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+This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements,
+metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be
+in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES.
+
+Procedures for determining public domain status are described in
+the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org.
+
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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #68557 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/68557)
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-The Project Gutenberg eBook of You no longer count, by René Boylesve
-
-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: You no longer count
-
-Author: René Boylesve
-
-Translator: Louise Seymour Houghton
-
-Release Date: July 18, 2022 [eBook #68557]
-
-Language: English
-
-Produced by: Laura Natal Rodrigues (Images generously made available by
- Hathi Trust Digital Library.)
-
-*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK YOU NO LONGER COUNT ***
-
-
-_YOU_ NO LONGER
-COUNT
-
-(TU N'ES PLUS RIEN!)
-
-
-
-
-BY
-
-
-
-
-RENÉ BOYLESVE
-
-
-
-
-TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH
-
-BY
-
-LOUISE SEYMOUR HOUGHTON
-
-
-
-
-NEW YORK
-
-CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS
-
-1918
-
-
-
-
-CONTENTS
-CHAPTER I
-CHAPTER II
-CHAPTER III
-CHAPTER IV
-CHAPTER V
-CHAPTER VI
-CHAPTER VII
-CHAPTER VIII
-CHAPTER IX
-CHAPTER X
-CHAPTER XI
-CHAPTER XII
-CHAPTER XIII
-CHAPTER XIV
-CHAPTER XV
-CHAPTER XVI
-CHAPTER XVII
-CHAPTER XVIII
-CHAPTER XIX
-CHAPTER XX
-CHAPTER XXI
-CHAPTER XXII
-CHAPTER XXIII
-CHAPTER XXIV
-CHAPTER XXV
-CHAPTER XXVI
-CHAPTER XXVII
-CHAPTER XXVIII
-CHAPTER XXIX
-CHAPTER XXX
-CHAPTER XXXI
-CHAPTER XXXII
-CHAPTER XXXIII
-CHAPTER XXXIV
-CHAPTER XXXV
-CHAPTER XXXVI
-
-
-
-
-_YOU_ NO LONGER COUNT
-
-
-
-
-I
-
-
-From the swoon into which the sudden, agonizing shock had thrown her,
-her soul escaped, shook itself free, as the mind shakes off a nightmare.
-There is first a sensation of relief from discomfort, then a cheering
-sense of safety, and one slips contentedly into a half-slumber. Then it
-all begins again, for one no longer believes that it answers to any
-reality.
-
-Was she still asleep? Was it memory, was it imagination that unrolled
-before her vision pictures of the past which yet her musings had never
-till then evoked, and which suddenly presented themselves with annoying
-vividness? There were whisperings, murmuring voices in the next room.
-She was aware of them, yet to the unwonted sounds she paid no attention;
-the gentle, persistent pressure of an invisible hand turned back her
-thoughts to days gone by.
-
-A hushed step upon the carpet, a finger questioning her pulse, no more
-disturbed her than the familiar cry of the huckster in the street. She
-did not wonder: "What, am I ill? Are they anxious about me? Why am I in
-bed, in broad daylight, I so young, so unused to illness of any kind?"
-She was recalling a certain time, days that seemed far remote, a period
-of her life that seemed to have been acted before her eyes, like a play
-in the theatre.
-
-A summer month of one of the previous years. She saw again the last days
-in her suburban home, just outside of Paris, the sloping garden and the
-vista through the leafage over far-distant hills, splendid and ethereal.
-Every one was getting ready for the summer holiday; some of the men were
-going to the training-camps. What a world of talk! What discussions with
-friends who had been invited to the country for an afternoon of
-farewells! They were a world by themselves--young, alert, fond of
-pleasure, and of all things beautiful and adventurous, care-free, and
-charming. The oldest of the men was M. de la Villaumer, whose hair was
-beginning to turn gray, but who enjoyed himself only among kindly faces.
-Several were artists--musicians or painters. They loved the beautiful
-things of life and that life of the intellect which easily adapts itself
-to the beautiful. Love was king in their circle, a love rather kindly
-than passionate, whose ravages they had learned how to conceal. Yet many
-admirable couples were found among them. Odette Jacquelin and her
-husband were always cited as the most enamoured pair of the group. After
-them came Clotilde and George Avvogade, who cooed like turtle-doves, but
-were lovers only "for a curtain-raiser," it used to be said. Rose
-Misson, whom they called "good Rose," Simone de Prans, Germaine Le
-Gault, were all women who adored their husbands and asked for no other
-happiness, having no idea of anything else than happiness.
-
-Why, they used to ask, was Jean Jacquelin an officer of reserves? What
-was the sense of that biennial war-game for a chap who had nothing
-military in him, whether by tradition, education, or belief? The old
-father had made a point of it, because he held to the ineradicable
-prejudices of his time. As for Jean himself, he made light of it; he was
-a young fellow well on the way to make a fortune and give Odette all the
-luxuries that in their circle were considered not superfluities, but
-things indispensable. It never occurred to him that any other purpose
-could seriously occupy a man's mind. Without entering into the thousand
-and one interests of certain of his more cultivated friends who were
-given to reasoning and theorizing, he simply found that the uniform of a
-sublieutenant was becoming, and that, when he was obliged to wear it, it
-was simply an opportunity to make himself fit; physical fatigue was
-nothing to him; he might be inclined to think the Grand Manœuvres a
-superannuated exercise; he might even smile at them and amuse himself by
-enumerating the blunders of such and such a commander; but something
-always kept him from ever making light of the thing itself. For that
-matter, being a reserve officer was perhaps one of the many whims of
-society, but it was what is called decent; in certain circles it was
-done. So he let them talk and harangue, opposing no arguments but
-continuing to be a reserve officer, carrying through his period of
-instruction when he was called.
-
-This time the young wife had gone with him as far as Tours, to be with
-him a few hours longer and after that to receive his letters more
-promptly. How long the time had seemed, all alone in the Hôtel de
-l'Univers! And yet she had a pretty room! She had amused herself with
-piquing public curiosity on the Rue Nationale, with her little
-walking-suit of the latest cut, and her simple canoe hat--quite the
-"Parisienne on a holiday"--and the elegance of her manners, at once
-independent and circumspect, as were all her ways. It was generally
-agreed that she was pretty. Who was not asking questions about her in
-the hotel, at the restaurant? It had amused her to see a family of
-tourists inventing pretexts for changing places at their small table,
-this one in order to face her, that one in order that the grown-up son
-might not face her. And how they had stared at her!
-
-Telegrams had come from the sublieutenant. "Be at Pont-de-Piles
-to-morrow, darling," or "Ligueil, such a day for lunch," or "Loches,
-Hôtel de France, after breaking up." And she had sometimes waited a
-long while in wayside inns or beside dusty highways.
-
-Conversations at table began to come back to her. Every one had been
-talking of the manœuvres, discussing the names of generals, the
-communes that were being occupied. The presence of the President of the
-Republic was an event in the countryside. There had been old men who
-would consent to speak of nothing nearer than 1870; others, of fewer
-years, would recall the magnificent condition of the reconstituted army
-at the time of Gambetta's death, or at the period of the Schnaebele
-affair, when the country was so near to seeing it in action. A
-politician of the neighborhood--not more stupid, after all, than most of
-his contemporaries--rubicund, his eyes bloodshot at the end of dinner,
-had fallen foul of all these memories, regrets, would-be warlike
-emotions, and turned them upside down like eggs in a frying-pan.
-According to him, war was the scourge of bygone ages. France, the nation
-of progress, still consented to carry on a semblance of it, by way of
-facilitating necessary transitions, but it was a mere play of protocols,
-a final concession to the past. War was destructive; modern society was
-interested wholly in production; to believe in war was to turn back the
-clock of history. For that matter, every well-informed person was aware
-that scientific means of destruction had become such that a fratricidal
-conflict had been rendered impossible, im-pos-si-ble! One must be an
-idiot not to perceive that everything would be reduced to fragments in
-the twinkling of an eye. The manœuvres! ah, you made him laugh with
-your manœuvres! The manœuvres were no more like war than a toy pistol
-was like a German mortar. War, should it ever break out, would not last
-the time it would take to concentrate your army corps; the first of two
-adversaries who should be half a day ahead would bring the other to cry
-mercy.
-
-"Well, say," some one had interrupted, "it wouldn't be a bad plan, then,
-to do one's best to get that half-day's advance?"
-
-"Useless! Count your population, consider your aspirations. Think of the
-finances. Finances! There is not a country of great armaments that could
-maintain war for six weeks, nor one that could even endure three years'
-preparation for war.... Ask the great banks, which have the world in
-leading-strings, emperors and kings as well as peoples; don't deceive
-yourselves; war is impossible, im-pos-si-ble! We are witnessing, with
-your manœuvres, the final deeds of a prehistoric age.... Turn your eyes
-to the future, gentlemen, and all this bedizened and vociferous gang
-will seem to you like children's toys!"
-
-"But Germany--the militant party--the Pangermanists?"
-
-"Germany is a pacific nation, industrial and commercial, which uses its
-cannon as an advertising dodge. What we lack--don't you know?--is
-precisely business sense. And Germany has business sense. The military
-party? A drop of water in a lake. The Pangermanists? Advertising men in
-the pay of the national industry. In the first place, the Emperor, as
-every one says who has seen him near at hand, is a secret friend of
-France ... and I will add, the most republican of us all. Socialism,
-that's his enemy! ... The army that we need is not a rabble of soldiers,
-but a group of men bent upon keeping the peace. Humanity is on the
-march--it can never be repeated too often--toward a future of liberty,
-equality, fraternity. Ah, you must reckon with economic rivalry; that is
-the law of life."
-
-"Precisely so."
-
-Memory, quickened no doubt by her feverish condition, brought back to
-the young wife with extraordinary precision, even to the least of them,
-these utterances overheard at her solitary little table. True, she had
-amused herself with repeating them to the sublieutenant, her
-husband--she even recalled the moment--he was splashing in his bath,
-soaping himself, on his return from the manœuvres. He had laughed with
-all his heart, for when Jean had come back from the manœuvres he was
-another man from what he had been when going to them. Only a few days of
-presence with the corps, among his military comrades, had transformed
-him or, more correctly, had restored him to his normal disposition; or,
-in any case, had made him victor over the indolence with which he
-usually replied to the fine talkers of Paris.
-
-As for Odette, she had attached not the slightest importance to any of
-these ideas, by whomever enunciated. Brought up in the one religion of
-happiness, she held that happiness through love was the sole boon to be
-asked of fate. What was the use of arguing? Why think about calamity?
-Did not certain of her friends, those most reputed for intelligence,
-insist that it was the honor of civilized man not even to think of acts
-of barbarism, that man raised himself in dignity as he neglected to
-prepare himself to make use of arms? Among many other sayings the
-oft-repeated, if somewhat cynical, pronouncement of M. de la Villaumer
-came back to her: "We are not in a condition to make war. We are unaware
-how far we are not in a condition to make war, because we do not in the
-least know what war is. If war is made upon us, as there is reason to
-fear--as well the deluge."
-
-And yet, that day, on coming out of his bath, Jean had become so wrought
-up in talking of the army that he had almost made his wife afraid! She
-had thrown her arms around him as he wrapped himself in his bathrobe,
-saying:
-
-"Don't talk so, Jean! Oh, imagine, if even you were to be so much as
-disfigured by an ugly wound! Your lovely eyes, my darling! Your
-beautiful teeth!--No, that would drive me wild!"
-
-And because he had laughed, laughed heartily, so as completely to close
-his lovely eyes, she had at once thought of something else.
-
-Without ever thinking of going even slightly into subjects of this sort,
-she had been buoyed up by a great credulity, born of optimism; not,
-indeed, as to war, which interested her not the least, but as to Jean,
-who alone was of consequence, and who, as a "reserve officer," she was
-sure could not be called to take part in a campaign. It was an artless
-idea, rooted in her mind by the pressure of her exuberant happiness. For
-nothing in the world would she have tried to get at the root of it, lest
-the result should prove uncomfortable. It was the same self-indulgent,
-mental indolence which, for example, had withheld her from asking
-herself the meaning of words that dropped from her husband's lips:
-
-"Well, here I am, attached to the covering troops. You and I will not be
-able to go into Touraine." Well, they would not be able to go into
-Touraine; they would go somewhere else.
-
-Then memory carried her on to the beginning of last season, at the
-seashore. The weather had been so fine! Jean had been so lucky as to get
-his vacation from his commercial house by the 15th of July; they had
-gone to Surville. The Hotel de Normandie was already well filled, the
-Casino was crowded, sports were humming, the Little Theatre was
-exhibiting Parisian vedettes, a row of autos was sending vile smells up
-to the terrace where every one sat of afternoons imbibing soft drinks
-and roasting in the sun to the music of the gypsy orchestra; elegant
-young men were displaying khaki costumes, martingales, and broad-brimmed
-hats. In the evening every one had danced the tango in the hall. The
-great stir of the watering-place had begun--futile doings without
-number, comings and goings, from bar to bar, from casino to casino, from
-luncheon to luncheon.
-
-"Oh, say, are you coming? Look here, Jean! Aren't you tiresome, always
-reading despatches! One would say that you were expecting something to
-happen. What concern is it of yours?"
-
-Every evening, on their way to the great hall of the Casino through the
-gallery that looked out upon the sea, whether going to the theatre or
-the music-hall, or simply intending to sit down and drink their coffee
-or their camomile, they had found a crowd of, men in tuxedos standing
-before the frame that hung on the right of the door, on which despatches
-from Paris and quotations of the Bourse were posted. Odette could still
-hear the reproaches she had addressed to her husband as he returned with
-unwonted seriousness from reading them.
-
-"Well, what about it all?" she had asked. Jean had kept back some of the
-more sensational news, but one evening he had added:
-
-"There is an ultimatum to Serbia."
-
-"What of that?"
-
-Nothing more had been said. But Jean had risen twice from his chair to
-speak to men whom he knew, conferring with them in the lobby, then
-returning to his wife.
-
-"Oh, nothing will happen yet," he had said.
-
-This had gone on for several evenings. It had become necessary to
-explain some things. Then Odette herself had become anxious; she would
-go with her husband to read the despatches; she would go to them by
-herself in the daytime. But the number of readers was increasing, and
-the silence, or the few words that would escape from the group, troubled
-her; she would go down to the beach to read the despatches at the
-_Figaro_ kiosk. Threats of war? ... European war? ... War? ... No,
-surely that was not likely. The idea was finding extreme difficulty in
-penetrating people's skulls. Despatch was succeeding despatch, twice a
-day, now reassuring, now disturbing; but whenever one contained matter
-for alarm, it was always better founded than that of the previous day.
-
-Odette had at last asked her husband:
-
-"Well, if by any chance there should be war, would that affect
-you--yourself?"
-
-"Don't be in a hurry, my darling; war has not yet been declared."
-
-"But--but--if it should be?"
-
-"Well, if it should be, I am a reserve officer."
-
-"What is the reserve? Is it when there are no more active soldiers?"
-
-He had kissed her, laughing. Not long before a relative of one of the
-most influential bankers in Paris had declared, at a neighboring table,
-that "All was arranged!" But the next morning a rumor had been spread at
-the Casino that the news was so discouraging it had not been posted.
-Jean had gone to ascertain. The rumor had been confirmed. Then he had
-said to his wife: "It is time to take precautions. Listen, my darling, I
-shall go to Paris this evening. I will set my business in order, I will
-see La Villaumer, who knows everything, and Avvogade, who lunches with
-the President of the Council. I shall learn what can be learned, and I
-shall try to return by night."
-
-Once again she could hear all these words, could see again his slightest
-actions, could imagine La Villaumer, so far--seeing, and Clotilde
-Avvogade, surrounded by her flowers in her almost too delicious
-apartment, making a face when she heard her husband talking of
-disagreeable things. She lived over again the sad night that she had
-passed alone, sleepless, and the bat that had flown into her room like a
-little devil, and the faces next morning at the Casino, on the beach,
-everywhere! And the departures, the almost empty hotel, ever since that
-evening when she had been expecting her husband--the evening when he did
-not come!
-
-He did not come because he had found in Paris an order to "join
-immediately for a period of instruction." He had telegraphed to her:
-"Don't leave; all will be well; will write."
-
-A period of instruction! So suddenly decided upon! What did that mean?
-Was it war? She had asked the people around her. Some had seemed stunned
-by her question; others had said: "A period of instruction? Nothing is
-more usual."
-
-"As a matter of fact, they are mobilizing," some one had remarked. A
-gentleman had said: "No, madame, mobilization cannot be other than
-general. It may be that certain officers have been summoned
-individually, but that is merely a measure of precaution; the situation
-is evidently strained."
-
-"But why should he be called and not others? He is only an officer of
-reserves."
-
-"That depends upon the locality of his depot, no doubt. Do you know
-where it is?"
-
-"I know that he formerly belonged to the Eleventh Corps, but I think he
-has been passed over to Nancy."
-
-"Covering troops. Ah--ah!"
-
-"That is it precisely, sir; he is attached to the covering troops."
-
-"Oh, very well! Oh, very well!"
-
-She had found another woman in the same case as herself, or nearly so.
-But the husband of this one, who also had been individually called, was
-a captain in active service, and in garrison at Pont-à-Mousson.
-
-"That one," Odette had said to herself; "it is all over with him."
-
-The difference had seemed to be to her own advantage, and her courage
-had risen correspondingly. Jean was only a sublieutenant; he belonged
-only to the reserves. She was absorbed in compassion for the other
-woman, so different in character from herself, bravely prepared for the
-war and ready to sacrifice everything; who had said: "I regret that my
-boys are not grown; they would be so many more defenders of the
-country."
-
-Odette had been as ill prepared as possible for such an utterance.
-Everything about it surprised her; she could not understand it in the
-least.
-
-A lady had arrived from Paris, the wife of a deputy. She had said to any
-who would listen:
-
-"I may as well tell you; mobilization will be ordered to-morrow."
-
-The weather had been ideally fine, though there had been a suggestion of
-thunderstorms in the west. Children were playing on the beach; the sea,
-under a cloudless sky, was calm even to torpor. One could see Havre
-stretched along in the sunlight, like a greyhound panting with heat; in
-the distance were noble passenger-ships, and tiny sails apparently
-motionless. Never had the sky, the sea, the land, appeared so much to
-long for peace; never, perhaps, had the joy of existence been more
-imperious. Whatever might be the subjects of alarm, everything cried
-aloud that to believe in coming misfortune was impossible.
-
-The next day, Saturday, August I, Odette, distressed by vague talk that
-gave no definite information, had gone to the post with a letter to her
-dear Jean. She had addressed it to Paris, since she had no knowledge
-where to reach him. It was about four o'clock. She had seen a group
-forming before the mayor's office, and the town drummer arriving, with a
-long retinue of street urchins at his heels. The drummer was a tall
-youth, lean and wan, grave with a gravity not usual in a town drummer
-who has to announce that a little, long-haired, bright-gray dog is lost.
-The crowd had gathered around him with frantic eagerness, while he
-executed his preliminary performance. Then, drawing a paper from his
-pocket, he had unfolded it and read at the top of his voice, without the
-slightest change of countenance:
-
-"General mobilization is declared! The first day of mobilization is
-Sunday, August 2. No man may set out without first consulting the bill
-which will be immediately posted." And the drummer had beaten the ban.
-
-With a single impulse, as if under orders, the crowd, mainly composed of
-young men, had raised their hats, crying: "_Vive la France_!" One lad
-had said: "_Vive la guerre_!" And the drummer had departed to repeat his
-message at another crossroads.
-
-It had seemed a perfectly simple event, something almost usual, at the
-junction of these four streets of the little town. A deed done; the
-pattering of dispersing feet; silence! And this simple act, repeated
-hundreds of thousands of times at this same hour, was the most tragic
-alarm-cry in the history of man, reverberating at the same moment of
-time over all the terrestrial globe. Little noise, almost no words, and
-all these men, raising their hats to pronounce a word suddenly become
-sacred, had made the sacrifice of their lives. Imagination loses itself
-in picturing the multitude of points upon this earth on which a like
-gift of self had just been made. For if the man who goes hopes to be
-spared, he who learns that he is called to go, for the moment gives
-himself, body and soul.
-
-Almost instantaneously the church-bells had broken out with the tocsin,
-as if the town had been on fire. Every church; then, on the hills,
-throughout the countryside, the same signal of distress spread like an
-epidemic. It had been too recent to be utterly terrifying; many heard it
-and did not think. No one realized the tragedy to which these humble
-little bells were sorrowfully calling the world. It is the salvation of
-men that they always limit their thoughts to the most immediate duty.
-The thought of a pair of shoes, of the place where one's _livret_ is
-hidden, of saying good-by to this one or that one, checks the vertigo
-which the enormity of the event might well produce.
-
-At first Odette had felt oppressed and wept like a nervous child who
-hears a sudden alarm. She had been unable, for her tears, to see the
-letter-box into which she dropped that letter to Jean which no longer
-signified anything and would doubtless never reach him to whom it was
-addressed. And all around her, at the doors, in the streets, on the
-beach, at the hotel, women had been weeping.
-
-Odette had gone up to her room. She had said to her maid:
-
-"What about you, Amelia?"
-
-"Me? Mine must join on the second day. I thought of asking Madame if I
-might take this evening's train; to-morrow there will be no room for
-civilians. That way I might kiss him good-by----"
-
-"Go, Amelia."
-
-She had seated herself at the window that looked out upon the
-flower-garden, the deserted tennis-courts, the sea. She was alone. There
-was nothing for her to do but think and wait.
-
-Everything around her had seemed stunned, congealed. It was as if there
-was no longer any one anywhere. The smoke of three great transatlantics
-in the Havre roadstead--sole perceptible movement--was rising straight
-up in the motionless air. A few fair-weather clouds on the horizon were
-turning a fleecy rose color. One or two fishing-smacks, all sails
-spread, were idling as on a lake. In ordinary times one would have said:
-"What a glorious sunset we shall have!" And Odette thought: "The men in
-those boats, at this moment, _do not know_!"
-
-An involuntary change had instantaneously taken place in her mind. She
-had transported herself to a time like that which still reigned in the
-boats, a time when "_They did not know_!" A time when there was nothing
-unusual in the world, when life, smiling, had sung to her, when the hope
-of a yet lovelier life had lulled thought to sleep. That time--already
-so far distant--was only an hour ago. And everything had been
-changed--changed as nothing had ever been changed before. Were they
-living on the same planet as in that former time? Who could have
-dreamed, at that time, of what was taking place now? She tried to
-foresee the morrow, but she could imagine nothing--nothing. Only La
-Villaumer's saying came back to her: "We are not in condition.... As
-well the deluge!"
-
-And for all that, deep down, very deep within herself, she had not at
-all believed in the horror that had come.
-
-She had remained sitting there, at her window, until the hour for
-dinner, living over her past life with Jean--thrilling with his first
-caresses. She had never loved any one but Jean before her marriage;
-since her marriage, only him. It was no longer the war which seemed to
-her unimaginable, but the power of her love for Jean. And instead of
-imagining chaos, her natural inclination had impelled her to summon up
-the loveliest pictures of the past. She had smiled, her body had
-relaxed, her fingers had quivered as if in anticipation of a caress, and
-in the empty air her lips had made the motion of a kiss.
-
-A man's voice on the balcony next her own had said:
-
-"It is absurd to think of nature as taking note of our affairs; but just
-for curiosity look at that sky: I have never seen anything like it."
-
-The words had been spoken to some one in the next room, who drew near to
-the window, and she had heard a woman's voice exclaiming, with a moan or
-in desperate appeal, such as one seldom hears.
-
-Odette had risen, and she too had looked out. She had never been
-superstitious, and was especially not inclined to doleful
-prognostications. She had always been happy; her life had flowed along,
-so to speak, like one continued festival. Being alone in her room, she
-did not speak; but all her flesh quivered.
-
-It may well be that similar phenomena occur sometimes without attracting
-our attention; yet, on that day, to three persons occupying neighboring
-rooms in a hotel, to others also, who had spoken of it at dinner or in
-the evening, that sunset appeared utterly unusual, and such as might
-justify all gossiping conjectures as to the relations of the earth with
-the marvellous changes, stupendous in their nature, which take place in
-the vault of heaven. Above the quiet sea the whole horizon was a fiery
-furnace, blazing with intense fervency, across which were spread, like
-fragments of slashed flesh, long clouds of a livid bluish red. Before
-long the intense fire died down, as if all the combustible matter had
-been devoured by the fury of the flames. Then the disk of the sun
-appeared in outline, like a gigantic blood-blister, like a crystal bowl
-so overful that the viscous liquid was escaping by some fissure and
-spreading to right and left into a marsh, a lake, an ocean of human
-serum, flowing in every direction toward rivers with contracted banks,
-which upheaved against it a formidable tide. Suddenly the sinister
-blister burst of itself and was absorbed in the mass of burning matter,
-or of thick waters, heavy and foul, and became thin streams like those
-that trickle from a slaughter-house.
-
-No, truly, it was no vertigo of the imagination, no hallucination of the
-vision, no compliant romance; it was a real picture, symbolic of aspect,
-preceding, like an inadequate vignette, the flaming pages of the great
-book of history that had just been opened.
-
-In Odette's soul it had been like a curtain that falls before a new act;
-once the curtain is raised, one's expectation is fixed; no more light
-comedy, no more pleasant extravaganzas, no more ballet! The tragedy is
-about to begin.
-
-With a bound her fevered memory overleaped several months of war. They
-had entered an atmosphere of fire; it was hard, but they endured it.
-Alsace: a breath of wild hope, penultimate moment of Old France;
-Belgium: enthusiasm first, horror afterward; alliances:
-prognostications, so-called assured, as to the "final result"; invasion:
-a march to the scaffold in which the condemned cling to a hope of the
-improbable; the Marne: the improbable realized, for which no one had
-dared to hope; the enemy grappled with and hurled back; the fall of
-Antwerp, of which so many folk, who will appear again in the end, insist
-that "it has not the least importance."
-
-Odette had received letters from Jean. How could Jean be in such a fiery
-furnace? And how had she been able to endure the thought? But many
-things once believed impossible were beginning to be recognized as
-possible. Jean was enduring his fatigues, and everything in him was
-taking on a new character. She had found him not such as he had been on
-his return from the manœuvres, but a man exalted above himself, who
-seemed to have transcended his own height, however he might try to
-appear simply his usual charming self. She could divine his sufferings,
-and yet she felt him to be happy. Odette had even come to think: "How
-little he needs me!" She had returned to Paris that she might receive
-his letters more promptly. But he appeared no longer to have any notion
-of time. That was because he was no longer master of his time. Odette
-was always writing to him as to an isolated being, who could do with
-himself as he liked. Without intending it, he would reply to her letters
-as if he were one who had no individual existence, a man carried away by
-something greater than himself, something which alone counted. She had
-not yet been able to understand, and she had gently reproached Jean for
-neglecting her.
-
-And yet Odette's perpetual anxiety had been gradually growing less; she
-was already gaining confidence. Jean had passed through so many dangers!
-She had begun to believe in a possible immunity. How many men had been
-in the midst of wars through all a long life, and yet had died in bed,
-surrounded by their families!
-
-Then, suddenly, one fine morning in the second fortnight of September
-Odette, still in bed, had heard the door-bell at an hour when seldom any
-one came to the front door. Amelia, her own maid, who had answered the
-bell, had rushed, breathless, to her mistress:
-
-"Madame! it is Madame de Prans who insists upon seeing Madame!"
-
-From her bed Odette had called out: "Come in, Simone, come right in!"
-
-Simone de Prans had brought tidings of Jean. She had received them from
-dear Pierrot, her husband, who had been sent to Paris for twenty-four
-hours on a mission.
-
-Tidings of Jean? But, to begin with, they were satisfactory?
-How?--satisfactory? Well, she could say that they were not bad. But "not
-bad" is not good! No, but one must not exaggerate things. In short,
-half-admissions, denials, returns upon the question, openings left for
-hope, equivocal utterances, embarrassments of which Odette soon ceased
-to be the dupe. And she had had courage to say, suddenly:
-
-"My little Simone, you dare not acknowledge that the greatest of
-calamities has befallen me."
-
-It was at that moment of half-wakefulness during which all these
-previous events had passed before her memory, that Odette suddenly came
-broad awake. She uttered a great cry, and every one in the next room
-came running.
-
-But now, after all, Odette refused to believe the dreadful fact which
-she herself had divined! She declared that it could not be, it was "too
-unjust."
-
-Why should Jean be killed and not another? With fierce anger she
-revolted against her lot, crying out and struggling in her bed like a
-mad woman.
-
-"It is not true! it is not true! you all have a grudge against me! you
-are jealous of me because of Jean! ... Jean, my Jean, I shall yet
-embrace you, or there is no God!"--until suddenly, vociferating and
-shrieking, she again lost consciousness.
-
-
-
-
-II
-
-
-Her doctor was there, in a major's uniform. They had found him as by a
-miracle: he happened to be at home, at the telephone, the very moment
-when Amelia called him. As he could not remain he gave his instructions
-to Simone de Prans, to Germaine Le Gault, to Rose Misson, the last two,
-notified by Simone, having dressed in all haste and rushed to her. The
-door-bell was constantly ringing. The news of Odette's affliction was
-spreading through Paris. True, the war had already caused many
-bereavements, but among this intimate group, Lieutenant Jacquelin was
-the first to fall.
-
-Odette, recovering her senses, found herself in the position of an
-exceptional victim among her friends, both women and men.
-
-But the women, while encompassing her with compassion, had in their
-eyes, their voices, something other than bereavement usually inspires.
-When they tried to utter consoling words, all, without exception, spoke
-of "pride," of the "honor" which was reflected upon Odette. Odette
-accepted the words as a part of the phraseology of condolence; but she
-considered only one thing--Jean no longer existed. Her Jean, her lover,
-her happiness, her preoccupation, her days, her nights, her revery of
-yesterday, her hope for to-morrow; Jean, caresses, kisses, tenderness,
-sweetness, perfume, foolishness and wisdom, the beloved master and yet
-the child, to be cradled in her arms; Jean--a thousand times more than
-her own life--was no longer numbered among men! She could see him again,
-from head to foot, in the minutest physical details, and in the same
-moment she was certain that he was no longer anything other than a
-phantom; that never again her arms of flesh would press to her his
-flesh, that her lips would never again kiss his lips. Tears did not come
-in the torrents that bring solace to the sharpest griefs. The period of
-yielding to a cruel fate, when one pities oneself, had not come to her.
-Rebellion still persisted. Odette raged, uttered bitter words. The
-honeyed soothings of her friends only exasperated her. Other friends
-were continually coming up to see her. She fell into hysterics. The
-doctor had gone. The most determined of those present, "good" Rose
-Misson and Mme. de Blauve, a woman who inspired respect, took upon
-themselves to turn all the others out of the room and to close the front
-door against every one.
-
-Rose Misson was a little woman, plump and mild, whose husband, some
-fifteen years older than herself, and free of all military obligation,
-had entered the service as chauffeur at the beginning of the war. Misson
-was somewhat criticised for this step. Therefore Rose, who felt the
-power of public opinion, was full of admiration of the lot of her friend
-Odette. Private griefs are nothing in comparison with the special
-consciousness which public opinion arouses in us. Notwithstanding her
-real love for him, at the present moment Rose would have preferred her
-husband dead rather than ill appreciated. Rose's sentiment with regard
-to her friend might have been thus expressed:
-
-"Yes, my dear, your grief is immense; your existence as a wife is
-shattered. But everybody feels that your lot is beautiful. You will grow
-greater among us all, will eclipse us, each and every one. From this day
-you have gained universal veneration; your name is pronounced with
-reverence; you are changed in our eyes; your presence brings even to us
-a meaning which we never knew before; the memory of your husband, his
-glorious name, is something august which is penetrating a circle in
-which such a quality has never been known."
-
-Rose said nothing of all this to her friend, because the language of
-their circle did not lend itself to such thoughts; perhaps also, even
-while thinking them, she had no wish to utter them.
-
-For the first time since the outbreak of war Odette did not ask for the
-evening paper. To read the news--the _communiqué_? How indifferent she
-was to all that! There was nothing more for her to learn. Her husband
-was dead; for her the war was ended. The war had been him, anxiety for
-his special fate. Him disappeared, what did the rest matter?
-
-And the sense of nothingness which had seized her by the throat that
-morning touched her again, more glacial than before. Nothing! No longer
-anything! Yes, the war was an unheard-of misfortune; but the war had
-captivated one like a drama of unequalled interest. The drama might go
-on henceforth; she would not go to witness it. She had gone to it only
-for one actor, who, having played his part, had disappeared. She too
-would disappear.
-
-Odette slept and spoke as in a dream. She fell into delirium; insisted
-on going with her husband, saying: "_If I had known_, I would not have
-let you go one step." He seemed to reply to her, alluding to a grave
-wound which the commandant had received. She would repeat: "The
-commandant's leg? ... Oh, let them touch you once, you! I am here.... I
-am here to care for you, my love...." And she awoke with a start.
-
-"He is dead, Rose! Ah, Rose, how fortunate you are!"
-
-"But my husband is fifty years old, Odette!"
-
-"Oh, if my husband had only been sixty!"
-
-Simone de Prans and Mme. de Blauve came again in the afternoon.
-
-"Your husband, Odette, fell like a hero; there is no more beautiful
-death."
-
-"There is no beautiful death."
-
-"Yes, there is!"
-
-"It is easy for you to talk."
-
-"No, Odette, you don't consider that everything is changed."
-
-"One's heart, too?"
-
-"Yes, one's heart, too. Many among us pass for hard-hearted and inhuman,
-but everything now appears from another point of view."
-
-"Love is always love."
-
-Odette, whose sense of hearing was extremely acute, overheard a
-low-voiced conversation in which Simone was saying how well her dear
-Pierrot was looking, and she swooned again.
-
-The rest of the day was only one lamentation, an inarticulate and
-continuous moaning.
-
-The following days were no better. The physician dreaded meningitis.
-
-Human beings are often weak in the face of great catastrophes when they
-are governed only by their natural sentiments. Yet Rose, who was in all
-things natural, remained completely devoted to Odette.
-
-"It is easier," said Mme. de Blauve, "to nurse a gravely wounded man
-than a woman distracted with grief, for whom there is nothing to do, to
-whom there is nothing to say."
-
-The first two days of Odette's grief were as nothing in comparison with
-those that followed. She uttered no sound except to moan; she fell into
-delirious slumbers, had hours of furious insomnia, nightmares,
-hallucinations, attacks of hysterics. At last came the period of
-confidences, with torrents of tears.
-
-Among Odette's friends, some had not been pleased because they had not
-been admitted to her room the first day; others were forgetting
-everything in their dominant desire to obtain a place as nurse in a
-hospital. Some of these, having succeeded in compassing their wishes,
-came at last, and were not denied entrance to the sick-room, by reason
-of the costume that they wore. At first it seemed as if they might harm
-Odette by the lamentable scenes which they described. These nurses
-delighted in employing new, technical words, which they had taken pains
-to learn by heart, like so many schoolgirls. But Odette would murmur:
-"All your unhappy ones, with their surgical operations--they are alive,
-after all." And she would think to herself: "Mine is dead." What answer
-could be made to that?
-
-Odette received heaps of letters, whose eloquence overwhelmed without
-touching her. She deemed all their expressions exaggerated, and yet she
-could not say that they rang false; they spoke of France, of glory and
-honor; hardly did they make allusion to her love, which to her was all.
-
-She was beginning to get up, to come and go about her apartment. It made
-things worse. Every place, every article, reminded her of Jean. He used
-to sit in that chair; he had loved to play with that little ornament.
-Before his photographs, in the drawing-room, she succumbed once more.
-Here he was in tennis-costume, so graceful, so lithe, so beautiful;
-there in house dress, that velvet jacket that she had so often encircled
-with her arms. She would walk through the rooms trying to breathe the
-faint odors of a perfume which he might have left there. She would sink
-down upon the divan where once there had been room for him.... And she
-started with a sudden thrill when the shadow of Amelia formed a
-halo-surrounded image against the fixed curtain of the glass door. In
-the old days, when he came in, a great shadow would spread thus behind
-the yellow silk, and suddenly his tall form would rise above the
-curtain, and his kind smile would appear through the glass.... Then she
-would listen for the sound of a key in the door. No one would ever again
-enter that door by means of a key....
-
-As she was opening, in a drawer, the box of his favorite cigars and
-would fain have lost herself in the odor which brought before her the
-image of her man, a telegram was brought to her. She tore it open
-mechanically, all news being indifferent to her. It was from Mlle. de
-Blauve, a girl of fourteen, and announced that her father, Commandant de
-Blauve, had died upon the field of honor. Her mother had been for the
-last few days a nurse at Rheims, her natal city, under bombardment. The
-three little De Blauve girls were alone at home with the governess, the
-two older brothers being in Jersey at school.
-
-For the first time since her bereavement Odette was obliged to think of
-others. She closed the box of cigars, and thought of that house in the
-Avenue d'Iena that she knew so well, of those charming little girls,
-henceforth orphaned, the eldest of whom was so calmly acquitting herself
-of the duties of courtesy.
-
-"I must go there," she said, and called her maid to dress her. Her
-mourning dress had been brought home the day before yesterday, but she
-had not so much as tried it on. Now for the first time she put on her
-clothes without a thought of her appearance. She took a carriage and
-went to the Avenue d'Iena.
-
-
-
-
-III
-
-
-She was expecting to find consternation in a family crushed by their
-fate, and during the drive she reflected with astonishment that it was
-not altogether painful to her to visit people in grief; in her inmost
-heart she would rather meet the little de Blauve girls mourning,
-unhappy, than her consolatory friends, overflowing with kind and
-beautiful words, but not personally sorrowing. "It is not the sight of
-happiness that consoles us in our sorrows," she said to herself, "but to
-come into touch with a grief that is like our own."
-
-The little de Blauves were not yet in black. The eldest wept a little
-when Odette kissed her with flowing tears--for Odette was thinking of
-her own grief--but the little girls were not at all prostrated, and
-there was even something radiant in their expression.
-
-"What is it all about, dear children?" asked Odette.
-
-Then they clapped their hands and said that their brother had just
-landed from his island and was up-stairs washing himself, and that he
-had received his mother's permission to enlist.
-
-"To enlist!" exclaimed Odette. "Why, how old is he, the poor little
-fellow?"
-
-"He is almost seventeen," said the eldest girl. "Papa is dead, he must
-replace him."
-
-"And what does the big brother say to that?"
-
-"Oh, he is delighted. He had begged to enlist as soon as mobilization
-was declared, but papa would not consent; he said: 'You will go with
-your class, when the time comes; it will not be long.'"
-
-The big brother appeared, coming down-stairs. He was a fine boy,
-delicate, surprisingly like his mother's portrait, painted in her youth,
-which hung above the great sofa. He rushed past like a bomb, exclaiming:
-"I must hurry to the recruiting-office!" No more was said about the dead
-father, and yet Odette knew that he was adored by all his family. Only
-to the governess, a confidential person well on in years, did Odette say
-a word about the event.
-
-"It is a great honor," said the governess.
-
-"Do they know how he was killed?"
-
-"A bomb, which at the same time killed seventeen men who were near him."
-
-It was fearlessly said in the presence of the children. Not one of the
-little ones showed the least emotion, while Odette shuddered through her
-whole body. She asked after the mother.
-
-"Mama writes that the mortars send a regular hail; she is almost
-deafened with them. The noise disturbs her in her work. They jump, at
-times, as over a skipping-rope, she writes.... She has also some Boches
-to wait upon her; did you know?"
-
-And that was all. Odette looked at the dead man's portrait, opposite
-that of the Red Cross nurse, who was jumping, at this moment, at the
-sound of the marmites, and had just sent her young son to the
-firing-line, casting at least one more de Blauve into the furnace that
-had consumed his father. Monsieur de Blauve had not been painted in
-uniform; he showed only the good face of a clever and kindly man. It
-must have been in all tranquillity, without uttering a single grand
-word, that he had prepared his whole family for the eventualities of
-war; and his children, to the last one, were as ready to die as to go on
-a walk, or to church.
-
-
-
-IV
-
-
-Odette went away disconcerted. Not a word had been said about her Jean,
-who also had died heroically. But what had they said about the other
-hero, Commandant de Blauve, whose death had brought her there? Men
-disappear; they are replaced; a memory of them remains, which is
-henceforth called "honor," and which does not admit of emotion. That was
-precisely what certain of her friends had already said to her. They had
-seemed to know that in advance, but Odette--no. She thought, as she
-returned home, of that bloody sunset over the sea, upon which she had
-gazed at Surville on August I, and during which she had had the
-impression that she was entering a new world.
-
-She found three letters in the vestibule; one, belated, from a friend in
-the country, who had only just heard of the death of Lieutenant
-Jacquelin, and who "complimented" her, basing her consolation upon "the
-honor with which she saw her adorned." The others were from strangers
-charged to announce to her that the husband of a friend who lived in
-Versailles, and that of another in Bourg-la-Reine, had just been killed.
-
-Odette sank down upon the divan, her head feeling bruised as if she had
-bumped it against the wall; killed, killed--then there were dead men
-everywhere? And she felt a dark rancor toward all those fatal events
-that fell upon her so furiously to disturb her grief, her personal
-grief.
-
-She saw again those three men of whose loss she had been told that very
-day--in a single half-day--Commandant de Blauve, a magnificent man, a
-man without a blot, "a type of Plutarch" as he had been called, always
-with the added words, "characters such as his were no longer made"; then
-Jacques Graveur, him of Versailles, a good comrade of Jean's, one who
-never made an ado about anything, and passed for none too serious; it
-appeared that he had saved his whole company by coolness and the
-sacrifice of himself; Louis Silvain, he of Bourg-la-Reine, had brought
-his captain in upon his shoulders, across two hundred metres of open
-ground under a hail of grape-shot, had come within three metres of his
-trench, when a ball passed through his body--but the officer was saved.
-He had been, in ordinary life, a big fellow, with no other occupation
-than to haunt the theatres, play at the races, and drink cocktails at
-the bars.... Such different figures, suddenly united in a similar act,
-for which some of them had from all time been prepared, the others not
-at all--the strangeness, the incomprehensibility of it all!
-
-She must write letters of condolence--she, who had received so many!
-While she was writing to the others she was thinking especially of her
-Jean; she felt a certain fascination in writing of grief; she dwelt upon
-it too much at length; it would be apparent to the wives to whom she
-wrote that she was thinking only of herself.... But each of them would
-have done the same, and would forgive her.
-
-All through the day the memory of Jean shook off from her the haunting
-thought of the three other dead men. She consulted a map of the Touring
-Club of which she had sometimes made use with her husband in their
-automobile drives. The spot where Jean had fallen was not far from a
-highway over which they had often driven. "Perhaps I saw one day the
-very spot where his body is lying to-day...." Then followed endless
-despairing reveries. How had she not foreseen the possibility of the
-event--of the war, at least? Yet war had often been discussed in her
-presence, at the time of the alarms of Agadir, of Casablanca, even of
-Tangier, when she was a young girl. Then things were possible, things
-which perhaps might happen to-morrow, of which people were talking
-to-day, and to which her mind had been hermetically closed? War, war!
-She used to know old people who talked about it; yes, because they had
-seen it. And they were tiresome. Young people didn't believe in such
-things. She tried to excuse herself; then she pronounced herself guilty.
-Why had they usually avoided people who talked of serious things? And
-why had they considered as clever those who ridiculed everything?
-Suddenly she thought of "Monsieur's linen," "Monsieur's wardrobe," of
-all those belongings of _his_ which would never again be used, never....
-Should she go on leaving them all in their places? Should she do away
-with them? Or should she put them all away in a closet, a reliquary?
-
-She was at that point in her reflections when Amelia entered, in tears:
-
-"The son of the concierge, madame!"
-
-"Well, what?"
-
-"He too, madame!"
-
-Then the details; the unlucky fellow had been buried alive in an
-upheaval caused by a bomb, and had been dug out only too late. And
-Amelia began to talk of her husband, as if it had been he who was buried
-alive.
-
-When a few days passed without tidings of more deaths, all the women
-grew calm and began to hope. When a man whom they knew was killed, each
-one saw in him her husband, her father, her cousin, her son; all the men
-were wept for in advance in the person of the one who had fallen. If any
-one had said to these women: "But there are thousands falling every day,
-thousands!" they would have opened their eyes wide, only partly
-terrorized, for they had not yet become accustomed to the new condition
-of things. The one who should maintain that the war would not be over in
-a few weeks would be considered a bad patriot, or an ill-timed jester.
-
-The next morning a new catastrophe; Pierre de Prans, otherwise Pierrot,
-he who had brought the news of Jean's death, had been brought to
-Val-de-Grâce hospital in a very alarming condition. His orderly, a fine
-fellow, who was wounded at the same time, was as good as dead. Pierrot
-had a bullet in the breast, one lung laid bare, and a broken arm. His
-orderly had stanched his wounds under a violent bombardment, filling up
-the enormous cavity with bandages snatched from the dead who surrounded
-them, then both had remained for six hours, their heads in a
-vile-smelling hole under a paving-stone, their bodies hidden by bushes.
-In the course of the night, hearing the French language spoken, they had
-kicked with their feet and the stretcher-bearers had drawn them out,
-both still living.
-
-The narrative of these particulars produced a worse effect upon Odette
-than tidings of death; the more as some one had the lightness to say in
-her presence: "Much better to be shot dead at an unexpected moment than
-to endure such long and cruel agony."
-
-"That is a fine idea!" retorted Odette. "Much better to be alive than
-dead."
-
-Notwithstanding the sadness of these visits of friends when there was
-always some new death to weep for, deaths which had occurred under the
-most frightful circumstances, Odette felt that no other sorrow was equal
-to her sorrow; and she detested them all, not as losses hateful to
-endure, not as making part of a national calamity the like of which had
-never been before, but as unwelcome events intruding themselves between
-her and her own grief. She desired to be alone with her sorrow, and she
-resolved henceforth to know nothing of all the rest.
-
-One idea possessed her during several days: to see the place where Jean
-lay buried. Oh! if she could also see that where he received his
-death-blow! She appealed to three or four influential persons of her
-acquaintance, hung over the telephone. What she asked was to the last
-degree impossible. Word came to her from the Minister that it would be
-easier for her to go to Berlin, passing through Switzerland after
-procuring the necessary papers, than to reach her husband's tomb, near
-as it was. Then it seemed to her that the government, even more than
-death, had robbed her of her husband by means never practised before,
-the refined cruelty of which had been invented for her alone.
-
-
-
-
-V
-
-
-Her old friend, La Villaumer, had come to make her a brief visit of
-condolence. He was the only man of their former group of intimates left
-in Paris, because of his years. Now he came to see her again.
-
-"I do not come seeking to console you, my friend. If I am making a
-mistake, turn me to the door. In my mind there is no consolation for
-you; you are an unfortunate woman. You must not ask much of life, do you
-see? You have known happiness. To most people happiness is unknown. Let
-those to whom it is a stranger deceive themselves with words and
-attitudes; as for you, weep for all you have lost; weep; what you have
-lost is worth all tears."
-
-"Thank you, my friend; do not feel that you are obliged to make a
-heroine of me, you of all others! You know, of all others, that I am not
-a heroic soul, but simply a woman who loves."
-
-"You are the purest woman whom I have known, in the sense that you are
-the most natural. You were born in a terrestrial paradise, and until now
-you have lived in one. You have not been put outside the gate for some
-misdeed by the angel with the fiery sword; a hurricane has arisen and
-devastated the garden."
-
-"But I am none the less outside of the gate!"
-
-"I recognize that. There would be no use in seeking to deny it, and it
-is all in vain to say to you that if others are less vividly aware of
-being outside the gate it is because they never lived in the garden,
-like you."
-
-"But they tell me that everything is changed."
-
-"They are right, and you see it clearly because you are outside of Eden,
-which you had never left before. It is only that some of them accept the
-change quickly because they were prepared for it, and others because
-they are less sensitive than you."
-
-"Then, if such a change exists, does that mean that I should cease to
-mourn my husband?"
-
-"No; but the day will come when you will mourn him more. Remember what I
-say: you will mourn him more. That is the way in which you will take
-your part in the change."
-
-"More!" ejaculated Odette. "Is it possible? I do not understand you."
-
-"I mean by 'more' another manner of mourning, which you will doubtless
-find more endurable. Let us not talk more about it now, but keep in mind
-what I have said."
-
-She shrank more and more from society, till she could endure neither
-news nor the face of a friend. She caused herself to be denied at the
-door--forbade her maid to speak to her of the war, even to bring in the
-newspapers. She wished to hear nothing.
-
-Then Paris became odious to her because she could not keep herself
-sufficiently in retirement. Since she was not permitted to go and
-stretch herself upon Jean's tomb, like a faithful dog, she decided to
-seek a refuge where she could think only of Jean, weep for him in
-solitude, live only in his memory, stun herself with her own grief, give
-herself body and soul to this grief from which no earthly power had the
-right to tear her.
-
-She thought of returning to Surville, where Jean had bidden her good-by,
-where she had spent those last weeks with him, those beloved days of the
-end of the world. To find herself there in present circumstances would
-be atrocious pain; so much the better! There was only one sort of
-torture that she feared; that which should forbid her to live in
-intimate union with the memory of Jean. To suffer, to suffer even to
-martyrdom, to the martyrdom which Jean's death was causing her, this was
-the greatest good for which she could ask.
-
-Odette set out for Surville.
-
-
-
-
-VI
-
-
-It was the end of October. The war, still violent and deadly along all
-that line of conflict which was called the battle of the Aisne, was
-becoming more terrible in the north, and was being carried over into
-Belgium, as at the beginning. Universal anguish, for a time checked by
-the victory of the Marne, was as acute as in the first days. Surville,
-on the seashore, could not but be deserted and sad at this season. The
-Hôtel de Normandie closed, the public houses that were open far from
-comfortable, the best way to be alone and not hear war talk from morning
-till night was to rent a small villa. A pavilion was recommended; it was
-separated from the street by a row of poplars with yellowing foliage and
-a narrow grass-plot where two pergolas were in summer covered with
-climbing roses. At this season the dull melancholy of this abode was
-accentuated by the silence of the dead town. Odette found that it suited
-her. No sooner had she arrived than she had made a pilgrimage under the
-closed windows and drawn-down blinds of the room that she had occupied
-with Jean. The wind was blowing from the country, driving the heavy
-clouds out to sea; the old Casino, once so gay, was boarded up; at the
-door there still hung a poster announcing the races. Odette followed the
-alley, passed over the dunes between the deserted tennis-courts, and
-went down to the beach, where she could indulge in the bitterness of
-unmingled grief.
-
-This was where she had planted her tent and lived with Jean through a
-fortnight of sunny days, in utter abandonment to a delight that arose
-from the earth or fell down from the magnificent sky. Children had been
-playing about; excited little dogs had been barking to coax them to
-throw a pebble into the sea. They had ceased their indolent repose only
-to plunge into the sea, swimming side by side with delight.
-
-To-day the beach was abandoned, and seemed to stretch away, gray and
-monotonous, to the end of the world. Odette seated herself under the
-shelter of the dune and uttered the beloved name of Jean. The raging
-wind carried it, like a flake of foam, toward that distant Havre where a
-number of transports were lying in the roadstead. The coachman who
-brought her from the train had pointed them out to her: they had brought
-over British troops; an average of fifty to fifty-five vessels was
-arriving every day. The war! Here, too, here again, when she had hardly
-left the train, she had been reminded of it.
-
-Nevertheless, the hours passed and no one spoke of it, to her at least.
-The monotonous sound of the sea soothed her, and the sea,
-notwithstanding the troop-ships over there, seemed like something grand,
-entirely foreign to all the human butchery. Odette rested her eyes on
-the limitless plain, ever restless and sad. But this sadness was allied
-to her own, and at the same time something immense, majestic, and
-superhuman seemed to enter the depths of her still rudimentary
-consciousness of the dawn of a new time. She would have remained there
-for hours if the approach of evening had not rendered intolerable the
-sense of despair suggested by the scene, and if the rain had not begun
-to fall in torrents.
-
-Odette took one of the paths leading back to the town.
-
-Hardly had she reached it when she was surprised to see through the
-driving wind and rain that buffeted her, many illuminated buildings
-where she had expected only the shadows of a sleeping city. That was the
-Casino, which she had lately seen shut up by boards! And that was the
-Grand Hotel, all twinkling with light! She had to round the corner of
-the latter to reach her cottage, and by degrees as she approached it she
-saw a swarm of human beings, became aware of a commotion in the vast
-building which had seemed so funereal. Men with bandaged heads, with
-arms in slings, men walking on crutches; and the white head-dresses and
-red crosses of nurses; it was a hospital. The wind brought its odors to
-her--the smell of tincture of iodine, of cooking and an indescribable
-unsavoriness.
-
-She drew near, passed beneath the windows. The sight was not so
-heart-breaking as she would have expected. The nurses, some of them
-young, wore a smile; if certain wounded men were stretched out, inert,
-others, seated on their beds, were quietly chatting, calling across to
-one another; a great burst of boyish laughter took her by surprise,
-while at the same moment she saw, close-pressed to the window-pane,
-directly under the electric light, the pitiful, waxen face of a sort of
-Lazarus rising from the tomb. She became aware that the other building,
-opposite, was equally crowded; she saw at the door an orderly in
-uniform, and the inscription on white linen: "Supplementary Hospital."
-She had thought to flee from the war; everything was bringing it to her.
-The pavilion that she had selected, with its green lawns, its poplars,
-its pergolas, was situated not far from these hospitals. All day long
-she would see only men who had been in the war!
-
-Somewhat disheartened, she returned home. It was not what she had
-expected to find here. Two telegrams were awaiting her; she opened them
-listlessly--no news could be of serious moment to her. Both of them
-announced the death of young men whom she knew intimately, old friends
-of her husband; the first, an aviator crushed under his machine; the
-second, killed on the banks of the Yser.
-
-The next morning several letters brought to her details of this twofold
-loss. The first of these young men, whom she remembered to have had at
-her house not three months before, had joined in aerial conflict with an
-enemy machine, at an altitude of two thousand metres; despairing of
-overcoming it by shots of grape, he had dashed upon it, crushing his own
-screw, but had also seen his adversary wrecked as they fell to earth
-together. It was one of the first exploits of the kind; its effect upon
-the imagination was great. The other victim of the day, an officer by
-profession, after having his shoulder crushed and his useless arm bound
-to his body by withes, had continued for an hour to command his company,
-until a bomb had scattered him in fragments.
-
-Odette shuddered. The heroism touched her, as it touched every one; but
-these fine deeds, these multiplied deaths, overshadowed the case of her
-husband, blotted it out; the death of Lieutenant Jacquelin was fading
-from the general memory; other deaths were making more of a stir than
-his; as the war became more and more furious it seemed to relegate its
-earlier stages to a long-past time, somewhat inferior to the later
-tragedy. Lieutenant Jacquelin had been killed in the first days of the
-war, of a war still fought in old-fashioned way. The miseries of the
-trenches under the autumn rains was another sort of war, one which alone
-seemed to be true war. The headlong rush of the enemy on the Yser, of
-which people were better informed than of the earlier invasion at the
-Marne, arrested and absorbed the public mind. Odette felt this, and
-though she was determined that no thought of glory should mingle with
-her grief, the idea of glory and of the gigantic struggle that was going
-on did penetrate her mind in spite of herself, by reason of the
-diminution which the prestige of her own hero was suffering. She had
-never dreamed of finding a cause of pride in what he had done; one
-single thought had absorbed her: that her Jean, her love, was dead. In
-her wounded pride she was hurried into saying to herself: "He died
-nobly, he had a beautiful death, he too!" Yet the universal chorus
-seemed to reply: "Since him, others have done better."
-
-She wrote to her newly widowed friends in words of exaggerated praise,
-affecting not to speak at all of her personal sorrow. It was a
-gratuitous effusion of temper, for the widows did not find her praises
-at all extravagant, and never observed Odette's reserve as to her own
-case.
-
-She decided not to leave the house, that she might see nothing, hear
-nothing, learn nothing. For a while she even thought of notifying the
-post-office not to forward her correspondence; but she was always hoping
-that the Minister would send her a permit to visit Jean's grave.
-Jealously she shut herself up with the memory of her husband.
-
-Everything irritated her; everything was odious to her; everything
-seemed to conspire to raise between her and the beloved memory a barrier
-of bleeding corpses, a screen upon which were portrayed horrors invented
-by a satanic imagination, together with sentences of exalted morality
-unknown to her and whose new radiance blinded her.
-
-Stamping her foot, tearing the handkerchief with which she was stanching
-her tears, she declared to herself that she would henceforth live only
-for Jean and by him. She kissed the photographs that she had brought
-with her. She stretched herself upon a lounge, engulfing herself in the
-torturing memory of him. For one day, several days, a week, perhaps
-longer, she would be able to live upon only the thought of him. She
-would open neither letters nor despatches that might come; if she was
-late with her condolences, her congratulations, what did it matter?
-
-The idea of military glory entered her mind and suggested to her the
-hope of erecting a monument to her husband. She was caressing the
-thought when her maid entered her room like a gust of wind.
-
-"Madame, the wounded! the wounded! Swarms of them! In automobiles, on
-trucks; it appears that there are twice as many for Sousville, and the
-train has carried as many more to Houlgate and Cabourg!"
-
-Amelia threw open the windows. The train of wounded men was passing the
-house. Odette dared not forbid herself to look at it.
-
-Autos were rumbling by, some of them covered, others displaying to the
-light of day a heap of men, motionless, bandaged, covered with clay, an
-agglutinated mass of flesh in which all individuality if not all life
-seemed to be held in suspense, a cart-load of humanity: not a single man
-but a mass of bloody pulp in which the suffering that it covered must be
-a common suffering. Then came a truck, two trucks, three. They were
-great drays across which were placed stretchers, and on these stretchers
-were extended what they call the bedded wounded, those whose legs are
-broken, or already amputated, or dreadfully crushed, those
-fever-stricken from projectiles received in the body, those with cloven
-skulls, hastily bound together. They were marine gunners, foot-soldiers,
-blacks; tall, handsome, Moroccans with brown skins. Distinguished from
-all the others by excess of ill fortune, they were stretched out,
-straight and rigid like corpses placed in order, at equal distances,
-upon the marble slabs of a morgue. The trucks going at a walk and
-carrying the most seriously wounded, at each check, each halt, each
-starting again, one could hear hollow moans; sometimes the outcry of a
-Moroccan, sharp like the voice of a child or a woman, would make you
-catch your breath, and the country folk, crowded along the sidewalks,
-would whimper as if they themselves were being tortured.
-
-Amelia, who in the beginning had been chattering without ceasing, was
-now suffocated with sobs, and her elbows upon the window-ledge was
-weeping silently over this procession. Odette, hidden at another window,
-wept like her servant, incapable either of tearing herself away from the
-sight or of controlling her emotion.
-
-At length, having closed the windows, the two women found themselves
-face to face with wet eyes. Amelia said:
-
-"It is better to be dead than alive."
-
-Never had they experienced such emotions in Paris, where they thought
-themselves nearer the war because of the number of kilometres between
-them and the front, or because they heard men deemed well informed
-telling contradictory news from morning to night. Here in this remote
-and quiet corner they had now touched the very relics of the hecatomb.
-The eyes alone tell the truth; words are a small matter.
-
-Amelia could not remain still; she ran to the hospital after the
-procession. Never in her life had she seen anything so exciting.
-
-On her return she said that she could hardly recognize the entrance of
-the Grand Hotel, whither she had gone a few months before to carry notes
-from Monsieur or Madame to M. X or M. Y who were dead now, like
-Monsieur.
-
-She brought back much information. The wounded who came that morning
-were from the Department of the North, where a frightful battle had been
-raging for weeks. "Some of them talk, madame; some of them say nothing;
-their eyes break your heart, like poor, sick dogs that glance at you as
-if ashamed and pretend to be asleep." "I could see from where I was,"
-she went on after a little, "the surgeon as he appeared to be, all in
-white, with a cap like a cook and bare arms; he received them at the
-door and sorted them out, sending them up-stairs, down-stairs, to the
-right, the left, pestered by the nurses, who begged for them."
-
-But Odette had not seen them entering the hospital, and this did not
-interest her. She was pursuing her own thoughts.
-
-"There was one in the procession," she said, "one that was lying down,
-who was so pale, poor boy! He will not go far."
-
-She had vowed to herself that she would not go out; she would remain
-with her grief the whole day, the whole week. But immediately after
-luncheon she put on her hat and went to wander around the hospital.
-
-A hedge separated the street from the great court in which there was
-still a circular clump of trees surrounded with withered summer flowers;
-opposite, above another hedge, the vines in a charming flower-garden
-were reddening on the pergolas. Everything bore the impress of a time of
-display and enjoyment, and she felt that decorations like these were
-henceforth antiquated, absurd.
-
-Odette knew already, through Amelia, the disposition of each part of the
-hospital, whose interior hum she could hear from without. She knew that
-one flight up, at the first turn, were the typhoids, nursed by a Sister
-who for twelve years past, wherever she might be sent, had done nothing
-else than care for typhoids, and go to the nearest church to put up a
-little prayer. She knew the situation of the staircase leading to the
-basements, where the food was brought in and the dead carried out. She
-knew that at a corner of the building looking upon the sea was the
-operating-theatre, visible from without. And in fact, passing by it, she
-perceived a group of white-robed men and women, their sleeves turned
-back, leaning over something or some one. Then she fled toward the sea
-like a coward and was ashamed. In reality, this assemblage of suffering
-creatures at once repelled and attracted her, producing a complex
-sentiment, unfamiliar and incongruous.
-
-From afar she looked at the building and its surroundings. At the sight
-of this countryside, these villas, these hotels, the memory of the past
-summer overpowered her, and at the same time she experienced a cruel
-dispelling of her memories of the past summer. Meanwhile she stood there
-as if hypnotized by the great house of suffering. On the ground floor,
-through the glazed verandas she discerned a constant coming and going of
-white caps. And she thought of the labors which those hundred and fifty
-new arrivals of the morning must necessitate. She was seized with
-timidity at the thought of approaching this august place. Before it she
-seemed to herself a profane person, idle, gloved, parasol in hand, her
-one interest her personal grief.
-
-An unknown power held her motionless, kept her from going toward the
-sea, where she had hoped to meet her cruel and too-much loved memories,
-and yet forbidding her to return to that place of common suffering which
-she had not made her own. While she stood there, hesitating on the
-levelled dune, she was shot through with an unaccustomed shiver, which
-frightened her.
-
-As a pretext for again drawing near the place she told herself that she
-desired to see once more the poor boy whom she had seen lying so pale on
-his stretcher. Had they revived him? Sincerely, she would have loved to
-know. But how set about it? No sooner had she returned to the road that
-surrounded the glazed verandas than she lost courage to present herself
-as a curious stranger; men in bed, others sitting up, would stare at the
-newcomer, young and perhaps pretty under her crape veil.
-
-She returned to her house much more agitated than if she had met any
-one, and let Amelia talk to her of all that she had learned concerning
-not only that hospital, but all the hospitals of the region. She
-remembered of all she heard only the name of a lady whom she had met in
-August at the Hôtel de Normandie, and who, it appeared, was nursing the
-wounded in the neighboring hospital, Madame de Calouas.
-
-She shut herself up again, distrustful of the strange attraction that
-the city of suffering exercised over her. She talked to Jean's
-photograph, saying to it: "I will be only yours, think of nothing but of
-you." She read over again the books that they had read together; or
-rather, she pleased herself by telling herself that she had read these
-books with Jean. Or she walked in her little garden, making forty turns
-over the tour of the hedge-bordered alley, strewn with golden flakes
-which the poplars shed like rain. Sometimes she would pause before the
-latticed gate upon the road, amusing herself with counting the minutes
-that one might stand there without seeing a single passer-by. One day
-she thought she recognized Mme. de Calouas hastening past on a bicycle,
-light and fleet as a dragon-fly. And she felt a desire to see her again,
-not on her own account, for she had left upon her only a vague
-impression, but to talk to her or hear her talk of Jean.
-
-Vainly she watched for her. She even permitted herself to walk out, in
-the hope of meeting Mme. de Calouas.
-
-"But, madame," said Amelia, "it is very easy. Every one knows when these
-ladies come back and forth to the hospital. Madame has only to walk up
-and down before the great court."
-
-It was not till the following Sunday, at eleven o'clock mass, that
-Odette met Mme. de Calouas and spoke to her.
-
-"What!" exclaimed Mme. de Calouas, "you here! What hospital do you
-belong to?"
-
-Odette thought that the nurse had made a mistake, intending to say:
-"Where are you staying?"
-
-"I am at the Elizabeth pavilion."
-
-"Is that the new auxiliary post opened for contagious diseases?"
-
-"It is just a little villa," said Odette simply. "It is large enough for
-me alone."
-
-"And what are you doing there, good God?"
-
-"I came here," said Odette, "that I might mourn for my husband in
-peace."
-
-Mme. de Calouas assumed a suitable expression, but made no reply. Odette
-continued:
-
-"He was killed in the end of September, at the head of his company,
-going out from the village----"
-
-"Yes, I heard," said Mme. de Calouas. "I ought to have sent you a card;
-but in times like these----"
-
-"You yourself are in mourning," observed Odette.
-
-"Oh--I! I have lost my husband, my two brothers, my uncle the colonel,
-several cousins--" She waved her hand with a gesture which signified:
-"They are past counting!" Before leaving Odette she added:
-
-"Come to see me at the hospital, from eight o'clock to noon, and from
-two to four. From four to six I have another service at the Red Cross,
-close by. I will show you things. Come."
-
-For a long time Odette hesitated. Again she shut herself up with her
-adored memories. She was irritated that Mme. de Calouas had not said a
-word about that exquisite man who was her Jean, and whom she had met at
-the hotel. When she went out it was precisely at an hour when she knew
-Mme. de Calouas to be at her hospitals. When the sea-wind was too strong
-she would walk in the dull streets of the deserted summer city, a
-pleasure resort in which the word "pleasure" had become strange and
-unfitting. The streets crossed at right angles; nearly all of them were
-bordered by hedges beyond which one could see a garden, the wire cage of
-a tennis-court, a Norman villa, and no one. Often, the whole length of
-her walk she met only one human being, a big man, almost impotent, whose
-duty it was to sweep up the dead leaves--an absurd duty since the wind
-scattered them as fast as he swept, and the trees shed down behind him
-another layer of little golden, rolling, dead things.
-
-Sometimes, walking daringly, Odette crossed the long terrace, and
-braving the wind went as far as to the sea.
-
-At certain hours the beach was covered with men under treatment. You
-recognized them by the slings that supported their arms, by their
-crutches, their bandaged heads, not often by their uniforms, of which
-they preserved only odd parts. They wore old jackets, knitted
-waistcoats, trousers brought forth from old Norman wardrobes. Some of
-the men limped, others wearily dragged their feet along the sand; those
-who had legs wrestled with one another, ran races, played like children.
-They delighted in the edge of the sea, gathering shells, and regaling
-themselves with the slimy flesh of cockles. Some of them cast a too
-expressive glance upon the young woman, with an awkward word which at
-another time would have made her smile. It was an amazing group of
-tatterdemalions; within the memory of man no eye had ever looked upon
-such a sight. It excited compassion; and yet almost every man in
-particular had gained, without trying, the manly merit of always seeming
-to be in good humor.
-
-Whenever she saw them Odette felt moved, and at the same time somewhat
-jealous. _He_ had not been washed, bandaged, ministered to, nor even
-clothed in rags; _he_ had not been able to drag his mangled limbs along
-the seashore; _he_ had been killed outright. She would say to herself:
-"Perhaps one of these soldiers knew him, perhaps he saw him fall; he
-could tell me the details, could describe his last days, his last hour,
-his last minute." And she grew faint at the possibility of asking them,
-of learning.
-
-The low tide, the stormy sky, the wind, the grayish hillsides, the
-transports on the horizon, always this immense deserted beach, these
-wretched relics of the war, and she, disconsolate widow, imploring the
-wind to snatch her away and destroy her in its eddies! The constant
-reminders of the past, the sight of these same places, natural
-background of all the pleasant things of life! The thought of that water
-which had bathed the limbs of Jean, and of the August sun, and the
-restless multitude, gay and elegant, whom the many-colored sweaters set
-off like a profusion of tulips; the movement of automobiles, the music
-of the orchestra! Her heart ached at these contrasts even more than it
-had done in Paris. The solitude, the approaching winter, and the near
-contact with suffering aroused in her an unwelcome agitation. The
-restless air, dark with cawing crows, brought a bitter taste to her
-lips, and yet aroused in her an indescribable sense of splendor.
-
-
-
-
-VII
-
-
-Nothing less than the thought of meeting Mme. de Calouas at church on
-the following Sunday before she had paid her promised visit could have
-induced Odette to cross the threshold of the hospital.
-
-She went on Saturday, between two and four o'clock. An orderly wearing a
-corporal's bands detained her as if her hand-bag might conceal
-incendiary bombs, but was softened on hearing the name of Mme. de
-Calouas, and led her to room 74. Odette was kept a long time standing at
-the door of room 74; at last a doctor came out, carrying a case of
-instruments. He was followed by Mme. de Calouas, who said:
-
-"It is too bad, dear madame! I beg you to excuse me; one of my patients
-detained me. But now I am at your service; just let me change my blouse
-before taking you to see the wards."
-
-Her change of costume was soon made, and she took Odette to a
-neighboring room where a very young nurse and two military orderlies
-were with great difficulty holding down a patient in an attack of
-tetanus. The sick man's head with its contracted jaws and inflexible
-neck reminded her of certain "attractions" of the waxworks; the upheaved
-body, forming an arc from head to heels, was as rigid and unyielding as
-the arch of a bridge. Odette turned pale, and Mme. de Calouas said:
-
-"You lack training. See this child who is nursing him! She isn't twenty
-years old--a mere girl."
-
-They passed into another room, from which exhaled a pestilential odor.
-
-"Gangrene from the gas," said Mme. de Calouas. "It is not a perfume for
-the pocket-handkerchief, far from it! But one gets accustomed to
-anything. With assiduous care and absolute asepsis we have saved a
-certain number of wounded who suffer from this complication. We are so
-fortunate here as to have a surgeon who is not in haste to use the
-knife."
-
-In the long corridor nurses, for the most part young, were gliding or
-running. A priest, wearing his alb, was hastening to one of the rooms.
-Carried along by his speed, Mme. de Calouas entered after him, and
-Odette followed her.
-
-It was a comfortable hotel bedroom, hung with brightly colored paper;
-there were two women in white, and on a clean white bed lay a tall young
-man, uncovered, almost as white as the bed, from whose lips poured a
-stream of blood. He had received a fragment of shell in the sinus, had
-been operated upon that morning, and hemorrhage had set in--a stream
-white and red, unlike anything she had ever seen; it overwhelmed her
-with horror.
-
-"You should apply a tampon," said Mme. de Calouas.
-
-"The doctor is coming," replied one of the nurses.
-
-They were both leaning over the white body; one was injecting serum into
-the stomach, the other was applying a syringe with ipecac to the thigh.
-The priest was standing at the cadaverous feet, anointing them with the
-sacred oil. The doctor arrived and applied the proper tampons.
-
-To Mme. de Calouas this was one of the normal cases which one meets on
-visiting a military hospital. Odette was making every effort to stand
-upright. She begged to go out in the air. Mme. de Calouas smiled.
-
-"It is war! And we are only in one of the rear hospitals. There is no
-rain of shells here. Shall we visit the wards down-stairs, if you
-please?"
-
-The vast wards were almost vacant at this hour, for many of the patients
-were out-of-doors.
-
-"They recover rapidly, if you only knew! One can see the new flesh
-grow."
-
-"And they return to the firing-line?" asked Odette.
-
-"They must, indeed!"
-
-A group of four convalescents was playing a game of cards on a bed.
-Others, stretched at length, were reading; several were sleeping, some
-were receiving friends. A photographer in a corner was taking pictures.
-
-Beds and beds, and torn flesh, and perforated limbs, and members sawn
-off, and trepanned skulls! And the tetanus, the gangrene, the typhus,
-and that red torrent by which the soul of a man was taking flight, amid
-all that whiteness!
-
-Odette felt as if she should die, and left the hospital. During all her
-visit one question had been upon her lips: "Shall I find here any one
-who knew my husband?" What was it that kept her from uttering it? She
-could not have told how it was, but she had not so much as pronounced
-her husband's name. A weight had seemed to be crushing her during the
-whole time. She had felt overwhelmed by the new horror. The worst was
-that when at last she reached home she felt ashamed to weep for her own
-sorrow.
-
-The fact also that all that human flesh had been ravaged for the same
-cause; that of those unhappy ones who were groaning, not one thought of
-blaming the cause; and that other fact that one part of humanity,
-upright and able, was bending with help over the other, gasping part,
-forced her to gather up her disordered thoughts and in the midst of her
-confusion to exclaim:
-
-"Something is changed!"
-
-That evening, at six o'clock, instead of wandering about the streets in
-heavy sadness, she went, as Mme. de Calouas had begged her to do, to
-evening prayer at the Chapel of the Orphanage, in which the Red Cross
-was now installed. It was a convent chapel, reserved for nuns, the
-public being admitted only behind a sort of screen of carved wood,
-through which could be seen the orderly rows of Sisters and orphans, the
-altar and the lights. She found herself in the midst of valid soldiers;
-that is to say, such as by one means or another could move from place to
-place. There were bandaged heads, arms in slings, stiff or deformed
-legs, crutches. Odette was moved by the singing more than she could have
-believed. Suddenly sobs choked her, and she wept. The men turned toward
-this young woman in mourning whom they could hardly have helped
-noticing, and who kept on wiping her eyes. She was weeping from a
-natural need of weeping. She was weeping for Jean, but also she wept
-with great pity for all those lacerated bodies; and for the first time
-she realized that these men, or these fragments of men, had come from
-places where death and pain were of all things the most usual.
-
-Mme. de Calouas heard and saw her, and knew that Odette had come here to
-weep for her husband. As they went out she said to her:
-
-"You loved him much, then?"
-
-And by these words Odette realized that she had been weeping for an
-immeasurable loss, which had left her in a sense benumbed.
-
-
-
-
-VIII
-
-
-This did not last long, and as soon as she reached home she made
-honorable amends to Jean. She drove from her every thought except of
-him, denouncing the universal conspiracy against her beloved memories.
-What could she do to mitigate the misfortunes of others, however great
-and innumerable they might be? Those women who seemed to deny their own
-griefs filled her with a sort of dismay.
-
-She passed hours of sleeplessness revolving these ideas, determining at
-whatever cost to master herself, and forget the whole distracted world.
-She fell asleep vowing henceforth to belong wholly to the memory of
-Jean.
-
-Yet the next morning, Sunday, coming out of church, she found no rest
-till she had met Mme. de Calouas and asked her:
-
-"Could I be of use to you at the hospital?"
-
-"I was expecting you," Mme. de Calouas replied. "I would do nothing to
-bring you before the time; but I am glad that you wish to come. I will
-begin by taking you under my wing; for your initiation you shall be my
-helper. Does that suit you?"
-
-"Of course. I do not know how to do anything."
-
-"When will you come?"
-
-"When you please."
-
-"Well, I will leave you your Sunday. Or rather, come with me now, that I
-may at once get you received by the head doctor, and find a provisional
-cap and blouse for you. The rest will be for to-morrow morning."
-
-Odette saw the head doctor; she tried on the nurse's costume which her
-friend would lend to her until she could procure one; and at eight
-o'clock the next morning, after having signed an engagement, she entered
-the hospital, almost as if she was entering a convent.
-
-At that hour the hired women were sponging the floors with wet cloths,
-and through the wards resounded the click of buckets set down, the metal
-handle falling against their sides. The floors exhaled moisture. The sea
-air, entering by the open windows, swept out the odor of the sick-room.
-Convalescent men were going to the lavatories; others were helping
-comrades with helpless arms to wash themselves upon their cots.
-
-Odette asked for Mme. de Calouas, and found her before the twenty beds
-allotted to her. A dozen of them were occupied by seriously wounded men,
-who gazed upon the newcomer with embarrassing steadfastness. Mme. de
-Calouas led Odette to the room where dressings were done, passing
-through the whole ward, where sixty men were exchanging the morning
-greetings of the soldier, now rough, now amusing. She was, above all,
-surprised that the nurses paid them no attention.
-
-While giving instructions to her pupil Mme. de Calouas was busy
-disinfecting mugs, unrolling pieces of cotton and tearing them into
-bits, counting piles of compresses, tubes, drains. The room exhaled an
-odor of antiseptics, sweet and insipid.
-
-They returned to the ward, and Mme. de Calouas made known to her each
-patient by name, with certain indications as to his case; she begged
-Odette to wash this or that one, to make the bed of an unfortunate who,
-with only one arm, could not do it alone.
-
-"Be careful what you say to them," she whispered in her ear. "Remember
-that their estimate of you will depend upon your first words."
-
-Odette observed that the patients gazed at her without once turning away
-their eyes. She won their approval by the first words she uttered, and
-by the gentleness with which she washed the faces of two or three
-helpless men, and she saw their expressions change. Those eyes so full
-of agony, which make unpractised fingers tremble, were softened. Her
-hands were dexterous, her face attractive. There was one poor fellow
-whom she had to wash from head to foot, like a new-born baby, a
-difficult task for a beginner. When all was finished and he was wrapped
-in clean linen she was about to pass to another bed, when the patient
-said: "Wait, madame!" And she saw him painfully turn in his bed, raise
-his sheet, awkwardly stretch out a suffering arm in the attempt at any
-cost to reach the case that hung at the head of the bed. She held the
-linen bag within his reach, and he, hesitating, fumbling, blindly
-feeling among a litter of things, a knife, letters, bits of bread,
-succeeded in extracting two photographs, those of his wife and his two
-little children. He desired to reward the new nurse for her kind
-offices, and he did his best by introducing her to his little family.
-Deeply touched, Odette praised the wife and the two children, and
-thenceforward the poor fellow was her friend.
-
-Mme. de Calouas came to say that the stretcher-bearers were coming to
-carry "the thigh" to be dressed. Odette followed "the thigh." The new
-nurse was asked to cut the dressing. She broke into a cold perspiration;
-she thought the scissors were defective, and her remark provoked a smile
-from all the experts around; only the patient looked at her with an
-apprehension which seemed to paralyze her.
-
-"You must learn to cut dressings," said Mme. de Calouas. "You will get
-used to it; just a knack."
-
-Finally the steel succeeded in biting through the damp compresses. When
-they fell apart the wound appeared. It was an open fracture of the leg,
-whence exhaled the special sickening smell of osseous pus. The large
-wound spread open like a nightmare flower with thick petals, soft and
-viscid, covered with a creamy layer of dull old-rose color. They washed
-it; the patient gritted his teeth; now and again a cry escaped from the
-thin little brown face. When they looked at him he was brave enough to
-smile and say, "That's all right."
-
-Odette was more ill than the wounded man. As on the previous evening,
-she asked that she might go out into the air, and when she stumbled at
-the door, turned pale, and was about to faint, the orderly, who
-understood these phenomena, with the help of a valid patient laid her
-all along upon a marble slab. It was only for a moment, and she returned
-to the room, saying, like the wounded man: "That's all right." The
-uninterrupted process of dressing made even her forget the incident. A
-kindly woman drew her into an embrasure and gave her a drop of cordial.
-
-At that moment a man was being carried to the operating-room. He
-blustered a little as he addressed to his comrades the classic _au
-revoir_ which may so well be an _adieu_: "I am going to my game of
-billiards!"
-
-"Try to win, old fellow," they answered from all parts of the ward.
-
-And, without flinching, Odette was present at "her" first operation.
-
-She returned home at half past twelve, exhausted, but lighter in heart
-and satisfied with herself.
-
-"Madame is pale," said Amelia. "Madame is the color of the lamp-shade
-when the lamp is lighted."
-
-After luncheon she slept heavily for half an hour, and returned to the
-hospital. The afternoon was more calm, at least until the second visit
-of the head physician, before the men's six-o'clock meal. She made
-further acquaintance with her patients; she heard them talk about the
-war. She found occasion to say, "My poor husband was killed on the 22d
-of September," but it produced no great effect, none of those soldiers
-having known Lieutenant Jacquelin. Each told about what he had seen, and
-nothing else seemed to him to have a real existence. She was
-disappointed, but by their various touching stories of what they had
-been through, she was introduced to that war of which she had determined
-to know nothing since her husband was dead. The battles of the Yser, the
-sufferings of the combatants who had passed day after day in freezing
-water, the grotesque onslaughts of the Germans, the piles of dead under
-the ominous skies, set her imagination to work. Always thinking of her
-husband, she saw him all alone in the face of those infuriated enemies,
-trampled down by them.... He had gone out with drawn sabre from his
-little village, at the head of his company, and he had been killed
-outright. Before the survivors of the Yser she no longer dared speak of
-the circumstance of the lieutenant's death, beautiful though it was.
-This war seemed to be enlarging, growing beyond measure great.
-
-They were beginning to organize the hospital for the winter; certain
-persons insisted that the war would not be over in six months; others
-said with conviction: "Nor in eighteen months either!" But these were
-suspected of sowing demoralization. Yet the English were making
-preparations for three years! From her friend La Villaumer, who was
-still in Paris, Odette received letters in which he wrote:
-
-"We are like children, sometimes gay, laughing and gamboling, at others
-howling, no one knows why. My dear friend, busy yourself with your work,
-and don't read the papers. As for me, there is something which impresses
-me more than the monstrous movements of the German colossus: it is the
-soul of the colossus. It is _one_; it has only one purpose, which is the
-greatness of the German nation. It is a rudimentary sentiment, savage,
-primitive, barbarous, but how strong! We ourselves are fighting because
-we have been attacked, and also to defend ideas which do us the greatest
-honor: liberty, justice, and the like. We are animated by a very lively
-sentiment of the rights of man. We love humanity; they, the Germans,
-love Germany. How much more simple it is, and how it relieves them of
-all the scruples that hold us back! And yet, in the final issue, it is
-he who shall have triumphed by force who will lay down the moral values
-of the future."
-
-Thus, uncertainty, admiration, confidence, scepticism, and a state of
-alarm were concurrently implanted in minds, and Odette, affected by
-them, like every one else, began from that day to be infected, as with
-the odor of the hospital, with this irritating compound.
-
-Little by little it seemed to her that she no longer upheld herself, but
-that she let herself be carried away, borne along and guided by the life
-of the hospital. It was at once horrible and almost laughable. A place
-of pain, the perpetual reminder of enormities which the human brain
-could never have conceived, it was also an assemblage dominated by
-youth, which saves all. In the gaze of those prostrate wounded, gaze
-which had become of so much importance to her who passed and repassed
-along the bedsides, burned a flame disturbing and alluring, result of
-the burning away of something that could not be named. At times, one
-felt as if in certain of those wounded men one saw beings returned from
-the beyond. They had seen what nothing had prepared them to see,
-something that confused them, both their senses and their judgment. Some
-of them said: "It was hell!" Others, much more simple-minded, merely said:
-"One must have been there!" Certain of them, without imagination or
-memory, living entirely in the present moment, shut up within themselves
-an unconscious gravity which was in strange contrast with their youthful
-natures. But in a general way a new nurse like Odette could aver:
-
-"But the wounded are not sad!"
-
-"Because," some one would reply, "they are all happy at not being dead."
-
-Thus, day succeeded day, without softening Odette's personal sorrow, but
-as if shrouding it behind a mourning veil which covered all that she
-could imagine of earth's surface. Everything made her think of Jean, but
-she had not time to appear to be thinking of him, and she shrank from
-speaking of him.
-
-She led a very active life. It would happen that just as she sat down at
-table, all alone in the evening in the Elizabeth pavilion, the door-bell
-would ring. It would be one of the volunteer employees, passing along on
-his bicycle to notify the nurses that a train of one hundred and twenty
-wounded men was announced to reach the station at eleven o'clock. By
-half past ten Odette, who would not take a nap, and who knew not what to
-do at home, was already at the hospital, in her cap and blouse. The more
-zealous ones were there, and the more indolent ones as well, welcoming
-the opportunity to get together and gossip. The head physician was
-coming and going, opening and shutting doors; the doctors were arriving
-one by one; the surgeon, all in white, his sleeves turned back to the
-elbows, was talking with the women. The telephone-bell rang; it was the
-police commissioner sending word that the train was an hour late. A few
-persons were in despair; there were some whom the matter moved to
-laughter. Every one waited. And sometimes the train, instead of one
-hour, was two or three hours late. Resignation became general in
-proportion as reasons for impatience accumulated. In the great hall
-where they were all assembled some seated themselves on anything they
-could find, others lay down upon stretchers. Bright conversation grew
-dim with the lights. White-robed women, going up or down stairs on
-tiptoe, seemed like angelic apparitions. Through the partitions came the
-heavy breathing of sleeping men. Suddenly the ringing of a bell startled
-every one; the train was drawing into the station at last. The lights
-were turned up. Ten minutes later the first automobiles were sounding in
-the court. The double-leaved doors were thrown wide, notwithstanding the
-cold, the stretcher-bearers rushed out, and in a moment, contrasting
-with their rapid bounds, came slowly the wounded soldiers, bleeding,
-bearded, covered with earth, wan, exhausted; some of them half-naked,
-some with frozen feet, upheld or carried by sturdy fifteen-year-old
-lads. All were silent, a religious respect hushed the words upon the
-lips. This torn flesh, these rags of French uniform, wrought in the mind
-of every being not utterly insensible a change in his idea of the
-pathetic; something of the atmosphere of the firing-line entered and
-asepticized every heart.
-
-The next morning the sense of familiarity returned. But in that one hour
-of the dark winter night, while the surgeon, bending over each victim,
-was asking him almost tenderly: "And you, my child?"--something august,
-an exhalation of the colossal human sacrifice, penetrated into this
-commonplace old hotel hall, sanctifying it for all time to come. And not
-one of those men or women who had been there, however advanced the hour
-of the night, however visible the fatigue on all their faces, but was
-glad for having been there.
-
-Whence came these wounded men? From Ypres, from Arras, from Notre-Dame
-de Lorette. The names called up all that any one knew, through
-newspapers and private talk, of those charnel-houses whose image the
-imagination refuses to harbor, upon which those who have escaped from
-them keep silence.
-
-Odette, soapy brush in hand, forcing back all repugnance, doing as
-others did, was helping to soothe agonies which humanity seems never
-before to have known or dreamed of. The most shocking duties no longer
-repelled her. The very effort which she was compelled to make, by the
-contrast between what she was seeing and doing and what life had
-formerly offered her, pressed the character of the catastrophe to her
-mind which lacked capacity to conceive of it. "Is it, then, so great?"
-she would wonder. And even: "Is there after all anything great?" For no
-soul in the world had taught her this. The inevitable contrast with her
-past life, all for herself, for her individual satisfaction, seemed to
-dishonor her memories, even of happiness, making them almost trivial.
-This, indeed, was the opinion of Mme. de Calouas, but not that of
-Amelia, whom in her solitude it became sometimes necessary to oppose.
-
-"Madame adopts the ideas of those around her," the maid would say; "it
-is all very well, but Madame may believe me: the good time, and the true
-time, was before all this, when the poor men were not preparing to be
-made into hash."
-
-
-
-
-IX
-
-
-Who would have believed it a year ago? Odette took the inclination to
-follow to the cemetery the pitiful funerals of dead soldiers, not
-because it offered her a pretext for a walk into the country in the free
-air, for she had done that--she, so susceptible to cold--all through the
-black winter. But before everything else she was thinking that she had
-not followed her husband to the grave. After all that she had endured,
-still reverent of century-old rites, not to have followed the body of
-her husband in a funeral car to his last abode seemed to her to have
-failed in a sovereign duty. Alas! her husband's body had been carried in
-no funeral car, no one had followed him to the grave! She did not permit
-herself to dwell upon these heartrending details, but in accompanying
-the mortal remains of the soldiers she felt that she was to a certain
-degree acquitting herself of an indispensable duty that had not been
-rendered to Jean. Then the ceremony at the church moved her. The panoply
-of war mingling with hymns and words of peace, the tumult of battle set
-over against the sacerdotal acts of the priest, and the prayers for the
-eternal rest of the soul that had known to the uttermost the horror of
-earthly chaos, combined in some way to deaden the pain of mind, senses,
-and heart.
-
-The funeral train would climb the narrow, serpentine road which led to
-the old town on the hill. Wounded comrades, hobbling along, their feet
-ill defended from the rough ground by straw slippers, some of them
-lacking an arm and others an eye, would follow the hearse of the poor,
-covered with the tricolor, behind the old parents or the young widow in
-tears; then would come delegates from the municipality and the hospital,
-then kindly disposed followers, pious people, idlers. The hedges would
-be growing green; the farms, with flocks of children at the doors and
-lowing cattle, would be awaking from the sleep of the long winter; one
-could hear the click of the milk-pail as it was set down upon the
-ground, the apple-trees in the fields were great tufts of unsullied
-flowers. When the procession, having climbed the hillside, turned toward
-the right the town came into view, its hotels and casinos transformed
-into hospitals with the floating red cross, its church-towers, its long
-white beach, the boundless sea with its line of English transports,
-untiringly through all the months, bringing from afar British troops to
-the land of France. The whole picture melted away into the national flag
-that covered the body of the little soldier, shot through by a ball on
-the plains of Picardy. In all this there was a new and incomparable
-poetry; the self-sacrifice of a man to something that he hardly
-understands, a notable act in which all desired to participate; and by
-contract the everlasting unconcern, the utter indifference, of nature.
-
-Every one, without exception, was thinking of the end of the war. It was
-an illusion wrought by the spring, the renaissance of all that lives,
-the urgent need of peace and happiness that all creatures and plants cry
-out for beneath the returning sun. Those behind the hearse shook their
-heads, saying: "What a calamity!" But all were thinking: "It will surely
-soon be over." They sighed: "My God, grant that this may be the last to
-go!" Alas, it was only the first springtide of the war! If a prophetic
-voice should have cried: "In the spring of next year, in the spring of
-another year, and still of another, this same ceremony will take place,
-the same hopes will be uttered, the same illusions cherished! For season
-shall follow upon season, year upon year, only the horror and
-unhappiness shall be changed, for they shall increase and time shall
-know them out of all proportions that are called reasonable"--assuredly
-these good people would have been crushed.
-
-As they went down the hill they gathered flowers along the roadside. The
-soldiers stopped in the wine-shops where they were given cider, and all
-returned to their places at once moved, saddened, and enriched by hopes,
-as is always the case when a new victim has succumbed.
-
-Spring passed, and summer, and autumn.
-
-Odette never spoke of her husband's death, though she was always
-thinking of it. She had found neither officer nor soldier who had known
-him. The death of Lieutenant Jacquelin in the early days of the war was
-a disappearance like so many others, in a chain of events that had no
-common measure. A man would fall, another man would take his place;
-nearly all the officers by profession were dead, and there were officers
-still.
-
-"What is a man?" a common soldier asked her one day on the beach.
-
-
-
-
-X
-
-
-Early in the following spring, when the gardens that surrounded the
-villas of Surville were gay with flowering plums, and the countryside
-was again covered with those lovely trees of rosy snow that it is a pain
-to look at when men are killing one another, when the woods were
-venturing to confide to the brisk air their new-born foliage, Odette was
-obliged to make a visit to Paris.
-
-During the journey, in company with convalescents and men on furlough,
-old men, and women in mourning, she was astonished to find herself so
-much attached to the hospital which she had entered almost against her
-will, drawn by something which seemed not to belong to her real self.
-
-"Most of the women that I have met there," she reflected, "are of an
-unlovely pettiness, and one would say that they strive to transform the
-most innocent act into a shameful offense, from a desire to believe that
-there are traitors, guilty persons everywhere, and by a strange
-inclination to find the presence of the devil in every corner! And yet
-their service is excellent." Cunning malice, destructive backbiting,
-scandal set on foot by inconsiderate comments on trivial acts, often
-meaningless and that might well have been left unnoticed, open jealousy,
-absurd vanity, the most insidious intrigues to work up to distinction;
-to sum up, utter triviality--all these composed a body of customs
-recognized, admitted, in no respect casting a blot upon respectability.
-Only one thing led up to the mark of infamy: anything which nearly or
-remotely might resemble love.
-
-How surprising this had appeared in the eyes of a Parisian woman of
-twenty-seven, who had lived in the world of society during the years
-between 1905 and 1914!
-
-Odette mused upon that social circle, young, cheerful, given to sports,
-relatively kindly and prosperous, who before the war had surrounded her.
-
-What had become of Simone de Prans, Rose Misson, Clotilde Avvogade,
-Germaine Le Gault, and M. de La Villaumer? She had received brief
-missives from them, postal-cards rather than letters. On her part, had
-Odette perhaps disconcerted her friends by the accounts she sent them;
-had she perhaps wearied them by her persistent grief? Simone and Rose
-still had their husbands, the former grievously wounded, the other still
-whole, running about in his car as usual; Avvogade was attached to Great
-Headquarters. Can any one understand the sorrow from which he does not
-himself suffer?
-
-On reaching Paris Odette was singularly impressed. When she had gone to
-Surville in 1914, to forget the war and think only of her dead, she had
-been surprised to find herself on the contrary all the nearer to the
-war. The trains of wounded, life among the wounded, the almost sole
-society of men but recently escaped from death; all this was far
-different from her recluse life in the apartment of the Rue de Balzac,
-which had indeed recalled the memory of Jean, but had also recalled the
-memory of the time of peace. Monotony of occupation, the continual
-living-over of the same emotions, at last dulls the sensibilities. The
-war as it appeared to her after eighteen months of hospital experience
-was a state of things to which her organism and her thought had become
-moulded. The long daily weariness, the constantly renewed effort, dulled
-her senses and confused her perception of events.
-
-Paris in March, 1916, seemed to her much more like war than Surville.
-The battle of Verdun was at its height, and all Paris was ringing with
-its echoes wherever one might be. Newspapers, conversations, the
-tramways, the metro, the taxi chauffeur who gave you change, the woman
-who sold you a magazine, servants, masters, the rich, the poor, bank
-employees, even to the sellers of violets in the streets, all brought to
-mind the war and Verdun, yet mutely, less by outcries than by quiet
-words, less by words than by changed color, the graying of the hair or
-of the beard, faded eyes, new wrinkles, and a certain indefinable
-manner. The whole earth and everything that it bears, every creature
-moving upon it, were a single sensitiveness, raised to its most acute
-degree. Acts and gestures apparently most remote from the war,
-receptions, dinners, the crowd at the entrance of the moving-picture
-shows, of classical concerts, of the few remaining music-halls, only
-showed the necessity for certain temperaments to tear themselves away
-from the nightmare of Verdun. Every one was affected by it, and so much
-the more as they were forced to tell themselves: "There are those who
-are suffering infinitely more than we."
-
-Odette, in her apartment, was once again overwhelmed by her personal
-sorrow. She had lived in Surville with her grief buried in the depths of
-her heart, for though everything she saw reminded her of Jean she had no
-leisure to give herself to dwelling upon the past. In the Rue de Balzac
-all her sorrow came to meet her entire as on the first day. It seemed as
-if her stay at Surville had done nothing for her. When Simone de Prans
-came to welcome her, it seemed to Odette that her friend had just
-arrived with the terrible news, and she melted into tears. Her tears
-surprised Simone, who dared not reproach her with exaggerating her
-sorrow, but who yet brought herself to give her to understand that so
-long and so violent a grief was not fitting, that no one any longer wept
-like that. Odette, made docile by eighteen months of punctual obedience
-to orders, did not resist, made no objection. "No one any longer wept
-like that"; it was a custom, one of those sovereign customs, which a
-Parisian woman instinctively accepts. Simone had said: "You understand,
-there are too many!" Which signified, such misfortunes are too numerous;
-they are raining down on everybody. The human heart would not be equal
-to its task if it must be always sympathizing; each woman in mourning
-would herself die of it, creating a new and superfluous pain. She spoke
-with the greatest ease of her Pierrot, one leg paralyzed, one arm five
-centimetres shorter than the other and with shattered nerves. He was at
-the Ministry of War, and was content. She told of a ceremony which she
-had accidentally witnessed that morning, passing the Madeleine on her
-way back from the Flower Market. "A fine marriage, you know; red carpet
-on the steps, a crowd to right and left. Just as I was passing the doors
-opened, and up above I saw the young couple."
-
-"There are still men to marry?"
-
-"Listen; she, who appeared to be pretty, a lovely girl, a brunette,
-tall, leaning, as if enamoured, on her husband's arm; he in uniform, his
-decorations flashing on his breast. Oh, the handsome fellow, not thirty
-years old! He held himself upright, splendid, not looking at his feet;
-two large eyes wide open and fixed, as if he were speaking to a
-superior. She seemed to be indicating the steps by a gentle pressure of
-the arm, that he might not lose an inch of his fine height. Behind them
-one could hear the swellings of the great organ. There was an impulse to
-applaud, for he was evidently a hero, unmaimed and superb. Every one was
-glad in the happiness of his charming wife, though pitying her in the
-midst of admiration, for to-morrow her handsome officer must return to
-the firing-line, and the war is endless. Suddenly there was a movement
-in the crowd, murmurs, whisperings, faces turned pale; the handsome
-officer had just missed falling, my dear, notwithstanding the care of
-his young wife to hide his infirmity, for he was blind!"
-
-"It's frightful, frightful," exclaimed Odette.
-
-She had seen and nursed most grievously wounded soldiers; but
-unconsciously a sort of convention had been established in her mind by
-which nothing that she saw, or that happened in the hospital at
-Surville, should move her. This first result of the war which had faced
-her elsewhere than at Surville, and under another aspect, impressed her
-almost intolerably. On the other hand, Simone had become accustomed to
-the dramatic scenes which at times occur in Paris, where everything is
-perhaps all the more sad because the war drama is close at hand, aping
-normal life. This juxtaposition of the manners of a time of peace and
-these shadows of the pit which mingle with the life of every day, more
-like a prolonged dream than like reality, produce surprising effects
-upon reflective minds.
-
-Simone de Prans, who for a time had taken up work in a model hospital,
-an American hospital, was no longer a nurse. That was no longer done.
-
-"What about our good Rose?" asked Odette.
-
-"Rose Misson has arranged her life. She has resolved not to yield to
-things; she has been too much teased about her old husband, always going
-about in his automobile. Neither Rose nor her husband is disturbed by
-that; he remains on his seat; she dresses, visits the shops as in former
-times and receives the few friends who are not indignant because her
-husband has not lost two or three limbs. Between ourselves, I think she
-is a woman who is doing a great deal of good."
-
-"Only she does not cry it upon the housetops?"
-
-"No; they will be upbraided for it all their lives, she and her husband;
-he, free from all military obligation, for having 'ambushed' himself in
-his automobile, she for having retained her placid manner, her good
-humor."
-
-"I thought that optimism was in fashion."
-
-"Optimism, yes, but not naturalness. The approved sort of optimism
-consists in unendingly predicting victory, with the jaw of a tigress,
-and in determinedly transforming all bad news into a presage of success.
-But those who maintain a quiet confidence without talking about it, and
-make life around them more pleasant by their usual good temper, are
-suspected of indifference."
-
-"And in all this, what about you, Simone?"
-
-"Me? I have a husband deep in government councils, haven't I? It is a
-power in these days. People leave me alone."
-
-"And Germaine?" asked Odette.
-
-Simone appeared somewhat embarrassed. People hardly dared to talk of
-Germaine Le Gault. Germaine Le Gault had lost her husband at about the
-same time with Odette, and almost under the same circumstances. Like
-Odette, Germaine adored her husband. Germaine had taken the loss even
-more deeply to heart than Odette; her life had even been in danger.
-Germaine, like Odette, still wore her deep widow's mourning. And
-Germaine was now in love; in love beyond the possibility of concealment,
-in love with a head physician in whose service she had worked. He was a
-married man and a father.
-
-"La Villaumer insists," said Simone, "that in her case it is simply a
-lack of imagination, and that no one should blame her. He says, you
-understand, that she is unable to bring before herself, as you do, for
-example, a vision of her husband. If she had been capable of bearing
-about with her a persistent picture of him, she would have been
-faithful, if it were only to a picture; but she has no imagination; it
-is necessary to her that her mind should rest upon an object. It is one
-explanation--probably a paradox."
-
-At that moment they heard in the neighboring apartment the playing of an
-excellent pianist which had formerly lulled the reveries of Odette when
-she was waiting for Jean. That neighboring apartment, into which the
-Jacquelins had never set foot, was separated from theirs only by a thin
-partition and a door. The music had often fretted Jean, but when Odette
-was alone she had loved to hear it.
-
-"Listen!" said Odette. "Oh, it is more than eighteen months since I have
-heard music!"
-
-"That is so," said Simone; "in Paris one finds a little of everything
-that one used to love; it is that that hurts."
-
-"What is she playing?" asked Simone after a moment.
-
-It was a revery; two lovers who are seeking one another, groping in the
-darkness of a garden on a lovely summer night; you hear their hesitating
-footsteps, you suspect their vexed and feverish gestures, their eager
-lips that call one another without imprudently pronouncing a name;
-though their footsteps creak upon the gravel and a fountain drops its
-slow pearls into the basin. Suddenly the music of a waltz attracts them
-separately to the lighted house, and they exchange kisses on the steps
-of the entrance, before being swallowed up in the intoxicating motion.
-
-"Oh!" exclaimed Odette, thrilled, "do you remember, do you remember?"
-
-"What?" asked Simone.
-
-"Why, everything! Everything that happened _before_, before this end of
-the world that never ends!"
-
-Odette, overcome by the harmonious reminder of the waltz of a possible
-festival, of the joy of living, of being pretty, young, beloved, could
-only repeat:
-
-"I haven't heard ... anything ... for more than eighteen months, Simone!
-Do you remember that evening at Mme. Sormellier's, at Bellevue, where
-both our husbands were so beautiful?"
-
-"And we, too, Odette! We shall be old after the war. We shall have had
-hardly five or six years of youth. I will confess to you that sometimes
-I juggle with fate. I go to see Clotilde, who refuses to permit herself
-to be touched by events. She says: 'I can do nothing about it; I am good
-for nothing. Let the world let me alone as I let it alone! Till my last
-hour I will stay with my flowers, my books, and my music.'"
-
-"Ah! Clotilde, yes; do you know, I had forgotten her!"
-
-"Everybody is forgetting her, and she forgets everybody. Her husband is
-at Great Headquarters; he often comes. She is a privileged person, and
-she says: 'Why should I not accept all the good that is offered me?'"
-
-"Yes," said Odette, "it is tempting, but I could not do it.--No, I could
-not.--See, I tried to shut myself up with my grief. Well, I could not.
-It is too great--this universal sorrow--too absorbing. Listen!"
-
-The pianist next door, still devoted to her Chopin, which she performed
-in a remarkable manner, was beginning the First Nocturne, the one that
-contains that phrase of lamentation, heartrending in its sober scheme
-and its sustained phrasing, without outcry or burst of passion, leaving
-the soul to the lasting sense of human woe.
-
-"Oh, listen--listen!"
-
-The pianist was accompanying herself with her grave, finely cadenced
-voice, following without words the sinuous course of the thrice-repeated
-utterance of sorrow. Odette began to sob; her nerves were unstrung by
-the apparent return to things of former days, while yet acutely
-conscious of the dreadful present.
-
-"I must give up this apartment, after all," she said between her sobs.
-
-"Yes, you will have to," replied Simone; "you would be overwhelmed with
-your sense of loss."
-
-"For that matter I must give up everything."
-
-"Everything? What more, do tell me!"
-
-"Myself! See, I cannot delude myself longer."
-
-"My poor Odette! You are hardly four days out of your hospital, and you
-go to pieces! We are only kept up by the presence of those who have
-suffered a thousand times more than we. You can't imagine what it is for
-me that my Pierrot has miraculously escaped death, with his body half
-destroyed. It is he who saves me from unhappiness. Those who have looked
-death in the face and yet have returned to life find it beautiful,
-whatever it is, and their wonder at it spreads to all around them."
-
-"Yes, yes. I have felt that. If I had my poor Jean, even all broken to
-pieces, I should think only of the joy of having him safe. But I have
-him no longer, and the past draws me, at times, as if some one much
-stronger than I were taking me by the arms and drawing me backward with
-irresistible power. Do you remember Isadora dancing among her children
-and throwing flowers in one of the motives of the ballet of "Armida"?
-And that great fool Antoine Laloire behind us, crying: 'When one has
-seen that one may well say, "Thank you," to God and close one's eyes
-forever!' He had no idea how well he was speaking. They say he had a
-splendid death."
-
-"Yes. All our admiration must from this time forward be given to the
-beauty of our warriors. Harmonious forms, enchantment--we are done with
-them all, my poor child, done with them!"
-
-"Done with them! So they say. So I thought, too, when I saw those men
-coming in by the hundreds, reduced to a mass of bleeding pulp; I still
-think so when I think of the long line of devastation which is spreading
-over Europe, of all those human beings who are every day dying around
-their torpedoed vessels; but think! The moment the art of our former
-days is able to realize itself anywhere, beyond a partition, it rises
-upon us like the sun that has been two days hidden. It will rise again,
-Simone! If only a few individuals are left who can hear a note, a
-shepherd will be found to invent the flute once again, by bringing reeds
-together."
-
-"You say that because the art of which you are speaking only increases
-your sadness. You are cultivating your sadness, and loving it still. If
-you were less melancholy, like me, you would consent to accept the new
-life just as it offers itself; but you will always see it irremediably
-disfigured, poisoned by an overwhelming horror. Life from henceforth is
-a Lady Macbeth with red and horrific hands, marking with a bloody spot
-everything that it touches. What fine art could flourish except by means
-of men not yet born, men who will not come into the world until after
-this horror is no longer spoken about?"
-
-"Remember what those poor friends of ours used to say when they talked
-so well in our gatherings of former days: the flowers that bloom on
-graves are as fresh and the harvests that grow on battlefields are more
-abundant than those on fields that have never known crime and death;
-they are innocent, divinely innocent of all the past. The souls of
-artists are like flowers; and they purify the imaginations that have
-been soiled."
-
-"And the conclusion is that you and I both, my dear, have after all a
-good share of optimism, otherwise called a reserve strength upon which
-we can draw for a certain time. Let us hope it may be for a long time.
-And we find the same thing under the distress of nearly all men. Ah, how
-strong life is!"
-
-
-
-
-XI
-
-
-Odette began a round of visits.
-
-For the most part they were visits of condolence. She went first to Mme.
-de Blauve, who had lately lost her young son, that charming boy of
-seventeen whom Odette had seen for a second in the Avenue d'Iena flying
-to the recruiting-office, to take the place of his father, who had been
-killed in the second month of the war. Mme. de Blauve had come back from
-Rheims, where at that time she had been a nurse, under unceasing
-bombardments; she had returned to her daughters, who were now growing
-up. Odette found the family no more crushed or morose than at the first
-time. The father, Commandant de Blauve, adored by all, was dead; the
-elder son, in his nineteenth year, was dead.
-
-"Happily," said Mme. de Blauve, "I have one left."
-
-"How old is he?" asked Odette anxiously.
-
-"He is about to enlist," said Mme. de Blauve simply. "Through him, I
-hope that our name will be represented to the end."
-
-Every one knew that this last son was her Benjamin, petted more than all
-her other children. Her present anxiety was for her daughters; she would
-fain have married them at once.
-
-"Marry them!" cried Odette; "but to whom, at such a time as this?"
-
-"To good young soldiers, that they may soon have children."
-
-Not the slightest emotion, though the family was truly affectionate; one
-single idea--to come to the defense of the country, by whatever means.
-Odette could not but admire, though at the same time she trembled.
-
-"How far advanced is your mourning?" asked Mme. de Blauve almost
-severely.
-
-"What?" asked Odette.
-
-"I mean, how long is it since you lost you dear husband?"
-
-"Just eighteen months," replied Odette.
-
-"You are young," said Mme. de Blauve; "my child, you still have duties
-to perform."
-
-"But," said Odette, bewildered, "I am doing what I can."
-
-"We will speak again of it in a few months," said Mme. de Blauve. "I
-shall not lose sight of you. I count you among the _good_ ones."
-
-She dwelt upon the word "good" as she bade Odette good-by.
-
-Odette did not in the least grasp Mme. de Blauve's meaning. Did she find
-her "good" because she had for a long time been conscientiously doing a
-nurse's duties, and did she think of sending her to some difficult post,
-requiring courage and constancy? She was cheerfully ready for anything.
-Only one thing troubled her; it was that the memory of Jean seemed to be
-relegated to so distant a past, seemed to hold so small a place in the
-thoughts of the people whom she was about to see, she being still in
-deep mourning, and having been away only seventeen months, to mourn for
-Jean.
-
-Why did Odette go directly from the Avenue d'Iena to see Clotilde? Not
-in the least by reason of the love of contrast, or the need for it, but
-because she was passing the Place of the United States, which attracted
-her with its trees adorned with their young leafage.
-
-She found Clotilde as she had always found her, extended upon an ancient
-couch, amid twenty cushions, a dozen books and magazines, in an elegant
-room, with a bunch of carnations flaunting their glory, and hyacinths in
-pots surrounding the young woman with a fragrant suggestion of spring.
-
-"Ah!" exclaimed Odette as she entered, without quite perceiving the
-significance of her exclamation.
-
-Clotilde, perfumed and her tall figure clothed in a Babani robe, kissed
-her joyfully.
-
-"You haven't fallen off much, Odette. Tell me, are these your cheeks? No
-more rouge than in the old days? Oh, how often I think of your loss, my
-dear!"
-
-She was the first person, except La Villaumer, who had spoken to her of
-her loss. Then there was still some one who remembered what had been her
-happiness, her extraordinary happiness.
-
-"I haven't written to you, Odette, because I was too lazy, and because I
-need to imagine the face of the person to whom I write. So far away,
-under your nurse's cap, I couldn't tell--you are pretty; I love you
-always. Oh, how sorry I am for you!"
-
-Odette, surprised, embarrassed, still under the influence of the life
-she had been leading, spoke as every one did:
-
-"There are so many of us who deserve to be pitied."
-
-"No, Odette, no; I am not saying that. No doubt there are many widows
-and many young women whose husbands or lovers are maimed, disfigured,
-ruined. But there are not many who, before all that, have truly enjoyed
-life and love. You have known love. You have had a few years that are
-worth being regretted."
-
-Tears rose to Odette's eyes. They were tears that gave no pain, which
-rather comforted her. It seemed that she had long been waiting to shed
-such tears. She had so constantly heard conventional words, forced
-expressions, the result of a strained situation which there was surely
-no reason to criticise; but, except from her wounded soldiers, she had
-not before heard words simply human.
-
-Clotilde was not afraid to talk persistently of Jean, not because she
-felt that at bottom she was giving pleasure to her friend, but because
-her thoughts naturally turned to attractive things, and she loved to
-remember that charming couple of perfect lovers that Jean and Odette had
-been. Never having checked her instinct, it now told her that Odette, in
-spite of her tears, enjoyed the revival of these memories. It was not
-Jean the soldier, Jean the hero, whose praises Clotilde sang. Odette had
-heard so many praises of heroes! She had handled so many with her own
-hands! There had never been but one Jean. He was Jean, just Jean, a
-fine, good, and handsome fellow who had nothing military, nothing
-surprising about him, except just that he was beloved. Who had dared to
-talk to her of that Jean since the war? No one. Clotilde was doing it in
-the unconsciousness of a woman who was still what she had been _before_.
-And Odette had felt some apprehension about seeing Clotilde again, just
-because she had feared that Clotilde had really not changed enough!
-
-The interview was soothing, even delightful to her. Clotilde seemed
-almost to have forgotten the war--a little more and she would have made
-her forget it. She talked of the books that she was reading; books
-written earlier than the present time; she talked, too, laughingly of
-her clothes, on the pretext of the diminished resources of the family;
-she spoke of certain middle-aged and even old men, saying that they had
-not been appreciated in the days when there had been plenty of young
-fellows. She offered her friend a cigarette; she smoked, and the two
-women looked at each other through curls of long, light clouds, as if in
-a dream.
-
-Odette went out somewhat amazed at the incredible ivory tower which
-Clotilde had succeeded in building around her youth, her beauty, and her
-selfishness.
-
-"Is Clotilde selfish?" she asked herself, as she turned from the Square
-of the United States. "And yet how she asked about my Jean! Clotilde is
-like every one else; she is interested in just one thing, has a passion
-for it. She has kept as by a miracle the one thing that she had before
-the war, and that is love. Everything that represents love captivates
-her; one feels that she gives herself up to it. The others yield to a
-different passion which, by the conditions of our time, takes on a more
-sympathetic form. Mme. de Blauve with sacred fury throws all her family
-into the jaws of Moloch; Mme. de Calouas, in Surville, has a passion
-only for the wounded, exclusively for wounded soldiers; I have seen her
-utterly insensible to an accident to a civilian; most of those women in
-the hospital had a passion for their duties there, thought themselves
-degraded when they had not the number of beds that satisfied their
-pride, lamented as if for a public misfortune when, by chance, fewer
-wounded soldiers came. There are even people whose passion it is to have
-no passions--and they are the most to be dreaded. Why should Clotilde
-deprive herself of her bouquet of carnations, her pot of hyacinths, her
-perfumed cigarettes, while they serve to create around her the illusion
-by which she lives, and of which, when the occasion comes, she gives her
-weary friends the benefit for a whole hour? Yet, could I do like her?
-No; decidedly not. Did not I, then, love love as she does? I do not
-know, I loved Jean. Then I am less simple than she; everything affects
-me. And everything is shaken. I am not flattering myself when I
-recognize that I am alive to more than one thing. I wanted to be wholly
-devoted to one--to my sorrow. I believe that I am alive only to my
-grief, and yet sometimes I think that in this I am mistaken."
-
-
-That day she felt an overwhelming lassitude. Clotilde had lapped her in
-"soft odors." As she was asking herself how she could finish the day she
-bethought her that she had been told that Mme. Leconque was another
-Clotilde, that is to say, a fairy capable of drawing one out of the war
-mood, though she belonged to a social set that was just now holding it
-as a great honor to give to it unstintingly both life and fortune.
-
-"I must not fail of seeing her," said Odette to herself, "and just now I
-prefer another Clotilde to a second Mme. de Blauve, who makes me
-shudder." She took a taxi to the end of the Avenue du Bois.
-
-Mme. Leconque was at home and alone. Muffled up in an ermine coverlet,
-in a room brightened by a wood-fire large enough to warm an
-assembly-room in the city hall, and surrounded by objects of art,
-ancient trinkets, Watteaux, Fragonards, she lay on a couch near a
-majestic bed, high and royal, covered with Venetian point, determinedly
-knitting, amid yawns, little stockings of coarse wool, for refugee
-children.
-
-"You, at least, have had enough of this butchery," she said.
-
-Odette, under her mourning-veil, admitted that for her part she found no
-pleasure in it.
-
-"I should be glad to know," went on Mme. Leconque, "what sort of a life
-they are giving us."
-
-Odette looked around at the great wood-fire, the walls of the room, a
-perfect museum, and at the silky fleece that enwrapped the form of the
-dissatisfied woman.
-
-"They have just telephoned me," Mme. Leconque went on, "that we have
-evacuated Malancourt. Just look at my stockings, if you call them
-stockings! I admit that I never paid seventy-five francs a pair for
-mine--I always sent to London for them and got them at thirty-five
-francs. And to-day I am wearing stockings at 3 francs 95!"
-
-"Why do you?" asked Odette.
-
-"You would despise me if I paid more for them, in these days. You are in
-mourning, my poor dear; you don't think about these matters. Do you know
-where we are all getting our clothes? In the Rue d'Alesia, my child, in
-a store where they sell ribbons on the main floor for eight sous a
-metre, and up-stairs you find models of all the great Paris dressmakers
-at a third of the regular price. You might go there out of curiosity;
-I'll take you, if you like. You will find ten autos at the door, lined
-up before the tin-shop, the general shops, the house-painters, and the
-wine-shops. And where do you think we try on? Anywhere, no matter where.
-On the staircase, in the corridors, in the shop itself, three women
-together, not to speak of the old husbands and the men on leave, in a
-little parlor decorated with two opposite mirrors! Absolute promiscuity,
-a mob that reminds you of the old Neuilly fair; broken windows, no heat,
-and drafts of air that pierce through the lungs! My dear, I bought a
-charmeuse gown there for one hundred and seventy-five francs that would
-have cost seven hundred and fifty at Lanvin's! The Duchess of
-Chateauruque goes there; the wife of the ambassador from X. goes, too.
-Can you imagine such a thing? Oh! we run against picturesque things
-during this war! Do you believe that life can go on this way?"
-
-"I don't think so, indeed," said Odette.
-
-"I see that you aren't pitying us. Well, for my part I tell you that I
-have had enough of this war, and that I despise it! Do you understand? I
-despise it. Ugh! ugh! and ugh!"
-
-Odette returned home along the darkening streets, thinking of Mme. de
-Blauve, the terrible. She felt much indulgence for Mme. de Blauve, the
-terrible.
-
-
-
-
-XII
-
-
-Odette had bought a newspaper. During the night the Germans had made a
-series of massed attacks, debouching upon Malancourt from three
-directions at once. Our troops had evacuated the devastated village
-"while keeping its outlets."
-
-Once again she tried to take refuge in her memories of love. But this
-evening the portraits of Jean that she saw around her did not speak to
-her of love. She felt that Jean, if he were there, would not talk of
-love that evening, but would turn away like an overwrought man to whom
-the beloved one insists upon saying: "Kiss me!" She could distinctly see
-the gesture which, however, she had seldom known. She could almost hear
-Jean saying: "My little love, I am anxious.... It is not that I lack
-confidence, but they are advancing step by step; it is disquieting,
-disquieting. You will think me cruel, but I should be glad to go back
-there. I would rather be there, do you see?" If he had been with her on
-permission he would have gone back! What torture! And she said to
-herself: "If he had not been killed the second month he would have been
-killed since then: twenty months without respite under the shells!"
-
-Days passed; the German attack upon Verdun wrought upon the great public
-of France a great silence. No noise, not an exclamation, no excesses in
-Paris; an imposing calm; a quiet crowd upon the boulevards, perfect
-order even on Sunday; almost gayety around the men who were home on
-leave who went about surrounded by young women in short skirts, Anamite
-caps or toques borrowed from the Palais, painfully walking on
-extravagantly high heels! Between four o'clock and seven every one was
-reading the newspaper. They were sold all through the city, not with
-loud shouts as if all Europe had been put to fire and sword, as when
-celebrated trials were going on; now that Europe actually was put to
-fire and sword, with less uproar than after the Auteuil races. In almost
-every heart the sublimity of the French struggle, the universal respect
-which it evoked throughout the world, overcame apprehension, stifled the
-sense of uncounted losses, and dominated that crater on the banks of the
-Meuse, in eruption over an extent of thirty-five kilometres, its lava
-overwhelming a whole countryside.
-
-Odette was invited to dine with officers who had returned from that
-hell, who were going back to it; and these men talked futilities like
-every one else: partly from kindliness, partly for their own pleasure,
-or in courteous resumption of the decorum of former days. Between two
-witticisms they would relate an episode such as no story of the age of
-fable could offer. Many of them were men who two years before had danced
-the tango, whom strait-laced old twaddlers had in those days held up to
-opprobrium. Thus Odette met again a young fellow of twenty-four, a
-captain, an officer of the Legion of Honor, lacking several fingers,
-wounded in the leg and the breast. He had the same simplicity, the same
-childlike grace, as in the old time at the Casino in Surville, and yet
-he had taken part in actions infinitely more grand than those of the
-Homeric heroes or of the wars of Cæsar or Alexander.
-
-He kissed a lady's hand, and that same evening went back to the jaws of
-the volcano. And that same week the word came that after having been
-three times buried alive in the undermined earth, his young body had
-been blown to atoms on Hill 304.
-
-
-
-
-XIII
-
-
-The next morning, her friend La Villaumer having come to see her, she
-introduced a subject which had been tormenting her.
-
-"The individuality of the soldier is not obliterated," said La
-Villaumer. "Either he expects to come through safe, believing himself to
-be a privileged person among the unlucky, or else he says to himself, 'I
-shall die, but it will be for something worth while,' and that even
-exalts his individuality. When that disappears or becomes attenuated it
-is by excess of suffering, of hoping against hope for the end of all
-that he is enduring--mud, cold, the incessant wooing of death, and ills
-without number, have annihilated in him all power of thought and
-feeling. And still it would be speaking too strongly to say that he goes
-deliberately to meet death. Never has any living being failed to pay to
-death the honor of a particular deference."
-
-"Do you think," asked Odette, "that one's individuality can be suddenly
-lost, or is it not rather unconsciously modified from day to day? You
-see, in the latter case no one can tell how far the metamorphosis may
-go! I see many people who have changed in the last eighteen months, and
-who seem not to be aware of it. I feel very clearly that I myself am
-different. I find only one part of myself unchanged; the part which
-binds me to the memory of my poor husband; nothing there is modified
-even in the very slightest degree--nothing; when I have leisure to think
-intently of him, I become again precisely the woman I used to be."
-
-"Yes, but with grief in addition."
-
-"That is true."
-
-"It is that which modifies us. It broadens us when it finds a heart in
-us, and for that matter it exists only so far as it finds a heart. It
-holds within itself many possibilities. Your grief began with embracing
-your personal calamity; that alone; and it still hugs it to itself, that
-is most natural; but it has unconsciously taken a further step,
-embracing the sorrows of others, a change which you never looked for.
-And that is making of you another person."
-
-"Will every one like me find themselves a tone above or below what they
-used to be--as if the whole keyboard had been transposed?"
-
-"I do not think so," said La Villaumer. "Nature changes little. Only
-sensitive souls are modified, and they are rare. It is they who at last,
-at the long last, act upon and change those around them. Characters
-change little, never fear! Yet this war will have been so intense that
-those at least who have had a part in it will retain something of it,
-like a strong leaven which will cause new things to germinate. We must
-expect new things; but we must not look to see the human race thrown off
-its centre. Historians, sociologists will have their work to do, while
-philosophers, moralists, the general run of writers may go on as they
-have done. The word 'democracy,' for instance, will cover much
-paper----"
-
-"Do you believe in such a thing, yourself?"
-
-"I believe in the word as I believe in all words. It is a mistake to
-disdain the old-fashioned verbalism--rhetoric, eloquence. The majority
-of words are hollow--yes, but they are hollow like bells whose
-sonorousness may by itself shake the whole world. Those who use words
-are inspired by various things, and generally by sentiments that they
-cannot acknowledge; yet the word touches the finest chords in the soul
-of men whom one wants to win over. 'Democracy' has a tone----"
-
-"Which will work good?--or evil?"
-
-"Alas! The popular instinct and an inevitable necessity urge men, in
-spite of words, to enslave themselves, and they will of their own accord
-submit to the tyranny of new leaders, new groups representing interests
-of which the crowd will know nothing. Almost all my pessimism is founded
-on the irresistible character of this law. Men must be commanded, and no
-one can be sure that those who command will not abuse their authority or
-the confidence which is freely granted to them. However, the official
-programme of democracy will be to devote all its effort to the
-well-being of poor humans who have not an average of fifty years to live
-in this world, who no longer believe in another world, and who in truth
-have some legitimate aspirations to live their few years for their own
-benefit, and with as little pain as possible."
-
-"Poor men!"
-
-"Yes, 'poor men!' That expresses the immense pity that will well up in
-every breast, throughout the entire universe. Fate will have demanded
-much of the human race. No doubt man has suffered through all time; but
-in a manner so prolonged and so scientifically cruel--no! At all events,
-never have men suffered in such great numbers; never have they been so
-acutely conscious of their sufferings. And then, in former times men who
-suffered had not been learnedly informed that the world had come to the
-end of suffering. Those who are suffering now believed themselves to
-have reached the highest point of a period of progress in every
-direction. Never had man more firmly believed himself to be on the
-border of the Promised Land, than at the very moment when he stumbled
-into the infernal pit! What an aggravation of torment! Men may have been
-sacrificed for far-off ends which too often have not been attained; they
-may have been obliged, merely for their own preservation as living
-beings, to obliterate their own intelligence, and to become through long
-years--they themselves have said it--a sort of brute. Those who will
-survive will not ask the meaning of subtleties, or will not be in a
-condition to understand them. They will have only one thought: 'And now,
-what of me, me, me?'"
-
-"A revival of individuality, then?"
-
-"Yes, but of a fierce individuality, in which all that has for so long a
-time been stifled within them will urge them on to mistaken acts; or
-else of an exhausted individuality which will be the prey of exploiters
-never known before."
-
-"Then you do not believe in a general betterment after this upheaval?"
-
-"I only believe in more or less prolonged periods during which faith in
-betterment is possible."
-
-"But, after all, man has goodness within him! He carries an ideal in his
-breast!"
-
-"That is to say that he carries within himself--nowhere but in
-himself--that small portion of happiness which he may ever hope to
-attain. In fact, I hold him to be truly happy only as he exercises
-goodness, or as he aspires to what he deems the best. Man, the child,
-the savage, very clearly recognizes justice, much less clearly the
-beautiful; but the idea of the beautiful, however imperfect it may be in
-him, moves and may make him better. If he permits himself to slide down
-those inclines which deviate from these ideas, he may experience a dizzy
-joy of a bad kind. He may work himself up to enjoy strange pleasures,
-but seldom without at the same time perceiving that he is duping
-himself, and that pure and deep joy is not in these things. Yes, it is
-in himself that man finds his sole source of felicity, as the glowworm
-his light. It may be that justice is entirely inapplicable and the
-beautiful wholly conventional, but what we may be sure of is that the
-inclination toward the just and the beautiful is most fruitful in happy
-results, though they will perhaps never find absolute realization."
-
-"That is all very well; but in fact you believe neither in beauty nor in
-justice!"
-
-"I believe in the passionate endeavor of man toward beauty and justice."
-
-"Which he will never attain?"
-
-La Villaumer suddenly changed his tone, and gazing smilingly upon the
-young woman said:
-
-"That would be paradise, my dear friend; be reasonable!"
-
-
-
-
-XIV
-
-
-It was the last hour of an April afternoon; budding foliage on the
-trees, the Arc de Triomphe, upon which every saunterer who looks to-day,
-looks with the vision of the triumphal procession to come, and the
-Champs-Elysées, unequalled promenade, which Odette and La Villaumer had
-so often seen crowded and joyful, in the days when the world was happy.
-
-"Do you remember? Oh, you were a little girl, loving to hang around
-Guignol and trail after the goat-carts. But I was then no longer very
-young. Do you remember the time when there were no automobiles, and when
-the victorias used to go slowly down the street bearing beautifully
-dressed women whom one had time to admire, to criticise, to recognize,
-and salute? The auto is perfect, but the best it can do is to rush from
-one place to another, and that has by no means the interest of the daily
-procession, when it seemed that every one still had time to live. Excuse
-my capricious imagination, but it seems to me that these machines were
-made just to bring us with all the more haste to the frightful time in
-which we are living. I dare say this to you because I know that you are
-not going to remind me that autos are rendering admirable service to the
-war, especially at this very time. You think, like me, that they also
-render service to our enemies, and that all these rapid means of
-reaching the battlefield coincide with a war without a conceivable end.
-In a general way, scientific inventions--don't confuse them with the
-sciences, which merit all veneration--conspire to give to this war a
-character of atrocity to which no armed conflict has ever attained, and
-I wish that it could be proved to me that they alleviate it in equal
-proportion. Think only of the horror which this 'progress' in the art of
-extermination inspires. How many brains are unable to resist it?
-Civilians are dying every day, and the best of them, who go to pieces
-merely from imagining the war. We see them fall like the hollow bark
-which still seems to support a tree. You yourself did not know in your
-childhood the amazement that Jules Verne's 'Nautilus' caused. But you
-witnessed the crazy conduct of your contemporaries the first time they
-saw an airship sailing about in the air. It was pretty, to be sure, and
-the audacity of the early pilots roused us all to enthusiasm. Recall to
-mind the saying that was current on the greensward at Deauville when
-twelve airplanes arrived from Havre, three hundred metres above the
-earth, all rosy in the sunset rays. 'The flying Peace,' some one said.
-I shrugged my shoulders sorrowfully, because I know that in the face of
-an astounding invention one must always think of the homicidal use to
-which man may put it. Man has once again stolen the fire of heaven; a
-new Zeus will punish him for it. Humanity will blindly and with ecstasy
-invent the instrument of its own destruction. By means of an admirable
-scientific instrument it will commit wholesale suicide with a beatific
-smile. Man has already abdicated in favor of a machine. The war that is
-being waged is a war no longer of men but of material. Man is belittled;
-the machine surpasses him! A rudimentary intelligence suffices to set
-the true force in motion. We are still believers in the ancient saying
-that the true force is manly virtue, the fine, old-fashioned bravery. We
-have belittled the only thing in the world which might be wholly
-great--man. Do we profess to worship that bravery of man which all the
-past has justified? Why, by the scientific character of war it has
-become--one dares permit himself the blasphemy--almost a sign of
-inferiority. We reckon upon the mystical value of our bravery, and we
-send our men by the thousands against an army of tools! By virtue of our
-century-old prejudices we honor only the man who exposes himself,
-sacrifices himself, furnishes, however uselessly, his proofs of courage,
-when the glory of our arms will belong to him who shall most securely
-have sheltered his divisions behind gigantic steam-hammers! The applied
-sciences have caused a moral revolution. By riveting man, who is before
-all else a soul, to material elements, they have destroyed whatever
-might be justifiable in the great contests of humanity. A paltry little
-engineer behind his disguised heavy cannon, or with his mitrailleuse
-under thirty metres of cement, counts for more than our superb heroes
-with their courage, their loyalty, and their white gloves. Man, chained
-like a galley-slave to a machine, to a chemical substance, is forced to
-unlearn what it is to be a man. He appears very intelligent when he is
-equipped with algebra and terminology; yes, we must grant to matter all
-that it can give, but pause a little: have you not an impression that
-something superior is lacking in so abnormal a compound? They have
-domesticated the forces of nature; they believe themselves Titans; and
-there they stand glowering at one another like beasts; they cannot
-distinguish themselves from these material fabrics that surprise and
-overwhelm them. They call themselves masters of matter, and matter is
-all the time jeering at them. Engineering genius is probably not the
-result of a knowledge of matter, but of a knowledge of man."
-
-
-
-
-XV
-
-
-At that period people were still dulling their senses with words and
-stupefying their minds with discussions, if so they might divert them
-from that one place which for the time being was as the pivot of the
-world, upon which they had for six months felt that all depended, as two
-years before all had for ten days depended upon the battle of the Marne.
-
-La Villaumer went to his club; his lip curled with an almost wicked
-smile at the thought of the ridiculously false news which that evening,
-as every other, he was about to hear. Then he reflected that the
-charming Odette, whom he had just quitted was very young, and asked
-himself whom she might marry.
-
-Odette, still carried away with the life at Surville, sick at heart with
-those friends of hers who were doing nothing but dying of _ennui_ and so
-demoralizing those around them, found comfort in frequenting such hives
-of activity as the Franco-Belgian headquarters and its numerous annexes,
-all congregated in the same building on the Champs-Elysées, where it
-seemed that all the misery of the world was perpetually going up and
-down its staircases, without respite and without end. She would go there
-as if in answer to a summons. So many, so many unfortunates who had lost
-their dearest possessions, their house, their village church! Meeting
-them on the muddy steps, she seemed to see, reflected in their startled
-eyes, a bit of countryside, a poplar-bordered road, a bit of garden, a
-hillside, fields of beets or of wheat. She had travelled, she knew all
-those sights which are the natural companions of the life of men. The
-odor of the hamlets came back to her, the warm breath of stables, the
-noisome scent of stagnant pools, the sharp smell of the tanneries in the
-north, the balsamic fragrance of cedar smoke from the bakeries, the
-appetizing aroma of warm bread, so little known in Paris. Then she would
-picture to herself the bewilderment of all these folk who had found
-refuge in a great, strange city to which they were not born, of these
-families who would never, never again see anything but the ruins of
-their villages, their countryside made unrecognizable by the absence of
-every elm, every bit of woods! She could have embraced them as they
-passed her; she longed to give them everything she possessed, things
-which, alas! could not replace what they had lost!
-
-She thought to herself: "What have they done? Of what are these people
-guilty? Why are these men tortured? Why were they captured and their
-poor homes and little fields destroyed, and the sons of their blood, who
-alone gave a moral meaning to their lives? Why were not these people
-masters of themselves? Why were they the prey of bandits who consider
-even their own people as puppets, created to serve their vainglory as
-soldiers, and who care less for the existence of thousands of living
-creatures than a child for his tin soldiers?" Her heart throbbed, her
-soul revolted. She reached the top of the stairs.
-
-To this building she had come without invitation to see an American
-woman who was freely and calmly consecrating her fortune, her
-intelligence, and her time to the unfortunates of the war. She came to
-ask if there was not something that she could do. The American woman
-looked at her with a smile.
-
-"You have something better to do for your country."
-
-"What?" asked Odette.
-
-"Oh, we will speak of that later."
-
-This answer had already been made to her. It had been said to her even
-at Surville, in the hospital, and with a mysterious air.
-
-She was disturbed by it, and spoke of it, on a venture, to Simone de
-Prans, whom she saw that evening.
-
-Simone and her husband both smiled as the American lady had done.
-
-"What do you all mean?"
-
-"Don't be disturbed," said Pierre de Prans seriously; "take care of
-yourself. A woman like you has services to give."
-
-"Well, I must do something," said Odette, trembling under her veil, "and
-as it is, I am doing absolutely nothing with my ten fingers!"
-
-
-
-
-XVI
-
-
-"Whenever the cloud of anguish rises even a little from the sky of
-Paris," said La Villaumer, "this city, so marvellously alive, clasps to
-itself life, of whatever kind, with a simple, natural impulse, without
-immoderation, but with a secret smile, always ready. Yet this power of
-life, on the whole so beautiful, has something that brings a frown to
-the brow of the onlooker; for it has within it insensibility and
-forgetfulness.
-
-"How disconcerting it is to see this new, mutilated humanity, pass in
-the streets almost without attracting attention. Young men in uniform,
-or returned to civil life minus a leg, on crutches, with an artificial
-limb, leaning on a cane like an old man, with an empty coat sleeve, an
-eye gone, nothing left of the nose but two breathing-holes, the jaw
-moulded over like a lump of potter's clay--or led along, sightless! They
-hardly arouse compassion, seldom even curiosity. There are so many of
-them! You can see the like in any place. War crosses, military medals,
-the Legion of Honor on the breast of a mere youth, which at one time
-would have attracted admiring glances and brought tears to women's eyes,
-are now hardly noticed. There are so many who have received or have
-deserved them! Most of those who possess them now wear only the ribbon
-on their jackets like civilians. The long duration and the barbarism of
-the war have spoiled everything. Men whose exploits cast into the shade
-the most famous examples of history with which the memory of school
-children is crammed, refuse to be called heroes. Heroes! There are so
-many of them! It was not to distinguish themselves, nor to cover their
-families with honor, nor even to set a noble example, that so many men
-have wrought prodigies; they did them modestly, because they had to be
-done in order to put an end to an abomination. With many the idea even
-of the country is attenuated in favor of something which makes much less
-appeal to the heart, the motive of which is only the cold persuasion
-that militarism must be destroyed; one must fight for very hatred of
-fighting. And here is something new, this vast uprising for war is
-producing no enthusiasm for war; it is animated only by hatred of war.
-All these brave men, riddled like sieves, rescued from an ordeal without
-precedent, are cherishing no ambition to march in a procession of
-victors, under waving flags, amid the acclamations of women, children,
-and old men; they had the rudimentary purpose of the peasant who
-struggles with a mad dog, and who having downed him digs a hole, buries
-the carrion, washes his hands at the pump, and goes in to dinner.
-
-"Germany has robbed man of his divine childhood. In less than two years
-all these men have grown old; that charming faculty of innocent
-enthusiasm which had often deceived him, but which had given him joys
-never to be replaced, has been withered. The most deplorable ruins which
-the monster has spread abroad over our land are perhaps not so much the
-splendid monuments of Belgium and France, as the youth of humanity, that
-had seemed eternal, that was bearing it on to a great outburst of a
-common hope--faith in Fraternity, faith in Liberty, faith in Justice,
-potent religion of Progress. Cold reason, like the German gas, has
-poisoned all this fresh and ebullient vigor. The whole world has become
-allied, only to strangle a jackal. No man who has come back from the too
-severe ordeal will ever again feel the desire to enjoy the days that yet
-remain to him. Scepticism, which used to seem only a way of looking at
-things, cherished by very distinguished gentlemen, has now taken
-possession of the mass. But it has become commonplace, and so has ceased
-all relations with its brother, dilettantism. You will see what sort of
-thing realistic scepticism will become."
-
-"People will always dream," said Odette.
-
-
-
-
-XVII
-
-
-Odette returned to Surville in the beginning of August. It was a time of
-great heat. The second anniversary of mobilization had been observed.
-War had become an accepted condition. Many already found it difficult to
-remember a state of peace. At the hospital there were even discussions
-as to how things had been there before the war. There were those who,
-though they had then been living in Surville, could not recall them to
-mind. "You remember the inaugural address of the head doctor, the 16th
-of August, before the first train of wounded came?" Some of the women
-insisted that he had given an antimilitarist lecture; others that he had
-spoken only against alcohol; others that he had given an eloquently
-patriotic address; some said that it was not he who had spoken, but the
-surgeon, a very handsome man; and still others that the address was
-given on another date. One lady could only remember the first time she
-had posed to the photographer in white blouse and cap. The first arrival
-of wounded, who had come from Charleroi on August 25, were confused with
-those who had come in September. Two years! What a long time when one
-has seen only wretchedness upon wretchedness! Nothing pleasant for
-twenty-four months! The communiqué of the battle of the Marne? Yes,
-that counted for something; but at the time no one understood its full
-importance; there had been no public rejoicing. Our later long and
-magnificent victories that merely held back the enemy presented to the
-mind nothing like what is generally thought of as military success; it
-was only after a while that their importance was recognized, when new
-misfortunes had touched us elsewhere. Two years of dull, black
-weariness, of constant apprehension, of bereavement upon bereavement.
-
-This year a good many foreigners had invaded the beach. The
-tennis-courts were occupied by young men from beyond the sea, bringing
-up the memory of former days; the crowd was enlivened by a profusion of
-multicolored Japanese lanterns; the sea dashed against the glossy flesh
-of women who seemed as natural as Aphrodite; automobiles were almost as
-much in the way as in happier days; and between the rows of tents among
-the manifold tints of colored stuffs, beside the waves where so many
-beautiful limbs were disporting themselves, was a race of beings that
-might have been deemed peculiar, coming, going, or remaining motionless;
-they were the men who had escaped from the fire. They wore nondescript
-garments, they lacked one limb or even two, they hobbled, their armpits
-strained by crutches, or lay at length on the warm sand, smoking, timid
-of appearance, exchanging remarks hardly comprehensible, keeping silent,
-too, thinking--of what?
-
-This last spectacle alone seemed in Odette's eyes to merit
-consideration. She had lived the greater part of the time among the
-wounded, she had also lived in Paris with the social world. "All is
-over," she would say to herself; "nothing will heal all this; it is mere
-mummery to ape the life of other days; all that is blotted out; La
-Villaumer was right when he said: 'Men have suffered too much.'"
-
-It was in this very place--there, opposite, at the hotel--that she had
-become acquainted with Jean. They were pleased with one another at the
-first glance, carried out of themselves, even. She remembered how mad
-with love she had been in those garden walks, between those
-tennis-screens, on that beach, and along that terrace which now she was
-treading overwhelmed with despair, a despair that she could not name,
-greater than herself, greater than the broad horizon of the sea, greater
-than all things.
-
-She had forgotten nothing. She recalled all the preludes of marriage,
-then those first vacations, their dual solitude in the midst of the
-throng; kisses exchanged on these dunes, along these roadsides, in some
-charming farm orchard, or on certain evenings before the fairylike
-spectacle of the phosphorescent sea; she remembered that room in the
-Hôtel de Normandie where he had left her a few days before the 2d of
-August! And she recalled to mind the beautiful sky of that day, and the
-tocsin pealing from all the church-towers of the countryside, and the
-rolling of the drum, and the young men raising their hats. How many of
-them were alive to-day?
-
-
-
-
-XVIII
-
-
-She had hardly finished luncheon when she heard the jingling of the
-little bell at the wooden gate of her garden. Mme. de Calouas came in.
-
-Mme. de Calouas found Odette surrounded by photographs of Jean. They
-were on the walls, the chimneypiece, the tables, the desk, the piano.
-Odette had taken the opportunity of her journey to carry to the
-photographer every film that she possessed; she had had them enlarged,
-and she was surrounded by Jean as if Jean had become a whole people; she
-saw him in every room of her cottage and in all places; she felt
-somewhat tranquil only when she could see him. If she seldom or never
-spoke of him elsewhere, as soon as she returned home she belonged only
-to him. She talked to him, consulted him, and heard the replies which,
-in accordance with his character, he would have made her to-day, if he
-had lived, if he had known what was taking place.
-
-Mme. de Calouas looked about her at all these likenesses.
-
-Mme. de Calouas was not among the number of hospital nurses who had been
-rewarded by the epidemic medal, although she had not absented herself
-for forty-eight hours since the outbreak of the war, and though her
-position in the hospital was a most important one; but neglect of this
-sort was either indifferent to her or it flattered her pride. She
-belonged to a family of which every member professed absolute
-indifference to rewards, especially to any that might come from the
-public powers, and this although it was the tradition of the family to
-addict themselves constantly to the highest duties. The magistrates
-among them had retired some thirty-five years previously; the officers
-remained fixed in the rank of captain. In the Morbihan the expression
-"the Captains de Calouas" had become a common locution. At the outbreak
-of the war "the Captains de Calouas" had shown themselves to be men of
-the old-fashioned kind who considered that the finest part one can play
-in the face of the enemy is to be killed by him. Their unanimous and
-hardy bravery had, indeed, crowned nearly every one of them with the
-halo of sacrifice. Those with whom death would have absolutely nothing
-to do had this time risen in rank, and had received the cross after a
-succession of actions and for exceptional valor even amidst so many
-astonishing deeds. Of seven of them, only one was left, recently named
-lieutenant-colonel, with an artificial arm and a damaged lung.
-
-Mme. de Calouas excused herself for coming so early, but said that she
-had felt an irresistible desire to talk freely with a friend in whom she
-had discerned "a choice soul."
-
-"In the sort of convent in which we lived so long side by side," she
-said, "I consider myself somewhat as a mother to you, if you will permit
-me to say so, seeing that I had the responsibility of opening its door
-to you. Will you let me talk to you as a mother?"
-
-"I have great need of it," said Odette;
-
-"I have no mother, and I am a widow----"
-
-She pointed around to the photographs of the dead. It was as if she were
-in a cemetery, herself living in one of its vaults. Her eyes filled with
-sudden tears.
-
-"I love him as on the day he died; as on that other day, that dreadful
-day when he left me--I cannot cry all this upon the housetops. You,
-madame, have suffered like me, more even than me, the pain of this
-horrible war; we can no longer speak of our dead! We have no right to
-show our grief! There are too many griefs, too many dead. I have never
-been able to talk about him; I have found only one person who would
-consent to recall him with kindliness, and she is a Parisian, a
-self-centred woman who has managed not to permit herself to be touched
-by the war, a young woman, like me, but already a woman of former days.
-Who is there, henceforth, who can dwell on her personal sorrow?"
-
-"It remains to be seen, my poor dear," said Mme. de Calouas, "whether
-what you say is an evil. I mean an evil for the time in which we live,
-during this war which has no end, and during the many years after this
-war; in a word, during all our lives--even yours. You know, my child,
-that I am a woman bound to all the old customs. In our family widowhood
-is a serious thing, and usually a thing for life. But this war has
-modified even our most firmly established customs. Great necessities,
-painful new duties, lie before us. We have been obliged to put down,
-with a strong hand, many of our feelings; we are bound to subordinate
-our personality and its most sacred traditions to the common weal. To
-mourn a beloved husband--what is more touching and more worthy in a
-young woman? But, my little friend, let me confide to you a cruel truth,
-of which you are already beginning to be aware. You were just saying to
-me that we can no longer talk about our dead husbands, however
-gloriously they may have been killed; it is equally the case of both of
-us. Well, forgive me for what I am going to say--it is one of the most
-cruel features of this time that has no name--to mourn our husbands is a
-sort of self-indulgence, it is a personal civility, it is almost a
-delight! I shall startle you, but I must say it to you, I who am twenty
-years older than you, because I recognize in you a noble heart,
-broadened rather than belittled by this storm. My poor child, you have
-no right to remain surrounded by these likenesses of the dead. If we
-belonged to ourselves, we would give ourselves up to what our hearts
-would prefer--weak, human creatures that we are! We would choose to
-remember and to mourn. But we are no longer our own! Let us imitate our
-husbands! They would certainly have preferred to live. To assert the
-contrary is mere boasting. But without hesitating they accepted death.
-They understood, every one of them, that they were not their own. Nor
-are we our own. I give you my word of honor--and you can never imagine
-the object of reverence or the cause of joy that for twenty years my
-husband was to me--if I were still young enough to have children I would
-marry again to-morrow! I am too old, and this is why you see me take so
-much pains in other directions. What the country asks of you is not work
-like what I am doing----"
-
-"I prefer that work," said Odette.
-
-"You are not your own."
-
-"What the world asks of me is worse than death."
-
-"Our husbands endured the sufferings of hell, and died only
-afterward----"
-
-Odette burst into sobs.
-
-"My child, my dear little friend," said Mme. de Calouas, "I beg you not
-to give way to despondency of any sort. Believe what I say, and do not
-think me hard, as I may appear to be. I am not hard. I have simply
-covered myself with a shell, because we are engaged in a merciless
-conflict. Let us not permit ourselves to be weakened whether by
-catastrophe or painful loss or bitter trial. To give way to grief is to
-grow less strong. For the time, we can be sure only of suffering. Each
-grief should give us the opportunity not to weep, but to do more than
-before. There is only one aim. How that simplifies things! We look
-toward it, and toward it alone. We direct our eyes neither to the right
-nor the left. Anything may happen: we are ready, we will not fail. We
-may be asked for more than is in reason, but we have offered our
-services. No hesitation, no boasting; above all, no consideration of
-ourselves; let us leave all that to women of petty minds, since it is
-the only motive that can move them. We who know better must set them an
-example."
-
-
-
-
-XIX
-
-
-Odette went to her room to bathe her eyes, but it was all in vain; she
-began again to weep; she had an invincible desire for tears; she wept
-until the hour for going to the hospital.
-
-She had photographs of Jean in her bed-room as in her drawing-room. And
-now it seemed to her that to give way to her grief was, indeed, "a
-delight"! She was in the habit of giving herself up to sorrow; who would
-have believed that it was a way of giving herself up to pleasure? Yet in
-comparison with the excessive sadness of the present time, to wrap
-herself up, weeping, in the memory of happy days, was to set herself
-apart, to abstract herself in herself, to intoxicate herself with the
-fragrance of the incense on her own private altar, to divest herself of
-strength for the great common act which it had given her so much pain to
-accept, but the imperious command of which she could not now deny.
-
-"It is still a pleasure," she repeated to herself. What chaos must have
-been wrought that her most acute sufferings, recalled to her by
-imagination, should take on the form of felicity!
-
-Mme. de Calouas had affirmed that, for her part, had she fewer years,
-she would not hesitate to marry again!--Ah, no, that was too much!
-Anything, anything, but that! "'They endured the pains of hell, and did
-not die until afterward?' Yes, their martyrdom, their death, I would
-gladly accept for myself; but I refuse to be false to my adored
-memories----"
-
-Another burst of grief overwhelmed her in which her whole tortured
-personality resisted and asserted itself. She seized Jean's photographs
-and kissed them frantically. She would fain detest all the rest of the
-world and give herself wholly to this one sacred memory. For the moment
-she spurned the opinion of Mme. de Calouas: "If it is a self-indulgence,
-let it be so! I yield myself to this self-indulgence! I love Jean, I
-have never loved any one but Jean!"
-
-In the old days she used to bicycle with Jean, and the two, side by
-side, often exchanging glances, sometimes throwing kisses, would roll
-breathlessly along the Norman roads, between the high, thick hedges
-where they were as if enclosed, with only one way out, where they had
-nothing to do but roll along. An auto would appear; Jean would go first,
-Odette following in his track, breathing his perfume until the cloud of
-dust and the smell of oil or of gasolene choked her. Sometimes, going
-slowly, they would take one another by the hand. She was flexible,
-slight, and lightly clothed; she would play acrobatic tricks on her
-machine, and her joyful agility would fill Jean with delight. Suddenly
-he would jump down, she would follow his example, and they would
-exchange a kiss, folded lingeringly in one another's arms. There was a
-little wayside inn where, under the arbor, they would call for cider
-with bread and white cheese. They had never met any one there; the wind
-would ruffle the foliage around them, the dog would gaze at them with a
-twinkle in his eye, the hostess would serve them with a smile. More
-often than elsewhere they used to go to the orchard, the incomparable
-orchard of the farm at the foot of the ruins of Saint-Gingolph, where
-they were welcomed as friends, both so young, so beautiful, so radiant
-with happiness. There in the autumn they would walk in the little paths
-bordered with sorrel and thyme; where dahlias were growing beside
-onions, where there were currant-bushes loaded with rubies, in a corner
-a fig-tree whose fruit never ripened, under which they must bend to go
-to the pear-trees. There Odette would bite into a pear as she passed it,
-and this would make Jean scold; he would gather the pear, nibble at the
-place which her teeth had damaged, and carry it to the good-natured
-farmer's wife, saying: "Just see what mischief we have done!"
-
-"Oh!" the farmer's wife would simply reply, "Madame seems to enjoy it
-so!"
-
-Delicious and terrible memories! Odette could not endure again to visit
-those places, so near, yet which would now have given her so much pain!
-
-Nor could she again go in the evening, at nightfall, to the edge of the
-sea, where in each vague shadow she would have thought she saw the
-shadow of Jean. They used to love to wander there in the warm obscurity
-of August. The long-drawn moan of the sea was to them a cradle-song
-composed by a musician of genius. No doubt Odette used to see in those
-days fewer large waves than to-day; but in those days all things blended
-with her love and seemed marvellous to her. Sometimes Jean, who had his
-boyish ways, would amuse himself by leaving her, suddenly disappearing
-from her eyes in the darkness. She would call him in an anxious voice,
-"Jean!" And she would always recognize his shadow as he drew near by his
-extending his arms in the form of a cross, and throwing them around her,
-to press her to him the moment he met her. In those days they would hear
-afar off the music of the violins, and would see above the dune the dark
-villas and the illuminated hotels. Now she knew that in those hotels
-were lying a thousand men swathed in bandages, poisoned by pus and
-gangrene, and the sea was holding up a long chaplet of buoys from which
-were hanging nets to ward off submarines. How could she go back there?
-
-The summer wore away in a manner almost satisfactory, and with great
-hopes in the military operations. A wave of optimism passed over the
-country. Rumanian colors were floated from the town-hall; the battle of
-the Somme had freed Verdun and was itself beginning to slacken. In the
-beginning of October the wounded in the hospital were almost few.
-Odette, with too little to do, reduced to solitude, began to droop. She
-found the conversation of Mme. de Calouas very fine, but it did not
-touch her. Why not?
-
-She would have her lay aside her mourning--the two years being now a
-long month over past. Other widows had almost joyfully put off their
-crape in the late summer heat. Odette considered it a profanation. "Time
-was passing." No doubt it was. It was long--without measure long. But to
-her Jean had died yesterday, nothing in her feelings had been changed by
-what she had seen. She thought of all those bodily wounds which she had
-dressed with her own hands, and which had healed. The great wound within
-herself remained open. At times she would forget the war, the sorrows of
-which at other times would crush her, and think only of the beloved
-being to whom she was bound for eternity.
-
-One afternoon she dragged herself, on foot and alone, along the road to
-Saint-Gingolph, between the brook, the fields, and the hillock that
-separates two valleys. The weather was fine, underfoot were leaves of
-plane-trees, some decaying, others rolling along the ground, driven by
-the autumn wind. She had not the courage to go to the farm; the orchard
-came down to the roadside. She sat down upon the grass of the ditch and
-reflected that this was the third autumn that she had been there, since
-the war! She recalled to mind the first one, when people were beginning
-to find the hostilities very long; when every evening, passing by the
-post-office, one hoped to read the news of some event which would bring
-about its sudden end. She thought of the little soldiers whom she used
-to follow to the cemetery, and of whom every one insisted upon thinking:
-"He is the last one!"
-
-Before her, on the crest of the hillock, like a fantastic screen whose
-edge has been clumsily cut by a child, a long avenue of very ancient
-elms broke in upon the view. They bore scattered clusters of foliage,
-still golden; a dense cloud of crows rose up and lighted with sinister
-croakings upon their ragged tops. These birds with their lugubrious
-cries seemed about to give battle for the possession of a notable
-charnel-house. And suddenly they plunged into the branches and
-disappeared, and nothing remained of them but the wound inflicted by the
-rasping voices upon the motionless air. Then the black cloud uprose
-again, as if the avenue of old elms, mown down at the roots by shells,
-had upheaved itself before its final downfall. It seemed as if the heart
-of the hillock were painfully throbbing. The raucous croaking of these
-thousands of birds grated upon her nerves and aroused all her powers of
-mournful revery.
-
-Odette resumed her walk back to the town. Evening was falling. Lush
-meadows along the brookside, a gray steeple almost hidden in foliage of
-rose ochre, the racecourse--relic of a brilliant worldliness--two or
-three pretty villas, whose reddening hopvines were flaunting themselves
-derisively before closed windows, reminded her too painfully of a past
-era--a lost paradise. Among the persons whom she met, already half
-hidden in the shadow, some were laughing. Then people could laugh? Why,
-yes! Life, diverse as it is, has ever its source in the waters of a
-Fountain of Youth.
-
-The darkness and the croakings of the crows haunted her. When she
-reached the cottage she threw herself upon a divan, and remained there,
-overcome, until Amelia came to call her to her solitary dinner.
-
-The evening mail brought her tidings of the death of the last de Blauve
-boy, who had voluntarily gone to the firing-line in advance of those of
-his age, and had been killed outright in the very hour when he first set
-foot in the trench. Almost mechanically, and as a daily duty, she read
-two newspapers, line by line. She seemed to feel a great inward
-emptiness; she felt herself going to pieces. She must make a change, at
-whatever cost. There was just now no necessity for her presence in the
-hospital. She resolved to return to Paris, without other reason than the
-impossibility of remaining in Surville. How many feverish changes she
-had made, since the beginning of this war, with no more serious motive
-than this!
-
-
-
-
-XX
-
-
-Arrived in Paris, she went at once to see Mme. de Blauve. This woman,
-who had lost a much-loved husband and two sons hardly old enough to be
-soldiers, was not weeping, was not feeling dull, had no hard words to
-say about the war. She gave full evidence of tenderness toward her
-family, but, above all, she knew how to live, and that, in a time of
-war, means total forgetfulness of self and of all whom one loves. She
-was not sending her daughters into the hospitals, where they were not
-needed; she had herself given up her work as nurse, in order to give
-special attention to preparing them for marriage.
-
-"Marriage is the civic duty of women," she said; "at sixteen and a half
-one can very well have a child. Marriage is a difficult matter in a time
-like this, but I am willing to pay the price!" She was thinking only of
-this, the oldest girl having passed her fifteenth year.
-
-To Odette, Mme. de Blauve was another Mme. de Calouas in Paris. She felt
-at ease with neither of them, and yet both of them attracted her
-inexplicably. She felt herself at a distance from them while yet being
-influenced by them, to a degree that surprised some indefinable part of
-herself. Both of them shocked her, wounded her, even; she was appalled
-before their stoicism. She looked at them darkly, almost malevolently,
-when they seemed to gaze with reprobation upon the mourning garments
-which she persisted in wearing. These women, brought up to worship the
-dead, uprose like spectres from the depths of the past which was their
-element, and uttered a word unfamiliar to their lips: "Forward!" The
-impression was most disturbing.
-
-Not that she envied them, under the pretext that both appeared to have
-adjusted themselves to the sorrows of the time. Odette had no desire
-thus to adjust herself. On the contrary, she implored to be left alone,
-to bury herself in unending grief. And yet she felt a secret sympathy
-with these unavowed foes of the perpetuation of her love.
-
-
-
-
-XXI
-
-
-Crossing the Champs-Elysées on her homeward way, Odette met two groups
-of blinded soldiers, each one led by a woman who helped him to pass from
-refuge to refuge. A blinded soldier invariably caused Odette to shudder
-with dismay. Of all the wounded by the war, such as he most painfully
-touched her sympathies. She stood on the first refuge as if petrified,
-gazing at these men led by the hand by young women, a third clinging to
-his comrade's coat, groping in the air with a timid arm.
-
-In the face of distress like this, coachmen and chauffeurs, however much
-in haste, stopped short as before a funeral procession, which all Paris
-respects. The double stream of circulation was arrested in both
-directions recalling pictures of the waters of the Red Sea. The crowded
-foot-passengers formed a rampart with their bodies. No one saluted, for
-that is not the custom, but the seriousness of all faces spoke of the
-impulse, almost the need, thus to act. Veneration, such as has never
-before been seen on French faces, was stamped upon the features of men
-and women, even of children. That which was taking place was almost
-nothing, simply a group of soldiers whose organs of sight had been
-destroyed, with charitable women serving them as guides. For two minutes
-they interrupted the movement of the Champs-Elysées. Yet it was a moral
-influence, an unrecognized, unclassified power, poor and even lamentable
-of aspect, which had suddenly arrested the prosperous physical movement
-of a great city. Odette felt her heart throb; her eyes were so blurred
-that as she reached the sidewalk she almost failed to recognize her
-friend La Villaumer, who was standing there, gazing at that simple,
-pathetic transit.
-
-After the first greeting he said to Odette:
-
-"I have often imagined Jesus returning among us; I thought just now that
-I saw him at the head of that group, motioning with his gentle hand to
-the crowd of busy mortals, 'Pause, travellers!' He had come back as the
-God of justice and of love, just when the demon was making his most
-determined attack upon his beloved, just when each one of us is obliged
-to look into the inmost recesses of his heart and ask himself: 'What is
-going to be left?' And he was replying to us, 'Verily, I say unto you,
-henceforth cherish, all of you, a concern for human distress.' I
-thought, too, that I heard him whisper--pardon the blasphemy if it
-shocks you!--I heard him whisper softly: 'My sufferings have been
-surpassed; the sufferings of my martyrs have been surpassed.'"
-
-"Oh!"
-
-"Yes, they and he, while suffering, had the assurance of entering the
-Kingdom of God, and that within a relatively short time. The majority of
-these poor fellows are without that assurance; many of them are without
-hope, and their martyrdom has already lasted for twenty-eight months!
-They are about to endure a third winter, and some of them will last for
-a fourth! And who knows? From all this will be born into the world, my
-friend, a 'religion of mankind.' It is not simply the human blood shed,
-it is the indefinitely prolonged torture of men, millions and millions
-of men, which will create a new mystic element upon which the religions
-of the future will draw. It is a dangerous vision; the salvation of
-humanity lies at the present time in nothing that in the least resembles
-humanitarianism.
-
-"But I have something to tell you, my friend; Misson, the husband of our
-good Rose, whom we have so often ridiculed because he stuck to his
-automobile-- Well, he has been killed, the good fellow, blown to pieces
-by the bursting of a shell, as he was driving some officers----"
-
-"Oh, my dear Rose! I must hasten to her!"
-
-"Do not go yet. It happened on the road to Rheims. She has obtained
-leave to go for his body-- Do you know what Mme. Leconque said, when she
-learned that Misson's body had been blown to fragments by a bursting
-shell? She said: 'In his auto?--What a stupid death!' The death that one
-receives in an automobile, you see, is not noble. It was, we now learn,
-the one-hundred-and-fourth time that a shell has fallen within less than
-thirty metres of his machine, and the ninth machine that has been struck
-in the course of his journeys. He will forever be unrecognized."
-
-Odette could not refrain from wiping her eyes.
-
-La Villaumer, who lost nothing of her actions, said to her:
-
-"You are weeping for another sorrow than your own?"
-
-"Is that what you think?" asked Odette; "it is still my sorrow; it is he
-who makes me more alive to the sorrows of others."
-
-"Yes, but from the moment when you can thus weep for others your own
-grief becomes more tolerable."
-
-"I would not wish to suffer less."
-
-"You are not suffering less; there is room in your heart for a still
-greater sorrow."
-
-"You always make me afraid when you say that."
-
-"Odette, you must not be afraid of anything."
-
-As they went up the avenue La Villaumer went on:
-
-"I remember, last spring, regretting in your presence the marvellous
-aspect of the Champs-Elysées in the days of prosperity. And yet not one
-of those beautiful old days ever aroused in me so much feeling as the
-crossing over of those ten war-blinded soldiers. I do not cease to
-regret the time when these poor young fellows enjoyed the light; but I
-am asking myself by what mystery the greatest suffering uplifts us above
-the greatest pleasure. I even believe that the stimulus of the greatest
-pleasure is short-lived and degenerates rapidly, while the other lasts
-long and is endlessly purified."
-
-"You are being converted, La Villaumer!"
-
-"You know that there is no more convinced sceptic than I, and you know
-my predilection for the simple life, frank, wholesome, normally
-developing; one may say, happy in the pagan manner. But this mode of
-life does not exhaust life, though I believe it to conform most
-perfectly to the destiny of man. Life has acquired other dispositions,
-other tendencies. And this does not prevent asceticism, for instance,
-attractive as it is, from having at its base an incontestable
-psychological truth. In the present state of civilization we are not
-permitted to allow inconsistencies of which nevertheless the world is
-composed. If you so much as mention two contradictory propositions you
-are accused of instability, if not of dishonesty. Each of us remains
-shut up in his little, partial, incomplete truth; that is why the human
-race seems to one inconsequential and sometimes stupid."
-
-"Come, explain yourself a little; how, for example, can one at the same
-time love pleasure and that which forbids it?"
-
-"The problem does appear to be insoluble; but observe that there are
-none like the greatly self-indulgent to recognize the importance of an
-event which consists in renouncing all pleasure. It is those who most
-intensely enjoy the exquisite things of life who are thrilled to their
-inmost souls at the sight of a voluntary death. I have been present, as
-a relative, or as a mere onlooker, at more than one taking of the veil.
-Think what the taking of the veil must be to a beautiful young girl!
-Well, fathers excepted, I have never seen tears in the eyes of men
-professing the same faith as the novice, but I have seen robust artists
-almost faint at the sight. They were wholly indifferent to the person
-who was thus leaving the world, but they adored beauty and love. They
-believed in nothing else than beauty and love, and they were the only
-ones in the company to be overwhelmed by the power of the motive that
-can tear a human being away from the attraction of such a magnet. These
-unbelievers, these intruders in the temple, experienced such a shock
-that they came nearer to fervent adherence to a God to them unknown than
-the men of tranquil faith, who looked upon the ceremony as something
-usual and in conformity with the order of things. Ardent converts are
-not recruited from among the friends of religion, but from among its
-declared enemies or those totally ignorant of it."
-
-
-
-
-XXII
-
-
-Odette must leave a card with a word of sympathy at the door of the
-bereaved Rose, and see her, stand by her, try, however vainly, to
-console her.
-
-Fortunately Simone overpowered both Rose and Odette with her chatter.
-She was as well-informed, as in the time of peace, of everything that
-went on in private life. Mathilde Aviron--another Germaine Le Gault--was
-in love with a deputy.
-
-"But," said Odette, "she lost her husband only four weeks after me."
-
-"That is two years and two months ago, my dear!"
-
-"That is true."
-
-"It all depends on circumstances. They are going to be married, it
-appears.--And that poor Ogivier is slowly wasting away, in solitary
-misery, because his wife believes herself called to be heroic in the
-hospitals! Opinions differ; some say: 'She is doing right. What would
-you have? Ogivier is fifty-five years old; he is useless----'"
-
-"But after all, he is her husband. Are her services indispensable in the
-hospitals?"
-
-"No one is indispensable, every one says."
-
-"Well, then?"
-
-"Well, then, it is war. Some forget their duties, others don't know
-where they are. Mme. de Gaspari is absolutely bent upon making shells.
-She used to shed perfume at fifteen paces; she had her hair waved by X.,
-and the beautiful hands that you remember--Some one has given her a
-chance in a factory! And how many things are happening that no one talks
-about! There are husbands who were in love with their wives, and who
-after the wives have been doing service in the hospitals, no longer feel
-the same toward them. It is not their fault! I know some who did not in
-the least object to it; but love is what it can be; many love in their
-wives only an illusion pleasing to themselves, such, for example, as
-that a wife should come physically near only to her husband. When their
-wives come back after having spent whole days--perhaps nights--in those
-hospital rooms--what would you hear? Every one cannot get over a painful
-impression simply by the aid of reason."
-
-"And what about the girls who do the same?"
-
-"Yes, it is evident that men will have to accept new ideas."
-
-"Say, that unlucky Gendron has had an attack."
-
-"What, at his age?"
-
-"Yes, he is still young; and he was so healthy! He was by no means a
-useless man. Here he is cut down; he cannot endure the idea of the war.
-War perhaps seems worse to him at a distance than if he were in the
-trenches. 'My head is splitting; it seems as if a petard had been fired
-into my ear. I would rather explode than watch for it.'"
-
-"He is a singular man."
-
-"He didn't 'explode' as he said. He is 'watching for it' with his mouth
-drawn to one side and an arm and a leg paralyzed--his intellect intact.
-People's lots are different. We see all sorts."
-
-"There are unfortunate people; here and there are some who, whether they
-will or no, find the war turning to their advantage; and then there are
-many who really do not know what they are going through; they are as if
-possessed."
-
-"What do you think of La Villaumer?" asked Simone.
-
-"I hope that you don't propose to have him exorcised," said Odette.
-
-"No, but has he told you that he is trying to sell all his property, his
-collections, his books? He wants to realize on all that he owns, and
-give it for the war."
-
-"He is very much touched by it."
-
-"But, my dear friends, who is there who is not?"
-
-"Mme. de Boulainvilliers has distributed her entire fortune among war
-works; she has mortgaged her house to enable her to support an auxiliary
-hospital which she has opened in it; she is already begging right and
-left. She will come to be a charge upon the public charities. All her
-sons have been killed; but her relatives are furious."
-
-"Little do I care about relatives," said Odette; "she is doing a good
-thing, and all the more because every one knows that she isn't in the
-least pretentious. 'There is no great merit in what I am doing,' the old
-lady says modestly. 'Why, I shall soon be seventy years old; if I do not
-take care of my wounded the state will have to do it, and that would
-impair the fortune of my relatives as well as of everybody else.' But
-she does not say everything that she thinks. What she thinks is much
-simpler than that; she enjoys, above all things, making little creams
-for her soldiers. 'But for my hospital,' she says, 'they wouldn't get
-any!'"
-
-"Have you heard of Clotilde's adventure?" asked Simone.
-
-"My goodness! has Clotilde too been touched by the war?"
-
-"Oh, in the most unexpected way. You know that she vowed to keep the war
-away from her. Her husband is at General Headquarters; when she sees him
-she forbids him to speak about the war. But Avvogade had a friend of his
-childhood, a school comrade--a man whom one never met at their house in
-the old days--a modest employee in a Trust Company, but a tall,
-well-made fellow. The poor fellow lost his sight as the result of
-trepanning. His condition produced a great effect upon Avvogade;
-Avvogade suddenly felt all the old friendship for his comrade revive; he
-goes to him as often as he can, takes him out to walk, brings him home
-to lunch. Clotilde dares not object, but she is simply aghast. The
-mutilated man's conversation does not interest her and the sight of him
-horrifies her. 'We don't talk about the war,' says her husband. 'I am
-not breaking our agreement.' They don't talk about the war, but this man
-with his closed eyes embodies the war to her, and thus the war has
-entered her house. And no one has anything to say to her but: 'You can't
-escape it, my dear.' If Clotilde was not such a dear every one would
-laugh, for, after all, her trouble is not a great one and there is
-something absurd in the adventure."
-
-
-
-
-XXIII
-
-
-As she went about among her friends Odette perceived that she was
-regarded in Paris as one of the women who during the war was sacrificing
-herself for the public good. One must have a "war" reputation at all
-costs. No one said a word as to her conduct as a widow, or as to her
-moral ideas. But because she had been absent and was known to have been
-for a long time a hospital nurse, every one ascribed to her that spirit
-of self-abnegation which gives reason to expect all things from certain
-exceptional persons, born for sublimities. The compliments that she
-received were not ironical. Her profound and unalterable grief for her
-husband's death, the very discretion which she observed in making no
-lamentation before her friends, were not lost upon them. Odette, sad and
-silent, enjoyed what might be called "a good press." The praises
-bestowed upon her simply transformed into extraordinary virtue what was
-only natural to her. At first she found it stupid; then it disturbed
-her.
-
-"But what am I, after all?" she would ask.
-
-"You are an exquisite woman! Your conduct is admirable!"
-
-And every one present would acquiesce. It was in a drawing-room which
-might have been supposed to be the seat of the War Committee, where were
-young women, women on the further verge of youth, poetesses, princesses;
-through which passed generals, convalescent heroes, ministers, men of
-all shades of politics, literary celebrities, and the sad relics of
-before-the-war æstheticism. The secrets of military operations were
-known there, whether carried out or simply planned, the underside of
-diplomacy, future declarations of war, historic nights, scandals unknown
-to the public. News was handed about, discredited, misconstrued, torn to
-pieces. An apparition from another world, like Odette, felt herself
-facing all Europe in arms, or some world-congress; rising from the
-modest tomb in which she had been living she was dazzled, her head was
-turned with it all. She rose to return to her solitude.
-
-On the staircase she met La Villaumer, his smile scornful at the thought
-of the foolishness which he was about to hear.
-
-"What do they expect of me?" she asked. "Imagine, there are those
-up-stairs who were ready to swear that I, all by myself, directed the
-battle of the Somme!"
-
-"Not at all," he replied. "It is simply that you are a very worthy
-woman; you honor the house."
-
-"All very well! But they frighten me. They seem to be expecting
-something of me----"
-
-"That you will do the house still greater honor! Receptions of this sort
-would fain be taken as pictures of the country, in the small."
-
-"Tell me about yourself, La Villaumer; how much truth is there in what
-they tell me--that you are going to distribute all your property and
-live in a garret?"
-
-"Oh, it is a naturally erroneous paraphrase of an expression of which,
-like you, like many others, I have often made use. I have said: 'I no
-longer count. None of us any longer counts.' Which means: 'Whatever our
-value may formerly have been, the common cause is too grand for us to
-indulge in the fatuity of putting a value upon ourselves. Whoever we may
-be, we are reduced to nothingness by something superior to ourselves.'
-It is a rather stern assertion, and just because it is so it sets
-imaginations to work. Our amiable gossips immediately translate it into
-a child's picture, impressive by its crude coloring, in which they see
-me shivering on a pallet."
-
-"And the story of Mme. de Boulainvilliers?"
-
-"So they have told you the story of Mme. de Boulainvilliers as well?
-She is a truly generous woman, but not an imprudent one. She so well
-knows what a snare there is for her in the pleasure of coddling her
-hundred and twenty soldiers, that, having no direct heirs, she has put a
-part of her property into an annuity, in order to become a charge upon
-no one as long as she may live. All the rest she gives away. She detests
-her relations and delights in frustrating them. No one would talk about
-her, perhaps, if it were not for the cream of the end of the story, a
-little detail which happens to be true, and which does good."
-
-"Let us have done with our good women and our special cases. But you,
-yourself, what do you think, on the whole, of sacrifice?"
-
-"The general opinion is that men are without exception ruled by base
-personal interests; but this view only takes into consideration the calm
-level of the human ocean; in reality it has its tempests, which are the
-passions, and man in a state of passion no longer thinks of his
-interests. In the depths of my soul I believe that sacrifice may very
-well cause the greatest happiness."
-
-
-
-
-XXIV
-
-
-Some little time later Odette went to see Clotilde. It was early in a
-mortally cold winter; for two months already cold weather had raged,
-bitter and uninterrupted. The question of fuel was beginning to be
-serious; there were rumors of restrictions in many things. Paris was
-uneasy, though the newspapers, with their miracle-working ink, turned
-adversity into beauty.
-
-Odette found Clotilde in her usual atmosphere, a happy accident having
-permitted her apartment to be warmed. She was surrounded by books and
-flowers, and wore a robe of some silken fabric which moulded itself to
-her sinuous form. She at once exclaimed:
-
-"Do you notice anything changed here?"
-
-"Not you, certainly!"
-
-"I have had the rooms done over; how do you like this gray?"
-
-"It's lovely! With the cherry color of the curtains it is really
-perfect."
-
-"Ah! I was sure that you would think so! The others go through the rooms
-as if they were daft; they don't notice anything."
-
-"You have a new photograph of your husband. It is wonderfully good."
-
-"Doesn't he grow handsome? And yet the dear fellow is overworking. It
-isn't a sinecure, I assure you, his position at General Headquarters!
-But I feel sure that I amuse him; I divert him from his worries. Without
-flattering myself I please him, these days. And I love him, Oh, how I
-love him!"
-
-"You are two lucky people."
-
-"Forgive me, dear Odette, I am almost ashamed to dwell upon my happiness
-before you. But you are the only person who understands; you, who have
-truly loved."
-
-"Who love still, Clotilde."
-
-Clotilde opened her eyes wide, thinking that she had not heard aright.
-She knew what love was, surely, but it was difficult for her to admit
-that after two years and a half one could love a dead man, as she loved
-her strong and handsome husband. Yet she certainly could entertain no
-suspicion concerning Odette, and she at once resolved to make the most
-of her friend's enduring sentiments to talk to her about her own
-personal love. She overwhelmed her with it as with a flood. Her love had
-reached an intensity which it had never known in times of peace. The
-seclusion which she had chosen in order to avoid hearing any talk of war
-had built around her an ivory tower; and no longer meeting any one but
-her husband, her pleasures ministered to only by him, she had found him
-taking a place of unusual importance in her life; in himself he embodied
-all the delights of which the war had deprived her, and which she had
-learned to forget.
-
-Odette herself began to speak of love. The subject was painful to her,
-and yet she enjoyed it. Clotilde was the only creature with whom, since
-the war, she had been able to converse on the subject without
-diffidence. Letting herself go along the lines of her memories and her
-habitual reveries, she began to taste the joy of a prisoner shut up in
-a dark cell, who finds an opportunity to mention the brook that flows
-through the sun-bathed field below his father's house.
-
-"After all," she concluded, "the things that we have been saying, if
-they could be noted down, would interest the world more, fifty or a
-hundred years hence, than all the terrible events that are taking
-place."
-
-Clotilde would hear nothing about "terrible events." Love alone was
-worth considering.
-
-"We meet love everywhere," said Odette. "I find it springing up under my
-feet wherever I go; in the operating-room, at the bedside of the wounded
-and the dying. The towns nearest to the front are fuller of it than any
-others, it would seem. They say that it has never caused such a stir."
-
-"It represents life, which must be perpetuated, whatever happens. In
-your case, my dear Odette, love is joined to death, but in general, no;
-it severs itself from death. Those of our day who sing of love and
-practise it are more surely serving the future than those who conceive
-of restraint as the sole virtue."
-
-In spite of herself, these unpremeditated words brought a sudden light
-into the perplexed thoughts with which Odette's persistent sorrow and
-her natural disposition as a loving young woman inspired Clotilde. She
-felt impelled to cry out to her: "You think you are loving a dead man,
-my poor dear! but you are not twenty-eight years old; you are in love
-with love; it is always here, and is waiting for you!"
-
-Both of them were equally incapable of disguising the truth as it
-appeared to them. Odette, bound by a tie whose almost inconceivable
-strength kept down every other sort of desire; Clotilde simply deep in
-love to the point of hardly being able to imagine a case different from
-her own. By chance she had not uttered words which deeply wound a
-bleeding heart, but Odette's acute senses at once perceived that there
-is hardly any conversation possible even upon the dearest subject that
-they may have in common, between two creatures, one of whom is happy and
-the other in sorrow.
-
-She at least observed this: that Clotilde, from an absolutely opposite
-point of view, was at one with Mme. de Blauve, with Mme. de Calouas,
-with La Villaumer, with each and every one, in saying to her: "My dear
-friend, you should not always mourn."
-
-And her grief, so genuine, was increased tenfold.
-
-But Clotilde, self-indulgent, egotistic, and thinking only of her own
-pleasure or of sparing herself pain, was saying to Odette:
-
-"See here, my dear; will you do me a great service? Will you come to
-lunch with us to-morrow? Would that bore you?"
-
-"Why should it bore me? Why do you call it doing you a service?"
-
-"It is settled, then. See here; I must tell you a secret. You know how I
-love my husband, how happy I am. There is only one dark spot: my husband
-has a friend, a blinded officer--Captain Dessaud. He brings him two or
-three times a week to lunch, on the pretext that he is lonely, with no
-family, and desperate. Of course I cannot object, you understand; but
-the sight of that man is painful to me to a degree that you would never
-believe. I have to talk to him, and I have nothing to say to a fellow
-who has lost his sight, who hopes for nothing, who has no motive for
-being happy. I am sick with it. Come to my help--you are used to
-wretchedness, you know!"
-
-"Yes indeed, yes indeed, I will come."
-
-
-
-
-XXV
-
-
-Once at home, Odette thought more about Clotilde's conversation than
-about the coming meeting with the blinded man, which she dreaded. On the
-other side of the thin partition of her little drawing-room, her
-neighbor, the musician, who was sometimes reinforced by a 'cellist, was
-filling all space with enamoured, passionate, and agitating sounds,
-enough to rend the heart. Love, love, everywhere and always love! For
-the first time in her life Odette, who adored love, who but now had been
-delighting in talking freely of love, who even admitted the justice of
-some of Clotilde's assertions on the superlatively beneficent office of
-love, Odette felt that in thinking of love and talking of love with her
-friend she had lost tone, and now she had only one thought, heard only
-the one voice from beyond the tomb. "When I am talking with my friend,"
-she said to herself, "I seem to be taking part in what is said, or is
-laughed at; yes, but I take part in it like the dead to whom it is given
-to perceive earthly things once more. The war, when it robbed me of my
-Jean, crushed the vitality of my body. My heart has become forever
-insensible. I am carried along in the whirlwind of present events like
-the threshed straw which might float above the standing harvest,
-thinking to recognize in it stalks like itself, without realizing that
-the iron has cut it off, separated it forever from the earth."
-
-The moaning of the violoncello, the influence of the music, gave a sort
-of lyric inclination to her usually modest thought and contributed to
-increase her agitation.
-
-"The times are so hard," she continued, "that I have not had, for two
-years, the slight consolation of talking with any one of my love-sorrow.
-I could hope to do so with one alone, because her love is, so to speak,
-apart from the war. But when she speaks to me of love I perceive that
-her idea of love is not mine, or is no longer mine. The love that I bear
-within me is no longer accessible to any human creature!"
-
-The musician in the next room took up, as usual, her favorite
-_Nocturne_, accompanying it with her voice, wordlessly, until the grand,
-inspired utterance of desolation, thrice repeated, enwrapped the hearer
-like the long dark locks of night itself.
-
-Then Odette, solitary amidst the pictures of her well-beloved, fell into
-a long fit of weeping, as she had so often done before.
-
-
-
-
-XXVI
-
-
-She found Clotilde alone next day at the lunch-hour, her husband being
-almost always late, especially when he had to go to fetch the blinded
-man. At last she recognized the voice of the handsome George in the
-anteroom, and saw him pushing before him, as a ventriloquist guides his
-automaton, a tall young man, neither handsome nor plain, in the uniform
-of a captain of light infantry, and with closed eyes. The blinded man
-bowed, and clasped the hand that Clotilde laid within his own; George
-explained to him that one of their friends was with them, a young
-war-widow, Mme. Jacquelin. The blind man also pressed the hand that
-Odette extended to him.
-
-He already knew the apartment with minute exactness. He walked to the
-table without aid, almost without feeling his way; and recognized each
-flower by its perfume; they directed his fingers to the primroses which
-have no perfume, and one would have said that his eager fingers
-recognized the table decorations as strange little mute personages.
-After a brief touch he knew the precise situation of each object; with
-the blade of his knife he recognized the nature of the food on his
-plate, and cut it adroitly. Possibly he might have been able to help
-himself, like others, from the dish presented by the servant, but he was
-spared the necessity of this feat by the question: "What do you prefer,
-captain?"
-
-He talked freely, almost gayly, though with an evident effort. He
-appeared to be intelligent without ever having been cultivated; but
-neither his person nor his mind revealed anything remarkable. He would
-doubtless have been a man like any other if he had not been blinded.
-
-Odette shuddered on looking at those closed eyelids on the face of a man
-in whom one divined, notwithstanding his effort to conceal it, a secret
-suffering. Yet his voice was not that of a man who bore a mystery about
-with him; his suffering probably did not attain to those higher regions
-which a rich imagination transforms into torture-chambers for men
-unhappily deprived of the light of day; he did not dream of romantic
-sunsets, of the contemplation of the celestial vault, or of Correggio's
-sunlight, nor even of the beauty of houris.
-
-As George was offering to his touch the cigars in a box, he whispered in
-his ear:
-
-"You have been lunching with a pretty-woman, old fellow, don't you
-know?"
-
-"Your wife? I should think so!"
-
-"My wife, yes, but the other one, young, very pretty!"
-
-The blind man seemed to reflect, shook his head and said:
-
-"That always gives pleasure."
-
-"Her husband," George went on, "was killed in the early days----"
-
-"Has she children?" asked the blinded man.
-
-"They had only been married three or four years; they would have
-had----"
-
-"Perhaps she loved him too much? That sometimes happens, it appears."
-
-"Yes," said George.
-
-The blinded man turned his closed eyes, like an extinguished lighthouse,
-in Odette's direction. He experienced a curious feeling, almost envy, of
-the dead man who had been so much beloved.
-
-He became more interested in Odette. It appeared that she had nursed one
-of his comrades through a bad affair at Surville. Men cut to pieces,
-gaping wounds, sensational operations, and the agonized resignation of
-those young men did not produce in her one-quarter of the pitying revolt
-which was caused her by the eternal privation from light which a living,
-healthy being might suffer by her side.
-
-In his presence she recovered something of her manner of speaking with
-the wounded, but her natural frankness was not animated by that smiling
-perspective of a still possible future which a woman perceives at the
-bedside of a soldier, even one who has lost a limb. The nurse speaks no
-falsehood when she says: "My little friend, when you are well, when you
-once more see your home, your village--" But when she is constrained to
-omit from her vocabulary the radiant word see, how constrained and
-powerless she is!
-
-Blinded men always awoke in her extreme compassion when she met them in
-the street, when they were spoken of in her presence. She remembered how
-tears had risen to her eyes, how her throat had contracted, when Simone
-had described that wedding at the Madeleine, the handsome couple coming
-down the steps, the bridegroom all adorned with decorations, in the face
-of an admiring crowd who suddenly perceived that he could not see. But
-she had never before been obliged to carry on a conversation with one of
-those beings whom the deprivation of a sense makes more different from
-ourselves than the loss of many limbs. She instinctively managed it very
-well, though she was moved to the last degree; she knew at once how to
-speak to one who had been greatly afflicted--as she would have done to
-a normal man, without appearing to notice his condition. The captain was
-grateful to her for it, and it was evident that he was much more at ease
-with Odette, on this first meeting, than he had ever succeeded in being
-with Clotilde, whom he had known a long time. Clotilde, incapable of
-dominating her selfishness, could have been brought by no human power to
-the point of forcing herself to an act not agreeable to herself. Her
-husband, who was pained by her attitude, said to her: "See how gracious
-Odette is!"
-
-The blinded man went away with his friend, evidently happy for having
-chatted with a pretty and afflicted woman, for having been able to
-induce her to act as if neither she nor he had been touched by
-misfortune.
-
-"Judge," said Clotilde when the two men had gone out, "to what point I
-am stupid and benumbed, and what a service you have rendered me! But I
-beg pardon for having inflicted it upon you."
-
-"When a thing of this sort pains me," said Odette, "I do not know what I
-feel. I have noticed that at the hospital, especially in the early days.
-I don't deny that it seems as if I were being rubbed the wrong way, but
-there is a sort of miraculous cure that acts of itself, penetrating like
-a drop of balm, to the very depths of the wound."
-
-"I don't understand you at all," said Clotilde; "a thing that bores me
-bores me, and when anything hurts me I simply must push it away or go
-away myself."
-
-"I used to be like you," said Odette; "I am still, in all that concerns
-my grief. For that there is no balm; nothing will ever heal it. Perhaps
-there is something exceptional in love; it takes possession of us, it
-makes us happy to an extent that blinds us to everything besides, or it
-wounds us to death. But all that is not love, and what tries to embitter
-us must carry its antidote within itself."
-
-"When we love," said Clotilde, "nothing else can seriously affect us."
-
-"Notwithstanding which, I assure you that I have often within the past
-two years been painfully affected, and I have not ceased to love."
-
-"You think so, my poor Odette! But if Jean had continued to be with you,
-you would have had no feeling but for him."
-
-"Clotilde, you are spoiled by happiness; you understand nothing!"
-
-Clotilde shook her head. She felt that she had somewhat nettled her
-friend in unveiling her thought to her.
-
-"You will come again all the same, Odette? Even to face my blind man?"
-
-"If you wish," said Odette sadly.
-
-
-
-
-XXVII
-
-
-Clotilde's state of mind, which she had until now rather enjoyed, began
-to trouble Odette. She had thought herself entirely in harmony with
-Clotilde, just as Clotilde had imagined herself to think in unison with
-Odette, because both of them loved, and because until then nothing had
-seemed to come between them. But to-day Odette was repelled by
-Clotilde's attitude, her ivory tower, her aversion to suffering, and her
-lack of suavity. "I used to be like her," Odette said to herself. "Am I
-different now because events have taken me by storm? Or is it indeed, as
-she says, because Jean, whom I surely do not love less, is not here to
-engross me?"
-
-She was terrorized by this idea, which nevertheless she felt to be
-false. She was overwhelmed with remorse and accused herself of having
-grown cool in the worship of her husband. It was true that too many
-things were conspiring to lead her away from the thought which ought to
-be her only one. She returned once more to her mortuary chapel, her
-relics, her portraits. To guard against her sorrow being frittered away
-by the many sympathies with which her walks inspired her, she shut
-herself up at home. The winter, aggravated by the hostile cold, was so
-depressing, the news from without was so gloomy, that Odette fell into a
-sort of neurasthenia. She, who had never known illness, was constrained
-to call in a physician. He ordered, not medicine, but diversion at any
-cost.
-
-"There are still many theatres open," he said; "I don't ask you to go to
-see 'gay pieces,' which are cruder than anything else, but go to
-something good. A woman of your years," he added, "has no right to let
-herself die of inanition."
-
-She obeyed the doctor, not to save her health, but because she was
-touched with shame. Here was another who said to her: "You have no
-right." It was a middle-aged physician of great celebrity, and even
-intelligent; he had lost his two sons in the war; his wife had died of
-grief, he himself was mobilized and was working hard in the hospitals.
-
-She went once to a benefit performance. _Carmen_ was given. She had
-adored that work whose obscure and brilliant genius had often benumbed
-her like a bunch of dark carnations with their pungent fragrance. But
-her attention was captured by the presence at her side of a
-sublieutenant whose sleeve hung empty by his side, and when the young
-man, all on fire, turned to his neighbor on the other side, who must
-have been his mother, or to some friends behind him, the soft,
-superfluous cloth, with its short gold braid brushed Odette's knee. The
-officer became aware of it and, excusing himself, gathered up the cloth
-with his right hand. More than this, from one of the boxes broke out, at
-almost regular and too frequent intervals, a man's laugh, abrupt,
-uncontrollable, and without the least relation to the dramatic work that
-was being given. Several persons turned that way, indignant at first,
-even angry, until one of them perceived that this ill-timed gayety came
-from an officer who was listening with the utmost seriousness, but who
-was affected by the results of a cerebral shock. Word was whispered
-about, no head was again turned; every one was universally commiserating
-the infirmity whose tragic character equalled that of the masterpiece to
-which they were listening.
-
-"'You must be diverted at any cost,'" thought Odette.
-
-"In the matter of therapeutics," her friend La Villaumer said to her,
-not long after this experience, "for my part I believe in a very old
-rule, which says: 'For great evils great remedies.' In times like ours,
-for any one who has greatly suffered, diversions are less appropriate
-than strenuous tasks."
-
-
-
-
-XXVIII
-
-
-Odette went occasionally to lunch with Clotilde to help her entertain
-her blinded man. In general she went about fitfully, now here, now
-there, to offer her small services. She was welcomed at sales, for she
-pleased people.
-
-She even inspired, at her booths, what people call passions--sudden and
-burning--which, however, manifested themselves indirectly and
-discreetly, so much did even the boldest man dread to approach a young
-widow universally known to be so proper, and so faithful to her grief.
-
-The first was a commandant of infantry who had been wounded three or
-four times, and who had a long convalescent leave; he was barely
-thirty-four years old, and was one of the finest types of soldier in the
-present war. After having conversed with Odette he sent a friend to ask
-her if later, strictly speaking, much later, she would consent to become
-his wife. She declined the request as if it had been insane; could any
-one suppose that she would ever marry again?
-
-The second was a man about fifty years of age, well known about town, a
-member of the Jockey Club, enjoying, as the novels say, an immense
-fortune and unquestionably holding a very prominent position in society.
-He was the organizer of most of the war charities in which Odette's help
-had been sought. He loaned for them his buildings and what remained to
-him of his staff of servants, gave to them his time and his purse.
-Odette had touched him with one of those lightning strokes which reach
-only men of that age, and after her refusal he fell violently ill,
-remained depressed, downcast, aged, incapable of managing his business,
-obliged to retire to one of his country-places, where he became
-oblivious of everything, even of the war and its evils, of which up to
-this time he had thought only to seek a remedy, thinking now only of the
-cruel Odette.
-
-She was as indifferent to this adventure as to the other,
-notwithstanding the friendly remonstrances that poured in upon her. The
-latter offer had been made to her through Mme. de Blauve, and this
-friend, while bowing to the sentiment of fidelity which bound Odette to
-a beloved memory, took courage to point out to her that in the midst of
-her married happiness she had failed to found a family. Odette, with all
-her intelligence, her sincere devotion, did not understand. She had
-loved one man; she continued to love his memory. No other idea, with
-whatever importance it might be clothed, commanded her respect; she
-understood only her own heart, which simply clung like an ivy to the
-tree, however dried up it might be, and to which no power could prevent
-her clinging.
-
-All Odette's friends shared Mme. de Blauve's opinion, however unlike
-they might be to this noble woman--ail of them, even to Clotilde.
-
-Yes, even Clotilde blamed her for not having at least accepted the young
-commandant. Odette was amazed at this, the result being that these two
-loving women fell out.
-
-La Villaumer, to whom Odette confided this trouble, said to her:
-
-"If your friend Clotilde were to be so unfortunate as to lose her
-husband, whom she adores, the chances are sixty to a hundred that after
-a certain time she would love another as much or almost as much as him,
-while you judge such a transferrence of love inadmissible."
-
-"But, after all, one loves or one does not love; that is perfectly
-simple!"
-
-"No, indeed, it is not so simple as that. One loves and one can love as
-Clotilde does, or as you do, yourself. We do not easily distinguish
-differences so long as lovers, being united, are happy."
-
-"You frighten me. Are there then loves that are not love? Is not
-sentiment the finest thing in love? And can there be a fine sentiment
-that is not lasting?"
-
-"In the first place, my dear friend, permit me to believe that you do
-not profess your sentiment because it is fine, nor does it last with you
-because you find it beautiful. You find your sentiment beautiful because
-it is yours. You look upon it as lasting indefinitely because your eyes
-are incapable of looking as far as its end; that is all. In your case
-there is no constraint, no submission to any law, aesthetic or moral.
-You feel that way. Your friend Clotilde loves in her way, and she finds
-it beautiful, believe me."
-
-"All the same! All the same, there is an almost general consent to
-consider that love superior which is adorned with sentiment, and does
-not consent to be short-lived."
-
-"Yes; and this is in conformity with the morality which has ruled us
-thus far. This morality is all delicacy. But, reduced to this degree of
-purity, will it suffice to keep alive a struggle as ardent as the one
-which we are now witnessing, for the possession of a part of the outside
-of the world, or even for the supremacy of certain ideas? It must
-concede provisionally a preponderance to material, mortal life, since it
-is evident that the morality of the just will triumph only on condition
-that it has force on its side. Do you follow me, my poor friend? All
-this is very dry. But this is my way of telling you that these
-crystalline sentiments, that are an 'ornament' in ordinary times, become
-a luxury in our age of iron and fire. Luxury is no longer permissible.
-The time has come when all refinements must give way to a very stern
-reality. As you have been very well told: 'We are not our own.' General
-consent? It should be given to the best good of the cause which unites
-us all, and carries us all away with itself. Forgive me, my very dear
-friend. I am going to commit a rudeness which gives me pain--and you
-know that only the extremity of an unheard-of calamity could bring me to
-that--yes, your sentiment, with its persistence, is beautiful in itself,
-most beautiful; but we are no longer at leisure to look at things 'in
-themselves.' Well, if your friend Clotilde had lost her husband in your
-place and at the same time, and if she were to-day the wife of another
-who had made her a mother, for example, we ought really to hold her case
-in higher esteem than yours!"
-
-A sob choked Odette. They were walking along the Champs-Elysées. She
-sought for a chair and sank upon it.
-
-"I am not vexed with you," she said as soon as she could speak;
-"something in my inmost being understands you-- It has already been said
-to me-- But it is hard!"
-
-"The time is exceptional."
-
-
-
-
-XXIX
-
-
-Odette spent much of her time in consoling poor Rose. Her husband's
-death had passed almost unnoticed. But other and very dramatic deaths
-had also passed unnoticed. When men were brought home in fragments it
-made a sensation, but once they were dead the sad equality of the earth
-obscured their memory. Indescribable episodes had attained such a
-character, and had reached such numbers, that people hardly dared speak
-of them. Minds were saturated and automatically closed against any new
-sensation. Many were unable to endure any story of the war, whether in
-the newspapers or in books. Odette recalled to mind the impression which
-the wounded had formerly made. They were already saying "formerly" when
-speaking of the present war! Now there were wounded everywhere. It was
-rather the unscathed men upon whom one looked as if to say to them: "See
-here, you! what are you doing with your arms, with your legs?" Certain
-persons, with a strong revulsion of the instinct of self-preservation,
-refused, like Clotilde, even to think about the war; others, on the
-other hand, buried themselves in it with passionate intensity.
-
-Mme. de Blauve, who had become fond of Odette and occasionally came to
-see her, now came to announce the marriage of her eldest daughter. She
-told the news almost as if saying: "At last!" as if it were the case of
-an old maid whom she had despaired of marrying off. Mlle. de Blauve was
-barely sixteen, she was attractive and endowed with much charm, had been
-most carefully educated, and promised to be really beautiful. She was to
-marry a wounded sublieutenant.
-
-"Ah!" said Odette; "does she love him?"
-
-"He is a young man of good family," said Mme. de Blauve, "and he has
-behaved admirably."
-
-"But he will return to the front! You will be in perpetual anxiety!"
-
-"Not that," replied Mme. de Blauve. "To be sure, my daughter would have
-liked to be the wife of a soldier who remained a soldier, like her
-father. But soldiers in active service will always find some one to
-marry them, and wives must be found for those less favored, who have
-been checked in their career----"
-
-"Has her fiancé been retired?" asked Odette. "Don't tell me that he is
-badly----"
-
-"Oh, this is not the time to think about things that girls used to care
-for; the question is to save our men by giving them wives, so that they
-may be in a position to found a family. This young man is from the
-devastated regions. He has lost all his family--some of them have been
-shot, others have died during the occupation of the enemy--and it is
-entirely impossible for him to earn a decent living. We ourselves have
-sacrificed more blood than money; my daughter will still have a certain
-amount of fortune, therefore----"
-
-"But what is the matter with him? What has he lost?" asked Odette,
-thinking only of that absolute union of two beings which had illuminated
-her own life.
-
-"Oh, it is very sad," said Mme. de Blauve; "my future son-in-law is one
-of those most deserving of interest, who have received face wounds. His
-face--how can I tell you?--lacks almost everything except the passages
-that are necessary for eating and breathing----"
-
-Odette uttered an inarticulate exclamation and rang the bell. But she
-did not faint until Mme. de Blauve was gone.
-
-
-The case of Mlle. de Blauve evoked more criticism than admiration.
-According to some it was absolutely too terrible and not to be thought
-about. In most cases, however, sensitiveness had been so dulled by the
-constant hearing of war-stories that very little attention was paid to
-this act of superhuman devotion. Some said: "The mother is crazy and the
-young girl does not realize what she is doing. One may do violence to
-nature, or may dupe it for a short time; this is a time when we ought to
-resolve upon any sacrifice, even to throwing ourselves into the arms of
-death; but death is either the end or the beginning of the unknown. The
-idea of marrying a superb girl of sixteen to a man without a face!"
-
-Yet every one knew that far from bringing pressure to bear upon her
-daughter, Mme. de Blauve had made every possible effort to prevent her
-marrying another wounded man, an unlucky fellow who, approaching a
-trench with a grenade in each hand, had had both eyes burned at the very
-moment when a bursting shell had set off the two grenades and shattered
-both hands. What she was now doing was a slight thing in comparison with
-the thing that she had prevented.
-
-Odette felt that she must know La Villaumer's opinion on this matter.
-They had no regular engagement for meeting, and met only by chance. She
-decided to go to his house shortly before the luncheon hour. An old
-servant ushered her into a room where, to her great surprise, she heard
-the tones of a harmonium mingled with a man's voice entirely untrained.
-It proceeded from the neighboring room, separated from her by a glass
-door partly screened by a curtain of Chinese silk. The thing was so
-unusual and so puzzling that she could not refrain from peeping around
-the edge of the curtain. She saw at the instrument an organist whom she
-knew, and standing beside him a man bereft of both arms, and the pose of
-whose head was that of a blind man trying to catch the notes which the
-teacher was patiently repeating. All around them were soldiers wearing
-black glasses, with closed eyes or with bandaged faces, and Villaumer in
-his dressing-gown coming and going among them. He suddenly disappeared
-and came into the room where Odette was standing.
-
-"I have caught you!" said she. "Try now to convince me that what I have
-been told of you is not true! You are no longer in your own home!"
-
-"My good friend," he replied, "I am having lessons given to the most
-unfortunate of those unhappy ones whom evil fortune and inaction are
-driving to despair. They are being taught the rudiments of music; they
-are trying to sing; it occupies them."
-
-"I knew that you were kind----"
-
-"I am not kind; I am generally severe upon men. But the sight of
-misfortune is intolerable to me; and for men like these, who have been
-three-quarters destroyed for the sake of saving us, yes, I confess that
-I could give my last shirt; I would wait upon them at table-- Will you
-take luncheon with us?"
-
-Through the half-open door into the dining-room she could see a table
-spread for twelve.
-
-"Do you take lunch with them?" asked Odette.
-
-"I permit myself that honor-- It is my last self-indulgence. Well, will
-you take advantage of it?"
-
-"I cannot, my friend, I cannot. I should weep through the whole meal.
-That is not what they need."
-
-"No. One must have the courage to bestow upon them the gayety--which we
-don't possess. Social hypocrisy has not been practised all this time in
-vain, if it has taught this to some of us."
-
-"I am ashamed of my weakness," said Odette. "I should not flinch before
-any sort of wound, but the thought that the war has deprived a man of
-the light of day forces me to ask myself whether I myself have a right
-to look upon these beautiful silks, this sunlight----"
-
-"Take pleasure in the silks, in objects of art, and in sunlight, you who
-are made to charm that portion of humanity that remains intact. You
-would not, on the pretext that millions of men have been plunged into
-darkness or death, irritate them gratuitously by an ill-regulated
-sympathy? Innumerable lives have, alas, been shattered, but life
-remains, the light is brilliant, plants are growing, animals and even
-men still swarm upon the earth. Recall to mind the tragic and
-paradoxical truth that human life, which is the highest work and appears
-to have been the purpose of the creation of the world, is that for
-which, on the whole, that great work appears to care the least. Whatever
-part man may be called to play, his destiny is to pass away. That horror
-of war with which we are inspired by the extermination of men is in the
-long run kept up and perpetuated by material depredations; the memory of
-an illustrious building destroyed will last longer than that of a
-hundred thousand young men mown down in their youth."
-
-"And meanwhile you are throwing overboard all you possess to rescue men
-who are only half alive. That is all that I wanted to know."
-
-
-
-
-XXX
-
-
-Odette spent several days in bed as a consequence of the marriage of the
-little de Blauve girl--which took place in the strictest privacy, and
-which she had not attended. But her imagination was lively, and she
-pictured things to herself.
-
-She sought out her friend La Villaumer, as it were, now that she had
-detected him in an act of kindness. As for him, in her presence he took
-less pains to conceal his acts, now that she understood him better.
-
-"I have always loved men," he said. "Why should I not love them since I
-have always professed to criticise them? Have I misunderstood them?
-Remember how indulgent I was for all that in them is so far removed from
-the only thing that I really prize--intelligence. How vulnerable I have
-been to their instincts! How I have smiled at their innumerable follies!
-I simply enjoyed studying them, without the slightest partiality,
-notwithstanding my secret reverence for reason, which seems to me to be
-a torch lighted at the altar of a god and carefully transmitted by
-certain privileged beings to certain privileged beings, while yet the
-chain that they form never succeeds--no one can tell why--in producing
-an illumination. Therefore, I have never believed that the world
-belonged to what we have learned to venerate under the name of
-intelligence. Intelligence is a divine part which no doubt gives us
-notions of what there is on high, but which has almost no application to
-things here below. The world is not governed by intelligence. Sometimes
-intelligence makes converts, and we believe that its reign has come.
-Illusion! It is precisely then that we are upon the point of falling
-again into blessed ignorance, and going back to the age of barbarism. Do
-you know, I am tempted to believe that the age of barbarism is the
-normal period of humanity! We probably need cruelty, absurdity,
-injustice, superstition, torrents of bloodshed, in order that the
-mystery which we admire under the name of life may exist and perpetuate
-itself. Our bodies can be fed only by offensive means. The majority of
-human pleasures are unfathomably stupid. The great masses obey certain
-elementary formulas, sayings of which they have never weighed the
-meaning, and which often have no meaning. Governments are not carried on
-by luminous reasoning, but by the allurement of sounding words that
-flatter the senses. In order to hold our own in a large and influential
-social group, my poor friend, are we going to be called to admit the
-timeliness of belief in prophets, in wonder-workers, in ghosts, in the
-platitudes of 'apparitions,' in the genius of simple minds? Is a torrent
-of puerility about to inundate the surface of the globe? May it be that
-this is the indispensable element of reparation? Intelligence, reduced
-to its own resources, has in fact no power of expansion, no means of
-action. It is enough to make one die of shame and vexation! Law,
-justice, liberty--we can imagine men shrugging their shoulders when they
-hear the words, for the words are efficacious only when they are emptied
-of their significance and travestied into elementary ideas which
-naturally lead to the violation of law, liberty, justice. In the matter
-of ideas men believe only in their tutelary virtue; they are protecting
-divinities; and the idea is nothing but a word that men symbolize on
-their flagstaffs, like a fetich. We are as credulous as Homer's
-warriors. Minerva fights with us. For that matter, I do not think that
-there ever was a better opportunity for adopting the theocratic
-conception of the world, for men are at this moment given over to the
-elements, and the greatest political genius imaginable would probably be
-powerless so long as the convulsions with which the world is attacked
-are not quieted of themselves. In these conditions there is no room in
-the home of a poor fellow for any but the virtues of pity and affection.
-I confess the fact, my dear Odette, I can no longer control my heart."
-
-"To be moved to compassion is to be weakened, I have been told."
-
-"There is truth in that opinion so far as those persons are concerned
-who are more especially called by circumstances to act, and especially
-to direct the actions of others; such must put on blinders and look only
-to the immediate purpose which demands all their energies. But it is
-desirable that in the midst of this tempest-tossed world a few
-contemplative persons shall devote themselves to pity as to the
-conservation of a 'precious blood'; if only for the sake of the
-efficacy, or at least of the beauty of the thing. And the worshippers at
-this altar will need to contend--do you know with whom?--with humanity
-itself, which has little remembrance of its own ills, and which, like a
-kitten, hastens to play with the first ray of sunshine. It is true that
-the dead keep a great silence."
-
-
-
-
-XXXI
-
-
-Odette was at home one evening, and alone. Stretched out upon a lounge,
-she was gazing at the photographs of Jean on little tables or within her
-reach upon the walls, hypnotizing herself with the sight of them,
-kissing them as she always did.
-
-Amelia came in saying that the next apartment was "crammed full."
-
-"Madame, if there aren't twenty men six feet high in that room, my own
-poor husband isn't a prisoner with the Boches!"
-
-In fact there was a great commotion on the other side of the partition.
-Furniture and chairs were being moved about, and as all sounds
-penetrated through the cracks of the door, the syllables of an
-unfamiliar language could be heard, perhaps Rumanian or Russian. The
-neighbor was a foreigner.
-
-Suddenly there was silence. Amelia had withdrawn. It was an imposed,
-perhaps a concerted, silence. "It is a musical recital," said Odette to
-herself. In fact she almost immediately recognized the sprightly touch
-of the pianist, mellow, languishing, melting into the keyboard as into a
-tender flesh, by turns nervous, light, cruel as a hammer, heavy as a
-pile-driver, seeming to crush the instrument, then suddenly soft,
-fluttering on the keys like the wing of a dying bird. Though the woman
-often played for herself alone, this was not the first time that many
-people had gathered around her to hear her music.
-
-A chorus of men's voices burst forth. It was strange, weird, enough to
-make one catch one's breath. Odette listened. That sensitiveness to
-music which often reached depths in her unknown to herself, was suddenly
-wrought up to its utmost pitch. She did not know the chorus, and sought
-in vain for an author to whom to ascribe it. It might be a popular song,
-perhaps very ancient, to judge by its artless simplicity, its pure
-rhythm, and its wild, sweet accent. At times a soprano voice uprose in a
-solo, and the chorus, a third below, responded softly in whisperings
-that grew nearer and nearer, quickly spreading like oil upon the sea, or
-as if transmitted from man to man over immense plains and endlessly
-flowing rivers. Suddenly two or three raucous or strident cries gathered
-up all the voices to a sharp point directed toward the heavens. Then all
-sound ceased, and one felt as if falling from a superb altitude into the
-depths of an abyss.
-
-Then the fingers of the enchantress executed a ballad of Balakireff,
-or Dvorak's hymn, "On the Death of a Hero." And then, after a pause,
-another chorus broke forth.
-
-There was in it all a melancholy which no words could so much as
-suggest, in which amid the uniformly plaintive murmur one discerned such
-lifelike wailings that one could have stretched out the hands to succor
-these vague, unrecognized, and multiplied sufferings. They swelled,
-spread abroad, took on so mighty an extension that in spite of oneself
-one saw the surface of the suffering world, heard the feeble and
-resigned voice of man, of man always the sport of fate, always in
-leading-strings, always sacrificed like cattle to gods whose secret he
-could not fathom. It was the lament of the ancient earth of humanity,
-timid, uncouth, and despairing, issuing from bruised hearts, from torn
-flesh, from souls robbed of their innocent ideals, a disturbing lament
-issuing from the borders of marshes, from forests, from glacial plains,
-from desert steppes, from nameless villages, prisons, palaces,
-battlefields, tombs, and stoically, pathetically, and yet childishly
-addressed to--no one!
-
-Odette had often been on the verge of sentiments corresponding to this
-music, primitive, barbarous, perhaps divine, but when music comes to be
-mingled with our sentiments it reveals them to themselves and amplifies
-them without measure. Odette saw what she had never dared to see; for
-the first time she was transported outside of herself, or at least she
-felt the conviction that she was. It produced in her such an overturning
-of her points of view as almost to make her dizzy. She suddenly
-discovered how completely she had considered everything with reference
-to herself, even in her seemingly most generous moments. At this instant
-she thought of herself in relation to the incalculable number of persons
-who were not she. It was not that the moans of humanity were now
-reaching her for the first time, but it was the first time that the sobs
-of others came to her ears with a tone of majestic sadness which forced
-her to grovel upon the earth, saying: "I no longer count; I am only the
-servant of grief."
-
-It was a painful sentiment if there is one, and yet, by a curious
-contradiction, a sentiment in the same degree joyful. A boundless
-commiseration caused her heart to throb and tears to come to her eyes,
-and yet this painful sympathy, far from being cruel or depressing,
-wrought in her soul an unsuspected outflowering, like an outburst of
-inconceivable elation in which was mingled bitterness and pity.
-
-There is no compensation for the personal suffering that we may
-experience. On the contrary, in a close and complete union with the
-sufferings of others is hidden a joy of mutual pain; an active desire to
-give aid impels to the beginning of a helpful act, provokes to so
-fervent a prayer for heavenly mercy that the heart no longer knows
-whether it lies prone in utter distress or has attained to a radiant
-phase of existence incomparably higher than its paltry estate as an
-isolated being. The word "love" presents itself to a soul thus
-irradiated without any sustaining form which might limit its character;
-it is without extent as without form; as to the source that feeds it,
-springing up no one knows where, one is convinced that there is no fear
-that it will ever be exhausted.
-
-Odette often wept, but to-day it was with other tears. She took up one
-of Jean's photographs and found but one word to say to it:
-
-"Forgive me!"
-
-She understood neither what she felt nor what she was doing, but she was
-conscious of failing Jean. Not of failing Jean in favor of another, but
-for the sake of a multitude of others among whom no one man could be
-discerned. When she was able to formulate a thought, she said to
-herself: "I was pitying." She might have said: "Charity has taken
-possession of me."
-
-
-
-
-XXXII
-
-
-There was no sign that any event had occurred that evening. Odette had
-spent it alone in her little drawing-room. The chorus in the next
-apartment was stilled. But that evening was made up of the most
-important hours which the young wife had experienced since the death of
-her husband.
-
-Odette was aware that something had been revealed within herself, but
-she was ill adapted to analyze herself, and the phenomenon was still
-wrapped in mist. It had manifested its reality only by a single act of
-hers--an act which she remembered, which abode with her: the prayer for
-forgiveness addressed to the picture of her beloved Jean. She returned
-continually to this material fact; she had seized the photograph and had
-kissed it as if she had been at fault. Thanks to this fact, the
-spiritual operations of which it was the conclusion were not arrested,
-did not vanish like smoke, and pursued her that night, on the morrow,
-and during the following days.
-
-So sudden a burst of light might indeed have been ephemeral in
-character. We are all subject, especially under an exterior influence
-acting upon the senses, to similar spasms of enthusiasm, or to dreams of
-a like generosity which may be only a passing impulse. They die away and
-we return to a condition which we call reasonable, that is to say,
-lucid, calm, well-balanced, and tame.
-
-With Odette this illumination had not the character of a sudden impulse,
-but was rather the outcome of a long and almost unconscious preparation.
-How many words, how many tidings, how many hints registered in her
-memory, how many puzzling suggestions, how many dramatic scenes, how
-many ideas had been as so many arrows of direction, guiding her toward
-the place where she had received the divine spark! How many books read,
-how many musings, apparently without result, had determined the
-direction that had brought her here! Odette was like a clay which during
-two and a half years had been continually receiving the touches of a
-thumb or chisel, powerless to give her the form which an invisible
-artist desired her to take, and the last touch, removing an encumbering
-bit, had produced precisely the shape desired.
-
-Odette awoke next morning in the same condition in which she had fallen
-asleep, with the one difference that she no longer wept. But the tears
-of the evening had had their sweetness. She found herself in an almost
-grateful tranquillity. She went and came in the midst of Jean's
-photographs, and Jean did not reproach her for her new state of mind.
-His memory seemed to be in nowise outraged. And yet Odette did not
-forget that she had begged his forgiveness, as if it had been possible
-that she had failed him. This fact marked a well-determined date in the
-perturbations of her soul. But it seemed to her that she had received to
-her "Forgive me!" a gentle, calming reply, a loving approbation.
-
-
-
-
-XXXIII
-
-
-Yet the moment came when it seemed to her that she was losing her
-reason. She had seen many cases of cerebral disturbance since the war;
-they had been more or less apparent. Some persons of her acquaintance
-had been duly shut up in insane asylums, but there were many at large
-who showed the almost imperceptible wound by which the microbe had
-penetrated.
-
-By way of discovering whether or no she was mentally affected, she
-imposed upon herself the test of behaving for a while like a woman who
-has decided to lead the usual life until the end. She said to herself:
-"I am not insane, for I think it requires more courage to adopt, every
-day and every hour, the attitude of ordinary life, as if the war did not
-exist--seeing that the majority of people who act thus have been crushed
-or tortured by it--than to give oneself up to the monster bound hand and
-foot. I am the less strong in not being able to endure the commingling
-of both interests and throwing myself into these horrors. I should be
-senseless if I deemed my own actions alone to be good, beautiful, and
-worthy. But I am judging myself. I am therefore not demented."
-
-Out of curiosity she went one day to see Clotilde, still by way of test.
-"To measure myself," she said to herself.
-
-Clotilde's undue self-satisfaction made her friends really
-uncomfortable, a discomfort which from the first they had sought to hide
-or refused to recognize, which until now such a friend as Odette had
-even refused to admit, but which to-day she could not endure. Clotilde,
-surrounded by flowers, bathed in a perfumed atmosphere, talked only of a
-change she had made in the decoration of her rooms, of her clothes, or
-of matters so utterly foreign to current events that it seemed as if for
-her the latter had no existence. She never went out, lest she should be
-obliged to see or hear disagreeable things, and yet never had she bought
-so many hats and gowns as since the war. On her earlier visits Odette
-had slightly shrugged her shoulders as if amused and not wholly
-displeased. By degrees, the disproportion between such interests and the
-wound with which the whole world was bleeding overmastered her ability
-to make allowances.
-
-Odette reminded her friend that she had not of late called upon her for
-help, and asked if she had lost her blind man. Clotilde was amazingly
-frank in her reply:
-
-"My darling, 'my blind man,' as you call him, continues to exist and to
-charm my husband. But what would you have? It is not that I am lost to
-all sense of humanity, but you can imagine how the presence of this man
-annoys me. He cannot see me, I am nothing to him, and it is necessary
-for me to please----"
-
-"But one may please even those who don't see us. One can try to amuse
-these unfortunates, to make time pass pleasantly for them----"
-
-"You speak as if you possessed some gift in which I am lacking. It is
-only that you like them, and know how to please them----"
-
-"Oh!"
-
-"You succeed in pleasing them! This man who visits us, with whom you
-took lunch, is always asking for you. He never so much as speaks of me.
-And yet it is I who permit him to come!"
-
-"A man who cannot see you in your place at the head of the table, and to
-whom you never give any proof that you are there, may naturally forget
-you."
-
-"You find it all right because he doesn't forget you. He dotes upon you,
-by what George says; he asks for news of you, he longs to hear your
-voice! He annoys me. In fact, child, it was precisely on your account,
-I admit, that I was obliged to turn him away; he was falling in love
-with you. Can you imagine it? You ought to thank me!"
-
-"In love with me! If that were true I should be all the more sorry for
-him, poor man! But he must have heard about me? He knows that I am not
-to be had?"
-
-"He hasn't gone as far as that; he only feels happy in your company.
-When you are not there he misses you. That is all."
-
-"Well, where is the love in that? He is like the wounded men whom I have
-nursed; they were happy in my company; when I went away, I suppose they
-missed me. If I had concluded from that that they were in love with
-me----"
-
-"You didn't conclude it, on your part, but as for them, what do you
-know? Perhaps you broke their hearts!"
-
-"You are romantic and think only of love! Men who have suffered as they
-have, prefer to think of their own comfort, and of those who make them
-comfortable. I knew a nurse seventy years old for whom her patients
-clamored like children. Were they in love with her?"
-
-"That proves nothing. A blind man feels very clearly whether the woman
-near him is one who charms."
-
-"Then he ought also to feel the compassion that he inspires, and that
-does not lead to love."
-
-"Are you uncomfortable in the presence of a blind man?"
-
-"It is an undefinable emotion; my head turns. I lose my self-command."
-
-"You didn't seem to, here."
-
-"One does almost involuntarily the thing that costs the most, if one is
-determined to comfort those whose misfortunes arouse your emotions."
-
-And they talked of other things.
-
-
-
-
-XXXIV
-
-
-Odette would no doubt have forgotten "her" blind man if a visit which
-Mme. de Blauve paid her had not recalled him to mind in the most
-unexpected manner.
-
-Mme. de Blauve, whose calmness had always impressed every one, from the
-time when she was living under the bombardment of Rheims through the
-days in which she had made the sacrifice of her husband, her two sons,
-and, one may say, her daughter, now appeared unnerved. She had grown
-thin; her eyes were sunken; she was evidently suffering.
-
-With her habitual resolution she opened to Odette the purpose of her
-visit. She had heard--it was rumored--that her dear friend, having amply
-and worthily overpassed the period of her widowhood, was purposing--not
-by inclination, but in order to accomplish a great act of charity--to
-become the wife of a blinded officer. People were talking about it. She
-herself had been extremely moved by the news, and all the more because
-she feared that she had incurred a certain responsibility in the matter,
-having probably been one of the first to urge upon the young widow the
-duty of a second marriage.
-
-Odette was amazed. What were people about? Never had she had the
-slightest idea of such a thing. Startled at first, she went on, almost
-laughing, to hear what Mme. de Blauve had to say.
-
-"It is untrue, you say," said Mme. de Blauve; "but, my little friend,
-experience has taught me that there is always a grain of truth at the
-bottom of a wide-spread rumor. Whether good or bad, such plants do not
-grow out of nothing."
-
-Odette told her upon how slight a fact this rumor might possibly have
-been based. She had lunched at Clotilde Avvogade's with a blinded
-officer, and Clotilde insisted that she had pleased him.
-
-"Nothing more would be needed!" said Mme. de Blauve, "and your friend
-has probably told the story all around. It must be so, for I have heard
-the name of the man, the institution where he has been re-educated; I
-even know all about his circumstances; he is a widower without fortune
-of any sort, and father of two little children about whom he feels great
-anxiety."
-
-"Well," said Odette, "for my part I knew nothing of these last
-particulars, and this is surely a proof that my romance has not gone
-very far."
-
-Mme. de Blauve was lost in apologies. Nevertheless, she did not go so
-far as to regret the step she had taken. If it proved to have no reason
-in the present case, an analogous case might arise; she knew Odette's
-susceptibility, the noble impulses of her soul, and it was her duty to
-warn her against impressions and impulses----
-
-"What!" interrupted Odette; "you, madame, whose daughter----"
-
-"Yes, yes, precisely I, 'whose daughter'--It is because my daughter has
-made a marriage--beautiful, surely, from the moral point of view, but,
-after all, a marriage--how shall I say it--somewhat daring, that I
-believe myself to be authorized to say to you: 'My very dear child, be
-careful, reflect!' Understand me; I regret nothing that has occurred; I
-congratulate myself on the happiness which my daughter is assuring to a
-victim of the war, who is a hundred times deserving of it. Let me tell
-you, by way of parenthesis, that my daughter has hope of a child, and I
-trust that God will bring everything out right, although----"
-
-"Although," repeated Odette anxiously.
-
-"Although--oh, the dear child is lacking neither in love nor in
-admiration for her husband, who is a hero; but our poor human nature has
-strange revulsions--I tell you, you alone, in confidence; since my
-daughter has reason for hope of becoming a mother, she feels--alas! it
-is frightful, let me whisper it to you--she feels a sort of apprehension
-at the sight of her husband, whose terrible affliction you know of!-- We
-must, at all costs, prevent her husband having the slightest suspicion
-of the--temporary--feeling that he inspires, and the young wife is
-obliged to put the strongest restraint upon herself in order to show
-nothing. Just how far this incessant constraint is consistent with the
-happy maintenance of her condition, and with hope for its normal
-outcome, who shall say? This is what we are asking ourselves, this is
-our anxiety."
-
-"Oh, dear, dear madame, how sorry I am for you!"
-
-"You understand that I would not wish to have to be sorry for you, in my
-turn, for a reason like this. It was to avoid it that I came here, as
-much humiliated by my apprehensions as I was proud on the day of the
-marriage. You have no plan of the sort, you tell me, my child? So much
-the better! But I have become excessively apprehensive; I am afraid of
-characters like yours, which may be inclined to do too well. Sometimes a
-little pride enters into the good or the noble things that we do. Do you
-understand?"
-
-
-
-
-XXXV
-
-
-Mme. de Blauve had taken her leave with these words, and Odette, still
-breathless at the thought that there could be any question of her
-marrying, a little ruffled, even, remembered only the secret
-discomfiture confessed to by the mother of the poor little bride. It was
-one more cause of horror added to all those of which she was the daily
-witness. Her calamity had doubtless shaken Mme. de Blauve's spirit to
-the point of causing in her mind a sort of hallucination as to the fate
-which might be threatening the young widow. Or else Mme. de Blauve had
-made the most of slight rumors with no basis of truth, as a pretext for
-coming to confess her own anxiety. Or else--a conjecture which barely
-touched Odette's mind--Mme. de Blauve, as she had herself intimated,
-always erring through pride, felt a frightful satisfaction in the
-dangers with which she and her family were perpetually menaced,
-jealously guarding this bitter eminence, lest it might be seized upon by
-others! For one can come even to such a point.
-
-What analogy could there be between the marriage of the little de Blauve
-girl, an ignorant child, with one of the most horribly mutilated of
-soldiers, and an imaginary marriage between her, Odette, who was going
-on to her thirtieth year, with a blinded man who was not disfigured?
-Young girls, women, were marrying blinded men every day; many more of
-them would do so, one must hope! The case might indeed be peculiarly
-delicate for her, a widow still in love with her husband, and who was
-peculiarly sensitive to blindness; but if the case ever occurred it was
-she alone who had the right to judge of it. No one knew either the
-lasting nature of her grief or her personal repugnances; the matter in
-no slightest degree deserved attention.
-
-In fact, at the point that Odette had reached, she could imagine no
-limit to devotion. In the marriages now in question, there was no
-mention of anything that had formerly been called happiness; the only
-thought was of kindliness toward most deserving beings who were
-suffering under the greatest of misfortunes, and the greater their
-misfortune, the greater, it appeared, ought to be the pleasure of
-alleviating it. She did not approve of Mme. de Blauve, if it was she who
-had urged her daughter to a marriage of charity, but she could perfectly
-understand the daughter's having made such a marriage. If a temporary
-check now and then occurred, it was due to a pathological condition
-which would eventually cease. She recalled to mind one of her friends, a
-perfectly well-balanced girl, married to a very fine man whom she
-adored, who had taken a dislike to her husband during the whole period
-of her pregnancy, without in the least knowing why.
-
-A few days later Odette received a letter from Mme. de Calouas, still in
-Surville, alluding to the prospect of her marriage to a blinded officer.
-So the utterly unfounded rumor had made its way to the depths of
-Normandy! And Mme. de Calouas, who was wisdom itself, and utterly
-removed from any suggestion that might have acted upon Mme. de Blauve,
-wrote to her as Mme. de Blauve had spoken: "Yes, dear friend, marry; I
-have never concealed from you that it is almost your duty. But beware of
-an excess of zeal! Take care not to undertake more than a woman of your
-temperament, brought up as you have been, attached to a beloved memory
-as you still are, will be able to endure. Remember that many of us can
-be heroic for a few seconds, a few hours, a few days, but that is very
-different from a whole lifetime."
-
-Odette smiled, not only at the thought of what people were thinking of
-her, but at the solicitude which they expressed for her, and that sort
-of obsession for heroic acts which every one seemed to cherish. Odette
-had not the slightest intention of performing a heroic act. Nothing in
-her character had ever inclined her in that direction. Her heart was
-made for loving. She loved, she was sure that she loved. The one whom
-she loved was her husband--her Jean. She could ill analyze the character
-of the tenderness which at the same time she felt for every suffering
-creature on earth. And that was all. What would they have of her?
-
-
-
-
-XXXVI
-
-
-Nevertheless she continued to be disturbed by the strange rumor which
-had been set afloat, which was still afloat, and she promised herself to
-speak about it to Clotilde, who without doubt had been the cause of its
-diffusion.
-
-On drawing near to the house in which Clotilde lived, she met Lieutenant
-Avvogade guiding his blinded man by the arm. She had not so much as
-thought of avoiding such an encounter.
-
-When the blind man recognized Odette's voice his whole face was
-transfigured. He turned pale; he hardly had courage to speak. But she
-felt the effort with which his closed eyelids were directed toward the
-point in space from which her voice had come; her perfume had been
-wafted to him. This blinded man was looking at her, was seeing her in
-his imagination; perhaps he was seeing her much more beautiful, more
-alluring, than he had dreamed! He had been disturbed because
-opportunities to be with her had no longer been afforded him, and he did
-not know that it was not she herself who had prevented them. But an
-inward instinct, stronger than he had yet known, filled him with ecstasy
-in that moment of the young woman's presence. He inhaled her like a
-flower, he listened to her, was saturated with her. Believing himself to
-be behind the veil which hid the daylight from him, as behind a screen,
-he neglected to keep a watch on himself, to impose constraint upon
-himself. His emotion was evident to those who saw him, and the agitation
-of a man so much to be pitied impressed her profoundly.
-
-Odette told him that she had learned that he had two little children.
-Then the blinded man extended his hand to her; his throat contracted; he
-could not utter a word. Without hesitation Odette took the hand of this
-man, so good-hearted and so wretched, and let her own be enfolded in
-his. Not a word had been added to those alluding to the children, yet
-she felt that she had never heard from human lips such an expression of
-gratitude.
-
- *
- * *
-
-They were there, under the trees of the Square of the United States, one
-of the beauty spots of opulent, worldly Paris, where so many
-conventional words and actions must have been exchanged; and this
-agitated silence, those clasped hands, result of the universal woe,
-seemed to embody as in marble the symbol of a new beauty which effaced
-all that had before been known.
-
-As the blind man made a motion to relinquish her hand, Odette said:
-
-"_Au revoir_, messieurs"; and left them. The blind man remained
-motionless, either because he could not think it possible that she
-should go, or because he waited for his friend, who hesitated to urge
-him to leave the place.
-
- *
- * *
-
-Odette did not go up to Clotilde, even at the risk of permitting her
-lack of protestation to be accepted as acquiescence. She felt herself
-incapable of talking with any one whose heart was not overflowing. She
-did not disdain the sight of her flowers, her preoccupation with
-personal pleasures; she would despise nothing, these were tastes which
-inspired her rather with pity. Toward those who have greatly suffered it
-was not pity that she felt, but _attraction_; an irresistible
-attraction.
-
- *
- * *
-
-She was soon joined by one who greeted her. It was La Villaumer,
-returning from a visit to a sick man in the Rue Bizet. He turned toward
-the two men who were going away and asked Odette:
-
-"Then it is true? They told me----"
-
-"Only one single thing is true," said Odette, "and that is that they
-told you."
-
-"There is only one single thing true," replied La Villaumer, "and that
-is that you feel as imperative a need to do good, as most poor mortals
-of good being done to them. If I had not seen--I should say to you, as
-others will say to you: 'My friend, take care, keep yourself in hand!'
-But I have just seen the face of this man who is deprived of light, and
-who perhaps feels the lack of you more than of the beauty of the light,
-and I tremble-- It seems to me that I see you, my poor dear friend,
-reaching the last stage of an evolution which I have watched as if it
-had been my own. Many will look upon this acme of your self-sacrifice as
-an immolation. But I recall to mind the words that I have so often
-spoken to myself: 'You no longer Count!' The individual is dead--
-Provisionally, but for a time which we cannot estimate, the individual
-is dead-- In fact, you yourself have perceived that you no longer have
-any rights, not even the right to mourn your unending grief. The moment
-has come to mourn more largely, more grandly, with the only grief that
-can save a soul like yours. The only hope of a resurrection lies in
-giving oneself to the common need, and losing oneself in it with love."
-
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-<p style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of You no longer count, by René Boylesve</p>
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-<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: You no longer count</p>
-<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: René Boylesve</p>
-<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Translator: Louise Seymour Houghton</p>
-<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: July 18, 2022 [eBook #68557]</p>
-<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</p>
- <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em; text-align:left'>Produced by: Laura Natal Rodrigues (Images generously made available by Hathi Trust Digital Library.)</p>
-<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK YOU NO LONGER COUNT ***</div>
-
-
-<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
-<img src="images/no_longer_cover.jpg" width="500" alt="" />
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
-<img src="images/no_longer_frontispiece.jpg" width="500" alt="" />
-</div>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-
-<h1><i>YOU</i> NO LONGER<br />
-COUNT</h1>
-
-<h3>(TU N'ES PLUS RIEN!)</h3>
-
-<p><br /><br /></p>
-
-<h4>BY</h4>
-
-<p><br /><br /></p>
-
-<h2>RENÉ BOYLESVE</h2>
-
-<p><br /><br /></p>
-
-<h4>TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH</h4>
-
-<h5>BY</h5>
-
-<h3>LOUISE SEYMOUR HOUGHTON</h3>
-
-<p><br /><br /></p>
-
-<h4>NEW YORK</h4>
-
-<h4>CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS</h4>
-
-<h5>1918</h5>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<h4>CONTENTS</h4>
-<p class="nind">
-CHAPTER <a href="#I">I</a><br />
-CHAPTER <a href="#II">II</a><br />
-CHAPTER <a href="#III">III</a><br />
-CHAPTER <a href="#IV">IV</a><br />
-CHAPTER <a href="#V">V</a><br />
-CHAPTER <a href="#VI">VI</a><br />
-CHAPTER <a href="#VII">VII</a><br />
-CHAPTER <a href="#VIII">VIII</a><br />
-CHAPTER <a href="#IX">IX</a><br />
-CHAPTER <a href="#X">X</a><br />
-CHAPTER <a href="#XI">XI</a><br />
-CHAPTER <a href="#XII">XII</a><br />
-CHAPTER <a href="#XIII">XIII</a><br />
-CHAPTER <a href="#XIV">XIV</a><br />
-CHAPTER <a href="#XV">XV</a><br />
-CHAPTER <a href="#XVI">XVI</a><br />
-CHAPTER <a href="#XVII">XVII</a><br />
-CHAPTER <a href="#XVIII">XVIII</a><br />
-CHAPTER <a href="#XIX">XIX</a><br />
-CHAPTER <a href="#XX">XX</a><br />
-CHAPTER <a href="#XXI">XXI</a><br />
-CHAPTER <a href="#XXII">XXII</a><br />
-CHAPTER <a href="#XXIII">XXIII</a><br />
-CHAPTER <a href="#XXIV">XXIV</a><br />
-CHAPTER <a href="#XXV">XXV</a><br />
-CHAPTER <a href="#XXVI">XXVI</a><br />
-CHAPTER <a href="#XXVII">XXVII</a><br />
-CHAPTER <a href="#XXVIII">XXVIII</a><br />
-CHAPTER <a href="#XXIX">XXIX</a><br />
-CHAPTER <a href="#XXX">XXX</a><br />
-CHAPTER <a href="#XXXI">XXXI</a><br />
-CHAPTER <a href="#XXXII">XXXII</a><br />
-CHAPTER <a href="#XXXIII">XXXIII</a><br />
-CHAPTER <a href="#XXXIV">XXXIV</a><br />
-CHAPTER <a href="#XXXV">XXXV</a><br />
-CHAPTER <a href="#XXXVI">XXXVI</a></p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<h4><i>YOU</i> NO LONGER COUNT</h4>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<h4><a id="I">I</a></h4>
-
-<p>
-From the swoon into which the sudden, agonizing shock had thrown her,
-her soul escaped, shook itself free, as the mind shakes off a nightmare.
-There is first a sensation of relief from discomfort, then a cheering
-sense of safety, and one slips contentedly into a half-slumber. Then it
-all begins again, for one no longer believes that it answers to any
-reality.
-</p>
-<p>
-Was she still asleep? Was it memory, was it imagination that unrolled
-before her vision pictures of the past which yet her musings had never
-till then evoked, and which suddenly presented themselves with annoying
-vividness? There were whisperings, murmuring voices in the next room.
-She was aware of them, yet to the unwonted sounds she paid no attention;
-the gentle, persistent pressure of an invisible hand turned back her
-thoughts to days gone by.
-</p>
-<p>
-A hushed step upon the carpet, a finger questioning her pulse, no more
-disturbed her than the familiar cry of the huckster in the street. She
-did not wonder: "What, am I ill? Are they anxious about me? Why am I in
-bed, in broad daylight, I so young, so unused to illness of any kind?"
-She was recalling a certain time, days that seemed far remote, a period
-of her life that seemed to have been acted before her eyes, like a play
-in the theatre.
-</p>
-<p>
-A summer month of one of the previous years. She saw again the last days
-in her suburban home, just outside of Paris, the sloping garden and the
-vista through the leafage over far-distant hills, splendid and ethereal.
-Every one was getting ready for the summer holiday; some of the men were
-going to the training-camps. What a world of talk! What discussions with
-friends who had been invited to the country for an afternoon of
-farewells! They were a world by themselves&mdash;young, alert, fond of
-pleasure, and of all things beautiful and adventurous, care-free, and
-charming. The oldest of the men was M. de la Villaumer, whose hair was
-beginning to turn gray, but who enjoyed himself only among kindly faces.
-Several were artists&mdash;musicians or painters. They loved the beautiful
-things of life and that life of the intellect which easily adapts itself
-to the beautiful. Love was king in their circle, a love rather kindly
-than passionate, whose ravages they had learned how to conceal. Yet many
-admirable couples were found among them. Odette Jacquelin and her
-husband were always cited as the most enamoured pair of the group. After
-them came Clotilde and George Avvogade, who cooed like turtle-doves, but
-were lovers only "for a curtain-raiser," it used to be said. Rose
-Misson, whom they called "good Rose," Simone de Prans, Germaine Le
-Gault, were all women who adored their husbands and asked for no other
-happiness, having no idea of anything else than happiness.
-</p>
-<p>
-Why, they used to ask, was Jean Jacquelin an officer of reserves? What
-was the sense of that biennial war-game for a chap who had nothing
-military in him, whether by tradition, education, or belief? The old
-father had made a point of it, because he held to the ineradicable
-prejudices of his time. As for Jean himself, he made light of it; he was
-a young fellow well on the way to make a fortune and give Odette all the
-luxuries that in their circle were considered not superfluities, but
-things indispensable. It never occurred to him that any other purpose
-could seriously occupy a man's mind. Without entering into the thousand
-and one interests of certain of his more cultivated friends who were
-given to reasoning and theorizing, he simply found that the uniform of a
-sublieutenant was becoming, and that, when he was obliged to wear it, it
-was simply an opportunity to make himself fit; physical fatigue was
-nothing to him; he might be inclined to think the Grand Manœuvres a
-superannuated exercise; he might even smile at them and amuse himself by
-enumerating the blunders of such and such a commander; but something
-always kept him from ever making light of the thing itself. For that
-matter, being a reserve officer was perhaps one of the many whims of
-society, but it was what is called decent; in certain circles it was
-done. So he let them talk and harangue, opposing no arguments but
-continuing to be a reserve officer, carrying through his period of
-instruction when he was called.
-</p>
-<p>
-This time the young wife had gone with him as far as Tours, to be with
-him a few hours longer and after that to receive his letters more
-promptly. How long the time had seemed, all alone in the Hôtel de
-l'Univers! And yet she had a pretty room! She had amused herself with
-piquing public curiosity on the Rue Nationale, with her little
-walking-suit of the latest cut, and her simple canoe hat&mdash;quite the
-"Parisienne on a holiday"&mdash;and the elegance of her manners, at once
-independent and circumspect, as were all her ways. It was generally
-agreed that she was pretty. Who was not asking questions about her in
-the hotel, at the restaurant? It had amused her to see a family of
-tourists inventing pretexts for changing places at their small table,
-this one in order to face her, that one in order that the grown-up son
-might not face her. And how they had stared at her!
-</p>
-<p>
-Telegrams had come from the sublieutenant. "Be at Pont-de-Piles
-to-morrow, darling," or "Ligueil, such a day for lunch," or "Loches,
-Hôtel de France, after breaking up." And she had sometimes waited a
-long while in wayside inns or beside dusty highways.
-</p>
-<p>
-Conversations at table began to come back to her. Every one had been
-talking of the manœuvres, discussing the names of generals, the
-communes that were being occupied. The presence of the President of the
-Republic was an event in the countryside. There had been old men who
-would consent to speak of nothing nearer than 1870; others, of fewer
-years, would recall the magnificent condition of the reconstituted army
-at the time of Gambetta's death, or at the period of the Schnaebele
-affair, when the country was so near to seeing it in action. A politician
-of the neighborhood&mdash;not more stupid, after all, than most of
-his contemporaries&mdash;rubicund, his eyes bloodshot at the end of dinner,
-had fallen foul of all these memories, regrets, would-be warlike
-emotions, and turned them upside down like eggs in a frying-pan.
-According to him, war was the scourge of bygone ages. France, the nation
-of progress, still consented to carry on a semblance of it, by way of
-facilitating necessary transitions, but it was a mere play of protocols,
-a final concession to the past. War was destructive; modern society was
-interested wholly in production; to believe in war was to turn back the
-clock of history. For that matter, every well-informed person was aware
-that scientific means of destruction had become such that a fratricidal
-conflict had been rendered impossible, im-pos-si-ble! One must be an
-idiot not to perceive that everything would be reduced to fragments in
-the twinkling of an eye. The manœuvres! ah, you made him laugh with
-your manœuvres! The manœuvres were no more like war than a toy pistol
-was like a German mortar. War, should it ever break out, would not last
-the time it would take to concentrate your army corps; the first of two
-adversaries who should be half a day ahead would bring the other to cry
-mercy.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Well, say," some one had interrupted, "it wouldn't be a bad plan, then,
-to do one's best to get that half-day's advance?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Useless! Count your population, consider your aspirations. Think of the
-finances. Finances! There is not a country of great armaments that could
-maintain war for six weeks, nor one that could even endure three years'
-preparation for war.... Ask the great banks, which have the world in
-leading-strings, emperors and kings as well as peoples; don't deceive
-yourselves; war is impossible, im-pos-si-ble! We are witnessing, with
-your manœuvres, the final deeds of a prehistoric age.... Turn your eyes
-to the future, gentlemen, and all this bedizened and vociferous gang
-will seem to you like children's toys!"
-</p>
-<p>
-"But Germany&mdash;the militant party&mdash;the Pangermanists?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Germany is a pacific nation, industrial and commercial, which uses its
-cannon as an advertising dodge. What we lack&mdash;don't you know?&mdash;is
-precisely business sense. And Germany has business sense. The military
-party? A drop of water in a lake. The Pangermanists? Advertising men in
-the pay of the national industry. In the first place, the Emperor, as
-every one says who has seen him near at hand, is a secret friend of
-France ... and I will add, the most republican of us all. Socialism,
-that's his enemy! ... The army that we need is not a rabble of soldiers,
-but a group of men bent upon keeping the peace. Humanity is on the
-march&mdash;it can never be repeated too often&mdash;toward a future of
-liberty, equality, fraternity. Ah, you must reckon with economic rivalry;
-that is the law of life."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Precisely so."
-</p>
-<p>
-Memory, quickened no doubt by her feverish condition, brought back to
-the young wife with extraordinary precision, even to the least of them,
-these utterances overheard at her solitary little table. True, she had
-amused herself with repeating them to the sublieutenant, her
-husband&mdash;she even recalled the moment&mdash;he was splashing in his
-bath, soaping himself, on his return from the manœuvres. He had laughed
-with all his heart, for when Jean had come back from the manœuvres he was
-another man from what he had been when going to them. Only a few days of
-presence with the corps, among his military comrades, had transformed
-him or, more correctly, had restored him to his normal disposition; or,
-in any case, had made him victor over the indolence with which he
-usually replied to the fine talkers of Paris.
-</p>
-<p>
-As for Odette, she had attached not the slightest importance to any of
-these ideas, by whomever enunciated. Brought up in the one religion of
-happiness, she held that happiness through love was the sole boon to be
-asked of fate. What was the use of arguing? Why think about calamity?
-Did not certain of her friends, those most reputed for intelligence,
-insist that it was the honor of civilized man not even to think of acts
-of barbarism, that man raised himself in dignity as he neglected to
-prepare himself to make use of arms? Among many other sayings the
-oft-repeated, if somewhat cynical, pronouncement of M. de la Villaumer
-came back to her: "We are not in a condition to make war. We are unaware
-how far we are not in a condition to make war, because we do not in the
-least know what war is. If war is made upon us, as there is reason to
-fear&mdash;as well the deluge."
-</p>
-<p>
-And yet, that day, on coming out of his bath, Jean had become so wrought
-up in talking of the army that he had almost made his wife afraid! She
-had thrown her arms around him as he wrapped himself in his bathrobe,
-saying:
-</p>
-<p>
-"Don't talk so, Jean! Oh, imagine, if even you were to be so much as
-disfigured by an ugly wound! Your lovely eyes, my darling! Your
-beautiful teeth!&mdash;No, that would drive me wild!"
-</p>
-<p>
-And because he had laughed, laughed heartily, so as completely to close
-his lovely eyes, she had at once thought of something else.
-</p>
-<p>
-Without ever thinking of going even slightly into subjects of this sort,
-she had been buoyed up by a great credulity, born of optimism; not,
-indeed, as to war, which interested her not the least, but as to Jean,
-who alone was of consequence, and who, as a "reserve officer," she was
-sure could not be called to take part in a campaign. It was an artless
-idea, rooted in her mind by the pressure of her exuberant happiness. For
-nothing in the world would she have tried to get at the root of it, lest
-the result should prove uncomfortable. It was the same self-indulgent,
-mental indolence which, for example, had withheld her from asking
-herself the meaning of words that dropped from her husband's lips:
-</p>
-<p>
-"Well, here I am, attached to the covering troops. You and I will not be
-able to go into Touraine." Well, they would not be able to go into
-Touraine; they would go somewhere else.
-</p>
-<p>
-Then memory carried her on to the beginning of last season, at the
-seashore. The weather had been so fine! Jean had been so lucky as to get
-his vacation from his commercial house by the 15th of July; they had
-gone to Surville. The Hotel de Normandie was already well filled, the
-Casino was crowded, sports were humming, the Little Theatre was
-exhibiting Parisian vedettes, a row of autos was sending vile smells up
-to the terrace where every one sat of afternoons imbibing soft drinks
-and roasting in the sun to the music of the gypsy orchestra; elegant
-young men were displaying khaki costumes, martingales, and broad-brimmed
-hats. In the evening every one had danced the tango in the hall. The
-great stir of the watering-place had begun&mdash;futile doings without
-number, comings and goings, from bar to bar, from casino to casino, from
-luncheon to luncheon.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Oh, say, are you coming? Look here, Jean! Aren't you tiresome, always
-reading despatches! One would say that you were expecting something to
-happen. What concern is it of yours?"
-</p>
-<p>
-Every evening, on their way to the great hall of the Casino through the
-gallery that looked out upon the sea, whether going to the theatre or
-the music-hall, or simply intending to sit down and drink their coffee
-or their camomile, they had found a crowd of, men in tuxedos standing
-before the frame that hung on the right of the door, on which despatches
-from Paris and quotations of the Bourse were posted. Odette could still
-hear the reproaches she had addressed to her husband as he returned with
-unwonted seriousness from reading them.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Well, what about it all?" she had asked. Jean had kept back some of the
-more sensational news, but one evening he had added:
-</p>
-<p>
-"There is an ultimatum to Serbia."
-</p>
-<p>
-"What of that?"
-</p>
-<p>
-Nothing more had been said. But Jean had risen twice from his chair to
-speak to men whom he knew, conferring with them in the lobby, then
-returning to his wife.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Oh, nothing will happen yet," he had said.
-</p>
-<p>
-This had gone on for several evenings. It had become necessary to
-explain some things. Then Odette herself had become anxious; she would
-go with her husband to read the despatches; she would go to them by
-herself in the daytime. But the number of readers was increasing, and
-the silence, or the few words that would escape from the group, troubled
-her; she would go down to the beach to read the despatches at the
-<i>Figaro</i> kiosk. Threats of war? ... European war? ... War? ... No,
-surely that was not likely. The idea was finding extreme difficulty in
-penetrating people's skulls. Despatch was succeeding despatch, twice a
-day, now reassuring, now disturbing; but whenever one contained matter
-for alarm, it was always better founded than that of the previous day.
-</p>
-<p>
-Odette had at last asked her husband:
-</p>
-<p>
-"Well, if by any chance there should be war, would that affect
-you&mdash;yourself?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Don't be in a hurry, my darling; war has not yet been declared."
-</p>
-<p>
-"But&mdash;but&mdash;if it should be?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Well, if it should be, I am a reserve officer."
-</p>
-<p>
-"What is the reserve? Is it when there are no more active soldiers?"
-</p>
-<p>
-He had kissed her, laughing. Not long before a relative of one of the
-most influential bankers in Paris had declared, at a neighboring table,
-that "All was arranged!" But the next morning a rumor had been spread at
-the Casino that the news was so discouraging it had not been posted.
-Jean had gone to ascertain. The rumor had been confirmed. Then he had
-said to his wife: "It is time to take precautions. Listen, my darling, I
-shall go to Paris this evening. I will set my business in order, I will
-see La Villaumer, who knows everything, and Avvogade, who lunches with
-the President of the Council. I shall learn what can be learned, and I
-shall try to return by night."
-</p>
-<p>
-Once again she could hear all these words, could see again his slightest
-actions, could imagine La Villaumer, so far&mdash;seeing, and Clotilde
-Avvogade, surrounded by her flowers in her almost too delicious
-apartment, making a face when she heard her husband talking of
-disagreeable things. She lived over again the sad night that she had
-passed alone, sleepless, and the bat that had flown into her room like a
-little devil, and the faces next morning at the Casino, on the beach,
-everywhere! And the departures, the almost empty hotel, ever since that
-evening when she had been expecting her husband&mdash;the evening when he
-did not come!
-</p>
-<p>
-He did not come because he had found in Paris an order to "join
-immediately for a period of instruction." He had telegraphed to her:
-"Don't leave; all will be well; will write."
-</p>
-<p>
-A period of instruction! So suddenly decided upon! What did that mean?
-Was it war? She had asked the people around her. Some had seemed stunned
-by her question; others had said: "A period of instruction? Nothing is
-more usual."
-</p>
-<p>
-"As a matter of fact, they are mobilizing," some one had remarked. A
-gentleman had said: "No, madame, mobilization cannot be other than
-general. It may be that certain officers have been summoned
-individually, but that is merely a measure of precaution; the situation
-is evidently strained."
-</p>
-<p>
-"But why should he be called and not others? He is only an officer of
-reserves."
-</p>
-<p>
-"That depends upon the locality of his depot, no doubt. Do you know
-where it is?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"I know that he formerly belonged to the Eleventh Corps, but I think he
-has been passed over to Nancy."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Covering troops. Ah&mdash;ah!"
-</p>
-<p>
-"That is it precisely, sir; he is attached to the covering troops."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Oh, very well! Oh, very well!"
-</p>
-<p>
-She had found another woman in the same case as herself, or nearly so.
-But the husband of this one, who also had been individually called, was
-a captain in active service, and in garrison at Pont-à-Mousson.
-</p>
-<p>
-"That one," Odette had said to herself; "it is all over with him."
-</p>
-<p>
-The difference had seemed to be to her own advantage, and her courage
-had risen correspondingly. Jean was only a sublieutenant; he belonged
-only to the reserves. She was absorbed in compassion for the other
-woman, so different in character from herself, bravely prepared for the
-war and ready to sacrifice everything; who had said: "I regret that my
-boys are not grown; they would be so many more defenders of the
-country."
-</p>
-<p>
-Odette had been as ill prepared as possible for such an utterance.
-Everything about it surprised her; she could not understand it in the
-least.
-</p>
-<p>
-A lady had arrived from Paris, the wife of a deputy. She had said to any
-who would listen:
-</p>
-<p>
-"I may as well tell you; mobilization will be ordered to-morrow."
-</p>
-<p>
-The weather had been ideally fine, though there had been a suggestion of
-thunderstorms in the west. Children were playing on the beach; the sea,
-under a cloudless sky, was calm even to torpor. One could see Havre
-stretched along in the sunlight, like a greyhound panting with heat; in
-the distance were noble passenger-ships, and tiny sails apparently
-motionless. Never had the sky, the sea, the land, appeared so much to
-long for peace; never, perhaps, had the joy of existence been more
-imperious. Whatever might be the subjects of alarm, everything cried
-aloud that to believe in coming misfortune was impossible.
-</p>
-<p>
-The next day, Saturday, August I, Odette, distressed by vague talk that
-gave no definite information, had gone to the post with a letter to her
-dear Jean. She had addressed it to Paris, since she had no knowledge
-where to reach him. It was about four o'clock. She had seen a group
-forming before the mayor's office, and the town drummer arriving, with a
-long retinue of street urchins at his heels. The drummer was a tall
-youth, lean and wan, grave with a gravity not usual in a town drummer
-who has to announce that a little, long-haired, bright-gray dog is lost.
-The crowd had gathered around him with frantic eagerness, while he
-executed his preliminary performance. Then, drawing a paper from his
-pocket, he had unfolded it and read at the top of his voice, without the
-slightest change of countenance:
-</p>
-<p>
-"General mobilization is declared! The first day of mobilization is
-Sunday, August 2. No man may set out without first consulting the bill
-which will be immediately posted." And the drummer had beaten the ban.
-</p>
-<p>
-With a single impulse, as if under orders, the crowd, mainly composed of
-young men, had raised their hats, crying: "<i>Vive la France</i>!" One lad
-had said: "<i>Vive la guerre</i>!" And the drummer had departed to repeat
-his message at another crossroads.
-</p>
-<p>
-It had seemed a perfectly simple event, something almost usual, at the
-junction of these four streets of the little town. A deed done; the
-pattering of dispersing feet; silence! And this simple act, repeated
-hundreds of thousands of times at this same hour, was the most tragic
-alarm-cry in the history of man, reverberating at the same moment of
-time over all the terrestrial globe. Little noise, almost no words, and
-all these men, raising their hats to pronounce a word suddenly become
-sacred, had made the sacrifice of their lives. Imagination loses itself
-in picturing the multitude of points upon this earth on which a like
-gift of self had just been made. For if the man who goes hopes to be
-spared, he who learns that he is called to go, for the moment gives
-himself, body and soul.
-</p>
-<p>
-Almost instantaneously the church-bells had broken out with the tocsin,
-as if the town had been on fire. Every church; then, on the hills,
-throughout the countryside, the same signal of distress spread like an
-epidemic. It had been too recent to be utterly terrifying; many heard it
-and did not think. No one realized the tragedy to which these humble
-little bells were sorrowfully calling the world. It is the salvation of
-men that they always limit their thoughts to the most immediate duty.
-The thought of a pair of shoes, of the place where one's <i>livret</i> is
-hidden, of saying good-by to this one or that one, checks the vertigo
-which the enormity of the event might well produce.
-</p>
-<p>
-At first Odette had felt oppressed and wept like a nervous child who
-hears a sudden alarm. She had been unable, for her tears, to see the
-letter-box into which she dropped that letter to Jean which no longer
-signified anything and would doubtless never reach him to whom it was
-addressed. And all around her, at the doors, in the streets, on the
-beach, at the hotel, women had been weeping.
-</p>
-<p>
-Odette had gone up to her room. She had said to her maid:
-</p>
-<p>
-"What about you, Amelia?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Me? Mine must join on the second day. I thought of asking Madame if I
-might take this evening's train; to-morrow there will be no room for
-civilians. That way I might kiss him good-by&mdash;&mdash;"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Go, Amelia."
-</p>
-<p>
-She had seated herself at the window that looked out upon the
-flower-garden, the deserted tennis-courts, the sea. She was alone. There
-was nothing for her to do but think and wait.
-</p>
-<p>
-Everything around her had seemed stunned, congealed. It was as if there
-was no longer any one anywhere. The smoke of three great transatlantics
-in the Havre roadstead&mdash;sole perceptible movement&mdash;was rising
-straight up in the motionless air. A few fair-weather clouds on the
-horizon were turning a fleecy rose color. One or two fishing-smacks, all
-sails spread, were idling as on a lake. In ordinary times one would have
-said: "What a glorious sunset we shall have!" And Odette thought: "The
-men in those boats, at this moment, <i>do not know</i>!"
-</p>
-<p>
-An involuntary change had instantaneously taken place in her mind. She
-had transported herself to a time like that which still reigned in the
-boats, a time when "<i>They did not know</i>!" A time when there was
-nothing unusual in the world, when life, smiling, had sung to her, when
-the hope of a yet lovelier life had lulled thought to sleep. That
-time&mdash;already so far distant&mdash;was only an hour ago. And
-everything had been changed&mdash;changed as nothing had ever been
-changed before. Were they living on the same planet as in that former
-time? Who could have dreamed, at that time, of what was taking place
-now? She tried to foresee the morrow, but she could imagine
-nothing&mdash;nothing. Only La Villaumer's saying came back to her: "We
-are not in condition.... As well the deluge!"
-</p>
-<p>
-And for all that, deep down, very deep within herself, she had not at
-all believed in the horror that had come.
-</p>
-<p>
-She had remained sitting there, at her window, until the hour for
-dinner, living over her past life with Jean&mdash;thrilling with his first
-caresses. She had never loved any one but Jean before her marriage;
-since her marriage, only him. It was no longer the war which seemed to
-her unimaginable, but the power of her love for Jean. And instead of
-imagining chaos, her natural inclination had impelled her to summon up
-the loveliest pictures of the past. She had smiled, her body had
-relaxed, her fingers had quivered as if in anticipation of a caress, and
-in the empty air her lips had made the motion of a kiss.
-</p>
-<p>
-A man's voice on the balcony next her own had said:
-</p>
-<p>
-"It is absurd to think of nature as taking note of our affairs; but just
-for curiosity look at that sky: I have never seen anything like it."
-</p>
-<p>
-The words had been spoken to some one in the next room, who drew near to
-the window, and she had heard a woman's voice exclaiming, with a moan or
-in desperate appeal, such as one seldom hears.
-</p>
-<p>
-Odette had risen, and she too had looked out. She had never been
-superstitious, and was especially not inclined to doleful
-prognostications. She had always been happy; her life had flowed along,
-so to speak, like one continued festival. Being alone in her room, she
-did not speak; but all her flesh quivered.
-</p>
-<p>
-It may well be that similar phenomena occur sometimes without attracting
-our attention; yet, on that day, to three persons occupying neighboring
-rooms in a hotel, to others also, who had spoken of it at dinner or in
-the evening, that sunset appeared utterly unusual, and such as might
-justify all gossiping conjectures as to the relations of the earth with
-the marvellous changes, stupendous in their nature, which take place in
-the vault of heaven. Above the quiet sea the whole horizon was a fiery
-furnace, blazing with intense fervency, across which were spread, like
-fragments of slashed flesh, long clouds of a livid bluish red. Before
-long the intense fire died down, as if all the combustible matter had
-been devoured by the fury of the flames. Then the disk of the sun
-appeared in outline, like a gigantic blood-blister, like a crystal bowl
-so overful that the viscous liquid was escaping by some fissure and
-spreading to right and left into a marsh, a lake, an ocean of human
-serum, flowing in every direction toward rivers with contracted banks,
-which upheaved against it a formidable tide. Suddenly the sinister
-blister burst of itself and was absorbed in the mass of burning matter,
-or of thick waters, heavy and foul, and became thin streams like those
-that trickle from a slaughter-house.
-</p>
-<p>
-No, truly, it was no vertigo of the imagination, no hallucination of the
-vision, no compliant romance; it was a real picture, symbolic of aspect,
-preceding, like an inadequate vignette, the flaming pages of the great
-book of history that had just been opened.
-</p>
-<p>
-In Odette's soul it had been like a curtain that falls before a new act;
-once the curtain is raised, one's expectation is fixed; no more light
-comedy, no more pleasant extravaganzas, no more ballet! The tragedy is
-about to begin.
-</p>
-<p>
-With a bound her fevered memory overleaped several months of war. They
-had entered an atmosphere of fire; it was hard, but they endured it.
-Alsace: a breath of wild hope, penultimate moment of Old France;
-Belgium: enthusiasm first, horror afterward; alliances:
-prognostications, so-called assured, as to the "final result"; invasion:
-a march to the scaffold in which the condemned cling to a hope of the
-improbable; the Marne: the improbable realized, for which no one had
-dared to hope; the enemy grappled with and hurled back; the fall of
-Antwerp, of which so many folk, who will appear again in the end, insist
-that "it has not the least importance."
-</p>
-<p>
-Odette had received letters from Jean. How could Jean be in such a fiery
-furnace? And how had she been able to endure the thought? But many
-things once believed impossible were beginning to be recognized as
-possible. Jean was enduring his fatigues, and everything in him was
-taking on a new character. She had found him not such as he had been on
-his return from the manœuvres, but a man exalted above himself, who
-seemed to have transcended his own height, however he might try to
-appear simply his usual charming self. She could divine his sufferings,
-and yet she felt him to be happy. Odette had even come to think: "How
-little he needs me!" She had returned to Paris that she might receive
-his letters more promptly. But he appeared no longer to have any notion
-of time. That was because he was no longer master of his time. Odette
-was always writing to him as to an isolated being, who could do with
-himself as he liked. Without intending it, he would reply to her letters
-as if he were one who had no individual existence, a man carried away by
-something greater than himself, something which alone counted. She had
-not yet been able to understand, and she had gently reproached Jean for
-neglecting her.
-</p>
-<p>
-And yet Odette's perpetual anxiety had been gradually growing less; she
-was already gaining confidence. Jean had passed through so many dangers!
-She had begun to believe in a possible immunity. How many men had been
-in the midst of wars through all a long life, and yet had died in bed,
-surrounded by their families!
-</p>
-<p>
-Then, suddenly, one fine morning in the second fortnight of September
-Odette, still in bed, had heard the door-bell at an hour when seldom any
-one came to the front door. Amelia, her own maid, who had answered the
-bell, had rushed, breathless, to her mistress:
-</p>
-<p>
-"Madame! it is Madame de Prans who insists upon seeing Madame!"
-</p>
-<p>
-From her bed Odette had called out: "Come in, Simone, come right in!"
-</p>
-<p>
-Simone de Prans had brought tidings of Jean. She had received them from
-dear Pierrot, her husband, who had been sent to Paris for twenty-four
-hours on a mission.
-</p>
-<p>
-Tidings of Jean? But, to begin with, they were satisfactory?
-How?&mdash;satisfactory? Well, she could say that they were not bad. But
-"not bad" is not good! No, but one must not exaggerate things. In short,
-half-admissions, denials, returns upon the question, openings left for
-hope, equivocal utterances, embarrassments of which Odette soon ceased
-to be the dupe. And she had had courage to say, suddenly:
-</p>
-<p>
-"My little Simone, you dare not acknowledge that the greatest of
-calamities has befallen me."
-</p>
-<p>
-It was at that moment of half-wakefulness during which all these
-previous events had passed before her memory, that Odette suddenly came
-broad awake. She uttered a great cry, and every one in the next room
-came running.
-</p>
-<p>
-But now, after all, Odette refused to believe the dreadful fact which
-she herself had divined! She declared that it could not be, it was "too
-unjust."
-</p>
-<p>
-Why should Jean be killed and not another? With fierce anger she
-revolted against her lot, crying out and struggling in her bed like a
-mad woman.
-</p>
-<p>
-"It is not true! it is not true! you all have a grudge against me! you
-are jealous of me because of Jean! ... Jean, my Jean, I shall yet
-embrace you, or there is no God!"&mdash;until suddenly, vociferating and
-shrieking, she again lost consciousness.
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<h4><a id="II">II</a></h4>
-
-<p>
-Her doctor was there, in a major's uniform. They had found him as by a
-miracle: he happened to be at home, at the telephone, the very moment
-when Amelia called him. As he could not remain he gave his instructions
-to Simone de Prans, to Germaine Le Gault, to Rose Misson, the last two,
-notified by Simone, having dressed in all haste and rushed to her. The
-door-bell was constantly ringing. The news of Odette's affliction was
-spreading through Paris. True, the war had already caused many
-bereavements, but among this intimate group, Lieutenant Jacquelin was
-the first to fall.
-</p>
-<p>
-Odette, recovering her senses, found herself in the position of an
-exceptional victim among her friends, both women and men.
-</p>
-<p>
-But the women, while encompassing her with compassion, had in their
-eyes, their voices, something other than bereavement usually inspires.
-When they tried to utter consoling words, all, without exception, spoke
-of "pride," of the "honor" which was reflected upon Odette. Odette
-accepted the words as a part of the phraseology of condolence; but she
-considered only one thing&mdash;Jean no longer existed. Her Jean, her
-lover, her happiness, her preoccupation, her days, her nights, her
-revery of yesterday, her hope for to-morrow; Jean, caresses, kisses,
-tenderness, sweetness, perfume, foolishness and wisdom, the beloved
-master and yet the child, to be cradled in her arms; Jean&mdash;a
-thousand times more than her own life&mdash;was no longer numbered among
-men! She could see him again, from head to foot, in the minutest
-physical details, and in the same moment she was certain that he was no
-longer anything other than a phantom; that never again her arms of flesh
-would press to her his flesh, that her lips would never again kiss his
-lips. Tears did not come in the torrents that bring solace to the
-sharpest griefs. The period of yielding to a cruel fate, when one pities
-oneself, had not come to her. Rebellion still persisted. Odette raged,
-uttered bitter words. The honeyed soothings of her friends only
-exasperated her. Other friends were continually coming up to see her.
-She fell into hysterics. The doctor had gone. The most determined of
-those present, "good" Rose Misson and Mme. de Blauve, a woman who
-inspired respect, took upon themselves to turn all the others out of the
-room and to close the front door against every one.
-</p>
-<p>
-Rose Misson was a little woman, plump and mild, whose husband, some
-fifteen years older than herself, and free of all military obligation,
-had entered the service as chauffeur at the beginning of the war. Misson
-was somewhat criticised for this step. Therefore Rose, who felt the
-power of public opinion, was full of admiration of the lot of her friend
-Odette. Private griefs are nothing in comparison with the special
-consciousness which public opinion arouses in us. Notwithstanding her
-real love for him, at the present moment Rose would have preferred her
-husband dead rather than ill appreciated. Rose's sentiment with regard
-to her friend might have been thus expressed:
-</p>
-<p>
-"Yes, my dear, your grief is immense; your existence as a wife is
-shattered. But everybody feels that your lot is beautiful. You will grow
-greater among us all, will eclipse us, each and every one. From this day
-you have gained universal veneration; your name is pronounced with
-reverence; you are changed in our eyes; your presence brings even to us
-a meaning which we never knew before; the memory of your husband, his
-glorious name, is something august which is penetrating a circle in
-which such a quality has never been known."
-</p>
-<p>
-Rose said nothing of all this to her friend, because the language of
-their circle did not lend itself to such thoughts; perhaps also, even
-while thinking them, she had no wish to utter them.
-</p>
-<p>
-For the first time since the outbreak of war Odette did not ask for the
-evening paper. To read the news&mdash;the <i>communiqué</i>? How
-indifferent she was to all that! There was nothing more for her to
-learn. Her husband was dead; for her the war was ended. The war had been
-him, anxiety for his special fate. Him disappeared, what did the rest
-matter?
-</p>
-<p>
-And the sense of nothingness which had seized her by the throat that
-morning touched her again, more glacial than before. Nothing! No longer
-anything! Yes, the war was an unheard-of misfortune; but the war had
-captivated one like a drama of unequalled interest. The drama might go
-on henceforth; she would not go to witness it. She had gone to it only
-for one actor, who, having played his part, had disappeared. She too
-would disappear.
-</p>
-<p>
-Odette slept and spoke as in a dream. She fell into delirium; insisted
-on going with her husband, saying: "<i>If I had known</i>, I would not have
-let you go one step." He seemed to reply to her, alluding to a grave
-wound which the commandant had received. She would repeat: "The
-commandant's leg? ... Oh, let them touch you once, you! I am here.... I
-am here to care for you, my love...." And she awoke with a start.
-</p>
-<p>
-"He is dead, Rose! Ah, Rose, how fortunate you are!"
-</p>
-<p>
-"But my husband is fifty years old, Odette!"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Oh, if my husband had only been sixty!"
-</p>
-<p>
-Simone de Prans and Mme. de Blauve came again in the afternoon.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Your husband, Odette, fell like a hero; there is no more beautiful
-death."
-</p>
-<p>
-"There is no beautiful death."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Yes, there is!"
-</p>
-<p>
-"It is easy for you to talk."
-</p>
-<p>
-"No, Odette, you don't consider that everything is changed."
-</p>
-<p>
-"One's heart, too?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Yes, one's heart, too. Many among us pass for hard-hearted and inhuman,
-but everything now appears from another point of view."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Love is always love."
-</p>
-<p>
-Odette, whose sense of hearing was extremely acute, overheard a
-low-voiced conversation in which Simone was saying how well her dear
-Pierrot was looking, and she swooned again.
-</p>
-<p>
-The rest of the day was only one lamentation, an inarticulate and
-continuous moaning.
-</p>
-<p>
-The following days were no better. The physician dreaded meningitis.
-</p>
-<p>
-Human beings are often weak in the face of great catastrophes when they
-are governed only by their natural sentiments. Yet Rose, who was in all
-things natural, remained completely devoted to Odette.
-</p>
-<p>
-"It is easier," said Mme. de Blauve, "to nurse a gravely wounded man
-than a woman distracted with grief, for whom there is nothing to do, to
-whom there is nothing to say."
-</p>
-<p>
-The first two days of Odette's grief were as nothing in comparison with
-those that followed. She uttered no sound except to moan; she fell into
-delirious slumbers, had hours of furious insomnia, nightmares,
-hallucinations, attacks of hysterics. At last came the period of
-confidences, with torrents of tears.
-</p>
-<p>
-Among Odette's friends, some had not been pleased because they had not
-been admitted to her room the first day; others were forgetting
-everything in their dominant desire to obtain a place as nurse in a
-hospital. Some of these, having succeeded in compassing their wishes,
-came at last, and were not denied entrance to the sick-room, by reason
-of the costume that they wore. At first it seemed as if they might harm
-Odette by the lamentable scenes which they described. These nurses
-delighted in employing new, technical words, which they had taken pains
-to learn by heart, like so many schoolgirls. But Odette would murmur: "All
-your unhappy ones, with their surgical operations&mdash;they are alive,
-after all." And she would think to herself: "Mine is dead." What answer
-could be made to that?
-</p>
-<p>
-Odette received heaps of letters, whose eloquence overwhelmed without
-touching her. She deemed all their expressions exaggerated, and yet she
-could not say that they rang false; they spoke of France, of glory and
-honor; hardly did they make allusion to her love, which to her was all.
-</p>
-<p>
-She was beginning to get up, to come and go about her apartment. It made
-things worse. Every place, every article, reminded her of Jean. He used
-to sit in that chair; he had loved to play with that little ornament.
-Before his photographs, in the drawing-room, she succumbed once more.
-Here he was in tennis-costume, so graceful, so lithe, so beautiful;
-there in house dress, that velvet jacket that she had so often encircled
-with her arms. She would walk through the rooms trying to breathe the
-faint odors of a perfume which he might have left there. She would sink
-down upon the divan where once there had been room for him.... And she
-started with a sudden thrill when the shadow of Amelia formed a
-halo-surrounded image against the fixed curtain of the glass door. In
-the old days, when he came in, a great shadow would spread thus behind
-the yellow silk, and suddenly his tall form would rise above the
-curtain, and his kind smile would appear through the glass.... Then she
-would listen for the sound of a key in the door. No one would ever again
-enter that door by means of a key....
-</p>
-<p>
-As she was opening, in a drawer, the box of his favorite cigars and
-would fain have lost herself in the odor which brought before her the
-image of her man, a telegram was brought to her. She tore it open
-mechanically, all news being indifferent to her. It was from Mlle. de
-Blauve, a girl of fourteen, and announced that her father, Commandant de
-Blauve, had died upon the field of honor. Her mother had been for the
-last few days a nurse at Rheims, her natal city, under bombardment. The
-three little De Blauve girls were alone at home with the governess, the
-two older brothers being in Jersey at school.
-</p>
-<p>
-For the first time since her bereavement Odette was obliged to think of
-others. She closed the box of cigars, and thought of that house in the
-Avenue d'Iena that she knew so well, of those charming little girls,
-henceforth orphaned, the eldest of whom was so calmly acquitting herself
-of the duties of courtesy.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I must go there," she said, and called her maid to dress her. Her
-mourning dress had been brought home the day before yesterday, but she
-had not so much as tried it on. Now for the first time she put on her
-clothes without a thought of her appearance. She took a carriage and
-went to the Avenue d'Iena.
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<h4><a id="III">III</a></h4>
-
-<p>
-She was expecting to find consternation in a family crushed by their
-fate, and during the drive she reflected with astonishment that it was
-not altogether painful to her to visit people in grief; in her inmost
-heart she would rather meet the little de Blauve girls mourning,
-unhappy, than her consolatory friends, overflowing with kind and
-beautiful words, but not personally sorrowing. "It is not the sight of
-happiness that consoles us in our sorrows," she said to herself, "but to
-come into touch with a grief that is like our own."
-</p>
-<p>
-The little de Blauves were not yet in black. The eldest wept a little
-when Odette kissed her with flowing tears&mdash;for Odette was thinking of
-her own grief&mdash;but the little girls were not at all prostrated, and
-there was even something radiant in their expression.
-</p>
-<p>
-"What is it all about, dear children?" asked Odette.
-</p>
-<p>
-Then they clapped their hands and said that their brother had just
-landed from his island and was up-stairs washing himself, and that he
-had received his mother's permission to enlist.
-</p>
-<p>
-"To enlist!" exclaimed Odette. "Why, how old is he, the poor little
-fellow?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"He is almost seventeen," said the eldest girl. "Papa is dead, he must
-replace him."
-</p>
-<p>
-"And what does the big brother say to that?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Oh, he is delighted. He had begged to enlist as soon as mobilization
-was declared, but papa would not consent; he said: 'You will go with
-your class, when the time comes; it will not be long.'"
-</p>
-<p>
-The big brother appeared, coming down-stairs. He was a fine boy,
-delicate, surprisingly like his mother's portrait, painted in her youth,
-which hung above the great sofa. He rushed past like a bomb, exclaiming:
-"I must hurry to the recruiting-office!" No more was said about the dead
-father, and yet Odette knew that he was adored by all his family. Only
-to the governess, a confidential person well on in years, did Odette say
-a word about the event.
-</p>
-<p>
-"It is a great honor," said the governess.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Do they know how he was killed?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"A bomb, which at the same time killed seventeen men who were near him."
-</p>
-<p>
-It was fearlessly said in the presence of the children. Not one of the
-little ones showed the least emotion, while Odette shuddered through her
-whole body. She asked after the mother.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Mama writes that the mortars send a regular hail; she is almost
-deafened with them. The noise disturbs her in her work. They jump, at
-times, as over a skipping-rope, she writes.... She has also some Boches
-to wait upon her; did you know?"
-</p>
-<p>
-And that was all. Odette looked at the dead man's portrait, opposite
-that of the Red Cross nurse, who was jumping, at this moment, at the
-sound of the marmites, and had just sent her young son to the
-firing-line, casting at least one more de Blauve into the furnace that
-had consumed his father. Monsieur de Blauve had not been painted in
-uniform; he showed only the good face of a clever and kindly man. It
-must have been in all tranquillity, without uttering a single grand
-word, that he had prepared his whole family for the eventualities of
-war; and his children, to the last one, were as ready to die as to go on
-a walk, or to church.
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<h4><a id="IV">IV</a></h4>
-
-<p>
-Odette went away disconcerted. Not a word had been said about her Jean,
-who also had died heroically. But what had they said about the other
-hero, Commandant de Blauve, whose death had brought her there? Men
-disappear; they are replaced; a memory of them remains, which is
-henceforth called "honor," and which does not admit of emotion. That was
-precisely what certain of her friends had already said to her. They had
-seemed to know that in advance, but Odette&mdash;no. She thought, as she
-returned home, of that bloody sunset over the sea, upon which she had
-gazed at Surville on August I, and during which she had had the
-impression that she was entering a new world.
-</p>
-<p>
-She found three letters in the vestibule; one, belated, from a friend in
-the country, who had only just heard of the death of Lieutenant
-Jacquelin, and who "complimented" her, basing her consolation upon "the
-honor with which she saw her adorned." The others were from strangers
-charged to announce to her that the husband of a friend who lived in
-Versailles, and that of another in Bourg-la-Reine, had just been killed.
-</p>
-<p>
-Odette sank down upon the divan, her head feeling bruised as if she had
-bumped it against the wall; killed, killed&mdash;then there were dead men
-everywhere? And she felt a dark rancor toward all those fatal events
-that fell upon her so furiously to disturb her grief, her personal
-grief.
-</p>
-<p>
-She saw again those three men of whose loss she had been told that very
-day&mdash;in a single half-day&mdash;Commandant de Blauve, a magnificent
-man, a man without a blot, "a type of Plutarch" as he had been called,
-always with the added words, "characters such as his were no longer
-made"; then Jacques Graveur, him of Versailles, a good comrade of
-Jean's, one who never made an ado about anything, and passed for none
-too serious; it appeared that he had saved his whole company by coolness
-and the sacrifice of himself; Louis Silvain, he of Bourg-la-Reine, had
-brought his captain in upon his shoulders, across two hundred metres of
-open ground under a hail of grape-shot, had come within three metres of
-his trench, when a ball passed through his body&mdash;but the officer
-was saved. He had been, in ordinary life, a big fellow, with no other
-occupation than to haunt the theatres, play at the races, and drink
-cocktails at the bars.... Such different figures, suddenly united in a
-similar act, for which some of them had from all time been prepared, the
-others not at all&mdash;the strangeness, the incomprehensibility of it
-all!
-</p>
-<p>
-She must write letters of condolence&mdash;she, who had received so many!
-While she was writing to the others she was thinking especially of her
-Jean; she felt a certain fascination in writing of grief; she dwelt upon
-it too much at length; it would be apparent to the wives to whom she
-wrote that she was thinking only of herself.... But each of them would
-have done the same, and would forgive her.
-</p>
-<p>
-All through the day the memory of Jean shook off from her the haunting
-thought of the three other dead men. She consulted a map of the Touring
-Club of which she had sometimes made use with her husband in their
-automobile drives. The spot where Jean had fallen was not far from a
-highway over which they had often driven. "Perhaps I saw one day the
-very spot where his body is lying to-day...." Then followed endless
-despairing reveries. How had she not foreseen the possibility of the
-event&mdash;of the war, at least? Yet war had often been discussed in her
-presence, at the time of the alarms of Agadir, of Casablanca, even of
-Tangier, when she was a young girl. Then things were possible, things
-which perhaps might happen to-morrow, of which people were talking
-to-day, and to which her mind had been hermetically closed? War, war!
-She used to know old people who talked about it; yes, because they had
-seen it. And they were tiresome. Young people didn't believe in such
-things. She tried to excuse herself; then she pronounced herself guilty.
-Why had they usually avoided people who talked of serious things? And
-why had they considered as clever those who ridiculed everything?
-Suddenly she thought of "Monsieur's linen," "Monsieur's wardrobe," of all
-those belongings of <i>his</i> which would never again be used, never....
-Should she go on leaving them all in their places? Should she do away
-with them? Or should she put them all away in a closet, a reliquary?
-</p>
-<p>
-She was at that point in her reflections when Amelia entered, in tears:
-</p>
-<p>
-"The son of the concierge, madame!"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Well, what?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"He too, madame!"
-</p>
-<p>
-Then the details; the unlucky fellow had been buried alive in an
-upheaval caused by a bomb, and had been dug out only too late. And
-Amelia began to talk of her husband, as if it had been he who was buried
-alive.
-</p>
-<p>
-When a few days passed without tidings of more deaths, all the women
-grew calm and began to hope. When a man whom they knew was killed, each
-one saw in him her husband, her father, her cousin, her son; all the men
-were wept for in advance in the person of the one who had fallen. If any
-one had said to these women: "But there are thousands falling every day,
-thousands!" they would have opened their eyes wide, only partly
-terrorized, for they had not yet become accustomed to the new condition
-of things. The one who should maintain that the war would not be over in
-a few weeks would be considered a bad patriot, or an ill-timed jester.
-</p>
-<p>
-The next morning a new catastrophe; Pierre de Prans, otherwise Pierrot,
-he who had brought the news of Jean's death, had been brought to
-Val-de-Grâce hospital in a very alarming condition. His orderly, a fine
-fellow, who was wounded at the same time, was as good as dead. Pierrot
-had a bullet in the breast, one lung laid bare, and a broken arm. His
-orderly had stanched his wounds under a violent bombardment, filling up
-the enormous cavity with bandages snatched from the dead who surrounded
-them, then both had remained for six hours, their heads in a
-vile-smelling hole under a paving-stone, their bodies hidden by bushes.
-In the course of the night, hearing the French language spoken, they had
-kicked with their feet and the stretcher-bearers had drawn them out,
-both still living.
-</p>
-<p>
-The narrative of these particulars produced a worse effect upon Odette
-than tidings of death; the more as some one had the lightness to say in
-her presence: "Much better to be shot dead at an unexpected moment than
-to endure such long and cruel agony."
-</p>
-<p>
-"That is a fine idea!" retorted Odette. "Much better to be alive than
-dead."
-</p>
-<p>
-Notwithstanding the sadness of these visits of friends when there was
-always some new death to weep for, deaths which had occurred under the
-most frightful circumstances, Odette felt that no other sorrow was equal
-to her sorrow; and she detested them all, not as losses hateful to
-endure, not as making part of a national calamity the like of which had
-never been before, but as unwelcome events intruding themselves between
-her and her own grief. She desired to be alone with her sorrow, and she
-resolved henceforth to know nothing of all the rest.
-</p>
-<p>
-One idea possessed her during several days: to see the place where Jean
-lay buried. Oh! if she could also see that where he received his
-death-blow! She appealed to three or four influential persons of her
-acquaintance, hung over the telephone. What she asked was to the last
-degree impossible. Word came to her from the Minister that it would be
-easier for her to go to Berlin, passing through Switzerland after
-procuring the necessary papers, than to reach her husband's tomb, near
-as it was. Then it seemed to her that the government, even more than
-death, had robbed her of her husband by means never practised before,
-the refined cruelty of which had been invented for her alone.
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<h4><a id="V">V</a></h4>
-
-<p>
-Her old friend, La Villaumer, had come to make her a brief visit of
-condolence. He was the only man of their former group of intimates left
-in Paris, because of his years. Now he came to see her again.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I do not come seeking to console you, my friend. If I am making a
-mistake, turn me to the door. In my mind there is no consolation for
-you; you are an unfortunate woman. You must not ask much of life, do you
-see? You have known happiness. To most people happiness is unknown. Let
-those to whom it is a stranger deceive themselves with words and
-attitudes; as for you, weep for all you have lost; weep; what you have
-lost is worth all tears."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Thank you, my friend; do not feel that you are obliged to make a
-heroine of me, you of all others! You know, of all others, that I am not
-a heroic soul, but simply a woman who loves."
-</p>
-<p>
-"You are the purest woman whom I have known, in the sense that you are
-the most natural. You were born in a terrestrial paradise, and until now
-you have lived in one. You have not been put outside the gate for some
-misdeed by the angel with the fiery sword; a hurricane has arisen and
-devastated the garden."
-</p>
-<p>
-"But I am none the less outside of the gate!"
-</p>
-<p>
-"I recognize that. There would be no use in seeking to deny it, and it
-is all in vain to say to you that if others are less vividly aware of
-being outside the gate it is because they never lived in the garden,
-like you."
-</p>
-<p>
-"But they tell me that everything is changed."
-</p>
-<p>
-"They are right, and you see it clearly because you are outside of Eden,
-which you had never left before. It is only that some of them accept the
-change quickly because they were prepared for it, and others because
-they are less sensitive than you."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Then, if such a change exists, does that mean that I should cease to
-mourn my husband?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"No; but the day will come when you will mourn him more. Remember what I
-say: you will mourn him more. That is the way in which you will take
-your part in the change."
-</p>
-<p>
-"More!" ejaculated Odette. "Is it possible? I do not understand you."
-</p>
-<p>
-"I mean by 'more' another manner of mourning, which you will doubtless
-find more endurable. Let us not talk more about it now, but keep in mind
-what I have said."
-</p>
-<p>
-She shrank more and more from society, till she could endure neither
-news nor the face of a friend. She caused herself to be denied at the
-door&mdash;forbade her maid to speak to her of the war, even to bring in
-the newspapers. She wished to hear nothing.
-</p>
-<p>
-Then Paris became odious to her because she could not keep herself
-sufficiently in retirement. Since she was not permitted to go and
-stretch herself upon Jean's tomb, like a faithful dog, she decided to
-seek a refuge where she could think only of Jean, weep for him in
-solitude, live only in his memory, stun herself with her own grief, give
-herself body and soul to this grief from which no earthly power had the
-right to tear her.
-</p>
-<p>
-She thought of returning to Surville, where Jean had bidden her good-by,
-where she had spent those last weeks with him, those beloved days of the
-end of the world. To find herself there in present circumstances would
-be atrocious pain; so much the better! There was only one sort of
-torture that she feared; that which should forbid her to live in
-intimate union with the memory of Jean. To suffer, to suffer even to
-martyrdom, to the martyrdom which Jean's death was causing her, this was
-the greatest good for which she could ask.
-</p>
-<p>
-Odette set out for Surville.
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<h4><a id="VI">VI</a></h4>
-
-<p>
-It was the end of October. The war, still violent and deadly along all
-that line of conflict which was called the battle of the Aisne, was
-becoming more terrible in the north, and was being carried over into
-Belgium, as at the beginning. Universal anguish, for a time checked by
-the victory of the Marne, was as acute as in the first days. Surville,
-on the seashore, could not but be deserted and sad at this season. The
-Hôtel de Normandie closed, the public houses that were open far from
-comfortable, the best way to be alone and not hear war talk from morning
-till night was to rent a small villa. A pavilion was recommended; it was
-separated from the street by a row of poplars with yellowing foliage and
-a narrow grass-plot where two pergolas were in summer covered with
-climbing roses. At this season the dull melancholy of this abode was
-accentuated by the silence of the dead town. Odette found that it suited
-her. No sooner had she arrived than she had made a pilgrimage under the
-closed windows and drawn-down blinds of the room that she had occupied
-with Jean. The wind was blowing from the country, driving the heavy
-clouds out to sea; the old Casino, once so gay, was boarded up; at the
-door there still hung a poster announcing the races. Odette followed the
-alley, passed over the dunes between the deserted tennis-courts, and
-went down to the beach, where she could indulge in the bitterness of
-unmingled grief.
-</p>
-<p>
-This was where she had planted her tent and lived with Jean through a
-fortnight of sunny days, in utter abandonment to a delight that arose
-from the earth or fell down from the magnificent sky. Children had been
-playing about; excited little dogs had been barking to coax them to
-throw a pebble into the sea. They had ceased their indolent repose only
-to plunge into the sea, swimming side by side with delight.
-</p>
-<p>
-To-day the beach was abandoned, and seemed to stretch away, gray and
-monotonous, to the end of the world. Odette seated herself under the
-shelter of the dune and uttered the beloved name of Jean. The raging
-wind carried it, like a flake of foam, toward that distant Havre where a
-number of transports were lying in the roadstead. The coachman who
-brought her from the train had pointed them out to her: they had brought
-over British troops; an average of fifty to fifty-five vessels was
-arriving every day. The war! Here, too, here again, when she had hardly
-left the train, she had been reminded of it.
-</p>
-<p>
-Nevertheless, the hours passed and no one spoke of it, to her at least.
-The monotonous sound of the sea soothed her, and the sea,
-notwithstanding the troop-ships over there, seemed like something grand,
-entirely foreign to all the human butchery. Odette rested her eyes on
-the limitless plain, ever restless and sad. But this sadness was allied
-to her own, and at the same time something immense, majestic, and
-superhuman seemed to enter the depths of her still rudimentary
-consciousness of the dawn of a new time. She would have remained there
-for hours if the approach of evening had not rendered intolerable the
-sense of despair suggested by the scene, and if the rain had not begun
-to fall in torrents.
-</p>
-<p>
-Odette took one of the paths leading back to the town.
-</p>
-<p>
-Hardly had she reached it when she was surprised to see through the
-driving wind and rain that buffeted her, many illuminated buildings
-where she had expected only the shadows of a sleeping city. That was the
-Casino, which she had lately seen shut up by boards! And that was the
-Grand Hotel, all twinkling with light! She had to round the corner of
-the latter to reach her cottage, and by degrees as she approached it she
-saw a swarm of human beings, became aware of a commotion in the vast
-building which had seemed so funereal. Men with bandaged heads, with
-arms in slings, men walking on crutches; and the white head-dresses and
-red crosses of nurses; it was a hospital. The wind brought its odors to
-her&mdash;the smell of tincture of iodine, of cooking and an indescribable
-unsavoriness.
-</p>
-<p>
-She drew near, passed beneath the windows. The sight was not so
-heart-breaking as she would have expected. The nurses, some of them
-young, wore a smile; if certain wounded men were stretched out, inert,
-others, seated on their beds, were quietly chatting, calling across to
-one another; a great burst of boyish laughter took her by surprise,
-while at the same moment she saw, close-pressed to the window-pane,
-directly under the electric light, the pitiful, waxen face of a sort of
-Lazarus rising from the tomb. She became aware that the other building,
-opposite, was equally crowded; she saw at the door an orderly in
-uniform, and the inscription on white linen: "Supplementary Hospital."
-She had thought to flee from the war; everything was bringing it to her.
-The pavilion that she had selected, with its green lawns, its poplars,
-its pergolas, was situated not far from these hospitals. All day long
-she would see only men who had been in the war!
-</p>
-<p>
-Somewhat disheartened, she returned home. It was not what she had
-expected to find here. Two telegrams were awaiting her; she opened them
-listlessly&mdash;no news could be of serious moment to her. Both of them
-announced the death of young men whom she knew intimately, old friends
-of her husband; the first, an aviator crushed under his machine; the
-second, killed on the banks of the Yser.
-</p>
-<p>
-The next morning several letters brought to her details of this twofold
-loss. The first of these young men, whom she remembered to have had at
-her house not three months before, had joined in aerial conflict with an
-enemy machine, at an altitude of two thousand metres; despairing of
-overcoming it by shots of grape, he had dashed upon it, crushing his own
-screw, but had also seen his adversary wrecked as they fell to earth
-together. It was one of the first exploits of the kind; its effect upon
-the imagination was great. The other victim of the day, an officer by
-profession, after having his shoulder crushed and his useless arm bound
-to his body by withes, had continued for an hour to command his company,
-until a bomb had scattered him in fragments.
-</p>
-<p>
-Odette shuddered. The heroism touched her, as it touched every one; but
-these fine deeds, these multiplied deaths, overshadowed the case of her
-husband, blotted it out; the death of Lieutenant Jacquelin was fading
-from the general memory; other deaths were making more of a stir than
-his; as the war became more and more furious it seemed to relegate its
-earlier stages to a long-past time, somewhat inferior to the later
-tragedy. Lieutenant Jacquelin had been killed in the first days of the
-war, of a war still fought in old-fashioned way. The miseries of the
-trenches under the autumn rains was another sort of war, one which alone
-seemed to be true war. The headlong rush of the enemy on the Yser, of
-which people were better informed than of the earlier invasion at the
-Marne, arrested and absorbed the public mind. Odette felt this, and
-though she was determined that no thought of glory should mingle with
-her grief, the idea of glory and of the gigantic struggle that was going
-on did penetrate her mind in spite of herself, by reason of the
-diminution which the prestige of her own hero was suffering. She had
-never dreamed of finding a cause of pride in what he had done; one
-single thought had absorbed her: that her Jean, her love, was dead. In
-her wounded pride she was hurried into saying to herself: "He died
-nobly, he had a beautiful death, he too!" Yet the universal chorus
-seemed to reply: "Since him, others have done better."
-</p>
-<p>
-She wrote to her newly widowed friends in words of exaggerated praise,
-affecting not to speak at all of her personal sorrow. It was a
-gratuitous effusion of temper, for the widows did not find her praises
-at all extravagant, and never observed Odette's reserve as to her own
-case.
-</p>
-<p>
-She decided not to leave the house, that she might see nothing, hear
-nothing, learn nothing. For a while she even thought of notifying the
-post-office not to forward her correspondence; but she was always hoping
-that the Minister would send her a permit to visit Jean's grave.
-Jealously she shut herself up with the memory of her husband.
-</p>
-<p>
-Everything irritated her; everything was odious to her; everything
-seemed to conspire to raise between her and the beloved memory a barrier
-of bleeding corpses, a screen upon which were portrayed horrors invented
-by a satanic imagination, together with sentences of exalted morality
-unknown to her and whose new radiance blinded her.
-</p>
-<p>
-Stamping her foot, tearing the handkerchief with which she was stanching
-her tears, she declared to herself that she would henceforth live only
-for Jean and by him. She kissed the photographs that she had brought
-with her. She stretched herself upon a lounge, engulfing herself in the
-torturing memory of him. For one day, several days, a week, perhaps
-longer, she would be able to live upon only the thought of him. She
-would open neither letters nor despatches that might come; if she was
-late with her condolences, her congratulations, what did it matter?
-</p>
-<p>
-The idea of military glory entered her mind and suggested to her the
-hope of erecting a monument to her husband. She was caressing the
-thought when her maid entered her room like a gust of wind.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Madame, the wounded! the wounded! Swarms of them! In automobiles, on
-trucks; it appears that there are twice as many for Sousville, and the
-train has carried as many more to Houlgate and Cabourg!"
-</p>
-<p>
-Amelia threw open the windows. The train of wounded men was passing the
-house. Odette dared not forbid herself to look at it.
-</p>
-<p>
-Autos were rumbling by, some of them covered, others displaying to the
-light of day a heap of men, motionless, bandaged, covered with clay, an
-agglutinated mass of flesh in which all individuality if not all life
-seemed to be held in suspense, a cart-load of humanity: not a single man
-but a mass of bloody pulp in which the suffering that it covered must be
-a common suffering. Then came a truck, two trucks, three. They were
-great drays across which were placed stretchers, and on these stretchers
-were extended what they call the bedded wounded, those whose legs are
-broken, or already amputated, or dreadfully crushed, those
-fever-stricken from projectiles received in the body, those with cloven
-skulls, hastily bound together. They were marine gunners, foot-soldiers,
-blacks; tall, handsome, Moroccans with brown skins. Distinguished from
-all the others by excess of ill fortune, they were stretched out,
-straight and rigid like corpses placed in order, at equal distances,
-upon the marble slabs of a morgue. The trucks going at a walk and
-carrying the most seriously wounded, at each check, each halt, each
-starting again, one could hear hollow moans; sometimes the outcry of a
-Moroccan, sharp like the voice of a child or a woman, would make you
-catch your breath, and the country folk, crowded along the sidewalks,
-would whimper as if they themselves were being tortured.
-</p>
-<p>
-Amelia, who in the beginning had been chattering without ceasing, was
-now suffocated with sobs, and her elbows upon the window-ledge was
-weeping silently over this procession. Odette, hidden at another window,
-wept like her servant, incapable either of tearing herself away from the
-sight or of controlling her emotion.
-</p>
-<p>
-At length, having closed the windows, the two women found themselves
-face to face with wet eyes. Amelia said:
-</p>
-<p>
-"It is better to be dead than alive."
-</p>
-<p>
-Never had they experienced such emotions in Paris, where they thought
-themselves nearer the war because of the number of kilometres between
-them and the front, or because they heard men deemed well informed
-telling contradictory news from morning to night. Here in this remote
-and quiet corner they had now touched the very relics of the hecatomb.
-The eyes alone tell the truth; words are a small matter.
-</p>
-<p>
-Amelia could not remain still; she ran to the hospital after the
-procession. Never in her life had she seen anything so exciting.
-</p>
-<p>
-On her return she said that she could hardly recognize the entrance of
-the Grand Hotel, whither she had gone a few months before to carry notes
-from Monsieur or Madame to M. X or M. Y who were dead now, like
-Monsieur.
-</p>
-<p>
-She brought back much information. The wounded who came that morning
-were from the Department of the North, where a frightful battle had been
-raging for weeks. "Some of them talk, madame; some of them say nothing;
-their eyes break your heart, like poor, sick dogs that glance at you as
-if ashamed and pretend to be asleep." "I could see from where I was,"
-she went on after a little, "the surgeon as he appeared to be, all in
-white, with a cap like a cook and bare arms; he received them at the
-door and sorted them out, sending them up-stairs, down-stairs, to the
-right, the left, pestered by the nurses, who begged for them."
-</p>
-<p>
-But Odette had not seen them entering the hospital, and this did not
-interest her. She was pursuing her own thoughts.
-</p>
-<p>
-"There was one in the procession," she said, "one that was lying down,
-who was so pale, poor boy! He will not go far."
-</p>
-<p>
-She had vowed to herself that she would not go out; she would remain
-with her grief the whole day, the whole week. But immediately after
-luncheon she put on her hat and went to wander around the hospital.
-</p>
-<p>
-A hedge separated the street from the great court in which there was
-still a circular clump of trees surrounded with withered summer flowers;
-opposite, above another hedge, the vines in a charming flower-garden
-were reddening on the pergolas. Everything bore the impress of a time of
-display and enjoyment, and she felt that decorations like these were
-henceforth antiquated, absurd.
-</p>
-<p>
-Odette knew already, through Amelia, the disposition of each part of the
-hospital, whose interior hum she could hear from without. She knew that
-one flight up, at the first turn, were the typhoids, nursed by a Sister
-who for twelve years past, wherever she might be sent, had done nothing
-else than care for typhoids, and go to the nearest church to put up a
-little prayer. She knew the situation of the staircase leading to the
-basements, where the food was brought in and the dead carried out. She
-knew that at a corner of the building looking upon the sea was the
-operating-theatre, visible from without. And in fact, passing by it, she
-perceived a group of white-robed men and women, their sleeves turned
-back, leaning over something or some one. Then she fled toward the sea
-like a coward and was ashamed. In reality, this assemblage of suffering
-creatures at once repelled and attracted her, producing a complex
-sentiment, unfamiliar and incongruous.
-</p>
-<p>
-From afar she looked at the building and its surroundings. At the sight
-of this countryside, these villas, these hotels, the memory of the past
-summer overpowered her, and at the same time she experienced a cruel
-dispelling of her memories of the past summer. Meanwhile she stood there
-as if hypnotized by the great house of suffering. On the ground floor,
-through the glazed verandas she discerned a constant coming and going of
-white caps. And she thought of the labors which those hundred and fifty
-new arrivals of the morning must necessitate. She was seized with
-timidity at the thought of approaching this august place. Before it she
-seemed to herself a profane person, idle, gloved, parasol in hand, her
-one interest her personal grief.
-</p>
-<p>
-An unknown power held her motionless, kept her from going toward the
-sea, where she had hoped to meet her cruel and too-much loved memories,
-and yet forbidding her to return to that place of common suffering which
-she had not made her own. While she stood there, hesitating on the
-levelled dune, she was shot through with an unaccustomed shiver, which
-frightened her.
-</p>
-<p>
-As a pretext for again drawing near the place she told herself that she
-desired to see once more the poor boy whom she had seen lying so pale on
-his stretcher. Had they revived him? Sincerely, she would have loved to
-know. But how set about it? No sooner had she returned to the road that
-surrounded the glazed verandas than she lost courage to present herself
-as a curious stranger; men in bed, others sitting up, would stare at the
-newcomer, young and perhaps pretty under her crape veil.
-</p>
-<p>
-She returned to her house much more agitated than if she had met any
-one, and let Amelia talk to her of all that she had learned concerning
-not only that hospital, but all the hospitals of the region. She
-remembered of all she heard only the name of a lady whom she had met in
-August at the Hôtel de Normandie, and who, it appeared, was nursing the
-wounded in the neighboring hospital, Madame de Calouas.
-</p>
-<p>
-She shut herself up again, distrustful of the strange attraction that
-the city of suffering exercised over her. She talked to Jean's
-photograph, saying to it: "I will be only yours, think of nothing but of
-you." She read over again the books that they had read together; or
-rather, she pleased herself by telling herself that she had read these
-books with Jean. Or she walked in her little garden, making forty turns
-over the tour of the hedge-bordered alley, strewn with golden flakes
-which the poplars shed like rain. Sometimes she would pause before the
-latticed gate upon the road, amusing herself with counting the minutes
-that one might stand there without seeing a single passer-by. One day
-she thought she recognized Mme. de Calouas hastening past on a bicycle,
-light and fleet as a dragon-fly. And she felt a desire to see her again,
-not on her own account, for she had left upon her only a vague
-impression, but to talk to her or hear her talk of Jean.
-</p>
-<p>
-Vainly she watched for her. She even permitted herself to walk out, in
-the hope of meeting Mme. de Calouas.
-</p>
-<p>
-"But, madame," said Amelia, "it is very easy. Every one knows when these
-ladies come back and forth to the hospital. Madame has only to walk up
-and down before the great court."
-</p>
-<p>
-It was not till the following Sunday, at eleven o'clock mass, that
-Odette met Mme. de Calouas and spoke to her.
-</p>
-<p>
-"What!" exclaimed Mme. de Calouas, "you here! What hospital do you
-belong to?"
-</p>
-<p>
-Odette thought that the nurse had made a mistake, intending to say:
-"Where are you staying?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"I am at the Elizabeth pavilion."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Is that the new auxiliary post opened for contagious diseases?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"It is just a little villa," said Odette simply. "It is large enough for
-me alone."
-</p>
-<p>
-"And what are you doing there, good God?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"I came here," said Odette, "that I might mourn for my husband in
-peace."
-</p>
-<p>
-Mme. de Calouas assumed a suitable expression, but made no reply. Odette
-continued:
-</p>
-<p>
-"He was killed in the end of September, at the head of his company,
-going out from the village&mdash;&mdash;"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Yes, I heard," said Mme. de Calouas. "I ought to have sent you a card;
-but in times like these&mdash;&mdash;"
-</p>
-<p>
-"You yourself are in mourning," observed Odette.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Oh&mdash;I! I have lost my husband, my two brothers, my uncle the colonel,
-several cousins&mdash;" She waved her hand with a gesture which signified:
-"They are past counting!" Before leaving Odette she added:
-</p>
-<p>
-"Come to see me at the hospital, from eight o'clock to noon, and from
-two to four. From four to six I have another service at the Red Cross,
-close by. I will show you things. Come."
-</p>
-<p>
-For a long time Odette hesitated. Again she shut herself up with her
-adored memories. She was irritated that Mme. de Calouas had not said a
-word about that exquisite man who was her Jean, and whom she had met at
-the hotel. When she went out it was precisely at an hour when she knew
-Mme. de Calouas to be at her hospitals. When the sea-wind was too strong
-she would walk in the dull streets of the deserted summer city, a
-pleasure resort in which the word "pleasure" had become strange and
-unfitting. The streets crossed at right angles; nearly all of them were
-bordered by hedges beyond which one could see a garden, the wire cage of
-a tennis-court, a Norman villa, and no one. Often, the whole length of
-her walk she met only one human being, a big man, almost impotent, whose
-duty it was to sweep up the dead leaves&mdash;an absurd duty since the wind
-scattered them as fast as he swept, and the trees shed down behind him
-another layer of little golden, rolling, dead things.
-</p>
-<p>
-Sometimes, walking daringly, Odette crossed the long terrace, and
-braving the wind went as far as to the sea.
-</p>
-<p>
-At certain hours the beach was covered with men under treatment. You
-recognized them by the slings that supported their arms, by their
-crutches, their bandaged heads, not often by their uniforms, of which
-they preserved only odd parts. They wore old jackets, knitted
-waistcoats, trousers brought forth from old Norman wardrobes. Some of
-the men limped, others wearily dragged their feet along the sand; those
-who had legs wrestled with one another, ran races, played like children.
-They delighted in the edge of the sea, gathering shells, and regaling
-themselves with the slimy flesh of cockles. Some of them cast a too
-expressive glance upon the young woman, with an awkward word which at
-another time would have made her smile. It was an amazing group of
-tatterdemalions; within the memory of man no eye had ever looked upon
-such a sight. It excited compassion; and yet almost every man in
-particular had gained, without trying, the manly merit of always seeming
-to be in good humor.
-</p>
-<p>
-Whenever she saw them Odette felt moved, and at the same time somewhat
-jealous. <i>He</i> had not been washed, bandaged, ministered to, nor
-even clothed in rags; <i>he</i> had not been able to drag his mangled
-limbs along the seashore; <i>he</i> had been killed outright. She would
-say to herself: "Perhaps one of these soldiers knew him, perhaps he saw
-him fall; he could tell me the details, could describe his last days,
-his last hour, his last minute." And she grew faint at the possibility
-of asking them, of learning.
-</p>
-<p>
-The low tide, the stormy sky, the wind, the grayish hillsides, the
-transports on the horizon, always this immense deserted beach, these
-wretched relics of the war, and she, disconsolate widow, imploring the
-wind to snatch her away and destroy her in its eddies! The constant
-reminders of the past, the sight of these same places, natural
-background of all the pleasant things of life! The thought of that water
-which had bathed the limbs of Jean, and of the August sun, and the
-restless multitude, gay and elegant, whom the many-colored sweaters set
-off like a profusion of tulips; the movement of automobiles, the music
-of the orchestra! Her heart ached at these contrasts even more than it
-had done in Paris. The solitude, the approaching winter, and the near
-contact with suffering aroused in her an unwelcome agitation. The
-restless air, dark with cawing crows, brought a bitter taste to her
-lips, and yet aroused in her an indescribable sense of splendor.
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<h4><a id="VII">VII</a></h4>
-
-<p>
-Nothing less than the thought of meeting Mme. de Calouas at church on
-the following Sunday before she had paid her promised visit could have
-induced Odette to cross the threshold of the hospital.
-</p>
-<p>
-She went on Saturday, between two and four o'clock. An orderly wearing a
-corporal's bands detained her as if her hand-bag might conceal
-incendiary bombs, but was softened on hearing the name of Mme. de
-Calouas, and led her to room 74. Odette was kept a long time standing at
-the door of room 74; at last a doctor came out, carrying a case of
-instruments. He was followed by Mme. de Calouas, who said:
-</p>
-<p>
-"It is too bad, dear madame! I beg you to excuse me; one of my patients
-detained me. But now I am at your service; just let me change my blouse
-before taking you to see the wards."
-</p>
-<p>
-Her change of costume was soon made, and she took Odette to a
-neighboring room where a very young nurse and two military orderlies
-were with great difficulty holding down a patient in an attack of
-tetanus. The sick man's head with its contracted jaws and inflexible
-neck reminded her of certain "attractions" of the waxworks; the upheaved
-body, forming an arc from head to heels, was as rigid and unyielding as
-the arch of a bridge. Odette turned pale, and Mme. de Calouas said:
-</p>
-<p>
-"You lack training. See this child who is nursing him! She isn't twenty
-years old&mdash;a mere girl."
-</p>
-<p>
-They passed into another room, from which exhaled a pestilential odor.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Gangrene from the gas," said Mme. de Calouas. "It is not a perfume for
-the pocket-handkerchief, far from it! But one gets accustomed to
-anything. With assiduous care and absolute asepsis we have saved a
-certain number of wounded who suffer from this complication. We are so
-fortunate here as to have a surgeon who is not in haste to use the
-knife."
-</p>
-<p>
-In the long corridor nurses, for the most part young, were gliding or
-running. A priest, wearing his alb, was hastening to one of the rooms.
-Carried along by his speed, Mme. de Calouas entered after him, and
-Odette followed her.
-</p>
-<p>
-It was a comfortable hotel bedroom, hung with brightly colored paper;
-there were two women in white, and on a clean white bed lay a tall young
-man, uncovered, almost as white as the bed, from whose lips poured a
-stream of blood. He had received a fragment of shell in the sinus, had
-been operated upon that morning, and hemorrhage had set in&mdash;a stream
-white and red, unlike anything she had ever seen; it overwhelmed her
-with horror.
-</p>
-<p>
-"You should apply a tampon," said Mme. de Calouas.
-</p>
-<p>
-"The doctor is coming," replied one of the nurses.
-</p>
-<p>
-They were both leaning over the white body; one was injecting serum into
-the stomach, the other was applying a syringe with ipecac to the thigh.
-The priest was standing at the cadaverous feet, anointing them with the
-sacred oil. The doctor arrived and applied the proper tampons.
-</p>
-<p>
-To Mme. de Calouas this was one of the normal cases which one meets on
-visiting a military hospital. Odette was making every effort to stand
-upright. She begged to go out in the air. Mme. de Calouas smiled.
-</p>
-<p>
-"It is war! And we are only in one of the rear hospitals. There is no
-rain of shells here. Shall we visit the wards down-stairs, if you
-please?"
-</p>
-<p>
-The vast wards were almost vacant at this hour, for many of the patients
-were out-of-doors.
-</p>
-<p>
-"They recover rapidly, if you only knew! One can see the new flesh
-grow."
-</p>
-<p>
-"And they return to the firing-line?" asked Odette.
-</p>
-<p>
-"They must, indeed!"
-</p>
-<p>
-A group of four convalescents was playing a game of cards on a bed.
-Others, stretched at length, were reading; several were sleeping, some
-were receiving friends. A photographer in a corner was taking pictures.
-</p>
-<p>
-Beds and beds, and torn flesh, and perforated limbs, and members sawn
-off, and trepanned skulls! And the tetanus, the gangrene, the typhus,
-and that red torrent by which the soul of a man was taking flight, amid
-all that whiteness!
-</p>
-<p>
-Odette felt as if she should die, and left the hospital. During all her
-visit one question had been upon her lips: "Shall I find here any one
-who knew my husband?" What was it that kept her from uttering it? She
-could not have told how it was, but she had not so much as pronounced
-her husband's name. A weight had seemed to be crushing her during the
-whole time. She had felt overwhelmed by the new horror. The worst was
-that when at last she reached home she felt ashamed to weep for her own
-sorrow.
-</p>
-<p>
-The fact also that all that human flesh had been ravaged for the same
-cause; that of those unhappy ones who were groaning, not one thought of
-blaming the cause; and that other fact that one part of humanity,
-upright and able, was bending with help over the other, gasping part,
-forced her to gather up her disordered thoughts and in the midst of her
-confusion to exclaim:
-</p>
-<p>
-"Something is changed!"
-</p>
-<p>
-That evening, at six o'clock, instead of wandering about the streets in
-heavy sadness, she went, as Mme. de Calouas had begged her to do, to
-evening prayer at the Chapel of the Orphanage, in which the Red Cross
-was now installed. It was a convent chapel, reserved for nuns, the
-public being admitted only behind a sort of screen of carved wood,
-through which could be seen the orderly rows of Sisters and orphans, the
-altar and the lights. She found herself in the midst of valid soldiers;
-that is to say, such as by one means or another could move from place to
-place. There were bandaged heads, arms in slings, stiff or deformed
-legs, crutches. Odette was moved by the singing more than she could have
-believed. Suddenly sobs choked her, and she wept. The men turned toward
-this young woman in mourning whom they could hardly have helped
-noticing, and who kept on wiping her eyes. She was weeping from a
-natural need of weeping. She was weeping for Jean, but also she wept
-with great pity for all those lacerated bodies; and for the first time
-she realized that these men, or these fragments of men, had come from
-places where death and pain were of all things the most usual.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mme. de Calouas heard and saw her, and knew that Odette had come here to
-weep for her husband. As they went out she said to her:
-</p>
-<p>
-"You loved him much, then?"
-</p>
-<p>
-And by these words Odette realized that she had been weeping for an
-immeasurable loss, which had left her in a sense benumbed.
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<h4><a id="VIII">VIII</a></h4>
-
-<p>
-This did not last long, and as soon as she reached home she made
-honorable amends to Jean. She drove from her every thought except of
-him, denouncing the universal conspiracy against her beloved memories.
-What could she do to mitigate the misfortunes of others, however great
-and innumerable they might be? Those women who seemed to deny their own
-griefs filled her with a sort of dismay.
-</p>
-<p>
-She passed hours of sleeplessness revolving these ideas, determining at
-whatever cost to master herself, and forget the whole distracted world.
-She fell asleep vowing henceforth to belong wholly to the memory of
-Jean.
-</p>
-<p>
-Yet the next morning, Sunday, coming out of church, she found no rest
-till she had met Mme. de Calouas and asked her:
-</p>
-<p>
-"Could I be of use to you at the hospital?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"I was expecting you," Mme. de Calouas replied. "I would do nothing to
-bring you before the time; but I am glad that you wish to come. I will
-begin by taking you under my wing; for your initiation you shall be my
-helper. Does that suit you?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Of course. I do not know how to do anything."
-</p>
-<p>
-"When will you come?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"When you please."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Well, I will leave you your Sunday. Or rather, come with me now, that I
-may at once get you received by the head doctor, and find a provisional
-cap and blouse for you. The rest will be for to-morrow morning."
-</p>
-<p>
-Odette saw the head doctor; she tried on the nurse's costume which her
-friend would lend to her until she could procure one; and at eight
-o'clock the next morning, after having signed an engagement, she entered
-the hospital, almost as if she was entering a convent.
-</p>
-<p>
-At that hour the hired women were sponging the floors with wet cloths,
-and through the wards resounded the click of buckets set down, the metal
-handle falling against their sides. The floors exhaled moisture. The sea
-air, entering by the open windows, swept out the odor of the sick-room.
-Convalescent men were going to the lavatories; others were helping
-comrades with helpless arms to wash themselves upon their cots.
-</p>
-<p>
-Odette asked for Mme. de Calouas, and found her before the twenty beds
-allotted to her. A dozen of them were occupied by seriously wounded men,
-who gazed upon the newcomer with embarrassing steadfastness. Mme. de
-Calouas led Odette to the room where dressings were done, passing
-through the whole ward, where sixty men were exchanging the morning
-greetings of the soldier, now rough, now amusing. She was, above all,
-surprised that the nurses paid them no attention.
-</p>
-<p>
-While giving instructions to her pupil Mme. de Calouas was busy
-disinfecting mugs, unrolling pieces of cotton and tearing them into
-bits, counting piles of compresses, tubes, drains. The room exhaled an
-odor of antiseptics, sweet and insipid.
-</p>
-<p>
-They returned to the ward, and Mme. de Calouas made known to her each
-patient by name, with certain indications as to his case; she begged
-Odette to wash this or that one, to make the bed of an unfortunate who,
-with only one arm, could not do it alone.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Be careful what you say to them," she whispered in her ear. "Remember
-that their estimate of you will depend upon your first words."
-</p>
-<p>
-Odette observed that the patients gazed at her without once turning away
-their eyes. She won their approval by the first words she uttered, and
-by the gentleness with which she washed the faces of two or three
-helpless men, and she saw their expressions change. Those eyes so full
-of agony, which make unpractised fingers tremble, were softened. Her
-hands were dexterous, her face attractive. There was one poor fellow
-whom she had to wash from head to foot, like a new-born baby, a
-difficult task for a beginner. When all was finished and he was wrapped
-in clean linen she was about to pass to another bed, when the patient
-said: "Wait, madame!" And she saw him painfully turn in his bed, raise
-his sheet, awkwardly stretch out a suffering arm in the attempt at any
-cost to reach the case that hung at the head of the bed. She held the
-linen bag within his reach, and he, hesitating, fumbling, blindly
-feeling among a litter of things, a knife, letters, bits of bread,
-succeeded in extracting two photographs, those of his wife and his two
-little children. He desired to reward the new nurse for her kind
-offices, and he did his best by introducing her to his little family.
-Deeply touched, Odette praised the wife and the two children, and
-thenceforward the poor fellow was her friend.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mme. de Calouas came to say that the stretcher-bearers were coming to
-carry "the thigh" to be dressed. Odette followed "the thigh." The new
-nurse was asked to cut the dressing. She broke into a cold perspiration;
-she thought the scissors were defective, and her remark provoked a smile
-from all the experts around; only the patient looked at her with an
-apprehension which seemed to paralyze her.
-</p>
-<p>
-"You must learn to cut dressings," said Mme. de Calouas. "You will get
-used to it; just a knack."
-</p>
-<p>
-Finally the steel succeeded in biting through the damp compresses. When
-they fell apart the wound appeared. It was an open fracture of the leg,
-whence exhaled the special sickening smell of osseous pus. The large
-wound spread open like a nightmare flower with thick petals, soft and
-viscid, covered with a creamy layer of dull old-rose color. They washed
-it; the patient gritted his teeth; now and again a cry escaped from the
-thin little brown face. When they looked at him he was brave enough to
-smile and say, "That's all right."
-</p>
-<p>
-Odette was more ill than the wounded man. As on the previous evening,
-she asked that she might go out into the air, and when she stumbled at
-the door, turned pale, and was about to faint, the orderly, who
-understood these phenomena, with the help of a valid patient laid her
-all along upon a marble slab. It was only for a moment, and she returned
-to the room, saying, like the wounded man: "That's all right." The
-uninterrupted process of dressing made even her forget the incident. A
-kindly woman drew her into an embrasure and gave her a drop of cordial.
-</p>
-<p>
-At that moment a man was being carried to the operating-room. He
-blustered a little as he addressed to his comrades the classic <i>au
-revoir</i> which may so well be an <i>adieu</i>: "I am going to my game of
-billiards!"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Try to win, old fellow," they answered from all parts of the ward.
-</p>
-<p>
-And, without flinching, Odette was present at "her" first operation.
-</p>
-<p>
-She returned home at half past twelve, exhausted, but lighter in heart
-and satisfied with herself.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Madame is pale," said Amelia. "Madame is the color of the lamp-shade
-when the lamp is lighted."
-</p>
-<p>
-After luncheon she slept heavily for half an hour, and returned to the
-hospital. The afternoon was more calm, at least until the second visit
-of the head physician, before the men's six-o'clock meal. She made
-further acquaintance with her patients; she heard them talk about the
-war. She found occasion to say, "My poor husband was killed on the 22d
-of September," but it produced no great effect, none of those soldiers
-having known Lieutenant Jacquelin. Each told about what he had seen, and
-nothing else seemed to him to have a real existence. She was
-disappointed, but by their various touching stories of what they had
-been through, she was introduced to that war of which she had determined
-to know nothing since her husband was dead. The battles of the Yser, the
-sufferings of the combatants who had passed day after day in freezing
-water, the grotesque onslaughts of the Germans, the piles of dead under
-the ominous skies, set her imagination to work. Always thinking of her
-husband, she saw him all alone in the face of those infuriated enemies,
-trampled down by them.... He had gone out with drawn sabre from his
-little village, at the head of his company, and he had been killed
-outright. Before the survivors of the Yser she no longer dared speak of
-the circumstance of the lieutenant's death, beautiful though it was.
-This war seemed to be enlarging, growing beyond measure great.
-</p>
-<p>
-They were beginning to organize the hospital for the winter; certain
-persons insisted that the war would not be over in six months; others
-said with conviction: "Nor in eighteen months either!" But these were
-suspected of sowing demoralization. Yet the English were making
-preparations for three years! From her friend La Villaumer, who was
-still in Paris, Odette received letters in which he wrote:
-</p>
-<p>
-"We are like children, sometimes gay, laughing and gamboling, at others
-howling, no one knows why. My dear friend, busy yourself with your work,
-and don't read the papers. As for me, there is something which impresses
-me more than the monstrous movements of the German colossus: it is the
-soul of the colossus. It is <i>one</i>; it has only one purpose, which is
-the greatness of the German nation. It is a rudimentary sentiment, savage,
-primitive, barbarous, but how strong! We ourselves are fighting because
-we have been attacked, and also to defend ideas which do us the greatest
-honor: liberty, justice, and the like. We are animated by a very lively
-sentiment of the rights of man. We love humanity; they, the Germans,
-love Germany. How much more simple it is, and how it relieves them of
-all the scruples that hold us back! And yet, in the final issue, it is
-he who shall have triumphed by force who will lay down the moral values
-of the future."
-</p>
-<p>
-Thus, uncertainty, admiration, confidence, scepticism, and a state of
-alarm were concurrently implanted in minds, and Odette, affected by
-them, like every one else, began from that day to be infected, as with
-the odor of the hospital, with this irritating compound.
-</p>
-<p>
-Little by little it seemed to her that she no longer upheld herself, but
-that she let herself be carried away, borne along and guided by the life
-of the hospital. It was at once horrible and almost laughable. A place
-of pain, the perpetual reminder of enormities which the human brain
-could never have conceived, it was also an assemblage dominated by
-youth, which saves all. In the gaze of those prostrate wounded, gaze
-which had become of so much importance to her who passed and repassed
-along the bedsides, burned a flame disturbing and alluring, result of
-the burning away of something that could not be named. At times, one
-felt as if in certain of those wounded men one saw beings returned from
-the beyond. They had seen what nothing had prepared them to see,
-something that confused them, both their senses and their judgment. Some
-of them said: "It was hell!" Others, much more simple-minded, merely said:
-"One must have been there!" Certain of them, without imagination or
-memory, living entirely in the present moment, shut up within themselves
-an unconscious gravity which was in strange contrast with their youthful
-natures. But in a general way a new nurse like Odette could aver:
-</p>
-<p>
-"But the wounded are not sad!"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Because," some one would reply, "they are all happy at not being dead."
-</p>
-<p>
-Thus, day succeeded day, without softening Odette's personal sorrow, but
-as if shrouding it behind a mourning veil which covered all that she
-could imagine of earth's surface. Everything made her think of Jean, but
-she had not time to appear to be thinking of him, and she shrank from
-speaking of him.
-</p>
-<p>
-She led a very active life. It would happen that just as she sat down at
-table, all alone in the evening in the Elizabeth pavilion, the door-bell
-would ring. It would be one of the volunteer employees, passing along on
-his bicycle to notify the nurses that a train of one hundred and twenty
-wounded men was announced to reach the station at eleven o'clock. By
-half past ten Odette, who would not take a nap, and who knew not what to
-do at home, was already at the hospital, in her cap and blouse. The more
-zealous ones were there, and the more indolent ones as well, welcoming
-the opportunity to get together and gossip. The head physician was
-coming and going, opening and shutting doors; the doctors were arriving
-one by one; the surgeon, all in white, his sleeves turned back to the
-elbows, was talking with the women. The telephone-bell rang; it was the
-police commissioner sending word that the train was an hour late. A few
-persons were in despair; there were some whom the matter moved to
-laughter. Every one waited. And sometimes the train, instead of one
-hour, was two or three hours late. Resignation became general in
-proportion as reasons for impatience accumulated. In the great hall
-where they were all assembled some seated themselves on anything they
-could find, others lay down upon stretchers. Bright conversation grew
-dim with the lights. White-robed women, going up or down stairs on
-tiptoe, seemed like angelic apparitions. Through the partitions came the
-heavy breathing of sleeping men. Suddenly the ringing of a bell startled
-every one; the train was drawing into the station at last. The lights
-were turned up. Ten minutes later the first automobiles were sounding in
-the court. The double-leaved doors were thrown wide, notwithstanding the
-cold, the stretcher-bearers rushed out, and in a moment, contrasting
-with their rapid bounds, came slowly the wounded soldiers, bleeding,
-bearded, covered with earth, wan, exhausted; some of them half-naked,
-some with frozen feet, upheld or carried by sturdy fifteen-year-old
-lads. All were silent, a religious respect hushed the words upon the
-lips. This torn flesh, these rags of French uniform, wrought in the mind
-of every being not utterly insensible a change in his idea of the
-pathetic; something of the atmosphere of the firing-line entered and
-asepticized every heart.
-</p>
-<p>
-The next morning the sense of familiarity returned. But in that one hour
-of the dark winter night, while the surgeon, bending over each victim, was
-asking him almost tenderly: "And you, my child?"&mdash;something august,
-an exhalation of the colossal human sacrifice, penetrated into this
-commonplace old hotel hall, sanctifying it for all time to come. And not
-one of those men or women who had been there, however advanced the hour
-of the night, however visible the fatigue on all their faces, but was
-glad for having been there.
-</p>
-<p>
-Whence came these wounded men? From Ypres, from Arras, from Notre-Dame
-de Lorette. The names called up all that any one knew, through
-newspapers and private talk, of those charnel-houses whose image the
-imagination refuses to harbor, upon which those who have escaped from
-them keep silence.
-</p>
-<p>
-Odette, soapy brush in hand, forcing back all repugnance, doing as
-others did, was helping to soothe agonies which humanity seems never
-before to have known or dreamed of. The most shocking duties no longer
-repelled her. The very effort which she was compelled to make, by the
-contrast between what she was seeing and doing and what life had
-formerly offered her, pressed the character of the catastrophe to her
-mind which lacked capacity to conceive of it. "Is it, then, so great?"
-she would wonder. And even: "Is there after all anything great?" For no
-soul in the world had taught her this. The inevitable contrast with her
-past life, all for herself, for her individual satisfaction, seemed to
-dishonor her memories, even of happiness, making them almost trivial.
-This, indeed, was the opinion of Mme. de Calouas, but not that of
-Amelia, whom in her solitude it became sometimes necessary to oppose.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Madame adopts the ideas of those around her," the maid would say; "it
-is all very well, but Madame may believe me: the good time, and the true
-time, was before all this, when the poor men were not preparing to be
-made into hash."
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<h4><a id="IX">IX</a></h4>
-
-<p>
-Who would have believed it a year ago? Odette took the inclination to
-follow to the cemetery the pitiful funerals of dead soldiers, not
-because it offered her a pretext for a walk into the country in the free
-air, for she had done that&mdash;she, so susceptible to cold&mdash;all
-through the black winter. But before everything else she was thinking
-that she had not followed her husband to the grave. After all that she
-had endured, still reverent of century-old rites, not to have followed
-the body of her husband in a funeral car to his last abode seemed to her
-to have failed in a sovereign duty. Alas! her husband's body had been
-carried in no funeral car, no one had followed him to the grave! She did
-not permit herself to dwell upon these heartrending details, but in
-accompanying the mortal remains of the soldiers she felt that she was to
-a certain degree acquitting herself of an indispensable duty that had
-not been rendered to Jean. Then the ceremony at the church moved her.
-The panoply of war mingling with hymns and words of peace, the tumult of
-battle set over against the sacerdotal acts of the priest, and the
-prayers for the eternal rest of the soul that had known to the uttermost
-the horror of earthly chaos, combined in some way to deaden the pain of
-mind, senses, and heart.
-</p>
-<p>
-The funeral train would climb the narrow, serpentine road which led to
-the old town on the hill. Wounded comrades, hobbling along, their feet
-ill defended from the rough ground by straw slippers, some of them
-lacking an arm and others an eye, would follow the hearse of the poor,
-covered with the tricolor, behind the old parents or the young widow in
-tears; then would come delegates from the municipality and the hospital,
-then kindly disposed followers, pious people, idlers. The hedges would
-be growing green; the farms, with flocks of children at the doors and
-lowing cattle, would be awaking from the sleep of the long winter; one
-could hear the click of the milk-pail as it was set down upon the
-ground, the apple-trees in the fields were great tufts of unsullied
-flowers. When the procession, having climbed the hillside, turned toward
-the right the town came into view, its hotels and casinos transformed
-into hospitals with the floating red cross, its church-towers, its long
-white beach, the boundless sea with its line of English transports,
-untiringly through all the months, bringing from afar British troops to
-the land of France. The whole picture melted away into the national flag
-that covered the body of the little soldier, shot through by a ball on
-the plains of Picardy. In all this there was a new and incomparable
-poetry; the self-sacrifice of a man to something that he hardly
-understands, a notable act in which all desired to participate; and by
-contract the everlasting unconcern, the utter indifference, of nature.
-</p>
-<p>
-Every one, without exception, was thinking of the end of the war. It was
-an illusion wrought by the spring, the renaissance of all that lives,
-the urgent need of peace and happiness that all creatures and plants cry
-out for beneath the returning sun. Those behind the hearse shook their
-heads, saying: "What a calamity!" But all were thinking: "It will surely
-soon be over." They sighed: "My God, grant that this may be the last to
-go!" Alas, it was only the first springtide of the war! If a prophetic
-voice should have cried: "In the spring of next year, in the spring of
-another year, and still of another, this same ceremony will take place,
-the same hopes will be uttered, the same illusions cherished! For season
-shall follow upon season, year upon year, only the horror and
-unhappiness shall be changed, for they shall increase and time shall know
-them out of all proportions that are called reasonable"&mdash;assuredly
-these good people would have been crushed.
-</p>
-<p>
-As they went down the hill they gathered flowers along the roadside. The
-soldiers stopped in the wine-shops where they were given cider, and all
-returned to their places at once moved, saddened, and enriched by hopes,
-as is always the case when a new victim has succumbed.
-</p>
-<p>
-Spring passed, and summer, and autumn.
-</p>
-<p>
-Odette never spoke of her husband's death, though she was always
-thinking of it. She had found neither officer nor soldier who had known
-him. The death of Lieutenant Jacquelin in the early days of the war was
-a disappearance like so many others, in a chain of events that had no
-common measure. A man would fall, another man would take his place;
-nearly all the officers by profession were dead, and there were officers
-still.
-</p>
-<p>
-"What is a man?" a common soldier asked her one day on the beach.
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<h4><a id="X">X</a></h4>
-
-<p>
-Early in the following spring, when the gardens that surrounded the
-villas of Surville were gay with flowering plums, and the countryside
-was again covered with those lovely trees of rosy snow that it is a pain
-to look at when men are killing one another, when the woods were
-venturing to confide to the brisk air their new-born foliage, Odette was
-obliged to make a visit to Paris.
-</p>
-<p>
-During the journey, in company with convalescents and men on furlough,
-old men, and women in mourning, she was astonished to find herself so
-much attached to the hospital which she had entered almost against her
-will, drawn by something which seemed not to belong to her real self.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Most of the women that I have met there," she reflected, "are of an
-unlovely pettiness, and one would say that they strive to transform the
-most innocent act into a shameful offense, from a desire to believe that
-there are traitors, guilty persons everywhere, and by a strange
-inclination to find the presence of the devil in every corner! And yet
-their service is excellent." Cunning malice, destructive backbiting,
-scandal set on foot by inconsiderate comments on trivial acts, often
-meaningless and that might well have been left unnoticed, open jealousy,
-absurd vanity, the most insidious intrigues to work up to distinction;
-to sum up, utter triviality&mdash;all these composed a body of customs
-recognized, admitted, in no respect casting a blot upon respectability.
-Only one thing led up to the mark of infamy: anything which nearly or
-remotely might resemble love.
-</p>
-<p>
-How surprising this had appeared in the eyes of a Parisian woman of
-twenty-seven, who had lived in the world of society during the years
-between 1905 and 1914!
-</p>
-<p>
-Odette mused upon that social circle, young, cheerful, given to sports,
-relatively kindly and prosperous, who before the war had surrounded her.
-</p>
-<p>
-What had become of Simone de Prans, Rose Misson, Clotilde Avvogade,
-Germaine Le Gault, and M. de La Villaumer? She had received brief
-missives from them, postal-cards rather than letters. On her part, had
-Odette perhaps disconcerted her friends by the accounts she sent them;
-had she perhaps wearied them by her persistent grief? Simone and Rose
-still had their husbands, the former grievously wounded, the other still
-whole, running about in his car as usual; Avvogade was attached to Great
-Headquarters. Can any one understand the sorrow from which he does not
-himself suffer?
-</p>
-<p>
-On reaching Paris Odette was singularly impressed. When she had gone to
-Surville in 1914, to forget the war and think only of her dead, she had
-been surprised to find herself on the contrary all the nearer to the
-war. The trains of wounded, life among the wounded, the almost sole
-society of men but recently escaped from death; all this was far
-different from her recluse life in the apartment of the Rue de Balzac,
-which had indeed recalled the memory of Jean, but had also recalled the
-memory of the time of peace. Monotony of occupation, the continual
-living-over of the same emotions, at last dulls the sensibilities. The
-war as it appeared to her after eighteen months of hospital experience
-was a state of things to which her organism and her thought had become
-moulded. The long daily weariness, the constantly renewed effort, dulled
-her senses and confused her perception of events.
-</p>
-<p>
-Paris in March, 1916, seemed to her much more like war than Surville.
-The battle of Verdun was at its height, and all Paris was ringing with
-its echoes wherever one might be. Newspapers, conversations, the
-tramways, the metro, the taxi chauffeur who gave you change, the woman
-who sold you a magazine, servants, masters, the rich, the poor, bank
-employees, even to the sellers of violets in the streets, all brought to
-mind the war and Verdun, yet mutely, less by outcries than by quiet
-words, less by words than by changed color, the graying of the hair or
-of the beard, faded eyes, new wrinkles, and a certain indefinable
-manner. The whole earth and everything that it bears, every creature
-moving upon it, were a single sensitiveness, raised to its most acute
-degree. Acts and gestures apparently most remote from the war,
-receptions, dinners, the crowd at the entrance of the moving-picture
-shows, of classical concerts, of the few remaining music-halls, only
-showed the necessity for certain temperaments to tear themselves away
-from the nightmare of Verdun. Every one was affected by it, and so much
-the more as they were forced to tell themselves: "There are those who
-are suffering infinitely more than we."
-</p>
-<p>
-Odette, in her apartment, was once again overwhelmed by her personal
-sorrow. She had lived in Surville with her grief buried in the depths of
-her heart, for though everything she saw reminded her of Jean she had no
-leisure to give herself to dwelling upon the past. In the Rue de Balzac
-all her sorrow came to meet her entire as on the first day. It seemed as
-if her stay at Surville had done nothing for her. When Simone de Prans
-came to welcome her, it seemed to Odette that her friend had just
-arrived with the terrible news, and she melted into tears. Her tears
-surprised Simone, who dared not reproach her with exaggerating her
-sorrow, but who yet brought herself to give her to understand that so
-long and so violent a grief was not fitting, that no one any longer wept
-like that. Odette, made docile by eighteen months of punctual obedience
-to orders, did not resist, made no objection. "No one any longer wept
-like that"; it was a custom, one of those sovereign customs, which a
-Parisian woman instinctively accepts. Simone had said: "You understand,
-there are too many!" Which signified, such misfortunes are too numerous;
-they are raining down on everybody. The human heart would not be equal
-to its task if it must be always sympathizing; each woman in mourning
-would herself die of it, creating a new and superfluous pain. She spoke
-with the greatest ease of her Pierrot, one leg paralyzed, one arm five
-centimetres shorter than the other and with shattered nerves. He was at
-the Ministry of War, and was content. She told of a ceremony which she
-had accidentally witnessed that morning, passing the Madeleine on her
-way back from the Flower Market. "A fine marriage, you know; red carpet
-on the steps, a crowd to right and left. Just as I was passing the doors
-opened, and up above I saw the young couple."
-</p>
-<p>
-"There are still men to marry?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Listen; she, who appeared to be pretty, a lovely girl, a brunette,
-tall, leaning, as if enamoured, on her husband's arm; he in uniform, his
-decorations flashing on his breast. Oh, the handsome fellow, not thirty
-years old! He held himself upright, splendid, not looking at his feet;
-two large eyes wide open and fixed, as if he were speaking to a
-superior. She seemed to be indicating the steps by a gentle pressure of
-the arm, that he might not lose an inch of his fine height. Behind them
-one could hear the swellings of the great organ. There was an impulse to
-applaud, for he was evidently a hero, unmaimed and superb. Every one was
-glad in the happiness of his charming wife, though pitying her in the
-midst of admiration, for to-morrow her handsome officer must return to
-the firing-line, and the war is endless. Suddenly there was a movement
-in the crowd, murmurs, whisperings, faces turned pale; the handsome
-officer had just missed falling, my dear, notwithstanding the care of
-his young wife to hide his infirmity, for he was blind!"
-</p>
-<p>
-"It's frightful, frightful," exclaimed Odette.
-</p>
-<p>
-She had seen and nursed most grievously wounded soldiers; but
-unconsciously a sort of convention had been established in her mind by
-which nothing that she saw, or that happened in the hospital at
-Surville, should move her. This first result of the war which had faced
-her elsewhere than at Surville, and under another aspect, impressed her
-almost intolerably. On the other hand, Simone had become accustomed to
-the dramatic scenes which at times occur in Paris, where everything is
-perhaps all the more sad because the war drama is close at hand, aping
-normal life. This juxtaposition of the manners of a time of peace and
-these shadows of the pit which mingle with the life of every day, more
-like a prolonged dream than like reality, produce surprising effects
-upon reflective minds.
-</p>
-<p>
-Simone de Prans, who for a time had taken up work in a model hospital,
-an American hospital, was no longer a nurse. That was no longer done.
-</p>
-<p>
-"What about our good Rose?" asked Odette.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Rose Misson has arranged her life. She has resolved not to yield to
-things; she has been too much teased about her old husband, always going
-about in his automobile. Neither Rose nor her husband is disturbed by
-that; he remains on his seat; she dresses, visits the shops as in former
-times and receives the few friends who are not indignant because her
-husband has not lost two or three limbs. Between ourselves, I think she
-is a woman who is doing a great deal of good."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Only she does not cry it upon the housetops?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"No; they will be upbraided for it all their lives, she and her husband;
-he, free from all military obligation, for having 'ambushed' himself in
-his automobile, she for having retained her placid manner, her good
-humor."
-</p>
-<p>
-"I thought that optimism was in fashion."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Optimism, yes, but not naturalness. The approved sort of optimism
-consists in unendingly predicting victory, with the jaw of a tigress,
-and in determinedly transforming all bad news into a presage of success.
-But those who maintain a quiet confidence without talking about it, and
-make life around them more pleasant by their usual good temper, are
-suspected of indifference."
-</p>
-<p>
-"And in all this, what about you, Simone?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Me? I have a husband deep in government councils, haven't I? It is a
-power in these days. People leave me alone."
-</p>
-<p>
-"And Germaine?" asked Odette.
-</p>
-<p>
-Simone appeared somewhat embarrassed. People hardly dared to talk of
-Germaine Le Gault. Germaine Le Gault had lost her husband at about the
-same time with Odette, and almost under the same circumstances. Like
-Odette, Germaine adored her husband. Germaine had taken the loss even
-more deeply to heart than Odette; her life had even been in danger.
-Germaine, like Odette, still wore her deep widow's mourning. And
-Germaine was now in love; in love beyond the possibility of concealment,
-in love with a head physician in whose service she had worked. He was a
-married man and a father.
-</p>
-<p>
-"La Villaumer insists," said Simone, "that in her case it is simply a
-lack of imagination, and that no one should blame her. He says, you
-understand, that she is unable to bring before herself, as you do, for
-example, a vision of her husband. If she had been capable of bearing
-about with her a persistent picture of him, she would have been
-faithful, if it were only to a picture; but she has no imagination; it
-is necessary to her that her mind should rest upon an object. It is one
-explanation&mdash;probably a paradox."
-</p>
-<p>
-At that moment they heard in the neighboring apartment the playing of an
-excellent pianist which had formerly lulled the reveries of Odette when
-she was waiting for Jean. That neighboring apartment, into which the
-Jacquelins had never set foot, was separated from theirs only by a thin
-partition and a door. The music had often fretted Jean, but when Odette
-was alone she had loved to hear it.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Listen!" said Odette. "Oh, it is more than eighteen months since I have
-heard music!"
-</p>
-<p>
-"That is so," said Simone; "in Paris one finds a little of everything
-that one used to love; it is that that hurts."
-</p>
-<p>
-"What is she playing?" asked Simone after a moment.
-</p>
-<p>
-It was a revery; two lovers who are seeking one another, groping in the
-darkness of a garden on a lovely summer night; you hear their hesitating
-footsteps, you suspect their vexed and feverish gestures, their eager
-lips that call one another without imprudently pronouncing a name;
-though their footsteps creak upon the gravel and a fountain drops its
-slow pearls into the basin. Suddenly the music of a waltz attracts them
-separately to the lighted house, and they exchange kisses on the steps
-of the entrance, before being swallowed up in the intoxicating motion.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Oh!" exclaimed Odette, thrilled, "do you remember, do you remember?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"What?" asked Simone.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Why, everything! Everything that happened <i>before</i>, before this end
-of the world that never ends!"
-</p>
-<p>
-Odette, overcome by the harmonious reminder of the waltz of a possible
-festival, of the joy of living, of being pretty, young, beloved, could
-only repeat:
-</p>
-<p>
-"I haven't heard ... anything ... for more than eighteen months, Simone!
-Do you remember that evening at Mme. Sormellier's, at Bellevue, where
-both our husbands were so beautiful?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"And we, too, Odette! We shall be old after the war. We shall have had
-hardly five or six years of youth. I will confess to you that sometimes
-I juggle with fate. I go to see Clotilde, who refuses to permit herself
-to be touched by events. She says: 'I can do nothing about it; I am good
-for nothing. Let the world let me alone as I let it alone! Till my last
-hour I will stay with my flowers, my books, and my music.'"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Ah! Clotilde, yes; do you know, I had forgotten her!"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Everybody is forgetting her, and she forgets everybody. Her husband is
-at Great Headquarters; he often comes. She is a privileged person, and
-she says: 'Why should I not accept all the good that is offered me?'"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Yes," said Odette, "it is tempting, but I could not do it.&mdash;No, I
-could not.&mdash;See, I tried to shut myself up with my grief. Well, I
-could not. It is too great&mdash;this universal sorrow&mdash;too
-absorbing. Listen!"
-</p>
-<p>
-The pianist next door, still devoted to her Chopin, which she performed
-in a remarkable manner, was beginning the First Nocturne, the one that
-contains that phrase of lamentation, heartrending in its sober scheme
-and its sustained phrasing, without outcry or burst of passion, leaving
-the soul to the lasting sense of human woe.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Oh, listen&mdash;listen!"
-</p>
-<p>
-The pianist was accompanying herself with her grave, finely cadenced
-voice, following without words the sinuous course of the thrice-repeated
-utterance of sorrow. Odette began to sob; her nerves were unstrung by
-the apparent return to things of former days, while yet acutely
-conscious of the dreadful present.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I must give up this apartment, after all," she said between her sobs.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Yes, you will have to," replied Simone; "you would be overwhelmed with
-your sense of loss."
-</p>
-<p>
-"For that matter I must give up everything."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Everything? What more, do tell me!"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Myself! See, I cannot delude myself longer."
-</p>
-<p>
-"My poor Odette! You are hardly four days out of your hospital, and you
-go to pieces! We are only kept up by the presence of those who have
-suffered a thousand times more than we. You can't imagine what it is for
-me that my Pierrot has miraculously escaped death, with his body half
-destroyed. It is he who saves me from unhappiness. Those who have looked
-death in the face and yet have returned to life find it beautiful,
-whatever it is, and their wonder at it spreads to all around them."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Yes, yes. I have felt that. If I had my poor Jean, even all broken to
-pieces, I should think only of the joy of having him safe. But I have
-him no longer, and the past draws me, at times, as if some one much
-stronger than I were taking me by the arms and drawing me backward with
-irresistible power. Do you remember Isadora dancing among her children
-and throwing flowers in one of the motives of the ballet of "Armida"?
-And that great fool Antoine Laloire behind us, crying: 'When one has
-seen that one may well say, "Thank you," to God and close one's eyes
-forever!' He had no idea how well he was speaking. They say he had a
-splendid death."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Yes. All our admiration must from this time forward be given to the
-beauty of our warriors. Harmonious forms, enchantment&mdash;we are done
-with them all, my poor child, done with them!"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Done with them! So they say. So I thought, too, when I saw those men
-coming in by the hundreds, reduced to a mass of bleeding pulp; I still
-think so when I think of the long line of devastation which is spreading
-over Europe, of all those human beings who are every day dying around
-their torpedoed vessels; but think! The moment the art of our former
-days is able to realize itself anywhere, beyond a partition, it rises
-upon us like the sun that has been two days hidden. It will rise again,
-Simone! If only a few individuals are left who can hear a note, a
-shepherd will be found to invent the flute once again, by bringing reeds
-together."
-</p>
-<p>
-"You say that because the art of which you are speaking only increases
-your sadness. You are cultivating your sadness, and loving it still. If
-you were less melancholy, like me, you would consent to accept the new
-life just as it offers itself; but you will always see it irremediably
-disfigured, poisoned by an overwhelming horror. Life from henceforth is
-a Lady Macbeth with red and horrific hands, marking with a bloody spot
-everything that it touches. What fine art could flourish except by means
-of men not yet born, men who will not come into the world until after
-this horror is no longer spoken about?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Remember what those poor friends of ours used to say when they talked
-so well in our gatherings of former days: the flowers that bloom on
-graves are as fresh and the harvests that grow on battlefields are more
-abundant than those on fields that have never known crime and death;
-they are innocent, divinely innocent of all the past. The souls of
-artists are like flowers; and they purify the imaginations that have
-been soiled."
-</p>
-<p>
-"And the conclusion is that you and I both, my dear, have after all a
-good share of optimism, otherwise called a reserve strength upon which
-we can draw for a certain time. Let us hope it may be for a long time.
-And we find the same thing under the distress of nearly all men. Ah, how
-strong life is!"
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<h4><a id="XI">XI</a></h4>
-
-<p>
-Odette began a round of visits.
-</p>
-<p>
-For the most part they were visits of condolence. She went first to Mme.
-de Blauve, who had lately lost her young son, that charming boy of
-seventeen whom Odette had seen for a second in the Avenue d'Iena flying
-to the recruiting-office, to take the place of his father, who had been
-killed in the second month of the war. Mme. de Blauve had come back from
-Rheims, where at that time she had been a nurse, under unceasing
-bombardments; she had returned to her daughters, who were now growing
-up. Odette found the family no more crushed or morose than at the first
-time. The father, Commandant de Blauve, adored by all, was dead; the
-elder son, in his nineteenth year, was dead.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Happily," said Mme. de Blauve, "I have one left."
-</p>
-<p>
-"How old is he?" asked Odette anxiously.
-</p>
-<p>
-"He is about to enlist," said Mme. de Blauve simply. "Through him, I
-hope that our name will be represented to the end."
-</p>
-<p>
-Every one knew that this last son was her Benjamin, petted more than all
-her other children. Her present anxiety was for her daughters; she would
-fain have married them at once.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Marry them!" cried Odette; "but to whom, at such a time as this?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"To good young soldiers, that they may soon have children."
-</p>
-<p>
-Not the slightest emotion, though the family was truly affectionate; one
-single idea&mdash;to come to the defense of the country, by whatever means.
-Odette could not but admire, though at the same time she trembled.
-</p>
-<p>
-"How far advanced is your mourning?" asked Mme. de Blauve almost
-severely.
-</p>
-<p>
-"What?" asked Odette.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I mean, how long is it since you lost you dear husband?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Just eighteen months," replied Odette.
-</p>
-<p>
-"You are young," said Mme. de Blauve; "my child, you still have duties
-to perform."
-</p>
-<p>
-"But," said Odette, bewildered, "I am doing what I can."
-</p>
-<p>
-"We will speak again of it in a few months," said Mme. de Blauve. "I
-shall not lose sight of you. I count you among the <i>good</i> ones."
-</p>
-<p>
-She dwelt upon the word "good" as she bade Odette good-by.
-</p>
-<p>
-Odette did not in the least grasp Mme. de Blauve's meaning. Did she find
-her "good" because she had for a long time been conscientiously doing a
-nurse's duties, and did she think of sending her to some difficult post,
-requiring courage and constancy? She was cheerfully ready for anything.
-Only one thing troubled her; it was that the memory of Jean seemed to be
-relegated to so distant a past, seemed to hold so small a place in the
-thoughts of the people whom she was about to see, she being still in
-deep mourning, and having been away only seventeen months, to mourn for
-Jean.
-</p>
-<p>
-Why did Odette go directly from the Avenue d'Iena to see Clotilde? Not
-in the least by reason of the love of contrast, or the need for it, but
-because she was passing the Place of the United States, which attracted
-her with its trees adorned with their young leafage.
-</p>
-<p>
-She found Clotilde as she had always found her, extended upon an ancient
-couch, amid twenty cushions, a dozen books and magazines, in an elegant
-room, with a bunch of carnations flaunting their glory, and hyacinths in
-pots surrounding the young woman with a fragrant suggestion of spring.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Ah!" exclaimed Odette as she entered, without quite perceiving the
-significance of her exclamation.
-</p>
-<p>
-Clotilde, perfumed and her tall figure clothed in a Babani robe, kissed
-her joyfully.
-</p>
-<p>
-"You haven't fallen off much, Odette. Tell me, are these your cheeks? No
-more rouge than in the old days? Oh, how often I think of your loss, my
-dear!"
-</p>
-<p>
-She was the first person, except La Villaumer, who had spoken to her of
-her loss. Then there was still some one who remembered what had been her
-happiness, her extraordinary happiness.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I haven't written to you, Odette, because I was too lazy, and because I
-need to imagine the face of the person to whom I write. So far away,
-under your nurse's cap, I couldn't tell&mdash;you are pretty; I love you
-always. Oh, how sorry I am for you!"
-</p>
-<p>
-Odette, surprised, embarrassed, still under the influence of the life
-she had been leading, spoke as every one did:
-</p>
-<p>
-"There are so many of us who deserve to be pitied."
-</p>
-<p>
-"No, Odette, no; I am not saying that. No doubt there are many widows
-and many young women whose husbands or lovers are maimed, disfigured,
-ruined. But there are not many who, before all that, have truly enjoyed
-life and love. You have known love. You have had a few years that are
-worth being regretted."
-</p>
-<p>
-Tears rose to Odette's eyes. They were tears that gave no pain, which
-rather comforted her. It seemed that she had long been waiting to shed
-such tears. She had so constantly heard conventional words, forced
-expressions, the result of a strained situation which there was surely
-no reason to criticise; but, except from her wounded soldiers, she had
-not before heard words simply human.
-</p>
-<p>
-Clotilde was not afraid to talk persistently of Jean, not because she
-felt that at bottom she was giving pleasure to her friend, but because
-her thoughts naturally turned to attractive things, and she loved to
-remember that charming couple of perfect lovers that Jean and Odette had
-been. Never having checked her instinct, it now told her that Odette, in
-spite of her tears, enjoyed the revival of these memories. It was not
-Jean the soldier, Jean the hero, whose praises Clotilde sang. Odette had
-heard so many praises of heroes! She had handled so many with her own
-hands! There had never been but one Jean. He was Jean, just Jean, a
-fine, good, and handsome fellow who had nothing military, nothing
-surprising about him, except just that he was beloved. Who had dared to
-talk to her of that Jean since the war? No one. Clotilde was doing it in
-the unconsciousness of a woman who was still what she had been
-<i>before</i>. And Odette had felt some apprehension about seeing
-Clotilde again, just because she had feared that Clotilde had really not
-changed enough!
-</p>
-<p>
-The interview was soothing, even delightful to her. Clotilde seemed
-almost to have forgotten the war&mdash;a little more and she would have
-made her forget it. She talked of the books that she was reading; books
-written earlier than the present time; she talked, too, laughingly of
-her clothes, on the pretext of the diminished resources of the family;
-she spoke of certain middle-aged and even old men, saying that they had
-not been appreciated in the days when there had been plenty of young
-fellows. She offered her friend a cigarette; she smoked, and the two
-women looked at each other through curls of long, light clouds, as if in
-a dream.
-</p>
-<p>
-Odette went out somewhat amazed at the incredible ivory tower which
-Clotilde had succeeded in building around her youth, her beauty, and her
-selfishness.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Is Clotilde selfish?" she asked herself, as she turned from the Square
-of the United States. "And yet how she asked about my Jean! Clotilde is
-like every one else; she is interested in just one thing, has a passion
-for it. She has kept as by a miracle the one thing that she had before
-the war, and that is love. Everything that represents love captivates
-her; one feels that she gives herself up to it. The others yield to a
-different passion which, by the conditions of our time, takes on a more
-sympathetic form. Mme. de Blauve with sacred fury throws all her family
-into the jaws of Moloch; Mme. de Calouas, in Surville, has a passion
-only for the wounded, exclusively for wounded soldiers; I have seen her
-utterly insensible to an accident to a civilian; most of those women in
-the hospital had a passion for their duties there, thought themselves
-degraded when they had not the number of beds that satisfied their
-pride, lamented as if for a public misfortune when, by chance, fewer
-wounded soldiers came. There are even people whose passion it is to have
-no passions&mdash;and they are the most to be dreaded. Why should Clotilde
-deprive herself of her bouquet of carnations, her pot of hyacinths, her
-perfumed cigarettes, while they serve to create around her the illusion
-by which she lives, and of which, when the occasion comes, she gives her
-weary friends the benefit for a whole hour? Yet, could I do like her?
-No; decidedly not. Did not I, then, love love as she does? I do not
-know, I loved Jean. Then I am less simple than she; everything affects
-me. And everything is shaken. I am not flattering myself when I
-recognize that I am alive to more than one thing. I wanted to be wholly
-devoted to one&mdash;to my sorrow. I believe that I am alive only to my
-grief, and yet sometimes I think that in this I am mistaken."
-</p>
-
-<p><br /></p>
-
-<p>
-That day she felt an overwhelming lassitude. Clotilde had lapped her in
-"soft odors." As she was asking herself how she could finish the day she
-bethought her that she had been told that Mme. Leconque was another
-Clotilde, that is to say, a fairy capable of drawing one out of the war
-mood, though she belonged to a social set that was just now holding it
-as a great honor to give to it unstintingly both life and fortune.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I must not fail of seeing her," said Odette to herself, "and just now I
-prefer another Clotilde to a second Mme. de Blauve, who makes me
-shudder." She took a taxi to the end of the Avenue du Bois.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mme. Leconque was at home and alone. Muffled up in an ermine coverlet,
-in a room brightened by a wood-fire large enough to warm an
-assembly-room in the city hall, and surrounded by objects of art,
-ancient trinkets, Watteaux, Fragonards, she lay on a couch near a
-majestic bed, high and royal, covered with Venetian point, determinedly
-knitting, amid yawns, little stockings of coarse wool, for refugee
-children.
-</p>
-<p>
-"You, at least, have had enough of this butchery," she said.
-</p>
-<p>
-Odette, under her mourning-veil, admitted that for her part she found no
-pleasure in it.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I should be glad to know," went on Mme. Leconque, "what sort of a life
-they are giving us."
-</p>
-<p>
-Odette looked around at the great wood-fire, the walls of the room, a
-perfect museum, and at the silky fleece that enwrapped the form of the
-dissatisfied woman.
-</p>
-<p>
-"They have just telephoned me," Mme. Leconque went on, "that we have
-evacuated Malancourt. Just look at my stockings, if you call them
-stockings! I admit that I never paid seventy-five francs a pair for
-mine&mdash;I always sent to London for them and got them at thirty-five
-francs. And to-day I am wearing stockings at 3 francs 95!"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Why do you?" asked Odette.
-</p>
-<p>
-"You would despise me if I paid more for them, in these days. You are in
-mourning, my poor dear; you don't think about these matters. Do you know
-where we are all getting our clothes? In the Rue d'Alesia, my child, in
-a store where they sell ribbons on the main floor for eight sous a
-metre, and up-stairs you find models of all the great Paris dressmakers
-at a third of the regular price. You might go there out of curiosity;
-I'll take you, if you like. You will find ten autos at the door, lined
-up before the tin-shop, the general shops, the house-painters, and the
-wine-shops. And where do you think we try on? Anywhere, no matter where.
-On the staircase, in the corridors, in the shop itself, three women
-together, not to speak of the old husbands and the men on leave, in a
-little parlor decorated with two opposite mirrors! Absolute promiscuity,
-a mob that reminds you of the old Neuilly fair; broken windows, no heat,
-and drafts of air that pierce through the lungs! My dear, I bought a
-charmeuse gown there for one hundred and seventy-five francs that would
-have cost seven hundred and fifty at Lanvin's! The Duchess of
-Chateauruque goes there; the wife of the ambassador from X. goes, too.
-Can you imagine such a thing? Oh! we run against picturesque things
-during this war! Do you believe that life can go on this way?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"I don't think so, indeed," said Odette.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I see that you aren't pitying us. Well, for my part I tell you that I
-have had enough of this war, and that I despise it! Do you understand? I
-despise it. Ugh! ugh! and ugh!"
-</p>
-<p>
-Odette returned home along the darkening streets, thinking of Mme. de
-Blauve, the terrible. She felt much indulgence for Mme. de Blauve, the
-terrible.
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<h4><a id="XII">XII</a></h4>
-
-<p>
-Odette had bought a newspaper. During the night the Germans had made a
-series of massed attacks, debouching upon Malancourt from three
-directions at once. Our troops had evacuated the devastated village
-"while keeping its outlets."
-</p>
-<p>
-Once again she tried to take refuge in her memories of love. But this
-evening the portraits of Jean that she saw around her did not speak to
-her of love. She felt that Jean, if he were there, would not talk of
-love that evening, but would turn away like an overwrought man to whom
-the beloved one insists upon saying: "Kiss me!" She could distinctly see
-the gesture which, however, she had seldom known. She could almost hear
-Jean saying: "My little love, I am anxious.... It is not that I lack
-confidence, but they are advancing step by step; it is disquieting,
-disquieting. You will think me cruel, but I should be glad to go back
-there. I would rather be there, do you see?" If he had been with her on
-permission he would have gone back! What torture! And she said to
-herself: "If he had not been killed the second month he would have been
-killed since then: twenty months without respite under the shells!"
-</p>
-<p>
-Days passed; the German attack upon Verdun wrought upon the great public
-of France a great silence. No noise, not an exclamation, no excesses in
-Paris; an imposing calm; a quiet crowd upon the boulevards, perfect
-order even on Sunday; almost gayety around the men who were home on
-leave who went about surrounded by young women in short skirts, Anamite
-caps or toques borrowed from the Palais, painfully walking on
-extravagantly high heels! Between four o'clock and seven every one was
-reading the newspaper. They were sold all through the city, not with
-loud shouts as if all Europe had been put to fire and sword, as when
-celebrated trials were going on; now that Europe actually was put to
-fire and sword, with less uproar than after the Auteuil races. In almost
-every heart the sublimity of the French struggle, the universal respect
-which it evoked throughout the world, overcame apprehension, stifled the
-sense of uncounted losses, and dominated that crater on the banks of the
-Meuse, in eruption over an extent of thirty-five kilometres, its lava
-overwhelming a whole countryside.
-</p>
-<p>
-Odette was invited to dine with officers who had returned from that
-hell, who were going back to it; and these men talked futilities like
-every one else: partly from kindliness, partly for their own pleasure,
-or in courteous resumption of the decorum of former days. Between two
-witticisms they would relate an episode such as no story of the age of
-fable could offer. Many of them were men who two years before had danced
-the tango, whom strait-laced old twaddlers had in those days held up to
-opprobrium. Thus Odette met again a young fellow of twenty-four, a
-captain, an officer of the Legion of Honor, lacking several fingers,
-wounded in the leg and the breast. He had the same simplicity, the same
-childlike grace, as in the old time at the Casino in Surville, and yet
-he had taken part in actions infinitely more grand than those of the
-Homeric heroes or of the wars of Cæsar or Alexander.
-</p>
-<p>
-He kissed a lady's hand, and that same evening went back to the jaws of
-the volcano. And that same week the word came that after having been
-three times buried alive in the undermined earth, his young body had
-been blown to atoms on Hill 304.
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<h4><a id="XIII">XIII</a></h4>
-
-<p>
-The next morning, her friend La Villaumer having come to see her, she
-introduced a subject which had been tormenting her.
-</p>
-<p>
-"The individuality of the soldier is not obliterated," said La
-Villaumer. "Either he expects to come through safe, believing himself to
-be a privileged person among the unlucky, or else he says to himself, 'I
-shall die, but it will be for something worth while,' and that even
-exalts his individuality. When that disappears or becomes attenuated it
-is by excess of suffering, of hoping against hope for the end of all
-that he is enduring&mdash;mud, cold, the incessant wooing of death, and
-ills without number, have annihilated in him all power of thought and
-feeling. And still it would be speaking too strongly to say that he goes
-deliberately to meet death. Never has any living being failed to pay to
-death the honor of a particular deference."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Do you think," asked Odette, "that one's individuality can be suddenly
-lost, or is it not rather unconsciously modified from day to day? You
-see, in the latter case no one can tell how far the metamorphosis may
-go! I see many people who have changed in the last eighteen months, and
-who seem not to be aware of it. I feel very clearly that I myself am
-different. I find only one part of myself unchanged; the part which
-binds me to the memory of my poor husband; nothing there is modified
-even in the very slightest degree&mdash;nothing; when I have leisure to
-think intently of him, I become again precisely the woman I used to be."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Yes, but with grief in addition."
-</p>
-<p>
-"That is true."
-</p>
-<p>
-"It is that which modifies us. It broadens us when it finds a heart in
-us, and for that matter it exists only so far as it finds a heart. It
-holds within itself many possibilities. Your grief began with embracing
-your personal calamity; that alone; and it still hugs it to itself, that
-is most natural; but it has unconsciously taken a further step,
-embracing the sorrows of others, a change which you never looked for.
-And that is making of you another person."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Will every one like me find themselves a tone above or below what they
-used to be&mdash;as if the whole keyboard had been transposed?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"I do not think so," said La Villaumer. "Nature changes little. Only
-sensitive souls are modified, and they are rare. It is they who at last,
-at the long last, act upon and change those around them. Characters
-change little, never fear! Yet this war will have been so intense that
-those at least who have had a part in it will retain something of it,
-like a strong leaven which will cause new things to germinate. We must
-expect new things; but we must not look to see the human race thrown off
-its centre. Historians, sociologists will have their work to do, while
-philosophers, moralists, the general run of writers may go on as they
-have done. The word 'democracy,' for instance, will cover much
-paper&mdash;&mdash;"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Do you believe in such a thing, yourself?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"I believe in the word as I believe in all words. It is a mistake to
-disdain the old-fashioned verbalism&mdash;rhetoric, eloquence. The majority
-of words are hollow&mdash;yes, but they are hollow like bells whose
-sonorousness may by itself shake the whole world. Those who use words
-are inspired by various things, and generally by sentiments that they
-cannot acknowledge; yet the word touches the finest chords in the soul
-of men whom one wants to win over. 'Democracy' has a tone&mdash;&mdash;"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Which will work good?&mdash;or evil?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Alas! The popular instinct and an inevitable necessity urge men, in
-spite of words, to enslave themselves, and they will of their own accord
-submit to the tyranny of new leaders, new groups representing interests
-of which the crowd will know nothing. Almost all my pessimism is founded
-on the irresistible character of this law. Men must be commanded, and no
-one can be sure that those who command will not abuse their authority or
-the confidence which is freely granted to them. However, the official
-programme of democracy will be to devote all its effort to the
-well-being of poor humans who have not an average of fifty years to live
-in this world, who no longer believe in another world, and who in truth
-have some legitimate aspirations to live their few years for their own
-benefit, and with as little pain as possible."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Poor men!"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Yes, 'poor men!' That expresses the immense pity that will well up in
-every breast, throughout the entire universe. Fate will have demanded
-much of the human race. No doubt man has suffered through all time; but in
-a manner so prolonged and so scientifically cruel&mdash;no! At all events,
-never have men suffered in such great numbers; never have they been so
-acutely conscious of their sufferings. And then, in former times men who
-suffered had not been learnedly informed that the world had come to the
-end of suffering. Those who are suffering now believed themselves to
-have reached the highest point of a period of progress in every
-direction. Never had man more firmly believed himself to be on the
-border of the Promised Land, than at the very moment when he stumbled
-into the infernal pit! What an aggravation of torment! Men may have been
-sacrificed for far-off ends which too often have not been attained; they
-may have been obliged, merely for their own preservation as living
-beings, to obliterate their own intelligence, and to become through long
-years&mdash;they themselves have said it&mdash;a sort of brute. Those who
-will survive will not ask the meaning of subtleties, or will not be in a
-condition to understand them. They will have only one thought: 'And now,
-what of me, me, me?'"
-</p>
-<p>
-"A revival of individuality, then?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Yes, but of a fierce individuality, in which all that has for so long a
-time been stifled within them will urge them on to mistaken acts; or
-else of an exhausted individuality which will be the prey of exploiters
-never known before."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Then you do not believe in a general betterment after this upheaval?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"I only believe in more or less prolonged periods during which faith in
-betterment is possible."
-</p>
-<p>
-"But, after all, man has goodness within him! He carries an ideal in his
-breast!"
-</p>
-<p>
-"That is to say that he carries within himself&mdash;nowhere but in
-himself&mdash;that small portion of happiness which he may ever hope to
-attain. In fact, I hold him to be truly happy only as he exercises
-goodness, or as he aspires to what he deems the best. Man, the child,
-the savage, very clearly recognizes justice, much less clearly the
-beautiful; but the idea of the beautiful, however imperfect it may be in
-him, moves and may make him better. If he permits himself to slide down
-those inclines which deviate from these ideas, he may experience a dizzy
-joy of a bad kind. He may work himself up to enjoy strange pleasures,
-but seldom without at the same time perceiving that he is duping
-himself, and that pure and deep joy is not in these things. Yes, it is
-in himself that man finds his sole source of felicity, as the glowworm
-his light. It may be that justice is entirely inapplicable and the
-beautiful wholly conventional, but what we may be sure of is that the
-inclination toward the just and the beautiful is most fruitful in happy
-results, though they will perhaps never find absolute realization."
-</p>
-<p>
-"That is all very well; but in fact you believe neither in beauty nor in
-justice!"
-</p>
-<p>
-"I believe in the passionate endeavor of man toward beauty and justice."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Which he will never attain?"
-</p>
-<p>
-La Villaumer suddenly changed his tone, and gazing smilingly upon the
-young woman said:
-</p>
-<p>
-"That would be paradise, my dear friend; be reasonable!"
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<h4><a id="XIV">XIV</a></h4>
-
-<p>
-It was the last hour of an April afternoon; budding foliage on the
-trees, the Arc de Triomphe, upon which every saunterer who looks to-day,
-looks with the vision of the triumphal procession to come, and the
-Champs-Elysées, unequalled promenade, which Odette and La Villaumer had
-so often seen crowded and joyful, in the days when the world was happy.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Do you remember? Oh, you were a little girl, loving to hang around
-Guignol and trail after the goat-carts. But I was then no longer very
-young. Do you remember the time when there were no automobiles, and when
-the victorias used to go slowly down the street bearing beautifully
-dressed women whom one had time to admire, to criticise, to recognize,
-and salute? The auto is perfect, but the best it can do is to rush from
-one place to another, and that has by no means the interest of the daily
-procession, when it seemed that every one still had time to live. Excuse
-my capricious imagination, but it seems to me that these machines were
-made just to bring us with all the more haste to the frightful time in
-which we are living. I dare say this to you because I know that you are
-not going to remind me that autos are rendering admirable service to the
-war, especially at this very time. You think, like me, that they also
-render service to our enemies, and that all these rapid means of
-reaching the battlefield coincide with a war without a conceivable end.
-In a general way, scientific inventions&mdash;don't confuse them with the
-sciences, which merit all veneration&mdash;conspire to give to this war a
-character of atrocity to which no armed conflict has ever attained, and
-I wish that it could be proved to me that they alleviate it in equal
-proportion. Think only of the horror which this 'progress' in the art of
-extermination inspires. How many brains are unable to resist it?
-Civilians are dying every day, and the best of them, who go to pieces
-merely from imagining the war. We see them fall like the hollow bark
-which still seems to support a tree. You yourself did not know in your
-childhood the amazement that Jules Verne's 'Nautilus' caused. But you
-witnessed the crazy conduct of your contemporaries the first time they
-saw an airship sailing about in the air. It was pretty, to be sure, and
-the audacity of the early pilots roused us all to enthusiasm. Recall to
-mind the saying that was current on the greensward at Deauville when
-twelve airplanes arrived from Havre, three hundred metres above the
-earth, all rosy in the sunset rays. 'The flying Peace,' some one said.
-I shrugged my shoulders sorrowfully, because I know that in the face of
-an astounding invention one must always think of the homicidal use to
-which man may put it. Man has once again stolen the fire of heaven; a
-new Zeus will punish him for it. Humanity will blindly and with ecstasy
-invent the instrument of its own destruction. By means of an admirable
-scientific instrument it will commit wholesale suicide with a beatific
-smile. Man has already abdicated in favor of a machine. The war that is
-being waged is a war no longer of men but of material. Man is belittled;
-the machine surpasses him! A rudimentary intelligence suffices to set
-the true force in motion. We are still believers in the ancient saying
-that the true force is manly virtue, the fine, old-fashioned bravery. We
-have belittled the only thing in the world which might be wholly
-great&mdash;man. Do we profess to worship that bravery of man which all the
-past has justified? Why, by the scientific character of war it has
-become&mdash;one dares permit himself the blasphemy&mdash;almost a sign of
-inferiority. We reckon upon the mystical value of our bravery, and we
-send our men by the thousands against an army of tools! By virtue of our
-century-old prejudices we honor only the man who exposes himself,
-sacrifices himself, furnishes, however uselessly, his proofs of courage,
-when the glory of our arms will belong to him who shall most securely
-have sheltered his divisions behind gigantic steam-hammers! The applied
-sciences have caused a moral revolution. By riveting man, who is before
-all else a soul, to material elements, they have destroyed whatever
-might be justifiable in the great contests of humanity. A paltry little
-engineer behind his disguised heavy cannon, or with his mitrailleuse
-under thirty metres of cement, counts for more than our superb heroes
-with their courage, their loyalty, and their white gloves. Man, chained
-like a galley-slave to a machine, to a chemical substance, is forced to
-unlearn what it is to be a man. He appears very intelligent when he is
-equipped with algebra and terminology; yes, we must grant to matter all
-that it can give, but pause a little: have you not an impression that
-something superior is lacking in so abnormal a compound? They have
-domesticated the forces of nature; they believe themselves Titans; and
-there they stand glowering at one another like beasts; they cannot
-distinguish themselves from these material fabrics that surprise and
-overwhelm them. They call themselves masters of matter, and matter is
-all the time jeering at them. Engineering genius is probably not the
-result of a knowledge of matter, but of a knowledge of man."
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<h4><a id="XV">XV</a></h4>
-
-<p>
-At that period people were still dulling their senses with words and
-stupefying their minds with discussions, if so they might divert them
-from that one place which for the time being was as the pivot of the
-world, upon which they had for six months felt that all depended, as two
-years before all had for ten days depended upon the battle of the Marne.
-</p>
-<p>
-La Villaumer went to his club; his lip curled with an almost wicked
-smile at the thought of the ridiculously false news which that evening,
-as every other, he was about to hear. Then he reflected that the
-charming Odette, whom he had just quitted was very young, and asked
-himself whom she might marry.
-</p>
-<p>
-Odette, still carried away with the life at Surville, sick at heart with
-those friends of hers who were doing nothing but dying of <i>ennui</i> and
-so demoralizing those around them, found comfort in frequenting such hives
-of activity as the Franco-Belgian headquarters and its numerous annexes,
-all congregated in the same building on the Champs-Elysées, where it
-seemed that all the misery of the world was perpetually going up and
-down its staircases, without respite and without end. She would go there
-as if in answer to a summons. So many, so many unfortunates who had lost
-their dearest possessions, their house, their village church! Meeting
-them on the muddy steps, she seemed to see, reflected in their startled
-eyes, a bit of countryside, a poplar-bordered road, a bit of garden, a
-hillside, fields of beets or of wheat. She had travelled, she knew all
-those sights which are the natural companions of the life of men. The
-odor of the hamlets came back to her, the warm breath of stables, the
-noisome scent of stagnant pools, the sharp smell of the tanneries in the
-north, the balsamic fragrance of cedar smoke from the bakeries, the
-appetizing aroma of warm bread, so little known in Paris. Then she would
-picture to herself the bewilderment of all these folk who had found
-refuge in a great, strange city to which they were not born, of these
-families who would never, never again see anything but the ruins of
-their villages, their countryside made unrecognizable by the absence of
-every elm, every bit of woods! She could have embraced them as they
-passed her; she longed to give them everything she possessed, things
-which, alas! could not replace what they had lost!
-</p>
-<p>
-She thought to herself: "What have they done? Of what are these people
-guilty? Why are these men tortured? Why were they captured and their
-poor homes and little fields destroyed, and the sons of their blood, who
-alone gave a moral meaning to their lives? Why were not these people
-masters of themselves? Why were they the prey of bandits who consider
-even their own people as puppets, created to serve their vainglory as
-soldiers, and who care less for the existence of thousands of living
-creatures than a child for his tin soldiers?" Her heart throbbed, her
-soul revolted. She reached the top of the stairs.
-</p>
-<p>
-To this building she had come without invitation to see an American
-woman who was freely and calmly consecrating her fortune, her
-intelligence, and her time to the unfortunates of the war. She came to
-ask if there was not something that she could do. The American woman
-looked at her with a smile.
-</p>
-<p>
-"You have something better to do for your country."
-</p>
-<p>
-"What?" asked Odette.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Oh, we will speak of that later."
-</p>
-<p>
-This answer had already been made to her. It had been said to her even
-at Surville, in the hospital, and with a mysterious air.
-</p>
-<p>
-She was disturbed by it, and spoke of it, on a venture, to Simone de
-Prans, whom she saw that evening.
-</p>
-<p>
-Simone and her husband both smiled as the American lady had done.
-</p>
-<p>
-"What do you all mean?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Don't be disturbed," said Pierre de Prans seriously; "take care of
-yourself. A woman like you has services to give."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Well, I must do something," said Odette, trembling under her veil, "and
-as it is, I am doing absolutely nothing with my ten fingers!"
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<h4><a id="XVI">XVI</a></h4>
-
-<p>
-"Whenever the cloud of anguish rises even a little from the sky of
-Paris," said La Villaumer, "this city, so marvellously alive, clasps to
-itself life, of whatever kind, with a simple, natural impulse, without
-immoderation, but with a secret smile, always ready. Yet this power of
-life, on the whole so beautiful, has something that brings a frown to
-the brow of the onlooker; for it has within it insensibility and
-forgetfulness.
-</p>
-<p>
-"How disconcerting it is to see this new, mutilated humanity, pass in
-the streets almost without attracting attention. Young men in uniform,
-or returned to civil life minus a leg, on crutches, with an artificial
-limb, leaning on a cane like an old man, with an empty coat sleeve, an
-eye gone, nothing left of the nose but two breathing-holes, the jaw
-moulded over like a lump of potter's clay&mdash;or led along, sightless!
-They hardly arouse compassion, seldom even curiosity. There are so many of
-them! You can see the like in any place. War crosses, military medals,
-the Legion of Honor on the breast of a mere youth, which at one time
-would have attracted admiring glances and brought tears to women's eyes,
-are now hardly noticed. There are so many who have received or have
-deserved them! Most of those who possess them now wear only the ribbon
-on their jackets like civilians. The long duration and the barbarism of
-the war have spoiled everything. Men whose exploits cast into the shade
-the most famous examples of history with which the memory of school
-children is crammed, refuse to be called heroes. Heroes! There are so
-many of them! It was not to distinguish themselves, nor to cover their
-families with honor, nor even to set a noble example, that so many men
-have wrought prodigies; they did them modestly, because they had to be
-done in order to put an end to an abomination. With many the idea even
-of the country is attenuated in favor of something which makes much less
-appeal to the heart, the motive of which is only the cold persuasion
-that militarism must be destroyed; one must fight for very hatred of
-fighting. And here is something new, this vast uprising for war is
-producing no enthusiasm for war; it is animated only by hatred of war.
-All these brave men, riddled like sieves, rescued from an ordeal without
-precedent, are cherishing no ambition to march in a procession of
-victors, under waving flags, amid the acclamations of women, children,
-and old men; they had the rudimentary purpose of the peasant who
-struggles with a mad dog, and who having downed him digs a hole, buries
-the carrion, washes his hands at the pump, and goes in to dinner.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Germany has robbed man of his divine childhood. In less than two years
-all these men have grown old; that charming faculty of innocent
-enthusiasm which had often deceived him, but which had given him joys
-never to be replaced, has been withered. The most deplorable ruins which
-the monster has spread abroad over our land are perhaps not so much the
-splendid monuments of Belgium and France, as the youth of humanity, that
-had seemed eternal, that was bearing it on to a great outburst of a
-common hope&mdash;faith in Fraternity, faith in Liberty, faith in Justice,
-potent religion of Progress. Cold reason, like the German gas, has
-poisoned all this fresh and ebullient vigor. The whole world has become
-allied, only to strangle a jackal. No man who has come back from the too
-severe ordeal will ever again feel the desire to enjoy the days that yet
-remain to him. Scepticism, which used to seem only a way of looking at
-things, cherished by very distinguished gentlemen, has now taken
-possession of the mass. But it has become commonplace, and so has ceased
-all relations with its brother, dilettantism. You will see what sort of
-thing realistic scepticism will become."
-</p>
-<p>
-"People will always dream," said Odette.
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<h4><a id="XVII">XVII</a></h4>
-
-<p>
-Odette returned to Surville in the beginning of August. It was a time of
-great heat. The second anniversary of mobilization had been observed.
-War had become an accepted condition. Many already found it difficult to
-remember a state of peace. At the hospital there were even discussions
-as to how things had been there before the war. There were those who,
-though they had then been living in Surville, could not recall them to
-mind. "You remember the inaugural address of the head doctor, the 16th
-of August, before the first train of wounded came?" Some of the women
-insisted that he had given an antimilitarist lecture; others that he had
-spoken only against alcohol; others that he had given an eloquently
-patriotic address; some said that it was not he who had spoken, but the
-surgeon, a very handsome man; and still others that the address was
-given on another date. One lady could only remember the first time she
-had posed to the photographer in white blouse and cap. The first arrival
-of wounded, who had come from Charleroi on August 25, were confused with
-those who had come in September. Two years! What a long time when one
-has seen only wretchedness upon wretchedness! Nothing pleasant for
-twenty-four months! The communiqué of the battle of the Marne? Yes,
-that counted for something; but at the time no one understood its full
-importance; there had been no public rejoicing. Our later long and
-magnificent victories that merely held back the enemy presented to the
-mind nothing like what is generally thought of as military success; it
-was only after a while that their importance was recognized, when new
-misfortunes had touched us elsewhere. Two years of dull, black
-weariness, of constant apprehension, of bereavement upon bereavement.
-</p>
-<p>
-This year a good many foreigners had invaded the beach. The
-tennis-courts were occupied by young men from beyond the sea, bringing
-up the memory of former days; the crowd was enlivened by a profusion of
-multicolored Japanese lanterns; the sea dashed against the glossy flesh
-of women who seemed as natural as Aphrodite; automobiles were almost as
-much in the way as in happier days; and between the rows of tents among
-the manifold tints of colored stuffs, beside the waves where so many
-beautiful limbs were disporting themselves, was a race of beings that
-might have been deemed peculiar, coming, going, or remaining motionless;
-they were the men who had escaped from the fire. They wore nondescript
-garments, they lacked one limb or even two, they hobbled, their armpits
-strained by crutches, or lay at length on the warm sand, smoking, timid
-of appearance, exchanging remarks hardly comprehensible, keeping silent,
-too, thinking&mdash;of what?
-</p>
-<p>
-This last spectacle alone seemed in Odette's eyes to merit
-consideration. She had lived the greater part of the time among the
-wounded, she had also lived in Paris with the social world. "All is
-over," she would say to herself; "nothing will heal all this; it is mere
-mummery to ape the life of other days; all that is blotted out; La
-Villaumer was right when he said: 'Men have suffered too much.'"
-</p>
-<p>
-It was in this very place&mdash;there, opposite, at the hotel&mdash;that
-she had become acquainted with Jean. They were pleased with one another
-at the first glance, carried out of themselves, even. She remembered how
-mad with love she had been in those garden walks, between those
-tennis-screens, on that beach, and along that terrace which now she was
-treading overwhelmed with despair, a despair that she could not name,
-greater than herself, greater than the broad horizon of the sea, greater
-than all things.
-</p>
-<p>
-She had forgotten nothing. She recalled all the preludes of marriage,
-then those first vacations, their dual solitude in the midst of the
-throng; kisses exchanged on these dunes, along these roadsides, in some
-charming farm orchard, or on certain evenings before the fairylike
-spectacle of the phosphorescent sea; she remembered that room in the
-Hôtel de Normandie where he had left her a few days before the 2d of
-August! And she recalled to mind the beautiful sky of that day, and the
-tocsin pealing from all the church-towers of the countryside, and the
-rolling of the drum, and the young men raising their hats. How many of
-them were alive to-day?
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<h4><a id="XVIII">XVIII</a></h4>
-
-<p>
-She had hardly finished luncheon when she heard the jingling of the
-little bell at the wooden gate of her garden. Mme. de Calouas came in.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mme. de Calouas found Odette surrounded by photographs of Jean. They
-were on the walls, the chimneypiece, the tables, the desk, the piano.
-Odette had taken the opportunity of her journey to carry to the
-photographer every film that she possessed; she had had them enlarged,
-and she was surrounded by Jean as if Jean had become a whole people; she
-saw him in every room of her cottage and in all places; she felt
-somewhat tranquil only when she could see him. If she seldom or never
-spoke of him elsewhere, as soon as she returned home she belonged only
-to him. She talked to him, consulted him, and heard the replies which,
-in accordance with his character, he would have made her to-day, if he
-had lived, if he had known what was taking place.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mme. de Calouas looked about her at all these likenesses.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mme. de Calouas was not among the number of hospital nurses who had been
-rewarded by the epidemic medal, although she had not absented herself
-for forty-eight hours since the outbreak of the war, and though her
-position in the hospital was a most important one; but neglect of this
-sort was either indifferent to her or it flattered her pride. She
-belonged to a family of which every member professed absolute
-indifference to rewards, especially to any that might come from the
-public powers, and this although it was the tradition of the family to
-addict themselves constantly to the highest duties. The magistrates
-among them had retired some thirty-five years previously; the officers
-remained fixed in the rank of captain. In the Morbihan the expression
-"the Captains de Calouas" had become a common locution. At the outbreak
-of the war "the Captains de Calouas" had shown themselves to be men of
-the old-fashioned kind who considered that the finest part one can play
-in the face of the enemy is to be killed by him. Their unanimous and
-hardy bravery had, indeed, crowned nearly every one of them with the
-halo of sacrifice. Those with whom death would have absolutely nothing
-to do had this time risen in rank, and had received the cross after a
-succession of actions and for exceptional valor even amidst so many
-astonishing deeds. Of seven of them, only one was left, recently named
-lieutenant-colonel, with an artificial arm and a damaged lung.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mme. de Calouas excused herself for coming so early, but said that she
-had felt an irresistible desire to talk freely with a friend in whom she
-had discerned "a choice soul."
-</p>
-<p>
-"In the sort of convent in which we lived so long side by side," she
-said, "I consider myself somewhat as a mother to you, if you will permit
-me to say so, seeing that I had the responsibility of opening its door
-to you. Will you let me talk to you as a mother?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"I have great need of it," said Odette;
-</p>
-<p>
-"I have no mother, and I am a widow&mdash;&mdash;"
-</p>
-<p>
-She pointed around to the photographs of the dead. It was as if she were
-in a cemetery, herself living in one of its vaults. Her eyes filled with
-sudden tears.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I love him as on the day he died; as on that other day, that dreadful
-day when he left me&mdash;I cannot cry all this upon the housetops. You,
-madame, have suffered like me, more even than me, the pain of this
-horrible war; we can no longer speak of our dead! We have no right to
-show our grief! There are too many griefs, too many dead. I have never
-been able to talk about him; I have found only one person who would
-consent to recall him with kindliness, and she is a Parisian, a
-self-centred woman who has managed not to permit herself to be touched
-by the war, a young woman, like me, but already a woman of former days.
-Who is there, henceforth, who can dwell on her personal sorrow?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"It remains to be seen, my poor dear," said Mme. de Calouas, "whether
-what you say is an evil. I mean an evil for the time in which we live,
-during this war which has no end, and during the many years after this
-war; in a word, during all our lives&mdash;even yours. You know, my child,
-that I am a woman bound to all the old customs. In our family widowhood
-is a serious thing, and usually a thing for life. But this war has
-modified even our most firmly established customs. Great necessities,
-painful new duties, lie before us. We have been obliged to put down,
-with a strong hand, many of our feelings; we are bound to subordinate
-our personality and its most sacred traditions to the common weal. To
-mourn a beloved husband&mdash;what is more touching and more worthy in a
-young woman? But, my little friend, let me confide to you a cruel truth,
-of which you are already beginning to be aware. You were just saying to
-me that we can no longer talk about our dead husbands, however
-gloriously they may have been killed; it is equally the case of both of
-us. Well, forgive me for what I am going to say&mdash;it is one of the most
-cruel features of this time that has no name&mdash;to mourn our husbands is
-a sort of self-indulgence, it is a personal civility, it is almost a
-delight! I shall startle you, but I must say it to you, I who am twenty
-years older than you, because I recognize in you a noble heart,
-broadened rather than belittled by this storm. My poor child, you have
-no right to remain surrounded by these likenesses of the dead. If we
-belonged to ourselves, we would give ourselves up to what our hearts
-would prefer&mdash;weak, human creatures that we are! We would choose to
-remember and to mourn. But we are no longer our own! Let us imitate our
-husbands! They would certainly have preferred to live. To assert the
-contrary is mere boasting. But without hesitating they accepted death.
-They understood, every one of them, that they were not their own. Nor
-are we our own. I give you my word of honor&mdash;and you can never imagine
-the object of reverence or the cause of joy that for twenty years my
-husband was to me&mdash;if I were still young enough to have children I
-would marry again to-morrow! I am too old, and this is why you see me take
-so much pains in other directions. What the country asks of you is not work
-like what I am doing&mdash;&mdash;"
-</p>
-<p>
-"I prefer that work," said Odette.
-</p>
-<p>
-"You are not your own."
-</p>
-<p>
-"What the world asks of me is worse than death."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Our husbands endured the sufferings of hell, and died only
-afterward&mdash;&mdash;"
-</p>
-<p>
-Odette burst into sobs.
-</p>
-<p>
-"My child, my dear little friend," said Mme. de Calouas, "I beg you not
-to give way to despondency of any sort. Believe what I say, and do not
-think me hard, as I may appear to be. I am not hard. I have simply
-covered myself with a shell, because we are engaged in a merciless
-conflict. Let us not permit ourselves to be weakened whether by
-catastrophe or painful loss or bitter trial. To give way to grief is to
-grow less strong. For the time, we can be sure only of suffering. Each
-grief should give us the opportunity not to weep, but to do more than
-before. There is only one aim. How that simplifies things! We look
-toward it, and toward it alone. We direct our eyes neither to the right
-nor the left. Anything may happen: we are ready, we will not fail. We
-may be asked for more than is in reason, but we have offered our
-services. No hesitation, no boasting; above all, no consideration of
-ourselves; let us leave all that to women of petty minds, since it is
-the only motive that can move them. We who know better must set them an
-example."
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<h4><a id="XIX">XIX</a></h4>
-
-<p>
-Odette went to her room to bathe her eyes, but it was all in vain; she
-began again to weep; she had an invincible desire for tears; she wept
-until the hour for going to the hospital.
-</p>
-<p>
-She had photographs of Jean in her bed-room as in her drawing-room. And
-now it seemed to her that to give way to her grief was, indeed, "a
-delight"! She was in the habit of giving herself up to sorrow; who would
-have believed that it was a way of giving herself up to pleasure? Yet in
-comparison with the excessive sadness of the present time, to wrap
-herself up, weeping, in the memory of happy days, was to set herself
-apart, to abstract herself in herself, to intoxicate herself with the
-fragrance of the incense on her own private altar, to divest herself of
-strength for the great common act which it had given her so much pain to
-accept, but the imperious command of which she could not now deny.
-</p>
-<p>
-"It is still a pleasure," she repeated to herself. What chaos must have
-been wrought that her most acute sufferings, recalled to her by
-imagination, should take on the form of felicity!
-</p>
-<p>
-Mme. de Calouas had affirmed that, for her part, had she fewer years,
-she would not hesitate to marry again!&mdash;Ah, no, that was too much!
-Anything, anything, but that! "'They endured the pains of hell, and did
-not die until afterward?' Yes, their martyrdom, their death, I would
-gladly accept for myself; but I refuse to be false to my adored
-memories&mdash;&mdash;"
-</p>
-<p>
-Another burst of grief overwhelmed her in which her whole tortured
-personality resisted and asserted itself. She seized Jean's photographs
-and kissed them frantically. She would fain detest all the rest of the
-world and give herself wholly to this one sacred memory. For the moment
-she spurned the opinion of Mme. de Calouas: "If it is a self-indulgence,
-let it be so! I yield myself to this self-indulgence! I love Jean, I
-have never loved any one but Jean!"
-</p>
-<p>
-In the old days she used to bicycle with Jean, and the two, side by
-side, often exchanging glances, sometimes throwing kisses, would roll
-breathlessly along the Norman roads, between the high, thick hedges
-where they were as if enclosed, with only one way out, where they had
-nothing to do but roll along. An auto would appear; Jean would go first,
-Odette following in his track, breathing his perfume until the cloud of
-dust and the smell of oil or of gasolene choked her. Sometimes, going
-slowly, they would take one another by the hand. She was flexible,
-slight, and lightly clothed; she would play acrobatic tricks on her
-machine, and her joyful agility would fill Jean with delight. Suddenly
-he would jump down, she would follow his example, and they would
-exchange a kiss, folded lingeringly in one another's arms. There was a
-little wayside inn where, under the arbor, they would call for cider
-with bread and white cheese. They had never met any one there; the wind
-would ruffle the foliage around them, the dog would gaze at them with a
-twinkle in his eye, the hostess would serve them with a smile. More
-often than elsewhere they used to go to the orchard, the incomparable
-orchard of the farm at the foot of the ruins of Saint-Gingolph, where
-they were welcomed as friends, both so young, so beautiful, so radiant
-with happiness. There in the autumn they would walk in the little paths
-bordered with sorrel and thyme; where dahlias were growing beside
-onions, where there were currant-bushes loaded with rubies, in a corner
-a fig-tree whose fruit never ripened, under which they must bend to go
-to the pear-trees. There Odette would bite into a pear as she passed it,
-and this would make Jean scold; he would gather the pear, nibble at the
-place which her teeth had damaged, and carry it to the good-natured
-farmer's wife, saying: "Just see what mischief we have done!"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Oh!" the farmer's wife would simply reply, "Madame seems to enjoy it
-so!"
-</p>
-<p>
-Delicious and terrible memories! Odette could not endure again to visit
-those places, so near, yet which would now have given her so much pain!
-</p>
-<p>
-Nor could she again go in the evening, at nightfall, to the edge of the
-sea, where in each vague shadow she would have thought she saw the
-shadow of Jean. They used to love to wander there in the warm obscurity
-of August. The long-drawn moan of the sea was to them a cradle-song
-composed by a musician of genius. No doubt Odette used to see in those
-days fewer large waves than to-day; but in those days all things blended
-with her love and seemed marvellous to her. Sometimes Jean, who had his
-boyish ways, would amuse himself by leaving her, suddenly disappearing
-from her eyes in the darkness. She would call him in an anxious voice,
-"Jean!" And she would always recognize his shadow as he drew near by his
-extending his arms in the form of a cross, and throwing them around her,
-to press her to him the moment he met her. In those days they would hear
-afar off the music of the violins, and would see above the dune the dark
-villas and the illuminated hotels. Now she knew that in those hotels
-were lying a thousand men swathed in bandages, poisoned by pus and
-gangrene, and the sea was holding up a long chaplet of buoys from which
-were hanging nets to ward off submarines. How could she go back there?
-</p>
-<p>
-The summer wore away in a manner almost satisfactory, and with great
-hopes in the military operations. A wave of optimism passed over the
-country. Rumanian colors were floated from the town-hall; the battle of
-the Somme had freed Verdun and was itself beginning to slacken. In the
-beginning of October the wounded in the hospital were almost few.
-Odette, with too little to do, reduced to solitude, began to droop. She
-found the conversation of Mme. de Calouas very fine, but it did not
-touch her. Why not?
-</p>
-<p>
-She would have her lay aside her mourning&mdash;the two years being now a
-long month over past. Other widows had almost joyfully put off their
-crape in the late summer heat. Odette considered it a profanation. "Time
-was passing." No doubt it was. It was long&mdash;without measure long. But
-to her Jean had died yesterday, nothing in her feelings had been changed by
-what she had seen. She thought of all those bodily wounds which she had
-dressed with her own hands, and which had healed. The great wound within
-herself remained open. At times she would forget the war, the sorrows of
-which at other times would crush her, and think only of the beloved
-being to whom she was bound for eternity.
-</p>
-<p>
-One afternoon she dragged herself, on foot and alone, along the road to
-Saint-Gingolph, between the brook, the fields, and the hillock that
-separates two valleys. The weather was fine, underfoot were leaves of
-plane-trees, some decaying, others rolling along the ground, driven by
-the autumn wind. She had not the courage to go to the farm; the orchard
-came down to the roadside. She sat down upon the grass of the ditch and
-reflected that this was the third autumn that she had been there, since
-the war! She recalled to mind the first one, when people were beginning
-to find the hostilities very long; when every evening, passing by the
-post-office, one hoped to read the news of some event which would bring
-about its sudden end. She thought of the little soldiers whom she used
-to follow to the cemetery, and of whom every one insisted upon thinking:
-"He is the last one!"
-</p>
-<p>
-Before her, on the crest of the hillock, like a fantastic screen whose
-edge has been clumsily cut by a child, a long avenue of very ancient
-elms broke in upon the view. They bore scattered clusters of foliage,
-still golden; a dense cloud of crows rose up and lighted with sinister
-croakings upon their ragged tops. These birds with their lugubrious
-cries seemed about to give battle for the possession of a notable
-charnel-house. And suddenly they plunged into the branches and
-disappeared, and nothing remained of them but the wound inflicted by the
-rasping voices upon the motionless air. Then the black cloud uprose
-again, as if the avenue of old elms, mown down at the roots by shells,
-had upheaved itself before its final downfall. It seemed as if the heart
-of the hillock were painfully throbbing. The raucous croaking of these
-thousands of birds grated upon her nerves and aroused all her powers of
-mournful revery.
-</p>
-<p>
-Odette resumed her walk back to the town. Evening was falling. Lush
-meadows along the brookside, a gray steeple almost hidden in foliage of
-rose ochre, the racecourse&mdash;relic of a brilliant worldliness&mdash;two
-or three pretty villas, whose reddening hopvines were flaunting themselves
-derisively before closed windows, reminded her too painfully of a past
-era&mdash;a lost paradise. Among the persons whom she met, already half
-hidden in the shadow, some were laughing. Then people could laugh? Why,
-yes! Life, diverse as it is, has ever its source in the waters of a
-Fountain of Youth.
-</p>
-<p>
-The darkness and the croakings of the crows haunted her. When she
-reached the cottage she threw herself upon a divan, and remained there,
-overcome, until Amelia came to call her to her solitary dinner.
-</p>
-<p>
-The evening mail brought her tidings of the death of the last de Blauve
-boy, who had voluntarily gone to the firing-line in advance of those of
-his age, and had been killed outright in the very hour when he first set
-foot in the trench. Almost mechanically, and as a daily duty, she read
-two newspapers, line by line. She seemed to feel a great inward
-emptiness; she felt herself going to pieces. She must make a change, at
-whatever cost. There was just now no necessity for her presence in the
-hospital. She resolved to return to Paris, without other reason than the
-impossibility of remaining in Surville. How many feverish changes she
-had made, since the beginning of this war, with no more serious motive
-than this!
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<h4><a id="XX">XX</a></h4>
-
-<p>
-Arrived in Paris, she went at once to see Mme. de Blauve. This woman,
-who had lost a much-loved husband and two sons hardly old enough to be
-soldiers, was not weeping, was not feeling dull, had no hard words to
-say about the war. She gave full evidence of tenderness toward her
-family, but, above all, she knew how to live, and that, in a time of
-war, means total forgetfulness of self and of all whom one loves. She
-was not sending her daughters into the hospitals, where they were not
-needed; she had herself given up her work as nurse, in order to give
-special attention to preparing them for marriage.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Marriage is the civic duty of women," she said; "at sixteen and a half
-one can very well have a child. Marriage is a difficult matter in a time
-like this, but I am willing to pay the price!" She was thinking only of
-this, the oldest girl having passed her fifteenth year.
-</p>
-<p>
-To Odette, Mme. de Blauve was another Mme. de Calouas in Paris. She felt
-at ease with neither of them, and yet both of them attracted her
-inexplicably. She felt herself at a distance from them while yet being
-influenced by them, to a degree that surprised some indefinable part of
-herself. Both of them shocked her, wounded her, even; she was appalled
-before their stoicism. She looked at them darkly, almost malevolently,
-when they seemed to gaze with reprobation upon the mourning garments
-which she persisted in wearing. These women, brought up to worship the
-dead, uprose like spectres from the depths of the past which was their
-element, and uttered a word unfamiliar to their lips: "Forward!" The
-impression was most disturbing.
-</p>
-<p>
-Not that she envied them, under the pretext that both appeared to have
-adjusted themselves to the sorrows of the time. Odette had no desire
-thus to adjust herself. On the contrary, she implored to be left alone,
-to bury herself in unending grief. And yet she felt a secret sympathy
-with these unavowed foes of the perpetuation of her love.
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<h4><a id="XXI">XXI</a></h4>
-
-<p>
-Crossing the Champs-Elysées on her homeward way, Odette met two groups
-of blinded soldiers, each one led by a woman who helped him to pass from
-refuge to refuge. A blinded soldier invariably caused Odette to shudder
-with dismay. Of all the wounded by the war, such as he most painfully
-touched her sympathies. She stood on the first refuge as if petrified,
-gazing at these men led by the hand by young women, a third clinging to
-his comrade's coat, groping in the air with a timid arm.
-</p>
-<p>
-In the face of distress like this, coachmen and chauffeurs, however much
-in haste, stopped short as before a funeral procession, which all Paris
-respects. The double stream of circulation was arrested in both
-directions recalling pictures of the waters of the Red Sea. The crowded
-foot-passengers formed a rampart with their bodies. No one saluted, for
-that is not the custom, but the seriousness of all faces spoke of the
-impulse, almost the need, thus to act. Veneration, such as has never
-before been seen on French faces, was stamped upon the features of men
-and women, even of children. That which was taking place was almost
-nothing, simply a group of soldiers whose organs of sight had been
-destroyed, with charitable women serving them as guides. For two minutes
-they interrupted the movement of the Champs-Elysées. Yet it was a moral
-influence, an unrecognized, unclassified power, poor and even lamentable
-of aspect, which had suddenly arrested the prosperous physical movement
-of a great city. Odette felt her heart throb; her eyes were so blurred
-that as she reached the sidewalk she almost failed to recognize her
-friend La Villaumer, who was standing there, gazing at that simple,
-pathetic transit.
-</p>
-<p>
-After the first greeting he said to Odette:
-</p>
-<p>
-"I have often imagined Jesus returning among us; I thought just now that
-I saw him at the head of that group, motioning with his gentle hand to
-the crowd of busy mortals, 'Pause, travellers!' He had come back as the
-God of justice and of love, just when the demon was making his most
-determined attack upon his beloved, just when each one of us is obliged
-to look into the inmost recesses of his heart and ask himself: 'What is
-going to be left?' And he was replying to us, 'Verily, I say unto you,
-henceforth cherish, all of you, a concern for human distress.' I
-thought, too, that I heard him whisper&mdash;pardon the blasphemy if it
-shocks you!&mdash;I heard him whisper softly: 'My sufferings have been
-surpassed; the sufferings of my martyrs have been surpassed.'"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Oh!"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Yes, they and he, while suffering, had the assurance of entering the
-Kingdom of God, and that within a relatively short time. The majority of
-these poor fellows are without that assurance; many of them are without
-hope, and their martyrdom has already lasted for twenty-eight months!
-They are about to endure a third winter, and some of them will last for
-a fourth! And who knows? From all this will be born into the world, my
-friend, a 'religion of mankind.' It is not simply the human blood shed,
-it is the indefinitely prolonged torture of men, millions and millions
-of men, which will create a new mystic element upon which the religions
-of the future will draw. It is a dangerous vision; the salvation of
-humanity lies at the present time in nothing that in the least resembles
-humanitarianism.
-</p>
-<p>
-"But I have something to tell you, my friend; Misson, the husband of our
-good Rose, whom we have so often ridiculed because he stuck to his
-automobile&mdash; Well, he has been killed, the good fellow, blown to
-pieces by the bursting of a shell, as he was driving some
-officers&mdash;&mdash;"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Oh, my dear Rose! I must hasten to her!"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Do not go yet. It happened on the road to Rheims. She has obtained
-leave to go for his body&mdash; Do you know what Mme. Leconque said,
-when she learned that Misson's body had been blown to fragments by a
-bursting shell? She said: 'In his auto?&mdash;What a stupid death!' The
-death that one receives in an automobile, you see, is not noble. It was,
-we now learn, the one-hundred-and-fourth time that a shell has fallen
-within less than thirty metres of his machine, and the ninth machine
-that has been struck in the course of his journeys. He will forever be
-unrecognized."
-</p>
-<p>
-Odette could not refrain from wiping her eyes.
-</p>
-<p>
-La Villaumer, who lost nothing of her actions, said to her:
-</p>
-<p>
-"You are weeping for another sorrow than your own?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Is that what you think?" asked Odette; "it is still my sorrow; it is he
-who makes me more alive to the sorrows of others."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Yes, but from the moment when you can thus weep for others your own
-grief becomes more tolerable."
-</p>
-<p>
-"I would not wish to suffer less."
-</p>
-<p>
-"You are not suffering less; there is room in your heart for a still
-greater sorrow."
-</p>
-<p>
-"You always make me afraid when you say that."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Odette, you must not be afraid of anything."
-</p>
-<p>
-As they went up the avenue La Villaumer went on:
-</p>
-<p>
-"I remember, last spring, regretting in your presence the marvellous
-aspect of the Champs-Elysées in the days of prosperity. And yet not one
-of those beautiful old days ever aroused in me so much feeling as the
-crossing over of those ten war-blinded soldiers. I do not cease to
-regret the time when these poor young fellows enjoyed the light; but I
-am asking myself by what mystery the greatest suffering uplifts us above
-the greatest pleasure. I even believe that the stimulus of the greatest
-pleasure is short-lived and degenerates rapidly, while the other lasts
-long and is endlessly purified."
-</p>
-<p>
-"You are being converted, La Villaumer!"
-</p>
-<p>
-"You know that there is no more convinced sceptic than I, and you know
-my predilection for the simple life, frank, wholesome, normally
-developing; one may say, happy in the pagan manner. But this mode of
-life does not exhaust life, though I believe it to conform most
-perfectly to the destiny of man. Life has acquired other dispositions,
-other tendencies. And this does not prevent asceticism, for instance,
-attractive as it is, from having at its base an incontestable
-psychological truth. In the present state of civilization we are not
-permitted to allow inconsistencies of which nevertheless the world is
-composed. If you so much as mention two contradictory propositions you
-are accused of instability, if not of dishonesty. Each of us remains
-shut up in his little, partial, incomplete truth; that is why the human
-race seems to one inconsequential and sometimes stupid."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Come, explain yourself a little; how, for example, can one at the same
-time love pleasure and that which forbids it?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"The problem does appear to be insoluble; but observe that there are
-none like the greatly self-indulgent to recognize the importance of an
-event which consists in renouncing all pleasure. It is those who most
-intensely enjoy the exquisite things of life who are thrilled to their
-inmost souls at the sight of a voluntary death. I have been present, as
-a relative, or as a mere onlooker, at more than one taking of the veil.
-Think what the taking of the veil must be to a beautiful young girl!
-Well, fathers excepted, I have never seen tears in the eyes of men
-professing the same faith as the novice, but I have seen robust artists
-almost faint at the sight. They were wholly indifferent to the person
-who was thus leaving the world, but they adored beauty and love. They
-believed in nothing else than beauty and love, and they were the only
-ones in the company to be overwhelmed by the power of the motive that
-can tear a human being away from the attraction of such a magnet. These
-unbelievers, these intruders in the temple, experienced such a shock
-that they came nearer to fervent adherence to a God to them unknown than
-the men of tranquil faith, who looked upon the ceremony as something
-usual and in conformity with the order of things. Ardent converts are
-not recruited from among the friends of religion, but from among its
-declared enemies or those totally ignorant of it."
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<h4><a id="XXII">XXII</a></h4>
-
-<p>
-Odette must leave a card with a word of sympathy at the door of the
-bereaved Rose, and see her, stand by her, try, however vainly, to
-console her.
-</p>
-<p>
-Fortunately Simone overpowered both Rose and Odette with her chatter.
-She was as well-informed, as in the time of peace, of everything that
-went on in private life. Mathilde Aviron&mdash;another Germaine Le
-Gault&mdash;was in love with a deputy.
-</p>
-<p>
-"But," said Odette, "she lost her husband only four weeks after me."
-</p>
-<p>
-"That is two years and two months ago, my dear!"
-</p>
-<p>
-"That is true."
-</p>
-<p>
-"It all depends on circumstances. They are going to be married, it
-appears.&mdash;And that poor Ogivier is slowly wasting away, in solitary
-misery, because his wife believes herself called to be heroic in the
-hospitals! Opinions differ; some say: 'She is doing right. What would
-you have? Ogivier is fifty-five years old; he is useless&mdash;&mdash;'"
-</p>
-<p>
-"But after all, he is her husband. Are her services indispensable in the
-hospitals?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"No one is indispensable, every one says."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Well, then?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Well, then, it is war. Some forget their duties, others don't know
-where they are. Mme. de Gaspari is absolutely bent upon making shells.
-She used to shed perfume at fifteen paces; she had her hair waved by X.,
-and the beautiful hands that you remember&mdash;Some one has given her a
-chance in a factory! And how many things are happening that no one talks
-about! There are husbands who were in love with their wives, and who
-after the wives have been doing service in the hospitals, no longer feel
-the same toward them. It is not their fault! I know some who did not in
-the least object to it; but love is what it can be; many love in their
-wives only an illusion pleasing to themselves, such, for example, as
-that a wife should come physically near only to her husband. When their
-wives come back after having spent whole days&mdash;perhaps
-nights&mdash;in those hospital rooms&mdash;what would you hear? Every
-one cannot get over a painful impression simply by the aid of reason."
-</p>
-<p>
-"And what about the girls who do the same?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Yes, it is evident that men will have to accept new ideas."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Say, that unlucky Gendron has had an attack."
-</p>
-<p>
-"What, at his age?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Yes, he is still young; and he was so healthy! He was by no means a
-useless man. Here he is cut down; he cannot endure the idea of the war.
-War perhaps seems worse to him at a distance than if he were in the
-trenches. 'My head is splitting; it seems as if a petard had been fired
-into my ear. I would rather explode than watch for it.'"
-</p>
-<p>
-"He is a singular man."
-</p>
-<p>
-"He didn't 'explode' as he said. He is 'watching for it' with his mouth
-drawn to one side and an arm and a leg paralyzed&mdash;his intellect
-intact. People's lots are different. We see all sorts."
-</p>
-<p>
-"There are unfortunate people; here and there are some who, whether they
-will or no, find the war turning to their advantage; and then there are
-many who really do not know what they are going through; they are as if
-possessed."
-</p>
-<p>
-"What do you think of La Villaumer?" asked Simone.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I hope that you don't propose to have him exorcised," said Odette.
-</p>
-<p>
-"No, but has he told you that he is trying to sell all his property, his
-collections, his books? He wants to realize on all that he owns, and
-give it for the war."
-</p>
-<p>
-"He is very much touched by it."
-</p>
-<p>
-"But, my dear friends, who is there who is not?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Mme. de Boulainvilliers has distributed her entire fortune among war
-works; she has mortgaged her house to enable her to support an auxiliary
-hospital which she has opened in it; she is already begging right and
-left. She will come to be a charge upon the public charities. All her
-sons have been killed; but her relatives are furious."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Little do I care about relatives," said Odette; "she is doing a good
-thing, and all the more because every one knows that she isn't in the
-least pretentious. 'There is no great merit in what I am doing,' the old
-lady says modestly. 'Why, I shall soon be seventy years old; if I do not
-take care of my wounded the state will have to do it, and that would
-impair the fortune of my relatives as well as of everybody else.' But
-she does not say everything that she thinks. What she thinks is much
-simpler than that; she enjoys, above all things, making little creams
-for her soldiers. 'But for my hospital,' she says, 'they wouldn't get
-any!'"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Have you heard of Clotilde's adventure?" asked Simone.
-</p>
-<p>
-"My goodness! has Clotilde too been touched by the war?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Oh, in the most unexpected way. You know that she vowed to keep the war
-away from her. Her husband is at General Headquarters; when she sees him
-she forbids him to speak about the war. But Avvogade had a friend of his
-childhood, a school comrade&mdash;a man whom one never met at their house
-in the old days&mdash;a modest employee in a Trust Company, but a tall,
-well-made fellow. The poor fellow lost his sight as the result of
-trepanning. His condition produced a great effect upon Avvogade;
-Avvogade suddenly felt all the old friendship for his comrade revive; he
-goes to him as often as he can, takes him out to walk, brings him home
-to lunch. Clotilde dares not object, but she is simply aghast. The
-mutilated man's conversation does not interest her and the sight of him
-horrifies her. 'We don't talk about the war,' says her husband. 'I am
-not breaking our agreement.' They don't talk about the war, but this man
-with his closed eyes embodies the war to her, and thus the war has
-entered her house. And no one has anything to say to her but: 'You can't
-escape it, my dear.' If Clotilde was not such a dear every one would
-laugh, for, after all, her trouble is not a great one and there is
-something absurd in the adventure."
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<h4><a id="XXIII">XXIII</a></h4>
-
-<p>
-As she went about among her friends Odette perceived that she was
-regarded in Paris as one of the women who during the war was sacrificing
-herself for the public good. One must have a "war" reputation at all
-costs. No one said a word as to her conduct as a widow, or as to her
-moral ideas. But because she had been absent and was known to have been
-for a long time a hospital nurse, every one ascribed to her that spirit
-of self-abnegation which gives reason to expect all things from certain
-exceptional persons, born for sublimities. The compliments that she
-received were not ironical. Her profound and unalterable grief for her
-husband's death, the very discretion which she observed in making no
-lamentation before her friends, were not lost upon them. Odette, sad and
-silent, enjoyed what might be called "a good press." The praises
-bestowed upon her simply transformed into extraordinary virtue what was
-only natural to her. At first she found it stupid; then it disturbed
-her.
-</p>
-<p>
-"But what am I, after all?" she would ask.
-</p>
-<p>
-"You are an exquisite woman! Your conduct is admirable!"
-</p>
-<p>
-And every one present would acquiesce. It was in a drawing-room which
-might have been supposed to be the seat of the War Committee, where were
-young women, women on the further verge of youth, poetesses, princesses;
-through which passed generals, convalescent heroes, ministers, men of
-all shades of politics, literary celebrities, and the sad relics of
-before-the-war æstheticism. The secrets of military operations were
-known there, whether carried out or simply planned, the underside of
-diplomacy, future declarations of war, historic nights, scandals unknown
-to the public. News was handed about, discredited, misconstrued, torn to
-pieces. An apparition from another world, like Odette, felt herself
-facing all Europe in arms, or some world-congress; rising from the
-modest tomb in which she had been living she was dazzled, her head was
-turned with it all. She rose to return to her solitude.
-</p>
-<p>
-On the staircase she met La Villaumer, his smile scornful at the thought
-of the foolishness which he was about to hear.
-</p>
-<p>
-"What do they expect of me?" she asked. "Imagine, there are those
-up-stairs who were ready to swear that I, all by myself, directed the
-battle of the Somme!"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Not at all," he replied. "It is simply that you are a very worthy
-woman; you honor the house."
-</p>
-<p>
-"All very well! But they frighten me. They seem to be expecting
-something of me&mdash;&mdash;"
-</p>
-<p>
-"That you will do the house still greater honor! Receptions of this sort
-would fain be taken as pictures of the country, in the small."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Tell me about yourself, La Villaumer; how much truth is there in what
-they tell me&mdash;that you are going to distribute all your property and
-live in a garret?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Oh, it is a naturally erroneous paraphrase of an expression of which,
-like you, like many others, I have often made use. I have said: 'I no
-longer count. None of us any longer counts.' Which means: 'Whatever our
-value may formerly have been, the common cause is too grand for us to
-indulge in the fatuity of putting a value upon ourselves. Whoever we may
-be, we are reduced to nothingness by something superior to ourselves.'
-It is a rather stern assertion, and just because it is so it sets
-imaginations to work. Our amiable gossips immediately translate it into
-a child's picture, impressive by its crude coloring, in which they see
-me shivering on a pallet."
-</p>
-<p>
-"And the story of Mme. de Boulainvilliers?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"So they have told you the story of Mme. de Boulainvilliers as well?
-She is a truly generous woman, but not an imprudent one. She so well
-knows what a snare there is for her in the pleasure of coddling her
-hundred and twenty soldiers, that, having no direct heirs, she has put a
-part of her property into an annuity, in order to become a charge upon
-no one as long as she may live. All the rest she gives away. She detests
-her relations and delights in frustrating them. No one would talk about
-her, perhaps, if it were not for the cream of the end of the story, a
-little detail which happens to be true, and which does good."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Let us have done with our good women and our special cases. But you,
-yourself, what do you think, on the whole, of sacrifice?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"The general opinion is that men are without exception ruled by base
-personal interests; but this view only takes into consideration the calm
-level of the human ocean; in reality it has its tempests, which are the
-passions, and man in a state of passion no longer thinks of his
-interests. In the depths of my soul I believe that sacrifice may very
-well cause the greatest happiness."
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<h4><a id="XXIV">XXIV</a></h4>
-
-<p>
-Some little time later Odette went to see Clotilde. It was early in a
-mortally cold winter; for two months already cold weather had raged,
-bitter and uninterrupted. The question of fuel was beginning to be
-serious; there were rumors of restrictions in many things. Paris was
-uneasy, though the newspapers, with their miracle-working ink, turned
-adversity into beauty.
-</p>
-<p>
-Odette found Clotilde in her usual atmosphere, a happy accident having
-permitted her apartment to be warmed. She was surrounded by books and
-flowers, and wore a robe of some silken fabric which moulded itself to
-her sinuous form. She at once exclaimed:
-</p>
-<p>
-"Do you notice anything changed here?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Not you, certainly!"
-</p>
-<p>
-"I have had the rooms done over; how do you like this gray?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"It's lovely! With the cherry color of the curtains it is really
-perfect."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Ah! I was sure that you would think so! The others go through the rooms
-as if they were daft; they don't notice anything."
-</p>
-<p>
-"You have a new photograph of your husband. It is wonderfully good."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Doesn't he grow handsome? And yet the dear fellow is overworking. It
-isn't a sinecure, I assure you, his position at General Headquarters!
-But I feel sure that I amuse him; I divert him from his worries. Without
-flattering myself I please him, these days. And I love him, Oh, how I
-love him!"
-</p>
-<p>
-"You are two lucky people."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Forgive me, dear Odette, I am almost ashamed to dwell upon my happiness
-before you. But you are the only person who understands; you, who have
-truly loved."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Who love still, Clotilde."
-</p>
-<p>
-Clotilde opened her eyes wide, thinking that she had not heard aright.
-She knew what love was, surely, but it was difficult for her to admit
-that after two years and a half one could love a dead man, as she loved
-her strong and handsome husband. Yet she certainly could entertain no
-suspicion concerning Odette, and she at once resolved to make the most
-of her friend's enduring sentiments to talk to her about her own
-personal love. She overwhelmed her with it as with a flood. Her love had
-reached an intensity which it had never known in times of peace. The
-seclusion which she had chosen in order to avoid hearing any talk of war
-had built around her an ivory tower; and no longer meeting any one but
-her husband, her pleasures ministered to only by him, she had found him
-taking a place of unusual importance in her life; in himself he embodied
-all the delights of which the war had deprived her, and which she had
-learned to forget.
-</p>
-<p>
-Odette herself began to speak of love. The subject was painful to her,
-and yet she enjoyed it. Clotilde was the only creature with whom, since
-the war, she had been able to converse on the subject without
-diffidence. Letting herself go along the lines of her memories and her
-habitual reveries, she began to taste the joy of a prisoner shut up in
-a dark cell, who finds an opportunity to mention the brook that flows
-through the sun-bathed field below his father's house.
-</p>
-<p>
-"After all," she concluded, "the things that we have been saying, if
-they could be noted down, would interest the world more, fifty or a
-hundred years hence, than all the terrible events that are taking
-place."
-</p>
-<p>
-Clotilde would hear nothing about "terrible events." Love alone was
-worth considering.
-</p>
-<p>
-"We meet love everywhere," said Odette. "I find it springing up under my
-feet wherever I go; in the operating-room, at the bedside of the wounded
-and the dying. The towns nearest to the front are fuller of it than any
-others, it would seem. They say that it has never caused such a stir."
-</p>
-<p>
-"It represents life, which must be perpetuated, whatever happens. In
-your case, my dear Odette, love is joined to death, but in general, no;
-it severs itself from death. Those of our day who sing of love and
-practise it are more surely serving the future than those who conceive
-of restraint as the sole virtue."
-</p>
-<p>
-In spite of herself, these unpremeditated words brought a sudden light
-into the perplexed thoughts with which Odette's persistent sorrow and
-her natural disposition as a loving young woman inspired Clotilde. She
-felt impelled to cry out to her: "You think you are loving a dead man,
-my poor dear! but you are not twenty-eight years old; you are in love
-with love; it is always here, and is waiting for you!"
-</p>
-<p>
-Both of them were equally incapable of disguising the truth as it
-appeared to them. Odette, bound by a tie whose almost inconceivable
-strength kept down every other sort of desire; Clotilde simply deep in
-love to the point of hardly being able to imagine a case different from
-her own. By chance she had not uttered words which deeply wound a
-bleeding heart, but Odette's acute senses at once perceived that there
-is hardly any conversation possible even upon the dearest subject that
-they may have in common, between two creatures, one of whom is happy and
-the other in sorrow.
-</p>
-<p>
-She at least observed this: that Clotilde, from an absolutely opposite
-point of view, was at one with Mme. de Blauve, with Mme. de Calouas,
-with La Villaumer, with each and every one, in saying to her: "My dear
-friend, you should not always mourn."
-</p>
-<p>
-And her grief, so genuine, was increased tenfold.
-</p>
-<p>
-But Clotilde, self-indulgent, egotistic, and thinking only of her own
-pleasure or of sparing herself pain, was saying to Odette:
-</p>
-<p>
-"See here, my dear; will you do me a great service? Will you come to
-lunch with us to-morrow? Would that bore you?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Why should it bore me? Why do you call it doing you a service?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"It is settled, then. See here; I must tell you a secret. You know how I
-love my husband, how happy I am. There is only one dark spot: my husband
-has a friend, a blinded officer&mdash;Captain Dessaud. He brings him two or
-three times a week to lunch, on the pretext that he is lonely, with no
-family, and desperate. Of course I cannot object, you understand; but
-the sight of that man is painful to me to a degree that you would never
-believe. I have to talk to him, and I have nothing to say to a fellow
-who has lost his sight, who hopes for nothing, who has no motive for
-being happy. I am sick with it. Come to my help&mdash;you are used to
-wretchedness, you know!"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Yes indeed, yes indeed, I will come."
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<h4><a id="XXV">XXV</a></h4>
-
-<p>
-Once at home, Odette thought more about Clotilde's conversation than
-about the coming meeting with the blinded man, which she dreaded. On the
-other side of the thin partition of her little drawing-room, her
-neighbor, the musician, who was sometimes reinforced by a 'cellist, was
-filling all space with enamoured, passionate, and agitating sounds,
-enough to rend the heart. Love, love, everywhere and always love! For
-the first time in her life Odette, who adored love, who but now had been
-delighting in talking freely of love, who even admitted the justice of
-some of Clotilde's assertions on the superlatively beneficent office of
-love, Odette felt that in thinking of love and talking of love with her
-friend she had lost tone, and now she had only one thought, heard only
-the one voice from beyond the tomb. "When I am talking with my friend,"
-she said to herself, "I seem to be taking part in what is said, or is
-laughed at; yes, but I take part in it like the dead to whom it is given
-to perceive earthly things once more. The war, when it robbed me of my
-Jean, crushed the vitality of my body. My heart has become forever
-insensible. I am carried along in the whirlwind of present events like
-the threshed straw which might float above the standing harvest,
-thinking to recognize in it stalks like itself, without realizing that
-the iron has cut it off, separated it forever from the earth."
-</p>
-<p>
-The moaning of the violoncello, the influence of the music, gave a sort
-of lyric inclination to her usually modest thought and contributed to
-increase her agitation.
-</p>
-<p>
-"The times are so hard," she continued, "that I have not had, for two
-years, the slight consolation of talking with any one of my love-sorrow.
-I could hope to do so with one alone, because her love is, so to speak,
-apart from the war. But when she speaks to me of love I perceive that
-her idea of love is not mine, or is no longer mine. The love that I bear
-within me is no longer accessible to any human creature!"
-</p>
-<p>
-The musician in the next room took up, as usual, her favorite
-<i>Nocturne</i>, accompanying it with her voice, wordlessly, until the
-grand, inspired utterance of desolation, thrice repeated, enwrapped the
-hearer like the long dark locks of night itself.
-</p>
-<p>
-Then Odette, solitary amidst the pictures of her well-beloved, fell into
-a long fit of weeping, as she had so often done before.
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<h4><a id="XXVI">XXVI</a></h4>
-
-<p>
-She found Clotilde alone next day at the lunch-hour, her husband being
-almost always late, especially when he had to go to fetch the blinded
-man. At last she recognized the voice of the handsome George in the
-anteroom, and saw him pushing before him, as a ventriloquist guides his
-automaton, a tall young man, neither handsome nor plain, in the uniform
-of a captain of light infantry, and with closed eyes. The blinded man
-bowed, and clasped the hand that Clotilde laid within his own; George
-explained to him that one of their friends was with them, a young
-war-widow, Mme. Jacquelin. The blind man also pressed the hand that
-Odette extended to him.
-</p>
-<p>
-He already knew the apartment with minute exactness. He walked to the
-table without aid, almost without feeling his way; and recognized each
-flower by its perfume; they directed his fingers to the primroses which
-have no perfume, and one would have said that his eager fingers
-recognized the table decorations as strange little mute personages.
-After a brief touch he knew the precise situation of each object; with
-the blade of his knife he recognized the nature of the food on his
-plate, and cut it adroitly. Possibly he might have been able to help
-himself, like others, from the dish presented by the servant, but he was
-spared the necessity of this feat by the question: "What do you prefer,
-captain?"
-</p>
-<p>
-He talked freely, almost gayly, though with an evident effort. He
-appeared to be intelligent without ever having been cultivated; but
-neither his person nor his mind revealed anything remarkable. He would
-doubtless have been a man like any other if he had not been blinded.
-</p>
-<p>
-Odette shuddered on looking at those closed eyelids on the face of a man
-in whom one divined, notwithstanding his effort to conceal it, a secret
-suffering. Yet his voice was not that of a man who bore a mystery about
-with him; his suffering probably did not attain to those higher regions
-which a rich imagination transforms into torture-chambers for men
-unhappily deprived of the light of day; he did not dream of romantic
-sunsets, of the contemplation of the celestial vault, or of Correggio's
-sunlight, nor even of the beauty of houris.
-</p>
-<p>
-As George was offering to his touch the cigars in a box, he whispered in
-his ear:
-</p>
-<p>
-"You have been lunching with a pretty-woman, old fellow, don't you
-know?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Your wife? I should think so!"
-</p>
-<p>
-"My wife, yes, but the other one, young, very pretty!"
-</p>
-<p>
-The blind man seemed to reflect, shook his head and said:
-</p>
-<p>
-"That always gives pleasure."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Her husband," George went on, "was killed in the early days&mdash;&mdash;"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Has she children?" asked the blinded man.
-</p>
-<p>
-"They had only been married three or four years; they would have
-had&mdash;&mdash;"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Perhaps she loved him too much? That sometimes happens, it appears."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Yes," said George.
-</p>
-<p>
-The blinded man turned his closed eyes, like an extinguished lighthouse,
-in Odette's direction. He experienced a curious feeling, almost envy, of
-the dead man who had been so much beloved.
-</p>
-<p>
-He became more interested in Odette. It appeared that she had nursed one
-of his comrades through a bad affair at Surville. Men cut to pieces,
-gaping wounds, sensational operations, and the agonized resignation of
-those young men did not produce in her one-quarter of the pitying revolt
-which was caused her by the eternal privation from light which a living,
-healthy being might suffer by her side.
-</p>
-<p>
-In his presence she recovered something of her manner of speaking with
-the wounded, but her natural frankness was not animated by that smiling
-perspective of a still possible future which a woman perceives at the
-bedside of a soldier, even one who has lost a limb. The nurse speaks no
-falsehood when she says: "My little friend, when you are well, when you
-once more see your home, your village&mdash;" But when she is constrained
-to omit from her vocabulary the radiant word see, how constrained and
-powerless she is!
-</p>
-<p>
-Blinded men always awoke in her extreme compassion when she met them in
-the street, when they were spoken of in her presence. She remembered how
-tears had risen to her eyes, how her throat had contracted, when Simone
-had described that wedding at the Madeleine, the handsome couple coming
-down the steps, the bridegroom all adorned with decorations, in the face
-of an admiring crowd who suddenly perceived that he could not see. But
-she had never before been obliged to carry on a conversation with one of
-those beings whom the deprivation of a sense makes more different from
-ourselves than the loss of many limbs. She instinctively managed it very
-well, though she was moved to the last degree; she knew at once how to
-speak to one who had been greatly afflicted&mdash;as she would have done to
-a normal man, without appearing to notice his condition. The captain was
-grateful to her for it, and it was evident that he was much more at ease
-with Odette, on this first meeting, than he had ever succeeded in being
-with Clotilde, whom he had known a long time. Clotilde, incapable of
-dominating her selfishness, could have been brought by no human power to
-the point of forcing herself to an act not agreeable to herself. Her
-husband, who was pained by her attitude, said to her: "See how gracious
-Odette is!"
-</p>
-<p>
-The blinded man went away with his friend, evidently happy for having
-chatted with a pretty and afflicted woman, for having been able to
-induce her to act as if neither she nor he had been touched by
-misfortune.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Judge," said Clotilde when the two men had gone out, "to what point I
-am stupid and benumbed, and what a service you have rendered me! But I
-beg pardon for having inflicted it upon you."
-</p>
-<p>
-"When a thing of this sort pains me," said Odette, "I do not know what I
-feel. I have noticed that at the hospital, especially in the early days.
-I don't deny that it seems as if I were being rubbed the wrong way, but
-there is a sort of miraculous cure that acts of itself, penetrating like
-a drop of balm, to the very depths of the wound."
-</p>
-<p>
-"I don't understand you at all," said Clotilde; "a thing that bores me
-bores me, and when anything hurts me I simply must push it away or go
-away myself."
-</p>
-<p>
-"I used to be like you," said Odette; "I am still, in all that concerns
-my grief. For that there is no balm; nothing will ever heal it. Perhaps
-there is something exceptional in love; it takes possession of us, it
-makes us happy to an extent that blinds us to everything besides, or it
-wounds us to death. But all that is not love, and what tries to embitter
-us must carry its antidote within itself."
-</p>
-<p>
-"When we love," said Clotilde, "nothing else can seriously affect us."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Notwithstanding which, I assure you that I have often within the past
-two years been painfully affected, and I have not ceased to love."
-</p>
-<p>
-"You think so, my poor Odette! But if Jean had continued to be with you,
-you would have had no feeling but for him."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Clotilde, you are spoiled by happiness; you understand nothing!"
-</p>
-<p>
-Clotilde shook her head. She felt that she had somewhat nettled her
-friend in unveiling her thought to her.
-</p>
-<p>
-"You will come again all the same, Odette? Even to face my blind man?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"If you wish," said Odette sadly.
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<h4><a id="XXVII">XXVII</a></h4>
-
-<p>
-Clotilde's state of mind, which she had until now rather enjoyed, began
-to trouble Odette. She had thought herself entirely in harmony with
-Clotilde, just as Clotilde had imagined herself to think in unison with
-Odette, because both of them loved, and because until then nothing had
-seemed to come between them. But to-day Odette was repelled by
-Clotilde's attitude, her ivory tower, her aversion to suffering, and her
-lack of suavity. "I used to be like her," Odette said to herself. "Am I
-different now because events have taken me by storm? Or is it indeed, as
-she says, because Jean, whom I surely do not love less, is not here to
-engross me?"
-</p>
-<p>
-She was terrorized by this idea, which nevertheless she felt to be
-false. She was overwhelmed with remorse and accused herself of having
-grown cool in the worship of her husband. It was true that too many
-things were conspiring to lead her away from the thought which ought to
-be her only one. She returned once more to her mortuary chapel, her
-relics, her portraits. To guard against her sorrow being frittered away
-by the many sympathies with which her walks inspired her, she shut
-herself up at home. The winter, aggravated by the hostile cold, was so
-depressing, the news from without was so gloomy, that Odette fell into a
-sort of neurasthenia. She, who had never known illness, was constrained
-to call in a physician. He ordered, not medicine, but diversion at any
-cost.
-</p>
-<p>
-"There are still many theatres open," he said; "I don't ask you to go to
-see 'gay pieces,' which are cruder than anything else, but go to
-something good. A woman of your years," he added, "has no right to let
-herself die of inanition."
-</p>
-<p>
-She obeyed the doctor, not to save her health, but because she was
-touched with shame. Here was another who said to her: "You have no
-right." It was a middle-aged physician of great celebrity, and even
-intelligent; he had lost his two sons in the war; his wife had died of
-grief, he himself was mobilized and was working hard in the hospitals.
-</p>
-<p>
-She went once to a benefit performance. <i>Carmen</i> was given. She had
-adored that work whose obscure and brilliant genius had often benumbed
-her like a bunch of dark carnations with their pungent fragrance. But
-her attention was captured by the presence at her side of a
-sublieutenant whose sleeve hung empty by his side, and when the young
-man, all on fire, turned to his neighbor on the other side, who must
-have been his mother, or to some friends behind him, the soft,
-superfluous cloth, with its short gold braid brushed Odette's knee. The
-officer became aware of it and, excusing himself, gathered up the cloth
-with his right hand. More than this, from one of the boxes broke out, at
-almost regular and too frequent intervals, a man's laugh, abrupt,
-uncontrollable, and without the least relation to the dramatic work that
-was being given. Several persons turned that way, indignant at first,
-even angry, until one of them perceived that this ill-timed gayety came
-from an officer who was listening with the utmost seriousness, but who
-was affected by the results of a cerebral shock. Word was whispered
-about, no head was again turned; every one was universally commiserating
-the infirmity whose tragic character equalled that of the masterpiece to
-which they were listening.
-</p>
-<p>
-"'You must be diverted at any cost,'" thought Odette.
-</p>
-<p>
-"In the matter of therapeutics," her friend La Villaumer said to her,
-not long after this experience, "for my part I believe in a very old
-rule, which says: 'For great evils great remedies.' In times like ours,
-for any one who has greatly suffered, diversions are less appropriate
-than strenuous tasks."
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<h4><a id="XXVIII">XXVIII</a></h4>
-
-<p>
-Odette went occasionally to lunch with Clotilde to help her entertain
-her blinded man. In general she went about fitfully, now here, now
-there, to offer her small services. She was welcomed at sales, for she
-pleased people.
-</p>
-<p>
-She even inspired, at her booths, what people call passions&mdash;sudden
-and burning&mdash;which, however, manifested themselves indirectly and
-discreetly, so much did even the boldest man dread to approach a young
-widow universally known to be so proper, and so faithful to her grief.
-</p>
-<p>
-The first was a commandant of infantry who had been wounded three or
-four times, and who had a long convalescent leave; he was barely
-thirty-four years old, and was one of the finest types of soldier in the
-present war. After having conversed with Odette he sent a friend to ask
-her if later, strictly speaking, much later, she would consent to become
-his wife. She declined the request as if it had been insane; could any
-one suppose that she would ever marry again?
-</p>
-<p>
-The second was a man about fifty years of age, well known about town, a
-member of the Jockey Club, enjoying, as the novels say, an immense
-fortune and unquestionably holding a very prominent position in society.
-He was the organizer of most of the war charities in which Odette's help
-had been sought. He loaned for them his buildings and what remained to
-him of his staff of servants, gave to them his time and his purse.
-Odette had touched him with one of those lightning strokes which reach
-only men of that age, and after her refusal he fell violently ill,
-remained depressed, downcast, aged, incapable of managing his business,
-obliged to retire to one of his country-places, where he became
-oblivious of everything, even of the war and its evils, of which up to
-this time he had thought only to seek a remedy, thinking now only of the
-cruel Odette.
-</p>
-<p>
-She was as indifferent to this adventure as to the other,
-notwithstanding the friendly remonstrances that poured in upon her. The
-latter offer had been made to her through Mme. de Blauve, and this
-friend, while bowing to the sentiment of fidelity which bound Odette to
-a beloved memory, took courage to point out to her that in the midst of
-her married happiness she had failed to found a family. Odette, with all
-her intelligence, her sincere devotion, did not understand. She had
-loved one man; she continued to love his memory. No other idea, with
-whatever importance it might be clothed, commanded her respect; she
-understood only her own heart, which simply clung like an ivy to the
-tree, however dried up it might be, and to which no power could prevent
-her clinging.
-</p>
-<p>
-All Odette's friends shared Mme. de Blauve's opinion, however unlike
-they might be to this noble woman&mdash;ail of them, even to Clotilde.
-</p>
-<p>
-Yes, even Clotilde blamed her for not having at least accepted the young
-commandant. Odette was amazed at this, the result being that these two
-loving women fell out.
-</p>
-<p>
-La Villaumer, to whom Odette confided this trouble, said to her:
-</p>
-<p>
-"If your friend Clotilde were to be so unfortunate as to lose her
-husband, whom she adores, the chances are sixty to a hundred that after
-a certain time she would love another as much or almost as much as him,
-while you judge such a transferrence of love inadmissible."
-</p>
-<p>
-"But, after all, one loves or one does not love; that is perfectly
-simple!"
-</p>
-<p>
-"No, indeed, it is not so simple as that. One loves and one can love as
-Clotilde does, or as you do, yourself. We do not easily distinguish
-differences so long as lovers, being united, are happy."
-</p>
-<p>
-"You frighten me. Are there then loves that are not love? Is not
-sentiment the finest thing in love? And can there be a fine sentiment
-that is not lasting?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"In the first place, my dear friend, permit me to believe that you do
-not profess your sentiment because it is fine, nor does it last with you
-because you find it beautiful. You find your sentiment beautiful because
-it is yours. You look upon it as lasting indefinitely because your eyes
-are incapable of looking as far as its end; that is all. In your case
-there is no constraint, no submission to any law, aesthetic or moral.
-You feel that way. Your friend Clotilde loves in her way, and she finds
-it beautiful, believe me."
-</p>
-<p>
-"All the same! All the same, there is an almost general consent to
-consider that love superior which is adorned with sentiment, and does
-not consent to be short-lived."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Yes; and this is in conformity with the morality which has ruled us
-thus far. This morality is all delicacy. But, reduced to this degree of
-purity, will it suffice to keep alive a struggle as ardent as the one
-which we are now witnessing, for the possession of a part of the outside
-of the world, or even for the supremacy of certain ideas? It must
-concede provisionally a preponderance to material, mortal life, since it
-is evident that the morality of the just will triumph only on condition
-that it has force on its side. Do you follow me, my poor friend? All
-this is very dry. But this is my way of telling you that these
-crystalline sentiments, that are an 'ornament' in ordinary times, become
-a luxury in our age of iron and fire. Luxury is no longer permissible.
-The time has come when all refinements must give way to a very stern
-reality. As you have been very well told: 'We are not our own.' General
-consent? It should be given to the best good of the cause which unites
-us all, and carries us all away with itself. Forgive me, my very dear
-friend. I am going to commit a rudeness which gives me pain&mdash;and you
-know that only the extremity of an unheard-of calamity could bring me to
-that&mdash;yes, your sentiment, with its persistence, is beautiful in
-itself, most beautiful; but we are no longer at leisure to look at things
-'in themselves.' Well, if your friend Clotilde had lost her husband in your
-place and at the same time, and if she were to-day the wife of another
-who had made her a mother, for example, we ought really to hold her case
-in higher esteem than yours!"
-</p>
-<p>
-A sob choked Odette. They were walking along the Champs-Elysées. She
-sought for a chair and sank upon it.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I am not vexed with you," she said as soon as she could speak;
-"something in my inmost being understands you&mdash; It has already been
-said to me&mdash; But it is hard!"
-</p>
-<p>
-"The time is exceptional."
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<h4><a id="XXIX">XXIX</a></h4>
-
-<p>
-Odette spent much of her time in consoling poor Rose. Her husband's
-death had passed almost unnoticed. But other and very dramatic deaths
-had also passed unnoticed. When men were brought home in fragments it
-made a sensation, but once they were dead the sad equality of the earth
-obscured their memory. Indescribable episodes had attained such a
-character, and had reached such numbers, that people hardly dared speak
-of them. Minds were saturated and automatically closed against any new
-sensation. Many were unable to endure any story of the war, whether in
-the newspapers or in books. Odette recalled to mind the impression which
-the wounded had formerly made. They were already saying "formerly" when
-speaking of the present war! Now there were wounded everywhere. It was
-rather the unscathed men upon whom one looked as if to say to them: "See
-here, you! what are you doing with your arms, with your legs?" Certain
-persons, with a strong revulsion of the instinct of self-preservation,
-refused, like Clotilde, even to think about the war; others, on the
-other hand, buried themselves in it with passionate intensity.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mme. de Blauve, who had become fond of Odette and occasionally came to
-see her, now came to announce the marriage of her eldest daughter. She
-told the news almost as if saying: "At last!" as if it were the case of
-an old maid whom she had despaired of marrying off. Mlle. de Blauve was
-barely sixteen, she was attractive and endowed with much charm, had been
-most carefully educated, and promised to be really beautiful. She was to
-marry a wounded sublieutenant.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Ah!" said Odette; "does she love him?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"He is a young man of good family," said Mme. de Blauve, "and he has
-behaved admirably."
-</p>
-<p>
-"But he will return to the front! You will be in perpetual anxiety!"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Not that," replied Mme. de Blauve. "To be sure, my daughter would have
-liked to be the wife of a soldier who remained a soldier, like her
-father. But soldiers in active service will always find some one to
-marry them, and wives must be found for those less favored, who have
-been checked in their career&mdash;&mdash;"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Has her fiancé been retired?" asked Odette. "Don't tell me that he is
-badly&mdash;&mdash;"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Oh, this is not the time to think about things that girls used to care
-for; the question is to save our men by giving them wives, so that they
-may be in a position to found a family. This young man is from the
-devastated regions. He has lost all his family&mdash;some of them have been
-shot, others have died during the occupation of the enemy&mdash;and it is
-entirely impossible for him to earn a decent living. We ourselves have
-sacrificed more blood than money; my daughter will still have a certain
-amount of fortune, therefore&mdash;&mdash;"
-</p>
-<p>
-"But what is the matter with him? What has he lost?" asked Odette,
-thinking only of that absolute union of two beings which had illuminated
-her own life.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Oh, it is very sad," said Mme. de Blauve; "my future son-in-law is one
-of those most deserving of interest, who have received face wounds. His
-face&mdash;how can I tell you?&mdash;lacks almost everything except the
-passages that are necessary for eating and breathing&mdash;&mdash;"
-</p>
-<p>
-Odette uttered an inarticulate exclamation and rang the bell. But she
-did not faint until Mme. de Blauve was gone.
-</p>
-
-<p><br /></p>
-
-<p>
-The case of Mlle. de Blauve evoked more criticism than admiration.
-According to some it was absolutely too terrible and not to be thought
-about. In most cases, however, sensitiveness had been so dulled by the
-constant hearing of war-stories that very little attention was paid to
-this act of superhuman devotion. Some said: "The mother is crazy and the
-young girl does not realize what she is doing. One may do violence to
-nature, or may dupe it for a short time; this is a time when we ought to
-resolve upon any sacrifice, even to throwing ourselves into the arms of
-death; but death is either the end or the beginning of the unknown. The
-idea of marrying a superb girl of sixteen to a man without a face!"
-</p>
-<p>
-Yet every one knew that far from bringing pressure to bear upon her
-daughter, Mme. de Blauve had made every possible effort to prevent her
-marrying another wounded man, an unlucky fellow who, approaching a
-trench with a grenade in each hand, had had both eyes burned at the very
-moment when a bursting shell had set off the two grenades and shattered
-both hands. What she was now doing was a slight thing in comparison with
-the thing that she had prevented.
-</p>
-<p>
-Odette felt that she must know La Villaumer's opinion on this matter.
-They had no regular engagement for meeting, and met only by chance. She
-decided to go to his house shortly before the luncheon hour. An old
-servant ushered her into a room where, to her great surprise, she heard
-the tones of a harmonium mingled with a man's voice entirely untrained.
-It proceeded from the neighboring room, separated from her by a glass
-door partly screened by a curtain of Chinese silk. The thing was so
-unusual and so puzzling that she could not refrain from peeping around
-the edge of the curtain. She saw at the instrument an organist whom she
-knew, and standing beside him a man bereft of both arms, and the pose of
-whose head was that of a blind man trying to catch the notes which the
-teacher was patiently repeating. All around them were soldiers wearing
-black glasses, with closed eyes or with bandaged faces, and Villaumer in
-his dressing-gown coming and going among them. He suddenly disappeared
-and came into the room where Odette was standing.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I have caught you!" said she. "Try now to convince me that what I have
-been told of you is not true! You are no longer in your own home!"
-</p>
-<p>
-"My good friend," he replied, "I am having lessons given to the most
-unfortunate of those unhappy ones whom evil fortune and inaction are
-driving to despair. They are being taught the rudiments of music; they
-are trying to sing; it occupies them."
-</p>
-<p>
-"I knew that you were kind&mdash;&mdash;"
-</p>
-<p>
-"I am not kind; I am generally severe upon men. But the sight of
-misfortune is intolerable to me; and for men like these, who have been
-three-quarters destroyed for the sake of saving us, yes, I confess that
-I could give my last shirt; I would wait upon them at table&mdash; Will you
-take luncheon with us?"
-</p>
-<p>
-Through the half-open door into the dining-room she could see a table
-spread for twelve.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Do you take lunch with them?" asked Odette.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I permit myself that honor&mdash; It is my last self-indulgence. Well,
-will you take advantage of it?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"I cannot, my friend, I cannot. I should weep through the whole meal.
-That is not what they need."
-</p>
-<p>
-"No. One must have the courage to bestow upon them the gayety&mdash;which
-we don't possess. Social hypocrisy has not been practised all this time in
-vain, if it has taught this to some of us."
-</p>
-<p>
-"I am ashamed of my weakness," said Odette. "I should not flinch before
-any sort of wound, but the thought that the war has deprived a man of
-the light of day forces me to ask myself whether I myself have a right
-to look upon these beautiful silks, this sunlight&mdash;&mdash;"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Take pleasure in the silks, in objects of art, and in sunlight, you who
-are made to charm that portion of humanity that remains intact. You
-would not, on the pretext that millions of men have been plunged into
-darkness or death, irritate them gratuitously by an ill-regulated
-sympathy? Innumerable lives have, alas, been shattered, but life
-remains, the light is brilliant, plants are growing, animals and even
-men still swarm upon the earth. Recall to mind the tragic and
-paradoxical truth that human life, which is the highest work and appears
-to have been the purpose of the creation of the world, is that for
-which, on the whole, that great work appears to care the least. Whatever
-part man may be called to play, his destiny is to pass away. That horror
-of war with which we are inspired by the extermination of men is in the
-long run kept up and perpetuated by material depredations; the memory of
-an illustrious building destroyed will last longer than that of a
-hundred thousand young men mown down in their youth."
-</p>
-<p>
-"And meanwhile you are throwing overboard all you possess to rescue men
-who are only half alive. That is all that I wanted to know."
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<h4><a id="XXX">XXX</a></h4>
-
-<p>
-Odette spent several days in bed as a consequence of the marriage of the
-little de Blauve girl&mdash;which took place in the strictest privacy, and
-which she had not attended. But her imagination was lively, and she
-pictured things to herself.
-</p>
-<p>
-She sought out her friend La Villaumer, as it were, now that she had
-detected him in an act of kindness. As for him, in her presence he took
-less pains to conceal his acts, now that she understood him better.
-</p>
-<p>
-"I have always loved men," he said. "Why should I not love them since I
-have always professed to criticise them? Have I misunderstood them?
-Remember how indulgent I was for all that in them is so far removed from
-the only thing that I really prize&mdash;intelligence. How vulnerable I
-have been to their instincts! How I have smiled at their innumerable
-follies! I simply enjoyed studying them, without the slightest
-partiality, notwithstanding my secret reverence for reason, which seems
-to me to be a torch lighted at the altar of a god and carefully
-transmitted by certain privileged beings to certain privileged beings,
-while yet the chain that they form never succeeds&mdash;no one can tell
-why&mdash;in producing an illumination. Therefore, I have never believed
-that the world belonged to what we have learned to venerate under the
-name of intelligence. Intelligence is a divine part which no doubt gives
-us notions of what there is on high, but which has almost no application
-to things here below. The world is not governed by intelligence.
-Sometimes intelligence makes converts, and we believe that its reign has
-come. Illusion! It is precisely then that we are upon the point of
-falling again into blessed ignorance, and going back to the age of
-barbarism. Do you know, I am tempted to believe that the age of
-barbarism is the normal period of humanity! We probably need cruelty,
-absurdity, injustice, superstition, torrents of bloodshed, in order that
-the mystery which we admire under the name of life may exist and
-perpetuate itself. Our bodies can be fed only by offensive means. The
-majority of human pleasures are unfathomably stupid. The great masses
-obey certain elementary formulas, sayings of which they have never
-weighed the meaning, and which often have no meaning. Governments are
-not carried on by luminous reasoning, but by the allurement of sounding
-words that flatter the senses. In order to hold our own in a large and
-influential social group, my poor friend, are we going to be called to
-admit the timeliness of belief in prophets, in wonder-workers, in
-ghosts, in the platitudes of 'apparitions,' in the genius of simple
-minds? Is a torrent of puerility about to inundate the surface of the
-globe? May it be that this is the indispensable element of reparation?
-Intelligence, reduced to its own resources, has in fact no power of
-expansion, no means of action. It is enough to make one die of shame and
-vexation! Law, justice, liberty&mdash;we can imagine men shrugging their
-shoulders when they hear the words, for the words are efficacious only
-when they are emptied of their significance and travestied into
-elementary ideas which naturally lead to the violation of law, liberty,
-justice. In the matter of ideas men believe only in their tutelary
-virtue; they are protecting divinities; and the idea is nothing but a
-word that men symbolize on their flagstaffs, like a fetich. We are as
-credulous as Homer's warriors. Minerva fights with us. For that matter,
-I do not think that there ever was a better opportunity for adopting the
-theocratic conception of the world, for men are at this moment given
-over to the elements, and the greatest political genius imaginable would
-probably be powerless so long as the convulsions with which the world is
-attacked are not quieted of themselves. In these conditions there is no
-room in the home of a poor fellow for any but the virtues of pity and
-affection. I confess the fact, my dear Odette, I can no longer control
-my heart."
-</p>
-<p>
-"To be moved to compassion is to be weakened, I have been told."
-</p>
-<p>
-"There is truth in that opinion so far as those persons are concerned
-who are more especially called by circumstances to act, and especially
-to direct the actions of others; such must put on blinders and look only
-to the immediate purpose which demands all their energies. But it is
-desirable that in the midst of this tempest-tossed world a few
-contemplative persons shall devote themselves to pity as to the
-conservation of a 'precious blood'; if only for the sake of the
-efficacy, or at least of the beauty of the thing. And the worshippers at
-this altar will need to contend&mdash;do you know with whom?&mdash;with
-humanity itself, which has little remembrance of its own ills, and
-which, like a kitten, hastens to play with the first ray of sunshine. It
-is true that the dead keep a great silence."
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<h4><a id="XXXI">XXXI</a></h4>
-
-<p>
-Odette was at home one evening, and alone. Stretched out upon a lounge,
-she was gazing at the photographs of Jean on little tables or within her
-reach upon the walls, hypnotizing herself with the sight of them,
-kissing them as she always did.
-</p>
-<p>
-Amelia came in saying that the next apartment was "crammed full."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Madame, if there aren't twenty men six feet high in that room, my own
-poor husband isn't a prisoner with the Boches!"
-</p>
-<p>
-In fact there was a great commotion on the other side of the partition.
-Furniture and chairs were being moved about, and as all sounds
-penetrated through the cracks of the door, the syllables of an
-unfamiliar language could be heard, perhaps Rumanian or Russian. The
-neighbor was a foreigner.
-</p>
-<p>
-Suddenly there was silence. Amelia had withdrawn. It was an imposed,
-perhaps a concerted, silence. "It is a musical recital," said Odette to
-herself. In fact she almost immediately recognized the sprightly touch
-of the pianist, mellow, languishing, melting into the keyboard as into a
-tender flesh, by turns nervous, light, cruel as a hammer, heavy as a
-pile-driver, seeming to crush the instrument, then suddenly soft,
-fluttering on the keys like the wing of a dying bird. Though the woman
-often played for herself alone, this was not the first time that many
-people had gathered around her to hear her music.
-</p>
-<p>
-A chorus of men's voices burst forth. It was strange, weird, enough to
-make one catch one's breath. Odette listened. That sensitiveness to
-music which often reached depths in her unknown to herself, was suddenly
-wrought up to its utmost pitch. She did not know the chorus, and sought
-in vain for an author to whom to ascribe it. It might be a popular song,
-perhaps very ancient, to judge by its artless simplicity, its pure
-rhythm, and its wild, sweet accent. At times a soprano voice uprose in a
-solo, and the chorus, a third below, responded softly in whisperings
-that grew nearer and nearer, quickly spreading like oil upon the sea, or
-as if transmitted from man to man over immense plains and endlessly
-flowing rivers. Suddenly two or three raucous or strident cries gathered
-up all the voices to a sharp point directed toward the heavens. Then all
-sound ceased, and one felt as if falling from a superb altitude into the
-depths of an abyss.
-</p>
-<p>
-Then the fingers of the enchantress executed a ballad of Balakireff,
-or Dvorak's hymn, "On the Death of a Hero." And then, after a pause,
-another chorus broke forth.
-</p>
-<p>
-There was in it all a melancholy which no words could so much as
-suggest, in which amid the uniformly plaintive murmur one discerned such
-lifelike wailings that one could have stretched out the hands to succor
-these vague, unrecognized, and multiplied sufferings. They swelled,
-spread abroad, took on so mighty an extension that in spite of oneself
-one saw the surface of the suffering world, heard the feeble and
-resigned voice of man, of man always the sport of fate, always in
-leading-strings, always sacrificed like cattle to gods whose secret he
-could not fathom. It was the lament of the ancient earth of humanity,
-timid, uncouth, and despairing, issuing from bruised hearts, from torn
-flesh, from souls robbed of their innocent ideals, a disturbing lament
-issuing from the borders of marshes, from forests, from glacial plains,
-from desert steppes, from nameless villages, prisons, palaces,
-battlefields, tombs, and stoically, pathetically, and yet childishly
-addressed to&mdash;no one!
-</p>
-<p>
-Odette had often been on the verge of sentiments corresponding to this
-music, primitive, barbarous, perhaps divine, but when music comes to be
-mingled with our sentiments it reveals them to themselves and amplifies
-them without measure. Odette saw what she had never dared to see; for
-the first time she was transported outside of herself, or at least she
-felt the conviction that she was. It produced in her such an overturning
-of her points of view as almost to make her dizzy. She suddenly
-discovered how completely she had considered everything with reference
-to herself, even in her seemingly most generous moments. At this instant
-she thought of herself in relation to the incalculable number of persons
-who were not she. It was not that the moans of humanity were now
-reaching her for the first time, but it was the first time that the sobs
-of others came to her ears with a tone of majestic sadness which forced
-her to grovel upon the earth, saying: "I no longer count; I am only the
-servant of grief."
-</p>
-<p>
-It was a painful sentiment if there is one, and yet, by a curious
-contradiction, a sentiment in the same degree joyful. A boundless
-commiseration caused her heart to throb and tears to come to her eyes,
-and yet this painful sympathy, far from being cruel or depressing,
-wrought in her soul an unsuspected outflowering, like an outburst of
-inconceivable elation in which was mingled bitterness and pity.
-</p>
-<p>
-There is no compensation for the personal suffering that we may
-experience. On the contrary, in a close and complete union with the
-sufferings of others is hidden a joy of mutual pain; an active desire to
-give aid impels to the beginning of a helpful act, provokes to so
-fervent a prayer for heavenly mercy that the heart no longer knows
-whether it lies prone in utter distress or has attained to a radiant
-phase of existence incomparably higher than its paltry estate as an
-isolated being. The word "love" presents itself to a soul thus
-irradiated without any sustaining form which might limit its character;
-it is without extent as without form; as to the source that feeds it,
-springing up no one knows where, one is convinced that there is no fear
-that it will ever be exhausted.
-</p>
-<p>
-Odette often wept, but to-day it was with other tears. She took up one
-of Jean's photographs and found but one word to say to it:
-</p>
-<p>
-"Forgive me!"
-</p>
-<p>
-She understood neither what she felt nor what she was doing, but she was
-conscious of failing Jean. Not of failing Jean in favor of another, but
-for the sake of a multitude of others among whom no one man could be
-discerned. When she was able to formulate a thought, she said to
-herself: "I was pitying." She might have said: "Charity has taken
-possession of me."
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<h4><a id="XXXII">XXXII</a></h4>
-
-<p>
-There was no sign that any event had occurred that evening. Odette had
-spent it alone in her little drawing-room. The chorus in the next
-apartment was stilled. But that evening was made up of the most
-important hours which the young wife had experienced since the death of
-her husband.
-</p>
-<p>
-Odette was aware that something had been revealed within herself, but
-she was ill adapted to analyze herself, and the phenomenon was still
-wrapped in mist. It had manifested its reality only by a single act of
-hers&mdash;an act which she remembered, which abode with her: the prayer
-for forgiveness addressed to the picture of her beloved Jean. She returned
-continually to this material fact; she had seized the photograph and had
-kissed it as if she had been at fault. Thanks to this fact, the
-spiritual operations of which it was the conclusion were not arrested,
-did not vanish like smoke, and pursued her that night, on the morrow,
-and during the following days.
-</p>
-<p>
-So sudden a burst of light might indeed have been ephemeral in
-character. We are all subject, especially under an exterior influence
-acting upon the senses, to similar spasms of enthusiasm, or to dreams of
-a like generosity which may be only a passing impulse. They die away and
-we return to a condition which we call reasonable, that is to say,
-lucid, calm, well-balanced, and tame.
-</p>
-<p>
-With Odette this illumination had not the character of a sudden impulse,
-but was rather the outcome of a long and almost unconscious preparation.
-How many words, how many tidings, how many hints registered in her
-memory, how many puzzling suggestions, how many dramatic scenes, how
-many ideas had been as so many arrows of direction, guiding her toward
-the place where she had received the divine spark! How many books read,
-how many musings, apparently without result, had determined the
-direction that had brought her here! Odette was like a clay which during
-two and a half years had been continually receiving the touches of a
-thumb or chisel, powerless to give her the form which an invisible
-artist desired her to take, and the last touch, removing an encumbering
-bit, had produced precisely the shape desired.
-</p>
-<p>
-Odette awoke next morning in the same condition in which she had fallen
-asleep, with the one difference that she no longer wept. But the tears
-of the evening had had their sweetness. She found herself in an almost
-grateful tranquillity. She went and came in the midst of Jean's
-photographs, and Jean did not reproach her for her new state of mind.
-His memory seemed to be in nowise outraged. And yet Odette did not
-forget that she had begged his forgiveness, as if it had been possible
-that she had failed him. This fact marked a well-determined date in the
-perturbations of her soul. But it seemed to her that she had received to
-her "Forgive me!" a gentle, calming reply, a loving approbation.
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<h4><a id="XXXIII">XXXIII</a></h4>
-
-<p>
-Yet the moment came when it seemed to her that she was losing her
-reason. She had seen many cases of cerebral disturbance since the war;
-they had been more or less apparent. Some persons of her acquaintance
-had been duly shut up in insane asylums, but there were many at large
-who showed the almost imperceptible wound by which the microbe had
-penetrated.
-</p>
-<p>
-By way of discovering whether or no she was mentally affected, she
-imposed upon herself the test of behaving for a while like a woman who
-has decided to lead the usual life until the end. She said to herself:
-"I am not insane, for I think it requires more courage to adopt, every
-day and every hour, the attitude of ordinary life, as if the war did not
-exist&mdash;seeing that the majority of people who act thus have been
-crushed or tortured by it&mdash;than to give oneself up to the monster
-bound hand and foot. I am the less strong in not being able to endure
-the commingling of both interests and throwing myself into these
-horrors. I should be senseless if I deemed my own actions alone to be
-good, beautiful, and worthy. But I am judging myself. I am therefore not
-demented."
-</p>
-<p>
-Out of curiosity she went one day to see Clotilde, still by way of test.
-"To measure myself," she said to herself.
-</p>
-<p>
-Clotilde's undue self-satisfaction made her friends really
-uncomfortable, a discomfort which from the first they had sought to hide
-or refused to recognize, which until now such a friend as Odette had
-even refused to admit, but which to-day she could not endure. Clotilde,
-surrounded by flowers, bathed in a perfumed atmosphere, talked only of a
-change she had made in the decoration of her rooms, of her clothes, or
-of matters so utterly foreign to current events that it seemed as if for
-her the latter had no existence. She never went out, lest she should be
-obliged to see or hear disagreeable things, and yet never had she bought
-so many hats and gowns as since the war. On her earlier visits Odette
-had slightly shrugged her shoulders as if amused and not wholly
-displeased. By degrees, the disproportion between such interests and the
-wound with which the whole world was bleeding overmastered her ability
-to make allowances.
-</p>
-<p>
-Odette reminded her friend that she had not of late called upon her for
-help, and asked if she had lost her blind man. Clotilde was amazingly
-frank in her reply:
-</p>
-<p>
-"My darling, 'my blind man,' as you call him, continues to exist and to
-charm my husband. But what would you have? It is not that I am lost to
-all sense of humanity, but you can imagine how the presence of this man
-annoys me. He cannot see me, I am nothing to him, and it is necessary
-for me to please&mdash;&mdash;"
-</p>
-<p>
-"But one may please even those who don't see us. One can try to amuse
-these unfortunates, to make time pass pleasantly for them&mdash;&mdash;"
-</p>
-<p>
-"You speak as if you possessed some gift in which I am lacking. It is
-only that you like them, and know how to please them&mdash;&mdash;"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Oh!"
-</p>
-<p>
-"You succeed in pleasing them! This man who visits us, with whom you
-took lunch, is always asking for you. He never so much as speaks of me.
-And yet it is I who permit him to come!"
-</p>
-<p>
-"A man who cannot see you in your place at the head of the table, and to
-whom you never give any proof that you are there, may naturally forget
-you."
-</p>
-<p>
-"You find it all right because he doesn't forget you. He dotes upon you,
-by what George says; he asks for news of you, he longs to hear your
-voice! He annoys me. In fact, child, it was precisely on your account,
-I admit, that I was obliged to turn him away; he was falling in love
-with you. Can you imagine it? You ought to thank me!"
-</p>
-<p>
-"In love with me! If that were true I should be all the more sorry for
-him, poor man! But he must have heard about me? He knows that I am not
-to be had?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"He hasn't gone as far as that; he only feels happy in your company.
-When you are not there he misses you. That is all."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Well, where is the love in that? He is like the wounded men whom I have
-nursed; they were happy in my company; when I went away, I suppose they
-missed me. If I had concluded from that that they were in love with
-me&mdash;&mdash;"
-</p>
-<p>
-"You didn't conclude it, on your part, but as for them, what do you
-know? Perhaps you broke their hearts!"
-</p>
-<p>
-"You are romantic and think only of love! Men who have suffered as they
-have, prefer to think of their own comfort, and of those who make them
-comfortable. I knew a nurse seventy years old for whom her patients
-clamored like children. Were they in love with her?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"That proves nothing. A blind man feels very clearly whether the woman
-near him is one who charms."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Then he ought also to feel the compassion that he inspires, and that
-does not lead to love."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Are you uncomfortable in the presence of a blind man?"
-</p>
-<p>
-"It is an undefinable emotion; my head turns. I lose my self-command."
-</p>
-<p>
-"You didn't seem to, here."
-</p>
-<p>
-"One does almost involuntarily the thing that costs the most, if one is
-determined to comfort those whose misfortunes arouse your emotions."
-</p>
-<p>
-And they talked of other things.
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<h4><a id="XXXIV">XXXIV</a></h4>
-
-<p>
-Odette would no doubt have forgotten "her" blind man if a visit which
-Mme. de Blauve paid her had not recalled him to mind in the most
-unexpected manner.
-</p>
-<p>
-Mme. de Blauve, whose calmness had always impressed every one, from the
-time when she was living under the bombardment of Rheims through the
-days in which she had made the sacrifice of her husband, her two sons,
-and, one may say, her daughter, now appeared unnerved. She had grown
-thin; her eyes were sunken; she was evidently suffering.
-</p>
-<p>
-With her habitual resolution she opened to Odette the purpose of her
-visit. She had heard&mdash;it was rumored&mdash;that her dear friend,
-having amply and worthily overpassed the period of her widowhood, was
-purposing&mdash;not by inclination, but in order to accomplish a great
-act of charity&mdash;to become the wife of a blinded officer. People
-were talking about it. She herself had been extremely moved by the news,
-and all the more because she feared that she had incurred a certain
-responsibility in the matter, having probably been one of the first to
-urge upon the young widow the duty of a second marriage.
-</p>
-<p>
-Odette was amazed. What were people about? Never had she had the
-slightest idea of such a thing. Startled at first, she went on, almost
-laughing, to hear what Mme. de Blauve had to say.
-</p>
-<p>
-"It is untrue, you say," said Mme. de Blauve; "but, my little friend,
-experience has taught me that there is always a grain of truth at the
-bottom of a wide-spread rumor. Whether good or bad, such plants do not
-grow out of nothing."
-</p>
-<p>
-Odette told her upon how slight a fact this rumor might possibly have
-been based. She had lunched at Clotilde Avvogade's with a blinded
-officer, and Clotilde insisted that she had pleased him.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Nothing more would be needed!" said Mme. de Blauve, "and your friend
-has probably told the story all around. It must be so, for I have heard
-the name of the man, the institution where he has been re-educated; I
-even know all about his circumstances; he is a widower without fortune
-of any sort, and father of two little children about whom he feels great
-anxiety."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Well," said Odette, "for my part I knew nothing of these last
-particulars, and this is surely a proof that my romance has not gone
-very far."
-</p>
-<p>
-Mme. de Blauve was lost in apologies. Nevertheless, she did not go so
-far as to regret the step she had taken. If it proved to have no reason
-in the present case, an analogous case might arise; she knew Odette's
-susceptibility, the noble impulses of her soul, and it was her duty to
-warn her against impressions and impulses&mdash;&mdash;
-</p>
-<p>
-"What!" interrupted Odette; "you, madame, whose daughter&mdash;&mdash;"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Yes, yes, precisely I, 'whose daughter'&mdash;It is because my daughter
-has made a marriage&mdash;beautiful, surely, from the moral point of
-view, but, after all, a marriage&mdash;how shall I say it&mdash;somewhat
-daring, that I believe myself to be authorized to say to you: 'My very
-dear child, be careful, reflect!' Understand me; I regret nothing that
-has occurred; I congratulate myself on the happiness which my daughter
-is assuring to a victim of the war, who is a hundred times deserving of
-it. Let me tell you, by way of parenthesis, that my daughter has hope of
-a child, and I trust that God will bring everything out right,
-although&mdash;&mdash;"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Although," repeated Odette anxiously.
-</p>
-<p>
-"Although&mdash;oh, the dear child is lacking neither in love nor in
-admiration for her husband, who is a hero; but our poor human nature has
-strange revulsions&mdash;I tell you, you alone, in confidence; since my
-daughter has reason for hope of becoming a mother, she feels&mdash;alas!
-it is frightful, let me whisper it to you&mdash;she feels a sort of
-apprehension at the sight of her husband, whose terrible affliction you
-know of!&mdash; We must, at all costs, prevent her husband having the
-slightest suspicion of the&mdash;temporary&mdash;feeling that he
-inspires, and the young wife is obliged to put the strongest restraint
-upon herself in order to show nothing. Just how far this incessant
-constraint is consistent with the happy maintenance of her condition,
-and with hope for its normal outcome, who shall say? This is what we are
-asking ourselves, this is our anxiety."
-</p>
-<p>
-"Oh, dear, dear madame, how sorry I am for you!"
-</p>
-<p>
-"You understand that I would not wish to have to be sorry for you, in my
-turn, for a reason like this. It was to avoid it that I came here, as
-much humiliated by my apprehensions as I was proud on the day of the
-marriage. You have no plan of the sort, you tell me, my child? So much
-the better! But I have become excessively apprehensive; I am afraid of
-characters like yours, which may be inclined to do too well. Sometimes a
-little pride enters into the good or the noble things that we do. Do you
-understand?"
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<h4><a id="XXXV">XXXV</a></h4>
-
-<p>
-Mme. de Blauve had taken her leave with these words, and Odette, still
-breathless at the thought that there could be any question of her
-marrying, a little ruffled, even, remembered only the secret
-discomfiture confessed to by the mother of the poor little bride. It was
-one more cause of horror added to all those of which she was the daily
-witness. Her calamity had doubtless shaken Mme. de Blauve's spirit to
-the point of causing in her mind a sort of hallucination as to the fate
-which might be threatening the young widow. Or else Mme. de Blauve had
-made the most of slight rumors with no basis of truth, as a pretext for
-coming to confess her own anxiety. Or else&mdash;a conjecture which barely
-touched Odette's mind&mdash;Mme. de Blauve, as she had herself intimated,
-always erring through pride, felt a frightful satisfaction in the
-dangers with which she and her family were perpetually menaced,
-jealously guarding this bitter eminence, lest it might be seized upon by
-others! For one can come even to such a point.
-</p>
-<p>
-What analogy could there be between the marriage of the little de Blauve
-girl, an ignorant child, with one of the most horribly mutilated of
-soldiers, and an imaginary marriage between her, Odette, who was going
-on to her thirtieth year, with a blinded man who was not disfigured?
-Young girls, women, were marrying blinded men every day; many more of
-them would do so, one must hope! The case might indeed be peculiarly
-delicate for her, a widow still in love with her husband, and who was
-peculiarly sensitive to blindness; but if the case ever occurred it was
-she alone who had the right to judge of it. No one knew either the
-lasting nature of her grief or her personal repugnances; the matter in
-no slightest degree deserved attention.
-</p>
-<p>
-In fact, at the point that Odette had reached, she could imagine no
-limit to devotion. In the marriages now in question, there was no
-mention of anything that had formerly been called happiness; the only
-thought was of kindliness toward most deserving beings who were
-suffering under the greatest of misfortunes, and the greater their
-misfortune, the greater, it appeared, ought to be the pleasure of
-alleviating it. She did not approve of Mme. de Blauve, if it was she who
-had urged her daughter to a marriage of charity, but she could perfectly
-understand the daughter's having made such a marriage. If a temporary
-check now and then occurred, it was due to a pathological condition
-which would eventually cease. She recalled to mind one of her friends, a
-perfectly well-balanced girl, married to a very fine man whom she
-adored, who had taken a dislike to her husband during the whole period
-of her pregnancy, without in the least knowing why.
-</p>
-<p>
-A few days later Odette received a letter from Mme. de Calouas, still in
-Surville, alluding to the prospect of her marriage to a blinded officer.
-So the utterly unfounded rumor had made its way to the depths of
-Normandy! And Mme. de Calouas, who was wisdom itself, and utterly
-removed from any suggestion that might have acted upon Mme. de Blauve,
-wrote to her as Mme. de Blauve had spoken: "Yes, dear friend, marry; I
-have never concealed from you that it is almost your duty. But beware of
-an excess of zeal! Take care not to undertake more than a woman of your
-temperament, brought up as you have been, attached to a beloved memory
-as you still are, will be able to endure. Remember that many of us can
-be heroic for a few seconds, a few hours, a few days, but that is very
-different from a whole lifetime."
-</p>
-<p>
-Odette smiled, not only at the thought of what people were thinking of
-her, but at the solicitude which they expressed for her, and that sort
-of obsession for heroic acts which every one seemed to cherish. Odette
-had not the slightest intention of performing a heroic act. Nothing in
-her character had ever inclined her in that direction. Her heart was
-made for loving. She loved, she was sure that she loved. The one whom
-she loved was her husband&mdash;her Jean. She could ill analyze the
-character of the tenderness which at the same time she felt for every
-suffering creature on earth. And that was all. What would they have of
-her?
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<h4><a id="XXXVI">XXXVI</a></h4>
-
-<p>
-Nevertheless she continued to be disturbed by the strange rumor which
-had been set afloat, which was still afloat, and she promised herself to
-speak about it to Clotilde, who without doubt had been the cause of its
-diffusion.
-</p>
-<p>
-On drawing near to the house in which Clotilde lived, she met Lieutenant
-Avvogade guiding his blinded man by the arm. She had not so much as
-thought of avoiding such an encounter.
-</p>
-<p>
-When the blind man recognized Odette's voice his whole face was
-transfigured. He turned pale; he hardly had courage to speak. But she
-felt the effort with which his closed eyelids were directed toward the
-point in space from which her voice had come; her perfume had been
-wafted to him. This blinded man was looking at her, was seeing her in
-his imagination; perhaps he was seeing her much more beautiful, more
-alluring, than he had dreamed! He had been disturbed because
-opportunities to be with her had no longer been afforded him, and he did
-not know that it was not she herself who had prevented them. But an
-inward instinct, stronger than he had yet known, filled him with ecstasy
-in that moment of the young woman's presence. He inhaled her like a
-flower, he listened to her, was saturated with her. Believing himself to
-be behind the veil which hid the daylight from him, as behind a screen,
-he neglected to keep a watch on himself, to impose constraint upon
-himself. His emotion was evident to those who saw him, and the agitation
-of a man so much to be pitied impressed her profoundly.
-</p>
-<p>
-Odette told him that she had learned that he had two little children.
-Then the blinded man extended his hand to her; his throat contracted; he
-could not utter a word. Without hesitation Odette took the hand of this
-man, so good-hearted and so wretched, and let her own be enfolded in
-his. Not a word had been added to those alluding to the children, yet
-she felt that she had never heard from human lips such an expression of
-gratitude.
-</p>
-
-<p class="center">&nbsp;*<br />
-*&nbsp;&nbsp;*</p>
-
-<p>
-They were there, under the trees of the Square of the United States, one
-of the beauty spots of opulent, worldly Paris, where so many
-conventional words and actions must have been exchanged; and this
-agitated silence, those clasped hands, result of the universal woe,
-seemed to embody as in marble the symbol of a new beauty which effaced
-all that had before been known.
-</p>
-<p>
-As the blind man made a motion to relinquish her hand, Odette said:
-</p>
-<p>
-"<i>Au revoir</i>, messieurs"; and left them. The blind man remained
-motionless, either because he could not think it possible that she
-should go, or because he waited for his friend, who hesitated to urge
-him to leave the place.
-</p>
-
-<p class="center">&nbsp;*<br />
-*&nbsp;&nbsp;*</p>
-
-<p>
-Odette did not go up to Clotilde, even at the risk of permitting her
-lack of protestation to be accepted as acquiescence. She felt herself
-incapable of talking with any one whose heart was not overflowing. She
-did not disdain the sight of her flowers, her preoccupation with
-personal pleasures; she would despise nothing, these were tastes which
-inspired her rather with pity. Toward those who have greatly suffered it
-was not pity that she felt, but <i>attraction</i>; an irresistible
-attraction.
-</p>
-
-<p class="center">&nbsp;*<br />
-*&nbsp;&nbsp;*</p>
-
-<p>
-She was soon joined by one who greeted her. It was La Villaumer,
-returning from a visit to a sick man in the Rue Bizet. He turned toward
-the two men who were going away and asked Odette:
-</p>
-<p>
-"Then it is true? They told me&mdash;&mdash;"
-</p>
-<p>
-"Only one single thing is true," said Odette, "and that is that they
-told you."
-</p>
-<p>
-"There is only one single thing true," replied La Villaumer, "and that
-is that you feel as imperative a need to do good, as most poor mortals
-of good being done to them. If I had not seen&mdash;I should say to you, as
-others will say to you: 'My friend, take care, keep yourself in hand!'
-But I have just seen the face of this man who is deprived of light, and
-who perhaps feels the lack of you more than of the beauty of the light,
-and I tremble&mdash; It seems to me that I see you, my poor dear friend,
-reaching the last stage of an evolution which I have watched as if it
-had been my own. Many will look upon this acme of your self-sacrifice as
-an immolation. But I recall to mind the words that I have so often
-spoken to myself: 'You no longer Count!' The individual is dead&mdash;
-Provisionally, but for a time which we cannot estimate, the individual
-is dead&mdash; In fact, you yourself have perceived that you no longer have
-any rights, not even the right to mourn your unending grief. The moment
-has come to mourn more largely, more grandly, with the only grief that
-can save a soul like yours. The only hope of a resurrection lies in
-giving oneself to the common need, and losing oneself in it with love."
-</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
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