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It was so +cold that the fine snow, flying through the air, hardened as it fell, +covering the pavements with a slippery, white blanket. + +Risler, wrapped in his cloak, was hastening home from the brewery through +the deserted streets of the Marais. He had been celebrating, in company +with his two faithful borrowers, Chebe and Delobelle, his first moment of +leisure, the end of that almost endless period of seclusion during which +he had been superintending the manufacture of his press, with all the +searchings, the joys, and the disappointments of the inventor. It had +been long, very long. At the last moment he had discovered a defect. +The crane did not work well; and he had had to revise his plans and +drawings. At last, on that very day, the new machine had been tried. +Everything had succeeded to his heart's desire. The worthy man was +triumphant. It seemed to him that he had paid a debt, by giving the +house of Fromont the benefit of a new machine, which would lessen the +labor, shorten the hours of the workmen, and at the same time double +the profits and the reputation of the factory. He indulged in beautiful +dreams as he plodded along. His footsteps rang out proudly, emphasized +by the resolute and happy trend of his thoughts. + +Quickening his pace, he reached the corner of Rue des Vieilles- +Haudriettes. A long line of carriages was standing in front of the +factory, and the light of their lanterns in the street, the shadows of +the drivers seeking shelter from the snow in the corners and angles that +those old buildings have retained despite the straightening of the +sidewalks, gave an animated aspect to that deserted, silent quarter. + +"Yes, yes! to be sure," thought the honest fellow, "we have a ball at +our house." He remembered that Sidonie was giving a grand musical and +dancing party, which she had excused him from attending, by the way, +knowing that he was very busy. + +Shadows passed and repassed behind the fluttering veil of the curtains; +the orchestra seemed to follow the movements of those stealthy +apparitions with the rising and falling of its muffled notes. The guests +were dancing. Risler let his eyes rest for a moment on that +phantasmagoria of the ball, and fancied that he recognized Sidonie's +shadow in a small room adjoining the salon. + +She was standing erect in her magnificent costume, in the attitude of a +pretty woman before her mirror. A shorter shadow behind her, Madame +Dobson doubtless, was repairing some accident to the costume, retieing +the knot of a ribbon tied about her neck, its long ends floating down to +the flounces of the train. It was all very indistinct, but the woman's +graceful figure was recognizable in those faintly traced outlines, and +Risler tarried long admiring her. + +The contrast on the first floor was most striking. There was no light +visible, with the exception of a little lamp shining through the lilac +hangings of the bedroom. Risler noticed that circumstance, and as the +little girl had been ailing a few days before, he felt anxious about her, +remembering Madame Georges's strange agitation when she passed him so +hurriedly in the afternoon; and he retraced his steps as far as Pere +Achille's lodge to inquire. + +The lodge was full. Coachmen were warming themselves around the stove, +chatting and laughing amid the smoke from their pipes. When Risler +appeared there was profound silence, a cunning, inquisitive, significant +silence. They had evidently been speaking of him. + +"Is the Fromont child still sick?" he asked. + +"No, not the child, Monsieur." + +"Monsieur Georges sick?" + +"Yes, he was taken when he came home to-night. I went right off to get +the doctor. He said that it wouldn't amount to anything--that all +Monsieur needed was rest." + +As Risler closed the door Pere Achille added, under his breath, with the +half-fearful, half-audacious insolence of an inferior, who would like to +be listened to and yet not distinctly heard: + +"Ah! 'dame', they're not making such a show on the first floor as they +are on the second." + +This is what had happened. + +Fromont jeune, on returning home during the evening, had found his wife +with such a changed, heartbroken face, that he at once divined a +catastrophe. But he had become so accustomed in the past two years to +sin with impunity that it did not for one moment occur to him that his +wife could have been informed of his conduct. Claire, for her part, to +avoid humiliating him, was generous enough to speak only of Savigny. + +"Grandpapa refused," she said. + +The miserable man turned frightfully pale. + +"I am lost--I am lost!" he muttered two or three times in the wild +accents of fever; and his sleepless nights, a last terrible scene which +he had had with Sidonie, trying to induce her not to give this party on +the eve of his downfall, M. Gardinois' refusal, all these maddening +things which followed so closely on one another's heels and had agitated +him terribly, culminated in a genuine nervous attack. Claire took pity +on him, put him to bed, and established herself by his side; but her +voice had lost that affectionate intonation which soothes and persuades. +There was in her gestures, in the way in which she arranged the pillow +under the patient's head and prepared a quieting draught, a strange +indifference, listlessness. + +"But I have ruined you!" Georges said from time to time, as if to rouse +her from that apathy which made him uncomfortable. She replied with a +proud, disdainful gesture. Ah! if he had done only that to her! + +At last, however, his nerves became calmer, the fever subsided, and he +fell asleep. + +She remained to attend to his wants. + +"It is my duty," she said to herself. + +Her duty. She had reached that point with the man whom she had adored so +blindly, with the hope of a long and happy life together. + +At that moment the ball in Sidonie's apartments began to become very +animated. The ceiling trembled rhythmically, for Madame had had all the +carpets removed from her salons for the greater comfort of the dancers. +Sometimes, too, the sound of voices reached Claire's ears in waves, and +frequent tumultuous applause, from which one could divine the great +number of the guests, the crowded condition of the rooms. + +Claire was lost in thought. She did not waste time in regrets, in +fruitless lamentations. She knew that life was inflexible and that all +the arguments in the world will not arrest the cruel logic of its +inevitable progress. She did not ask herself how that man had succeeded +in deceiving her so long--how he could have sacrificed the honor and +happiness of his family for a mere caprice. That was the fact, and all +her reflections could not wipe it out, could not repair the irreparable. +The subject that engrossed her thoughts was the future. A new existence +was unfolding before her eyes, dark, cruel, full of privation and toil; +and, strangely enough, the prospect of ruin, instead of terrifying her, +restored all her courage. The idea of the change of abode made necessary +by the economy they would be obliged to practise, of work made compulsory +for Georges and perhaps for herself, infused an indefinable energy into +the distressing calmness of her despair. What a heavy burden of souls +she would have with her three children: her mother, her child, and her +husband! The feeling of responsibility prevented her giving way too much +to her misfortune, to the wreck of her love; and in proportion as she +forgot herself in the thought of the weak creatures she had to protect +she realized more fully the meaning of the word "sacrifice," so vague on +careless lips, so serious when it becomes a rule of life. + +Such were the poor woman's thoughts during that sad vigil, a vigil of +arms and tears, while she was preparing her forces for the great battle. +Such was the scene lighted by the modest little lamp which Risler had +seen from below, like a star fallen from the radiant chandeliers of the +ballroom. + +Reassured by Pere Achille's reply, the honest fellow thought of going up +to his bedroom, avoiding the festivities and the guests, for whom he +cared little. + +On such occasions he used a small servants' staircase communicating with +the counting-room. So he walked through the many-windowed workshops, +which the moon, reflected by the snow, made as light as at noonday. He +breathed the atmosphere of the day of toil, a hot, stifling atmosphere, +heavy with the odor of boiled talc and varnish. The papers spread out on +the dryers formed long, rustling paths. On all sides tools were lying +about, and blouses hanging here and there ready for the morrow. Risler +never walked through the shops without a feeling of pleasure. + +Suddenly he spied a light in Planus's office, at the end of that long +line of deserted rooms. The old cashier was still at work, at one +o'clock in the morning! That was really most extraordinary. + +Risler's first impulse was to retrace his steps. In fact, since his +unaccountable falling-out with Sigismond, since the cashier had adopted +that attitude of cold silence toward him, he had avoided meeting him. +His wounded friendship had always led him to shun an explanation; he had +a sort of pride in not asking Planus why he bore him ill-will. But, on +that evening, Risler felt so strongly the need of cordial sympathy, of +pouring out his heart to some one, and then it was such an excellent +opportunity for a tete-a-tete with his former friend, that he did not try +to avoid him but boldly entered the counting-room. + +The cashier was sitting there, motionless, among heaps of papers and +great books, which he had been turning over, some of which had fallen to +the floor. At the sound of his employer's footsteps he did not even lift +his eyes. He had recognized Risler's step. The latter, somewhat +abashed, hesitated a moment; then, impelled by one of those secret +springs which we have within us and which guide us, despite ourselves, in +the path of our destiny, he walked straight to the cashier's grating. + +"Sigismond," he said in a grave voice. + +The old man raised his head and displayed a shrunken face down which two +great tears were rolling, the first perhaps that that animate column of +figures had ever shed in his life. + +"You are weeping, old man? What troubles you?" + +And honest Risler, deeply touched, held out his hand to his friend, who +hastily withdrew his. That movement of repulsion was so instinctive, so +brutal, that all Risler's emotion changed to indignation. + +He drew himself up with stern dignity. + +"I offer you my hand, Sigismond Planus!" he said. + +"And I refuse to take it," said Planus, rising. + +There was a terrible pause, during which they heard the muffled music of +the orchestra upstairs and the noise of the ball, the dull, wearing noise +of floors shaken by the rhythmic movement of the dance. + +"Why do you refuse to take my hand?" demanded Risler simply, while the +grating upon which he leaned trembled with a metallic quiver. + +Sigismond was facing him, with both hands on his desk, as if to emphasize +and drive home what he was about to say in reply. + +"Why? Because you have ruined the house; because in a few hours a +messenger from the Bank will come and stand where you are, to collect a +hundred thousand francs; and because, thanks to you, I haven't a sou in +the cash-box--that's the reason why!" + +Risler was stupefied. + +"I have ruined the house--I?" + +"Worse than that, Monsieur. You have allowed it to be ruined by your +wife, and you have arranged with her to benefit by our ruin and your +dishonor. Oh! I can see your game well enough. The money your wife has +wormed out of the wretched Fromont, the house at Asnieres, the diamonds +and all the rest is invested in her name, of course, out of reach of +disaster; and of course you can retire from business now." + +"Oh--oh!" exclaimed Risler in a faint voice, a restrained voice rather, +that was insufficient for the multitude of thoughts it strove to express; +and as he stammered helplessly he drew the grating toward him with such +force that he broke off a piece of it. Then he staggered, fell to the +floor, and lay there motionless, speechless, retaining only, in what +little life was still left in him, the firm determination not to die +until he had justified himself. That determination must have been very +powerful; for while his temples throbbed madly, hammered by the blood +that turned his face purple, while his ears were ringing and his glazed +eyes seemed already turned toward the terrible unknown, the unhappy man +muttered to himself in a thick voice, like the voice of a shipwrecked man +speaking with his mouth full of water in a howling gale: "I must live! +I must live!" + +When he recovered consciousness, he was sitting on the cushioned bench on +which the workmen sat huddled together on pay-day, his cloak on the +floor, his cravat untied, his shirt open at the neck, cut by Sigismond's +knife. Luckily for him, he had cut his hands when he tore the grating +apart; the blood had flowed freely, and that accident was enough to avert +an attack of apoplexy. On opening his eyes, he saw on either side old +Sigismond and Madame Georges, whom the cashier had summoned in his +distress. As soon as Risler could speak, he said to her in a choking +voice: + +"Is this true, Madame Chorche--is this true that he just told me?" + +She had not the courage to deceive him, so she turned her eyes away. + +"So," continued the poor fellow, "so the house is ruined, and I--" + +"No, Risler, my friend. No, not you." + +"My wife, was it not? Oh! it is horrible! This is how I have paid my +debt of gratitude to you. But you, Madame Chorche, you could not have +believed that I was a party to this infamy?" + +"No, my friend, no; be calm. I know that you are the most honorable man +on earth." + +He looked at her a moment, with trembling lips and clasped hands, for +there was something child-like in all the manifestations of that artless +nature. + +"Oh! Madame Chorche, Madame Chorche," he murmured. "When I think that I +am the one who has ruined you." + +In the terrible blow which overwhelmed him, and by which his heart, +overflowing with love for Sidonie, was most deeply wounded, he refused to +see anything but the financial disaster to the house of Fromont, caused +by his blind devotion to his wife. Suddenly he stood erect. + +"Come," he said, "let us not give way to emotion. We must see about +settling our accounts." + +Madame Fromont was frightened. + +"Risler, Risler--where are you going?" + +She thought that he was going up to Georges' room. + +Risler understood her and smiled in superb disdain. + +"Never fear, Madame. Monsieur Georges can sleep in peace. I have +something more urgent to do than avenge my honor as a husband. Wait for +me here. I will come back." + +He darted toward the narrow staircase; and Claire, relying upon his word, +remained with Planus during one of those supreme moments of uncertainty +which seem interminable because of all the conjectures with which they +are thronged. + +A few moments later the sound of hurried steps, the rustling of silk +filled the dark and narrow staircase. Sidonie appeared first, in ball +costume, gorgeously arrayed and so pale that the jewels that glistened +everywhere on her dead-white flesh seemed more alive than she, as if they +were scattered over the cold marble of a statue. The breathlessness due +to dancing, the trembling of intense excitement and her rapid descent, +caused her to shake from head to foot, and her floating ribbons, her +ruffles, her flowers, her rich and fashionable attire drooped tragically +about her. Risler followed her, laden with jewel-cases, caskets, and +papers. Upon reaching his apartments he had pounced upon his wife's +desk, seized everything valuable that it contained, jewels, certificates, +title-deeds of the house at Asnieres; then, standing in the doorway, he +had shouted into the ballroom: + +"Madame Risler!" + +She had run quickly to him, and that brief scene had in no wise disturbed +the guests, then at the height of the evening's enjoyment. When she saw +her husband standing in front of the desk, the drawers broken open and +overturned on the carpet with the multitude of trifles they contained, +she realized that something terrible was taking place. + +"Come at once," said Risler; "I know all." + +She tried to assume an innocent, dignified attitude; but he seized her by +the arm with such force that Frantz's words came to her mind: "It will +kill him perhaps, but he will kill you first." As she was afraid of +death, she allowed herself to be led away without resistance, and had not +even the strength to lie. + +"Where are we going?" she asked, in a low voice. + +Risler did not answer. She had only time to throw over her shoulders, +with the care for herself that never failed her, a light tulle veil, and +he dragged her, pushed her, rather, down the stairs leading to the +counting-room, which he descended at the same time, his steps close upon +hers, fearing that his prey would escape. + +"There!" he said, as he entered the room. "We have stolen, we make +restitution. Look, Planus, you can raise money with all this stuff." +And he placed on the cashier's desk all the fashionable plunder with +which his arms were filled--feminine trinkets, trivial aids to coquetry, +stamped papers. + +Then he turned to his wife: + +"Take off your jewels! Come, be quick." + +She complied slowly, opened reluctantly the clasps of bracelets and +buckles, and above all the superb fastening of her diamond necklace on +which the initial of her name-a gleaming S-resembled a sleeping serpent, +imprisoned in a circle of gold. Risler, thinking that she was too slow, +ruthlessly broke, the fragile fastenings. Luxury shrieked beneath his +fingers, as if it were being whipped. + +"Now it is my turn," he said; "I too must give up everything. Here is my +portfolio. What else have I? What else have I?" + +He searched his pockets feverishly. + +"Ah! my watch. With the chain it will bring four-thousand francs. My +rings, my wedding-ring. Everything goes into the cash-box, everything. +We have a hundred thousand francs to pay this morning. As soon as it is +daylight we must go to work, sell out and pay our debts. I know some one +who wants the house at Asnieres. That can be settled at once." + +He alone spoke and acted. Sigismond and Madame Georges watched him +without speaking. As for Sidonie, she seemed unconscious, lifeless. +The cold air blowing from the garden through the little door, which was +opened at the time of Risler's swoon, made her shiver, and she +mechanically drew the folds of her scarf around her shoulders, her eyes +fixed on vacancy, her thoughts wandering. Did she not hear the violins +of her ball, which reached their ears in the intervals of silence, like +bursts of savage irony, with the heavy thud of the dancers shaking the +floors? An iron hand, falling upon her, aroused her abruptly from her +torpor. Risler had taken her by the arm, and, leading her before his +partner's wife, he said: + +"Down on your knees!" + +Madame Fromont drew back, remonstrating: + +"No, no, Risler, not that." + +"It must be," said the implacable Risler. "Restitution, reparation! +Down on your knees then, wretched woman!" And with irresistible force he +threw Sidonie at Claire's feet; then, still holding her arm; + +"You will repeat after me, word for word, what I say: Madame--" + +Sidonie, half dead with fear, repeated faintly: "Madame--" + +"A whole lifetime of humility and submission--" + +"A whole lifetime of humil-- No, I can not!" she exclaimed, springing to +her feet with the agility of a deer; and, wresting herself from Risler's +grasp, through that open door which had tempted her from the beginning of +this horrible scene, luring her out into the darkness of the night to the +liberty obtainable by flight, she rushed from the house, braving the +falling snow and the wind that stung her bare shoulders. + +"Stop her, stop her!--Risler, Planus, I implore you! In pity's name do +not let her go in this way," cried Claire. + +Planus stepped toward the door. + +Risler detained him. + +"I forbid you to stir! I ask your pardon, Madame, but we have more +important matters than this to consider. Madame Risler concerns us no +longer. We have to save the honor of the house of Fromont, which alone is +at stake, which alone fills my thoughts at this moment." + +Sigismond put out his hand. + +"You are a noble man, Risler. Forgive me for having suspected you." + +Risler pretended not to hear him. + +"A hundred thousand francs to pay, you say? How much is there left in +the strong-box?" + +He sat bravely down behind the gratin, looking over the books of account, +the certificates of stock in the funds, opening the jewel-cases, +estimating with Planus, whose father had been a jeweller, the value of +all those diamonds, which he had once so admired on his wife, having no +suspicion of their real value. + +Meanwhile Claire, trembling from head to foot, looked out through the +window at the little garden, white with snow, where Sidonie's footsteps +were already effaced by the fast-falling flakes, as if to bear witness +that that precipitate departure was without hope of return. + +Up-stairs they were still dancing. The mistress of the house was +supposed to be busy with the preparations for supper, while she was +flying, bare-headed, forcing back sobs and shrieks of rage. + +Where was she going? She had started off like a mad woman, running +across the garden and the courtyard of the factory, and under the dark +arches, where the cruel, freezing wind blew in eddying circles. Pere +Achille did not recognize her; he had seen so many shadows wrapped in +white pass his lodge that night. + +The young woman's first thought was to join the tenor Cazaboni, whom at +the last she had not dared to invite to her ball; but he lived at +Montmartre, and that was very far away for her to go, in that garb; and +then, would he be at home? Her parents would take her in, doubtless; but +she could already hear Madame Chebe's lamentations and the little man's +sermon under three heads. Thereupon she thought of Delobelle, her old +Delobelle. In the downfall of all her splendors she remembered the man +who had first initiated her into fashionable life, who had given her +lessons in dancing and deportment when she was a little girl, laughed at +her pretty ways, and taught her to look upon herself as beautiful before +any one had ever told her that she was so. Something told her that that +fallen star would take her part against all others. She entered one of +the carriages standing at the gate and ordered the driver to take her to +the actor's lodgings on the Boulevard Beaumarchais. + +For some time past Mamma Delobelle had been making straw hats for export- +a dismal trade if ever there was one, which brought in barely two francs +fifty for twelve hours' work. + +And Delobelle continued to grow fat in the same degree that his "sainted +wife" grew thin. At the very moment when some one knocked hurriedly at +his door he had just discovered a fragrant soup 'au fromage', which had +been kept hot in the ashes on the hearth. The actor, who had been +witnessing at Beaumarchais some dark-browed melodrama drenched with gore +even to the illustrated headlines of its poster, was startled by that +knock at such an advanced hour. + +"Who is there?" he asked in some alarm. + +"It is I, Sidonie. Open the door quickly." + +She entered the room, shivering all over, and, throwing aside her wrap, +went close to the stove where the fire was almost extinct. She began to +talk at once, to pour out the wrath that had been stifling her for an +hour, and while she was describing the scene in the factory, lowering her +voice because of Madame Delobelle, who was asleep close by, the +magnificence of her costume in that poor, bare, fifth floor, the dazzling +whiteness of her disordered finery amid the heaps of coarse hats and the +wisps of straw strewn about the room, all combined to produce the effect +of a veritable drama, of one of those terrible upheavals of life when +rank, feelings, fortunes are suddenly jumbled together. + +"Oh! I never shall return home. It is all over. Free--I am free!" + +"But who could have betrayed you to your husband?" asked the actor. + +"It was Frantz! I am sure it was Frantz. He wouldn't have believed it +from anybody else. Only last evening a letter came from Egypt. Oh! how +he treated me before that woman! To force me to kneel! But I'll be +revenged. Luckily I took something to revenge myself with before I came +away." + +And the smile of former days played about the corners of her pale lips. + +The old strolling player listened to it all with deep interest. +Notwithstanding his compassion for that poor devil of a Risler, and for +Sidonie herself, for that matter, who seemed to him, in theatrical +parlance, "a beautiful culprit," he could not help viewing the affair +from a purely scenic standpoint, and finally cried out, carried away by +his hobby: + +"What a first-class situation for a fifth act!" + +She did not bear him. Absorbed by some evil thought, which made her +smile in anticipation, she stretched out to the fire her dainty shoes, +saturated with snow, and her openwork stockings. + +"Well, what do you propose to do now?" Delobelle asked after a pause. + +"Stay here till daylight and get a little rest. Then I will see." + +"I have no bed to offer you, my poor girl. Mamma Delobelle has gone to +bed." + +"Don't you worry about me, my dear Delobelle. I'll sleep in that +armchair. I won't be in your way, I tell you!" + +The actor heaved a sigh. + +"Ah! yes, that armchair. It was our poor Zizi's. She sat up many a +night in it, when work was pressing. Ah, me! those who leave this world +are much the happiest." + +He had always at hand such selfish, comforting maxims. He had no sooner +uttered that one than he discovered with dismay that his soup would soon +be stone-cold. Sidonie noticed his movement. + +"Why, you were just eating your supper, weren't you? Pray go on." + +"'Dame'! yes, what would you have? It's part of the trade, of the hard +existence we fellows have. For you see, my girl, I stand firm. I +haven't given up. I never will give up." + +What still remained of Desiree's soul in that wretched household in which +she had lived twenty years must have shuddered at that terrible +declaration. He never would give up! + +"No matter what people may say," continued Delobelle, "it's the noblest +profession in the world. You are free; you depend upon nobody. Devoted +to the service of glory and the public! Ah! I know what I would do in +your place. As if you were born to live with all those bourgeois--the +devil! What you need is the artistic life, the fever of success, the +unexpected, intense emotion." + +As he spoke he took his seat, tucked his napkin in his neck, and helped +himself to a great plateful of soup. + +"To say nothing of the fact that your triumphs as a pretty woman would +in no wise interfere with your triumph as an actress. By the way, do you +know, you must take a few lessons in elocution. With your voice, your +intelligence, your charms, you would have a magnificent prospect." + +Then he added abruptly, as if to initiate her into the joys of the +dramatic art: + +"But it occurs to me that perhaps you have not supped! Excitement makes +one hungry; sit there, and take this soup. I am sure that you haven't +eaten soup 'au fromage' for a long while." + +He turned the closet topsy-turvy to find her a spoon and a napkin; and +she took her seat opposite him, assisting him and laughing a little at +the difficulties attending her entertainment. She was less pale already, +and there was a pretty sparkle in her eyes, composed of the tears of a +moment before and the present gayety. + +The strolling actress! All her happiness in life was lost forever: +honor, family, wealth. She was driven from her house, stripped, +dishonored. She had undergone all possible humiliations and disasters. +That did not prevent her supping with a wonderful appetite and joyously +holding her own under Delobelle's jocose remarks concerning her vocation +and her future triumphs. She felt light-hearted and happy, fairly +embarked for the land of Bohemia, her true country. What more would +happen to her? Of how many ups and downs was her new, unforeseen, and +whimsical existence to consist? She thought about that as she fell +asleep in Desiree's great easy-chair; but she thought of her revenge, +too--her cherished revenge which she held in her hand, all ready for use, +and so unerring, so fierce! + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +THE NEW EMYLOYEE OF THE HOUSE OF FROMONT + +It was broad daylight when Fromont Jeune awoke. All night long, between +the drama that was being enacted below him and the festivity in joyous +progress above, he slept with clenched fists, the deep sleep of complete +prostration like that of a condemned man on the eve of his execution or +of a defeated General on the night following his disaster; a sleep from +which one would wish never to awake, and in which, in the absence of all +sensation, one has a foretaste of death. + +The bright light streaming through his curtains, made more dazzling by +the deep snow with which the garden and the surrounding roofs were +covered, recalled him to the consciousness of things as they were. He +felt a shock throughout his whole being, and, even before his mind began +to work, that vague impression of melancholy which misfortunes, +momentarily forgotten, leave in their place. All the familiar noises of +the factory, the dull throbbing of the machinery, were in full activity. +So the world still existed! and by slow degrees the idea of his own +responsibility awoke in him. + +"To-day is the day," he said to himself, with an involuntary movement +toward the dark side of the room, as if he longed to bury himself anew in +his long sleep. + +The factory bell rang, then other bells in the neighborhood, then the +Angelus. + +"Noon! Already! How I have slept!" + +He felt some little remorse and a great sense of relief at the thought +that the drama of settling-day had passed off without him. What had they +done downstairs? Why did they not call him? + +He rose, drew the curtains aside, and saw Risler and Sigismond talking +together in the garden. And it was so long since they had spoken to each +other! What in heaven's name had happened? When he was ready to go down +he found Claire at the door of his room. + +"You must not go out," she said. + +"Why not?" + +"Stay here. I will explain it to you." + +"But what's the matter? Did any one come from the Bank?" + +"Yes, they came--the notes are paid." + +"Paid?" + +"Risler obtained the money. He has been rushing about with Planus since +early morning. It seems that his wife had superb jewels. The diamond +necklace alone brought twenty thousand francs. He has also sold their +house at Asnieres with all it contained; but as time was required to +record the deed, Planus and his sister advanced the money." + +She turned away from him as she spoke. He, on his side, hung his head to +avoid her glance. + +"Risler is an honorable man," she continued, "and when he learned from +whom his wife received all her magnificent things--" + +"What!" exclaimed Georges in dismay. "He knows?" + +"All," Claire replied, lowering her voice. + +The wretched man turned pale, stammered feebly: + +"Why, then--you?" + +"Oh! I knew it all before Risler. Remember, that when I came home last +night, I told you I had heard very cruel things down at Savigny, and that +I would have given ten years of my life not to have taken that journey." + +"Claire!" + +Moved by a mighty outburst of affection, he stepped toward his wife; but +her face was so cold, so sad, so resolute, her despair was so plainly +written in the stern indifference of her whole bearing, that he dared not +take her in his arms as he longed to do, but simply murmured under his +breath: + +"Forgive!--forgive!" + +"You must think me strangely calm," said the brave woman; "but I shed all +my tears yesterday. You may have thought that I was weeping over our +ruin; you were mistaken. While one is young and strong as we are, +such cowardly conduct is not permissible. We are armed against want and +can fight it face to face. No, I was weeping for our departed happiness, +for you, for the madness that led you to throw away your only, your true +friend." + +She was lovely, lovelier than Sidonie had ever been, as she spoke thus, +enveloped by a pure light which seemed to fall upon her from a great +height, like the radiance of a fathomless, cloudless sky; whereas the +other's irregular features had always seemed to owe their brilliancy, +their saucy, insolent charm to the false glamour of the footlights in +some cheap theatre. The touch of statuesque immobility formerly +noticeable in Claire's face was vivified by anxiety, by doubt, by all the +torture of passion; and like those gold ingots which have their full +value only when the Mint has placed its stamp upon them, those beautiful +features stamped with the effigy of sorrow had acquired since the +preceding day an ineffaceable expression which perfected their beauty. + +Georges gazed at her in admiration. She seemed to him more alive, more +womanly, and worthy of adoration because of their separation and all the +obstacles that he now knew to stand between them. Remorse, despair, +shame entered his heart simultaneously with this new love, and he would +have fallen on his knees before her. + +"No, no, do not kneel," said Claire; "if you knew of what you remind me, +if you knew what a lying face, distorted with hatred, I saw at my feet +last night!" + +"Ah! but I am not lying," replied Georges with a shudder. "Claire, I +implore you, in the name of our child--" + +At that moment some one knocked at the door. + +"Rise, I beg of you! You see that life has claims upon us," she said in +a low voice and with a bitter smile; then she asked what was wanted. + +Monsieur Risler had sent for Monsieur to come down to the office. + +"Very well," she said; "say that he will come." + +Georges approached the door, but she stopped him. + +"No, let me go. He must not see you yet." + +"But--" + +"I wish you to stay here. You have no idea of the indignation and wrath +of that poor man, whom you have deceived. If you had seen him last +night, crushing his wife's wrists!" + +As she said it she looked him in the face with a curiosity most cruel to +herself; but Georges did not wince, and replied simply: + +"My life belongs to him." + +"It belongs to me, too; and I do not wish you to go down. There has been +scandal enough in my father's house. Remember that the whole factory is +aware of what is going on. Every one is watching us, spying upon us. +It required all the authority of the foremen to keep the men busy to-day, +to compel them to keep their inquisitive looks on their work." + +"But I shall seem to be hiding." + +"And suppose it were so! That is just like a man. They do not recoil +from the worst crimes: betraying a wife, betraying a friend; but the +thought that they may be accused of being afraid touches them more keenly +than anything. Moreover, listen to what I say. Sidonie has gone; she +has gone forever; and if you leave this house I shall think that you have +gone to join her." + +"Very well, I will stay," said Georges. "I will do whatever you wish." + +Claire descended into Planus' office. + +To see Risler striding to and fro, with his hands behind his back, as +calm as usual, no one would ever have suspected all that had taken place +in his life since the night before. As for Sigismond, he was fairly +beaming, for he saw nothing in it all beyond the fact that the notes had +been paid at maturity and that the honor of the firm was safe. + +When Madame Fromont appeared, Risler smiled sadly and shook his head. + +"I thought that you would prefer to come down in his place; but you are +not the one with whom I have to deal. It is absolutely necessary that I +should see Georges and talk with him. We have paid the notes that fell +due this morning; the crisis has passed; but we must come to an +understanding about many matters." + +"Risler, my friend, I beg you to wait a little longer." + +"Why, Madame Chorche, there's not a minute to lose. Oh! I suspect that +you fear I may give way to an outbreak of anger. Have no fear--let him +have no fear. You know what I told you, that the honor of the house of +Fromont is to be assured before my own. I have endangered it by my +fault. First of all, I must repair the evil I have done or allowed to be +done." + +"Your conduct toward us is worthy of all admiration, my good Risler; I +know it well." + +"Oh! Madame, if you could see him! he's a saint," said poor Sigismond, +who, not daring to speak to his friend, was determined at all events to +express his remorse. + +"But aren't you afraid?" continued Claire. "Human endurance has its +limits. It may be that in presence of the man who has injured you so--" + +Risler took her hands, gazed into her eyes with grave admiration, and +said: + +"You dear creature, who speak of nothing but the injury done to me! Do +you not know that I hate him as bitterly for his falseness to you? But +nothing of that sort has any existence for me at this moment. You see in +me simply a business man who wishes to have an understanding with his +partner for the good of the firm. So let him come down without the +slightest fear, and if you dread any outbreak on my part, stay here with +us. I shall need only to look at my old master's daughter to be reminded +of my promise and my duty." + +"I trust you, my friend," said Claire; and she went up to bring her +husband. + +The first minute of the interview was terrible. Georges was deeply +moved, humiliated, pale as death. He would have preferred a hundred +times over to be looking into the barrel of that man's pistol at twenty +paces, awaiting his fire, instead of appearing before him as an +unpunished culprit and being compelled to confine his feelings within the +commonplace limits of a business conversation. + +Risler pretended not to look at him, and continued to pace the floor as +he talked: + +"Our house is passing through a terrible crisis. We have averted the +disaster for to-day; but this is not the last of our obligations. That +cursed invention has kept my mind away from the business for a long +while. Luckily, I am free now, and able to attend to it. But you must +give your attention to it as well. The workmen and clerks have followed +the example of their employers to some extent. Indeed, they have become +extremely negligent and indifferent. This morning, for the first time in +a year, they began work at the proper time. I expect that you will make +it your business to change all that. As for me, I shall work at my +drawings again. Our patterns are old-fashioned. We must have new ones +for the new machines. I have great confidence in our presses. The +experiments have succeeded beyond my hopes. We unquestionably have in +them a means of building up our business. I didn't tell you sooner +because I wished to surprise you; but we have no more surprises for each +other, have we, Georges?" + +There was such a stinging note of irony in his voice that Claire +shuddered, fearing an outbreak; but he continued, in his natural tone. + +"Yes, I think I can promise that in six months the Risler Press will +begin to show magnificent results. But those six months will be very +hard to live through. We must limit ourselves, cut down our expenses, +save in every way that we can. We have five draughtsmen now; hereafter +we will have but two. I will undertake to make the absence of the others +of no consequence by working at night myself. Furthermore, beginning +with this month, I abandon my interest in the firm. I will take my +salary as foreman as I took it before, and nothing more." + +Fromont attempted to speak, but a gesture from his wife restrained him, +and Risler continued: + +"I am no longer your partner, Georges. I am once more the clerk that I +never should have ceased to be. From this day our partnership articles +are cancelled. I insist upon it, you understand; I insist upon it. We +will remain in that relation to each other until the house is out of +difficulty and I can-- But what I shall do then concerns me alone. This +is what I wanted to say to you, Georges. You must give your attention to +the factory diligently; you must show yourself, make it felt that you are +master now, and I believe there will turn out to be, among all our +misfortunes, some that can be retrieved." + +During the silence that followed, they heard the sound of wheels in the +garden, and two great furniture vans stopped at the door. + +"I beg your pardon," said Risler, "but I must leave you a moment. Those +are the vans from the public auction rooms; they have come to take away +my furniture from upstairs." + +"What! you are going to sell your furniture too?" asked Madame Fromont. + +"Certainly--to the last piece. I am simply giving it back to the firm. +It belongs to it." + +"But that is impossible," said Georges. "I can not allow that." + +Risler turned upon him indignantly. + +"What's that? What is it that you can't allow?" + +Claire checked him with an imploring gesture. + +"True--true!" he muttered; and he hurried from the room to escape the +sudden temptation to give vent to all that was in his heart. + +The second floor was deserted. The servants, who had been paid and +dismissed in the morning, had abandoned the apartments to the disorder of +the day following a ball; and they wore the aspect peculiar to places +where a drama has been enacted, and which are left in suspense, as it +were, between the events that have happened and those that are still to +happen. The open doors, the rugs lying in heaps in the corners, the +salvers laden with glasses, the preparations for the supper, the table +still set and untouched, the dust from the dancing on all the furniture, +its odor mingled with the fumes of punch, of withered flowers, of rice- +powder--all these details attracted Risler's notice as he entered. + +In the disordered salon the piano was open, the bacchanal from 'Orphee +aux Enfers' on the music-shelf, and the gaudy hangings surrounding that +scene of desolation, the chairs overturned, as if in fear, reminded one +of the saloon of a wrecked packet-boat, of one of those ghostly nights of +watching when one is suddenly informed, in the midst of a fete at sea, +that the ship has sprung a leak, that she is taking in water in every +part. + +The men began to remove the furniture. Risler watched them at work with +an indifferent air, as if he were in a stranger's house. That +magnificence which had once made him so happy and proud inspired in him +now an insurmountable disgust. But, when he entered his wife's bedroom, +he was conscious of a vague emotion. + +It was a large room, hung with blue satin under white lace. A veritable +cocotte's nest. There were torn and rumpled tulle ruffles lying about, +bows, and artificial flowers. The wax candles around the mirror had +burned down to the end and cracked the candlesticks; and the bed, with +its lace flounces and valances, its great curtains raised and drawn back, +untouched in the general confusion, seemed like the bed of a corpse, a +state bed on which no one would ever sleep again. + +Risler's first feeling upon entering the room was one of mad indignation, +a longing to fall upon the things before him, to tear and rend and +shatter everything. Nothing, you see, resembles a woman so much as her +bedroom. Even when she is absent, her image still smiles in the mirrors +that have reflected it. A little something of her, of her favorite +perfume, remains in everything she has touched. Her attitudes are +reproduced in the cushions of her couch, and one can follow her goings +and comings between the mirror and the toilette table in the pattern of +the carpet. The one thing above all others in that room that recalled +Sidonie was an 'etagere' covered with childish toys, petty, trivial +knickknacks, microscopic fans, dolls' tea-sets, gilded shoes, little +shepherds and shepherdesses facing one another, exchanging cold, +gleaming, porcelain glances. That 'etagere' was Sidonie's very soul, and +her thoughts, always commonplace, petty, vain, and empty, resembled those +gewgaws. Yes, in very truth, if Risler, while he held her in his grasp +last night, had in his frenzy broken that fragile little head, a whole +world of 'etagere' ornaments would have come from it in place of a brain. + +The poor man was thinking sadly of all these things amid the ringing of +hammers and the heavy footsteps of the furniture-movers, when he heard an +interloping, authoritative step behind him, and Monsieur Chebe appeared, +little Monsieur Chebe, flushed and breathless, with flames darting from +his eyes. He assumed, as always, a very high tone with his son-in-law. + +"What does this mean? What is this I hear? Ah! so you're moving, are +you?" + +"I am not moving, Monsieur Chebe--I am selling out." + +The little man gave a leap like a scalded fish. + +"You are selling out? What are you selling, pray?" + +"I am selling everything," said Risler in a hollow voice, without even +looking at him. + +"Come, come, son-in-law, be reasonable. God knows I don't say that +Sidonie's conduct-- But, for my part, I know nothing about it. I never +wanted to know anything. Only I must remind you of your dignity. People +wash their dirty linen in private, deuce take it! They don't make +spectacles of themselves as you've been doing ever since morning. Just +see everybody at the workshop windows; and on the porch, too! Why, +you're the talk of the quarter, my dear fellow." + +"So much the better. The dishonor was public, the reparation must be +public, too." + +This apparent coolness, this indifference to all his observations, +exasperated Monsieur Chebe. He suddenly changed his tactics, and +adopted, in addressing his son-in-law, the serious, peremptory tone which +one uses with children or lunatics. + +"Well, I say that you haven't any right to take anything away from here. +I remonstrate formally, with all my strength as a man, with all my +authority as a father. Do you suppose I am going to let you drive my +child into the street. No, indeed! Oh! no, indeed! Enough of such +nonsense as that! Nothing more shall go out of these rooms." + +And Monsieur Chebe, having closed the door, planted himself in front of +it with a heroic gesture. Deuce take it! his own interest was at stake +in the matter. The fact was that when his child was once in the gutter +he ran great risk of not having a feather bed to sleep on himself. He +was superb in that attitude of an indignant father, but he did not keep +it long. Two hands, two vises, seized his wrists, and he found himself +in the middle of the room, leaving the doorway clear for the workmen. + +"Chebe, my boy, just listen," said Risler, leaning over him. "I am at +the end of my forbearance. Since this morning I have been making +superhuman efforts to restrain myself, but it would take very little now +to make my anger burst all bonds, and woe to the man on whom it falls! +I am quite capable of killing some one. Come! Be off at once!--" + +There was such an intonation in his son-in-law's voice, and the way that +son-in-law shook him as he spoke was so eloquent, that Monsieur Chebe was +fully convinced. He even stammered an apology. Certainly Risler had +good reason for acting as he had. All honorable people would be on his +side. And he backed toward the door as he spoke. When he reached it, +he inquired timidly if Madame Chebe's little allowance would be +continued. + +"Yes," was Risler's reply, "but never go beyond it, for my position here +is not what it was. I am no longer a partner in the house." + +Monsieur Chebe stared at him in amazement, and assumed the idiotic +expression which led many people to believe that the accident that had +happened to him--exactly like that of the Duc d'Orleans, you know--was +not a fable of his own invention; but he dared not make the slightest +observation. Surely some one had changed his son-in-law. Was this +really Risler, this tiger-cat, who bristled up at the slightest word +and talked of nothing less than killing people? + +He took to his heels, recovered his self-possession at the foot of the +stairs, and walked across the courtyard with the air of a conqueror. + +When all the rooms were cleared and empty, Risler walked through them for +the last time, then took the key and went down to Planus's office to hand +it to Madame Georges. + +"You can let the apartment," he said, "it will be so much added to the +income of the factory." + +"But you, my friend?" + +"Oh! I don't need much. An iron bed up under the eaves. That's all a +clerk needs. For, I repeat, I am nothing but a clerk from this time on. +A useful clerk, by the way, faithful and courageous, of whom you will +have no occasion to complain, I promise you." + +Georges, who was going over the books with Planus, was so affected at +hearing the poor fellow talk in that strain that he left his seat +precipitately. He was suffocated by his sobs. Claire, too, was deeply +moved; she went to the new clerk of the house of Fromont and said to him: + +"Risler, I thank you in my father's name." + +At that moment Pere Achille appeared with the mail. + +Risler took the pile of letters, opened them tranquilly one by one, and +passed them over to Sigismond. + +"Here's an order for Lyon. Why wasn't it answered at Saint-Etienne?" + +He plunged with all his energy into these details, and he brought to them +a keen intelligence, due to the constant straining of the mind toward +peace and forgetfulness. + +Suddenly, among those huge envelopes, stamped with the names of business +houses, the paper of which and the manner of folding suggested the office +and hasty despatch, he discovered one smaller one, carefully sealed, and +hidden so cunningly between the others that at first he did not notice +it. He recognized instantly that long, fine, firm writing,--To Monsieur +Risler--Personal. It was Sidonie's writing! When he saw it he felt the +same sensation he had felt in the bedroom upstairs. + +All his love, all the hot wrath of the betrayed husband poured back into +his heart with the frantic force that makes assassins. What was she +writing to him? What lie had she invented now? He was about to open the +letter; then he paused. He realized that, if he should read that, it +would be all over with his courage; so he leaned over to the old cashier, +and said in an undertone: + +"Sigismond, old friend, will you do me a favor?" + +"I should think so!" said the worthy man enthusiastically. He was so +delighted to hear his friend speak to him in the kindly voice of the old +days. + +"Here's a letter someone has written me which I don't wish to read now. +I am sure it would interfere with my thinking and living. You must keep +it for me, and this with it." + +He took from his pocket a little package carefully tied, and handed it to +him through the grating. + +"That is all I have left of the past, all I have left of that woman. +I have determined not to see her, nor anything that reminds me of her, +until my task here is concluded, and concluded satisfactorily,--I need +all my intelligence, you understand. You will pay the Chebes' allowance. +If she herself should ask for anything, you will give her what she needs. +But you will never mention my name. And you will keep this package safe +for me until I ask you for it." + +Sigismond locked the letter and the package in a secret drawer of his +desk with other valuable papers. Risler returned at once to his +correspondence; but all the time he had before his eyes the slender +English letters traced by a little hand which he had so often and so +ardently pressed to his heart. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +CAFE CHANTANT + +What a rare, what a conscientious clerk did that new employe of the house +of Fromont prove himself! + +Every day his lamp was the first to appear at, and the last to disappear +from, the windows of the factory. A little room had been arranged for +him under the eaves, exactly like the one he had formerly occupied with +Frantz, a veritable Trappist's cell, furnished with an iron cot and a +white wooden table, that stood under his brother's portrait. He led the +same busy, regular, quiet life as in those old days. + +He worked constantly, and had his meals brought from the same little +creamery. But, alas! the disappearance forever of youth and hope +deprived those memories of all their charm. Luckily he still had Frantz +and Madame "Chorche," the only two human beings of whom he could think +without a feeling of sadness. Madame "Chorche" was always at hand, +always trying to minister to his comfort, to console him; and Frantz +wrote to him often, without mentioning Sidonie, by the way. Risler +supposed that some one had told Frantz of the disaster that had befallen +him, and he too avoided all allusion to the subject in his letters. +"Oh! when I can send for him to come home!" That was his dream, his sole +ambition: to restore the factory and recall his brother. + +Meanwhile the days succeeded one another, always the same to him in the +restless activity of business and the heartrending loneliness of his +grief. Every morning he walked through the workshops, where the profound +respect he inspired and his stern, silent countenance had reestablished +the orderly conditions that had been temporarily disturbed. In the +beginning there had been much gossip, and various explanations of +Sidonie's departure had been made. Some said that she had eloped with a +lover, others that Risler had turned her out. The one fact that upset +all conjectures was the attitude of the two partners toward each other, +apparently as unconstrained as before. Sometimes, however, when they +were talking together in the office, with no one by, Risler would +suddenly start convulsively, as a vision of the crime passed before his +eyes. + +Then he would feel a mad longing to spring upon the villain, seize him by +the throat, strangle him without mercy; but the thought of Madame +"Chorche" was always there to restrain him. Should he be less +courageous, less master of himself than that young wife? Neither Claire, +nor Fromont, nor anybody else suspected what was in his mind. They could +barely detect a severity, an inflexibility in his conduct, which were not +habitual with him. Risler awed the workmen now; and those of them upon +whom his white hair, blanched in one night, his drawn, prematurely old +features did not impose respect, quailed before his strange glance-a +glance from eyes of a bluish-black like the color of a gun-barrel. +Whereas he had always been very kind and affable with the workmen, he had +become pitilessly severe in regard to the slightest infraction of the +rules. It seemed as if he were taking vengeance upon himself for some +indulgence in the past, blind, culpable indulgence, for which he blamed +himself. + +Surely he was a marvellous employe, was this new officer in the house of +Fromont. + +Thanks to him, the factory bell, notwithstanding the quavering of its +old, cracked voice, had very soon resumed its authority; and the man who +guided the whole establishment denied himself the slightest recreation. +Sober as an apprentice, he left three-fourths of his salary with Planus +for the Chebes' allowance, but he never asked any questions about them. +Punctually on the last day of the month the little man appeared to +collect his little income, stiff and formal in his dealings with +Sigismond, as became an annuitant on duty. Madame Chebe had tried to +obtain an interview with her son-in-law, whom she pitied and loved; but +the mere appearance of her palm-leaf shawl on the steps put Sidonie's +husband to flight. + +In truth, the courage with which he armed himself was more apparent than +real. The memory of his wife never left him. What had become of her? +What was she doing? He was almost angry with Planus for never mentioning +her. That letter, above all things, that letter which he had had the +courage not to open, disturbed him. He thought of it continually. Ah! +had he dared, how he would have liked to ask Sigismond for it! + +One day the temptation was too strong. He was alone in the office. +The old cashier had gone out to luncheon, leaving the key in his drawer, +a most extraordinary thing. Risler could not resist. He opened the +drawer, moved the papers, and searched for his letter. It was not there. +Sigismond must have put it away even more carefully, perhaps with a +foreboding of what actually happened. In his heart Risler was not sorry +for his disappointment; for he well knew that, had he found the letter, +it would have been the end of the resigned and busy life which he imposed +upon himself with so much difficulty. + +Through the week it was all very well. Life was endurable, absorbed by +the innumerable duties of the factory, and so fatiguing that, when night +came, Risler fell on his bed like a lifeless mass. But Sunday was long +and sad. The silence of the deserted yards and workshops opened a far +wider field to his thoughts. He tried to busy himself, but he missed the +encouragement of the others' work. He alone was busy in that great, +empty factory whose very breath was arrested. The locked doors, the +closed blinds, the hoarse voice of Pere Achille playing with his dog in +the deserted courtyard, all spoke of solitude. And the whole +neighborhood also produced the same effect. In the streets, which seemed +wider because of their emptiness, and where the passers-by were few and +silent, the bells ringing for vespers had a melancholy sound, and +sometimes an echo of the din of Paris, rumbling wheels, a belated hand- +organ, the click of a toy-peddler's clappers, broke the silence, as if to +make it even more noticeable. + +Risler would try to invent new combinations of flowers and leaves, and, +while he handled his pencil, his thoughts, not finding sufficient food +there, would escape him, would fly back to his past happiness, to his +hopeless misfortunes, would suffer martyrdom, and then, on returning, +would ask the poor somnambulist, still seated at his table: "What have +you done in my absence?" Alas! he had done nothing. + +Oh! the long, heartbreaking, cruel Sundays! Consider that, mingled with +all these perplexities in his mind, was the superstitious reverence of +the common people for holy days, for the twenty-four hours of rest, +wherein one recovers strength and courage. If he had gone out, the sight +of a workingman with his wife and child would have made him weep, but his +monastic seclusion gave him other forms of suffering, the despair of +recluses, their terrible outbreaks of rebellion when the god to whom they +have consecrated themselves does not respond to their sacrifices. Now, +Risler's god was work, and as he no longer found comfort or serenity +therein, he no longer believed in it, but cursed it. + +Often in those hours of mental struggle the door of the draughting-room +would open gently and Claire Fromont would appear. The poor man's +loneliness throughout those long Sunday afternoons filled her with +compassion, and she would come with her little girl to keep him company, +knowing by experience how contagious is the sweet joyousness of children. +The little one, who could now walk alone, would slip from her mother's +arms to run to her friend. Risler would hear the little, hurrying steps. +He would feel the light breath behind him, and instantly he would be +conscious of a soothing, rejuvenating influence. She would throw her +plump little arms around his neck with affectionate warmth, with her +artless, causeless laugh, and a kiss from that little mouth which never +had lied. Claire Fromont, standing in the doorway, would smile as she +looked at them. + +"Risler, my friend," she would say, "you must come down into the garden a +while,--you work too hard. You will be ill." + +"No, no, Madame,--on the contrary, work is what saves me. It keeps me +from thinking." + +Then, after a long pause, she would continue: + +"Come, my dear Risler, you must try to forget." + +Risler would shake his head. + +"Forget? Is that possible? There are some things beyond one's strength. +A man may forgive, but he never forgets." + +The child almost always succeeded in dragging him down to the garden. +He must play ball, or in the sand, with her; but her playfellow's +awkwardness and lack of enthusiasm soon impressed the little girl. Then +she would become very sedate, contenting herself with walking gravely +between the hedges of box, with her hand in her friend's. After a moment +Risler would entirely forget that she was there; but, although he did not +realize it, the warmth of that little hand in his had a magnetic, +softening effect upon his diseased mind. + +A man may forgive, but he never forgets! + +Poor Claire herself knew something about it; for she had never forgotten, +notwithstanding her great courage and the conception she had formed of +her duty. To her, as to Risler; her surroundings were a constant +reminder of her sufferings. The objects amid which she lived pitilessly +reopened the wound that was ready to close. The staircase, the garden, +the courtyard, all those dumb witnesses of her husband's sin, assumed on +certain days an implacable expression. Even the careful precaution her +husband took to spare her painful reminders, the way in which he called +attention to the fact that he no longer went out in the evening, and took +pains to tell her where he had been during the day, served only to remind +her the more forcibly of his wrong-doing. Sometimes she longed to ask +him to forbear,--to say to him: "Do not protest too much." Faith was +shattered within her, and the horrible agony of the priest who doubts, +and seeks at the same time to remain faithful to his vows, betrayed +itself in her bitter smile, her cold, uncomplaining gentleness. + +Georges was wofully unhappy. He loved his wife now. The nobility of her +character had conquered him. There was admiration in his love, and--why +not say it?--Claire's sorrow filled the place of the coquetry which was +contrary to her nature, the lack of which had always been a defect in her +husband's eyes. He was one of that strange type of men who love to make +conquests. Sidonie, capricious and cold as she was, responded to that +whim of his heart. After parting from her with a tender farewell, he +found her indifferent and forgetful the next day, and that continual need +of wooing her back to him took the place of genuine passion. Serenity in +love bored him as a voyage without storms wearies a sailor. On this +occasion he had been very near shipwreck with his wife, and the danger +had not passed even yet. He knew that Claire was alienated from him and +devoted entirely to the child, the only link between them thenceforth. +Their separation made her seem lovelier, more desirable, and he exercised +all his powers of fascination to recapture her. He knew how hard a task +it would be, and that he had no ordinary, frivolous nature to deal with. +But he did not despair. Sometimes a vague gleam in the depths of the +mild and apparently impassive glance with which she watched his efforts, +bade him hope. + +As for Sidonie, he no longer thought of her. Let no one be astonished at +that abrupt mental rupture. Those two superficial beings had nothing to +attach them securely to each other. Georges was incapable of receiving +lasting impressions unless they were continually renewed; Sidonie, for +her part, had no power to inspire any noble or durable sentiment. It was +one of those intrigues between a cocotte and a coxcomb, compounded of +vanity and of wounded self-love, which inspire neither devotion nor +constancy, but tragic adventures, duels, suicides which are rarely fatal, +and which end in a radical cure. Perhaps, had he seen her again, he +might have had a relapse of his disease; but the impetus of flight had +carried Sidonie away so swiftly and so far that her return was +impossible. At all events, it was a relief for him to be able to live +without lying; and the new life he was leading, a life of hard work and +self-denial, with the goal of success in the distance, was not +distasteful to him. Luckily; for the courage and determination of both +partners were none too much to put the house on its feet once more. + +The poor house of Fromont had sprung leaks on all sides. So Pere Planus +still had wretched nights, haunted by the nightmare of notes maturing and +the ominous vision of the little blue man. But, by strict economy, they +always succeeded in paying. + +Soon four Risler Presses were definitively set up and used in the work of +the factory. People began to take a deep interest in them and in the +wall-paper trade. Lyons, Caen, Rixbeim, the great centres of the +industry, were much disturbed concerning that marvellous "rotary and +dodecagonal" machine. One fine day the Prochassons appeared, and offered +three hundred thousand francs simply for an interest in the patent +rights. + +"What shall we do?" Fromont Jeune asked Risler Aine. + +The latter shrugged his shoulders indifferently. + +"Decide for yourself. It doesn't concern me. I am only an employe." + +The words, spoken coldly, without anger, fell heavily upon Fromont's +bewildered joy, and reminded him of the gravity of a situation which he +was always on the point of forgetting. + +But when he was alone with his dear Madame "Chorche," Risler advised her +not to accept the Prochassons' offer. + +"Wait,--don't be in a hurry. Later you will have a better offer." + +He spoke only of them in that affair in which his own share was so +glorious. She felt that he was preparing to cut himself adrift from +their future. + +Meanwhile orders came pouring in and accumulated on their hands. The +quality of the paper, the reduced price because of the improved methods +of manufacture, made competition impossible. There was no doubt that a +colossal fortune was in store for the house of Fromont. The factory had +resumed its former flourishing aspect and its loud, business-like hum. +Intensely alive were all the great buildings and the hundreds of workmen +who filled them. Pere Planus never raised his nose from his desk; one +could see him from the little garden, leaning over his great ledgers, +jotting down in magnificently molded figures the profits of the Risler +press. + +Risler still worked as before, without change or rest. The return of +prosperity brought no alteration in his secluded habits, and from the +highest window on the topmost floor of the house he listened to the +ceaseless roar of his machines. He was no less gloomy, no less silent. +One day, however, it became known at the factory that the press, a +specimen of which had been sent to the great Exposition at Manchester, +had received the gold medal, whereby its success was definitely +established. Madame Georges called Risler into the garden at the +luncheon hour, wishing to be the first to tell him the good news. + +For the moment a proud smile relaxed his prematurely old, gloomy +features. His inventor's vanity, his pride in his renown, above all, +the idea of repairing thus magnificently the wrong done to the family by +his wife, gave him a moment of true happiness. He pressed Claire's hands +and murmured, as in the old days: + +"I am very happy! I am very happy!" + +But what a difference in tone! He said it without enthusiasm, +hopelessly, with the satisfaction of a task accomplished, and nothing +more. + +The bell rang for the workmen to return, and Risler went calmly upstairs +to resume his work as on other days. + +In a moment he came down again. In spite of all, that news had excited +him more than he cared to show. He wandered about the garden, prowled +around the counting-room, smiling sadly at Pere Planus through the +window. + +"What ails him?" the old cashier wondered. "What does he want of me?" + +At last, when night came and it was time to close the office, Risler +summoned courage to go and speak to him. + +"Planus, my old friend, I should like--" + +He hesitated a moment. + +"I should like you to give me the--letter, you know, the little letter +and the package." + +Sigismond stared at him in amazement. In his innocence, he had imagined +that Risler never thought of Sidonie, that he had entirely forgotten her. + +"What--you want--?" + +"Ah! I have well earned it; I can think of myself a little now. I have +thought enough of others." + +"You are right," said Planus. "Well, this is what we'll do. The letter +and package are at my house at Montrouge. If you choose, we will go and +dine together at the Palais-Royal, as in the good old times. I will +stand treat. We'll water your medal with a bottle of wine; something +choice! Then we'll go to the house together. You can get your trinkets, +and if it's too late for you to go home, Mademoiselle Planus, my sister, +shall make up a bed for you, and you shall pass the night with us. We +are very comfortable there--it's in the country. To-morrow morning at +seven o'clock we'll come back to the factory by the first omnibus. Come, +old fellow, give me this pleasure. If you don't, I shall think you still +bear your old Sigismond a grudge." + +Risler accepted. He cared little about celebrating the award of his +medal, but he desired to gain a few hours before opening the little +letter he had at last earned the right to read. + +He must dress. That was quite a serious matter, for he had lived in a +workman's jacket during the past six months. And what an event in the +factory! Madame Fromont was informed at once. + +"Madame, Madame! Monsieur Risler is going out!" + +Claire looked at him from her window, and that tall form, bowed by +sorrow, leaning on Sigismond's arm, aroused in her a profound, unusual +emotion which she remembered ever after. + +In the street people bowed to Risler with great interest. Even their +greetings warmed his heart. He was so much in need of kindness! But the +noise of vehicles made him a little dizzy. + +"My head is spinning," he said to Planus: + +"Lean hard on me, old fellow-don't be afraid." + +And honest Planus drew himself up, escorting his friend with the artless, +unconventional pride of a peasant of the South bearing aloft his village +saint. + +At last they arrived at the Palais-Royal. + +The garden was full of people. They had come to hear the music, +and were trying to find seats amid clouds of dust and the scraping of +chairs. The two friends hurried into the restaurant to avoid all that +turmoil. They established themselves in one of the large salons on the +first floor, whence they could see the green trees, the promenaders, and +the water spurting from the fountain between the two melancholy flower- +gardens. To Sigismond it was the ideal of luxury, that restaurant, with +gilding everywhere, around the mirrors, in the chandelier and even on the +figured wallpaper. The white napkin, the roll, the menu of a table +d'hote dinner filled his soul with joy. "We are comfortable here, aren't +we?" he said to Risler. + +And he exclaimed at each of the courses of that banquet at two francs +fifty, and insisted on filling his friend's plate. + +"Eat that--it's good." + +The other, notwithstanding his desire to do honor to the fete, seemed +preoccupied and gazed out-of-doors. + +"Do you remember, Sigismond?" he said, after a pause. + +The old cashier, engrossed in his memories of long ago, of Risler's first +employment at the factory, replied: + +"I should think I do remember--listen! The first time we dined together +at the Palais-Royal was in February, 'forty-six, the year we put in the +planches-plates at the factory." + +Risler shook his head. + +"Oh! no--I mean three years ago. It was in that room just opposite that +we dined on that memorable evening." + +And he pointed to the great windows of the salon of Cafe Vefour, gleaming +in the rays of the setting sun like the chandeliers at a wedding feast. + +"Ah! yes, true," murmured Sigismond, abashed. What an unlucky idea of +his to bring his friend to a place that recalled such painful things! + +Risler, not wishing to cast a gloom upon their banquet, abruptly raised +his glass. + +"Come! here's your health, my old comrade." + +He tried to change the subject. But a moment later he himself led the +conversation back to it again, and asked Sigismond, in an undertone, as +if he were ashamed: + +"Have you seen her?" + +"Your wife? No, never." + +"She hasn't written again?" + +"No--never again." + +"But you must have heard of her. What has she been doing these six +months? Does she live with her parents?" + +"No." + +Risler turned pale. + +He hoped that Sidonie would have returned to her mother, that she would +have worked, as he had worked, to forget and atone. He had often thought +that he would arrange his life according to what he should learn of her +when he should have the right to speak of her; and in one of those far- +off visions of the future, which have the vagueness of a dream, he +sometimes fancied himself living in exile with the Chebes in an unknown +land, where nothing would remind him of his past shame. It was not a +definite plan, to be sure; but the thought lived in the depths of his +mind like a hope, caused by the need that all human creatures feel of +finding their lost happiness. + +"Is she in Paris?" he asked, after a few moments' reflection. + +"No. She went away three months ago. No one knows where she has gone." + +Sigismond did not add that she had gone with her Cazaboni, whose name she +now bore, that they were making the circuit of the provincial cities +together, that her mother was in despair, never saw her, and heard of her +only through Delobelle. Sigismond did not deem it his duty to mention +all that, and after his last words he held his peace. + +Risler, for his part, dared ask no further questions. + +While they sat there, facing each other, both embarrassed by the long +silence, the military band began to play under the trees in the garden. +They played one of those Italian operatic overtures which seem to have +been written expressly for public open-air resorts; the swiftly-flowing +notes, as they rise into the air, blend with the call of the swallows and +the silvery plash of the fountain. The blaring brass brings out in bold +relief the mild warmth of the closing hours of those summer days, so long +and enervating in Paris; it seems as if one could hear nothing else. The +distant rumbling of wheels, the cries of children playing, the footsteps +of the promenaders are wafted away in those resonant, gushing, refreshing +waves of melody, as useful to the people of Paris as the daily watering +of their streets. On all sides the faded flowers, the trees white with +dust, the faces made pale and wan by the heat, all the sorrows, all the +miseries of a great city, sitting dreamily, with bowed head, on the +benches in the garden, feel its comforting, refreshing influence. The +air is stirred, renewed by those strains that traverse it, filling it +with harmony. + +Poor Risler felt as if the tension upon all his nerves were relaxed. + +"A little music does one good," he said, with glistening eyes. "My heart +is heavy, old fellow," he added, in a lower tone; "if you knew--" + +They sat without speaking, their elbows resting on the window-sill, while +their coffee was served. + +Then the music ceased, the garden became deserted. The light that had +loitered in the corners crept upward to the roofs, cast its last rays +upon the highest windowpanes, followed by the birds, the swallows, which +saluted the close of day with a farewell chirp from the gutter where they +were huddled together. + +"Now, where shall we go?" said Planus, as they left the restaurant. + +"Wherever you wish." + +On the first floor of a building on the Rue Montpensier, close at hand, +was a cafe chantant, where many people entered. + +"Suppose we go in," said Planus, desirous of banishing his friend's +melancholy at any cost, "the beer is excellent." + +Risler assented to the suggestion; he had not tasted beer for six months. + +It was a former restaurant transformed into a concert-hall. There were +three large rooms, separated by gilded pillars, the partitions having +been removed; the decoration was in the Moorish style, bright red, pale +blue, with little crescents and turbans for ornament. + +Although it was still early, the place was full; and even before entering +one had a feeling of suffocation, simply from seeing the crowds of people +sitting around the tables, and at the farther end, half-hidden by the +rows of pillars, a group of white-robed women on a raised platform, in +the heat and glare of the gas. + +Our two friends had much difficulty in finding seats, and had to be +content with a place behind a pillar whence they could see only half of +the platform, then occupied by a superb person in black coat and yellow +gloves, curled and waxed and oiled, who was singing in a vibrating voice + + Mes beaux lions aux crins dores, + Du sang des troupeaux alteres, + Halte la!--Je fais sentinello! + + [My proud lions with golden manes + Who thirst for the blood of my flocks, + Stand back!--I am on guard!] + +The audience--small tradesmen of the quarter with their wives and +daughters-seemed highly enthusiastic: especially the women. +He represented so perfectly the ideal of the shopkeeper imagination, +that magnificent shepherd of the desert, who addressed lions with such an +air of authority and tended his flocks in full evening dress. And so, +despite their bourgeois bearing, their modest costumes and their +expressionless shop-girl smiles, all those women, made up their little +mouths to be caught by the hook of sentiment, and cast languishing +glances upon the singer. It was truly comical to see that glance at the +platform suddenly change and become contemptuous and fierce as it fell +upon the husband, the poor husband tranquilly drinking a glass of beer +opposite his wife: "You would never be capable of doing sentry duty in +the very teeth of lions, and in a black coat too, and with yellow +gloves!" + +And the husband's eye seemed to reply: + +"Ah! 'dame', yes, he's quite a dashing buck, that fellow." + +Being decidedly indifferent to heroism of that stamp, Risler and +Sigismond were drinking their beer without paying much attention to the +music, when, at the end of the song, amid the applause and cries and +uproar that followed it, Pere Planus uttered an exclamation: + +"Why, that is odd; one would say--but no, I'm not mistaken. It is he, +it's Delobelle!" + +It was, in fact, the illustrious actor, whom he had discovered in the +front row near the platform. His gray head was turned partly away from +them. He was leaning carelessly against a pillar, hat in hand, in his +grand make-up as leading man: dazzlingly white linen, hair curled with +the tongs, black coat with a camellia in the buttonhole, like the ribbon +of an order. He glanced at the crowd from time to time with a +patronizing air: but his eyes were most frequently turned toward the +platform, with encouraging little gestures and smiles and pretended +applause, addressed to some one whom Pere Planus could not see from his +seat. + +There was nothing very extraordinary in the presence of the illustrious +Delobelle at a cafe concert, as he spent all his evenings away from home; +and yet the old cashier felt vaguely disturbed, especially when he +discovered in the same row a blue cape and a pair of steely eyes. It was +Madame Dobson, the sentimental singing-teacher. The conjunction of those +two faces amid the pipe-smoke and the confusion of the crowd, produced +upon Sigismond the effect of two ghosts evoked by a bad dream. He was +afraid for his friend, without knowing exactly why; and suddenly it +occurred to him to take him away. + +"Let us go, Risler. The heat here is enough to kill one." + +Just as they rose--for Risler was no more desirous to stay than to go-- +the orchestra, consisting of a piano and several violins, began a +peculiar refrain. There was a flutter of curiosity throughout the room, +and cries of "Hush! hush! sit down!" + +They were obliged to resume their seats. Risler, too, was beginning to +be disturbed. + +"I know that tune," he said to himself. "Where have I heard it?" + +A thunder of applause and an exclamation from Planus made him raise his +eyes. + +"Come, come, let us go," said the cashier, trying to lead him away. + +But it was too late. + +Risler had already seen his wife come forward to the front of the stage +and curtsey to the audience with a ballet-dancer's smile. + +She wore a white gown, as on the night of the ball; but her whole costume +was much less rich and shockingly immodest. + +The dress was barely caught together at the shoulders; her hair floated +in a blond mist low over her eyes, and around her neck was a necklace of +pearls too large to be real, alternated with bits of tinsel. Delobelle +was right: the Bohemian life was better suited to her. Her beauty had +gained an indefinably reckless expression, which was its most +characteristic feature, and made her a perfect type of the woman who has +escaped from all restraint, placed herself at the mercy of every +accident, and is descending stage by stage to the lowest depths of the +Parisian hell, from which nothing is powerful enough to lift her and +restore her to the pure air and the light. + +And how perfectly at ease she seemed in her strolling life! With what +self-possession she walked to the front of the stage! Ah! could she have +seen the desperate, terrible glance fixed upon her down there in the +hall, concealed behind a pillar, her smile would have lost that equivocal +placidity, her voice would have sought in vain those wheedling, +languorous tones in which she warbled the only song Madame Dobson had +ever been able to teach her: + + Pauv' pitit Mamz'elle Zizi, + C'est l'amou, l'amou qui tourne + La tete a li. + +Risler had risen, in spite of Planus's efforts. "Sit down! sit down!" +the people shouted. The wretched man heard nothing. He was staring at +his wife. + + C'est l'amou, l'amou qui tourne + La tete a li, + +Sidonie repeated affectedly. + +For a moment he wondered whether he should not leap on the platform and +kill her. Red flames shot before his eyes, and he was blinded with +frenzy. + +Then, suddenly, shame and disgust seized upon him and he rushed from the +hall, overturning chairs and tables, pursued by the terror and +imprecations of all those scandalized bourgeois. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +SIDONIE'S VENGEANCE + +Never had Sigismond Planus returned home so late without giving his +sister warning, during the twenty years and more that he had lived at +Montrouge. Consequently Mademoiselle Planus was greatly worried. Living +in community of ideas and of everything else with her brother, having but +one mind for herself and for him, the old maid had felt for several +months the rebound of all the cashier's anxiety and indignation; and the +effect was still noticeable in her tendency to tremble and become +agitated on slight provocation. At the slightest tardiness on +Sigismond's part, she would think: + +"Ah! mon Dieu! If only nothing has happened at the factory!" + +That is the reason why on the evening in question, when the hens and +chickens were all asleep on their perches, and the dinner had been +removed untouched, Mademoiselle Planus was sitting in the little ground- +floor living-room, waiting, in great agitation. + +At last, about eleven o'clock, some one rang. A timid, melancholy ring, +in no wise resembling Sigismond's vigorous pull. + +"Is it you, Monsieur Planus?" queried the old lady from behind the door. + +It was he; but he was not alone. A tall, bent old man accompanied him, +and, as they entered, bade her good-evening in a slow, hesitating voice. +Not till then did Mademoiselle Planus recognize Risler Aine, whom she had +not seen since the days of the New Year's calls, that is to say, some +time before the dramas at the factory. She could hardly restrain an +exclamation of pity; but the grave taciturnity of the two men told her +that she must be silent. + +"Mademoiselle Planus, my sister, you will put clean sheets on my bed. +Our friend Risler does us the honor to pass the night with us." + +The sister hastened away to prepare the bedroom with an almost +affectionate zeal; for, as we know, beside "Monsieur Planus, my brother," +Risler was the only man excepted from the general reprobation in which +she enveloped the whole male sex. + +Upon leaving the cafe concert, Sidonie's husband had had a moment of +frantic excitement. He leaned on Planus's arm, every nerve in his body +strained to the utmost. At that moment he had no thought of going to +Montrouge to get the letter and the package. + +"Leave me--go away," he said to Sigismond. "I must be alone." + +But the other knew better than to abandon him thus to his despair. +Unnoticed by Risler, he led him away from the factory, and as his +affectionate heart suggested to the old cashier what he had best say to +his friend, he talked to him all the time of Frantz, his little Frantz +whom he loved so dearly. + +"That was genuine affection, genuine and trustworthy. No treachery to +fear with such hearts as that!" + +While they talked they left behind them the noisy streets of the centre +of Paris. They walked along the quays, skirted the Jardin des Plantes, +plunged into Faubourg Saint-Marceau. Risler followed where the other +led. Sigismond's words did him so much good! + +In due time they came to the Bievre, bordered at that point with +tanneries whose tall drying-houses with open sides were outlined in blue +against the sky; and then the ill-defined plains of Montsouris, vast +tracts of land scorched and stripped of vegetation by the fiery breath +that Paris exhales around its daily toil, like a monstrous dragon, whose +breath of flame and smoke suffers no vegetation within its range. + +From Montsouris to the fortifications of Montrouge is but a step. When +they had reached that point, Planus had no great difficulty in taking his +friend home with him. He thought, and justly, that his tranquil +fireside, the spectacle of a placid, fraternal, devoted affection, would +give the wretched man's heart a sort of foretaste of the happiness that +was in store for him with his brother Frantz. And, in truth, the charm +of the little household began to work as soon as they arrived. + +"Yes, yes, you are right, old fellow," said Risler, pacing the floor of +the living-room, "I mustn't think of that woman any more. She's like a +dead woman to me now. I have nobody left in the world but my little +Frantz; I don't know yet whether I shall send for him to come home, or go +out and join him; the one thing that is certain is that we are going to +stay together. Ah! I longed so to have a son! Now I have found one. +I want no other. When I think that for a moment I had an idea of killing +myself! Nonsense! it would make Madame What-d'ye-call-her, yonder, too +happy. On the contrary, I mean to live--to live with my Frantz, and for +him, and for nothing else." + +"Bravo!" said Sigismond, "that's the way I like to hear you talk." + +At that moment Mademoiselle Planus came to say that the room was ready. + +Risler apologized for the trouble he was causing them. + +"You are so comfortable, so happy here. Really, it's too bad to burden +you with my melancholy." + +"Ah! my old friend, you can arrange just such happiness as ours for +yourself," said honest Sigismond with beaming face. "I have my sister, +you have your brother. What do we lack?" + +Risler smiled vaguely. He fancied himself already installed with Frantz +in a quiet little quakerish house like that. + +Decidedly, that was an excellent idea of Pere Planus. + +"Come to bed," he said triumphantly. "We'll go and show you your room." + +Sigismond Planus's bedroom was on the ground floor, a large room simply +but neatly furnished; with muslin curtains at the windows and the bed, +and little squares of carpet on the polished floor, in front of the +chairs. The dowager Madame Fromont herself could have found nothing to +say as to the orderly and cleanly aspect of the place. On a shelf or two +against the wall were a few books: Manual of Fishing, The Perfect Country +Housewife, Bayeme's Book-keeping. That was the whole of the intellectual +equipment of the room. + +Pere Planus glanced proudly around. The glass of water was in its place +on the walnut table, the box of razors on the dressing-case. + +"You see, Risler. Here is everything you need. And if you should want +anything else, the keys are in all the drawers--you have only to turn +them. Just see what a beautiful view you get from here. It's a little +dark just now, but when you wake up in the morning you'll see; it is +magnificent." + +He opened the widow. Great drops of rain were beginning to fall, and +lightning flashes rending the darkness disclosed the long, silent line of +the fortifications, with telegraph poles at intervals, or the frowning +door of a casemate. Now and then the footsteps of a patrol making the +rounds, the clash of muskets or swords, reminded them that they were +within the military zone. + +That was the outlook so vaunted by Planus--a melancholy outlook if ever +there were one. + +"And now good-night. Sleep well!" + +But, as the old cashier was leaving the room, his friend called him back: + +"Sigismond." + +"Here!" said Sigismond, and he waited. + +Risler blushed slightly and moved his lips like a man who is about to +speak; then, with a mighty effort, he said: + +"No, no-nothing. Good-night, old man." + +In the dining-room the brother and sister talked together a long while in +low tones. Planus described the terrible occurrence of the evening, the +meeting with Sidonie; and you can imagine the--"Oh! these women!" and +"Oh! these men?" At last, when they had locked the little garden-door, +Mademoiselle Planus went up to her room, and Sigismond made himself as +comfortable as possible in a small cabinet adjoining. + +About midnight the cashier was aroused by his sister calling him in a +terrified whisper: + +"Monsieur Planus, my brother?" + +"What is it?" + +"Did you hear?" + +"No. What?" + +"Oh! it was awful. Something like a deep sigh, but so loud and so sad! +It came from the room below." + +They listened. Without, the rain was falling in torrents, with the +dreary rustling of leaves that makes the country seem so lonely. + +"That is only the wind," said Planus. + +"I am sure not. Hush! Listen!" + +Amid the tumult of the storm, they heard a wailing sound, like a sob, in +which a name was pronounced with difficulty: + +"Frantz! Frantz!" + +It was terrible and pitiful. + +When Christ on the Cross sent up to heaven His despairing cry: 'Eli, eli, +lama sabachthani', they who heard him must have felt the same species of +superstitious terror that suddenly seized upon Mademoiselle Planus. + +"I am afraid!" she whispered; "suppose you go and look--" + +"No, no, we will let him alone. He is thinking of his brother. Poor +fellow! It's the very thought of all others that will do him the most +good." + +And the old cashier went to sleep again. + +The next morning he woke as usual when the drums beat the reveille in the +fortifications; for the little family, surrounded by barracks, regulated +its life by the military calls. The sister had already risen and was +feeding the poultry. When she saw Sigismond she came to him in +agitation. + +"It is very strange," she said, "I hear nothing stirring in Monsieur +Risler's room. But the window is wide open." + +Sigismond, greatly surprised, went and knocked at his friend's door. + +"Risler! Risler!" + +He called in great anxiety: + +"Risler, are you there? Are you asleep?" + +There was no reply. He opened the door. + +The room was cold. It was evident that the damp air had been blowing in +all night through the open window. At the first glance at the bed, +Sigismond thought: "He hasn't been in bed"--for the clothes were +undisturbed and the condition of the room, even in the most trivial +details, revealed an agitated vigil: the still smoking lamp, which he had +neglected to extinguish, the carafe, drained to the last drop by the +fever of sleeplessness; but the thing that filled the cashier with dismay +was to find the bureau drawer wide open in which he had carefully +bestowed the letter and package entrusted to him by his friend. + +The letter was no longer there. The package lay on the table, open, +revealing a photograph of Sidonie at fifteen. With her high-necked +frock, her rebellious hair parted over the forehead, and the embarrassed +pose of an awkward girl, the little Chebe of the old days, Mademoiselle +Le Mire's apprentice, bore little resemblance to the Sidonie of to-day. +And that was the reason why Risler had kept that photograph, as a +souvenir, not of his wife, but of the "little one." + +Sigismond was in great dismay. + +"This is my fault," he said to himself. "I ought to have taken away the +keys. But who would have supposed that he was still thinking of her? +He had sworn so many times that that woman no longer existed for him." + +At that moment Mademoiselle Planus entered the room with consternation +written on her face. + +"Monsieur Risler has gone!" she exclaimed. + +"Gone? Why, wasn't the garden-gate locked?" + +"He must have climbed over the wall. You can see his footprints." + +They looked at each other, terrified beyond measure. + +"It was the letter!" thought Planus. + +Evidently that letter from his wife must have made some extraordinary +revelation to Risler; and, in order not to disturb his hosts, he had made +his escape noiselessly through the window, like a burglar. Why? With +what aim in view? + +"You will see, sister," said poor Planus, as he dressed with all haste, +"you will see that that hussy has played him still another trick." And +when his sister tried to encourage him, he recurred to his favorite +refrain: + +"I haf no gonfidence!" + +As soon as he was dressed, he darted out of the house. + +Risler's footprints could be distinguished on the wet ground as far as +the gate of the little garden. He must have gone before daylight, for +the beds of vegetables and flowers were trampled down at random by deep +footprints with long spaces between; there were marks of heels on the +garden-wall and the mortar was crumbled slightly on top. The brother and +sister went out on the road skirting the fortifications. There it was +impossible to follow the footprints. They could tell nothing more than +that Risler had gone in the direction of the Orleans road. + +"After all," Mademoiselle Planus ventured to say, "we are very foolish to +torment ourselves about him; perhaps he has simply gone back to the +factory." + +Sigismond shook his head. Ah! if he had said all that he thought! + +"Return to the house, sister. I will go and see." + +And with the old "I haf no gonfidence" he rushed away like a hurricane, +his white mane standing even more erect than usual. + +At that hour, on the road near the fortifications, was an endless +procession of soldiers and market-gardeners, guard-mounting, officers' +horses out for exercise, sutlers with their paraphernalia, all the bustle +and activity that is seen in the morning in the neighborhood of forts. +Planus was striding along amid the tumult, when suddenly he stopped. At +the foot of the bank, on the left, in front of a small, square building, +with the inscription. + + CITY OF PARIS, + ENTRANCE TO THE QUARRIES, + +On the rough plaster, he saw a crowd assembled, and soldiers' and custom- +house officers' uniforms, mingled with the shabby, dirty blouses of +barracks-loafers. The old man instinctively approached. A customs +officer, seated on the stone step below a round postern with iron bars, +was talking with many gestures, as if he were acting out his narrative. + +"He was where I am," he said. "He had hanged himself sitting, by pulling +with all his strength on the rope! It's clear that he had made up his +mind to die, for he had a razor in his pocket that he would have used in +case the rope had broken." + +A voice in the crowd exclaimed: "Poor devil!" Then another, a tremulous +voice, choking with emotion, asked timidly: + +"Is it quite certain that he's dead?" + +Everybody looked at Planus and began to laugh. + +"Well, here's a greenhorn," said the officer. "Don't I tell you that he +was all blue this morning, when we cut him down to take him to the +chasseurs' barracks!" + +The barracks were not far away; and yet Sigismond Planus had the greatest +difficulty in the world in dragging himself so far. In vain did he say +to himself that suicides are of frequent occurrence in Paris, especially +in those regions; that not a day passes that a dead body is not found +somewhere along that line of fortifications, as upon the shores of a +tempestuous sea,--he could not escape the terrible presentiment that had +oppressed his heart since early morning. + +"Ah! you have come to see the man that hanged himself," said the +quartermaster-sergeant at the door of the barracks. "See! there he is." + +The body had been laid on a table supported by trestles in a sort of +shed. A cavalry cloak that had been thrown over it covered it from head +to foot, and fell in the shroud-like folds which all draperies assume +that come in contact with the rigidity of death. A group of officers and +several soldiers in duck trousers were looking on at a distance, +whispering as if in a church; and an assistant-surgeon was writing a +report of the death on a high window-ledge. To him Sigismond spoke. + +"I should like very much to see him," he said softly. + +"Go and look." + +He walked to the table, hesitated a minute, then, summoning courage, +uncovered a swollen face, a tall, motionless body in its rain-soaked +garments. + +"She has killed you at last, my old comrade!" murmured Planus, and fell +on his knees, sobbing bitterly. + +The officers had come forward, gazing curiously at the body, which was +left uncovered. + +"Look, surgeon," said one of them. "His hand is closed, as if he were +holding something in it." + +"That is true," the surgeon replied, drawing nearer. "That sometimes +happens in the last convulsions. + +"You remember at Solferino, Commandant Bordy held his little daughter's +miniature in his hand like that? We had much difficulty in taking it +from him." + +As he spoke he tried to open the poor, tightly-closed dead hand. + +"Look!" said he, "it is a letter that he is holding so tight." + +He was about to read it; but one of the officers took it from his hands +and passed it to Sigismond, who was still kneeling. + +"Here, Monsieur. Perhaps you will find in this some last wish to be +carried out." + +Sigismond Planus rose. As the light in the room was dim, he walked with +faltering step to the window, and read, his eyes filled with tears: + +"Well, yes, I love you, I love you, more than ever and forever! What is +the use of struggling and fighting against fate? Our sin is stronger +than we . . . " + +It was the letter which Frantz had written to his sister-in-law a year +before, and which Sidonie had sent to her husband on the day following +their terrible scene, to revenge herself on him and his brother at the +same time. + +Risler could have survived his wife's treachery, but that of his brother +had killed him. + +When Sigismond understood, he was petrified with horror. He stood there, +with the letter in his hand, gazing mechanically through the open window. + +The clock struck six. + +Yonder, over Paris, whose dull roar they could hear although they could +not see the city, a cloud of smoke arose, heavy and hot, moving slowly +upward, with a fringe of red and black around its edges, like the powder- +smoke on a field of battle. Little by little, steeples, white buildings, +a gilded cupola, emerged from the mist, and burst forth in a splendid +awakening. + +Then the thousands of tall factory chimneys, towering above that sea of +clustered roofs, began with one accord to exhale their quivering vapor, +with the energy of a steamer about to sail. Life was beginning anew. +Forward, ye wheels of time! And so much the worse for him who lags +behind! + +Thereupon old Planus gave way to a terrible outburst of wrath. + +"Ah! harlot-harlot!" he cried, shaking his fist; and no one could say +whether he was addressing the woman or the city of Paris. + + + + +ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS: + +A man may forgive, but he never forgets +Word "sacrifice," so vague on careless lips + + + + +End of this Project Gutenberg Etext of Fromont and Risler, v4 +by Alphonse Daudet + diff --git a/3979.zip b/3979.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..d1d41c4 --- /dev/null +++ b/3979.zip diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +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. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. 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