also tried to -climb upon his knees, whilst little Olivier thrust out his hands, which -no longer hurt him, and frantically implored grandpapa to take him on -his shoulders. Luc, half stifled by caresses, began to jest: - -'That's it, my friend, you have now only to fetch Maurice, your -nightingale as you call him. Then there would be five of them to devour -me. Good heavens! what shall I do when there are dozens?' - -Then, setting the twins and Mariette on the floor, he took hold of -Olivier and threw him up into the air, at which the child raised cries -of rapturous delight. - -'Come, be reasonable, all of you,' Luc resumed when he had set the boy -on his chair again, 'one can't be always playing, you know; I must -attend to the others.' - -Guided by Sœurette and followed by Josine and Suzanne, he next went -round the rooms. Those nurseries of the little folk were very charming -with their white walls, their white cradles, their babes in white, -a universal whiteness which seemed so gay in the sunshine which -streamed through the lofty windows. Here also there was an abundance -of water--one could feel its crystalline freshness, hear its murmur, -as if indeed clear streams were flowing through the place, ensuring -all the extreme cleanliness which was apparent on every side. Cries -occasionally came from the cradles, but for the most part one only -heard the pretty prattle, the silvery laughter of those who could -already walk. Amongst them there was yet another little community, a -silent community of toys, dolls, jumping-jacks, horses, and carts, all -leading a naïve and comical existence. And these were the property of -one and all, of both the boys and the girls who mingled like members of -one sole family, growing up together from their cradles, and destined -hereafter to live side by side, now as brothers and sisters, now as -husbands and wives. - -This practice of bringing up the children of both sexes together had -already yielded good results. Among the young married couples Suzanne -noticed a happy peacefulness, a closer blending of intelligence and -sentiment, something resembling fraternity in love. And in the schools -she observed that the presence of the sexes side by side aroused a new -spirit of emulation, imparting gentleness to the boys, decision to the -girls, and preparing both for a more perfect intermingling of natures, -in such wise that they would become one joint spirit at the family -hearth. Nothing of that which some had feared had taken place; on the -contrary the moral level was higher than formerly, and it was wonderful -to see those lads and girls seek the studies which might prove most -useful to them, in accordance with the liberty which was granted to -each pupil to work out his or her future in conformity with individual -taste. - -'They are virtually betrothed in their cradles,' said Suzanne -jestingly, 'and divorce is done away with, for they know one another -too well to select either wife or husband lightly. But come, my dear -Luc, playtime has begun and I want you to hear my pupils sing.' - -Sœurette remained with her little folk, for it was also the time when -some of them took their baths, and Josine for her part had to go into -her needlework ward, where several of the little girls preferred to -spend their play-hour in learning to make dresses for their dolls. Thus -Luc alone followed Suzanne down the covered gallery into which opened -the five class-rooms. - -It had long since been necessary to subdivide the classes, provide -more spacious buildings, and even enlarge the dependencies, the -gymnasiums, the apprenticeship workshops, and the gardens into which -the children were turned in all liberty every two hours. After a few -trials a definite system of education had been arrived at, and this -system, which rendered study attractive by leaving the pupil all his -personality, and only requiring of him attention to such lessons as he -preferred, as he freely chose, yielded admirable results, providing the -city each year with a new generation that tended more and more towards -truth and justice. This was, indeed, the only good way to hasten the -future, to create such men as might be entrusted with the realisation -of to-morrow, free from all lying dogmas, reared amidst the necessary -realities of life, and won over to proven scientific facts. And now -that the new system worked so well nothing seemed more logical or more -profitable than to abstain from bending a whole class beneath the rod -of some master who would have tried to impose his personal views upon -some fifty pupils of varying disposition and sensibility. It seemed -indeed quite natural that one should simply awaken a desire to learn -among those pupils, then direct them on their journey of discovery, -and favour the individual faculties which each might display. The -five classes had thus become experimental grounds, where the children -gradually explored the field of human knowledge, not to devour that -knowledge gluttonously without digesting any of it, but to awaken -individual intellect, assimilate knowledge in accordance with personal -comprehension, and in particular make sure of one's specialities. - -Luc and Suzanne had to wait another moment for the school work to -cease. From the covered gallery they were able to glance into the large -class-rooms, where each pupil had his or her little table and chair. -Long tables and forms had been discarded, and the new system made the -pupil feel as if he were virtually his own master. But how gay was the -sight of all these lads and girls mingled together promiscuously! And -with what deep attention they listened to the professor who went from -one to another, teaching in a conversational manner, and at times even -provoking contradiction. As there were no longer any punishments or -prizes the children set their budding desire for glory in competing -together as to who could best show that he or she had understood some -knotty point. It often happened that the professor ceased speaking to -listen to those whom he guessed to be full of the subject, and the -lesson then acquired all the interest of a discussion. Indeed one of -the chief objects that the masters had in view was to put life into -the studies, to draw the pupils from inanimate books, to make them -cognisant of living things, and impart to them the passion of ideas. -And pleasure was born of it all, the pleasure of learning and knowing; -and through the five classes was spread the _ensemble_ of human -knowledge, the real stirring drama of the world, which each of us ought -to know, if he wishes to take part in it and find happiness in its -midst. - -But a joyous clamour arose, playtime had come round. Every two hours -the gardens were invaded by a rush of boys and girls, fraternising -together. A sturdy, good-looking lad, some nine years old, ran up and -flung himself in Luc's arms, exclaiming: 'Good morning, grandfather.' - -This was Maurice, the son of Thérèse Froment, who had married Raymond -Morfain. - -'Ah!' said Suzanne gaily, 'here's my nightingale! Come, children, shall -we repeat our pretty chorus on that lawn between those big chestnut -trees?' - -Quite a band already surrounded her. Among a score of others there were -two boys and a girl whom Luc kissed. Of the former one was Ludovic -Boisgelin, a lad eleven years old, the son of Paul Boisgelin and -Antoinette Bonnaire, whose marriage had first announced the fusion of -the classes. Then there was Félicien Bonnaire, now fourteen, the son -of Séverin Bonnaire and Léonie Gourier, the daughter of Achille and -Ma-Bleue, whose love had flowered among the wild perfumed rocks of the -Bleuse Mountains. And the girl was Germaine Yvonnot, a granddaughter -of Auguste Laboque and Marthe Bourron. A handsome, dark-haired -laughing girl she was, and in her one found blended the blood of -workman, peasant, and petty trader, who had so long warred one against -the other. It amused Luc to unravel the intricate skeins of those -alliances, those frequent crossings of the race; and he was skilful in -identifying the young faces, whose endless increase enraptured him. - -But Suzanne spoke: 'You shall hear them,' she said; 'it is a hymn to -the rising sun, a salute on the part of childhood to the planet which -will ripen the crops.' - -Some fifty children assembled together on the lawn amidst the chestnut -trees. And the chant arose, very fresh, pure, and gay. There was no -great musical science in it. It was merely a series of couplets, sung -by a girl and a boy alternately, and emphasised by choral repetition. -But it was so lively, so expressive of naïve faith in the planet of -light and kindliness, that it possessed a stirring charm as sung by -those young and somewhat shrill voices. For his part Maurice Morfain, -the little boy who replied to Germaine Yvonnot, the girl, possessed, -even as Suzanne had said, an angel voice of crystalline lightness, -rising to the most delightful, high-toned, flute-like notes. And the -chorus-singing suggested the warbling and chirruping of birds in -freedom on the branches. Nothing could have been more amusing. - -Luc laughed, like a well-pleased grandpapa, and Maurice, full of pride, -again rushed into his arms. - -'Why, it's true, my lad,' said Luc, 'you sing like a little -nightingale! And do you know that is very nice, because in life, you -see, you will be able to sing in your hours of worry, and your songs -will bring back your courage. One ought never to weep, one ought always -to sing.' - -'That is what I tell them!' exclaimed Suzanne. Everybody ought to sing, -and I teach them in order that they may sing here, and in studying, and -in their workshops, and afterwards throughout their lives. The nation -that sings is a nation of health and gaiety.' - -She displayed no severity nor vanity in the lessons which she gave in -this fashion amidst the garden greenery. Her only ambition was to open -those young souls to the mirth of fraternal song and the clear beauty -of harmony. As she expressed it, whenever the day of universal justice -and peace should dawn, the whole happy city would sing beneath the sun. - -'Come, my little friends,' she exclaimed, 'once again, and carefully, -in time. There is no occasion to hurry.' - -Once again the chant arose, but towards the finish of it the young -vocalists were disturbed. A man appeared amidst some shrubbery behind -the chestnut trees--a man who furtively turned round as if to hide -himself. Luc, however, perceived that it was Boisgelin, and was greatly -surprised by the maniac's strange behaviour; for he stooped and -explored the grass as if seeking some hiding-place, some secret cavity. -At last Luc understood the meaning of it. The poor fellow was looking -for some nook where he might store away his incalculable wealth in -order that it might not be stolen from him. He was often met behaving -in this wild way, trembling with fear, at a loss where he might bury -all that surplus fortune, the weight of which bowed him down. Luc -shuddered with pity at the sight, and became yet more concerned when he -perceived that the children were alarmed by the apparition, even like a -party of gay chaffinches put to flight by the wild fluttering of some -night-bird. - -However, Suzanne, who had turned somewhat pale, repeated in a louder -voice: 'Keep time, keep time, my dears! Bring out the last bar with all -your fervour!' - -Haggard and suspicious, Boisgelin had disappeared, like a black -shadow vanishing from amidst the flowering shrubs. And as soon as the -children, recovering their composure, had saluted the sovereign sun -with a last joyful cry, Luc and Suzanne complimented them on their -efforts and dismissed them to their play. Then they walked together -towards the apprenticeship workshops on the other side of the garden. - -'Did you see him?' Suzanne asked in a low voice, after a moment's -silence. 'Ah! the unhappy man, how anxious he makes me!' But as Luc -thereupon expressed his regret that he had been unable to follow -Boisgelin and take him home again, she once more protested: 'Oh! he -would not have followed you; you would have had to struggle with him, -and there would have been quite a scandal. My only fear, I repeat it to -you, is that he may be found some day in a pit with his head broken.' - -They relapsed into silence, for they were now reaching the workshops. -A good many pupils spent a part of their playtime there, planing wood, -filing iron, sewing or embroidering, whilst others who reigned over a -neighbouring strip of ground busied themselves with digging, sowing, -and weeding. And now Luc and Suzanne again met Josine, standing in a -large room where sewing, knitting, and weaving machines, placed side by -side, were worked sometimes by girls and sometimes by boys. Here again -several of the children were singing, and a joyous spirit of emulation -seemed to animate the workshop. - -'Do you hear them?' exclaimed Suzanne, whose gaiety had returned. -'They will always sing, those warblers of mine.' - -Josine was explaining to a big girl of sixteen, named Clémentine -Bourron, the manner in which she ought to manage a sewing-machine in -order to do certain embroidery, whilst another pupil, a girl of nine, -Aline Boisgelin by name, was waiting to be shown how she ought to turn -down a seam. Clémentine was the daughter of Sébastien Bourron and -Agathe Fauchard, her grandfather on her mother's side being Fauchard, -the old drawer of the Abyss, and on her father's Bourron the puddler. -Aline, who was a younger sister of Ludovic, the son of Paul Boisgelin -and Antoinette Bonnaire, laughed affectionately when she perceived her -grandmother, Suzanne, who was very fond of her. - -'Oh, grandmamma!' said she, 'I can't turn my seams down very well as -yet, but I sew them very straight--don't I, friend Josine?' - -Suzanne kissed her, then watched Josine, who turned down a seam to -serve as a pattern for the child. Luc himself took an interest in these -little matters, aware as he was that everything has its importance, -that happy life depends upon the happy employment of one's hours. Then, -as Sœurette came up, at the moment when he was about to quit Josine -and Suzanne in order to repair to the works, he found himself for a -moment in the flower garden with the three women, those three loving -and devoted hearts that helped him so powerfully to bring about the -fulfilment of his dream of goodness and happiness. They surrounded him -like symbols of the affectionate solidarity, the universal love which -he wished to disseminate among mankind. Taking each other by the hand -they stood there smiling at him, old no doubt, with their white hair, -but still beautiful, with the wondrous beauty of kindliness. And when, -after discussing some details of organisation with them, Luc departed, -going towards the works, their loving eyes long followed his footsteps. - -The factory halls and workshops, which were now much more extensive -than formerly, were full of the healthy gaiety which comes from an -abundance of sunshine and air. On all sides fresh water washed the -cement pavement, carrying off the slightest particles of dust in such -wise that the abode of work, once so grimy, muddy, and pestilential, -now shone with cleanliness. Most of the work, too, was now performed -by machines which stood around in serried array, like an army of -docile, indefatigable artisans, ever ready for the effort required of -them. If their metal arms wore out they simply had to be replaced. They -themselves did not know what pain was, and they had in part suppressed -human pain. They, too, were friendly machines, not the machines of -the earlier days, the competitors which aggravated the workman's want -by producing a fall in wages, but liberating machines, universal -tools toiling for man whilst man rested. Around those sturdy workers, -propelled by electricity, there were only so many drivers and watchers, -whose sole duties consisted in moving levers or switches, and in making -sure that the mechanism acted properly. The working day did not exceed -four hours, and a workman never spent more than two upon one task, -being relieved at the expiration of his two hours by a mate, whilst he -himself passed to some other form of work, industrial art, agriculture, -or public function. Again, the general employment of electric power had -virtually done away with the uproar with which the workshops had once -resounded, and now they were enlivened by the songs of the workmen, -the vocal mirth which the latter had brought from their schools like -a florescence of harmony embellishing their whole lives. And the -singing of those men around that silent machinery, at once so powerful -and so easy to manage, proclaimed the delight of just, glorious, and -all-saving work. - -As Luc passed through the hall containing the puddling furnaces, he -paused for a moment to exchange a few friendly words with a strong -young man of twenty or thereabouts, who managed one of those furnaces -without any need of assistance. - -'Well, Adolphe, are things going on satisfactorily, are you satisfied?' -Luc inquired. - -'Oh! certainly they are! I've just completed my two hours, and the -"bloom" is just fit for removal.' - -Adolphe was a son of Auguste Laboque and Marthe Bourron. Unlike his -maternal grandfather, Bourron the puddler, who had now retired, he did -not have to perform the terrible task of stirring the ball of fusing -metal with a long bar amidst all the flaring of the fire. The stirring -was now performed by mechanical means, and, indeed, an ingenious -contrivance brought the dazzling ball out of the furnace and placed it -on the chariot which carried it to the helve hammer without the workman -having to intervene. - -'You shall see,' Adolphe gaily resumed, 'it's of first-rate quality, -and the work's so easy.' - -He lowered a lever, a door opened, and the ball, like some planet, -setting the horizon aglow with its luminous trail, slid down to the -chariot, whilst the young man continued smiling, without a drop of -perspiration appearing on his brow, his limbs remaining nimble and -supple, undeformed by excessive toil. The chariot had already started -off to deposit its burden under the hammer, one of a new pattern, -worked by electricity, and doing everything that had to be done by -itself, without need of any smith to turn the lump over, now upon this -side and now upon that. And the hammer also worked so easily and the -sound it gave out was so clear and light that it became like a musical -accompaniment to the mirth of the workmen. - -'I must make haste,' said Adolphe again, after washing his hands. 'I -have to finish a table in which I'm greatly interested, and I shall do -a couple of hours in the carpenters' workshop.' - -He was indeed a carpenter as well as a puddler, having learnt various -callings, like all the young folk of his age, in order that he might -not be brutified by clinging to some particular specialty. Varied in -this manner, work became both delight and recreation. - -'Well, amuse yourself!' cried Luc, sharing his delight. - -'Yes, yes, thanks, Monsieur Luc. That's the right thing to say--good -work, good amusement.' - -One spot where Luc spent a few enjoyable minutes on the mornings when -he visited the works was the hall where the crucible furnaces were -installed. He there felt himself to be far indeed from the old hall at -the Abyss, that hall with its glowing pits growling like volcanoes, -whence the wretched workers, amidst a blaze of fire, had to lift at -arm's length their hundred pounds' weight of fusing metal. Instead of -the old-time grimy, filthy place, there was now a spacious gallery, -having broad windows through which the sunshine streamed, and a -pavement of large slabs between which opened batteries of symmetrically -disposed furnaces. As electricity was employed to work them they -remained cold, silent, clean, and bright. And here again mechanical -appliances performed all the work, lowered the crucibles, lifted them -all aglow, and emptied them into moulds under the eyes of the men -directing them. Women were even employed in this department, attending -to the distribution of the electric power, for it had been noticed that -they displayed more care and precision than men in working the delicate -appliances. - -Luc walked up to a tall and good-looking girl of twenty, Laure -Fauchard, daughter of Louis Fauchard and Julienne Dacheux, who, -standing near one apparatus, was carefully directing the current -towards one of the furnaces in accordance with the indications of a -young workman, who on his side watched the progress of the fusion. - -'Well, Laure, you are not tired, are you?' Luc asked her. - -'Oh! no, Monsieur Luc, it amuses me. How can I get tired from merely -turning this little switch?' - -The young workman, Hippolyte Mitaine, who was now nearly -three-and-twenty, had drawn near. He was the son of Évariste Mitaine -and Olympe Lenfant, and was reported to be betrothed to Laure Fauchard. - -'Monsieur Luc,' said he, 'if you would like to see some billets cast we -are ready.' - -The machinery on being started quietly and easily removed the -incandescent crucibles, and then emptied them into the moulds, which -another mechanism brought forward in turn. In five minutes, whilst the -young man and the girl looked on, the work was properly performed and -the furnace was ready to receive yet another charge. - -'There!' exclaimed Laure, laughing. 'When I think of all the terrible -stories which my poor grandfather Fauchard used to tell me when I was a -child I can hardly believe them. He hadn't got much of his wits left, -and he related things about his old calling as a drawer that were fit -to make one shudder. It was as if he had spent his life in the midst of -a fire, with the flames licking his limbs. All the old folk think us -very happy nowadays.' - -Luc had become grave, and emotion moistened his eyes. 'Yes, yes,' -said he, 'the grandfathers suffered a great deal. And that is why the -grandchildren enjoy a better life. Work well, and love one another -well, the lives of your sons and daughters will be better still.' - -Then Luc resumed his round, and wherever he repaired throughout those -spacious works he found the same healthy cleanliness, the same tuneful -gaiety, the same easy and attractive work, thanks to the variety of the -duties entrusted to the staff and the sovereign help of the machinery. -The worker was no longer an overpowered beast of burden, held in -contempt; with freedom he had recovered conscience and intelligence. - -As Luc concluded his inspection in the hall where the rolling-machinery -had its place, near the puddling furnaces, he again paused to say a few -friendly words to a young man, about twenty-six years of age, who was -just arriving. - -'Yes, Monsieur Luc,' was the reply, 'I've come from Les Combettes, -where I've been helping my father. There was some sowing to finish, so -I did two hours at it over yonder. And now I mean to do another two -hours here, for there is an urgent order for some rails.' - -The young man was named Alexandre, and was a son of Léon Feuillat and -Eugénie Yvonnot. Gifted with a lively fancy, he amused himself after -completing his regular four-hours' work by preparing ornamental designs -for Lange the potter. - -However, he had already set himself to his task, which was the -superintendence of a train of rollers for the making of rails. Luc, -who felt very happy, looked on in a kindly way. Since electrical force -had been employed the terrible uproar of the machinery had ceased; one -only heard the silvery ring of each rail as it spurted forth, following -those which were cooling. 'Twas all the good and constant production -of an epoch of peace, rails and yet more rails, in order that every -frontier might be crossed, and that the nations, drawn closer and -closer together, might become but one sole nation, spread over the -surface of the earth, which was becoming a perfect network of roads. -And in addition to the rails there were the great steel ships--not -the hateful vessels of war, carrying devastation and death across the -ocean, but vessels of solidarity and brotherliness, enabling continents -to exchange their products, and helping on the increase of mankind's -fortune to such a degree that prodigious abundance reigned everywhere. -And there were also the bridges facilitating communication, and the -girders and all the structural materials for the erection of the -innumerable edifices which the reconciled communities needed for their -public life, the common-houses, the libraries, the museums, the asylums -for infancy and old age, the huge general stores and the granaries, -all vast enough for the life and keep of the federated nations. And -finally, there were the innumerable machines and appliances which upon -all sides and in all forms of labour replaced the arms of men: those -which tilled the soil, those which toiled in the workshops, those which -travelled along the roads, athwart the waves and through the sky. And -Luc rejoiced that all that iron and steel should have become pacific, -that the metal of conquest which mankind had so long employed solely -to make the swords and spears that it needed for its bloodthirsty -struggles, which it had afterwards turned into the guns and shells -of its latter days of carnage, should be used, now that peace was -won, solely for the erection of its city of fraternity, justice, and -happiness. - -Before returning home that day Luc desired to give a last glance at the -battery of electrical furnaces which had replaced Morfain's smeltery. -The battery, as it happened, was then at work, amidst a blaze of -sunshine which filled the glazed shed where it was placed. Every five -minutes the mechanism charged the furnaces afresh, after the rolling -way had carried off the ten pigs whose glow was dimmed by the bright -light of the planet. And here again, watching over the electrical -appliances, there were two girls each about twenty, one of them a -charming blonde, Claudine, the daughter of Lucien Bonnaire and Louise -Mazelle, and the other a superb brunette, Céline, the daughter of -Arsène Lenfant and Eulalie Laboque. As it was needful that they should -give all their attention to switching the current on and off, they were -at first only able to smile at Luc. But a short rest ensued, and on -perceiving a group of children who stood inquisitively on the threshold -of the shed, they came forward. - -'Good-day, my little Maurice! Good-day, my little Ludovic! Good-day, my -little Aline! Are lessons over, since you have come to see us?' - -It should be mentioned that the children by way of recreation, and in -the idea that they would acquire some first notions of various forms of -work, were allowed to run about the place in comparative freedom. Luc, -well pleased at seeing his grandson Maurice again, made the whole party -enter the shed. And he answered their numerous questions, and explained -the mechanism of the furnaces, and even made the appliances work again -by way of showing the children how it sufficed for Claudine or Céline -to turn a little lever, in order to fuse the metal and enable it to -flow forth in a dazzling stream. - -But Maurice, with all the importance of a little man who, though only -nine years old had already learnt a great many things, exclaimed 'Oh! -I know, I've already seen it. Grandfather Morfain showed me everything -one day. But tell me, grandfather Froment, is it true that there used -to be furnaces as high as mountains, and that one had to burn one's -face day and night in order to get anything out of them?' - -The others all began to laugh at this, and it was Claudine who -answered: 'Of course there were! Grandfather Bonnaire has often -told me of it, and you, Maurice, ought to know the story, for your -great-grandfather--the great Morfain as he is still called--was the -last to wrestle with fire like a hero. He lived up yonder in a cavern -in the rocks, and never came down to the town, but from one end of -the year to the other watched over his gigantic furnace, the monster -whose ruins one can still see on the mountain-side, like those of some -storm-rent castle-keep of the ancient days.' - -Maurice's eyes dilated with astonishment, and he listened with all the -passionate interest of a child to whom some prodigious fairy-tale is -being told. 'Oh! I know, I know! Grandfather Morfain told me all about -his father and the furnace as high as a mountain. But, all the same, -I thought he was inventing it just to amuse us, for he does invent -stories when he wants to make us laugh. And so it's true?' - -'Why yes, it's true!' Claudine continued. 'Up above there were workmen -who loaded the furnace, by emptying into it truck-loads of ore and -coal, and down below there were other workmen ever on the watch, ever -nursing the monster so that it might not have an attack of indigestion -which would have prevented the work from being properly performed.' - -'And that lasted seven and eight years at a stretch,' said Céline, the -other young woman; 'the monster remained alight all that time, always -flaming like a crater, without it being possible for one to let it -cool, for if it did cool, there was a great loss, it had to be broken -open, and cleaned, and almost entirely rebuilt.' - -Then Claudine resumed: 'So you see, my little Maurice, your -great-grandfather Morfain had a vast deal of work to do, since he could -hardly quit that fire for a moment during seven or eight years; besides -which, every five hours, he had to clear the tap-hole with an iron bar, -in order to release the smelted ore, which ran out like a perfect river -of flames, hot enough to roast one, as if one were a duck on the spit.' - -At this the hitherto stupefied children burst into loud laughter. Oh! -the idea of it, a duck on the spit, Old Morfain roasting like a duck! - -'Ah well!' said Ludovic Boisgelin, 'it can't have been very amusing to -work in those days. It must have given one too much trouble.' - -'Of course,' his sister Aline exclaimed, 'I'm glad that I was born -after all that, for it's very amusing to work nowadays.' - -Maurice, however, had become serious and thoughtful, turning over -in his mind all the incredible things which had been told him. And -by way of summing up everything, he ended by saying: 'All the same, -grandfather's father must have been awfully strong, and if things go -better nowadays it is perhaps because he had such a lot of trouble -formerly.' - -Luc, who hitherto had contented himself with smiling, was delighted by -this remark. He caught up Maurice and kissed him on both cheeks. 'You -are right, my boy,' said he. 'And in the same way, if you work with all -your heart nowadays, your great-grandchildren will be yet happier than -you are--even now, you see, one no longer roasts like a duck.' - -By his orders the battery of electrical furnaces was started once -more, Claudine and Céline turning the current on or off by a simple -gesture. The children wished to direct the mechanism themselves, and -how delightful did that easy work seem after the legend-like narrative -of Morfain's hard toil--the toil, it seemed, of some pain-racked giant -living in a world that had disappeared! - -All at once, however, there came an apparition, and the children, -perturbed by it, ran off. Then Luc again perceived Boisgelin, who this -time stood at one of the doorways of the shed, watching the work in an -angry, mistrustful way, like some master who is for ever afraid that -his men may rob him. He was often to be seen in this fashion in one or -another part of the works, distracted by the idea that the place was -too vast to be properly inspected by him, and maddened more and more -by the thought of all the millions that he must every day be losing -through his inability to check the work of all those people who were -earning milliards for him. They were too numerous, he was never able -to see them all. He looked so haggard, so exhausted by his fruitless -roaming through the workshops, that Luc, stirred by pity, this time -wished to join him, calm him, and lead him gently home. But Boisgelin -was on his guard, and springing back, ran off towards the large -workshops. - -His morning ramble over, Luc now returned home, and just as the -daylight was waning in the afternoon, after glancing round the general -stores, he went to spend an hour with the Jordans. In the little -drawing-room overlooking the park he found Sœurette chatting with -schoolmaster Hermeline and Abbé Marle; whilst Jordan, stretched on a -sofa and wrapped in a rug, remained thinking, according to his wont, -with his eyes fixed upon the setting sun. Amiable Doctor Novarre had -lately been carried off after an illness of a few hours, his only -regret being that he would not behold the realisation of so many -beautiful things in the possibility of which he had at the outset -scarcely believed. Thus Sœurette nowadays received but the schoolmaster -and the priest, and these only called at long intervals, when yielding -to their old habit of meeting at her house. Hermeline, now seventy -years of age and retired, was ending his days in a state of growing -bitterness and anger against all that passed before him. He had reached -such a point in this respect that he reproached the old priest with -lack of warmth. As a matter of fact Abbé Marle, who was five years -older than the other, sought refuge in dolorous dignity, silence which -became more and more haughty as he beheld his church becoming empty and -his religion expiring. - -As Luc entered and took a chair beside Sœurette, who sat there silent, -gentle, and patient, it so happened that the schoolmaster was again -badgering the priest, like the sectarian and dictatorial republican -that he still was. 'Come, come, abbé,' he said, 'since I fall in with -your views you ought to help me. This is surely the end of the world. -Children's passions, evil growths which we the educators were formerly -appointed to crush, are nowadays cultivated, it seems. How is it -possible for the State to have any disciplined citizens reared for its -service when a free rein is given to anarchical individuality? If we, -the men of method and sense, don't manage to save the Republic, it is -surely lost!' - -Since the day when he had thus begun to speak of saving the Republic -from those whom he called the Socialists and the Anarchists, he had -gone over to the side of reaction, joining the priest in his hatred -of all who dared to free themselves otherwise than by his own narrow -Jacobin formula. - -And he went on yet more violently: 'I tell you, abbé, that your -church will be swept away if you do not defend it! Your religion, no -doubt, was never mine. But I have always admitted the necessity of a -religion for the people; and Catholicism was certainly an admirable -governing machine. So stir yourself! We are with you, and we will have -an explanation afterwards, when we have re-conquered the lost ground -together.' - -At first Abbé Marle simply shook his head. As a rule nowadays he did -not take the trouble to answer or get angry. At last he slowly said: 'I -do the whole of my duty--I am at my altar every morning, even when my -church is empty, and I implore God to perform a miracle. He will surely -do so, if He deems it necessary.' - -This brought the old schoolmaster's exasperation to a climax. 'Pooh! -one must help oneself! It is cowardly to do nothing.' - -Sœurette, smiling and full of tolerance for those vanquished men, -thereupon thought it necessary to intervene: 'If the good doctor was -still here,' said she, 'he would beg you not to agree so well together, -since your seeming agreement only makes your quarrel worse. You grieve -me, my friends; I should have been so happy--not to convert you to our -ideas, but to see you admit, by virtue of experience, a little of all -the good which our ideas have effected in this region.' - -They had both retained great deference for Sœurette, and indeed their -presence in that little drawing-room, beside the very hearth, so to -say, of the new city, showed what ascendancy she still exercised over -them. For her sake they even put up with the presence of Luc, their -victorious adversary, though he, it should be admitted, discreetly -avoided all appearance of triumphing over them. Thus, on this occasion, -he refrained from intervening, however furiously Hermeline might deny -all that he had created. After all, thought Luc, this was simply the -last revolt of the principle of authority against the liberation of -man both naturally and socially. On seeing the nations so near the -point of escaping from civil as well as religious servitude, the -once all-powerful State and the once all-powerful Church, which had -voraciously contended for possession of them, now tried to come to an -agreement, and league themselves together in order to reconquer the -nations. - -'Ah!' cried Hermeline again, 'if you own yourself beaten, abbé, it -must be all over. In that case I can only keep silent as you do, and -withdraw into my corner to die.' - -The priest once more shook his head, preserving silence. But -eventually, for the last time, he said: 'God cannot be beaten; it is -for God Himself to act.' - -The night was now slowly falling over the park, lengthening shadows -were filling the little _salon_, and nobody spoke any further. Only a -great quiver, coming from the melancholy past, swept through the room. -Finally the schoolmaster rose and took his leave. Then, as the priest -was about to do the same, Sœurette wished to slip into his hand the sum -which at each recurring visit she had been accustomed to give him for -his poor. This time, however, he refused the alms which he had been -accepting so regularly for more than forty years; and in a low voice he -slowly said: 'No, thank you, mademoiselle; keep that money. I should -not know what to do with it; there are no more poor!' - -Ah! what words those were for Luc: 'No more poor!' His heart had leapt -as he heard them. No more poor, no more starvelings in that town of -Beauclair, which he had known so black, so wretched, peopled by such -an accursed race of famished toilers! Would all the frightful sores -which had come from the wage-system be healed then? would shame and -crime soon disappear, even as want did? The reorganisation of work in -accordance with justice had sufficed already to bring about a better -apportionment of wealth. And thus, when work should on all sides become -honour and health and joy, an entirely peaceful and a brotherly race -would assuredly people the happy city. - -Jordan, who still lay upon the sofa, wrapped in his rug, had hitherto -remained motionless, his eyes fixed upon space, through which no -doubt his mind was roaming. At last, Abbé Marle and Hermeline having -departed, he woke up, and without taking his eyes off the sunset which -he seemed to be watching with passionate interest, he said in a dreamy -manner: 'Each time that I see the sun set I become dreadfully sad and -anxious. Suppose it were not to come back, suppose it were never to -rise again over the black and frost-bound earth, what a terrible death -would then overtake all life! The sun is the father, the fructifier, -without whom all germs would wither or rot. And it is in the sun that -we must place our hope of relief and future happiness, for if it were -not to help us life would some day dry up.' - -Luc had begun to smile. He knew that Jordan, in spite of his great -age--he was now nearly seventy-five--had for some years been studying -the problem of how he might capture solar heat and store it in vast -reservoirs in order to distribute it afterwards as the one, great, -eternal, living force. A time would come when the coal in the mines -would be exhausted, and where would one then find the necessary energy -for the torrent of electricity which had become so needful for life? -Thanks to his first discoveries, Jordan had succeeded in supplying an -abundance of electrical force for next to nothing. But what a victory -it would be if he should succeed in making the sun the universal -motor--if he should be able to take from it direct the caloric power -which was now found slumbering in coal--if he should manage to employ -it as the one sole fructifier, the very father of immortal life! He had -but a last discovery to effect, and then his work would be accomplished -and he would be ready to die. - -'Don't alarm yourself!' said Luc gaily, 'the sun will rise to-morrow -and you will succeed at last in snatching the sacred fire from it.' - -However, Sœurette, whom the evening breeze now coming in cool gusts -through the open window rendered somewhat anxious, stepped forward to -ask her brother: 'Don't you feel cold? Wouldn't you like me to shut the -window?' - -He declined the offer with a motion of his hand, and all that he would -allow was that she should wrap him round with the rug to his very chin. -He now seemed to live solely by a miracle, solely because he wished -to live, having adjourned death until the evening of his last day of -work, the triumphant evening when, his task accomplished, he might at -last sink into the good sleep of a loyal and contented worker. His -sister surrounded him with greater precautions than ever; her extreme -care prolonged his strength, and still gave him two hours of physical -and intellectual energy each day--two hours which by force of method -he put to wonderful use. And thus that poor, old, puny being, whom the -slightest draught threatened with annihilation, was completing the -conquest of the world simply because he was still a stubborn worker, -one who did not throw his task aside. - -'You will live to be a hundred years old!' said Luc, with an -affectionate laugh. - -At this Jordan likewise made merry. 'No doubt,' said he, 'if a hundred -years prove necessary.' - -Again deep silence fell in the little _salon_, full of such -affectionate intimacy. It was delightful to see the warm twilight -stealing slowly over the park, whose deep paths were gradually steeped -in the gloom. Vague gleams still hovered just above the lawns, whilst -the great trees faded away and became like light and quivering -apparitions in the blue distance. And it was now the sweethearts' -hour--the sweethearts to whom the park of La Crêcherie remained open, -and who therefore came thither in the twilight after their daily work. -Nobody troubled about the roaming, shadowy couples, who, holding one -another by the hand, gradually melted away and disappeared amidst the -greenery. They were confided to the keeping of the friendly old oaks. -Reliance was placed on the freedom to love that was granted them, for -this would render them gentle and chaste, like future spouses whose -embrace becomes an indissoluble tie if mutually desired. To love always -one need only know why and how one loves. Those who choose one another, -knowing and consenting, never part. And already, along the dim avenues, -over the lawns where the shadows stretched, there came sauntering -couples, who peopled, as with apparitions, the mysterious gloom amidst -the quiver of delight which the fresh odours of spring brought from the -earth. - -As other couples arrived Luc recognised among them several of the -lads and girls whom he had seen in the workshops that morning. Were -not yonder shadowy forms, so close one to the other that they seemed -carried by one and the same flight over the tips of the grass, those -of Adolphe Laboque and Germaine Yvonnot? And those others, whose hair -mingled, their heads resting one against the other, were they not -Hippolyte Mitaine and Laure Fauchard? And those others too, whose arms -were tightly clasped around each other's waist, were they not Alexandre -Feuillat and Clémence Bourron? Yet softer emotion came to Luc's heart -when he fancied that he recognised his son Charles with his arm around -the dark-haired Céline Lenfant, and his son Jules leading away in his -embrace the fair Claudine Bonnaire. Ah! the young folk, the messengers -of the new springtide, the last to awaken to love, to feel kindling -within them the glow of life which the generations transmit one to -the other! As yet they knew but the chaste quiver which comes at the -first whispered words, and the innocent caress, the clasp in which -ignorant hearts seek one another, and the furtive kiss whose sweetness -suffices to open the portals of heaven. But before long the sovereign -flame would unite and blend them in order that yet other artisans of -love might spring from them, other couples, who in years to come would -repair to this same park to exchange the vows of budding affection. -For there would ever be more and more happiness and more and more free -passion tending to increase of harmony. Even now other couples, and -others still, were arriving, the park was gradually becoming populous -with all the sweethearts of the happy city. This was the exquisite -evening after the good day of work, the gloaming spent amidst lawn and -cover, shadowy like dreamland, steeped in mystery and perfume, with -nought breaking upon the silence save light sounds of laughter and -kisses. - -All at once, however, a shadowy form stopped outside the _salon_. It -was Suzanne, who had anxiously been seeking Luc. And on finding him -there she told him how greatly she was worried by Boisgelin's prolonged -absence, for he had not yet returned home. Never before had he lingered -like this out of doors after nightfall. - -'You were right,' she repeated; 'I did wrong in leaving him to his mad -fancies. Ah! the unhappy man, the poor old child!' - -Luc, who shared her fears, bade her go home again. 'He may return at -any moment,' he said; 'it is best that you should be there. For my part -I will have a look round and bring you tidings.' - -He at once took two men with him and crossed the park, with the -intention of beginning the search among the workshops. But he had -scarcely taken three hundred steps, and was near the little lake, -fringed with willows, quite a nook of paradise, when he halted on -hearing a light cry of terror which came from an adjacent clump of -greenery. From amidst that foliage there ran a pair of frightened -lovers, who he fancied were his son Jules and the fair Claudine -Bonnaire. 'What is the matter? What has alarmed you?' he called. - -But they did not answer, they fled as beneath a blast of terror, -like love birds whose caresses have been disturbed by some frightful -encounter. And when Luc himself decided to enter the copse, he also -gave vent to an exclamation of horror. For he had almost knocked -against a body which hung from a branch there, blocking the narrow -pathway. In the last gleam of light falling from the sky where the -stars were now appearing Luc recognised the body as that of Boisgelin. - -'Ah! the unhappy man, the poor old child!' he murmured, repeating -Suzanne's words, and feeling quite upset by that horrible tragedy which -would cause her such deep grief. - -With the help of his companions he cut down the body and laid it on -the ground. But it was already quite cold. The unhappy man must have -hanged himself there early in the afternoon, after his desperate ramble -through the busy works. Luc fancied that he could divine everything -when at the foot of the tree he noticed a large hole which Boisgelin -had apparently dug with his hands, a hole in which he had no doubt -meant to bury the prodigious fortune which his people of workers -earned for him, that fortune which he knew not how to manage or how to -store away. And despairing, perchance, of his power to make a pit of -sufficient size for so much wealth, he had ended by resolving to die -there and thus rid himself of the horrible embarrassment in which he -was placed by his ever-growing and crushing fortune. His day of wild -roaming, his madness, his inability to live, idler that he was, in the -new city of just work, had culminated in that tragic death, and he had -hung there whilst the park, in the clasp of warm and nuptial night, was -filled with the rustling of caresses and the whispering of loving vows. - -In order to avoid frightening the shadowy couples gliding between the -trees around him, Luc at once sent the two men to fetch a stretcher -at La Crêcherie, at the same time begging them to tell nobody of the -lugubrious discovery. And when they had returned and laid the lifeless -body between the little curtains of grey canvas, the mournful _cortège_ -set off along the blackest of the paths in order to escape observation. -In this wise death, frightful death, passed along silently, steeped in -shadows, through the delightful awakening of spring, now all a-quiver -with new life. Lovers seemed to arise on all sides, springing up at -the bends of each avenue, in the recesses of each clump of bushes. -A perfume of flowers made the air quite balmy, hands sought hands, -and lips met. Love was budding, a fresh wave was coming to increase -humanity's broad stream, death was incessantly vanquished, to-morrow -and to-morrow were ever sprouting in order that there might be yet more -truth, more justice, more happiness in the world. - -Suzanne stood waiting in a state of anguish, at the door of the house, -her eyes gazing into the night. When she perceived the stretcher she -understood, and gave vent to a low moan. And when Luc in a few words -had acquainted her with the wretched end of the useless being now -slumbering there, she was only able to repeat, as she thought of that -empty, poisoned, and poisonous life which had brought her so much -suffering: 'Ah, the unhappy man, the poor old child!' - -Other catastrophes took place amidst the crumbling of the rotten -society of the old days now fated to disappear. But the greatest stir -of all was caused by one that occurred during the ensuing month--the -collapse of the old church of Saint Vincent one bright sunshiny morning -when Abbé Marle was at the altar celebrating mass solely for the -sparrows which flew through the deserted nave. - -The priest had long been aware that his church would some day fall -upon him. It dated from the sixteenth century, and was in a very -damaged condition, cracking upon all sides. The steeple had certainly -been repaired some forty years previously, but from lack of funds it -had been necessary to postpone all work on the roofing, whose beams, -half eaten away, were already yielding. And since that time every -application for a grant had been made in vain. The State, overburdened -with debts, abandoned that church of a remote region. The town of -Beauclair refused to contribute anything, Mayor Gourier having never -been on the side of the priests. Thus Abbé Marle, reduced to his own -resources, had been obliged to seek among the faithful the large sum -which became more and more urgently required if the edifice was not -to fall upon his shoulders. But in vain did he knock at the doors of -wealthy parishioners, the faithful were dwindling away, their zeal was -fast cooling. During the lifetime of the beautiful Léonore, the mayor's -wife, whose extreme piety proved some compensation for her husband's -atheism, the priest had found precious help in her. Subsequently, -however, only Madame Mazelle had remained to him, and not only did her -fervour decline, but she was in no wise of a generous disposition. -In course of time worries respecting her fortune consumed her, and -she came less and less frequently to Saint Vincent, in such wise that -nobody was left to the priest save a few poor creatures who in their -wretchedness clung obstinately to the hope of a better life. And -finally when no poor remained, the church became quite empty, and the -abbé lived there in solitude, amidst the abandonment in which mankind -now at last left his religion of error and wretchedness. - -The abbé then felt that a world was indeed expiring around him. -His complaisance had been powerless to save the life of the lying, -poisonous _bourgeoisie_ which was devoured by its own iniquities. In -vain had he cast the cloak of religion over its last agony; it had -died amidst a final scandal. And in vain, too, had he sought a refuge -in the strict letter of dogma, in order that he might concede nothing -to the truths of science, which, he could realise, were mounting to -the supreme and victorious assault by which the ancient edifice of -Catholicism would be destroyed. Science, indeed, had at last effected -its breach, dogma was finally swept away, and the Kingdom of God was -about to be set, not in some fabulous paradise, but upon this very -earth, in the name of triumphant justice. A new religion, the religion -of man, at last truly conscious, free, and master of his destiny, was -sweeping away the ancient mythologies, the forms of symbolism amidst -which he had lost himself during the anguish of his long struggle -against nature. After the temples of ancient idolatry, the Catholic -churches in their turn had to disappear, now that a fraternal people -set its certain happiness in the sole force of its living solidarity -without need of any political system of punishments and rewards. Thus -the priest, since confessional and holy table alike had been deserted, -since the faithful had departed from his church, beheld each day when -he celebrated mass there the cracks in the walls spreading, and the -beams of the roofs yielding more and more. It was a constant crumbling, -a gradual process of destruction and ruin, the slightest premonitory -sounds of which he could detect. But since he had been unable to summon -the builders even for the most urgent repairs, he must necessarily -allow the work of death to follow its course and culminate in the -natural end of things. Thus he simply waited and continued to say his -mass, like a hero of faith, alone with his forsaken creed, whilst the -roof cracked more and more above the altar. - -A morning came when Abbé Marle perceived that another large stretch -of the vaulting of the nave had split during the previous night. -And although he now felt certain of the downfall which he had been -anticipating for months past, he nevertheless came to celebrate -his last mass, clad in his richest vestments. Very tall and -broad-shouldered, with a nose like an eagle's beak, he still held -himself firm and upright in spite of his advanced age. He dispensed -with servers now, he came and went, spoke the sacramental words, and -made the usual gestures, as if a great throng were pressing together -before him, docile to his voice. But in the state of abandonment -in which the church was left, only some broken chairs lay upon the -flag-stones, suggesting the wretched-looking mouldy garden seats that -are left forgetfully out of doors exposed to the rains of winter. Weeds -grew round the columns, over which moss was spreading. All the winds of -heaven streamed in through the broken windows, and the great doorway -being half unhinged, remained partially open, allowing the animals of -the neighbourhood to flock in. On that fine bright day, however, it -was particularly the sunshine that poured into the edifice, like a -conqueror, setting as it were a triumphal invasion of life amidst that -tragic ruin where birds flew hither and thither, and where wild oats -germinated even among the stone mantles of the old saints. Above the -altar, however, there still reigned a great crucifix of painted and -gilded wood, displaying a long, livid, pain-racked effigy, splashed -with some blackish blood that dripped like tears. - -Whilst Abbé Marle was reading the Gospel he heard a louder cracking, -and some dust and some fragments of plaster fell upon the altar. Then, -at the moment of the Offertory, the sinister rending began again, -and it seemed as if the edifice were shaking before it fell. But the -priest, collecting all the remaining strength of his faith together for -the Elevation, prayed with his whole soul for the miracle for whose -glorious, all-saving splendour he had so long been waiting. If it -should so please God, the church would regain its vigorous youth, and -be endowed with sturdy pillars upholding an indestructible nave. Masons -were not necessary, the Almighty power would suffice, and a magnificent -sanctuary would arise there, with chapels of gold, windows of purple, -wood-work marvellously carved, and dazzling marble, whilst a multitude -of the faithful on their knees would sing the hymn of Resurrection -amidst the blaze of thousands of candles and the loud pealing of bells. -But at the very moment when the priest, finishing his prayer, raised -the chalice, it was not the miracle he asked for that came, it was -annihilation. He stood there erect, with both arms raised in a superb -gesture of heroic belief, and the vaulted roof was rent asunder as if -by a bolt from heaven, and crashed downward in a whirlwind of fragments -with a roar like that of thunder. The shaken steeple tottered and then -in its turn fell, ripping the remainder of the roof open, and dragging -down the rest of the sundered walls. And nought remained beneath the -bright sun save a huge litter of stones and tiles, amidst which a -fruitless search was made for Abbé Marle. He had disappeared as if -the remnants of the shattered altar had consumed his flesh, drunk his -blood. And in like way nothing was ever found of the great crucifix of -painted and gilded wood. That also had been shattered to atoms, reduced -to dust. Thus yet another religion was dead, the last priest saying his -last mass had perished with the last of the churches. - -For a few days old Hermeline, the retired schoolmaster, was seen -prowling about the ruins, and talking aloud as old folk are wont to -do when haunted by some fixed idea. His words could not be plainly -distinguished, but he seemed to be still arguing and reproaching -the abbé for having failed to obtain the needed miracle. Then, one -morning, he was found dead in his bed. And later on, when the ruins -of the church had been cleared away, a garden was planted there, with -fine trees and shady walks, skirting sweet-smelling lawns. Lovers went -thither on pleasant evenings, even as they went to the park of La -Crêcherie. The happy city was ever spreading, children were growing and -becoming lovers in their turn, lovers whose kisses in the shade again -sowed future harvests. After the gay day of work came love amidst the -roses blooming upon every side. And in that delightful garden where -slept the dust of a religion of wretchedness and death, one now beheld -the growth of human joy, the overflowing florescence of life. - - - -IV - - -During yet another ten years the city continued growing, and organising -new society in accordance with the principles of justice and peace. And -at last, one 20th of June, on the eve of one of the great Festivals of -Work, which took place four times a year, coinciding with the seasons, -Bonnaire met with a strange experience. - -He, Bonnaire, now nearly eighty-five years of age, had become the -patriarch, the hero of work. Still straight and tall, with an energetic -head under a crown of thick white hair, he remained active and gay, -in the enjoyment of good health. Old revolutionary that he was, a -theoretical Collectivist pacified by the sight of his comrades' -happiness, he now tasted all the reward of his long efforts--the -conquest of that harmonious solidarity amidst which he saw his -grandchildren and great-grandchildren growing in all felicity. - -That evening then, just as the daylight was waning, Bonnaire happened -to be strolling near the entrance of the Brias gorges. He often walked -abroad in this fashion, with the sole assistance of a stick, for the -pleasure of viewing the countryside once more and recalling old-time -memories. On this occasion he had just reached the spot where in -former days had stood the gates of the Abyss, which had long since -disappeared. Near that spot also a wooden bridge had once spanned the -Mionne, but no trace of it remained, for the torrent had been covered -over for a distance of about a hundred yards, to admit of the passage -of a broad boulevard. - -What changes there were! thought Bonnaire. Who would ever have -recognised the former black and muddy threshold of the accursed factory -in that broad, open space, over which there now passed a quiet, -bright-looking avenue, lined with smiling houses? As he lingered there -for a moment, erect and handsome, like the happy old man he was, he -experienced great surprise on perceiving another old man, a stranger, -huddled up on a wayside bench near him. And this other seemed to have -been wrecked by misery, for his clothes were in tatters, his face -ravaged and bushy with hair, his frame emaciated and trembling as if -with some evil fever. - -'A poor man!' muttered Bonnaire, speaking aloud in his astonishment. - -It was certainly a poor man, and years had now gone by since Bonnaire -had seen one. It was evident, however, that he who sat on the bench did -not belong to the region. His shoes and clothes were white with dust, -and he must have sunk upon that bench near the entry of the town from -sheer fatigue, after tramping the roads for days and days. His staff -and his empty wallet had fallen from his weary hands and lay at his -feet. With an air of exhaustion he let his gaze wander around him, like -one who is lost, who knows not where he may be. - -Full of pity Bonnaire drew near to him. 'Can I help you, my poor -fellow?' he asked; 'your strength is exhausted, and you seem to be in -great distress.' - -Then, as the other did not answer, but still let his eyes roam in -a scared way from one point of the horizon to the other, Bonnaire -continued: 'Are you hungry? do you need a good bed? Let me guide -you--you will here find all the help you need.' - -Thereupon the old and wretched-looking beggar began to stammer in a low -voice, as if speaking to himself: 'Beauclair, Beauclair--is this really -Beauclair?' - -'Of course it is; you are at Beauclair, that's certain,' declared the -former master-puddler with a smile. But on seeing the other give signs -of increasing surprise and anxiety, he ended by understanding the -truth: 'You knew Beauclair formerly, no doubt,' said he. 'It is perhaps -a long time since you were last here?' - -'Yes, it was more than fifty years ago,' the stranger answered in a -husky voice. - -Then Bonnaire burst into good-natured laughter. 'In that case I am -not astonished if you find a difficulty in recognising the place,' -he retorted. 'There have been some changes. For instance, here the -Abyss works have disappeared, whilst yonder the sordid hovels of -old Beauclair have been razed to the ground. And you can see that a -new city has been built; the park of La Crêcherie has spread over -everything, invading the former town with its greenery and turning it -into a vast garden, where the little white houses peep brightly from -among the trees. And thus one naturally has to reflect before one can -recognise the place.' - -The stranger had followed the explanations, turning his glance upon -the various points which Bonnaire with gentle gaiety indicated. But -again he wagged his head as if he could not believe what was told him. -'No, no,' said he, 'I don't recognise it; this can't be Beauclair. -Yonder are the two promontories of the Bleuse Mountains, between which -the Brias gorge opens; and yonder, too, far away, is the plain of La -Roumagne. That's certain, but all the rest--those fine gardens and -those houses belong to some other spot, some wealthy and smiling land -which I never saw before. Ah! well, I shall have to walk further; I -must have made a mistake in the road.' - -After picking up his staff and his wallet, he was making an effort to -rise from the bench when his eyes at last rested on the old man who -had shown himself so obliging and friendly. And at the first glance -which he gave Bonnaire he shuddered, and became anxious to depart. -Had he recognised Bonnaire then, although he could not recognise the -town? Bonnaire, for his part, was so stirred by the sudden flame which -shot from the other's hairy countenance that he examined him more -attentively. Where had he previously seen those bright eyes, which -blazed in moments of savage violence? All at once his memory awoke, and -in his turn he shuddered, whilst all the past lived anew in the cry -which burst from his lips: - -'Ragu!' - -For fifty years people had believed him to be dead! But the crushed -and mutilated body found in a gorge of the Bleuse Mountains, on the -morrow of his flight, after his crime, had not been his. He lived, -he lived, good heavens! He had come back, and to Bonnaire that -extraordinary resurrection after so many events and so many years -brought anguish--anguish respecting all that had happened in the past, -and all that might happen to-morrow. - -'Ragu, Ragu, it is you!' Bonnaire repeated. - -The other already had his staff in his hand, his wallet on his -shoulder. But as he was recognised why should he go off? It was certain -now that he had not mistaken his road. - -'It's me, sure enough, my old Bonnaire,' he replied; 'and since you are -still alive, though you are ten years older than I, I have certainly a -right to be alive also--though it's true that I'm very battered.' - -Then, in the jeering tone of former times, he resumed: 'So you give me -your word for it, that splendid big garden yonder, with those pretty -houses, is really Beauclair? Well, since I've got here, I've only to -look for an inn where they'll let me sleep in a corner of the stables.' - -Why had he come back? What plans were rife under that bald skull, -behind that wrinkled face, ravaged by so many years of evil and -vagabond life? Bonnaire, who grew more and more anxious, could already -picture Ragu disturbing the festival on the morrow by some scandal or -other. He dared not question him at once, but he felt that it would -be best to have him in his charge. Moreover, he was full of pity; his -heart was quite stirred at finding the unhappy man in such a state of -destitution. - -'There are no more inns,' he answered; 'you will have to come to my -place. You'll be able to eat as much as you like there, and you will -sleep in a comfortable bed. Then we can have a chat. You'll tell me -what you want, and I'll help you to content yourself if possible.' - -But Ragu jeered again: 'Oh! what I want,' he retorted--'why, the wishes -of an old beggar like me, more or less infirm, are of no account at -all. What I want, indeed! Why, I wanted to see you all again, to give a -glance in passing at the place where I was born. The idea worried me, -and I shouldn't have died easy in mind if I hadn't come for a stroll in -this direction. That's a thing anybody may do, isn't it? The roads are -still free.' - -'No doubt.' - -'Well, so I started--oh! years ago. When a man's got bad legs and never -a copper, he doesn't make much progress. All the same, one reaches -one's destination at last, since here I am. And, it's understood, let's -go to your place, since you offer me hospitality like a good comrade.' - -The night was falling, and the two old men were able to cross new -Beauclair without being remarked. On the way Ragu's astonishment -increased; he glanced to right and to left, but could not recognise -a single spot. At last, when Bonnaire stopped before one of the most -charming of the dwellings, a house standing amidst a clump of fine -trees, an exclamation escaped Ragu, showing that he still retained his -ideas of former times: 'What! you've made your fortune; you've become a -_bourgeois_ now!' - -The former master-puddler began to laugh. 'No, no; I've never been -anything but a workman, and I'm only one to-day. But in a sense it's -true that we've all made our fortunes and all become _bourgeois_.' - -As if his envious fears were quieted by that answer, Ragu began to -sneer once more: 'A workman can't be a _bourgeois_,' said he, 'and if a -man still works it's because he hasn't made his fortune.' - -'All right, my good fellow, we'll have a chat about it, and I'll -explain things to you. Meantime go in, go in.' - -Bonnaire for the time being was dwelling alone in this house, which was -that of his granddaughter, Claudine, now the wife of Charles Froment. -Daddy Lunot had long since been dead, and his daughter, Ragu's sister, -the terrible Toupe, had followed him to his grave during the previous -year, after a frightful quarrel, which, as she expressed it, had turned -her blood. When Ragu heard of the loss of his sister and father, he -simply made a little gesture, as if to say that by reason of their age -he had anticipated it. After an absence of half a century one is not -surprised to find nobody one knew left among the living. - -'So here we are in the house of my granddaughter, Claudine,' continued -Bonnaire; 'she's the daughter of my eldest son, Lucien, who married -Louise Mazelle, the daughter of the Rentiers, whom you must remember. -Claudine herself has married Charles Froment, a son of the master of -La Crêcherie. But she and Charles have taken their daughter Aline, a -little girl of eight, to see an aunt at Formeries, and they won't be -back till to-morrow evening.' Then he concluded gaily: 'For some months -now the children have taken me to live with them, by way of petting me. -Come, the house is ours; you must eat and drink your fill, and then -I'll show you to your bed. To-morrow, when it's daylight, we'll see to -all the rest.' - -Ragu's head swam as he listened. All those names, those marriages, -those three generations flitting by at a gallop quite scared him. How -was he ever to understand things when so many unknown events and so -many marriages and births had taken place? He did not speak again, but, -seated at a well-spread table, ate some cold meat and fruit ravenously -in the gay room, which was brilliantly illumined by an electric lamp. -The comfort and ease which he felt around him must have weighed heavily -upon the old vagabond's shoulders, for he seemed yet more aged, more -utterly 'done for,' as with his face lowered over his plate he devoured -the food, glancing askance the while at all the encompassing happiness -in which he had no share. His very silence, his downcast mien at the -sight of so much comfort, was expressive of all his long stored-up -rancour, his powerless thirst for vengeance, his now irrealisable dream -of triumphing and seeing disaster fall on others. And Bonnaire, again -uneasy at the sight of his gloominess, wondered through what adventures -he had rolled during the last half-century, and felt more and more -astonished at finding him still alive and in such destitution. - -'Where have you come from?' he ended by inquiring. - -'Oh, from everywhere more or less!' Ragu answered with a sweeping -gesture. - -'Ah! so you've seen a good many countries and people and things?' - -'Oh, yes; in France, Germany, England and America, and elsewhere. I've -dragged my carcase, indeed, from one end of the world to the other.' - -Then, lighting his pipe, he gave Bonnaire, before retiring to bed, -some idea of his life as a wanderer, in rebellion against work, idle -by nature and coveting enjoyment. He typified the spoilt fruit of the -wage-system--the wage-earner who dreams of suppressing the masters in -order to take their place, and in his turn crush down his fellows. In -his estimation there could be no other happiness than that of making a -big fortune and enjoying it, with the satisfaction that one had known -how to exploit the misery of the poor. And, violent in language, but -all the same cowardly in the master's presence, dishonest, addicted -to drink, and incapable of steady work, he had rolled from workshop -to workshop, from country to country, at times dismissed, at others -impelled by some silly whim to take himself off. He had never been -able to put a copper by, wherever he had found himself want had become -his companion, each succeeding year bringing about a fresh decline in -his fortunes. When old age arrived it was a wonder that he did not -die, famished and forsaken, in some gutter. Until he was nearly sixty, -however, he had still found some petty jobs to do. Then he had stranded -in a hospital, but had been obliged to leave it, though only to fall -into another one. For the last fifteen years he had thus been clinging -to life--how, he could hardly tell; and now he begged and tramped the -roads for the crust of bread and truss of straw that he needed. And -nothing of his old nature had departed from him, neither his covert -rage and jealousy, nor his eager desire to be a master and enjoy -himself. - -Restraining a flood of questions which rose to his lips, Bonnaire at -last exclaimed, 'But all the countries you passed through must now be -in a state of revolution! I know very well that we have progressed -quickly here, and are in advance of the others. But the whole world is -now stirring, is it not?' - -'Yes, yes,' Ragu answered in his jeering way, 'they are fighting and -building up a new society on all sides, but all that did not prevent me -from starving.' - -He had passed through strikes and terrible risings in Germany, in -England, and especially in the United States. In all the countries -through which his rancour and idleness had carried him, he had -witnessed tragic events. The last empires were crumbling, republics -were springing up in their place, while frontiers were being suppressed -by the confederation of neighbouring nations. It was like a smash -up of the ice at the advent of springtide, when the ice melts and -disappears, uncovering the fertilised soil, where germs sprout and -flower forth in a few days, under the glow of the great brotherly sun. -All mankind was certainly in evolution, busying itself at last with the -foundation of the happy city. But he, Ragu, bad workman, discontented -reveller that he was, had simply suffered from all the catastrophes he -had witnessed, merely encountering blows therein without ever finding -an opportunity even to pillage a rich man's cellar, and, for once in -his life, drink his fill. Nowadays, having become a confirmed old -vagabond and beggar, he cared not a curse for the so-called city of -justice and peace. It would not bring him back his twentieth birthday, -it would not give him a palace full of slaves, where he might have -ended his days amidst a round of pleasures, like the kings that books -speak of. And he jeered bitterly at the idiocy of the human race which -took so much trouble to prepare a somewhat cleaner social edifice for -the great-grandchildren of the next century--an edifice which the men -of nowadays would only know in dreams! - -'But that dream has long sufficed for happiness,' quietly said -Bonnaire. 'However, what you say is not true, the edifice is almost -rebuilt even now, and is very beautiful and healthy and gay. I will -show it to you to-morrow, and you will see if one does not taste -pleasure in dwelling in it.' - -Then he explained that on the following day he would take Ragu to -witness one of the four Festivals of Work, which filled Beauclair with -delight on the first day of each season. Each of these festivals was -marked by some particular rejoicings appropriate to the seasons. The -one on the morrow, the summer festival, would be bright with all the -flowers and fruits of the earth, overflowing in prodigious abundance, -amidst the sovereign splendour of horizon and sky, in which the -powerful sun of June would blaze. - -Ragu, however, relapsed into gloomy anxiety, a covert fear, indeed, -lest he should really find the ancient dream of social happiness -fulfilled at Beauclair. Was it a fact then that after traversing -so many countries where the society of to-morrow was coming forth -amidst such frightful struggles--was it a fact that he would behold -it virtually installed in that town, his own, whence he had fled on a -day of murderous madness? Had that happiness, for which he had sought -so frantically on all sides, come into being on his native spot, -during his absence? Had he returned merely to behold the felicity of -others, now that he himself could no longer expect any joy in life? The -idea that he had spoilt his existence to the very end seemed to him -like a supreme crushing blow amidst his misery and weariness whilst -he sat there silently finishing the bottle of wine which had been -placed before him. And when Bonnaire rose to show him to his room--a -sweet-smelling white room with a large white bed in it--he followed -with a heavy step, suffering from the open-handed brotherly hospitality -offered to him with such happy ease. - -'Sleep well, my good fellow,' said Bonnaire, 'till to-morrow morning!' - -'Yes, till to-morrow--unless this cursed world should fall to pieces -during the night.' - -Bonnaire, who also went to bed, found some difficulty in getting to -sleep, for he still felt worried with respect to Ragu's intentions. He -had a dozen times resisted his desire to put plain questions to him on -the subject, from fear of provoking some dangerous explanation; for he -thought it might be preferable to keep the matter in reserve and act -hereafter according to circumstances. He feared some frightful scene; -for perhaps that wretched vagabond, maddened by want and disaster, -might have come back in order to provoke a scandal, insult Luc, insult -Josine, and even attempt murder again. Bonnaire therefore resolved -that he would not leave him alone for a moment on the following day. -Moreover, in his desire to show him everything at Beauclair, there -was the hope of morally paralysing him by an exhibition of such an -abundance of wealth and power as would make him realise how futile -would be the rage and rebellion of any one individual. When he should -have seen and learnt everything he would no longer dare to stir, his -defeat would be definitive. And thus Bonnaire at last fell asleep, -resolved on waging that final battle for the sake of general harmony, -peace, and love. - -Already at six o'clock on the following morning a joyous flourish of -trumpets sped over the roofs of Beauclair, announcing the Festival of -Work. The sun was already high in the beautiful blue heavens. Windows -opened, greetings flew through the greenery from one house to another, -and one could feel that joy was already stirring the soul of the city, -whilst the trumpet calls continued, arousing from garden to garden the -cries of children and the laughter of loving couples. - -Bonnaire, having quickly dressed himself, found Ragu up, washed and -clad in some clean garments, which had been laid for him the previous -evening on a chair. Now that he had well rested, the vagabond had -become quite the jeerer of former days, resolved upon deriding -everything and refusing to acknowledge the existence of the slightest -progress. On seeing his host enter he indulged once more in his old -evil insulting laugh. - -'I say, old man!' he exclaimed, 'what a row they make with those -trumpets! That must be precious disagreeable for those who don't like -to be startled out of their sleep. Are you wakened every morning in -your barracks by that music?' - -The old master-puddler preferred to find his guest in this mood. He -smiled quietly, and answered: 'No, no, that's only the _réveil_ of our -high days and holidays. On other mornings one can oversleep oneself if -one chooses, for the quiet is delightful. But when life's so pleasant -one always gets up early, and only the infirm regret having to lie in -bed.' - -Then, with his attentive kindness, he added: 'Have you slept well? Did -you find everything you wanted?' - -Ragu tried to make himself disagreeable again. 'Oh! I can sleep -anywhere,' said he. 'For years past I've been sleeping among hayricks, -and they are worth the best beds in the world. It's just the same as -regards all those inventions you have here--baths, and cold and hot -water taps, and electrical heating appliances, which you only have to -switch on. They may be useful, no doubt, when one's in a hurry, but -it's still preferable to wash in the river and warm oneself before -a good old stove.' And, as his host did not reply, he concluded by -saying: 'You have too much water in your houses, they must be damp!' - -What blasphemy! The idea of it, those streaming beneficent waters, so -pure and so fresh, which were now the very health and joy and strength -of Beauclair, whose streets and gardens they bathed as with eternal -youth! - -'Our water is our friend, the good fairy of our happy destiny,' -Bonnaire replied. 'You will see it gushing forth on every side and -fertilising our city. But come and have some breakfast; we will go out -directly afterwards.' - -That first breakfast in the bright dining-room, illumined by the -rising sun, was delightful. On the white cloth there were eggs, milk, -and fruit, with bread which was so golden and smelt so sweet that one -could divine it had been kneaded by carefully worked machinery for a -happy people. And the old host lavished on his wretched guest the most -delicate attentions, a simple and affectionate hospitality, which set -an atmosphere of gentleness and kindness all around. - -Whilst they ate they again began to chat. As on the previous evening, -Bonnaire prudently refrained from asking Ragu any direct questions. Yet -he felt persuaded that the other, after the fashion of all criminals, -had returned to the scene of his crime, consumed by an invincible -craving to behold it again and know what had taken place during his -absence. Was Josine still alive, and if so what was she doing? Had Luc -been saved from death, and had he taken her to live with him? At all -events, what had become of them both? Surely it was an ardent curiosity -with respect to all those matters which glittered in the vagabond's -bright eyes. As he did not mention them, however--preferring apparently -to keep his secret locked within him--Bonnaire had to content himself -with putting into execution the plan which he had thought of the -previous night. Without mentioning Luc's name he began to explain the -greatness of his work. - -'For you to understand things properly, my good fellow,' said he, 'it's -necessary that I should tell you something about our position before we -take a stroll through Beauclair. We have now got to the triumph, the -full florescence of the movement, which was scarcely beginning when you -went away.' - -Then he reverted to the origin of the evolution, the establishment of -the works of La Crêcherie, based on an association between capital, -labour, and brains, and its struggle with the Abyss, where the -barbarous wage-system had been enforced. At last the latter had been -vanquished and replaced, and La Crêcherie, with its pleasant white -houses, had gradually spread over the site of Old Beauclair, the -wretched home of want. Then Bonnaire showed how, both in a spirit of -imitation and by reason of the necessities of the position, all the -neighbouring works had ended by joining the original association; and -how in due course other groups had been formed, every calling of a -similar kind gradually being syndicated together, every family, as -it were, meeting and uniting. Then the co-operation of producers on -the one hand and of consumers on the other had completed the victory, -work being reorganised on a basis of human solidarity, and bringing -in its train a new form of society. There was now only four hours' -work a day, and it was work freely chosen and constantly varied, in -order that it might remain attractive; whilst machinery, the enemy of -former days, had at present become a docile slave, upon whom all great -efforts were cast. Then, moreover, the co-operation of consumers had -swept away old-time trade, which had simply absorbed so much energy -and gain. Huge general stores centralised products of all kinds, and -distributed them according to consumers' needs, and in this manner -millions of money were saved, agiotage and theft abstracting nothing -on the way. Indeed, life was becoming greatly simplified: there was a -tendency towards the complete suppression of specie and the closing of -law courts and prisons; for disputes on matters of private interest -ceased, and no longer urged man against man in some mad fit of fraud, -pillage, or murder. Why should there be any crime left since there were -no more poor, no more disinherited ones, since brotherly peace was -being established more and more firmly every day, all being at last -convinced that individual happiness came from the happiness of all? A -long peace reigned, the blood tax--the conscription--had disappeared -like all other taxes; there were no longer any rates of any kind or -any prohibitive laws, but in lieu thereof full liberty for production -and exchange. And in particular, since the parasites--the innumerable -_employés_, functionaries, magistrates, barrack-men, and churchmen--had -been suppressed, the greatest wealth had set in, such a prodigious heap -of riches accumulating that from year to year the granaries became too -small and threatened to burst beneath the ever-growing abundance of the -public fortune. - -'That's all right,' interrupted Ragu when Bonnaire had reached this -point. 'But all the same, the real pleasure is to do nothing; and if -you still work you are not a gentleman. To my idea there's no getting -away from that. Besides, in one manner or another you are still paid, -so that you still have a wage-system. But you are converted, eh?--you, -who always demanded the absolute destruction of capital?' - -Bonnaire laughed with joyous frankness. 'It's true, they've ended by -converting me,' he said. 'I believed in the necessity of a sudden -revolution, some stroke which would have placed power in our hands, -together with possession of the soil and all the instruments of work. -But how can one resist the force of experience? For so many years past -I've been witnessing here the assured victory of social justice and -brotherly happiness, which I dreamt of so long! And thus patience has -come to me; I'm weak enough--if you like to put it that way--to rest -content with to-day's conquests, certain as I am of to-morrow's final -victory. Of course, I'm ready to grant that a great deal remains to -be done--our liberty and justice are not complete, capital and the -wage-system must entirely disappear, the social pact must be rid of -all forms of authority, we must have the free individual in the free -community. And we try to act in such wise that our grandchildren's -children may bring about the reign of justice and liberty in their -entirety.' - -Then he explained the new educational methods which were in force, the -working of the _crèches_, schools, and apprenticeship workshops, the -adoption and cultivation of all the forms of energy springing from -the passions, and the up-bringing of boys and girls together with -the view of drawing yet closer the ties of love on which the city's -strength would depend. The cause of greater freedom in the future -rested with the couples of to-morrow; it might be taken that each -generation growing up amidst an increase of equity and kindliness would -contribute its stone to the final edifice. Meantime, the city's wealth -would continue accumulating now that the suppression of the right of -inheritance--almost entirely accomplished--prevented the building up of -huge, scandalous, and poisonous individual fortunes; in such wise that -the prodigious output of the work of all was becoming the property of -all. Such things as the State Funds were also falling to pieces, the -Rentiers, the idlers who lived on the work of others or on egotistical -savings of their own, were disappearing. All citizens were equally -rich, since the city--overflowing with work, freed from obstacles and -hindrances, preserved from waste and theft--was piling up such immense -wealth, that production would assuredly some day have to be moderated. -Enjoyments once reserved for a few privileged beings were to-day -already within the reach of all, and if family life remained simple the -public edifices had become wonderfully sumptuous, large enough to hold -huge multitudes, and so charming and so commodious as to be indeed true -palaces of the people, centres of enjoyment where it loved to live. -There were museums, and libraries, theatres, bathing establishments, -places for diversions of one and another kind, together with simple -'porches,' opening out of meeting and lecture halls which the whole -town frequented in its hours of rest. There was also a great number of -hospitals, special isolated hospitals, for each kind of disease, and -asylums which the infirm and the aged could enter freely; others, too, -particularly for mothers and children, for pregnant women, who were -carefully nursed from an early stage until their babes were born, and -they themselves had fully recovered their strength. In this wise the -new city affirmed its faith in motherhood and childhood--the mother -who is the source of eternal life, the child who is the victorious -messenger of the future. - -'And now,' Bonnaire gaily concluded, 'since you have finished -breakfast, let us go to see all those fine things, our Beauclair in its -festive gaiety. I shan't spare you a single interesting nook of it.' - -At this Ragu, who had resolved upon no surrender, simply shrugged his -shoulders, repeating what he deemed to be his decisive argument: 'As -you like; but all the same you are not gentlemen, you are still poor -devils if you still work. Work's your master, and, when all's said, -you've remained a people of slaves.' - -At the door of the house a little electric car with accommodation for -two persons was waiting. Similar cars were at the disposal of all. The -old master-puddler, who, despite his advanced years, had retained a -clear eyesight and a firm hand, made his companion get in, and then -took his own seat as driver. - -'You don't mean to cripple me for good with this mechanism, eh?' asked -Ragu. - -'No, no, don't be alarmed. We get on very well together, electricity -and I,' Bonnaire replied, adding: 'You will find it everywhere; it is -the one force which drives our machinery, and it is in general use in -our homes, just like a domestic servant. Oh! it has been necessary to -produce it in incalculable quantities, and yet it seems that there's -not enough, and that the former master of La Crêcherie is trying to -provide us with a still larger supply, in order that we may have -something like a planet blazing over Beauclair at night-time, and live -amidst the glow of eternal day.' - -He laughed at this idea of putting all darkness to flight, whilst -the car glided rapidly along the broad avenues. Before exploring -Beauclair he proposed to go as far as Les Combettes, in order to show -his companion the magnificent estate which was changing La Roumagne -into a paradise of fertility. The festive morning was bright with -sunshine, the roads resounded with gaiety, laughter and songs arising -from all the other electric cars which were continually met on the -way. A great many foot passengers were also arriving from neighbouring -villages, mostly in bands, lads and girls brave in their ribbons, who -joyously saluted Bonnaire the patriarch. And on either side of the -road stretched a perfect sea of grain. Instead of the old-time narrow -patches of ground, badly manured and badly tilled, one found but -one sole, huge field, richly cultivated by thousands of associates. -Whenever the soil showed sign of impoverishment, the properties it -lacked were imparted to it by a chemical dressing; it was warmed, -too, and screened, and high cultivation brought forth two crops of -vegetables and fruit each season. Thanks to machinery, man was spared -many efforts: the harvests sprang up as if by enchantment over leagues -and leagues of ploughed land. It was even said that one would become -master of the clouds, directing them upon one or another point at one's -will by means of electric currents, in such wise as to obtain days of -rain or days of sunshine, according to the needs of cultivation. - -'You see, my good fellow,' resumed Bonnaire with a sweeping gesture, -'we have the wherewithal for bread--bread for all, the bread to which -each acquires a right as soon as he is born.' - -'So you feed even those who don't work?' asked Ragu. - -'Certainly we do; but with very few exceptions only the sick and the -infirm refrain from working. When one's in good health it bores one too -much to remain doing nothing.' - -The car was now traversing some orchards, and the endless rows of -cherry trees covered with red fruit presented a delightful spectacle. -The apricots, farther on, were not yet ripe, and green was the fruit -which weighed down the apple and pear trees. Nevertheless there was -extraordinary abundance, enough dessert indeed for a whole nation until -the ensuing spring. But they were at last reaching Les Combettes. -The sordid village of former days had disappeared, and white houses -had been built among the greenery alongside the Grand-Jean, the once -filthy stream, which was now canalised, its pure water contributing to -all the surrounding fertility. One no longer beheld the country side -of the old times, all abandonment, dirt, and wretchedness, in which -the peasantry had wallowed for centuries with the obstinacy born of -routine and hatred of each other. The spirit of truth and liberty had -visited that spot, and an evolution had set in towards science and -harmony, enlightening minds, reconciling hearts, and bringing health, -wealth, and joy in its train. Since all had consented to co-operate the -happiness of each had come into being. - -'You remember old Combettes,' said Bonnaire, 'the hovels standing in -mud and dung, and the fierce-looking peasants, who complained of dying -of starvation? See what association has done for all that!' - -In his savage jealousy, however, Ragu would not let himself be -convinced. With that hatred of work which had remained in his blood, -the hereditary hatred of a wage-earner chained to toil, he replied: -'If they work they are not happy. Their happiness is mendacious; the -sovereign enjoyment is to do nothing.' And though in former times he -had often reviled the priests, he now added: 'Doesn't the catechism say -that work is man's punishment and mark of degradation? When once one -gets to heaven one has nothing to do there.' - -On the way back to Beauclair the car passed La Guerdache, which was now -enlarged, and whose grounds were full of young mothers, their babes, -and playful children. But even the sight of that palace of the people -and its beautiful park did not influence Ragu. 'After all, what's the -value of luxury and enjoyment which everybody can share?' said he. 'A -thing that one can't have entirely to oneself isn't worth much.' - -However, the little car was still speeding along, and they soon found -themselves in Beauclair once more. The town, as Ragu had remarked on -first perceiving it, did indeed present the aspect of a large garden. -The houses, instead of being pressed close one to the other, as in the -days of tyranny and terror, seemed to have dispersed in order that -their inmates might enjoy more freedom, quietude, and health. Land -cost nothing since all had been put in common from one to the other -promontory of the Bleuse Mountains. Why, therefore, should folk have -heaped themselves together when the whole great plain spread before -them? Are a few thousand square yards of land too much for a family -when so many immense tracts of the earth are absolutely uninhabited? -Thus, each family had chosen its lot, and had built according to its -fancy. Broad avenues ran past the gardens, supplying abundant means -of communication, but people were not required to build their houses -in line; they simply set them amongst the trees in the manner they -pleased. Still, the dwellings had a family aspect, for all were clean -and gay, and decorated with stoneware and faïence of bright colours, -enamelled tiles, and so forth, which formed gables, borders, panels, -friezes, and cornices, the convolvulus-blue, the dandelion-yellow, -and the poppy-red of all this ornamentation imparting to the houses -much the appearance of huge nosegays amidst the verdure of the trees. -Then, on the squares, at the points where the avenues met, rose the -many public buildings, huge piles in which triumphed steel and iron. -Their magnificence was compounded of simplicity, of logical fitness for -the purpose for which they were intended, and of intelligence in the -choice of materials and style of decoration. In these buildings it was -intended that the people should be at home; the museums, libraries, -theatres, baths, laboratories, meeting and amusement halls were but -so many common-houses, open to the entire community. Moreover, some -portions of the avenues were already being covered with glass, and it -was proposed to warm them in winter, so as to enable people to stroll -there in comfort during cold and rainy weather. - -Ragu gave so many signs of surprise, and seemed so lost, that Bonnaire -began to laugh. 'Ah! it isn't easy to identify the place,' said he, -'but we are now on the old Place de la Mairie, whence started the four -great thoroughfares--the Rue de Brias, the Rue de Formeries, the Rue de -Saint-Cron, and the Rue de Magnolles. Only, as the old town-hall was -falling to pieces from sheer rottenness, it was demolished, together -with the old schools, where the boys learned to spell under the -master's rod. And now, you see, there is a series of large pavilions, -chemical and physical laboratories, where all are free to study and -experiment when they think they have made some discovery which may -prove useful to the community. Then, too, the four streets have been -transformed, their hovels have been swept away, and little of them -remains save the gardens and houses of the gentlefolk, in which sundry -marriages have ended by placing the children of the poor devils of -former times.' - -Then Bonnaire went on to explain other transformations brought about -by the victory of the new social system. For instance, although the -sub-prefecture had been preserved and two wings had even been added to -it, it had been converted into a public library. In the same way the -law-courts had become a museum, whilst it had been possible at no very -great cost to turn the prison with its cells into a bath-house where -water abounded. Then there was the garden, which had been planted on -the site of the fallen church--a garden where some fine shady verdure -already arose around a little lake which now filled the ancient -underground crypt. In this wise, as the various forms of authority -disappeared, the buildings once allotted to them had reverted to the -people, who had disposed of them in such a manner as to increase their -own comfort and enjoyment. - -However, whilst the car was ascending another fine long avenue Ragu -again felt lost, and inquired of his guide: 'Where are we now?' - -'In the old Rue de Brias,' Bonnaire answered. 'Ah! its aspect has -greatly changed. Petty trade having completely disappeared, the shops -shut up one after the other, and at last the old houses were demolished -to make room for those new ones which smile so pleasantly among the -hawthorns and lilac bushes. The Clouque, that poisonous sewer, has been -covered up, and the side walk of this avenue, on the right, passes over -it.' - -He went on recalling the narrow, dark Rue de Brias of former times, -with its ever-muddy pavement, over which weary workers had trudged day -by day. Hunger and prostitution had prowled there at night, whilst -poor housewives went from shop to shop to beg a petty credit. There -had reigned the Laboques, levying tribute on all purchasers, whilst -Caffiaux poisoned the workers with doctored alcohol, and Dacheux kept -jealous watch over his meat, holy meat--the chosen food of the wealthy. -Only the beautiful Madame Mitaine had been willing to close her eyes -when a loaf or two happened to disappear from her shop-front on the -days when the street urchins were unable to restrain their hunger. But -now all the misery and suffering had been swept away, and the avenue -ascended, broad, clean, and flooded with sunlight, with only the houses -of happy workers upon either hand, whilst the multitude strolled about -laughing and singing on that bright festive morning. - -'But if La Clouque flow's under that grassy bank,' exclaimed Ragu -suddenly, 'Old Beauclair must have been over yonder, on the site of -that new park, where the white house-fronts are peeping out of the -greenery?' - -And this time he remained aghast. The spot he mentioned had indeed -been Old Beauclair, the sordid mass of hovels spread out like an -evil-smelling stagnant pond, with its streets lacking both light and -air, and infected by their open drains. He particularly remembered the -Rue des Trois Lunes, the darkest, narrowest, and filthiest of them all. -But the blast of avenging justice had purified the spot, carried away -the abominable cloaca, and in place thereof had set that greenery, -amidst which had sprung dwellings of health and joy. - -Bonnaire, amused by Ragu's astonishment, now drove him more slowly -along the new thoroughfares of the happy City of Work. In honour of -that day of rejoicing all the houses were gay with bunting; bright -oriflammes flapped in the light morning breeze, and vivid drapery -hung about doors and windows. The thresholds of the houses, too, were -covered with roses, the streets even were bestrewn with them; such -an abundance of roses being grown in the vast plantations of the -neighbourhood that the whole town was able to adorn itself with them, -like a woman on her bridal morn. Music resounded on all sides, the -chorus singing of maids and youths flew past in sonorous waves, whilst -the pure voices of the children soared aloft to the very sun itself. It -seemed as if the limpid and rejoicing orb were also participating in -the festival, as it cast great sheets of gold under the sky's sumptuous -tent, so aerial and silken, and so delightfully blue. All the people -were now flocking into the streets, arrayed in light-coloured garments -adorned with beautiful stuffs, which had once been so dear and which -were now at the disposal of all. New fashions, very simple in their -magnificence, made the women look adorable. Gold--since money had -gradually disappeared--was now simply used for purposes of adornment. -Each little girl that was born found in her cradle her necklets, her -bracelets, and her rings, even as the little ones of former days had -found their toys. But jewellery now had no value, gold had simply -become so much beauty. And, moreover, the electrical furnaces were -about to produce incalculable quantities of diamonds and precious -stones, sacks of rubies, emeralds, and sapphires--gems enough, indeed, -to cover all the women of the world. The maids who passed hanging on -their lovers' arms already had their hair adorned with constellations -of flashing stars. And there was an endless procession of couples, -those whom love in its freedom had just betrothed; the young folk -of twenty, too, who had recently mated and were never more to part; -and those also who had grown old amidst mutual affection, and whose -hand-clasp had tightened with each succeeding year. - -'Where are they all going like that?' Ragu at last inquired. - -'Oh! they are calling on one another,' Bonnaire answered, 'inviting -one another to the grand dinner which is to be given this evening, -and which you will attend. And many are just strolling about in the -sunshine for the love of the thing, because they feel gay and at home -in our beautiful brotherly streets. Besides, there are entertainments -and games on all sides, with admission gratis, of course, for one may -freely enter all our public establishments. Those parties of children -are being taken to one or another circus, and others of the crowd are -going to meetings, theatrical performances, and concerts. Our theatres, -you know, enter into our system of social education.' - -Then, all at once, on reaching a house whose occupiers, it seemed, were -about to go out, Bonnaire stopped the car. 'Would you like to visit -one of our new houses?' he asked. 'This is where my grandson Félicien -lives, and as we have just caught him at home, he will receive us.' - -Félicien was the son of Séverin Bonnaire, who had married Léonie, -the daughter of Ma-Bleue and Achille Gourier. He, Félicien, only -a fortnight previously had for his part espoused Hélène Jollivet, -daughter of André Jollivet and Pauline Froment. But when Bonnaire -wished to explain those relationships to Ragu, the latter made -the gesture of a man who feels quite lost amidst such a tangle of -alliances. The young people were charming--the wife very young and -adorably fair; the husband also fair, and tall and strong. Love -perfumed all the bright, gay, simple, yet elegantly furnished rooms -of their home, which, like the streets, was that day full of roses; -for it seemed as if roses had rained upon Beauclair--there were some -everywhere, even on the roofs. The whole house was visited, and then -they returned to a room which served as a workshop--a large, square -apartment, where an electrical motor was installed. Besides following -three or four other callings, Félicien was by taste a metal-turner, and -preferred to work at this avocation in his own home. Several of his -comrades, young men of his own age, were similarly inclined, and a new -movement was thus arising among the generation just reaching manhood. -One found the worker on a small scale following some calling at home -in all freedom, irrespective of work in the great general workshops. -For these individual artisans the supply of electric power, which they -found in their homes even as they found water there, was of wonderful -assistance. Home-work under such conditions proved easy, and clean, and -light, and some houses were gradually becoming family workshops and -tending to the realisation of the formula: The free workman in the free -city. - -'Till this evening, my children,' said Bonnaire, taking leave. 'Shall -you dine at our table?' - -'Oh! it's impossible this time, grandfather,' was the reply; 'we have -our places at grandmother Morfain's table. But we shall see one another -at dessert.' - -Ragu took his seat in the car again without speaking a word. He had -remained silent throughout the visit, though for a moment he had paused -before the little motor. At last, he once again managed to throw off -the emotion which he had felt in the midst of so much comfort and -happiness. - -'Come,' he exclaimed, 'can one call those the houses of well-to-do -_bourgeois_, when there's machinery in the largest room? I grant that -your men are better lodged, and have more enjoyment, since want has -disappeared. But they are still workmen, mercenaries condemned to -labour! In the old days there were at least a few happy, privileged -folk who did nothing. All your progress consists in reducing the entire -community to common slavery!' - -At this despairing cry from that devotee of sloth, whose religion -was fast crumbling, Bonnaire gently shrugged his shoulders. 'One -must understand, my good fellow,' said he, 'what it is that you call -slavery. If it be slavery to breathe and eat and sleep--in a word, to -live--why, then work is slavery. But if you live you must necessarily -work; one cannot live an hour without doing work of some kind. However, -we'll talk of all that by-and-by. For the present let us go home to -lunch, and we'll spend the afternoon in visiting the workshops and the -stores.' - -After their meal, indeed, they went out again, but this time on foot, -walking along leisurely. They crossed the entire works, all the -sunlit halls, where the steel and copper of the new machinery shone -like jewels in the bright radiance. That morning, moreover, some of -the workers--parties of youths and girls--had come to decorate the -machinery with garlands of verdure and roses; for was it not right that -it should participate in the festival of work, powerful, gentle, and -docile artisan that it was, bringing relief both to man and to beast? -And nothing could have been gayer or more touching. The roses that -adorned the presses, the huge hammers, the giant planing, rolling, and -turning machines, proclaimed how attractive work had become, bringing -comfort to the body and delight to the mind. Songs rang out, too, -chains were formed, and amidst general laughter quite a _farandole_ -began, spreading gradually from one hall to another, and transforming -the entire works into an immense palace of rejoicing. - -Ragu, who still remained impassive, walked about, raising his eyes to -the lofty windows, which were bright with sunshine, or glancing now at -the slabs under foot, and now at the walls of speckless brightness, -or else examining the machines, many of which were unknown to him. -They were huge creatures, provided with all sorts of intricate works, -in order that they might perform most of the tasks once allotted to -man, the most trying as well as the most delicate. Some had legs, -arms, feet, and hands, so that they might move, embrace, clutch, and -manipulate metal with fingers at once supple, nimble, and strong. The -new puddling furnaces, in which the 'bloom' was kneaded mechanically, -particularly struck Ragu. Was it possible that the 'bloom' came out -like that, quite ready to pass under the hammer! And then there was the -electricity that propelled the bridges, that set the huge hammers in -motion, that worked the rolling-machinery, which could have covered the -whole world with rails. On each and every side one found that sovereign -electric force. It had become like the very blood of the factory, -circulating from one to the other end of the workshops, giving life to -all things, acting as the one source of movement, heat, and light. - -'It's good, no doubt,' Ragu grunted. 'The place is very clean and very -large, and ever so much better than our dirty dens of former times, -where we found ourselves like pigs in their styes. There has certainly -been a good deal of progress; but the worry is that one hasn't yet -found a way to give each man an income of a hundred thousand francs.' - -'Oh! but we have our income of a hundred thousand francs,' retorted -Bonnaire jestingly. 'Just come and see.' - -Then he took the other to the general stores--great barns, huge -granaries, vast magazines--where all the produce and wealth of the city -was accumulated. They had been enlarged, perforce, year by year; for -one no longer knew where to store the crops, and indeed it had even -been necessary to check the production of manufactured goods, to avoid -encumbrance. Nowhere else could one better realise what an incalculable -fortune a nation might amass when all intermediaries were done away -with--the drones and the thieves, all those who had lived upon the work -of others without producing anything themselves. - -'There are our Rentes!' Bonnaire repeated; 'each of us can help himself -here without counting. And don't you think that it all represents a -hundred thousand francs' worth of happy life for each of us? We are all -equally rich, it's true, and, as you have said, that would spoil your -pleasure, fortune being nothing to you unless it be seasoned with the -misery of others. Yet it has an advantage; for one no longer incurs the -risk of being robbed or murdered some evening at a street corner, just -for the sake of gain.' - -Then he mentioned a movement that was setting in, quite apart from the -working of the general stores--that is, a movement of direct exchange -between producers, a movement which had originated among the petty -family workshops. Perhaps then the great workshops and the huge general -stores would end by disappearing in the course of the advance towards -increase of liberty: the sovereign freedom of the individual amidst the -freedom of all mankind. - -Ragu listened, more and more upset by that conquest of happiness which -he still wished to deny. And at a loss as to how he might hide the fact -that he was sorely shaken, he exclaimed: 'So you're an Anarchist now!' - -This time Bonnaire burst into noisy merriment. 'Oh! my good fellow, I -used to be a Collectivist, and you reproached me for having ceased to -be one. Now you make an Anarchist of me. But the truth is that we are -no longer anything at all since the common dream of happiness, truth, -and justice has been realised. But, now that I think of it, come a -little way with me and see something else by way of finishing up our -visit.' - -He led him to the rear of the general stores, to the base of the -mountain ridge, to the very spot, indeed, where Lange the potter had -formerly installed his rudimentary kilns in an enclosure barricaded -with dry stones. To-day a large building stood there, a manufactory of -stoneware and faïence, whence came the enamelled bricks and tiles, the -thousand bright-hued decorations which adorned the whole city. Yielding -indeed to the friendly entreaties of Luc, and seeing a little equity -arise to relieve the misery of the people, Lange had decided to take -some pupils. Since the masses were reviving to joy he would be able -to realise an old dream of his by making and scattering broadcast all -the bright earthenware, glowing like golden wheatears, cornflowers and -poppies, with which he had so long desired to enliven the house-fronts -peeping out of the garden greenery. And beauty had blossomed forth -under the touch of his big, genial hands--beauty in an admirable form -of art, coming from the people and returning to it, instinct with all -the popular primitive strength and grace. He had not renounced the -making of humble utensils, kitchen and table pottery, pans, pots, -pitchers, and plates--all exquisite in form and colour, setting the -glorious charm of art in the most commonplace daily life; but he had -each year increased his production, adorning the public buildings -with superb friezes, peopling the promenades with graceful statues, -setting up in the squares lofty fountains which looked like nosegays, -and whence the water of the springs flowed with all the freshness of -eternal youth. And the band of artists whom he had created in his own -image now set the beauty of art in the very pots which the housewives -used as receptacles for their preserves and jam. - -As it happened, Lange was at the top of the little flight of steps on -the threshold of the factory. Although he had nearly completed his -seventy-fifth year, his short squat figure had remained robust. He -still had the same rustic-looking square head, bushy with hair and -beard, now white like snow. But at present all the kindliness, long -hidden beneath his rough bark, gleamed from his eyes in clear smiles. A -party of playful children stood before him, boys and girls, who pushed -one another and stretched out their hands whilst he went on with a -distribution of little presents, as was indeed his habit every _fête_ -day. He thus apportioned among them some little clay figures modelled -with a few thumbstrokes, coloured and baked by the gross, yet very -graceful, and in some instances charmingly comical. They represented -the most simple subjects, everyday occupations, the petty incidents and -fugitive delights of the passing hour. There were children laughing -or crying, young girls attending to their household duties, men at -work--in fact, all life in its everlasting, marvellous florescence. - -'Come, come, my children,' said Lange, 'don't be in a hurry, there -are enough for all of you. Here, my pet, take this little girl who's -putting on her stockings; and for you, my lad, here's this boy coming -back from school. Ah! you little darky, yonder, take this smith with -his hammer.' - -He shouted and laughed, vastly amusing himself in the midst of all -those children, who struggled for the possession of his exquisite -little figures. - -'Ah! be careful!' he cried, 'you must not break them. Put them in your -rooms, so that you may have some pretty colours and pleasant lines -before your eyes. And in that wise when you grow up you will love -what's beautiful and good, and be handsome and good yourselves.' - -It was his theory that the people needed beauty in order to become -healthy and brotherly. Everything that surrounded them, particularly -all objects of current use--utensils, furniture, and dwellings--ought -to suggest beauty. And belief in the superiority of aristocratic art -was imbecile. The greatest, most touching and most human art was that -into which most life entered. Moreover, the work that proved immortal -and defied the centuries was one that sprang from the multitude and -summed up for it an epoch or a civilisation. And it was ever from the -people that art flowered forth in order that it might embellish the -people themselves and impart to them the perfume and the radiance which -were as necessary to their life as was daily bread. - -'Ah! here's a peasant reaping, and a woman washing linen. Take that -one, my big lassie; and you, my little man, there's one for you. Well, -it's over now. Mind you are very good; kiss your mammas and papas for -me. Ah! my little lambs, my little chicks, life is beautiful, life is -good!' - -Ragu had listened motionless and silent, but he was evidently more -and more surprised. At last, with a ferocious sneer he exploded: 'Ah! -Master Anarchist!' said he, 'so you no longer talk of blowing up the -whole show, eh?' - -Lange turned sharply and looked at Ragu without recognising him. -However, he displayed no anger, but simply began to laugh again: 'Ah! -so you know me,' he said, 'though what your name is I can't remember. -Well, yes, it's true, I did wish to blow up the whole show. I cried -it everywhere, to all the winds of the sky, and I heaped malediction -after malediction upon the accursed city, announcing its approaching -destruction by iron and fire. I had even resolved to do justice myself -and raze Beauclair as by lightning. But things turned out otherwise. -Enough justice came to disarm me. The town was purified, and rebuilt, -and I can't destroy it now that all I wanted, all I dreamt of, is being -realised--isn't that so, Bonnaire; we've made peace, eh?' - -Thereupon Lange, the former Anarchist, held out his hand to the -ex-Collectivist with whom he had once had such bitter quarrels: 'We -were ready to eat one another, were we not, Bonnaire?' he resumed. 'We -agreed as to the city of liberty, equity, and cordial understanding -which we wished to reach; only we differed as to the best road to -follow, and those who thought that they ought to turn to the right were -ready to massacre those who showed a desire to turn to the left. But -now that we've all reached our destination, it would be too stupid of -us to continue quarrelling. Is that not so, Bonnaire? As I said before, -peace is made.' - -Bonnaire, who had retained the potter's hand in his grasp, pressed and -shook it affectionately. - -'Yes, yes, Lange,' he replied; 'we did wrong in not coming to an -understanding, it was perhaps that which prevented us from making -progress. Or perhaps we were all right, since now here we are, hand in -hand, willing to admit that at bottom we all wanted the same thing.' - -'And if things are not yet altogether such as absolute justice would -require,' Lange resumed, 'we can rely on those lads and lassies to -continue the work and some day finish it. You hear, my little chicks, -my little lambs, love each other well.' - -The shouting and laughing was beginning afresh, when Ragu in his brutal -fashion intervened once more: 'But I say, you spoilt Anarchist, what -about your Barefeet, have you made her your wife, eh?' - -Tears started to Lange's eyes. Nearly twenty years previously the -tall and beautiful creature whom he had compassionately picked up on -the roads, and who had worshipped him like a slave, had died in his -arms, the victim of a frightful and mysterious accident. He had spoken -of an explosion in one of his kilns, saying that its iron door had -been carried away, and had struck Barefeet full in the bosom. But the -truth was assuredly different. She had assisted him in his experiments -with explosives, and must have been struck down during some attempts -to charge those famous little 'stock-pots,' of which he had spoken -so complacently, intending to deposit them at the town-hall, the -sub-prefecture, the law-courts--in all the places, indeed, where there -was any form of authority to be destroyed. For months and for years -that tragic death had made Lange's heart bleed, and even nowadays, -after the attainment of so much happiness, he still wept for the loss -of that gentle yet impassioned woman who, in return for the alms of -a piece of bread, had for ever bestowed on him the royal gift of her -beauty. - -He strode roughly towards Ragu: 'You are a bad man,' he cried, 'why do -you stab me in the heart like that? Who are you? Where have you sprung -from? Don't you know that my dear wife is dead, and that every evening -I still ask her forgiveness, accusing myself of having caused her -death? If I haven't become a bad man, I owe it to her dear memory, for -she is always with me, she is my good counsellor. But you, you are a -bad man, I don't want to recognise you, I don't want to know your name. -Go away, go away from our city!' - -He was superb in his dolorous violence. The poetic spirit that dwelt -within his rugged form, and which had formerly manifested itself in -vengeful flights of fancy of a sombre grandeur, had now softened, -tempering his heart with infinite quivering kindliness. - -'Have you recognised him then?' asked Bonnaire anxiously. 'Who is he? -Tell me.' - -'I do not wish to recognise him,' Lange repeated yet more rigorously. -'I shall not say anything--let him go his way, let him go his way at -once! He isn't fit to be one of us.' - -Thereupon Bonnaire, feeling convinced that the potter had recognised -Ragu, gently led the latter away in order to avoid any painful -explanations. For his part Ragu evinced no desire to linger and -quarrel, but retired in silence. All that he had seen and heard had -dealt him blow after blow in the heart, filling him with bitter regret -and boundless envy. He had begun to stagger beneath the shock of that -happiness, in which he had not, and would never have, the slightest -part. - -But it was particularly the aspect of Beauclair in the evening that -upset him. It had become a custom for each family to set its table in -the street and dine there on that first day of summer. The repast was -like a fraternal communion of the whole city, the bread was broken, -and the wine was drunk in public, and the tables were at last brought -together in such wise that they formed but one table, the whole town -changing into a vast banqueting-hall, where the people became one sole -family. - -At seven o'clock, whilst the sun was still shining, the tables were -set out, decorated with roses, that rain of roses which had perfumed -Beauclair ever since the morning. The white cloths, the decorated -crockery, the glass and the silver reflected the purple glow of the -sunset. As silver money, like gold money, was fast disappearing, each -now had his or her silver goblet, even as in olden time one had goblets -or mugs of pewter. And Bonnaire insisted on Ragu taking his seat at his -table, or rather at that of his granddaughter Claudine, who had married -Luc's son, Charles Froment. - -'I have brought you a guest,' he simply said to the others, without -naming Ragu. 'He is a stranger, a friend.' - -And all made answer: 'He is welcome.' - -Bonnaire kept Ragu near him. But the table was a long one, for four -generations elbowed one another. When Bonnaire the patriarch looked -round he could see his son Lucien and his daughter-in-law Louise -Mazelle, both of whom were now over fifty. He could also see his -granddaughter Claudine and his grandson-in-law, Charles Froment, both -in their prime; and he could likewise see his great-granddaughter -Alice, a charming little maid, eight years of age. And all manner of -kith and kin followed. Bonnaire explained to Ragu that a gigantic table -would have been needed if his three other children, Antoinette, Zoé, -and Séverin, had not arranged to dine at other tables with their own -offspring. At dessert, however, they would bring the tables together -in a neighbourly fashion, in suchwise that they would end by being all -together. - -Ragu more particularly turned his eyes upon Louise Mazelle, who still -looked very charming and active. He was no doubt surprised by the sight -of that daughter of the _bourgeoisie_, who invariably displayed so much -affection for her husband Lucien, the scion of a working-class stock. -Leaning towards Bonnaire, the old vagabond at last asked him in an -undertone: 'Are the Mazelles dead then?' - -'Yes; the dread of losing their money killed them. The conversions -which upset everything and foreshadowed the approaching suppression -of Rentes altogether, fell upon them like so many thunderbolts. The -husband was the first to die, killed by the idea that his idle days -were over and that he would perhaps have to work again. Then the wife -dragged on for a while, cloistering herself at home and no longer -daring to go out, convinced as she was that as violent hands had been -laid on Rentes people must nowadays be murdered at every street-corner. -It was in vain that her daughter proposed to take her with her; she -stifled at the thought of being fed by others, and at last one day she -was found dead--stricken by apoplexy, her face quite black, and resting -among a package of her Rente certificates, which had virtually lost all -value. Poor people! They died in a state of stupefaction, absolutely -overcome, and declaring that the world had been turned topsy-turvy.' - -Ragu wagged his head. He was not inclined to weep for those -_bourgeois_, but at the same time he was of opinion that a world whence -idleness was banished was not worth living in. Then he again looked -round him, and became yet gloomier as he noticed the rising spirits -of one and all, and the abundance and luxury which prevailed at the -table, though to the others those things were now only natural, and -gave no cause for vanity. The women were all arrayed in similar festive -garb, similar light, charming silks; and precious stones--rubies and -sapphires and emeralds--glittered in the hair of all. But the roses, -the superb roses, were preferred to the gems by far, for they lived, -and were therefore the more precious. - -Already in the middle of the meal, which was made up of delicate and -simple viands, vegetables, and fruit especially, everything being -served on silver dishes, joyous songs began to arise, saluting the -setting sun and bidding it _au revoir_, in the certainty that in -a few hours' time it would happily arise again. And all at once, -amidst the singing, a delightful incident occurred. All the birds of -the neighbourhood--the robins, the blackcaps, the finches, even the -sparrows, flew down on the tables before retiring to rest among the -darkening greenery. They alighted boldly on one's shoulders, hopped -down to peck the crumbs on the cloth, and accepted dainties from the -hands of the children and the women. Since Beauclair had become a town -of concord and peace they had been aware of the change there; they no -longer feared aught from its kindly inhabitants--neither snares nor -gunshots. And they had grown familiar in their way; they formed part of -the various families; each garden had its denizens, who at meal-time -flew down to take their share of the common food. - -'Ah! here are our little friends!' cried Bonnaire. 'How they chatter! -They know very well that to-day is a festival. Crumble some bread for -them, Alice!' - -Ragu, with his face darkening and a dolorous expression in his eyes, -watched the birds as they flew down from every side, like a very -whirlwind of small light feathers to which the last sunbeams imparted -a golden glow. Those birds made the dessert quite lively, so many were -the little feet hopping jauntily among the cherries and the roses. And -of all the felicity and splendour that Ragu had witnessed since the -morning, nothing had so clearly and so charmingly told him how peaceful -and how happy was that young community. For him it was like a supreme -blow; he suddenly arose and said to Bonnaire: 'I'm stifling, I must -walk about. And besides, I want to see everything, all the tables, all -the people.' - -Bonnaire understood him well. Was it not Luc and Josine whom he wished -to see? Was not all the ardent curiosity that he had displayed since -his return culminating in a desire to behold them? Still avoiding a -decisive explanation, Bonnaire answered: 'Very well, I will show you; -we will make the round of the tables.' - -The first they reached--the one set out before the next house--was -that of the Morfains. Petit-Da presided over it beside his wife, -Honorine Caffiaux, both of them with snowy hair; and with them were -their son Raymond, their daughter-in-law Thérèse Froment, and their -eldest grandson, Maurice Morfain, a tall youth, nineteen years of age -already. Then, on the other side, came Achille Gourier's line, with -his widow, Ma-Bleue, whose large sky-blue eyes retained all their -intensity, though she was now nearly seventy years old. She would soon -be a great-grandmother, through her daughter Léonie, married to Séverin -Bonnaire, and her grandson, Félicien, born of that marriage, and lately -wedded to Hélène, the daughter of Pauline Froment and André Jollivet. -All were present, even both of the last named, who had come with their -daughter. And some of them were making merry with Hélène, suggesting -that if her firstborn should be a son he ought to be called Grégoire. -Meantime her sister Berthe, though she was scarcely fifteen, already -laughed at the soft things said to her by her cousin Raymond, thus -offering promise of another love-match in the future. - -The arrival of Bonnaire was hailed with joyous acclamations. Ragu, -who was losing himself more and more amidst the tangle of matrimonial -alliances, particularly desired that the two Froments seated at this -table should be pointed out to him. They were two of Luc's daughters, -Thérèse and Pauline, both well on the road to their fortieth year, -but still displaying a bright and healthy beauty. Then, as the sight -of Ma-Bleue reminded Ragu of old Mayor Gourier and Sub-Prefect -Châtelard, he wished to know how they had ended. Bonnaire told him -that they had passed away, one a few days later than the other, after -spending their last years in close intimacy, linked together by the -loss of the beautiful Léonore. Gourier, the first to depart, had with -difficulty accustomed himself to the new state of things. He had often -raised his arms to heaven in astonishment at being an employer of -labour no longer; and he had been wont to talk of the past with all -the melancholy of an aged man, who, although he would willingly have -devoured the priests in former days, had actually begun to regret -the ceremonies of the Catholic Church, the First Communions and -processions, the incense and the pealing bells. Châtelard, on the other -hand, had gallantly fallen asleep in the skin of an Anarchist, for -such he had gradually become in the midst of his diplomatic reserve, -accomplishing his destiny such as he had wished it to be--living happy -and forgotten in the midst of that Beauclair which was now rebuilt -and triumphant--and at last disappearing in silence with the _régime_ -whose funeral procession he had so complacently followed, he himself -swallowed up, as it were, in the collapse of the last ministry. - -But there was a finer, a more noble, death to be mentioned, the death -of Judge Gaume, which was recalled by the presence at that table of his -grandson André and his great-granddaughters Hélène and Berthe. Alone -with his grandson, Gaume had lived to the age of ninety-two in all -the desolation of his spoilt and dolorous life. On the day, however, -when the law courts and the prison were closed, he had felt himself -in a measure delivered from the haunting torture of his career as a -judge. A man judging men, consenting to play the part of infallible -truth, absolute justice, in spite of all the possible infirmities of -his mind and his heart, the thought of it made Gaume shudder, filled -him with excessive scruples, dreadful remorse, terror lest he should -indeed have been a bad judge. However, the justice which he had -long awaited, which he had feared he might never see, had dawned at -last--not the justice of an iniquitous social system, reigning with the -sword, with which it defends a small minority of despoilers, and with -which it strikes the great multitude of wretched slaves, but justice as -between free man and free man--justice allotting to each his share of -legitimate happiness, and bringing in its train truth and brotherliness -and peace. - -On the morning of the day he died Gauine sent for an old poacher -whom he had formerly condemned to a heavy punishment for killing a -gendarme who had dealt him a sabre stroke, and he publicly expressed -his contrition, and cried aloud all the doubts which had poisoned his -career. He proclaimed all the crimes of the Code, all the errors and -falsehoods of the Statutes, those weapons of social oppression and -hatred, those corrupt foundations of the social system whence spring -perfect epidemics of theft and murder. - -'And so,' Ragu resumed, 'those young folk seated at that table, that -Félicien and his wife Hélène, at whose house we called this morning, -are at once the grandchildren of the Froments, the Morfains, the -Jollivets, and the Gaumes? But doesn't the blood of such enemies poison -those in whose veins it now flows?' - -'No, indeed,' Bonnaire quietly replied, 'that commingling of blood -has brought reconciliation, and the race has acquired more beauty and -strength from it.' - -Fresh bitterness awaited Ragu at the next table--that of Bourron, his -old chum, the boon companion of his days of sloth and drunkenness, -whom he had ruled and led astray so easily. The idea of it! Bourron -happy, Bourron saved, when he himself remained in his hell! In spite -of his many years Bourron did indeed look quite triumphant as he sat -there beside his wife Babette, she who had ever remained cheerful, -whose unchangeable hopes and optimism had found fulfilment without even -moving her to astonishment. Was it not natural? One was happy because -one always ends by being happy. - -And around the Bourrons there had been no limit to the swarming of -offspring. There was first their eldest daughter, Marthe, who had -married Auguste Laboque and had given birth to Adolphe, who in his -turn had married Germaine, the daughter of Zoé Bonnaire and Nicholas -Yvonnot. There was next their son Sébastien, who had married Agathe -Fauchard, and had begotten Clémentine, who on her side had married -Alexandre Feuillat, the son of Léon Feuillat and of Eugénie Yvonnot. -The fourth generation proceeding from those two branches of Bourron's -family was already represented by two little girls, Simonne Laboque -and Amélie Feuillat, each of them in their fifth year. And by virtue -of the kinship established by marriage the party further included -Louis Fauchard, married to Julienne Dacheux, who had given him a -daughter, Laure; and Évariste Mitaine, married to Olympe Lenfant, by -whom he had had a son Hippolyte. Then there was the aforesaid Hippolyte -himself, now the husband of Laure Fauchard, and the father of a lad -in his eighth year, named François, in such wise that the fourth -generation was sprouting vigorously on this side also. Throughout -festive Beauclair one could not have found a larger table than that -where intermingled the descendants of the Bourrons, the Laboques, the -Bonnaires, the Yvonnots, the Fauchards, the Feuillats, the Dacheux, the -Lenfants, and the Mitaines. - -Bonnaire, who here again found one of his own children, Zoé, gave -Ragu some particulars respecting those whom death had carried off. -Old Fauchard and his wife Natalie--he always in a state of stupor and -she always complaining--had gone off without understanding the great -changes which were taking place. Feuillat, on his side, had beheld -the triumph of his work, that vast estate of Les Combettes, ere he -departed. Lenfant and Yvonnot had lately followed him to their graves, -in that earth which was now loved with intelligence and fertilised with -virile power. And after the Dacheux, the Caffiaux and the Laboques, -those relics of the vanished trading system, the beautiful bakeress, -the good Madame Mitaine, had passed away full of years, kindliness, and -beauty. - -But Ragu was no longer listening--he could not take his eyes from -Bourron. 'He looks quite young,' he muttered, 'and his Babette still -has her pretty laugh.' - -He recalled the sprees of other days, Bourron and he lingering late in -Caffiaux's den, railing against the masters, and at last staggering -home, dead drunk. And he recalled his own long life of wretchedness, -the fifty years that he had squandered in rolling from workshop to -workshop through the world. To-day the experiment had been made and -made successfully. Work, reorganised and regenerated, had saved his -old chum when he was already half lost, whereas he, Ragu, had come back -annihilated by the old labour system, full of misery and suffering, -that iniquitous wage-system, which poisoned and destroyed. - -All at once there came a charming incident which brought Ragu's anguish -to a climax. Simonne Laboque, the daughter of Adolphe and Germaine, a -fair-haired little maid about five years old, took some rose petals, -scattered over the table, in her chubby little hands, and smilingly -poured them over her great-grandfather's white head. - -'There! grandpa Bourron, there you are, and there's some more! They're -to make you a crown. Oh! you've some in your hair, and in your ears, -and on your nose too. You've some everywhere! And _bonne fête, bonne -fête_, grandpa Bourron!' - -The whole table laughed, applauded, and acclaimed the old man. But Ragu -fled, dragging Bonnaire with him. He was trembling, he could scarcely -remain erect. When they had got a little distance away, however, he -suddenly said to Bonnaire in a husky voice: 'Listen, what's the use of -keeping it back any longer? I only came to see _them_. Where are they? -Show them me!' - -He was speaking of Luc and Josine; and, as Bonnaire, who had fully -understood it, delayed replying, he continued: 'You have been taking -me about ever since this morning and I have seemed to be interested in -everything, yet I can only think of them. It was the thought of them -indeed that brought me back here amidst so much fatigue and suffering. -I heard while I was far away that I hadn't killed him. They are both -still alive, are they not? They have had several children--they are -happy, triumphant, is that not so?' - -Bonnaire was reflecting. For fear of a scandal he had hitherto delayed -the inevitable meeting. But had not his tactics succeeded? Had not -a kind of holy awe come over Ragu in presence of the grandeur of -the accomplished work? Bonnaire could tell that his companion was -quivering, distracted, too nerveless to think of committing another -crime. And so, with his air of serene good nature, he finished by -replying, 'You want to see them, my good fellow; well, I will show them -to you. And it's quite true, you will see happy folk.' - -Luc's table came immediately after that of Bourron. He sat on one side -of it, in the centre, with Josine on his right, whilst on his left -hand were Sœurette and Jordan. Suzanne also was present, seated in -front of Luc; and near her Nanet and Nise had taken their places. They -in their turn would soon be great-grandparents, but their eyes still -laughed under their fair hair, which had now become somewhat paler -in hue, as in the distant days when they had looked like two little -toys--two little curly lambs. All around the table sat the younger -members of Luc's family. There was Hilaire, his eldest son, who had -married Colette, the daughter of Nanette and Nise, and had become the -father of Mariette, now nearly fifteen years of age. In like manner -from Paul Boisgelin and Antoinette Bonnaire had sprung Ludovic, who -would soon be twenty; and there was a promise of marriage between -Ludovic and Mariette, who dined side by side, spending much of their -time in whispering together, having little secrets of their own to -communicate. Then came Jules, the last of the Froments, who had married -Céline, the daughter of Arsène Lenfant and Eulalie Laboque; this pair -having a boy of six named Richard, a child of angelic beauty, the -particular favourite of his grandfather Luc. And afterwards followed -all the kinsfolk; this being the table where the blood of old-time -enemies was most closely blended, that of the Froments, the Boisgelins, -and the Delaveaus mingling with that of the Bonnaires, the Laboques, -and the Lenfants, the artisans, traders, and tillers of the soil; in -such wise that the whole social communion whence the new city, the -Beauclair of justice and peace, had sprung, was represented here. - -At the moment when Ragu drew near to the table, a last ray of the -setting sun enveloped it as with a glory, and the clumps of roses, the -silver plate, the light silk gowns and the diamond-spangled hair of the -women coruscated amidst the splendour. But the most charming incident -that attended the orb's farewell was another flight of the birds of the -vicinity, who yet once again flew around the diners before retiring to -rest among the branches. There came such coveys and such a flapping of -little wings that the table was covered as with a snow of warm living -down. Friendly hands took hold of the birds, caressed them, and then -let them go. And the confidence thus displayed by the robins and the -finches was fraught with adorable sweetness. In that calm evening -atmosphere it seemed like a sign that an alliance was henceforth formed -between all creatures, that universal peace reigned at last between men -and animals and things. - -'Oh, Grandpa Luc!' cried little Richard, 'just look, there is a -blackcap drinking water out of Grandma Josine's glass!' - -It was true; and Luc, the founder of the city, felt both amused and -touched by it. The water came from those fresh and pure springs which -he had captured among the rocks of the Bleuse Mountains, and which -had given birth to the whole town of gardens and avenues and plashing -fountains. When the bird had flown away Luc took up the glass, and -raised it amidst the purple glow of the sunset, saying: 'Josine! we -must drink--we must drink to the health of our happy city!' - -And when Josine, who all her life had remained an _amorosa_, a creature -of tender heart beneath her white hair, had laughingly moistened her -lips with the water, Luc in his turn drank of it and resumed, 'To the -health of our city, whose _fête_ it is to-day! May it ever increase and -spread, may it grow in liberty, prosperity, and beauty, and may it win -the whole world over to the work of universal harmony!' - -In the last sunray, which set an aureola round his head, he looked -superb--still young even, overflowing with triumphant faith and joy. -Without pride or emphasis he simply expressed the delight he felt at -seeing his work so full of life and strength. He was the founder, -the creator, the father; and all those joyous people, all who sat at -those tables celebrating work and the fruitfulness of summer, were his -people, his friends, his kinsfolk, his ever-spreading, brotherly, and -prosperous family. An acclamation greeted the ardently loving wishes -which he offered up for his city, ascending into the evening air, and -rolling from table to table even to the most distant avenues. One and -all had risen to their feet, in their turn holding their glasses aloft -and drinking the health of Luc and Josine, the heroes, the patriarchs -of work; she, the redeemed one, glorified as spouse and as mother, and -he the saviour, who, to save her, had saved the whole wretched world of -the wage-earners from iniquity and suffering. And it was a moment full -of exaltation and magnificence, testifying to the passionate gratitude -of the vast throng for all the active faith which had been shown, and -proclaiming the community's final entry into the reign of glory and -love. - -Ragu turned ghastly pale and trembled in all his limbs as that gust of -triumph swept by. He could not endure the sight of Luc and Josine, so -radiant with beauty and kindliness. He recoiled and staggered, and was -on the point of fleeing when Luc, who had noticed him, turned towards -Bonnaire. - -'Ah! my friend, you were lacking to make my joy complete,' said he. -'You have ever been like my other self, the bravest, sturdiest, most -sensible artisan of our work, and people must not praise me without -praising you also. But who is that old man that I see with you?' - -'He is a stranger.' - -'A stranger! Let him approach then. Let him break with us the bread of -our harvests, and drink the water of our springs. Our city is a city -of welcome and peace for all men. Make room, Josine! And you, friend, -whom we do not know, come, seat yourself between my wife and me, for -we should like to honour in you all our unknown brothers of the other -cities of the world.' - -But Ragu, as if seized with holy horror, retreated yet farther away. - -'No, no, I cannot.' - -'Why not?' Luc gently asked. 'If you come from afar, if you are weary, -you will here find helping and comforting hands. We ask you neither -your name nor your past. Here all is forgiven; brotherliness reigns -alone, in order that the happiness of all may produce the happiness -of each. And you, dear wife, repeat all that to him--the words will -come gently and convincingly from your lips, for it seems as if I only -frighten him.' - -Thereupon Josine herself spoke: 'Here! my friend,' said she, 'here is -our glass, why should you not drink our health and your own? You come -from afar, and you are a brother, in you we shall have the pleasure of -still enlarging our family. It is a custom at Beauclair now, on days of -festival, to exchange a kiss of peace which effaces everything. Take -this glass and drink, for the love of all!' - -But Ragu again recoiled, paler and trembling more violently than -before, stricken with terror indeed as at some idea of sacrilege: 'No, -no, I cannot!' - -Did Luc and Josine at that moment suspect the truth, did they recognise -the wretched man who had returned merely to experience fresh suffering -after so long dragging about with him his destiny of sloth and -corruption? As they looked at him an expression of deep sadness came -into their eyes which had beamed so kindly. And by way of conclusion -Luc simply said: 'Go then, since you desire it, since you cannot -belong to our family, at the hour when it is drawing yet more closely -together, pressing around on all sides, hand in hand. Look! it is -mingling, tables are joining tables, and soon there will be but one -board for the whole of our city of brothers!' - -This was true; the people were gathering together in neighbourly -fashion--each table seemed to set out on the march towards the next -one, in such wise that they all met and joined, as invariably happened -at the close of that repast in honour of the festival of Summer. And -it was all quite natural, the children at first served as messengers, -going from table to table, for there was a tendency among the scattered -members of particular families to gather together and seat themselves -side by side. How could Séverin Bonnaire, who sat at the table of the -Morfains, Zoé Bonnaire, who sat at that of the Bourrons, and Antoinette -Bonnaire, who sat at that of Luc, help feeling drawn towards the -paternal table, where their elder brother Lucien had his place? And was -it not natural that the Froments, scattered like the seed corn which -one casts into different furrows--Charles being among the Bonnaires, -Thérèse and Pauline among the Morfains--should desire to join their -father, the founder and creator of the city? Thus one beheld the -tables marching and uniting together in such wise that not a break -soon remained along the avenues, before the doors of the gay houses. -The paschal feast of that brotherly people was about to continue under -the stars, in a vast communion, all being seated elbow to elbow, at -the same board, among the same scattered rose petals. The whole city -thus became a gigantic banqueting-hall, the families were blended into -one, the same spirit animated every breast, and the same love made -every heart beat. Meantime from the far-spreading pure heavens fell a -delightful, sovereign peace, the harmony of spheres and men. - -Bonnaire had not intervened, but he had kept his eyes on Ragu, watching -for the change that he expected after that day of surprises which, one -by one, had shaken the wanderer until at last he was terrified and -transported by that final blaze of glory. At last realising that he -was sorely stricken, and tottering, Bonnaire gave him his hand. 'Come, -let us walk a little,' he said, 'the evening air is so mild. And tell -me, do you now believe in our happiness? Surely you must now see that -one may work and at the same time be happy. Indeed, joy and health -and perfect life are to be found in work. To work is to live. And only -a religion of suffering and death could have made work a curse, and -eternal sloth the happiness of heaven! Work is not our master, it is -the breath of our lungs, the blood of our veins, the one sole reason -why we love and create and form immortal humanity! - -But Ragu, as if exhausted by fatigue, weary unto death amidst his -defeat, ceased arguing: 'Oh, leave me, leave me,' said he. 'I am only -a coward, a child would have had more courage, and I hold myself in -contempt.' Then in a whisper he went on: 'I came to kill them both. -Ah! that never-ending journey, the roads that followed the roads, -the years of roaming through unknown lands with one rageful thought -in my heart--that of returning to Beauclair, of finding that man and -that woman once more, and of planting in their flesh the knife I had -used so clumsily! But you met me, amused me, and just now I trembled -before them, and retreated like a coward, when I saw them looking so -beautiful, so great, so radiant!' - -Bonnaire shuddered on hearing that confession. Already on the previous -night he had apprehended a crime. But now, at the sight of the woeful -wretch's collapse, he felt stirred by pity. 'Come, come, you unhappy -being,' he exclaimed, 'come and sleep again to-night at my house. -To-morrow we'll see----' - -'Sleep again at your house! Oh! no, no! I'm going, I'm going at once!' - -'But you cannot start off at this hour--you are too tired, too weak. -Why won't you stay with us? You will become calmer, you will know our -happiness.' - -'No, no! I must start at once, at once. The potter said the truth, I'm -not of the sort to make one of you.' And like some damned and tortured -wretch full of suppressed wrath Ragu added: 'Your happiness--why, I -can't bear the sight of it! It would make me suffer too much!' - -Bonnaire then ceased to insist; secret horror and uneasiness had come -over him also. In silence he led Ragu to his house again, and the -other, unwilling even to wait till the end of the meal, took up his -wallet and his staff. Not a word was exchanged between them, not even a -gesture of farewell. Bonnaire watched the miserable old man go off with -tottering steps, and vanish at last, far away in the night, which was -gradually falling. - -It was impossible, however, for Ragu to lose sight of festive Beauclair -in a moment. He slowly went up the Brias gorge, and at each step -climbed higher and higher among the rocks of the Bleuse Mountains. -Before long he was above the town, the whole of which on turning round -he once more beheld. The sky, of a dark yet pure blue, was glittering -with stars. And, beneath the sweetness of the lovely June night, the -town spread out like another stretch of sky, swarming, as it were, with -innumerable little planets--the thousands and thousands of electric -lamps which had just been lighted on the banquet tables and amidst -the greenery. Once more then Ragu beheld those tables, outlined, so -to say, with fire, and thus emerging victoriously from the darkness. -They spread along without end till they filled the whole space below -him. And he could hear laughter and singing arising, and still and ever -behold that giant festival of a whole people, gathered together at -table in one sole brotherly family. - -Then he once more sought to flee the sight, and ascended still higher; -but when he next turned round, he again saw the city glowing yet more -brightly than before. He went higher still, he ever and ever climbed -upward, but at each further ascent, each time that he turned round -the city seemed to have grown, till at last it spread over the entire -plain, becoming like the very heavens with its infinite expanse of -sombre blue and glittering stars. The sounds of laughter and of song -reached him more and more distinctly; it was as if the whole great -human family were celebrating the joy of work, upon the fruitful earth. -Then, for the last time, he again set out, and walked for hours and for -hours until he became lost in the darkness. - - - -V - - -Yet other years rolled by, and death, necessary death, the good -helpmate of eternal life, performed his work, carrying off one by one -those who had accomplished their tasks. Bourron was the first to go, -followed by his wife Babette, who retained her good humour to the last. -Then came the turn of Petit-Da and that of Ma-Bleue, whose blue eyes -partook of the infinite of the blue heavens. Lange died too, whilst -putting the finishing touch to a last little figure, a delightful -barefooted girl, the very image of the Barefeet he had loved. Then -Nanet and Nise went off, exchanging a last kiss, whilst still young; -and finally Bonnaire succumbed like a hero amidst the stir of work one -day when he had repaired to the factory to see a new giant hammer, -whose every stroke forged a great piece of metal-work. - -Of all their generation, of all the founders and creators of triumphant -Beauclair, Luc and Jordan alone remained, loved and surrounded with the -affectionate attentions of Josine, Sœurette, and Suzanne. It seemed -as if the three women, whose health and courage in their old age were -marvellous, lived on simply to be the helpmates and nurses of the men. -Since Luc had scarcely been able to walk, his legs gradually failing -him till he was almost fastened to his arm-chair, Suzanne had come to -reside in his house, lovingly sharing with Josine the glory of waiting -upon him. He was more than eighty now, of unchangeable gaiety and in -full possession of his intelligence--quite young indeed, as he said -with a laugh, had it not been for those wretched legs of his which -were becoming like lead. And in the same way Sœurette did not quit her -brother Jordan, who now never left his laboratory, but worked there in -the day-time and slept there at night. He was Luc's elder by ten years, -and had retained at ninety the slow and methodical activity to which he -was indebted for the accomplishment of such a vast amount of work--ever -seemingly on the point of expiring, but introducing such logic and such -well-reasoned determination into his labour, that he was still working -when the sturdiest toilers of his generation had long been sleeping in -the grave. - -He had often said in his weak little voice: 'People die because they're -willing; one doesn't die when one still has something to do. My health -is very bad, but all the same I shall live to a good old age, I shall -only die on the day when my work is finished. You'll see, you'll see! -I shall know when the time has come, and I will warn you, my good -friends, saying: "Good-night, my day's over, I'm going to sleep now."' - -Thus Jordan still worked because in his estimation his work was not yet -finished. He lived on, wrapped in rugs; his drinks were warmed in order -that he might not catch cold, and he took long rests on a couch between -the brief hours which he was able to devote to his researches. Two or -three such hours sufficed him, however, for the accomplishment of a -considerable amount of work, in such a methodical manner did he exert -himself. Sœurette, all attention and abnegation, was like his second -self, at once a nurse, a secretary, and a preparator, allowing nobody -to approach and disturb him. On the days, moreover, when his hands were -too weak for any exertion, it was she who carried out his thoughts for -him, becoming as it were a prolongation of his own life. - -To Jordan's thinking his work would only be completed when the new -city's supply of beneficent electricity should be as unlimited as the -inexhaustible water of the rivers, or the air which one can breathe -in all freedom. During the past sixty years he had accomplished a -great deal of work tending to that solution. He had diminished the -cost of electricity by burning coals when they quitted the pit, and -then despatching the electric force he obtained by cable to numerous -factories. And after long researches he had devised a new appliance by -which he even transformed the calorical energy contained in coal into -electrical energy, without mechanical energy having to be employed. -He had in this manner done away with boilers, which meant a saving of -more than fifty per cent, in the cost price. The dynamos being charged -direct, by the simple combustion of the coal, he had been able to work -his electrical furnaces cheaply and well, revolutionise metallurgy, and -provide the town with an abundance of electricity for all social and -domestic purposes. Nevertheless, in his opinion it still remained too -costly; he wished to have it for nothing, like the passing breeze which -is at the disposal of all. Besides, a fear had come to him, born of -the possibility--in fact, the certainty--that the coal mines would in -time become exhausted. Before another century perhaps coal would fail -one; and would not that mean the death of the world, the cessation of -all industry, the suppression of the chief means of locomotion--mankind -reduced to immobility, a prey to the cold, like some big body whose -blood has ceased to circulate? It was with growing anxiety that Jordan -saw each ton of coals burnt; that made a ton the less, he often said. -And although he was so puny, feverish, racked by coughing, already with -one foot in the grave, he incessantly tortured his mind in thinking of -the catastrophe which threatened the future generations. He vowed that -he would not die until he should have presented those generations with -a flood of power, a flood of endless life, which would prove the source -of their civilisation and their happiness. Thus he had set to work -again, and for more than ten years already he had been working on the -problem. - -In the first instance Jordan had naturally thought of the waterfalls. -They constituted a primitive mechanical force which had been employed -successfully in mountain regions in spite of the capriciousness -of the torrents, and the interruptions which dry seasons brought -about. Unfortunately, the few watercourses still to be found in the -Bleuse Mountains--apart from the springs utilised for the town's -water-supply--did not possess the necessary energy. And, besides, no -mountain spring would ever yield such a constant, regular, and abundant -motive power as was necessary for his great design. Jordan therefore -thought of the tides, the continual flux and reflux of the ocean, whose -power, ever on the march, beats against the coasts of the continents. -Scientists had already given attention to the tides, and he turned to -their researches and even devised some experimental appliances. The -distance of Beauclair from the sea was not an obstacle, for electrical -force could already be transmitted without loss over considerable -distances. But another idea haunted him, and gradually took complete -possession of him, throwing him into a prodigious dream, full of the -thought that if he could bring it to fulfilment he would give happiness -to the whole world. - -Puny and chilly as he was, Jordan had always evinced a passion for the -sun. He often watched it pursuing its course. With a quivering fear of -the spreading darkness he saw it set at evening, and at times he rose -early in the morning in order that he might have the joy of seeing -it appear again. If it should be drowned in the sea; if it should -some day never reappear, what endless, icy, deadly night would fall -upon mankind! Thus Jordan almost worshipped the sun, regarding it as -something divine, the father of our world, the creator and regulator, -which after drawing beings from the clay, had warmed them, helped them -to develop and spread, and nourished them with the fruits of the earth, -throughout an incalculable number of centuries. The sun was the eternal -source of life since it was the source of light, heat, and motion. It -reigned in its glory like a very powerful, very good, and very just -king, a necessary god, without whom there would be nothing, and whose -disappearance would bring about the death of all things. This being -so, Jordan asked himself why should not the sun continue and complete -his work? During thousands of years it had stored its beneficent heat -away in the trees of which coal was made. During thousands of years -the earth had preserved in its bosom that immense reserve stock of -heat, which had come to us like a priceless gift at the hour when our -civilisation needed new splendour. And it was to the all-helping sun -that one must again apply, it was the sun which would continue giving -to that which it had created, the world and man, increase of life, and -truth, and justice, all the happiness indeed of which one had dreamt -so long. Since the sun vanished each evening, since it disappeared -at winter-time, one must ask it to leave us a plentiful share of its -blaze, in order that one might without suffering await its return at -dawn, and take patience during the cold seasons. The problem was at -once a simple and a formidable one; it was necessary to address oneself -direct to the sun, capture some of the solar heat, and by special -appliances transform it into electricity, of which immense quantities -must be stored in air-tight reservoirs. In this fashion one would -always have an unlimited source of power, of which one might dispose as -one pleased. The rays would be harvested during the scorching days of -summer, and stored away in endless granaries. And when the nights grew -long, when winter arrived with its darkness and its ice, there would -be light and warmth and motion for all mankind. That electrical power, -ravished from the all-creating sun and domesticated by man, would then -at last prove his docile and ever-ready servant, relieving him of much -exertion, and helping him to make of work not only gaiety and health, -and just apportionment of wealth, but the very law and cult of life. - -The dream which possessed Jordan had already occupied other minds. -Scientists had succeeded in devising little appliances which -captured solar heat and transformed it into electricity, but in -infinitesimal quantities, the instruments being suited merely for -laboratory experiments. It was necessary to be able to operate on a -large scale, and in a thoroughly practical manner, in order to fill -the huge reservoirs which would be needed for the requirements of a -whole nation. For years, then, Jordan was seen superintending the -building--in the old park of La Crêcherie--of some strange appliances, -species of towers, whose purpose could not be divined. For a long -while he would not speak out, but kept the secret of his researches -from everybody. In fine weather, during the hours when he felt strong -enough, he repaired with the short, slow step of a weak old man to -the new works which he had set up, and shut himself up inside them -with some chosen men. And in spite of repeated failures he clung to -his task, wrestled with it, and ended by overcoming the sovereign -planet--he, the little hard-working ant, whom too hot a sunray would -have killed. Never was there greater heroism, never did the pursuit -of an idea afford the spectacle of a loftier victory over the natural -forces--forces which yesterday had been deadly thunderbolts for man, -and which to-day were conquered, subjected to his service. He succeeded -in solving the problem, the great and glorious sun parted with some -little of that inexhaustible glow with which, never cooling, it has -warmed the earth through so many centuries. After some final trials new -works were definitively planned and erected, and supplied Beauclair -throughout a whole year with as much electricity as its inhabitants -required, even as the springs of the mountains supplied them with -water. Nevertheless, an annoying defect was observed: the loss from the -reservoirs remained very large, and some last improvements had to be -devised, a means of storing without fear of diminution the necessary -winter reserve of power, in such wise that another sun, as it were, -might be lighted above the town throughout the long cold nights of -December. - -Again did Jordan set to work. He sought, he struggled still, resolved -upon keeping alive until his task should be completed. His strength -declined, he was at last unable to go out, and had to rest content with -sending his orders to the works respecting the final, long-debated -ameliorations. In this fashion several months went by. Shut up in his -laboratory he there perfected his work, resolved to die there on the -day when this work should be ended. And that day arrived: he found a -means of preventing all loss, of rendering his reservoirs absolutely -impermeable, capable of holding their store of electric force for a -long period. And then he had but one desire--to bid farewell to his -work, embrace his friends, and return again into universal life. - -The month of October had come, and the sun was still gilding the last -leaves with warm, clear gold. Jordan requested Sœurette to have him -carried in an arm-chair, for the last time, to the works where the new -reservoirs had been installed. He wished to gaze upon his creation, to -make sure that enough sunshine was stored away to enable Beauclair to -wait for the return of spring. And so one delightful afternoon he was -taken to the works, and spent two hours in them, inspecting everything -and regulating the action of the appliances. The works were built at -the very foot of the Bleuse Mountains, in a part of the old park which -looked towards the south, and which had formerly been an overflowing -paradise of fruit and flowers. There were towers rising above large -buildings with long roofs of steel and glass, but nothing connected -with the work could be seen from the outside, for all the conducting -cables passed underground. - -At last, by way of finishing his visit, Jordan bade his bearers halt -for a moment in the central courtyard, where he gave a long supreme -glance around him at that nucleus of a new world, endowed with the -source of eternal life, his creation, the passion of his whole life. -And finally he turned towards Sœurette, who, never quitting him, had -followed his arm-chair step by step. 'Well,' said he with a smile, -'it's finished, and it seems quite satisfactory; so now I can go off. -Let us return to the house, sister.' - -He was very gay, radiant like a toiler who thinks that he will at -last be able to rest since his work is done. However, his sister, -hoping that he might benefit by the sunshine, told the men carrying -the arm-chair not to hurry, but to go back to the house by a somewhat -roundabout way. And thus it happened that on emerging from one of the -paths Jordan suddenly found himself in front of the pavilion where Luc -still dwelt, reduced like his friend to immobility, since he had lost -the use of his legs. For some months now the two friends had not seen -one another. They could only correspond, obtain news of each other -through their dear nurses, their guardian angels, who were ever coming -and going between them. And a final desire, the last desire of his -heart, suddenly upbuoyed the sinking Jordan. - -'Oh! sister, I beg you,' said he, 'let them stop and place my chair -yonder, under that tree, at the edge of the tall grass. And go up to -Luc at once and tell him that I am here, at his door, waiting for him.' - -Sœurette hesitated for a moment, feeling somewhat anxious at the -thought of all the emotion which such an interview would bring with it. -'But Luc is like yourself, my friend,' she said, 'he cannot stir. How -would you have him come downstairs?' - -The gay smile which revived the brilliancy of Jordan's eyes, again -appeared upon his face. - -'My bearers will carry him down, sister,' he replied. 'Since I have -come so far in my arm-chair he can surely come here in his.' And he -added tenderly: 'It is so pleasant here, we can have a last chat -together, and bid one another goodbye. How can we part for ever without -embracing?' - -It was impossible for Sœurette to refuse his request any longer, so -she went into the pavilion for Luc. Jordan waited quietly amidst the -caress of the declining sun; and his sister soon returned, announcing -that his friend was coming. Deep was the emotion when Luc appeared, -likewise carried by the men in his arm-chair. He was brought towards -the greenery, followed by Josine and Suzanne, who did not leave him. -At last the bearers deposited him near Jordan, the chairs touching one -another, and the two friends were then able to press each other's hands. - -'Ah! my good Jordan, how much I thank you,' said Luc; 'how kind of you -to have thought of bringing us together in order that we might see one -another again and bid one another a last good-bye!' - -'You would have done the same, my dear Luc,' Jordan answered. 'As I was -passing and you were there it was natural that we should meet for the -last time on this grass, under one of our dear trees, whose shade we -have loved so well.' - -The tree under which they sat was a big silvery lime-tree, a superb -giant that had already shed its leaves. But the sunshine still gilded -it delightfully, and the golden dust of the planet fell in a warm rain -athwart its branches. The evening too was exquisite, an evening of -intense peacefulness, fraught with the sweetest charm. A broad sun ray -enveloped the two old men as with a loving splendour, whilst the three -women, standing in the rear, watched over them with solicitude. - -'Just think of it, my friend!' Jordan resumed. 'For so many years -past whilst we have been pursuing parallel tasks, our lives have been -mingled. I should have gone off full of remorse if I had not again -excused myself for having placed such little faith in your work when -you first came to me and asked my help to build the future city of -Justice. I was at that time convinced that you would encounter defeat.' - -Luc began to laugh: 'Yes, yes, as you said, my friend, political, -economical, and social struggles were not your business. No doubt -there has been much futile agitation among men. But was one to abstain -on that account from taking part in what went on, was one to allow -evolution to take place as it listed, and refrain from hastening the -hour of deliverance? All the compromises--often necessary ones--all the -base devices to which the leaders of men have stooped, have had their -excuse in the double march which they have at times helped mankind to -effect.' - -Jordan hastily interrupted him: 'You were right, my friend,' said he, -'and you have proved it magnificently. Your battle here has created, -hastened the advent of a new world. Perhaps you have snatched a -hundred years from human wretchedness. At all events this new town of -Beauclair, where more justice and happiness now flower, proclaims the -excellence of your mission, the beneficent glory of your achievement. I -am with you entirely, you see, in mind and in heart, and I do not wish -to quit you without telling you once more how thoroughly you won me -over to your work, and with what growing affection I watched you whilst -you were realising so many great things. You were often an example for -me.' - -But Luc protested: 'Oh! do not let us speak of any example of mine, -my friend. It was you who ever gave me one, the loftiest, the most -magnificent! Remember my lassitude, my occasional attacks of weakness, -whereas I always found you erect, endowed with more courage, more and -more faith in your work, even on the days when everything seemed to -be crumbling around you. That which made you invincible was that you -believed solely in work, in which, alone, you set health and the one -reason for living and doing. And your own work became your very heart -and brain, the blood pulsing in your veins, the thought ever on the -alert in the depths of your mind. Your work alone existed for you, -building itself up with all the life that you bestowed on it, hour by -hour. And what an imperishable monument, what a gift of splendour and -happiness you will leave to mankind! I might never have been able to -carry out my own work, as a builder of towns, and leader of men, and at -all events it would as yet be as nothing, had it not been for yours.' - -Silence fell, and some birds flew by, whilst through the bare branches -of the lime-tree the autumn sunshine streamed more gently as evening -advanced. Sœurette, in her motherly fashion, became anxious, and drew -Jordan's rug over his knees, whilst Josine and Suzanne bent over Luc, -fearing lest he should tire himself. - -But the latter replied to Jordan: 'Science remains the great -revolutionary. You told me so at the outset, and every forward step -in our long lives has shown me how right you were. Would our town of -Beauclair, now all comfort and solidarity, have been possible as yet -if you had not placed at its disposal that electrical power which has -become the necessary agent of all work, all social life? Science, -truth, will alone emancipate man, make him master of his destiny, and -give him sovereignty over the world by reducing the natural forces to -the status of obedient servants. Whilst I was building, my friend, you -gave me what was needed to infuse life into my stones and mortar.' - -'It is true, no doubt, that science will free man,' Jordan quietly -replied in his weak little voice, 'for at bottom truth is the one -powerful artisan of fraternity and justice. And I'm going off, feeling -well pleased with myself, for I've just paid my last visit to our -factory, and it is working now as I desired it to work, for the relief -and felicity of all.' - -He went on giving explanations and instructions respecting the working -of the new appliances, the employment of those reservoirs of force, as -if indeed he were dictating his last will and testament to his friend. -Electricity already cost nothing, and was so abundant that it might be -given to the inhabitants of Beauclair in whatever measure they desired, -like the streams whose flood was inexhaustible; like the air which came -freely from the four corners of the heavens. And given in this wise -electricity was life. - -In every public edifice and private house, even the most modest, light, -heat, and motive power were distributed without counting. It was only -necessary to turn on a few switches and the house was illumined and -warmed, food was cooked, and various trade and household appliances -were set working. All sorts of ingenious little mechanisms were being -invented for household requirements, relieving women of the work which -they had formerly done, substituting mechanical action for manual toil. -In a word, from the housewife to the factory-worker, the ancient human -beast of burden had been altogether relieved of physical exertion and -useless suffering; a subjugated and domesticated natural force now -replacing the old-time toilers and performing all the work allotted -to it, in silence and cleanliness, with merely an attendant to check -its action. And this also meant relief and freedom for the mind, a -moral and intellectual rise for every brain, hitherto weighed down by -excessive work, badly apportioned and fraught with savage iniquity -for the greater number of the disinherited, whom it had plunged in -ignorance, baseness and crime. And it was not slothful idleness that -now reigned in the place of excessive toil, but work into which more -freedom and conscience entered; man really becoming the king of work, -devoting himself to the occupations he preferred, and creating more -truth and beauty according to his tastes, after the few hours of -general work which he gave to the community. And meantime also the -unhappy domestic animals, the sad-looking horses, all the beasts used -for draught, burden, and servitude were freed from the carts they had -been compelled to drag, the millstones they had turned, the loads they -had carried, and were restored to happy life in the fields and the -woods. - -But the purposes for which the electric force could be used were -innumerable, and each day brought with it some fresh benefit. Jordan -had invented some lamps of such great power that two or three sufficed -to illumine an avenue. Thus the dream of lighting another sun above -Beauclair at night-time would assuredly be fulfilled. Some huge and -splendid glass houses had also been erected, in which by means of an -improved system of heating, flowers, vegetables, and fruits could be -easily grown at all seasons. The town was full of them, they were -distributed broadcast, and winter, like night, ceased to exist. -Moreover, transport and locomotion were facilitated more and more, -thanks to the free motive power which was applied to an infinity of -vehicles, bicycles, carriages, carts, and trains of several coaches. - -'Yes, I am going off feeling well pleased,' Jordan repeated with serene -gaiety. 'I've done my own work, and the general task is sufficiently -well advanced to allow me to fall asleep in all peacefulness. To-morrow -the secret of aerial navigation will be discovered, and man will -conquer the atmosphere even as he conquered the oceans. To-morrow he -will be able to correspond from one to the other end of the earth -without wire or cable. Human speech, human gesture will dart round -the world with the rapidity of lightning. And that indeed, my friend, -is the deliverance of the nations by science, the great invincible -revolutionary, who will ever bring them increase of peace and truth. -You yourself long ago obliterated the frontiers, so to say, by your -rails, your railway lines which have extended further and further, -crossing rivers, transpiercing mountains, gathering the nations -together in a closer and closer network of intercourse. And what will -it be when one capital can chat in friendly fashion with another, -however far away, when the same thought at the same minute occupies -the attention of distant continents, and when the balloon cars travel -freely through the infinite, man's common patrimony, without knowing -aught of customs' tariffs? The air which we all breathe, that space -which is the property of all, will prove a field of harmony, in which -the men of to-morrow will assuredly become reconciled. And this is -why you have always seen me so composed, my friend, so convinced of -final deliverance. Men might do all they could to devour one another, -religions might pile error upon error in order to retain their -domination, but science was taking a step forward every day, creating -more light, more brotherliness, more happiness. And by the irresistible -force of truth it will at last sweep away all the dark and hateful -past, liberate the minds of men, and draw their hearts closer and -closer together under the great and beneficent sun, the father of us -all.' - -Jordan was growing tired, and his voice became very faint. Nevertheless -he laughed again as he concluded: 'You see, my friend, I was as much of -a revolutionist as you.' - -'I know it,' Luc replied with affectionate gentleness. 'You have -been my master in all things. I shall never be able to thank you -sufficiently for the admirable lesson of energy you gave me by your -superb faith in work.' - -The sun was now fast declining, and a light quiver had passed between -the branches of the great lime-tree, whence fell the planet's golden -dust, now of a paler hue. Night approached, and a delightful stillness -spread slowly over the tall herbage. The three women, still standing -there, silent and attentive, full of respect for that supreme -interview, nevertheless became anxious, and gently intervened. However, -as Josine and Sœurette covered Luc, in his turn, with a rug, he said to -them: 'I don't feel cold, the evening is so beautiful.' - -But Sœurette turned to glance at the sun, which was about to disappear -from the horizon, and Jordan following her glance, exclaimed: 'Yes, -night is falling. But the sun may go to bed now--it has left some of -its beneficence and power in our granaries. If it now sets the meaning -is that my day is over. I am going to sleep. Good-bye, my friend.' - -'Good-bye, my friend,' Luc rejoined; 'I shall soon go to sleep also.' - -This was their farewell, full of poignant affection, simple yet -wondrous grandeur. They knew that they would never more see one -another, and they exchanged a last glance and spoke a few last words. - -'Good-bye, my friend,' Jordan repeated. 'Do not be sad, death is good -and necessary. One lives again in others, one remains immortal. We have -already given ourselves to others, we have worked for them only, and -we shall be born again in them, and thus enjoy our share of our work. -Goodbye, my friend.' - -Then Luc once again repeated: 'Good-bye, my friend, all that will -remain of us will tell how much we loved and hoped. Each is born for -his task, that is the sole reason of life; nature brings a fresh being -into the world each time that she needs another workman. And when his -day's work is over, the workman can lie down, the earth will take him -again for other uses. Good-bye, my friend.' - -He leant forward, for he wished to embrace Jordan; but he was unable -to do so until the three affectionate women came to the help of both -of them, sustaining them whilst they exchanged that last embrace. They -laughed at it like children, they were full of gaiety and serenity at -that moment of separation, feeling neither regret nor remorse, since -they had done all their duty, all their work as men. And they had no -fears, no terror of the morrow of death, certain as they were of the -deep quietude in which good workmen slumber. They exchanged a long and -very tender embrace, putting all the strength that remained to them -into that last kiss. - -'Good-bye, my dear Jordan.' - -'Good-bye, my dear Luc.' - -Then they spoke no more. The silence became intense and holy. The sun -disappeared from the great heavens, vanishing behind the vague and -distant horizon. A bird perched on the lime-tree ceased singing, and -delicate shadows stole over the branches, whilst the lofty herbage, and -all the park with its clumps of trees, its paths and its lawns, sank -into the delightful quietude of twilight. - -Then, at a sign from Sœurette, the bearers took up Jordan's chair, and -slowly, gently carried him away. Luc had asked that he might be allowed -to remain under the tree a little longer, and as he still sat there he -watched his friend going off along a broad, straight pathway. At one -moment Jordan looked round, and a last glance and a half-stifled laugh -were exchanged. Then all was over, Luc saw the arm-chair disappear, -whilst the park was invaded by the gathering gloom. And Jordan, on -returning to his laboratory, went to bed there; and even as he had said -to Luc--his work being done, his day being ended--he let death take -him, dying on the morrow very peacefully, with a smile upon his lips, -in Sœurette's loving arms. - -Luc was destined to live five years longer in that arm-chair of -his which he seldom quitted, and which was placed near a window of -his room whence he could see his city spreading and growing day by -day. A week after Jordan's death Sœurette came to join Josine and -Suzanne, and from that day forward all three women encompassed Luc -with their loving attentions. During the long hours which he spent -gazing upon his happy city he often lived through the past again. He -once more saw his point of departure, the distant night of insomnia -when he had taken up a little book in which the doctrines of Fourier -were set forth. And Fourier's ideas of genius: the honouring, the -utilisation, the acceptance of the human passions as the very forces -of life; the extrication of work from its prison, its ennoblement, -its transformation into something attractive, into a new social code, -liberty and justice being gradually won by pacific means, thanks to a -confederation of capital, work, and brain power--all those ideas of -genius had suddenly illumined Luc's mind and prompted him to action on -the very morrow. It was to Fourier that he was indebted if he had dared -to make that experiment at La Crêcherie. The first common-house with -its school, the first bright clean workshops, the first dwelling-houses -with their white walls smiling amidst the greenery, had all sprung -from Fourierist ideas, ideas which had been left slumbering like -good grain in winter fields, ever ready to germinate and flower. -Even like Catholicism, the Religion of Humanity might need centuries -to be firmly established. But what an evolution afterwards, what a -continuous broadening of principles as love grew and the city spread! -By proposing combination between capital, work, and brain power as an -immediate experiment, Fourier, the evolutionist, a man of method and -practicability, virtually led one first to the social organisation of -the Collectivists, and afterwards even to the Libertarian dream of the -Anarchists. In that association capital gradually became annihilated, -and work and intelligence became the only regulators and basis of the -new social compact. At the end lay the disappearance of ordinary -trade, and the suppression of money, the first a cumbersome cogwheel -levying toll and consuming energy, the second a fictitious value, which -became useless in a community in which all contributed to produce -prodigious wealth, that circulated in continual exchanges. And thus, -starting with Fourier's experiment, the new city was fated to transform -itself at each fresh advance, marching on to more and more liberty and -equity, and conquering on its way all the socialists of the various -hostile sects, the Collectivists and even the Anarchists, and finally -grouping them in a brotherly people, reconciled amidst the fulfilment -of their common ideal, the kingdom of heaven set at last upon the earth. - -And that was the admirable spectacle which Luc ever had before his -eyes, a spectacle summed up in that city of happiness whose bright -roofs spread out among the trees before his window. The march which -the first generation, imbued with all the ancient errors, spoilt -by iniquitous surroundings, had begun so painfully, amidst so many -obstacles and so much hatred, was pursued with a joyous easy step -by the ensuing generations which the new schools and workshops had -created. They were attaining to heights which had once been declared -inaccessible. Thanks to continuous change, the children and the -children's children seemed to have hearts and brains different from -those of their forerunners, and brotherliness became easy to them in a -community in which the happiness of each was virtually compounded of -the happiness of all. - -With trade, theft had disappeared. With money, all criminal cupidity -had vanished. Inheritance no longer existed, and so no more privileged -idlers were born, and men no longer butchered each other to benefit -by somebody's will. What was the use of hating one another, of being -envious of one another, of seeking to acquire somebody's property -by ruse or force, when the public fortune belonged to one and all, -each being born, living and dying, in as good circumstances as his -neighbour? Crime became senseless, idiotic, and the whole savage -apparatus of repression and chastisement, instituted to protect -the thefts of a few rich beings from the rebellion of the wretched -multitude, had fallen to pieces like something useless, gendarmes -and law courts and prisons alike being swept away. Living among that -people who knew not the horrors of war, who obeyed the one law of work, -with a solidarity simply based upon reason and individual interest, -properly understood, a people, too, saved from the monstrous falsehoods -of religion, well informed, knowing the truth and bent on justice, -one realised how possible became the alleged 'utopia' of universal -happiness. Since the passions, instead of being combated and stifled, -had been cultivated like the very forces of life, they had lost all -criminal bitterness, and had become social virtues, a continuous -flowering of individual energies. Legitimate happiness lay in the -development and education of the five senses and the sense of love. The -long efforts of mankind ended in the free expansion of the individual, -and in a social system satisfying every need, man being man in his -entirety, and living life in its entirety also. And the happy city had -thus secured realisation in the practice of the religion of life, the -religion of humanity freed from dogmas, finding in itself its _raison -d'être_, its end, its joy, and its glory. - -But Luc particularly beheld the triumph of Work, the saviour, creator, -regulator of the world. He had at the very outset desired to destroy -the iniquitous wage-system, and had dreamt of a new compact which would -allow of a just apportionment of wealth. But what a deal of ground it -had been necessary to traverse! In this respect again the evolution -had started from Fourier, for to him could be traced the association -of workers, the varied, attractive, limited labour of the workshops, -the groups of workers forming successive series, parting to meet again -and mingling with all the constant play of free organs--the play of -life itself. The germs of the Libertarian Commune may be found in -Fourier, for if he repudiated brutal revolution, and began by making -use of the existing mechanism of society, his doctrines tended in -their result to that society's destruction. No doubt the wage-system -had long lingered at the works of La Crêcherie, passing through -various stages of association, division of profits, a percentage of -interest in the common toil. At last it had been transformed in such -a manner as to satisfy the Collectivists, realising their formula, a -regulated circulation of 'vouchers for work.' Nevertheless it still -remained the wage-system, attenuated, disguised, but refusing to die. -And the doctrine of the Libertarian Commune alone had swept it away -in the course of a last advance, that of deliverance by liberty and -justice in their entirety, that chimera of other days, that unity and -harmony which now really lived. At present no authority remained, the -new social compact was based solely on the bond of necessary work, -accepted by all, and constituting both law and cult. An infinity of -groups practised it, starting with the old groups of the building, -clothing, and metal trades, the industrial workers and the tillers -of the soil, but multiplying and varying incessantly, in such wise -as to be adapted to all individual desires as well as to all the -needs of the community. Nothing hindered individual expansion, each -citizen formed part of as many groups as he desired, passed from the -cultivation of the soil to factory work, gave his time as best suited -his faculties and his desires. And there was no longer any contention -between classes, since only one class existed, a whole nation of -workers, equally rich, equally happy, educated to the same level, with -no difference either in attire, or in dwelling-place, or in manners and -customs. Work was king, the only guide, only master, and only deity, -instinct with sovereign nobility, since it had redeemed mankind when it -was dying of falsehood and injustice, and had restored it to vigour and -to the joy of life, and to love, and to beauty. - -Luc laughed gaily when the morning breeze wafted towards him all -the sonorous gaiety of his city. How good, easy, and delightful was -the work performed there! It lasted only a few hours each day, and -so much of it, the most delicate as well as the mightiest task, was -performed by the new machinery which completed man's conquest of -nature and loaded him with wealth and abundance. Freed from long hours -of rough toil, man was the better able to exert his mind; art and -science soared; the level of current mentality was ever rising; great -intelligence ceased to be an exception, and men of genius sprang up in -crowds. - -The science of alimentation had already been revolutionised by -chemistry, the earth might have yielded no more wheat, no more olives, -no more grapes, and yet enough bread, oil, and wine for the whole city -would have come from its laboratories. In physics, in electricity -especially, fresh inventions were ever and ever enlarging the domain -of the possible, and endowing men with the power of gods, knowing all, -seeing all, and capable of all. Then came the flight of art, the growth -and diffusion of beauty in every respect, an extraordinary florescence -of all the arts, now that the soul of the multitude throbbed in every -soul, and that life was lived with all its passions freed, love -given and received in its entirety. Inspired by the universal loving -kindness, music became the very voice of the happy people, through and -for whom musicians found the most sublime chants, in whose continual -harmony theatres, workshops, dwellings, and streets were ever steeped. -And for the people architects built vast and superb palaces, made in -its own image, of a size and a majesty at once varied and yet all one, -like the multitude itself, all the charming variations of thousands -of individualities finding expression in them. Then sculptors peopled -the gardens and museums with living bronze and marble; and painters -decorated the public edifices, the railway stations, the markets, -the libraries, the theatres, and the halls for study and diversion -with scenes borrowed from daily life. Writers moreover gave to that -innumerable people, who all read them, vast, strong, and powerful -works, born of them, created for them. Genius expanded, acquiring fresh -strength from increase of knowledge and freedom among the community; -never before had it displayed such splendour. The narrow, cramped, -aristocratic, hot-house literature of the past had been swept away by -the literature of humanity, poems overflowing with life, which all had -helped to create with their blood, and which returned to the hearts of -all. - -Full of serenity, without fear for the future, Luc watched his town -growing like a beautiful being, endowed with eternal youth. It had -descended from the Brias gorges, between the two promontories of -the Bleuse Mountains, and was now spread over the meadow-land of La -Roumagne. In fine weather its white house-fronts smiled amidst the -verdure without a single puff of smoke besmirching the pure atmosphere, -for there were no chimneys left, electricity having everywhere replaced -coal and wood for heating purposes. The light silk canopy of the -broad blue sky spread over all, immaculate, without a speck of soot. -Thus in aspect the town remained a new one, bright and gay under the -refreshing breezes, whilst on all sides one heard the carolling of -water, the crystalline streaming of springs, whose purity brought -health and perpetual delight. The population steadily increased, fresh -houses were built, fresh gardens were planted. A happy people, free -and brotherly, becomes a centre of attraction, and thus the little -towns of the neighbourhood, Saint-Cron, Formerie, and Magnolles, had -found it necessary to follow the example of Beauclair, and had ended -by becoming so many prolongations of the original city. It had been -sufficient to make an experiment on a small scale, and by degrees -the _arrondissement_, the department, the whole region was won over. -Irresistible happiness was on the march, and nothing will be able to -withstand the force of happiness when men possess a clear and decisive -perception of it. Mankind has known but one struggle through the ages, -the struggle for happiness, which is to be found beneath every form of -religion, every form of government. Egotism is merely an individual -effort to acquire the greatest possible sum of happiness for self; -and why should not each set his egotism in treating his fellows as -brothers when he becomes convinced that the happiness of each rests -in the happiness of all? If there was contention between different -interests in the past, it was because the old social pact opposed them -one to the other, making warfare the very soul of society. But let it -be demonstrated that work reorganised will apportion wealth justly, and -that the passions, playing freely, will lead to harmony and unity, and -then peace will at once ensue, and happiness will be established in -a brotherly contract of solidarity. Why should one fight one against -the other, when interests cease to clash? If all the desperate, -pain-fraught exertions of generations, the prodigious sum of efforts, -blood, and tears that mankind has given to mutual slaughter throughout -so many centuries, had only been devoted to the conquest of the world, -the subjugation of the natural forces, man would long since have been -the absolute, happy sovereign of creatures and things. When humanity -at last became conscious of its imbecile dementia, when man ceased to -be wolfishly inclined towards his brother, and resolved to devote some -of the genius and wealth hitherto squandered in mutual annihilation, -to the common work of happiness, the mastery of the elements, on that -day the nations first started on their march towards the happy city. -And no! it is not true that a nation having its every need satisfied, -having to battle no longer for existence, would thereby gradually lose -the strength it requires to live, and sink into torpor and catalepsy. -The human dream will always be without a limit, there will always -remain much of the Unknown to be conquered. Each time a new craving is -contented, desire will give birth to another, the satisfaction of which -will exalt men and make them heroes of science and beauty. Desire is -infinite, and if men long battled together in order to steal happiness -one from the other, they will battle side by side to increase it, to -make it an immense banquet, resplendent with joy and glory, vast enough -to satiate the passions of thousands of millions of human creatures. -And there will be only heroes left, and each fresh child born into the -world will receive as his birthgift the whole earth, the unbounded -expanse of heaven, and the paternal sun, the source of immortal life. - -As Luc gaily contemplated his triumphant town he often repeated that -love alone had created all the prodigies he beheld. He had sown the -seed, and now he reaped inexhaustible harvests of kindliness and -brotherliness. At the very outset he had felt that it was necessary to -found his city by and for woman if it was to prove fruitful and for -ever desirable and beautiful. Woman saved--Josine set in her due place -of beauty, dignity, and tenderness--was not that the symbol of the -future alliance, the union of the sexes, ensuring social peace, and -free and just life in common? Then, too, the new system of education, -the sexes being reared together and acquiring the same knowledge, had -brought them to a complete understanding, and made them sincerely -desirous of attaining to the one object of life, that object which was -reached by loving a great deal in order that one might be loved a great -deal in return. True wisdom lay in creating happiness, it was thus -that one logically became happy oneself. And now love chose freely; no -law, mutual consent alone, regulated marriage. A young man, a young -girl had known one another since their schooldays, had passed through -the same workshops together, and when they bestowed themselves one -on the other, that bestowal was simply like the florescence of their -long intimacy. They gave themselves to one another for life, long and -faithful unions predominating; they grew old together, even as they had -grown up together, in a bestowal of their whole beings, their rights -being equal, their love equal also. Yet their liberty remained entire, -separation was always possible for those who ceased to agree, and their -offspring remained with one or the other, as they decided, or when -difficulties supervened in the charge of the community. The bitter duel -of man and woman, all the questions which had so long set the sexes one -against the other, like savage, irreconcilable enemies, came to an end -in that solution: woman free in all respects, woman the free companion -of man, resuming her position as an equal, as an indispensable factor -in the union of love. She had a right to abstain from marrying, to -live as a man, to play a man's part as far as she desired, if she -chose; but why should she deny desire, and set herself apart from -life? Only one thing is sensible and beautiful, and that is life in -its entirety. And so the natural order of things had come about, peace -was signed between the reconciled sexes, each finding happiness in the -happiness of a common home tasting at last all the delights of the bond -of love, which was freed from the baseness of pecuniary and social -considerations. One could no longer sell himself for the other's dowry, -families could no longer barter their sons and daughters like mere -merchandise. - -Thus the fulness of love reigned in the community. The sense of love, -developed and purified, became the perfume, the flame, the focus of -existence. It was widespread, general, universal love, springing from -the mated couple, and passing to the mother, the father, the children, -the relations, the neighbours, the citizens, the men and women of the -whole world in ever-broadening waves, a sea of love which ended by -bathing the entire earth. Loving kindness was like the pure air on -which every breast fed; there remained but one breath of brotherly -affection, and that alone had at last brought about the long-dreamt-of -unity, the divine harmony. Humanity--equilibrated like the planets, by -force of attraction, by the law of justice, solidarity and love--would -henceforth journey happily through the eternal infinite. And such was -the ever-recurring harvest, the immense harvest of tenderness and -kindliness, which Luc each morning saw arising from all sides; from -all the furrows which he had sown so abundantly; from his entire city, -where for so many years he had cast the good seed by the handful into -the schools, into the workshops, into every home, and even into every -heart. - -'Look! look!' he said with a laugh some morning when Josine, Sœurette, -and Suzanne remained near his arm-chair before the open window. 'Look, -there are trees which have flowered since last night, and it seems as -if kisses were winging their flight, like song-birds, from some of the -roofs. There, yonder, both on the right and on the left, love flaps his -wings, as it were, in the rising sunlight.' - -The three women joined in his laughter, and jested in a tender way to -please him. 'Certainly,' Josine would say, 'on that side, above that -house with the blue tiles spangled with white stars, there is a great -quiver of the sunlight, telling of internal rapture. That must be the -house of some newly-wedded pair.' - -'And straight before us,' said Sœurette, 'see how the window-panes are -flashing with the splendour of a rising planet, in that house-front -where the faïence ornaments are decorated with roses! Assuredly a child -has been born there.' - -'And on all sides, over all the dwellings, over the whole town the rays -are pouring,' said Suzanne in her turn. 'They form sheaves of wheat, a -field of prodigious fertility. Is it not the peace springing from the -love of all that grows and is harvested there each day?' - -Luc listened to them with rapture. What a delightful reward was that -which he himself had won from love, which had surrounded him with the -sublime affection of those three women, whose presence filled his -last days with perfume and brilliancy! They were full of solicitude, -infinitely good, infinitely loving, with serene eyes which ever -brought him joy in life, and gentle hands which sustained him to the -very threshold of the grave. And they were very old and quite white, -light and aerial like souls, like gay, active, pure flames, glowing -with youthful, eternal passion. He lived on; and they lived on also, -and were like his force, his activity and intelligence, healthy and -strong as they were in spite of everything, coming and going for him -when he himself could no longer move, like guardians, housewives, and -companions, who prolonged and broadened his life far beyond the usual -limits. - -At seventy-eight years of age Josine remained the _amorosa_, the Eve, -who had long ago been saved from error and suffering. Extremely slim, -suggesting a dry, pallid flower that had retained its perfume, she -had preserved her supple gracefulness, her delicate charm. In the -bright sunlight her white hair seemed to recover some of its golden -hue, the sovereign gold of youth. And Luc adored her still, as on -the distant day when he had succoured her, setting in his love for -her his love for the whole suffering people, for all tortured women; -choosing her, indeed, as the most wretched, the most dolorous, in -order that with her--should he save her--he might likewise save all -the disinherited of the world whom shame and hunger were clutching -at the throat. Even nowadays it was religiously that he kissed her -mutilated hand, the wound dealt by iniquitous labour, in the prison -of the wage-system, from which his compassion and love for her had -helped him to extricate the workers. He had not remained unfruitful in -his mission of redemption and deliverance; he had felt the need of -woman, the necessity of being strong and complete in order to redeem -his brothers. It was the mated couple, the fruitful spouse, that had -given birth to the new people. When she had borne him children his work -itself had begun to create, had become lasting. And on her side she -likewise adored him, with the adoration of their first meeting, a flame -of tender gratitude, a gift of her whole person, a passion and a desire -for the infinite of love, whose inextinguishable flame age had not -weakened. - -Sœurette, born the same year as Luc, her eighty-fifth birthday being -near at hand, was the most active of the three women, on her feet, -busy the whole day long. It had long seemed as if she had ceased to -grow older. Small of frame, shrunken even, she had nevertheless been -beautified by gentle age. So dark, so thin, so graceless in former -times, she had become a delightful little old woman, a little white -mouse, whose eyes were full of light. Long ago, in the distressing -crisis of her love for Luc, amidst her grief at loving and remaining -unloved, her good brother Jordan had told her that she would become -resigned, and would sacrifice her passion to the love of others. -And each day she had indeed become more and more resigned, her -renunciation proving at last a source of pure joy, a force of divine -delight. She still loved Luc, she loved him in each of his children -and grandchildren, with whom she had long assisted Josine. And she -loved him with a deeper and deeper love, freed from all egotism, a -chaste flame, that glowed with sisterly affection and motherliness. -The delicate attentions, the discreet comforts which she had lavished -on her brother, were now bestowed on her friend. She was always on the -watch, in order to make his every hour delight. And all her happiness -lay in that: to feel how greatly he himself was attached to her, to end -almost a century of life in that passionate friendship, which was as -sweet as love itself. - -Suzanne, now eight-and-eighty years of age, was the eldest, the most -serious, the most venerable of the women. Slender of figure, she -remained upright, showing a tender countenance, whose only charm, as -in days before, rested in its expression of kindliness, indulgence, -and sterling good sense. But nowadays she could scarcely walk, and her -compassionate eyes alone expressed her craving to interest herself in -others and expend her strength in good work. As a rule she remained -seated near Luc, keeping him company, whilst Josine and Sœurette -quietly and attentively trotted around them. She, on her side, had -loved Luc so tenderly in her sad younger days, loved him with a -consoling love, of which she had long remained ignorant. She had given -herself without knowing it amidst her dream of a hero whom she would -have liked to encourage, assist with her affection. And on the day when -her heart had spoken, the hero was already in another's arms, and only -room for a friend remained at his hearth. She had been that friend for -numerous years now, and had found perfect peace in the communion of -heart and mind in which she had lived with the man who had become her -brother. Doubtless, too, as in the case of Sœurette, if that friendship -proved so delightful, it was because it had sprung from a brasier of -love, and retained its eternal fire. - -Thus Luc, very aged, glorious, and handsome, lived his last days -encompassed by the love of those three women, who also were very old, -glorious, and beautiful. His eighty-five years had failed to bend his -lofty figure, he remained healthy and strong, save for that stiffening -of his legs which kept him at his window like a happy spectator of the -city he had founded. His hair had not fallen from above his lofty, -towering brow, it had simply whitened, surrounding his head with a -great white mane, like that of some old, resting lion. And his last -days were brightened and perfumed by the adoration with which Josine, -Sœurette, and Suzanne surrounded him. He had loved all three of them, -and still loved them with that vast love of his, whence flowed so much -desire, so much brotherliness and kindness. But signs appeared. As with -Jordan, no doubt, the work being done, Luc was soon to die. Somnolence -came over him, like a foretaste of the well-earned repose whose advent -he awaited with joyous serenity. It was with good spirits that he saw -death approaching, for he knew it to be necessary and gentle, and he -had no need of any mendacious promise of a heaven in order to accept -it with a brave heart. Heaven henceforth was set upon the earth, -where the greatest possible sum of truth and justice realised the -ideal, the entirety of human happiness. Each being remained immortal -in the generations born of him, the torrent of love was increased by -each fresh love that came into being, and rolled and rolled along, -assuring eternity to all who had lived, loved, and created. And Luc -knew that, although he might die, he would continually be born anew in -the innumerable men whose lives he had desired to see improved, more -fortunate. That was the only certainty of survival, and it brought him -delightful peace. He had loved others so much, and had expended his -strength so much for the relief of their wretchedness, that he found -reward and beatitude in falling asleep in them, in profiting himself by -his work in the bosom of generations which would ever become happier -and happier. - -Anxious though they felt at seeing him thus gently sinking, Josine, -Sœurette, and Suzanne did not wish to be sad. They opened the windows -every morning in order that the sun might enter freely, they decorated -and perfumed the room with flowers, huge nosegays possessing all -the brightness and aroma of youth. And knowing how attached Luc was -to children, they surrounded him with a joyous party of little lads -and lassies, whose fair and dark heads were like other nosegays--the -flowery to-morrow, the strength and beauty of the years to come. And -when all those little folk were present, laughing and playing around -his arm-chair, Luc smiled at them tenderly and watched their play with -an air of amusement, enraptured at heart at departing amidst such pure -delight, such living hope. - -Now, on the day when death, very just and very good, was to come upon -Luc with the twilight, the three women, who divined its approach by -the expression in the clear eyes of the grand old man, sent for his -great-grandchildren, the very little ones, those who would set the most -childhood, the most future promise around him in his last moments. -And these children brought others, playmates and so forth, some of -them their elders, and all of them descendants of the workers by whose -solidarity and exertion La Crêcherie had formerly been founded. It was -a charming spectacle, that sunlit room full of children and roses, -and the hero, the old lion with the white mane, still cheerfully and -lovingly taking an interest in the little ones. He recognised them all, -named them, and questioned them. - -A tall lad of eighteen, François, the son of Hippolyte Mitaine and -Laure Fauchard, strove to restrain his tears as he looked at him. - -'Come and shake hands with me, my handsome François,' said Luc. 'You -must not be sad, you see how cheerful we all are. And be a good man. -You have grown taller lately, you will make a superb sweetheart for -some charming girl.' - -Then came the turn of two girls of fifteen, Amélie, the daughter of -Alexandre Feuillat and Clémentine Bourron, and Simonne, the daughter -of Adolphe Laboque and Germaine Yvonnot. 'Ah! you at least are gay, -my pretty ones,' said Luc, 'and it is right that you should be so. -Come and let me kiss you on your fresh cheeks, and be always gay and -beautiful, for therein lies happiness.' - -Then he only recognised his own descendants, whose number was destined -to multiply without cessation. Two of his grandchildren were present, -a granddaughter aged eighteen, Alice, who had sprung from Charles -Froment and Claudine Bonnaire, and a grandson of sixteen, Richard, who -had sprung from Jules Froment and Céline Lenfant. Only the unmarried -grandchildren had been invited, for the room could not have held the -married ones with their wives and families. And Luc laughed yet more -tenderly as he called Alice and Richard to him. 'Sly fair Alice,' said -he, 'you are of an age to marry now. Choose a lad who is joyous and -healthy like yourself. Ah! is it done already? Then love one another -well, and may your children be as healthy and joyous as you are.--And -you Richard, my big fellow, you are about to begin your apprenticeship -as a bootmaker, I hear, and you also have a perfect passion for music. -Well, work and sing, and be a genius!' - -But at this moment he was surrounded by a stream of little ones. Three -boys and a girl, all of them his grandchildren, tried to climb upon -his knees. He began by taking the eldest, a boy of seven, Georges, the -son of a pair of cousins, Maurice Morfain and Berthe Jollivet, Maurice -being the son of Raymond Morfain and Thérèse Froment, whilst Berthe was -one of the daughters of André Jollivet and Pauline Froment. - -'Ah! my dear little Georges, the dear little grandson of my two -daughters--Thérèse the brunette, and Pauline the blonde. Your eyes -used to be like my Pauline's, but now they are becoming like those -of my Thérèse. And your fresh and laughing mouth, whose is that? Is -it Thérèse's or Pauline's? Give me a good kiss, a good kiss, my dear -little Georges, so that you may remember me for a long, long time.' - -Then came the turn of Grégoire Bonnaire, who was barely five years -old. He was the son of Félicien Bonnaire and Hélène Jollivet; Félicien -having sprung from Séverin Bonnaire and Léonie Gourier, and Hélène -being the daughter of André Jollivet and Pauline Froment. - -'Another of my Pauline's little men!' said Luc. 'Eh, my little -Grégoire, isn't grandmamma Pauline very kind, hasn't she always -plenty of nice things in her hands? And you love me, too, your -great-grandpapa, don't you, Grégoire? And you will always wish to be -good and handsome when you remember me, eh? Kiss me, give me a good -kiss.' - -By way of conclusion he took up the two others, Clément and Luce, -brother and sister, one on his right and the other on his left knee. -Clément was five and Luce two years old. They were the children of -Ludovic Boisgelin and Mariette Froment. But at the thought of Ludovic -and Mariette a host of memories arose, for he was the son of Paul -Boisgelin and Antoinette Bonnaire, and she, the daughter of Hilaire -Froment and Colette, the eldest child of Nanet and Nise. The Delaveaus, -the Boisgelins, the Bonnaires mingling with the Froments, were born -anew in those pure brows, that light and curly hair. - -'Come, little Clément, come little Luce, my pets,' said Luc. 'If you -only knew all that I recognise, all that I read in the depths of your -bright eyes. You are already very good and strong, little Clément, I -know it well, for grandfather Hilaire has told me, and is well pleased -to hear you always laughing! And you, little Luce, my little mite who -can scarcely talk, one knows that you are a brave little girl, for you -never cry, but gaily stretch your chubby little hands towards the good -sun. You also must kiss me, my beautiful well-loved children, the best -of myself, all my strength and all my hope!' - -The others had drawn near, and he would have liked to have had arms -long enough to embrace and press every one of them to his heart. It was -to them that he confided the future, that he bequeathed his work as to -new forces which would ever enlarge it. He had always relied on the -children, the future generations, to complete the work of happiness. -And those dear children who had sprung from him and by whom he was so -lovingly surrounded in the serene peacefulness of his last hour, what a -testament of justice, truth, and kindness he left them, and with what -intense passion he appointed them the executors of his will, his dream -of humanity freed more and more, and dwelling together in happiness! - -'Go, go, my dear children! Be good, very good, and very just with one -another! Remember that you all kissed me to-day; and always love me -well, and love each other well also! You will know everything some day, -you will do as we have done, and it will be for your children to do -as you do. Let there be plenty of work, plenty of life, and plenty of -love! Meantime, my dear children, go and play, and keep full of health -and gaiety!' - -Josine, Sœurette, and Suzanne then wished to send the joyous band home, -for fear of a noise, as they could see that Luc was growing weaker and -weaker. But he would not consent to this--he desired that the children -might remain near him, in order that he might gently depart amidst the -joyous sounds of their laughter. It was then arranged that they should -play in the garden under his window. He could thus hear and see them, -and felt well pleased. - -The sun--a great summer sun which made the whole town resplendent--was -already sinking on the horizon. It gilded the room as with a glory, -and Luc, seated in his arm-chair amidst that splendour, long remained -silent, gazing the while far away. Josine and Sœurette, silent like -himself, came and leant one on his right, the other on his left, whilst -Suzanne, seated close by, appeared to be sharing his dream. At last, -in a voice which seemed to become more and more distant, he slowly -said: 'Yes, our town is yonder. Regenerated Beauclair scintillates in -the pure atmosphere, and I know that the neighbouring towns--Brias, -Magnolles, Formerie, and Saint-Cron--have followed us, won over by our -example to the cause of all-powerful happiness. But what is becoming -of the world beyond the horizon, on the other side of the Bleuse -Mountains, and beyond the great dim plain of La Roumagne--what point -have the provinces and nations reached in the long struggle, the -difficult and bloody march towards the happy city?' - -Again he became silent, full of thought. He was aware that the -evolution was in progress everywhere, spreading each hour with -increasing speed. From the towns the movement had gained the provinces, -then the whole nation, and then the neighbouring nations; and -there were no more frontiers, no more insurmountable mountains and -oceans--deliverance flew from continent to continent, sweeping away -governments and religions and uniting races. However, things did not on -all sides take the same course. Whilst the evolution, in the form of -a slow advance towards the conquest of every liberty, had progressed -at Beauclair without too much battling, thanks to the experiment of -association made there, on other sides it was revolution which had -broken out, and blood had flowed amidst massacre and conflagration. No -two neighbouring states indeed had taken the same road; it was after -following the most varied and contrary paths that the nations were to -meet at last in one and the same fraternal city, the metropolis of the -human federation. - -And Luc, as in a dream, repeated in his failing voice: 'Ah! I should -like to know--yes, before quitting my work I should like to know how -far the great task has now advanced. I should sleep better; I should -carry yet more certainty and hope away with me.' - -Silence fell again. Josine, Sœurette, and Suzanne, very old, very -beautiful, and very good, were, like himself, still dreaming, with -their glances wandering afar. - -It was at last Josine who began: 'I have heard of things--a traveller -told them me,' she said. 'In one great Republic the Collectivists -became the masters of power. For years they had waged the most -desperate of political battles in order to gain possession of the -legislature and the government. And as they were unable to do so in -legal fashion, they had recourse to a _coup d'état_ when they felt -strong enough for one, and certain of substantial support among the -nation. On the morrow, by laws and decrees, they put their entire -programme into force. Expropriation _en masse_ began, all private -wealth became the wealth of the nation, all the instruments of -work reverted to the workers. No landowners, nor capitalists, nor -employers were left; the State reigned alone, master of everything, -both landowner and capitalist and employer, regulator and distributor -of social life. But, of course, that tremendous shock, those sudden -radical changes, could not take place without terrible troubles -arising. The classes would not allow themselves to be dispossessed even -of property they had stolen, and there were frightful outbreaks on all -sides. Landowners preferred to get killed on the threshold of their -estates. Other people destroyed their property, flooded mines, broke up -railroads, annihilated factories and goods, whilst capitalists burnt -their scrip and flung their gold into the sea. Certain houses had to -be besieged, whole towns had to be taken by assault. That frightful -civil war lasted for years, and the pavements of the towns became red -with blood, whilst the rivers still and ever carried corpses to the -ocean. Then the sovereign State experienced all sorts of difficulties -in getting the new order of things to work smoothly. An hour's work -became the standard of value, exchanges being facilitated by a system -of vouchers. At first a statistical commission was established to -watch over production and distribute products in accordance with each -person's amount of work. Then other controlling offices were found -necessary, and little by little an intricate organisation grew up, -impeding the working of the new social system. People fell into a kind -of regimentation and barrack life; never had men been penned up in -smaller compartments. And yet evolution was taking place, even this was -a step towards justice; for work rose to honour once more, and wealth -was each day divided with more equity. At the end, assuredly, there lay -the disappearance of the wage-system and of capital--the suppression -of trade and money. And I have been told that this Collectivist State, -ravaged by so many catastrophes, deluged with so much blood, is -to-day entering the sphere of peace, coming at last to the fraternal -solidarity of the free, working nations.' - -Josine ceased speaking, and again relapsed into a mute contemplation -of the great horizon. But Luc gently replied: 'Yes, that was one of -the bloody paths, one of those which I would not follow. But now, what -matters it, since it has led them to the same unity, the same harmony -as our own?' - -Then Sœurette, still gazing far away, as if exploring the world behind -the gigantic promontories of the Bleuse Mountains, in her turn took -up the tale: 'I also heard a story--some eye-witnesses told me these -frightful things. They happened in a vast neighbouring empire where -the Anarchists by means of bombs and shrapnel succeeded in blowing -up the old social framework. The people had suffered so dreadfully -that they ended by leaguing themselves with the Anarchists in order -to complete the liberating work of destruction, and sweep away the -last crumbs of the rotten world. For a long time the cities flared -like torches in the night, amidst the howling of the old butchers of -the people, who in their turn were now being slaughtered, and who did -not wish to die. And this was the prophesied deluge of blood, the -fruitful necessity of which had long been foretold by the prophets of -Anarchy. Afterwards the new times began. The cry was no longer: "To -each according to his work," but: "To each according to his needs." -Man had a right to life, lodging, clothing, and daily bread. So all -the wealth was heaped together and divided, people only being rationed -when there was a lack of abundance. But with all mankind at work, and -nature exploited scientifically and methodically, there must come -incalculable produce, an immense fortune, sufficient to satisfy the -appetites of all. When the thieving and parasitic society of olden time -had disappeared, together with money, the source of all crimes, and the -savage laws of restriction and repression which had been the sources -of every iniquity, peace would reign in the Libertarian community, in -which the happiness of each would be derived from the happiness of all. -And there was to be no more authority of any kind, no more laws, no -more government. If the Anarchists had accepted iron and fire as their -instruments, believing in the sanguinary necessity of extermination as -a first step, it was because they were convinced that they could not -utterly destroy monarchical and religious atavism, and for ever crush -the last surviving germs of authority, unless the ancient sore should -be thus brutally cauterised. In order that one might not be caught -in the toils again it was necessary to sever every living link with -a past of error and despotism. All politics were evil and poisonous, -because they were fatally compounded of compromises and bargains, in -which the disinherited were duped. And the lofty, pure dream of Anarchy -had sought realisation when the old world had been ruined and swept -away. That dream was the broadest and the most ideal conception of a -just and peaceful human race, man free in a free state of society, and -each man delivered from every hindrance and shackle, living in the -full enjoyment of all his senses and faculties, fully exercising his -right to live and to be happy through his share in the possession of -all the wealth of the earth. But then, Anarchy had gradually become -merged into the Communist evolution, for in reality it was only a -form of political negation, and simply differed from other kinds of -socialism by its determination to throw everything down before building -up afresh. It accepted association, the constitution of free groups -living by exchanges, constantly circulating, expending their strength -and reconstituting themselves, like the very blood of the human body; -and thus the great empire where it triumphed amidst massacre and -conflagration, has now joined the other freed nations in the universal -federation.' - -Sœurette ceased speaking and remained motionless and dreamy, with her -elbow resting on the back of Luc's arm-chair. He, whose voice was -thickening, slowly said: 'Yes, the Anarchists, after the Collectivists, -were bound to follow the disciples of Fourier on the last day on -reaching the threshold of the promised land. If the roads were -different, the goal remained identical.' And after thinking a while he -resumed: 'Yet, how many tears, how much blood, how many abominable wars -there have been in order to win that fraternal peace which all equally -desired! How many centuries of fratricidal slaughter have followed one -after the other when the question was simply whether one ought to turn -to right or left in order to reach happiness more quickly!' - -Then Suzanne, who hitherto had remained silent, and whose eyes also -had been wandering beyond the horizon, at last spoke in a voice which -quivered with compassion: 'Ah! the last war, the last battle! It was -so frightful that when it was over men for ever destroyed their swords -and their guns. It took place during the earlier stage of the great -social crises which have renewed the world, and I was told of it by -men who had well nigh lost their senses amidst that supreme shock of -the nations. In that crisis which distracted them, whilst they were -pregnant with the future, one-half of Europe rushed upon the other -half, and other continents followed them, and fleets of ships battled -on all the oceans for dominion over water and earth. Not a single -nation was able to remain apart, in a state of neutrality, they all -dragged one another forward; and two immense armies entered into -line, glowing with hereditary fury, and resolved upon exterminating -one another, as if out of every two men there was one too many in the -empty, barren fields. And the two huge armies of hostile brothers -met in the centre of Europe, on some vast plains where millions of -beings had space to murder one another. Over leagues and leagues did -the troops deploy, followed by reinforcements; such a torrent of men, -indeed, that the battle lasted for a month. Each day that dawned there -still remained human flesh for bullets and shells. The combatants did -not even take time to remove their dead; the piles of corpses formed -walls, behind which new regiments ever advanced in order to get killed. -And night did not stay the battle, men murdered one another in the -darkness. Each time that the sun arose it illumined yet larger pools -of blood, a field of carnage where death in his horrible harvesting -piled the corpses of the soldiers in loftier and loftier ricks. And on -all sides there was lightning, entire army corps disappeared amidst a -clap of thunder. It was not necessary that the combatants should draw -near or even see each other, their guns carried long miles, and threw -shells which in exploding swept acres of ground bare, and asphyxiated -and poisoned all around. Balloons also threw bombs from the very -heavens, setting towns ablaze as they passed. Science had invented -explosives and murderous engines which carried death over prodigious -distances, and annihilated a whole community as suddenly as an -earthquake might have done. And what a monstrous massacre showed forth -on the last evening of that gigantic battle! Never before had such a -huge human sacrifice smoked beneath the heavens! More than a million -men lay there in the great ravaged fields, alongside the watercourses, -across the meadows. One could walk for hours and hours, and one ever -met a yet larger harvest of slaughtered soldiers, who lay there with -their eyes wide open, and their black mouths agape, as if to cry aloud -that mankind was mad! And that was the last battle, to such a degree -did horror freeze every heart when men awakened from that frightful -intoxication, born of greed for dominion, lust for power; whilst the -conviction came to all that war was no longer possible, since science -in its almightiness was destined to be the sovereign creator of life, -and not the artisan of destruction.' - -Then Suzanne in her turn relapsed into silence, quivering the while, -but with bright eyes, radiant indeed with the peace of the future. And -Luc, whose voice was becoming a mere breath, concluded: 'Yes, war is -dead, the supreme _étape_ has been reached, the brotherly kiss comes -after the long, rough, dolorous journey. And my day is over, I can now -go to sleep.' - -He spoke no more. That last minute was august and sweet. Josine, -Sœurette, and Suzanne did not stir, but waited, exempt from sadness, -full indeed of tender fervour in that calm room, gay with flowers and -sunshine. Under the window the joyous children were still playing--one -could hear the shrill cries of the very little ones, and the laughter -of their elders, all the mirth of the future on the march to broader -and broader joys. And then there was the friendly sun resplendent on -the horizon, the sun, the fertiliser, the father, whose creative -force had been captured and domesticated. And under the flaring of its -rays of glory appeared the glittering roofs of triumphant Beauclair, -the busy hive where by a just apportionment of this world's riches -regenerated work now only created happy folk. And yet again beyond La -Roumagne, and on the other side of the Bleuse Mountains, there was -the coming federation of the peoples, the one sole brotherly nation, -mankind at last fulfilling its destiny of truth and justice and peace. - -Then, for the last time, Luc gazed around him, his glance embracing the -town, the horizon, the whole earth, where the evolution which he had -started was progressing, and drawing nigh to completion. The work was -done, the city was founded. 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