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diff --git a/23222-h/23222-h.htm b/23222-h/23222-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c07ee75 --- /dev/null +++ b/23222-h/23222-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1979 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" +"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=utf-8" /> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Fête at Coqueville, by Emile Zola</title> + +<style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + +body { margin-left: 20%; + margin-right: 20%; + text-align: justify; } + +h1, h2, h3, h4, h5 {text-align: center; font-style: normal; font-weight: +normal; line-height: 1.5; margin-top: .5em; margin-bottom: .5em;} + +h1 {font-size: 300%; + margin-top: 0.6em; + margin-bottom: 0.6em; + letter-spacing: 0.12em; + word-spacing: 0.2em; + text-indent: 0em;} +h2 {font-size: 150%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 1em;} +h3 {font-size: 130%; margin-top: 1em;} +h4 {font-size: 120%;} +h5 {font-size: 110%;} + +.no-break {page-break-before: avoid;} /* for epubs */ + +div.chapter {page-break-before: always; margin-top: 4em;} + +hr {width: 80%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em;} + +p {text-indent: 1em; + margin-top: 0.25em; + margin-bottom: 0.25em; } + +p.footnote {font-size: 90%; + text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +a:link {color:blue; text-decoration:none} +a:visited {color:blue; text-decoration:none} +a:hover {color:red} + +</style> + </head> + <body> + +<div style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Fête At Coqueville, by Émile Zola</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +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 <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. 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. +</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: The Fête At Coqueville<br /> + 1907</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Émile Zola</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Translator: L. G. Meyer</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: October 27, 2007 [eBook #23222]<br /> +[Most recently updated: December 27, 2021]</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: David Widger</div> +<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FÊTE AT COQUEVILLE ***</div> + +<h1>THE FÊTE AT COQUEVILLE</h1> + +<h2 class="no-break">By Emile Zola</h2> + +<h3>Translated by L. G. Meyer. +<br /><br /> +Copyright, 1907, by P. F. Collier & Son</h3> + +<hr /> + +<h2>Contents</h2> + +<table summary="" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto"> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0001">I</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0002">II</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0003">III</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0004">IV</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0005">V</a></td> +</tr> + +</table> + +<hr /> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"></a> +I</h2> + +<p> +Coqueville is a little village planted in a cleft in the rocks, two leagues +from Grandport. A fine sandy beach stretches in front of the huts lodged +half-way up in the side of the cliff like shells left there by the tide. As one +climbs to the heights of Grandport, on the left the yellow sheet of sand can be +very clearly seen to the west like a river of gold dust streaming from the +gaping cleft in the rock; and with good eyes one can even distinguish the +houses, whose tones of rust spot the rock and whose chimneys send up their +bluish trails to the very crest of the great slope, streaking the sky. It is a +deserted hole. Coqueville has never been able to attain to the figure of two +hundred inhabitants. The gorge which opens into the sea, and on the threshold +of which the village is planted, burrows into the earth by turns so abrupt and +by descents so steep that it is almost impossible to pass there with wagons. It +cuts off all communication and isolates the country so that one seems to be a +hundred leagues from the neighboring hamlets. +</p> + +<p> +Moreover, the inhabitants have communication with Grandport only by water. +Nearly all of them fishermen, living by the ocean, they carry their fish there +every day in their barks. A great commission house, the firm of Dufeu, buys +their fish on contract. The father Dufeu has been dead some years, but the +widow Dufeu has continued the business; she has simply engaged a clerk, M. +Mouchel, a big blond devil, charged with beating up the coast and dealing with +the fishermen. This M. Mouchel is the sole link between Coqueville and the +civilized world. +</p> + +<p> +Coqueville merits a historian. It seems certain that the village, in the night +of time, was founded by the Mahés; a family which happened to establish itself +there and which grew vigorous at the foot of the cliff. These Mahés continued +to prosper at first, marrying continually among themselves, for during +centuries one finds none but Mahés there. Then under Louis XIII appeared one +Floche. No one knew too much of where he came from.. He married a Mahé, and +from that time a phenomenon was brought forth; the Floches in their turn +prospered and multiplied exceedingly, so that they ended little by little in +absorbing the Mahés, whose numbers diminished until their fortune passed +entirely into the hands of the newcomers. Without doubt, the Floches brought +new blood, more vigorous physical organs, a temperament which adapted itself +better to that hard condition of high wind and of high sea. At any rate, they +are to-day masters of Coqueville. +</p> + +<p> +It can easily be understood that this displacement of numbers and of riches was +not accomplished without terrible disturbances. The Mahés and the Hoches detest +each other. Between them is a hatred of centuries. The Mahés in spite of their +decline retain the pride of ancient conquerors. After all they are the +founders, the ancestors. They speak with contempt of the first Floche, a +beggar, a vagabond picked up by them from feelings of pity, and to have given +away one of their daughters to whom was their eternal regret. This Floche, to +hear them speak, had engendered nothing but a descent of libertines and +thieves, who pass their nights in raising children and their days in coveting +legacies. And there is not an insult they do not heap upon the powerful tribe +of Floche, seized with that bitter rage of nobles, decimated, ruined, who see +the spawn of the bourgeoisie master of their rents and of their château. The +Floches, on their side, naturally have the insolence of those who triumph. They +are in full possession, a thing to make them insolent. Full of contempt for the +ancient race of the Mahés, they threaten to drive them from the village if they +do not bow their heads. To them they are starvelings, who instead of draping +themselves in their rags would do much better to mend them. +</p> + +<p> +So Coqueville finds itself a prey to two fierce factions—something like +one hundred and thirty inhabitants bent upon devouring the other fifty for the +simple reason that they are the stronger. +</p> + +<p> +The struggle between two great empires has no other history. +</p> + +<p> +Among the quarrels which have lately upset Coqueville, they cite the famous +enmity of the brothers, Fouasse and Tupain, and the ringing battles of the +Rouget ménage. You must know that every inhabitant in former days received a +surname, which has become to-day the regular name of the family; for it was +difficult to distinguish one’s self among the cross-breedings of the +Mahés and the Floches. Rouget assuredly had an ancestor of fiery blood. As for +Fouasse and Tupain, they were called thus without knowing why, many surnames +having lost all rational meaning in course of time. Well, old Françoise, a +wanton of eighty years who lived forever, had had Fouasse by a Mahé, then +becoming a widow, she remarried with a Floche and brought forth Tupain. Hence +the hatred of the two brothers, made specially lively by the question of +inheritance. At the Rouget’s they beat each other to a jelly because +Rouget accused his wife, Marie, of being unfaithful to him for a Floche, the +tall Brisemotte, a strong, dark man, on whom he had already twice thrown +himself with a knife, yelling that he would rip open his belly. Rouget, a +small, nervous man, was a great spitfire. +</p> + +<p> +But that which interested Coqueville most deeply was neither the tantrums of +Rouget nor the differences between Tupain and Fouasse. A great rumor +circulated: Delphin, a Mahé, a rascal of twenty years, dared to love the +beautiful Margot, the daughter of La Queue, the richest of the Floches and +chief man of the country. This La Queue was, in truth, a considerable +personage. They called him La Queue because his father, in the days of Louis +Philippe, had been the last to tie up his hair, with the obstinacy of old age +that clings to the fashions of its youth. Well, then, La Queue owned one of the +two large fishing smacks of Coqueville, the “Zéphir,” by far the +best, still quite new and seaworthy. The other big boat, the +“Baleine,” a rotten old patache, {1} belonged to Rouget, whose +sailors were Delphin and Fouasse, while La Queue took with him Tupain and +Brisemotte. These last had grown weary of laughing contemptuously at the +“Baleine”; a sabot, they said, which would disappear some fine day +under the billows like a handful of mud. So when La Queue learned that that +ragamuffin of a Delphin, the froth of the “Baleine,” allowed +himself to go prowling around his daughter, he delivered two sound whacks at +Margot, a trifle merely to warn her that she should never be the wife of a +Mahé. As a result, Margot, furious, declared that she would pass that pair of +slaps on to Delphin if he ever ventured to rub against her skirts. It was +vexing to be boxed on the ears for a boy whom she had never looked in the face! +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> + +1 Naval term signifying a rickety old concern. +</p> + +<p> +Margot, at sixteen years strong as a man and handsome as a lady, had the +reputation of being a scornful person, very hard on lovers. And from that, +added to the trifle of the two slaps, of the presumptuousness of Delphin, and +of the wrath of Margot, one ought easily to comprehend the endless gossip of +Coqueville. +</p> + +<p> +Notwithstanding, certain persons said that Margot, at bottom, was not so very +furious at sight of Delphin circling around her. This Delphin was a little +blonde, with skin bronzed by the sea-glare, and with a mane of curly hair that +fell over his eyes and in his neck. And very powerful despite his slight +figure; quite capable of thrashing any one three times his size. They said that +at times he ran away and passed the night in Grandport. That gave him the +reputation of a werwolf with the girls, who accused him, among themselves, of +“making a life of it”—a vague expression in which they +included all sorts of unknown pleasures. Margot, when she spoke of Delphin, +betrayed too much feeling. He, smiling with an artful air, looked at her with +eyes half shut and glittering, without troubling himself the least in the world +over her scorn or her transports of passion. He passed before her door, he +glided along by the bushes watching for her hours at a time, full of the +patience and the cunning of a cat lying in wait for a tomtit; and when +suddenly she discovered him behind her skirts, so close to her at times that +she guessed it by the warmth of his breath, he did not fly, he took on an air +gentle and melancholy which left her abashed, stifled, not regaining her wrath +until he was some distance away. Surely, if her father saw her he would smite +her again. But she boasted in vain that Delphin would some day get that pair of +slaps she had promised him; she never seized the moment to apply them when he +was there; which made people say that she ought not to talk so much, since in +the end she kept the slaps herself. +</p> + +<p> +No one, however, supposed she could ever be Delphin’s wife. In her case +they saw the weakness of a coquette. As for a marriage between the most +beggardly of the Mahés, a fellow who had not six shirts to set up housekeeping +with, and the daughter of the mayor, the richest heiress of the Floches, it +would seem simply monstrous. +</p> + +<p> +Evil tongues insinuated that she could perfectly go with him all the same, but +that she would certainly not marry him. A rich girl takes her pleasure as it +suits her; only, if she has a head, she does not commit a folly. Finally all +Coqueville interested itself in the matter, curious to know how things would +turn out. Would Delphin get his two slaps? or else Margot, would she let +herself be kissed on both cheeks in some hole in the cliff? They must see! +There were some for the slaps and there were some for the kisses. Coqueville +was in revolution. +</p> + +<p> +In the village two people only, the curé and the <i>garde champêtre?</i> +belonged neither to the Mahés nor to the Floches. The <i>garde champêtre</i>, +{2} a tall, dried-up fellow, whose name no one knew, but who was called the +Emperor, no doubt because he had served under Charles X, as a matter of fact +exercised no burdensome supervision over the commune which was all bare rocks +and waste lands. A sub-prefect who patronized him had created for him the +sinecure where he devoured in peace his very small living. +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> + +2 Watchman. +</p> + +<p> +As for the Abbé Radiguet, he was one of those simple-minded priests whom the +bishop, in his desire to be rid of him, buries in some out of the way hole. He +lived the life of an honest man, once more turned peasant, hoeing his little +garden redeemed from the rock, smoking his pipe and watching his salads grow. +His sole fault was a gluttony which he knew not how to refine, reduced to +adoring mackerel and to drinking, at times, more cider than he could contain. +In other respects, the father of his parishioners, who came at long intervals +to hear a mass to please him. +</p> + +<p> +But the curé and the <i>garde champêtre</i> were obliged to take sides after +having succeeded for a long time in remaining neutral. Now, the Emperor held +for the Mahés, while the Abbé Radiguet supported the Floches. Hence +complications. As the Emperor, from morning to night, lived like a bourgeois +[citizen], and as he wearied of counting the boats which put out from +Grandport, he took it upon himself to act as village police. Having become the +partizan of the Mahés, through native instinct for the preservation of society, +he sided with Fouasse against Tupain; he tried to catch the wife of Rouget in +<i>flagrante delicto</i> with Brisemotte, and above all he closed his eyes when +he saw Delphin slipping into Margot’s courtyard. The worst of it was that +these tactics brought about heated quarrels between the Emperor and his natural +superior, the mayor La Queue. Respectful of discipline, the former heard the +reproaches of the latter, then recommenced to act as his head dictated; which +disorganized the public authority of Coqueville. One could not pass before the +shed ornamented with the name of the town hall without being deafened by the +noise of some dispute. On the other hand, the Abbé Radiguet rallied to the +triumphant Floches, who loaded him with superb mackerel, secretly encouraged +the resistance of Rouget’s wife and threatened Margot with the flames of +hell if she should ever allow Delphin to touch her with his finger. It was, to +sum up, complete anarchy; the army in revolt against the civil power, religion +making itself complaisant toward the pleasures of the bourgeoisie; a whole +people, a hundred and eighty inhabitants, devouring each other in a hole, in +face of the vast sea, and of the infinite sky. +</p> + +<p> +Alone, in the midst of topsy-turvy Coqueville, Delphin preserved the laughter +of a love-sick boy, who scorned the rest, provided Margot was for him. He +followed her zigzags as one follows hares. Very wise, despite his simple look, +he wanted the curé to marry them, so that his bliss might last forever. +</p> + +<p> +One evening, in a byway where he was watching for her, Margot at last raised +her hand. But she stopped, all red; for without waiting for the slap, he had +seized the hand that threatened him and kissed it furiously. As she trembled, +he said to her in a low voice: “I love you. Won’t you have +me?” +</p> + +<p> +“Never!” she cried, in rebellion. +</p> + +<p> +He shrugged his shoulders, then with an air, calm and tender, “Pray do +not say that—we shall be very comfortable together, we two. You will see +how nice it is.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"></a> +II</h2> + +<p> +That Sunday the weather was appalling, one of those sudden calamities of +September that unchain such fearful tempests on the rocky coast of Grandport. +At nightfall Coqueville sighted a ship in distress driven by the wind. But the +shadows deepened, they could not dream of rendering help. Since the evening +before, the “Zéphir” and the “Baleine” had been moored +in the little natural harbor situated at the left of the beach, between two +walls of granite. Neither La Queue nor Rouget had dared to go out, the worst of +it was that M. Mouchel, representing the Widow Dufeu, had taken the trouble to +come in person that Saturday to promise them a reward if they would make a +serious effort; fish was scarce, they were complaining at the markets. So, +Sunday evening, going to bed under squalls of rain, Coqueville growled in a bad +humor. It was the everlasting story: orders kept coming in while the sea +guarded its fish. And all the village talked of the ship which they had seen +passing in the hurricane, and which must assuredly by that time be sleeping at +the bottom of the water. The next day, Monday, the sky was dark as ever. The +sea, still high, raged without being able to calm itself, although the wind was +blowing less strong. It fell completely, but the waves kept up their furious +motion. In spite of everything, the two boats went out in the afternoon. Toward +four o’clock, the “Zéphir” came in again, having caught +nothing. While the sailors, Tupain and Brisemotte, anchored in the little +harbor, La Queue, exasperated, on the shore, shook his fist at the ocean. And +M. Mouchel was waiting! Margot was there, with the half of Coqueville, watching +the last surgings of the tempest, sharing her father’s rancor against +the sea and the sky. +</p> + +<p> +“But where is the ‘Baleine’?” demanded some one. +</p> + +<p> +“Out there beyond the point,” said La Queue. “If that carcass +comes back whole to-day, it will be by a chance.” +</p> + +<p> +He was full of contempt. Then he informed them that it was good for the Mahés +to risk their skins in that way; when one is not worth a sou, one may perish. +As for him, he preferred to break his word to M. Mouchel. +</p> + +<p> +In the meantime, Margot was examining the point of rocks behind which the +“Baleine” was hidden. +</p> + +<p> +“Father,” she asked at last, “have they caught +something?” +</p> + +<p> +“They?” he cried. “Nothing at all.” +</p> + +<p> +He calmed himself and added more gently, seeing the Emperor, who was sneering +at him: +</p> + +<p> +“I do not know whether they have caught anything, but as they never do +catch anything—” +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps, to-day, all the same, they have taken something,” said +the Emperor ill-naturedly. “Such things have been seen.” La Queue +was about to reply angrily. But the Abbé Radiguet, who came up, calmed him. +From the porch of the church the abbé had happened to observe the +“Baleine”; and the bark seemed to be giving chase to some big fish. +This news greatly interested Coqueville. In the groups reunited on the shore +there were Mahés and Floches, the former praying that the boat might come in +with a miraculous catch, the others making vows that it might come in empty. +</p> + +<p> +Margot, holding herself very straight, did not take her eyes from the sea. +“There they are!” said she simply. +</p> + +<p> +And in fact a black dot showed itself beyond the point. All looked at it. One +would have said a cork dancing on the water. The Emperor did not see even the +black dot. One must be of Coqueville to recognize at that distance the +“Baleine” and those who manned her. +</p> + +<p> +“See!” said Margot, who had the best eyes of the coast, “it +is Fouasse and Rouget who are rowing—The little one is standing up in the +bow.” +</p> + +<p> +She called Delphin “the little one” so as not to mention his name. +And from then on they followed the course of the bark, trying to account for +her strange movements. As the curé said, she appeared to be giving chase to +some great fish that might be fleeing before her. That seemed extraordinary. +The Emperor pretended that their net was without doubt being carried away. But +La Queue cried that they were do-nothings, and that they were just amusing +themselves. Quite certain they were not fishing for seals! All the Floches made +merry over that joke; while the Mahés, vexed, declared that Rouget was a fine +fellow all the same, and that he was risking his skin while others at the least +puff of wind preferred <i>terra firma</i>. The Abbé Radiguet was forced to +interpose again for there were slaps in the air. +</p> + +<p> +“What ails them?” said Margot abruptly. “They are off +again!” They ceased menacing one another, and every eye searched the +horizon, The “Baleine” was once more hidden behind the point. This +time La Queue himself became uneasy. He could not account for such maneuvres. +The fear that Rouget was really in a fair way to catch some fish threw him off +his mental balance. No one left the beach, although there was nothing strange +to be seen. They stayed there nearly two hours, they watched incessantly for +the bark, which appeared from time to time, then disappeared. It finished by +not showing itself at all any more. La Queue, enraged, breathing in his heart +the abominable wish, declared that she must have sunk; and, as just at that +moment Rouget’s wife appeared with Brisemotte, he looked at them both, +sneering, while he patted Tupain on the shoulder to console him already for the +death of his brother, Fouasse. But he stopped laughing when he caught sight of +his daughter Margot, silent and looming, her eyes on the distance; it was quite +possibly for Delphin. +</p> + +<p> +“What are you up to over there?” he scolded. “Be off home +with you! Mind, Margot!” +</p> + +<p> +She did not stir. Then all at once: “Ah! there they are!” +</p> + +<p> +He gave a cry of surprise. Margot, with her good eyes, swore that she no longer +saw a soul in the bark; neither Rouget, nor Fouasse, nor any one! The +“Baleine,” as if abandoned, ran before the wind, tacking about +every minute, rocking herself with a lazy air. +</p> + +<p> +A west wind had fortunately risen and was driving her toward the land, but with +strange caprices which tossed her to right and to left. Then all Coqueville ran +down to the shore. One half shouted to the other half, there remained not a +girl in the houses to look after the soup. It was a catastrophe; something +inexplicable, the strangeness of which completely turned their heads. Marie, +the wife of Rouget, after a moment’s reflection, thought it her duty to +burst into tears. Tupain succeeded in merely carrying an air of affliction. All +the Mahés were in great distress, while the Floches tried to appear +conventional. Margot collapsed as if she had her legs broken. +</p> + +<p> +“What are you up to again!” cried La Queue, who stumbled upon her. +</p> + +<p> +“I am tired,” she answered simply. +</p> + +<p> +And she turned her face toward the sea, her cheeks between her hands, shading +her eyes with the ends of her fingers, gazing fixedly at the bark rocking +itself idly on the waves with the air of a good fellow who has drunk too much. +</p> + +<p> +In the meanwhile suppositions were rife. Perhaps the three men had fallen into +the water? Only, all three at a time, that seemed absurd. +</p> + +<p> +La Queue would have liked well to persuade them that the “Baleine” +had gone to pieces like a rotten egg; but the boat still held the sea; they +shrugged their shoulders. Then, as if the three men had actually perished, he +remembered that he was Mayor and spoke of formalities. +</p> + +<p> +“Leave off!” cried the Emperor, “Does one die in such a silly +way?” “If they had fallen overboard, little Delphin would have been +here by this!” +</p> + +<p> +All Coqueville had to agree, Delphin swam like a herring. But where then could +the three men be? They shouted: “I tell you, yes!”—“I +tell you, no!”—“Too stupid!”—“Stupid +yourself!” And matters came to the point of exchanging blows. The Abbé +Radiguet was obliged to make an appeal for reconciliation, while the Emperor +hustled the crowd about to establish order. Meanwhile, the bark, without haste, +continued to dance before the world. It waltzed, seeming to mock at the people; +the sea carried her in, making her salute the land in long rhythmic reverences. +Surely it was a bark in a crazy fit. Margot, her cheeks between her hands, kept +always gazing. A yawl had just put out of the harbor to go to meet the +“Baleine.” It was Brisemotte, who had exhibited that impatience, as +if he had been delayed in giving certainty to Rouget’s wife. From that +moment all Coqueville interested itself in the yawl. The voices rose higher: +“Well, does he see anything?” +</p> + +<p> +The “Baleine” advanced with her mysterious and mocking air. At last +they saw him draw himself up and look into the bark that he had succeeded in +taking in tow. All held their breath. But, abruptly, he burst out laughing. +That was a surprise; what had he to be amused at? “What is it? What have +you got there?” they shouted to him furiously. +</p> + +<p> +He, without replying, laughed still louder. He made gestures as if to say that +they would see. Then having fastened the “Baleine” to the yawl, he +towed her back. And an unlooked-for spectacle stunned Coqueville. In the bottom +of the bark, the three men—Rouget, Delphin, Fouasse—were +beatifically stretched out on their backs, snoring, with fists clenched, dead +drunk. In their midst was found a little cask stove in, some full cask they had +come across at sea and which they had appreciated. Without doubt, it was very +good, for they had drunk it all save a liter’s worth which had leaked +into the bark and which was mixed with the sea water. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah! the pig!” cried the wife of Rouget, brutally, ceasing to +whimper. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, it’s characteristic—their catch!” said La Queue, +who affected great disgust. +</p> + +<p> +“Forsooth!” replied the Emperor, “they catch what they can! +They have at least caught a cask, while others have not caught anything at +all.” +</p> + +<p> +The Mayor shut up, greatly vexed. Coqueville brayed. They understood now. When +barks are intoxicated, they dance as men do; and that one, in truth, had her +belly full of liquor. Ah, the slut! What a minx! She festooned over the ocean +with the air of a sot who could no longer recognize his home. And Coqueville +laughed, and fumed, the Mahés found it funny, while the Floches found it +disgusting. They surrounded the “Baleine,” they craned their necks, +they strained their eyes to see sleeping there the three jolly dogs who were +exposing the secret springs of their jubilation, oblivious of the crowd hanging +over them. The abuse and the laughter troubled them but little. Rouget did not +hear his wife accuse him of drinking up all they had; Fouasse did not feel the +stealthy kicks with which his brother Tupain rammed his sides. As for Delphin, +he was pretty, after he had drunk, with his blond hair, his rosy face drowned +in bliss. Mar-got had gotten up, and silently, for the present, she +contemplated the little fellow with a hard expression. +</p> + +<p> +“Must put them to bed!” cried a voice. +</p> + +<p> +But just then Delphin opened his eyes. He rolled looks of rapture over the +people. They questioned him on all sides with an eagerness that dazed him +somewhat, the more easily since he was still as drunk as a thrush. +</p> + +<p> +“Well! What?” he stuttered; “it was a little cask—There +is no fish. Therefore, we have caught a little cask.” +</p> + +<p> +He did not get beyond that. To every sentence he added simply: “It was +very good!” +</p> + +<p> +“But what was it in the cask?” they asked him hotly. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah! I don’t know—it was very good.” +</p> + +<p> +By this time Coqueville was burning to know. Every one lowered their noses to +the boat, sniffing vigorously. With one opinion, it smelt of liquor; only no +one could guess what liquor. The Emperor, who flattered himself that he had +drunk of everything that a man can drink, said that he would see. He solemnly +took in the palm of his hand a little of the liquor that was swimming in the +bottom of the bark. The crowd became all at once silent. They waited. But the +Emperor, after sucking up a mouthful, shook his head as if still badly +informed. He sucked twice, more and more embarrassed, with an air of uneasiness +and surprise. And he was bound to confess: +</p> + +<p> +“I do not know—It’s strange—If there was no salt water +in it, I would know, no doubt—My word of honor, it is very +strange!” +</p> + +<p> +They looked at him. They stood struck with awe before that which the Emperor +himself did not venture to pronounce. Coqueville contemplated with respect the +little empty cask. +</p> + +<p> +“It was very good!” once more said Delphin, who seemed to be making +game of the people. Then, indicating the sea with a comprehensive sweep, he +added: “If you want some, there is more there—I saw +them—little casks—little casks—little casks—” +</p> + +<p> +And he rocked himself with the refrain which he kept singing, gazing tenderly +at Margot. He had just caught sight of her. Furious, she made a motion as if to +slap him; but he did not even close his eyes; he awaited the slap with an air +of tenderness. +</p> + +<p> +The Abbé Radiguet, puzzled by that unknown tipple, he, too, dipped his finger +in the bark and sucked it. Like the Emperor, he shook his head: no, he was not +familiar with that, it was very extraordinary. They agreed on but one point: +the cask must have been wreckage from the ship in distress, signaled Sunday +evening. The English ships often carried to Grandport such cargoes of liquor +and fine wines. +</p> + +<p> +Little by little the day faded and the people were withdrawn into shadow. But +La Queue remained absorbed, tormented by an idea which he no longer expressed. +He stopped, he listened a last time to Delphin, whom they were carrying along, +and who was repeating in his sing-song voice: “Little casks—little +casks—little casks—if you want some, there are more!” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"></a> +III</h2> + +<p> +That night the weather changed completely. When Coqueville awoke the following +day an unclouded sun was shining; the sea spread out without a wrinkle, like a +great piece of green satin. And it was warm, one of those pale glows of autumn. +</p> + +<p> +First of the village, La Queue had risen, still clouded from the dreams of the +night. He kept looking for a long time toward the sea, to the right, to the +left. At last, with a sour look, he said that he must in any event satisfy M. +Mouchel. And he went away at once with Tupain and Brisemotte, threatening +Margot to touch up her sides if she did not walk straight. As the +“Zéphir” left the harbor, and as he saw the “Baleine” +swinging heavily at her anchor, he cheered up a little saying: “To-day, I +guess, not a bit of it! Blow out the candle, Jeanetton! those gentlemen have +gone to bed!” +</p> + +<p> +And as soon as the “Zéphir” had reached the open sea, La Queue cast +his nets. After that he went to visit his “jambins.” The jambins +are a kind of elongated eel-pot in which they catch more, especially lobsters +and red garnet. But in spite of the calm sea, he did well to visit his jambins +one by one. All were empty; at the bottom of the last one, as if in mockery, he +found a little mackerel, which he threw back angrily into the sea. It was fate; +there were weeks like that when the fish flouted Coqueville, and always at a +time when M. Mouchel had expressed a particular desire for them. When La Queue +drew in his nets, an hour later, he found nothing but a bunch of seaweed. +Straightway he swore, his fists clenched, raging so much the more for the vast +serenity of the ocean, lazy and sleeping like a sheet of burnished silver under +the blue sky. The “Zéphir,” without a waver, glided along in gentle +ease. La Queue decided to go in again, after having cast his nets once more. In +the afternoon he came to see them, and he menaced God and the saints, cursing +in abominable words. In the meanwhile, Rouget, Fouasse, and Delphin kept on +sleeping. They did not succeed in standing up until the dinner hour. They +recollected nothing, they were conscious only of having been treated to +something extraordinary, something which they did not understand. In the +afternoon, as they were all three down at the harbor, the Emperor tried to +question them concerning the liquor, now that they had recovered their senses. +It was like, perhaps, eau-de-vie with liquorice-juice in it; or rather one +might say rum, sugared and burned. They said “Yes”; they said +“No.” From their replies, the Emperor suspected that it was +ratafia; but he would not have sworn to it. That day Rouget and his men had too +many pains in their sides to go a-fishing. Moreover, they knew that La Queue +had gone out without success that morning, and they talked of waiting until the +next day before visiting their jambins. All three of them, seated on blocks of +stone, watched the tide come in, their backs rounded, their mouths clammy, +half-asleep. +</p> + +<p> +But suddenly Delphin woke up; he jumped on to the stone, his eyes on the +distance, crying: “Look, Boss, off there!” +</p> + +<p> +“What?” asked Rouget, who stretched his limbs. +</p> + +<p> +“A cask.” +</p> + +<p> +Rouget and Fouasse were at once on their feet, their eyes gleaming, sweeping +the horizon. +</p> + +<p> +“Where is it, lad? Where is the cask?” repeated the boss, greatly +moved. +</p> + +<p> +“Off there—to the left—that black spot.” +</p> + +<p> +The others saw nothing. Then Rouget swore an oath. “Nom de Dieu!” +</p> + +<p> +He had just spotted the cask, big as a lentil on the white water in a slanting +ray of the setting sun. And he ran to the “Baleine,” followed by +Delphin and Fouasse, who darted forward tapping their backs with their heels +and making the pebbles roll. +</p> + +<p> +The “Baleine” was just putting out from the harbor when the news +that they saw a cask out at sea was circulated in Coqueville. The children, the +women, began to run. They shouted: “A cask! a cask!” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you see it? The current is driving it toward Grandport.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, yes! on the left—a cask! Come, quick!” +</p> + +<p> +And Coqueville came; tumbled down from its rock; the children arrived head over +heels, while the women picked up their skirts with both hands to descend +quickly. Soon the entire village was on the beach as on the night before. +</p> + +<p> +Margot showed herself for an instant, then she ran back at full speed to the +house, where she wished to forestall her father, who was discussing an official +process with the Emperor. At last La Queue appeared. He was livid; he said to +the <i>garde champêtre</i>: “Hold your peace! It’s Rouget who has +sent you here to beguile me. Well, then, he shall not get it. You’ll +see!” +</p> + +<p> +When he saw the “Baleine,” three hundred metres out, making with +all her oars toward the black dot, rocking in the distance, his fury redoubled. +And he shoved Tupain and Brisemotte into the “Zéphir,” and he +pulled out in turn, repeating: “No, they shall not have it; I’ll +die sooner!” +</p> + +<p> +Then Coqueville had a fine spectacle; a mad race between the +“Zéphir” and the “Baleine.” When the latter saw the +first leave the harbor, she understood the danger, and shot off with all her +speed. She may have been four hundred metres ahead; but the chances remained +even, for the “Zéphir” was otherwise light and swift; so excitement +was at its height on the beach. The Mahès and the Floches had instinctively +formed into two groups, following eagerly the vicissitudes of the struggle, +each upholding its own boat. At first the “Baleine” kept her +advantage, but as soon as the “Zéphir” spread herself, they saw +that she was gaining little by little. The “Baleine” made a supreme +effort and succeeded for a few minutes in holding her distance. Then the +“Zéphir” once more gained upon the “Baleine,” came up +with her at extraordinary speed. From that moment on, it was evident that the +two barks would meet in the neighborhood of the cask. Victory hung on a +circumstance, on the slightest mishap. +</p> + +<p> +“The ‘Baleine’! The ‘baleine’!” cried the +Mahés. +</p> + +<p> +But they soon ceased shouting. When the “Baleine” was almost +touching the cask, the “Zéphir,” by a bold maneuvre, managed to +pass in front of her and throw the cask to the left, where La Queue harpooned +it with a thrust of the boat-hook. +</p> + +<p> +“The ‘Zéphir’! the ‘Zéphir!” screamed the +Floches. +</p> + +<p> +And the Emperor, having spoken of foul play, big words were exchanged. Margot +clapped her hands. The Abbé Radiguet came down with his breviary, made a +profound remark which abruptly calmed the people, and then threw them into +consternation. +</p> + +<p> +“They will, perhaps, drink it all, these, too,” he murmured with a +melancholy air. +</p> + +<p> +At sea, between the “Baleine” and the “Zéphir,” a +violent quarrel broke out. Rouget called La Queue a thief, while the latter +called Rouget a good-for-nothing. The men even took up their oars to beat each +other down, and the adventure lacked little of turning into a naval combat. +More than this, they engaged to meet on land, showing their fists and +threatening to disembowel each other as soon as they found each other again. +</p> + +<p> +“The rascal!” grumbled Rouget. “You know, that cask is bigger +than the one of yesterday. It’s yellow, this one—it ought to be +great.” Then in accents of despair: “Let’s go and see the +jambins; there may very possibly be lobsters in them.” +</p> + +<p> +And the “Baleine” went on heavily to the left, steering toward the +point. +</p> + +<p> +In the “Zëphir,” La Queue had to get in a passion in order to hold +Tupain and Brisemotte from the cask. The boat-hook, in smashing a hoop, had +made a leaking for the red liquid, which the two men tasted from the ends of +their fingers and which they found exquisite. One might easily drink a glass +without its producing much effect. But La Queue would not have it. He caulked +the cask and declared that the first who sucked it should have a talk with him. +On land, they would see. +</p> + +<p> +“Then,” asked Tupain, sullenly, “are we going to draw out the +jambins?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, right away; there is no hurry!” replied La Queue. +</p> + +<p> +He also gazed lovingly at the barrel. He felt his limbs melt with longing to go +in at once and taste it. The fish bored him. +</p> + +<p> +“Bah!” said he at the end of a silence. “Let’s go back, +for it’s late. We will return to-morrow.” And he was relaxing his +fishing when he noticed another cask at his right, this one very small, and +which stood on end, turning on itself like a top. That was the last straw for +the nets and the jambins. No one even spoke of them any longer. The +“Zéphir” gave chase to the little barrel, which was caught very +easily. +</p> + +<p> +During this time a similar adventure overtook the “Baleine.” After +Rouget had already visited five jambins completely empty, Delphin, always on +the watch, cried out that he saw something. But it did not have the appearance +of a cask, it was too long. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s a beam,” said Fouasse. +</p> + +<p> +Rouget let fall his sixth jambin without drawing it out of the water. +“Let’s go and see, all the same,” said he. +</p> + +<p> +As they advanced, they thought they recognized at first a beam, a chest, the +trunk of a tree. Then they gave a cry of joy. +</p> + +<p> +It was a real cask, but a very queer cask, such as they had never seen before. +One would have said a tube, bulging in the middle and closed at the two ends by +a layer of plaster. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, that’s comical!” cried Rouget, in rapture. “This +one I want the Emperor to taste. Come, children, let’s go in.” +</p> + +<p> +They all agreed not to touch it, and the “Baleine” returned to +Coqueville at the same moment as the “Zéphir,” in its turn, +anchored in the little harbor. Not one inquisitive had left the beach. Cries of +joy greeted that unexpected catch of three casks. The <i>gamins</i> hurled +their caps into the air, while the women had at once gone on the run to look +for glasses. It was decided to taste the liquid on the spot. The wreckage +belonged to the village. Not one protest arose. Only they formed into two +groups, the Mahés surrounded Rouget, the Floches would not let go of La Queue. +</p> + +<p> +“Emperor, the first glass for you!” cried Rouget. “Tell us +what it is.” +</p> + +<p> +The liquor was of a beautiful golden yellow. The <i>garde champêtre</i> raised +his glass, looked at it, smelt it, then decided to drink. +</p> + +<p> +“That comes from Holland,” said he, after a long silence. +</p> + +<p> +He did not give any other information. All the Mahés drank with deference. It +was rather thick, and they stood surprised, for it tasted of flowers. The women +found it very good. As for the men, they would have preferred less sugar. +Nevertheless, at the bottom it ended by being strong at the third or fourth +glass. The more they drank, the better they liked it. The men became jolly, the +women grew funny. +</p> + +<p> +But the Emperor, in spite of his recent quarrels with the Mayor, had gone to +hang about the group of Floches. +</p> + +<p> +The biggest cask gave out a dark-red liquor, while they drew from the smallest +a liquid white as water from the rock; and it was this latter that was the +stiff est, a regular pepper, something that skinned the tongue. +</p> + +<p> +Not one of the Floches recognized it, neither the red nor the white. +</p> + +<p> +There were, however, some wags there. It annoyed them to be regaling themselves +without knowing over what. +</p> + +<p> +“I say, Emperor, taste that for me!” said La Queue, thus taking the +first step. +</p> + +<p> +The Emperor, who had been waiting for the invitation, posed once more as +connoisseur. +</p> + +<p> +“As for the red,” he said, “there is orange in that! And for +the white,” he declared, “that—that is excellent!” +</p> + +<p> +They had to content themselves with these replies, for he shook his head with a +knowing air, with the happy look of a man who has given satisfaction to the +world. +</p> + +<p> +The Abbé Radiguet, alone, did not seem convinced. As for him, he had the names +on the tip of his tongue; and to thoroughly reassure himself, he drank small +glasses, one after the other, repeating: “Wait, wait, I know what it is. +In a moment I will tell you.” +</p> + +<p> +In the mean while, little by little, merriment grew in the group of the Mahés +and the group of the Floches. The latter, particularly, laughed very loud +because they had mixed the liquors, a thing that excited them the more. For the +rest, the one and the other of the groups kept apart. They did not offer each +other of their casks, they simply cast sympathetic glances, seized with the +unavowed desire to taste their neighbor’s liquor, which might possibly be +better. The inimical brothers, Tupain and Fouasse, were in close proximity all +the evening without showing their fists. It was remarked, also, that Rouget and +his wife drank from the same glass. As for Margot, she distributed the liquor +among the Floches, and as she filled the glasses too full, and the liquor ran +over her fingers, she kept sucking them continually, so well that, though +obeying her father who forbade her to drink, she became as fuddled as a girl in +vintage time. It was not unbecoming to her; on the contrary, she got rosy all +over, her eyes were like candles. +</p> + +<p> +The sun set, the evening was like the softness of springtime. Coqueville had +finished the casks and did not dream of going home to dine. They found +themselves too comfortable on the beach. When it was pitch night, Margot, +sitting apart, felt some one blowing on her neck. It was Delphin, very gay, +walking on all fours, prowling behind her like a wolf. She repressed a cry so +as not to awaken her father, who would have sent Delphin a kick in the back. +</p> + +<p> +“Go away, imbecile!” she murmured, half angry, half laughing; +“you will get yourself caught!” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004"></a> +IV</h2> + +<p> +The following day Coqueville, in rising, found the sun already high above the +horizon. The air was softer still, a drowsy sea under a clear sky, one of those +times of laziness when it is so good to do nothing. It was a Wednesday. Until +breakfast time, Coqueville rested from the fête of the previous evening. Then +they went down to the beach to see. +</p> + +<p> +That Wednesday the fish, the Widow Dufeu, M. Mouchel, all were forgotten. La +Queue and Rouget did not even speak of visiting their jambins. Toward three +o’clock they sighted some casks. Four of them were dancing before the +village. The “Zéphir” and the “Baleine” went in chase; +but as there was enough for all, they disputed no longer. Each boat had its +share. At six o’clock, after having swept all over the little gulf, +Rouget and La Queue came in, each with three casks. And the fête began again. +The women had brought down tables for convenience. They had brought benches as +well; they set up two cafés in the open air, such as they had at Grandport. The +Mahés were on the left; the Floches on the right, still separated by a bar of +sand. Nevertheless, that evening the Emperor, who went from one group to the +other, carried his glasses full, so at to give every one a taste of the six +casks. At about nine o’clock they were much gayer than the night before. +</p> + +<p> +The next day Coqueville could never remember how it had gone to bed. +</p> + +<p> +Thursday the “Zéphir” and the “Baleine” caught but four +casks, two each, but they were enormous. Friday the fishing was superb, +undreamed of; there were seven casks, three for Rouget and four for La Queue. +Coqueville was entering upon a golden age. They never did anything any more. +The fishermen, working off the alcohol of the night before, slept till noon. +Then they strolled down to the beach and interrogated the sea. Their sole +anxiety was to know what liquor the sea was going to bring them. They waited +there for hours, their eyes strained; they raised shouts of joy when wreckage +appeared. +</p> + +<p> +The women and the children, from the tops of the rocks, pointed with sweeping +gestures even to the least bunch of seaweed rolled in by the waves. And, at all +hours, the “Zéphir” and the “Baleine” stood ready to +leave. They put out, they beat the gulf, they fished for casks, as they had +fished for tun; disdaining now the tame mackerel who capered about in the sun, +and the lazy sole rocked on the foam of the water. Coqueville watched the +fishing, dying of laughter on the sands. Then in the evening they drank the +catch. +</p> + +<p> +That which enraptured Coqueville was that the casks did not cease. When there +were no more, there were still more! The ship that had been lost must truly +have had a pretty cargo aboard; and Coqueville became egoist and merry, joked +over the wrecked ship, a regular wine-cellar, enough to intoxicate all the fish +of the ocean. Added to that, never did they catch two casks alike; they were of +all shapes, of all sizes, of all colors. Then, in every cask there was a +different liquor. So the Emperor was plunged into profound reveries; he who had +drunk everything, he could identify nothing any more. La Queue declared that +never had he seen such a cargo. The Abbé Radiguet guessed it was an order from +some savage king, wishing to set up his wine-cellar. Coqueville, rocked in +mysterious intoxication, no longer tried to understand. +</p> + +<p> +The ladies preferred the “creams”; they had cream of moka, of +cacao, of mint, of vanilla. Marie Rouget drank one night so much anisette that +she was sick. +</p> + +<p> +Margot and the other young ladies tapped the curaçao, the bénédictine, the +trappistine, the chartreuse. As to the cassis, it was reserved for the little +children. Naturally the men rejoiced more when they caught cognacs, rums, gins, +everything that burned the mouth. Then surprises produced themselves. A cask of +<i>raki</i> of Chio, flavored with mastic, stupefied Coqueville, which thought +that it had fallen on a cask of essence of turpentine. All the same they drank +it, for they must lose nothing; but they talked about it for a long time. +Arrack from Batavia, Swedish eau-de-vie with cumin, tuica calugaresca from +Rumania, slivowitz from Servia, all equally overturned every idea that +Coqueville had of what one should endure. At heart they had a weakness for +kümmel and kirschwasser, for liqueurs as pale as water and stiff enough to kill +a man. +</p> + +<p> +Heavens! was it possible so many good things had been invented! At Coqueville +they had known nothing but eau-de-vie; and, moreover, not every one at that. So +their imaginations finished in exultation; they arrived at a state of veritable +worship, in face of that inexhaustible variety, for that which intoxicates. Oh! +to get drunk every night on something new, on something one does not even know +the name of! It seemed like a fairy-tale, a rain, a fountain, that would spout +extraordinary liquids, all the distilled alcohols, perfumed with all the +flowers and all the fruits of creation. +</p> + +<p> +So then, Friday evening, there were seven casks on the beach! Coqueville did +not leave the beach. They lived there, thanks to the mildness of the season. +Never in September had they enjoyed so fine a week. The fête had lasted since +Monday, and there was no reason why it should not last forever if Providence +should continue to send them casks; for the Abbé Radiguet saw therein the hand +of Providence. All business was suspended; what use drudging when pleasure came +to them in their sleep? They were all bourgeois, bourgeois who were drinking +expensive liquors without having to pay anything at the café. With hands in +pocket, Coqueville basked in the sunshine waiting for the evening’s +spree. Moreover, it did not sober up; it enjoyed side by side the gaieties of +kümmel, of kirsch-wasser, of ratafia; in seven days they knew the wraths of +gin, the tendernesses of curaçao, the laughter of cognac. And Coqueville +remained as innocent as a new-born child, knowing nothing about anything, +drinking with conviction that which the good Lord sent them. +</p> + +<p> +It was on Friday that the Mahés and the Floches fraternized. They were very +jolly that evening. Already, the evening before, distances had drawn nearer, +the most intoxicated had trodden down the bar of sand which separated the two +groups. There remained but one step to take. On the side of the Floches the +four casks were emptying, while the Mahés were equally finishing their three +little barrels; just three liqueurs which made the French flag; one blue, one +white, and one red. The blue filled the Floches with jealousy, because a blue +liqueur seemed to them something really supernatural. La Queue, grown +good-natured since he had been drunk, advanced, a glass in his hand, feeling +that he ought to take the first step as magistrate. +</p> + +<p> +“See here, Rouget,” he stuttered, “will you drink with +me?” +</p> + +<p> +“Willingly,” replied Rouget, who was staggering under a feeling of +tenderness. +</p> + +<p> +And they fell upon each other’s necks. Then they all wept, so great was +their emotion. The Mahés and the Floches embraced, they who had been devouring +one another for three centuries. The Abbé Radiguet, greatly touched, again +spoke of the finger of God. They drank to each other in the three liqueurs, the +blue, the white, and the red. +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Vive la France!</i>” cried the Emperor. +</p> + +<p> +The blue was worthless, the white of not much account, but the red was really a +success. Then they tapped the casks of the Floches. Then they danced. As there +was no band, some good-natured boys clapped their hands, whistling, which +excited the girls. The fête became superb. The seven casks were placed in a +row; each could choose that which he liked best. Those who had had enough +stretched themselves out on the sands, where they slept for a while; and when +they awoke they began again. Little by little the others spread the fun until +they took up the whole beach. Right up to midnight they skipped in the open +air. The sea had a soft sound, the stars shone in a deep sky, a sky of vast +peace. It was the serenity of the infant ages enveloping the joy of a tribe of +savages, intoxicated by their first cask of eau-de-vie. +</p> + +<p> +Nevertheless, Coqueville went home to bed again. When there was nothing more +left to drink, the Floches and the Mahés helped one another, carried one +another, and ended by finding their beds again one way or another. On Saturday +the fête lasted until nearly two o’clock in the morning. They had caught +six casks, two of them enormous. Fouasse and Tupain almost fought. Tupain, who +was wicked when drunk, talked of finishing his brother. But that quarrel +disgusted every one, the Floches as well as the Mahés. Was it reasonable to +keep on quarreling when the whole village was embracing? They forced the two +brothers to drink together. They were sulky. The Emperor promised to watch +them. Neither did the Rouget household get on well. When Marie had taken +anisette she was prodigal in her attentions to Brisemotte, which Rouget could +not behold with a calm eye, especially since having become sensitive, he also +wished to be loved. The Abbé Radiguet, full of forbearance, did well in +preaching forgiveness; they feared an accident. “Bah!” said La +Queue; “all will arrange itself. If the fishing is good to-morrow, you +will see—Your health!” +</p> + +<p> +However, La Queue himself was not yet perfect. He still kept his eye on Delphin +and leveled kicks at him whenever he saw him approach Margot. The Emperor was +indignant, for there was no common sense in preventing two young people from +laughing. But La Queue always swore to kill his daughter sooner than give her +to “the little one.” Moreover, Margot would not be willing. +</p> + +<p> +“Isn’t it so? You are too proud,” he cried. “Never +would you marry a ragamuffin!” +</p> + +<p> +“Never, papa!” answered Margot. +</p> + +<p> +Saturday, Margot drank a great deal of sugary liqueur. No one had any idea of +such sugar. As she was no longer on her guard, she soon found herself sitting +close to the cask. She laughed, happy, in paradise; she saw stars, and it +seemed to her that there was music within her, playing dance tunes. Then it was +that Delphin slipped into the shadow of the casks. He took her hand; he asked: +“Say, Margot, will you?” +</p> + +<p> +She kept on smiling. Then she replied: “It is papa who will not.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! that’s nothing,” said the little one; “you know +the old ones never will—provided you are willing, you.” And he grew +bold, he planted a kiss on her neck. She bridled; shivers ran along her +shoulders. “Stop! You tickle me.” +</p> + +<p> +But she talked no more of giving him a slap. In the first place, she was not +able to, for her hands were too weak. Then it seemed nice to her, those little +kisses on the neck. It was like the liqueur that enervated her so deliciously. +She ended by turning her head and extending her chin, just like a cat. +</p> + +<p> +“There!” she stammered, “there under the ear—that +tickles me. Oh! that is nice!” +</p> + +<p> +They had both forgotten La Queue. Fortunately the Emperor was on guard. He +pointed them out to the Abbé. +</p> + +<p> +“Look there, Curé—it would be better to marry them.” +</p> + +<p> +“Morals would gain thereby,” declared the priest sententiously. +</p> + +<p> +And he charged himself with the matter for the morrow. ‘Twas he himself +that would speak to La Queue. Meanwhile La Queue had drunk so much that the +Emperor and the Curé were forced to carry him home. On the way they tried to +reason with him on the subject of his daughter; but they could draw from him +nothing but growls. Behind them, in the untroubled night, Delphin led Margot +home. +</p> + +<p> +The next day by four o’clock the “Zéphir” and the +“Baleine” had already caught seven casks. At six o’clock the +“Zéphir” caught two more. That made nine. +</p> + +<p> +Then Coqueville feted Sunday. It was the seventh day that it had been drunk. +And the fête was complete—a fête such as no one had ever seen, and which +no one will ever see again. Speak of it in Lower Normandy, and they will tell +you with laughter, “Ah! yes, the fête at Coqueville!” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0005" id="link2H_4_0005"></a> +V</h2> + +<p> +In the mean while, since the Tuesday, M. Mouchel had been surprised at not +seeing either Rouget or La Queue arrive at Grandport. What the devil could +those fellows be doing? The sea was fine, the fishing ought to be splendid. +Very possibly they wished to bring a whole load of soles and lobsters in all at +once. And he was patient until the Wednesday. +</p> + +<p> +Wednesday, M. Mouchel was angry. You must know that the Widow Dufeu was not a +commodious person. She was a woman who in a flash came to high words. Although +he was a handsome fellow, blond and powerful, he trembled before her, +especially since he had dreams of marrying her, always with little attentions, +free to subdue her with a slap if he ever became her master. Well, that +Wednesday morning the Widow Dufeu stormed, complaining that the bundles were no +longer forwarded, that the sea failed; and she accused him of running after the +girls of the coast instead of busying himself with the whiting and the mackerel +which ought to be yielding in abundance. M. Mouchel, vexed, fell back on +Coqueville’s singular breach of honor. For a moment surprise calmed the +Widow Dufeu. What was Coqueville dreaming about? Never had it so conducted +itself before. But she declared immediately that she had nothing to do with +Coqueville; that it was M. Mouchel’s business to look into matters, that +she should take a partner if he allowed himself to be played with again by the +fishermen. In a word, much disquieted, he sent Rouget and La Queue to the +devil. Perhaps, after all, they would come tomorrow. +</p> + +<p> +The next day, Thursday, neither the one nor the other appeared. Toward evening, +M. Mouchel, desperate, climbed the rock to the left of Grandport, from which +one could see in the distance Coqueville, with its yellow spot of beach. He +gazed at it a long time. The village had a tranquil look in the sun, light +smoke was rising from the chimneys; no doubt the women were preparing the soup. +M. Mouchel was satisfied that Coqueville was still in its place, that a rock +from the cliff had not crushed it, and he understood less and less. As he was +about to descend again, he thought he could make out two black points on the +gulf; the “Baleine” and the “Zëphir.” After that he +went back to calm the Widow Dufeu. Coqueville was fishing. The night passed. +Friday was here. Still nothing of Coqueville. M. Mouchel climbed to his rock +more than ten times. He was beginning to lose his head; the Widow Dufeu behaved +abominably to him, without his finding anything to reply. Coqueville was always +there, in the sun, warming itself like a lazy lizard. Only, M. Mouchel saw no +more smoke. The village seemed dead. Had they all died in their holes? On the +beach, there was quite a movement, but that might be seaweed rocked by the +tide. Saturday, still no one. The Widow Dufeu scolded no more; her eyes were +fixed, her lips white. M. Mouchel passed two hours on the rock. A curiosity +grew in him, a purely personal need of accounting to himself for the strange +immobility of the village. The old walls sleeping beatifically in the sun ended +by worrying him. His resolution was taken; he would set out that Monday very +early in the morning and try to get down there near nine o’clock. +</p> + +<p> +It was not a promenade to go to Coqueville. M. Mouchel preferred to follow the +route by land, in that way he would come upon the village without their +expecting him. A wagon carried him as far as Robineux, where he left it under a +shed, for it would not have been prudent to risk it in the middle of the gorge. +And he set off bravely, having to make nearly seven kilometers over the most +abominable of roads. The route was otherwise of a wild beauty; it descended by +continual turns between two enormous ledges of rock, so narrow in places that +three men could not walk abreast. Farther on it skirted the precipices; the +gorge opened abruptly; and one caught glimpses of the sea, of immense blue +horizons. But M. Mouchel was not in a state of mind to admire the landscape. He +swore as the pebbles rolled under his feet. It was the fault of Coqueville, he +promised to shake up those do-nothings well. But, in the meantime, he was +approaching. All at once, in the turning at the last rock, he saw the twenty +houses of the village hanging to the flank of the cliff. +</p> + +<p> +Nine o’clock struck. One would have believed it June, so blue and warm +was the sky; a superb season, limpid air, gilded by the dust of the sun, +refreshed by the good smell of the sea. M. Mouchel entered the only street of +the village, where he came very often; and as he passed before Rouget’s +house, he went in. The house was empty. Then he cast his eye toward +Fouasse’s—Tupain’s—Brisemotte’s. Not a soul; all +the doors open, and no one in the rooms. What did it mean? A light chill began +to creep over his flesh. Then he thought of the authorities. Certainly, the +Emperor would reassure him. But the Emperor’s house was empty like the +others. Even to the <i>garde champêtre</i>, there was failure! That village, +silent and deserted, terrified him now. He ran to the Mayor’s. There +another surprise awaited him: the house was found in an abominable mess; they +had not made the beds in three days; dirty dishes littered the place; chairs +seemed to indicate a fight. His mind upset, dreaming of cataclysms, M. Mouchel +determined to go on to the end, and he entered the church. No more curé than +mayor. All the authorities, even religion itself had vanished. Coqueville +abandoned, slept without a breath, without a dog, without a cat. Not even a +fowl; the hens had taken themselves off. Nothing, a void, silence, a leaden +sleep under the great blue sky. +</p> + +<p> +Parbleu! It was no wonder that Coqueville brought no more fish! Coqueville had +moved away. Coqueville was dead. He must notify the police. The mysterious +catastrophe exalted M. Mouchel, when, with the idea of descending to the beach, +he uttered a cry. In the midst of the sands, the whole population lay +stretched. He thought of a general massacre. But the sonorous snores came to +undeceive him. During the night of Sunday, Coqueville had feasted so late that +it had found itself in absolute inability to go home to bed. So it had slept on +the sand, just where it had fallen, around the nine casks, completely empty. +</p> + +<p> +Yes, all Coqueville was snoring there; I hear the children, the women, the old +people, and the men. Not one was on his feet. There were some on their +stomachs, there were some on their backs; others held themselves <i>en chien de +fusils</i> {3} As one makes his bed so must one lie on it. And the fellows +found themselves, happen what may, scattered in their drunkenness like a +handful of leaves driven by the wind. The men had rolled over, heads lower than +heels. It was a scene full of good-fellowship; a dormitory in the open air; +honest family folk taking their ease; for where there is care, there is no +pleasure. +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> + +3 Primed for the event +</p> + +<p> +It was just at the new moon. Coqueville, thinking it had blown out its candle, +had abandoned itself to the darkness. Then the day dawned; and now the sun was +flaming, a sun which fell perpendicularly on the sleepers, powerless to make +them open their eyelids. They slept rudely, all their faces beaming with the +fine innocence of drunkards. The hens at early morning must have strayed down +to peck at the casks, for they were drunk; they, too, sleeping on the sands. +There were also five cats and five dogs, their paws in the air, drunk from +licking the glasses glistening with sugar. +</p> + +<p> +For a moment M. Mouchel walked about among the sleepers, taking care not to +step on any of them. He understood, for at Grandport they, too, had received +casks from the wreck of the English ship. All his wrath left him. What a +touching and moral spectacle! Coqueville reconciled, the Mahés and the Floches +sleeping together! With the last glass the deadliest enemies had embraced. +Tupain and Fouasse lay there snoring, hand in hand, like brothers, incapable of +coming to dispute a legacy. As to the Rouget household, it offered a still more +amiable picture, Marie slept between Rouget and Brisemotte, as much as to say +that henceforth they were to live thus, happy, all the three. +</p> + +<p> +But one group especially exhibited a scene of family tenderness. It was Delphin +and Margot; one on the neck of the other, they slept cheek to cheek, their lips +still opened for a kiss. At their feet the Emperor, sleeping crosswise, guarded +them. Above them La Queue snored like a father satisfied at having settled his +daughter, while the Abbé Radiguet, fallen there like the others, with arms +outspread, seemed to bless them. In her sleep Margot still extended her rosy +muzzle like an amorous cat who loves to have one scratch her under the chin. +</p> + +<p> +The fête ended with a marriage. And M. Mouchel himself later married the Widow +Dufeu, whom he beat to a jelly. Speak of that in Lower Normandy, they will tell +you with a laugh, “Ah! yes, the fête at Coqueville!” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FÊTE AT COQUEVILLE ***</div> +<div style='text-align:left'> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will +be renamed. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United +States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part +of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project +Gutenberg™ electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG™ +concept and trademark. 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