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diff --git a/3980.txt b/3980.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..996a944 --- /dev/null +++ b/3980.txt @@ -0,0 +1,10189 @@ +Project Gutenberg's Fromont and Risler, Complete, by Alphonse Daudet + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Fromont and Risler, Complete + +Author: Alphonse Daudet + +Last Updated: March 3, 2009 +Release Date: October 5, 2006 [EBook #3980] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FROMONT AND RISLER, COMPLETE *** + + + +Produced by David Widger + + + + + +FROMONT AND RISLER + +By ALPHONSE DAUDET + + +With a Preface by LECONTE DE LISLE, of the French Academy + + + + +ALPHONSE DAUDET + +Nominally Daudet, with the Goncourts and Zola, formed a trio +representing Naturalism in fiction. He adopted the watchwords of that +school, and by private friendship, no less than by a common profession +of faith, was one of them. But the students of the future, while +recognizing an obvious affinity between the other two, may be puzzled to +find Daudet's name conjoined with theirs. + +Decidedly, Daudet belonged to the Realistic School. But, above all, he +was an impressionist. All that can be observed--the individual picture, +scene, character--Daudet will render with wonderful accuracy, and all +his novels, especially those written after 1870, show an increasing +firmness of touch, limpidity of style, and wise simplicity in the use of +the sources of pathetic emotion, such as befit the cautious Naturalist. +Daudet wrote stories, but he had to be listened to. Feverish as his +method of writing was--true to his Southern character he took endless +pains to write well, revising every manuscript three times over from +beginning to end. He wrote from the very midst of the human comedy; and +it is from this that he seems at times to have caught the bodily warmth +and the taste of the tears and the very ring of the laughter of men and +women. In the earlier novels, perhaps, the transitions from episode to +episode or from scene to scene are often abrupt, suggesting the manner +of the Goncourts. But to Zola he forms an instructive contrast, of the +same school, but not of the same family. Zola is methodical, Daudet +spontaneous. Zola works with documents, Daudet from the living fact. +Zola is objective, Daudet with equal scope and fearlessness shows more +personal feeling and hence more delicacy. And in style also Zola is +vast, architectural; Daudet slight, rapid, subtle, lively, suggestive. +And finally, in their philosophy of life, Zola may inspire a hate of +vice and wrong, but Daudet wins a love for what is good and true. + +Alphonse Daudet was born in Nimes, Provence, May 13, 1840. His father +had been a well-to-do silk manufacturer, but, while Alphonse was still a +child, lost his property. Poverty compelled the son to seek the wretched +post of usher (pion) in a school at Alais. In November, 1857, he settled +in Paris and joined his almost equally penniless brother Ernest. The +autobiography, 'Le Petit Chose' (1868), gives graphic details about this +period. His first years of literary life were those of an industrious +Bohemian, with poetry for consolation and newspaper work for bread. +He had secured a secretaryship with the Duc de Morny, President of the +Corps Legislatif, and had won recognition for his short stories in the +'Figaro', when failing health compelled him to go to Algiers. Returning, +he married toward that period a lady (Julia Allard, born 1847), whose +literary talent comprehended, supplemented, and aided his own. After +the death of the Duc de Morny (1865) he consecrated himself entirely to +literature and published 'Lettres de mon Moulin' (1868), which also made +his name favorably known. He now turned from fiction to the drama, +and it was not until after 1870 that he became fully conscious of his +vocation as a novelist, perhaps through the trials of the siege of Paris +and the humiliation of his country, which deepened his nature without +souring it. Daudet's genial satire, 'Tartarin de Tarascon', appeared +in 1872; but with the Parisian romance 'Fromont jeune et Risler aine', +crowned by the Academy (1874), he suddenly advanced into the foremost +rank of French novelists; it was his first great success, or, as he puts +it, "the dawn of his popularity." + +How numberless editions of this book were printed, and rights of +translations sought from other countries, Daudet has told us with +natural pride. The book must be read to be appreciated. "Risler, a +self-made, honest man, raises himself socially into a society against +the corruptness of which he has no defence and from which he escapes +only by suicide. Sidonie Chebe is a peculiarly French type, a vain and +heartless woman; Delobelle, the actor, a delectable figure; the domestic +simplicity of Desiree Delobelle and her mother quite refreshing." + +Success followed now after success. 'Jack (1876); Le Nabab (1877); Les +Rois en exil (1879); Numa Roumestan (1882); L'Evangeliste (1883); Sapho +(1884); Tartarin sur des Alces (1886); L'Immortel (1888); Port Tarascon +(1890); Rose et Ninette (1892); La petite Parvisse (1895); and Soutien +de Famille (1899)'; such is the long list of the great life-artist. +In Le Nabab we find obvious traces of Daudet's visits to Algiers and +Corsica-Mora is the Duc de Morny. Sapho is the most concentrated of his +novels, with never a divergence, never a break, in its development. And +of the theme--legitimate marriage contra common-law--what need be said +except that he handled it in a manner most acceptable to the aesthetic +and least offensive to the moral sense? + +L'Immortel is a satire springing from personal reasons; L'Evangeliste +and Rose et Ninette--the latter on the divorce problem--may be classed +as clever novels; but had Daudet never written more than 'Fromont et +Risler', 'Tartarin sur les Alces', and 'Port Tarascon', these would keep +him in lasting remembrance. + +We must not omit to mention also many 'contes' and his 'Trente ans de +Paris (A travers ma vie et mes livres), Souvenirs d'un Homme de lettres +(1888), and Notes sur la Vie (1899)'. + +Alphonse Daudet died in Paris, December 16, 1897 + + LECONTE DE LISLE + de l'Academie Francaise. + + + + +FROMONT AND RISLER + + + + +BOOK 1. + + + + +CHAPTER I. A WEDDING-PARTY AT THE CAFE VEFOUR + +"Madame Chebe!" + +"My boy--" + +"I am so happy!" + +This was the twentieth time that day that the good Risler had said that +he was happy, and always with the same emotional and contented manner, +in the same low, deep voice-the voice that is held in check by emotion +and does not speak too loud for fear of suddenly breaking into violent +tears. + +Not for the world would Risler have wept at that moment--imagine +a newly-made husband giving way to tears in the midst of the +wedding-festival! And yet he had a strong inclination to do so. His +happiness stifled him, held him by the throat, prevented the words from +coming forth. All that he could do was to murmur from time to time, with +a slight trembling of the lips, "I am happy; I am happy!" + +Indeed, he had reason to be happy. + +Since early morning the poor man had fancied that he was being whirled +along in one of those magnificent dreams from which one fears lest he +may awake suddenly with blinded eyes; but it seemed to him as if this +dream would never end. It had begun at five o'clock in the morning, and +at ten o'clock at night, exactly ten o'clock by Vefour's clock, he was +still dreaming. + +How many things had happened during that day, and how vividly he +remembered the most trivial details. + +He saw himself, at daybreak, striding up and down his bachelor quarters, +delight mingled with impatience, clean-shaven, his coat on, and +two pairs of white gloves in his pocket. Then there were the +wedding-coaches, and in the foremost one--the one with white horses, +white reins, and a yellow damask lining--the bride, in her finery, +floated by like a cloud. Then the procession into the church, two by +two, the white veil in advance, ethereal, and dazzling to behold. The +organ, the verger, the cure's sermon, the tapers casting their light +upon jewels and spring gowns, and the throng of people in the sacristy, +the tiny white cloud swallowed up, surrounded, embraced, while the +bridegroom distributed hand-shakes among all the leading tradesmen of +Paris, who had assembled to do him honor. And the grand crash from the +organ at the close, made more solemn by the fact that the church door +was thrown wide open, so that the whole street took part in the family +ceremony--the music passing through the vestibule at the same time with +the procession--the exclamations of the crowd, and a burnisher in an +ample lute-string apron remarking in a loud voice, "The groom isn't +handsome, but the bride's as pretty as a picture." That is the kind of +thing that makes you proud when you happen to be the bridegroom. + +And then the breakfast at the factory, in a workroom adorned with +hangings and flowers; the drive in the Bois--a concession to the wishes +of his mother-in-law, Madame Chebe, who, being the petty Parisian +bourgeoise that she was, would not have deemed her daughter legally +married without a drive around the lake and a visit to the Cascade. +Then the return for dinner, as the lamps were being lighted along +the boulevard, where people turned to look after the wedding-party, a +typical well-to-do bourgeois wedding-party, as it drove up to the grand +entrance at Vefour's with all the style the livery horses could command. + +Risler had reached that point in his dream. + +And now the worthy man, dazed with fatigue and well-being, glanced +vaguely about that huge table of twenty-four covers, curved in the shape +of a horseshoe at the ends, and surrounded by smiling, familiar faces, +wherein he seemed to see his happiness reflected in every eye. The +dinner was drawing near its close. The wave of private conversation +flowed around the table. Faces were turned toward one another, black +sleeves stole behind waists adorned with bunches of asclepias, a +childish face laughed over a fruit ice, and the dessert at the level of +the guests' lips encompassed the cloth with animation, bright colors, +and light. + +Ah, yes! Risler was very happy. + +Except his brother Frantz, everybody he loved was there. First of all, +sitting opposite him, was Sidonie--yesterday little Sidonie, to-day his +wife. For the ceremony of dinner she had laid aside her veil; she had +emerged from her cloud. Now, above the smooth, white silk gown, appeared +a pretty face of a less lustrous and softer white, and the crown of +hair-beneath that other crown so carefully bestowed--would have told you +of a tendency to rebel against life, of little feathers fluttering +for an opportunity to fly away. But husbands do not see such things as +those. + +Next to Sidonie and Frantz, the person whom Risler loved best in the +world was Madame Georges Fromont, whom he called "Madame Chorche," the +wife of his partner and the daughter of the late Fromont, his former +employer and his god. He had placed her beside him, and in his manner of +speaking to her one could read affection and deference. She was a very +young woman, of about the same age as Sidonie, but of a more regular, +quiet and placid type of beauty. She talked little, being out of +her element in that conglomerate assemblage; but she tried to appear +affable. + +On Risler's other side sat Madame Chebe, the bride's mother, radiant +and gorgeous in her green satin gown, which gleamed like a shield. Ever +since the morning the good woman's every thought had been as brilliant +as that robe of emblematic hue. At every moment she said to herself: "My +daughter is marrying Fromont Jeune and Risler Aine, of Rue des Vieilles +Haudriettes!" For, in her mind, it was not Risler alone whom her +daughter took for her husband, but the whole sign of the establishment, +illustrious in the commercial annals of Paris; and whenever she mentally +announced that glorious event, Madame Chebe sat more erect than ever, +stretching the silk of the bodice until it almost cracked. + +What a contrast to the attitude of Monsieur Chebe, who was seated at +a short distance. In different households, as a general rule, the same +causes produce altogether different results. That little man, with the +high forehead of a visionary, as inflated and hollow as a ball, was as +fierce in appearance as his wife was radiant. That was nothing unusual, +by the way, for Monsieur Chebe was in a frenzy the whole year long. +On this particular evening, however, he did not wear his customary +woe-begone, lack-lustre expression, nor the full-skirted coat, with the +pockets sticking out behind, filled to repletion with samples of oil, +wine, truffles, or vinegar, according as he happened to be dealing in +one or the other of those articles. His black coat, new and magnificent, +made a fitting pendant to the green gown; but unfortunately his thoughts +were of the color of his coat. Why had they not seated him beside the +bride, as was his right? Why had they given his seat to young Fromont? +And there was old Gardinois, the Fromonts' grandfather, what business +had he by Sidonie's side? Ah! that was how it was to be! Everything for +the Fromonts and nothing for the Chebes! And yet people are amazed that +there are such things as revolutions! + +Luckily the little man had by his side, to vent his anger upon, his +friend Delobelle, an old, retired actor, who listened to him with his +serene and majestic holiday countenance. + +Strangely enough, the bride herself had something of that same +expression. On that pretty and youthful face, which happiness enlivened +without making glad, appeared indications of some secret preoccupation; +and, at times, the corners of her lips quivered with a smile, as if she +were talking to herself. + +With that same little smile she replied to the somewhat pronounced +pleasantries of Grandfather Gardinois, who sat by her side. + +"This Sidonie, on my word!" said the good man, with a laugh. "When +I think that not two months ago she was talking about going into a +convent. We all know what sort of convents such minxes as she go to! As +the saying is in our province: The Convent of Saint Joseph, four shoes +under the bed!" + +And everybody at the table laughed heartily at the rustic jests of +the old Berrichon peasant, whose colossal fortune filled the place of +manliness, of education, of kindness of heart, but not of wit; for +he had plenty of that, the rascal--more than all his bourgeois +fellow-guests together. Among the very rare persons who inspired a +sympathetic feeling in his breast, little Chebe, whom he had known as +an urchin, appealed particularly to him; and she, for her part, +having become rich too recently not to venerate wealth, talked to her +right-hand neighbor with a very perceptible air of respect and coquetry. + +With her left-hand-neighbor, on the contrary, Georges Fromont, her +husband's partner, she exhibited the utmost reserve. Their conversation +was restricted to the ordinary courtesies of the table; indeed there was +a sort of affectation of indifference between them. + +Suddenly there was that little commotion among the guests which +indicates that they are about to rise: the rustling of silk, the moving +of chairs, the last words of conversations, the completion of a laugh, +and in that half-silence Madame Chebe, who had become communicative, +observed in a very loud tone to a provincial cousin, who was gazing in +an ecstasy of admiration at the newly made bride's reserved and tranquil +demeanor, as she stood with her arm in Monsieur Gardinois's: + +"You see that child, cousin--well, no one has ever been able to find out +what her thoughts were." + +Thereupon the whole party rose and repaired to the grand salon. + +While the guests invited for the ball were arriving and mingling +with the dinner-guests, while the orchestra was tuning up, while +the cavaliers, eyeglass in position, strutted before the impatient, +white-gowned damsels, the bridegroom, awed by so great a throng, had +taken refuge with his friend Planus--Sigismond Planus, cashier of the +house of Fromont for thirty years--in that little gallery decorated +with flowers and hung with a paper representing shrubbery and clambering +vines, which forms a sort of background of artificial verdure to +Vefour's gilded salons. + +"Sigismond, old friend--I am very happy." + +And Sigismond too was happy; but Risler did not give him time to say so. +Now that he was no longer in dread of weeping before his guests, all the +joy in his heart overflowed. + +"Just think of it, my friend!--It's so extraordinary that a young girl +like Sidonie would consent to marry me. For you know I'm not handsome. +I didn't need to have that impudent creature tell me so this morning to +know it. And then I'm forty-two--and she such a dear little thing! There +were so many others she might have chosen, among the youngest and the +richest, to say nothing of my poor Frantz, who loved her so. But, no, +she preferred her old Risler. And it came about so strangely. For a long +time I noticed that she was sad, greatly changed. I felt sure there was +some disappointment in love at the bottom of it. Her mother and I looked +about, and we cudgelled our brains to find out what it could be. One +morning Madame Chebe came into my room weeping, and said, 'You are the +man she loves, my dear friend!'--And I was the man--I was the man! Bless +my soul! Whoever would have suspected such a thing? And to think that +in the same year I had those two great pieces of good fortune--a +partnership in the house of Fromont and married to Sidonie--Oh!" + +At that moment, to the strains of a giddy, languishing waltz, a couple +whirled into the small salon. They were Risler's bride and his partner, +Georges Fromont. Equally young and attractive, they were talking in +undertones, confining their words within the narrow circle of the waltz. + +"You lie!" said Sidonie, slightly pale, but with the same little smile. + +And the other, paler than she, replied: + +"I do not lie. It was my uncle who insisted upon this marriage. He was +dying--you had gone away. I dared not say no." + +Risler, at a distance, gazed at them in admiration. + +"How pretty she is! How well they dance!" + +But, when they spied him, the dancers separated, and Sidonie walked +quickly to him. + +"What! You here? What are you doing? They are looking everywhere for +you. Why aren't you in there?" + +As she spoke she retied his cravat with a pretty, impatient gesture. +That enchanted Risler, who smiled at Sigismond from the corner of his +eye, too overjoyed at feeling the touch of that little gloved hand on +his neck, to notice that she was trembling to the ends of her slender +fingers. + +"Give me your arm," she said to him, and they returned together to the +salons. The white bridal gown with its long train made the badly cut, +awkwardly worn black coat appear even more uncouth; but a coat can +not be retied like a cravat; she must needs take it as it was. As they +passed along, returning the salutations of all the guests who were so +eager to smile upon them, Sidonie had a momentary thrill of pride, of +satisfied vanity. Unhappily it did not last. In a corner of the room +sat a young and attractive woman whom nobody invited to dance, but who +looked on at the dances with a placid eye, illumined by all the joy of +a first maternity. As soon as he saw her, Risler walked straight to the +corner where she sat and compelled Sidonie to sit beside her. Needless +to say that it was Madame "Chorche." To whom else would he have spoken +with such affectionate respect? In what other hand than hers could he +have placed his little Sidonie's, saying: "You will love her dearly, +won't you? You are so good. She needs your advice, your knowledge of the +world." + +"Why, my dear Risler," Madame Georges replied, "Sidonie and I are old +friends. We have reason to be fond of each other still." + +And her calm, straightforward glance strove unsuccessfully to meet that +of her old friend. + +With his ignorance of women, and his habit of treating Sidonie as a +child, Risler continued in the same tone: + +"Take her for your model, little one. There are not two people in the +world like Madame Chorche. She has her poor father's heart. A true +Fromont!" + +Sidonie, with her eyes cast down, bowed without replying, while an +imperceptible shudder ran from the tip of her satin shoe to the topmost +bit of orange-blossom in her crown. But honest Risler saw nothing. The +excitement, the dancing, the music, the flowers, the lights made him +drunk, made him mad. He believed that every one breathed the same +atmosphere of bliss beyond compare which enveloped him. He had no +perception of the rivalries, the petty hatreds that met and passed one +another above all those bejewelled foreheads. + +He did not notice Delobelle, standing with his elbow on the mantel, one +hand in the armhole of his waistcoat and his hat upon his hip, weary +of his eternal attitudinizing, while the hours slipped by and no one +thought of utilizing his talents. He did not notice M. Chebe, who was +prowling darkly between the two doors, more incensed than ever against +the Fromonts. Oh! those Fromonts!--How large a place they filled at that +wedding! They were all there with their wives, their children, their +friends, their friends' friends. One would have said that one of +themselves was being married. Who had a word to say of the Rislers or +the Chebes? Why, he--he, the father, had not even been presented!--And +the little man's rage was redoubled by the attitude of Madame Chebe, +smiling maternally upon one and all in her scarab-hued dress. + +Furthermore, there were at this, as at almost all wedding-parties, two +distinct currents which came together but without mingling. One of the +two soon gave place to the other. The Fromonts, who irritated Monsieur +Chebe so much and who formed the aristocracy of the ball, the president +of the Chamber of Commerce, the syndic of the solicitors, a famous +chocolate-manufacturer and member of the Corps Legislatif, and the +old millionaire Gardinois, all retired shortly after midnight. Georges +Fromont and his wife entered their carriage behind them. Only the Risler +and Chebe party remained, and the festivity at once changed its aspect, +becoming more uproarious. + +The illustrious Delobelle, disgusted to see that no one called upon him +for anything, decided to call upon himself for something, and began in a +voice as resonant as a gong the monologue from Ruy Blas: "Good appetite, +Messieurs!" while the guests thronged to the buffet, spread with +chocolate and glasses of punch. Inexpensive little costumes were +displayed upon the benches, overjoyed to produce their due effect +at last; and here and there divers young shop-clerks, consumed with +conceit, amused themselves by venturing upon a quadrille. + +The bride had long wished to take her leave. At last she disappeared +with Risler and Madame Chebe. As for Monsieur Chebe, who had recovered +all his importance, it was impossible to induce him to go. Some one +must be there to do the honors, deuce take it! And I assure you that +the little man assumed the responsibility! He was flushed, lively, +frolicsome, noisy, almost seditious. On the floor below he could +be heard talking politics with Vefour's headwaiter, and making most +audacious statements. + +Through the deserted streets the wedding-carriage, the tired coachman +holding the white reins somewhat loosely, rolled heavily toward the +Marais. + +Madame Chebe talked continuously, enumerating all the splendors of that +memorable day, rhapsodizing especially over the dinner, the commonplace +menu of which had been to her the highest display of magnificence. +Sidonie mused in the darkness of the carriage, and Risler, sitting +opposite her, even though he no longer said, "I am very happy," +continued to think it with all his heart. Once he tried to take +possession of a little white hand that rested against the closed window, +but it was hastily withdrawn, and he sat there without moving, lost in +mute admiration. + +They drove through the Halles and the Rue de Rambuteau, thronged +with kitchen-gardeners' wagons; and, near the end of the Rue des +Francs-Bourgeois, they turned the corner of the Archives into the Rue de +Braque. There they stopped first, and Madame Chebe alighted at her door, +which was too narrow for the magnificent green silk frock, so that it +vanished in the hall with rustlings of revolt and with all its folds +muttering. A few minutes later, a tall, massive portal on the Rue des +Vieilles-Haudriettes, bearing on the escutcheon that betrayed the former +family mansion, beneath half-effaced armorial bearings, a sign in blue +letters, Wall Papers, was thrown wide open to allow the wedding-carriage +to pass through. + +Thereupon the bride, hitherto motionless and like one asleep, seemed to +wake suddenly, and if all the lights in the vast buildings, workshops or +storehouses, which surrounded the courtyard, had not been extinguished, +Risler might have seen that pretty, enigmatical face suddenly lighted by +a smile of triumph. The wheels revolved less noisily on the fine gravel +of a garden, and soon stopped before the stoop of a small house of two +floors. It was there that the young Fromonts lived, and Risler and his +wife were to take up their abode on the floor above. The house had an +aristocratic air. Flourishing commerce avenged itself therein for the +dismal street and the out-of-the-way quarter. There was a carpet on the +stairway leading to their apartment, and on all sides shone the gleaming +whiteness of marble, the reflection of mirrors and of polished copper. + +While Risler was parading his delight through all the rooms of the new +apartment, Sidonie remained alone in her bedroom. By the light of the +little blue lamp hanging from the ceiling, she glanced first of all at +the mirror, which gave back her reflection from head to foot, at all her +luxurious surroundings, so unfamiliar to her; then, instead of going +to bed, she opened the window and stood leaning against the sill, +motionless as a statue. + +The night was clear and warm. She could see distinctly the whole +factory, its innumerable unshaded windows, its glistening panes, its +tall chimney losing itself in the depths of the sky, and nearer at hand +the lovely little garden against the ancient wall of the former mansion. +All about were gloomy, miserable roofs and squalid streets. Suddenly +she started. Yonder, in the darkest, the ugliest of all those attics +crowding so closely together, leaning against one another, as if +overweighted with misery, a fifth-floor window stood wide open, showing +only darkness within. She recognized it at once. It was the window of +the landing on which her parents lived. + +The window on the landing! + +How many things the mere name recalled! How many hours, how many +days she had passed there, leaning on that damp sill, without rail or +balcony, looking toward the factory. At that moment she fancied that she +could see up yonder little Chebe's ragged person, and in the frame made +by that poor window, her whole child life, her deplorable youth as a +Parisian street arab, passed before her eyes. + + + + +CHAPTER II. LITTLE CHEBE'S STORY + +In Paris the common landing is like an additional room, an enlargement +of their abodes, to poor families confined in their too small +apartments. They go there to get a breath of air in summer, and there +the women talk and the children play. + +When little Chebe made too much noise in the house, her mother would say +to her: "There there! you bother me, go and play on the landing." And +the child would go quickly enough. + +This landing, on the upper floor of an old house in which space had not +been spared, formed a sort of large lobby, with a high ceiling, guarded +on the staircase side by a wrought-iron rail, lighted by a large window +which looked out upon roofs, courtyards, and other windows, and, farther +away, upon the garden of the Fromont factory, which was like a green +oasis among the huge old walls. + +There was nothing very cheerful about it, but the child liked it much +better than her own home. Their rooms were dismal, especially when it +rained and Ferdinand did not go out. + +With his brain always smoking with new ideas, which unfortunately +never came to anything, Ferdinand Chebe was one of those slothful, +project-devising bourgeois of when there are so many in Paris. His +wife, whom he had dazzled at first, had soon detected his utter +insignificance, and had ended by enduring patiently and with unchanged +demeanor his continual dreams of wealth and the disasters that +immediately followed them. + +Of the dot of eighty thousand francs which she had brought him, and +which he had squandered in his absurd schemes, only a small annuity +remained, which still gave them a position of some importance in the +eyes of their neighbors, as did Madame Chebe's cashmere, which had been +rescued from every wreck, her wedding laces and two diamond studs, very +tiny and very modest, which Sidonie sometimes begged her mother to show +her, as they lay in the drawer of the bureau, in an old-fashioned white +velvet case, on which the jeweller's name, in gilt letters, thirty years +old, was gradually fading. That was the only bit of luxury in that poor +annuitant's abode. + +For a very long time M. Chebe had sought a place which would enable him +to eke out their slender income. But he sought it only in what he called +standing business, his health forbidding any occupation that required +him to be seated. + +It seemed that, soon after his marriage, when he was in a flourishing +business and had a horse and tilbury of his own, the little man had +had one day a serious fall. That fall, to which he referred upon every +occasion, served as an excuse for his indolence. + +One could not be with M. Chebe five minutes before he would say in a +confidential tone: + +"You know of the accident that happened to the Duc d'Orleans?" + +And then he would add, tapping his little bald pate "The same thing +happened to me in my youth." + +Since that famous fall any sort of office work made him dizzy, and he +had found himself inexorably confined to standing business. Thus, he had +been in turn a broker in wines, in books, in truffles, in clocks, and +in many other things beside. Unluckily, he tired of everything, never +considered his position sufficiently exalted for a former business man +with a tilbury, and, by gradual degrees, by dint of deeming every sort +of occupation beneath him, he had grown old and incapable, a genuine +idler with low tastes, a good-for-nothing. + +Artists are often rebuked for their oddities, for the liberties they +take with nature, for that horror of the conventional which impels them +to follow by-paths; but who can ever describe all the absurd fancies, +all the idiotic eccentricities with which a bourgeois without occupation +can succeed in filling the emptiness of his life? M. Chebe imposed upon +himself certain rules concerning his goings and comings, and his walks +abroad. While the Boulevard Sebastopol was being built, he went twice a +day "to see how it was getting on." + +No one knew better than he the fashionable shops and the bargains; and +very often Madame Chebe, annoyed to see her husband's idiotic face at +the window while she was energetically mending the family linen, would +rid herself of him by giving him an errand to do. "You know that place, +on the corner of such a street, where they sell such nice cakes. They +would be nice for our dessert." + +And the husband would go out, saunter along the boulevard by the shops, +wait for the omnibus, and pass half the day in procuring two cakes, +worth three sous, which he would bring home in triumph, wiping his +forehead. + +M. Chebe adored the summer, the Sundays, the great footraces in the dust +at Clamart or Romainville, the excitement of holidays and the crowd. He +was one of those who went about for a whole week before the fifteenth +of August, gazing at the black lamps and their frames, and the +scaffoldings. Nor did his wife complain. At all events, she no longer +had that chronic grumbler prowling around her chair for whole days, +with schemes for gigantic enterprises, combinations that missed fire in +advance, lamentations concerning the past, and a fixed determination not +to work at anything to earn money. + +She no longer earned anything herself, poor woman; but she knew so well +how to save, her wonderful economy made up so completely for everything +else, that absolute want, although a near neighbor of such impecuniosity +as theirs, never succeeded in making its way into those three rooms, +which were always neat and clean, or in destroying the carefully mended +garments or the old furniture so well concealed beneath its coverings. + +Opposite the Chebes' door, whose copper knob gleamed in bourgeois +fashion upon the landing, were two other and smaller ones. + +On the first, a visiting-card, held in place by four nails, according to +the custom in vogue among industrial artists, bore the name of + + RISLER + DESIGNER OF PATTERNS. + +On the other was a small square of leather, with these words in gilt +letters: + + MESDAMES DELOBELLE + BIRDS AND INSECTS FOR ORNAMENT. + +The Delobelles' door was often open, disclosing a large room with a +brick floor, where two women, mother and daughter, the latter almost +a child, each as weary and as pale as the other, worked at one of the +thousand fanciful little trades which go to make up what is called the +'Articles de Paris'. + +It was then the fashion to ornament hats and ballgowns with the lovely +little insects from South America that have the brilliant coloring of +jewels and reflect the light like diamonds. The Delobelles had adopted +that specialty. + +A wholesale house, to which consignments were made directly from the +Antilles, sent to them, unopened, long, light boxes from which, when +the lid was removed, arose a faint odor, a dust of arsenic through which +gleamed the piles of insects, impaled before being shipped, the birds +packed closely together, their wings held in place by a strip of thin +paper. They must all be mounted--the insects quivering upon brass wire, +the humming-birds with their feathers ruffled; they must be cleansed and +polished, the beak in a bright red, claw repaired with a silk thread, +dead eyes replaced with sparkling pearls, and the insect or the bird +restored to an appearance of life and grace. The mother prepared the +work under her daughter's direction; for Desiree, though she was still a +mere girl, was endowed with exquisite taste, with a fairy-like power of +invention, and no one could, insert two pearl eyes in those tiny heads +or spread their lifeless wings so deftly as she. Happy or unhappy, +Desiree always worked with the same energy. From dawn until well into +the night the table was covered with work. At the last ray of daylight, +when the factory bells were ringing in all the neighboring yards, Madame +Delobelle lighted the lamp, and after a more than frugal repast they +returned to their work. Those two indefatigable women had one object, +one fixed idea, which prevented them from feeling the burden of enforced +vigils. That idea was the dramatic renown of the illustrious Delobelle. +After he had left the provincial theatres to pursue his profession +in Paris, Delobelle waited for an intelligent manager, the ideal and +providential manager who discovers geniuses, to seek him out and offer +him a role suited to his talents. He might, perhaps, especially at the +beginning, have obtained a passably good engagement at a theatre of the +third order, but Delobelle did not choose to lower himself. + +He preferred to wait, to struggle, as he said! And this is how he +awaited the struggle. + +In the morning in his bedroom, often in his bed, he rehearsed roles in +his former repertory; and the Delobelle ladies trembled with emotion +when they heard behind the partition tirades from 'Antony' or the +'Medecin des Enfants', declaimed in a sonorous voice that blended with +the thousand-and-one noises of the great Parisian bee-hive. Then, after +breakfast, the actor would sally forth for the day; would go to "do his +boulevard," that is to say, to saunter to and fro between the Chateau +d'Eau and the Madeline, with a toothpick in the corner of his mouth, his +hat a little on one side-always gloved, and brushed, and glossy. + +That question of dress was of great importance in his eyes. It was one +of the greatest elements of success, a bait for the manager--the famous, +intelligent manager--who never would dream of engaging a threadbare, +shabbily dressed man. + +So the Delobelle ladies took good care that he lacked nothing; and you +can imagine how many birds and insects it required to fit out a blade of +that temper! The actor thought it the most natural thing in the world. + +In his view, the labors, the privations of his wife and daughter were +not, strictly speaking, for his benefit, but for the benefit of that +mysterious and unknown genius, whose trustee he considered himself to +be. + +There was a certain analogy between the position of the Chebe family and +that of the Delobelles. But the latter household was less depressing. +The Chebes felt that their petty annuitant existence was fastened +upon them forever, with no prospect of amelioration, always the +same; whereas, in the actor's family, hope and illusion often opened +magnificent vistas. + +The Chebes were like people living in a blind alley; the Delobelles on +a foul little street, where there was no light or air, but where a great +boulevard might some day be laid out. And then, too, Madame Chebe no +longer believed in her husband, whereas, by virtue of that single magic +word, "Art!" her neighbor never had doubted hers. + +And yet for years and years Monsieur Delobelle had been unavailingly +drinking vermouth with dramatic agents, absinthe with leaders of +claques, bitters with vaudevillists, dramatists, and the famous +what's-his-name, author of several great dramas. Engagements did not +always follow. So that, without once appearing on the boards, the poor +man had progressed from jeune premier to grand premier roles, then to +the financiers, then to the noble fathers, then to the buffoons-- + +He stopped there! + +On two or three occasions his friends had obtained for him a chance to +earn his living as manager of a club or a cafe as an inspector in great +warehouses, at the 'Phares de la Bastille' or the 'Colosse de Rhodes.' +All that was necessary was to have good manners. Delobelle was not +lacking in that respect, God knows! And yet every suggestion that was +made to him the great man met with a heroic refusal. + +"I have no right to abandon the stage!" he would then assert. + +In the mouth of that poor devil, who had not set foot on the boards +for years, it was irresistibly comical. But one lost the inclination +to laugh when one saw his wife and his daughter swallowing particles of +arsenic day and night, and heard them repeat emphatically as they broke +their needles against the brass wire with which the little birds were +mounted: + +"No! no! Monsieur Delobelle has no right to abandon the stage." + +Happy man, whose bulging eyes, always smiling condescendingly, and +whose habit of reigning on the stage had procured for him for life that +exceptional position of a spoiled and admired child-king! When he left +the house, the shopkeepers on the Rue des Francs-Bourgeois, with the +predilection of the Parisian for everything and everybody connected with +the theatre, saluted him respectfully. He was always so well dressed! +And then he was so kind, so obliging! When you think that every Saturday +night, he, Ruy Blas, Antony, Raphael in the 'Filles de Maybre,' Andres +in the 'Pirates de la Savane,' sallied forth, with a bandbox under +his arm, to carry the week's work of his wife and daughter to a flower +establishment on the Rue St.-Denis! + +Why, even when performing such a commission as that, this devil of a +fellow had such nobility of bearing, such native dignity, that the young +woman whose duty it was to make up the Delobelle account was sorely +embarrassed to hand to such an irreproachable gentleman the paltry +stipend so laboriously earned. + +On those evenings, by the way, the actor did not return home to dinner. +The women were forewarned. + +He always met some old comrade on the boulevard, some unlucky devil like +himself--there are so many of them in that sacred profession!--whom he +entertained at a restaurant or cafe. Then, with scrupulous fidelity--and +very grateful they were to him--he would carry the rest of the money +home, sometimes with a bouquet for his wife or a little present for +Desiree, a nothing, a mere trifle. What would you have? Those are the +customs of the stage. It is such a simple matter in a melodrama to toss +a handful of louis through the window! + +"Ho! varlet, take this purse and hie thee hence to tell thy mistress I +await her coming." + +And so, notwithstanding their marvellous courage, and although their +trade was quite lucrative, the Delobelles often found themselves in +straitened circumstances, especially in the dull season of the 'Articles +de Paris.' + +Luckily the excellent Risler was at hand, always ready to accommodate +his friends. + +Guillaume Risler, the third tenant on the landing, lived with his +brother Frantz, who was fifteen years his junior. The two young Swiss, +tall and fair, strong and ruddy, brought into the dismal, hard-working +house glimpses of the country and of health. The elder was a draughtsman +at the Fromont factory and was paying for the education of his brother, +who attended Chaptal's lectures, pending his admission to the Ecole +Centrale. + +On his arrival at Paris, being sadly perplexed as to the installation of +his little household, Guillaume had derived from his neighbors, Mesdames +Chebe and Delobelle, advice and information which were an indispensable +aid to that ingenuous, timid, somewhat heavy youth, embarrassed by his +foreign accent and manner. After a brief period of neighborhood and +mutual services, the Risler brothers formed a part of both families. + +On holidays places were always made for them at one table or the other, +and it was a great satisfaction to the two exiles to find in those poor +households, modest and straitened as they were, a taste of affection and +family life. + +The wages of the designer, who was very clever at his trade, enabled +him to be of service to the Delobelles on rent-day, and to make his +appearance at the Chebes' in the guise of the rich uncle, always laden +with surprises and presents, so that the little girl, as soon as she saw +him, would explore his pockets and climb on his knees. + +On Sunday he would take them all to the theatre; and almost every +evening he would go with Messieurs Chebe and Delobelle to a brewery on +the Rue Blondel, where he regaled them with beer and pretzels. Beer and +pretzels were his only vice. + +For his own part, he knew no greater bliss than to sit before a foaming +tankard, between his two friends, listening to their talk, and taking +part only by a loud laugh or a shake of the head in their conversation, +which was usually a long succession of grievances against society. + +A childlike shyness, and the Germanisms of speech which he never had +laid aside in his life of absorbing toil, embarrassed him much in giving +expression to his ideas. Moreover, his friends overawed him. They had +in respect to him the tremendous superiority of the man who does nothing +over the man who works; and M. Chebe, less generous than Delobelle, did +not hesitate to make him feel it. He was very lofty with him, was M. +Chebe! In his opinion, a man who worked, as Risler did, ten hours a day, +was incapable, when he left his work, of expressing an intelligent idea. +Sometimes the designer, coming home worried from the factory, would +prepare to spend the night over some pressing work. You should have seen +M. Chebe's scandalized expression then! + +"Nobody could make me follow such a business!" he would say, expanding +his chest, and he would add, looking at Risler with the air of a +physician making a professional call, "Just wait till you've had one +severe attack." + +Delobelle was not so fierce, but he adopted a still loftier tone. The +cedar does not see a rose at its foot. Delobelle did not see Risler at +his feet. + +When, by chance, the great man deigned to notice his presence, he had a +certain air of stooping down to him to listen, and to smile at his words +as at a child's; or else he would amuse himself by dazzling him with +stories of actresses, would give him lessons in deportment and the +addresses of outfitters, unable to understand why a man who earned so +much money should always be dressed like an usher at a primary +school. Honest Risler, convinced of his inferiority, would try to earn +forgiveness by a multitude of little attentions, obliged to furnish all +the delicacy, of course, as he was the constant benefactor. + +Among these three households living on the same floor, little Chebe, +with her goings and comings, formed the bond of union. + +At all times of day she would slip into the workroom of the Delobelles, +amuse herself by watching their work and looking at all the insects, +and, being already more coquettish than playful, if an insect had lost +a wing in its travels, or a humming-bird its necklace of down, she would +try to make herself a headdress of the remains, to fix that brilliant +shaft of color among the ripples of her silky hair. It made Desiree +and her mother smile to see her stand on tiptoe in front of the old +tarnished mirror, with affected little shrugs and grimaces. Then, when +she had had enough of admiring herself, the child would open the door +with all the strength of her little fingers, and would go demurely, +holding her head perfectly straight for fear of disarranging her +headdress, and knock at the Rislers' door. + +No one was there in the daytime but Frantz the student, leaning over his +books, doing his duty faithfully. But when Sidonie enters, farewell to +study! Everything must be put aside to receive that lovely creature with +the humming-bird in her hair, pretending to be a princess who had come +to Chaptal's school to ask his hand in marriage from the director. + +It was really a strange sight to see that tall, overgrown boy playing +with that little girl of eight, humoring her caprices, adoring her as he +yielded to her, so that later, when he fell genuinely in love with her, +no one could have said at what time the change began. + +Petted as she was in those two homes, little Chebe was very fond of +running to the window on the landing. There it was that she found her +greatest source of entertainment, a horizon always open, a sort of +vision of the future toward which she leaned with eager curiosity and +without fear, for children are not subject to vertigo. + +Between the slated roofs sloping toward one another, the high wall +of the factory, the tops of the plane-trees in the garden, the +many-windowed workshops appeared to her like a promised land, the +country of her dreams. + +That Fromont establishment was to her mind the highest ideal of wealth. + +The place it occupied in that part of the Marais, which was at certain +hours enveloped by its smoke and its din, Risler's enthusiasm, his +fabulous tales concerning his employer's wealth and goodness and +cleverness, had aroused that childish curiosity; and such portions as +she could see of the dwelling-houses, the carved wooden blinds, the +circular front steps, with the garden-seats before them, a great white +bird-house with gilt stripes glistening in the sun, the blue-lined coupe +standing in the courtyard, were to her objects of continual admiration. + +She knew all the habits of the family: At what hour the bell was rung, +when the workmen went away, the Saturday payday which kept the cashier's +little lamp lighted late in the evening, and the long Sunday afternoon, +the closed workshops, the smokeless chimney, the profound silence which +enabled her to hear Mademoiselle Claire at play in the garden, running +about with her cousin Georges. From Risler she obtained details. + +"Show me the salon windows," she would say to him, "and Claire's room." + +Risler, delighted by this extraordinary interest in his beloved factory, +would explain to the child from their lofty position the arrangement +of the buildings, point out the print-shop, the gilding-shop, the +designing-room where he worked, the engine-room, above which towered +that enormous chimney blackening all the neighboring walls with its +corrosive smoke, and which never suspected that a young life, concealed +beneath a neighboring roof, mingled its inmost thoughts with its loud, +indefatigable panting. + +At last one day Sidonie entered that paradise of which she had +heretofore caught only a glimpse. + +Madame Fromont, to whom Risler often spoke of her little neighbor's +beauty and intelligence, asked him to bring her to the children's ball +she intended to give at Christmas. At first Monsieur Chebe replied by a +curt refusal. Even in those days, the Fromonts, whose name was always on +Rider's lips, irritated and humiliated him by their wealth. Moreover, it +was to be a fancy ball, and M. Chebe--who did not sell wallpapers, not +he!--could not afford to dress his daughter as a circus-dancer. But +Risler insisted, declared that he would get everything himself, and at +once set about designing a costume. + +It was a memorable evening. + +In Madame Chebe's bedroom, littered with pieces of cloth and pins and +small toilet articles, Desiree Delobelle superintended Sidonie's toilet. +The child, appearing taller because of her short skirt of red flannel +with black stripes, stood before the mirror, erect and motionless, in +the glittering splendor of her costume. She was charming. The waist, +with bands of velvet laced over the white stomacher, the lovely, long +tresses of chestnut hair escaping from a hat of plaited straw, all +the trivial details of her Savoyard's costume were heightened by the +intelligent features of the child, who was quite at her ease in the +brilliant colors of that theatrical garb. + +The whole assembled neighborhood uttered cries of admiration. While some +one went in search of Delobelle, the lame girl arranged the folds of +the skirt, the bows on the shoes, and cast a final glance over her work, +without laying aside her needle; she, too, was excited, poor child! by +the intoxication of that festivity to which she was not invited. +The great man arrived. He made Sidonie rehearse two or three stately +curtseys which he had taught her, the proper way to walk, to stand, to +smile with her mouth slightly open, and the exact position of the little +finger. It was truly amusing to see the precision with which the child +went through the drill. + +"She has dramatic blood in her veins!" exclaimed the old actor +enthusiastically, unable to understand why that stupid Frantz was +strongly inclined to weep. + +A year after that happy evening Sidonie could have told you what flowers +there were in the reception rooms, the color of the furniture, and +the music they were playing as she entered the ballroom, so deep an +impression did her enjoyment make upon her. She forgot nothing, neither +the costumes that made an eddying whirl about her, nor the childish +laughter, nor all the tiny steps that glided over the polished floors. +For a moment, as she sat on the edge of a great red-silk couch, taking +from the plate presented to her the first sherbet of her life, she +suddenly thought of the dark stairway, of her parents' stuffy little +rooms, and it produced upon her mind the effect of a distant country +which she had left forever. + +However, she was considered a fascinating little creature, and was much +admired and petted. Claire Fromont, a miniature Cauchoise dressed in +lace, presented her to her cousin Georges, a magnificent hussar who +turned at every step to observe the effect of his sabre. + +"You understand, Georges, she is my friend. She is coming to play with +us Sundays. Mamma says she may." + +And, with the artless impulsiveness of a happy child, she kissed little +Chebe with all her heart. + +But the time came to go. For a long time, in the filthy street where the +snow was melting, in the dark hall, in the silent room where her mother +awaited her, the brilliant light of the salons continued to shine before +her dazzled eyes. + +"Was it very fine? Did you have a charming time?" queried Madame Chebe +in a low tone, unfastening the buckles of the gorgeous costume, one by +one. + +And Sidonie, overcome with fatigue, made no reply, but fell asleep +standing, beginning a lovely dream which was to last throughout her +youth and cost her many tears. + +Claire Fromont kept her word. Sidonie often went to play in the +beautiful gravelled garden, and was able to see at close range the +carved blinds and the dovecot with its threads of gold. She came to know +all the corners and hiding-places in the great factory, and took part in +many glorious games of hide-and-seek behind the printing-tables in the +solitude of Sunday afternoon. On holidays a plate was laid for her at +the children's table. + +Everybody loved her, although she never exhibited much affection for any +one. So long as she was in the midst of that luxury, she was conscious +of softer impulses, she was happy and felt that she was embellished by +her surroundings; but when she returned to her parents, when she saw the +factory through the dirty panes of the window on the landing, she had an +inexplicable feeling of regret and anger. + +And yet Claire Fromont treated her as a friend. + +Sometimes they took her to the Bois, to the Tuileries, in the famous +blue-lined carriage, or into the country, to pass a whole week at +Grandfather Gardinois's chateau, at Savigny-sur-Orge. Thanks to the +munificence of Risler, who was very proud of his little one's success, +she was always presentable and well dressed. Madame Chebe made it a +point of honor, and the pretty, lame girl was always at hand to place +her treasures of unused coquetry at her little friend's service. + +But M. Chebe, who was always hostile to the Fromonts, looked frowningly +upon this growing intimacy. The true reason was that he himself never +was invited; but he gave other reasons, and would say to his wife: + +"Don't you see that your daughter's heart is sad when she returns from +that house, and that she passes whole hours dreaming at the window?" + +But poor Madame Chebe, who had been so unhappy ever since her marriage, +had become reckless. She declared that one should make the most of the +present for fear of the future, should seize happiness as it passes, as +one often has no other support and consolation in life than the memory +of a happy childhood. + +For once it happened that M. Chebe was right. + + + + +CHAPTER III. THE FALSE PEARLS + +After two or three years of intimacy with Claire, of sharing her +amusements, years during which Sidonie acquired the familiarity with +luxury and the graceful manners of the children of the wealthy, the +friendship was suddenly broken. + +Cousin Georges, whose guardian M. Fromont was, had entered college some +time before. Claire in her turn took her departure for the convent with +the outfit of a little queen; and at that very time the Chebes were +discussing the question of apprenticing Sidonie to some trade. They +promised to love each other as before and to meet twice a month, on the +Sundays that Claire was permitted to go home. + +Indeed, little Chebe did still go down sometimes to play with her +friends; but as she grew older she realized more fully the distance that +separated them, and her clothes began to seem to her very simple for +Madame Fromont's salon. + +When the three were alone, the childish friendship which made them +equals prevented any feeling of embarrassment; but visitors came, +girl friends from the convent, among others a tall girl, always richly +dressed, whom her mother's maid used to bring to play with the little +Fromonts on Sunday. + +As soon as she saw her coming up the steps, resplendent and disdainful, +Sidonie longed to go away at once. The other embarrassed her with +awkward questions. Where did she live? What did her parents do? Had she +a carriage? + +As she listened to their talk of the convent and their friends, Sidonie +felt that they lived in a different world, a thousand miles from her +own; and a deathly sadness seized her, especially when, on her return +home, her mother spoke of sending her as an apprentice to Mademoiselle +Le Mire, a friend of the Delobelles, who conducted a large false-pearl +establishment on the Rue du Roi-Dore. + +Risler insisted upon the plan of having the little one serve an +apprenticeship. "Let her learn a trade," said the honest fellow. "Later +I will undertake to set her up in business." + +Indeed, this same Mademoiselle Le Mire spoke of retiring in a few years. +It was an excellent opportunity. + +One morning, a dull day in November, her father took her to the Rue du +Rio-Dore, to the fourth floor of an old house, even older and blacker +than her own home. + +On the ground floor, at the entrance to the hall, hung a number of signs +with gilt letters: Depot for Travelling-Bags, Plated Chains, Children's +Toys, Mathematical Instruments in Glass, Bouquets for Brides and +Maids of Honor, Wild Flowers a Specialty; and above was a little dusty +show-case, wherein pearls, yellow with age, glass grapes and cherries +surrounded the pretentious name of Angelina Le Mire. + +What a horrible house! + +It had not even a broad landing like that of the Chebes, grimy with old +age, but brightened by its window and the beautiful prospect presented +by the factory. A narrow staircase, a narrow door, a succession of rooms +with brick floors, all small and cold, and in the last an old maid +with a false front and black thread mitts, reading a soiled copy of the +'Journal pour Tous,' and apparently very much annoyed to be disturbed in +her reading. + +Mademoiselle Le Mire (written in two words) received the father and +daughter without rising, discoursed at great length of the rank she +had lost, of her father, an old nobleman of Le Rouergue--it is most +extraordinary how many old noblemen Le Rouergue has produced!--and of +an unfaithful steward who had carried off their whole fortune. +She instantly aroused the sympathies of M. Chebe, for whom decayed +gentlefolk had an irresistible charm, and he went away overjoyed, +promising his daughter to call for her at seven o'clock at night in +accordance with the terms agreed upon. + +The apprentice was at once ushered into the still empty workroom. +Mademoiselle Le Mire seated her in front of a great drawer filled with +pearls, needles, and bodkins, with instalments of four-sou novels thrown +in at random among them. + +It was Sidonie's business to sort the pearls and string them in +necklaces of equal length, which were tied together to be sold to the +small dealers. Then the young women would soon be there and they would +show her exactly what she would have to do, for Mademoiselle Le Mire +(always written in two words!) did not interfere at all, but overlooked +her business from a considerable distance, from that dark room where she +passed her life reading newspaper novels. + +At nine o'clock the work-women arrived, five tall, pale-faced, faded +girls, wretchedly dressed, but with their hair becomingly arranged, +after the fashion of poor working-girls who go about bare-headed through +the streets of Paris. + +Two or three were yawning and rubbing their eyes, saying that they were +dead with sleep. + +At last they went to work beside a long table where each had her own +drawer and her own tools. An order had been received for mourning +jewels, and haste was essential. Sidonie, whom the forewoman instructed +in her task in a tone of infinite superiority, began dismally to sort a +multitude of black pearls, bits of glass, and wisps of crape. + +The others, paying no attention to the little girl, chatted together as +they worked. They talked of a wedding that was to take place that very +day at St. Gervais. + +"Suppose we go," said a stout, red-haired girl, whose name was Malvina. +"It's to be at noon. We shall have time to go and get back again if we +hurry." + +And, at the lunch hour, the whole party rushed downstairs four steps at +a time. + +Sidonie had brought her luncheon in a little basket, like a school-girl; +with a heavy heart she sat at a corner of the table and ate alone for +the first time in her life. Great God! what a sad and wretched thing +life seemed to be; what a terrible revenge she would take hereafter for +her sufferings there! + +At one o'clock the girls trooped noisily back, highly excited. + +"Did you see the white satin gown? And the veil of point d'Angleterre? +There's a lucky girl!" + +Thereupon they repeated in the workroom the remarks they had made in +undertones in the church, leaning against the rail, throughout the +ceremony. That question of a wealthy marriage, of beautiful clothes, +lasted all day long; nor did it interfere with their work-far from it. + +These small Parisian industries, which have to do with the most trivial +details of the toilet, keep the work-girls informed as to the fashions +and fill their minds with thoughts of luxury and elegance. To the poor +girls who worked on Mademoiselle Le Mire's fourth floor, the blackened +walls, the narrow street did not exist. They were always thinking of +something else and passed their lives asking one another: + +"Malvina, if you were rich what would you do? For my part, I'd live on +the Champs-Elysees." And the great trees in the square, the carriages +that wheeled about there, coquettishly slackening their pace, appeared +momentarily before their minds, a delicious, refreshing vision. + +Little Chebe, in her corner, listened without speaking, industriously +stringing her black grapes with the precocious dexterity and taste she +had acquired in Desiree's neighborhood. So that in the evening, when M. +Chebe came to fetch his daughter, they praised her in the highest terms. + +Thereafter all her days were alike. The next day, instead of black +pearls, she strung white pearls and bits of false coral; for at +Mademoiselle Le Mire's they worked only in what was false, in tinsel, +and that was where little Chebe was to serve her apprenticeship to life. + +For some time the new apprentice-being younger and better bred than the +others--found that they held aloof from her. Later, as she grew older, +she was admitted to their friendship and their confidence, but without +ever sharing their pleasures. She was too proud to go to see weddings +at midday; and when she heard them talking of a ball at Vauxhall or the +'Delices du Marais,' or of a nice little supper at Bonvalet's or at the +'Quatre Sergents de la Rochelle,' she was always very disdainful. + +We looked higher than that, did we not, little Chebe? + +Moreover, her father called for her every evening. Sometimes, however, +about the New Year, she was obliged to work late with the others, in +order to complete pressing orders. In the gaslight those pale-faced +Parisians, sorting pearls as white as themselves, of a dead, unwholesome +whiteness, were a painful spectacle. There was the same fictitious +glitter, the same fragility of spurious jewels. They talked of nothing +but masked balls and theatres. + +"Have you seen Adele Page, in 'Les Trois Mousquetaires?' And Melingue? +And Marie Laurent? Oh! Marie Laurent!" + +The actors' doublets, the embroidered costumes of the queens of +melodrama, appeared before them in the white light of the necklaces +forming beneath their fingers. + +In summer the work was less pressing. It was the dull season. In the +intense heat, when through the drawn blinds fruit-sellers could be heard +in the street, crying their mirabelles and Queen Claudes, the workgirls +slept heavily, their heads on the table. Or perhaps Malvina would go and +ask Mademoiselle Le Mire for a copy of the 'Journal pour Tous,' and read +aloud to the others. + +But little Chebe did not care for the novels. She carried one in her +head much more interesting than all that trash. + +The fact is, nothing could make her forget the factory. When she set +forth in the morning on her father's arm, she always cast a glance in +that direction. At that hour the works were just stirring, the chimney +emitted its first puff of black smoke. Sidonie, as she passed, could +hear the shouts of the workmen, the dull, heavy blows of the bars of +the printing-press, the mighty, rhythmical hum of the machinery; and all +those sounds of toil, blended in her memory with recollections of fetes +and blue-lined carriages, haunted her persistently. + +They spoke louder than the rattle of the omnibuses, the street cries, +the cascades in the gutters; and even in the workroom, when she was +sorting the false pearls even at night, in her own home, when she went, +after dinner, to breathe the fresh air at the window on the landing and +to gaze at the dark, deserted factory, that murmur still buzzed in her +ears, forming, as it were, a continual accompaniment to her thoughts. + +"The little one is tired, Madame Chebe. She needs diversion. Next Sunday +I will take you all into the country." + +These Sunday excursions, which honest Risler organized to amuse Sidonie, +served only to sadden her still more. + +On those days she must rise at four o'clock in the morning; for the poor +must pay for all their enjoyments, and there was always a ribbon to +be ironed at the last moment, or a bit of trimming to be sewn on in +an attempt to rejuvenate the everlasting little lilac frock with white +stripes which Madame Chebe conscientiously lengthened every year. + +They would all set off together, the Chebes, the Rislers, and the +illustrious Delobelle. Only Desiree and her mother never were of the +party. The poor, crippled child, ashamed of her deformity, never would +stir from her chair, and Mamma Delobelle stayed behind to keep her +company. Moreover, neither possessed a suitable gown in which to +show herself out-of-doors in their great man's company; it would have +destroyed the whole effect of his appearance. + +When they left the house, Sidonie would brighten up a little. Paris in +the pink haze of a July morning, the railway stations filled with light +dresses, the country flying past the car windows, and the healthful +exercise, the bath in the pure air saturated with the water of the +Seine, vivified by a bit of forest, perfumed by flowering meadows, by +ripening grain, all combined to make her giddy for a moment. But that +sensation was soon succeeded by disgust at such a commonplace way of +passing her Sunday. + +It was always the same thing. + +They stopped at a refreshment booth, in close proximity to a very noisy +and numerously attended rustic festival, for there must be an audience +for Delobelle, who would saunter along, absorbed by his chimera, dressed +in gray, with gray gaiters, a little hat over his ear, a light top coat +on his arm, imagining that the stage represented a country scene in +the suburbs of Paris, and that he was playing the part of a Parisian +sojourning in the country. + +As for M. Chebe, who prided himself on being as fond of nature as +the late Jean Jacques Rousseau, he did not appreciate it without the +accompaniments of shooting-matches, wooden horses, sack races, and a +profusion of dust and penny-whistles, which constituted also Madame +Chebe's ideal of a country life. + +But Sidonie had a different ideal; and those Parisian Sundays passed in +strolling through noisy village streets depressed her beyond measure. +Her only pleasure in those throngs was the consciousness of being stared +at. The veriest boor's admiration, frankly expressed aloud at her side, +made her smile all day; for she was of those who disdain no compliment. + +Sometimes, leaving the Chebes and Delobelle in the midst of the fete, +Risler would go into the fields with his brother and the "little one" +in search of flowers for patterns for his wall-papers. Frantz, with his +long arms, would pull down the highest branches of a hawthorn, or would +climb a park wall to pick a leaf of graceful shape he had spied on the +other side. But they reaped their richest harvests on the banks of the +stream. + +There they found those flexible plants, with long swaying stalks, which +made such a lovely effect on hangings, tall, straight reeds, and the +volubilis, whose flower, opening suddenly as if in obedience to a +caprice, resembles a living face, some one looking at you amid the +lovely, quivering foliage. Risler arranged his bouquets artistically, +drawing his inspiration from the very nature of the plants, trying to +understand thoroughly their manner of life, which can not be divined +after the withering of one day. + +Then, when the bouquet was completed, tied with a broad blade of grass +as with a ribbon, and slung over Frantz's back, away they went. Risler, +always engrossed in his art, looked about for subjects, for possible +combinations, as they walked along. + +"Look there, little one--see that bunch of lily of the valley, with its +white bells, among those eglantines. What do you think? Wouldn't that be +pretty against a sea-green or pearl-gray background?" + +But Sidonie cared no more for lilies of the valley than for eglantine. +Wild flowers always seemed to her like the flowers of the poor, +something like her lilac dress. + +She remembered that she had seen flowers of a different sort at the +house of M. Gardinois, at the Chateau de Savigny, in the hothouses, on +the balconies, and all about the gravelled courtyard bordered with +tall urns. Those were the flowers she loved; that was her idea of the +country! + +The little stations in the outskirts of Paris are so terribly crowded +and stuffy on those Sunday evenings in summer! Such artificial +enjoyment, such idiotic laughter, such doleful ballads, sung in whispers +by voices that no longer have the strength to roar! That was the time +when M. Chebe was in his element. + +He would elbow his way to the gate, scold about the delay of the train, +declaim against the station-agent, the company, the government; say to +Delobelle in a loud voice, so as to be overheard by his neighbors: + +"I say--suppose such a thing as this should happen in America!" Which +remark, thanks to the expressive by-play of the illustrious actor, and +to the superior air with which he replied, "I believe you!" gave those +who stood near to understand that these gentlemen knew exactly what +would happen in America in such a case. Now, they were equally and +entirely ignorant on that subject; but upon the crowd their words made +an impression. + +Sitting beside Frantz, with half of his bundle of flowers on her knees, +Sidonie would seem to be blotted out, as it were, amid the uproar, +during the long wait for the evening trains. From the station, lighted +by a single lamp, she could see the black clumps of trees outside, +lighted here and there by the last illuminations of the fete, a dark +village street, people continually coming in, and a lantern hanging on a +deserted pier. + +From time to time, on the other side of the glass doors, a train would +rush by without stopping, with a shower of hot cinders and the roar of +escaping steam. Thereupon a tempest of shouts and stamping would arise +in the station, and, soaring above all the rest, the shrill treble of M. +Chebe, shrieking in his sea-gull's voice: "Break down the doors! break +down the doors!"--a thing that the little man would have taken good care +not to do himself, as he had an abject fear of gendarmes. In a moment +the storm would abate. The tired women, their hair disarranged by the +wind, would fall asleep on the benches. There were torn and ragged +dresses, low-necked white gowns, covered with dust. + +The air they breathed consisted mainly of dust. It lay upon their +clothes, rose at every step, obscured the light of the lamp, vexed one's +eyes, and raised a sort of cloud before the tired faces. The cars which +they entered at last, after hours of waiting, were saturated with it +also. Sidonie would open the window, and look out at the dark fields, an +endless line of shadow. Then, like innumerable stars, the first lanterns +of the outer boulevards appeared near the fortifications. + +So ended the ghastly day of rest of all those poor creatures. The sight +of Paris brought back to each one's mind the thought of the morrow's +toil. Dismal as her Sunday had been, Sidonie began to regret that it +had passed. She thought of the rich, to whom all the days of their lives +were days of rest; and vaguely, as in a dream, the long park avenues of +which she had caught glimpses during the day appeared to her thronged +with those happy ones of earth, strolling on the fine gravel, while +outside the gate, in the dust of the highroad, the poor man's Sunday +hurried swiftly by, having hardly time to pause a moment to look and +envy. + +Such was little Chebe's life from thirteen to seventeen. + +The years passed, but did not bring with them the slightest change. +Madame Chebe's cashmere was a little more threadbare, the little lilac +frock had undergone a few additional repairs, and that was all. But, as +Sidonie grew older, Frantz, now become a young man, acquired a habit of +gazing at her silently with a melting expression, of paying her loving +attentions that were visible to everybody, and were unnoticed by none +save the girl herself. + +Indeed, nothing aroused the interest of little Chebe. In the work-room +she performed her task regularly, silently, without the slightest +thought of the future or of saving. All that she did seemed to be done +as if she were waiting for something. + +Frantz, on the other hand, had been working for some time with +extraordinary energy, the ardor of those who see something at the end of +their efforts; so that, at the age of twenty-four, he graduated second +in his class from the Ecole Centrale, as an engineer. + +On that evening Risler had taken the Chebe family to the Gymnase, and +throughout the evening he and Madame Chebe had been making signs and +winking at each other behind the children's backs. And when they left +the theatre Madame Chebe solemnly placed Sidonie's arm in Frantz's, as +if she would say to the lovelorn youth, "Now settle matters--here is +your chance." + +Thereupon the poor lover tried to settle matters. + +It is a long walk from the Gymnase to the Marais. After a very few +steps the brilliancy of the boulevard is left behind, the streets become +darker and darker, the passers more and more rare. Frantz began by +talking of the play. He was very fond of comedies of that sort, in which +there was plenty of sentiment. + +"And you, Sidonie?" + +"Oh! as for me, Frantz, you know that so long as there are fine +costumes--" + +In truth she thought of nothing else at the theatre. She was not one +of those sentimental creatures; a la Madame Bovary, who return from the +play with love-phrases ready-made, a conventional ideal. No! the theatre +simply made her long madly for luxury and fine raiment; she brought away +from it nothing but new methods of arranging the hair, and patterns of +gowns. The new, exaggerated toilettes of the actresses, their gait, +even the spurious elegance of their speech, which seemed to her of the +highest distinction, and with it all the tawdry magnificence of the +gilding and the lights, the gaudy placard at the door, the long line of +carriages, and all the somewhat unwholesome excitement that springs up +about a popular play; that was what she loved, that was what absorbed +her thoughts. + +"How well they acted their love-scene!" continued the lover. + +And, as he uttered that suggestive phrase, he bent fondly toward a +little face surrounded by a white woollen hood, from which the hair +escaped in rebellious curls. + +Sidonie sighed: + +"Oh! yes, the love-scene. The actress wore beautiful diamonds." + +There was a moment's silence. Poor Frantz had much difficulty in +explaining himself. The words he sought would not come, and then, too, +he was afraid. He fixed the time mentally when he would speak: + +"When we have passed the Porte Saint-Denis--when we have left the +boulevard." + +But when the time arrived, Sidonie began to talk of such indifferent +matters that his declaration froze on his lips, or else it was stopped +by a passing carriage, which enabled their elders to overtake them. + +At last, in the Marais, he suddenly took courage: + +"Listen to me, Sidonie--I love you!" + +That night the Delobelles had sat up very late. + +It was the habit of those brave-hearted women to make their working-day +as long as possible, to prolong it so far into the night that their lamp +was among the last to be extinguished on the quiet Rue de Braque. They +always sat up until the great man returned home, and kept a dainty +little supper warm for him in the ashes on the hearth. + +In the days when he was an actor there was some reason for that custom; +actors, being obliged to dine early and very sparingly, have a terrible +gnawing at their vitals when they leave the theatre, and usually eat +when they go home. Delobelle had not acted for a long time; but having, +as he said, no right to abandon the stage, he kept his mania alive by +clinging to a number of the strolling player's habits, and the supper on +returning home was one of them, as was his habit of delaying his return +until the last footlight in the boulevard theatres was extinguished. To +retire without supping, at the hour when all other artists supped, would +have been to abdicate, to abandon the struggle, and he would not abandon +it, sacre bleu! + +On the evening in question the actor had not yet come in and the women +were waiting for him, talking as they worked, and with great animation, +notwithstanding the lateness of the hour. During the whole evening they +had done nothing but talk of Frantz, of his success, of the future that +lay before him. + +"Now," said Mamma Delobelle, "the only thing he needs is to find a good +little wife." + +That was Desiree's opinion, too. That was all that was lacking now to +Frantz's happiness, a good little wife, active and brave and accustomed +to work, who would forget everything for him. And if Desiree spoke with +great confidence, it was because she was intimately acquainted with the +woman who was so well adapted to Frantz Risler's needs. She was only a +year younger than he, just enough to make her younger than her husband +and a mother to him at the same time. + +Pretty? + +No, not exactly, but attractive rather than ugly, notwithstanding her +infirmity, for she was lame, poor child! And then she was clever and +bright, and so loving! No one but Desiree knew how fondly that little +woman loved Frantz, and how she had thought of him night and day for +years. He had not noticed it himself, but seemed to have eyes for nobody +but Sidonie, a gamine. But no matter! Silent love is so eloquent, such +a mighty power lies hid in restrained feelings. Who knows? Perhaps some +day or other: + +And the little cripple, leaning over her work, started upon one of those +long journeys to the land of chimeras of which she had made so many +in her invalid's easychair, with her feet resting on the stool; one +of those wonderful journeys from which she always returned happy and +smiling, leaning on Frantz's arm with all the confidence of a beloved +wife. As her fingers followed her thought, the little bird she had in +her hand at the moment, smoothing his ruffled wings, looked as if he +too were of the party and were about to fly far, far away, as joyous and +light of heart as she. + +Suddenly the door flew open. + +"I do not disturb you?" said a triumphant voice. + +The mother, who was slightly drowsy, suddenly raised her head. + +"Ah! it's Monsieur Frantz. Pray come in, Monsieur Frantz. We're waiting +for father, as you see. These brigands of artists always stay out so +late! Take a seat--you shall have supper with him." + +"Oh! no, thank you," replied Frantz, whose lips were still pale from +the emotion he had undergone, "I can't stop. I saw a light and I just +stepped in to tell you--to tell you some great news that will make you +very happy, because I know that you love me--" + +"Great heavens, what is it?" + +"Monsieur Frantz Risler and Mademoiselle Sidonie are engaged to be +married." + +"There! didn't I say that all he needed was a good little wife," +exclaimed Mamma Delobelle, rising and throwing her arms about his neck. + +Desiree had not the strength to utter a word. She bent still lower +over her work, and as Frantz's eyes were fixed exclusively upon his +happiness, as Mamma Delobelle did nothing but look at the clock to see +whether her great man would return soon, no one noticed the lame girl's +emotion, nor her pallor, nor the convulsive trembling of the little bird +that lay in her hands with its head thrown back, like a bird with its +death-wound. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. THE GLOW-WORMS OF SAVIGNY + + +"SAVIGNY-SUR-ORGE. + +"DEAR SMONIE:--We were sitting at table yesterday in the great +dining-room which you remember, with the door wide open leading to the +terrace, where the flowers are all in bloom. I was a little bored. Dear +grandpapa had been cross all the morning, and poor mamma dared not say +a word, being afraid of those frowning eyebrows which have always +laid down the law for her. I was thinking what a pity it was to be so +entirely alone, in the middle of the summer, in such a lovely spot, and +that I should be very glad, now that I have left the convent, and am +destined to pass whole seasons in the country, to have as in the old +day, some one to run about the woods and paths with me. + +"To be sure, Georges comes occasionally, but he always arrives very +late, just in time for dinner, and is off again with my father in the +morning before I am awake. And then he is a serious-minded man now, +is Monsieur Georges. He works at the factory, and business cares often +bring frowns to his brow. + +"I had reached that point in my reflections when suddenly dear grandpapa +turned abruptly to me: + +"'What has become of your little friend Sidonie? I should be glad to +have her here for a time.' + +"You can imagine my delight. What happiness to meet again, to renew the +pleasant friendship that was broken off by the fault of the events of +life rather than by our own! How many things we shall have to tell +each other! You, who alone had the knack of driving the frowns from my +terrible grandpapa's brow, will bring us gayety, and I assure you we +need it. + +"This lovely Savigny is so lonely! For instance, sometimes in the +morning I choose to be a little coquettish. I dress myself, I make +myself beautiful with my hair in curls and put on a pretty gown; I walk +through all the paths, and suddenly I realize that I have taken all this +trouble for the swans and ducks, my dog Kiss, and the cows, who do not +even turn to look at me when I pass. Thereupon, in my wrath, I hurry +home, put on a thick gown and busy myself on the farm, in the servants' +quarters, everywhere. And really, I am beginning to believe that ennui +has perfected me, and that I shall make an excellent housekeeper. + +"Luckily the hunting season will soon be here, and I rely upon that +for a little amusement. In the first place, Georges and father, both +enthusiastic sportsmen, will come oftener. And then you will be here, +you know. For you will reply at once that you will come, won't you? +Monsieur Risler said not long ago that you were not well. The air of +Savigny will do you worlds of good. + +"Everybody here expects you. And I am dying with impatience. + + "CLAIRE." + +Her letter written, Claire Fromont donned a large straw hat for the +first days of August were warm and glorious--and went herself to drop +it in the little box from which the postman collected the mail from the +chateau every morning. + +It was on the edge of the park, at a turn in the road. She paused a +moment to look at the trees by the roadside, at the neighboring meadows +sleeping in the bright sunlight. Over yonder the reapers were gathering +the last sheaves. Farther on they were ploughing. But all the melancholy +of the silent toil had vanished, so far as the girl was concerned, so +delighted was she at the thought of seeing her friend once more. + +No breeze came from the hills in the distance, no voice from the trees, +to warn her by a presentiment, to prevent her from sending that fatal +letter. And immediately upon her return she gave her attention to the +preparation of a pretty bedroom for Sidonie adjoining her own. + +The letter did its errand faithfully. From the little green, +vine-embowered gate of the chateau it found its way to Paris, and +arrived that same evening, with its Savigny postmark and impregnated +with the odor of the country, at the fifth-floor apartment on the Rue de +Braque. + +What an event that was! They read it again and again; and for a whole +week, until Sidonie's departure, it lay on the mantel-shelf beside +Madame Chebe's treasures, the clock under a glass globe and the Empire +cups. To Sidonie it was like a wonderful romance filled with tales of +enchantment and promises, which she read without opening it, merely +by gazing at the white envelope whereon Claire Fromont's monogram was +engraved in relief. + +Little she thought of marriage now. The important question was, What +clothes should she wear at the chateau? She must give her whole mind to +that, to cutting and planning, trying on dresses, devising new ways of +arranging her hair. Poor Frantz! How heavy his heart was made by these +preparations! That visit to Savigny, which he had tried vainly to +oppose, would cause a still further postponement of their wedding, which +Sidonie-why, he did not know--persisted in putting off from day to day. +He could not go to see her; and when she was once there, in the midst of +festivities and pleasures, who could say how long she would remain? + +The lover in his despair always went to the Delobelles to confide his +sorrows, but he never noticed how quickly Desiree rose as soon as he +entered, to make room for him by her side at the work-table, and how she +at once sat down again, with cheeks as red as fire and shining eyes. + +For some days past they had ceased to work at birds and insects for +ornament. The mother and daughter were hemming pink flounces destined +for Sidonie's frock, and the little cripple never had plied her needle +with such good heart. + +In truth little Desiree was not Delobelle's daughter to no purpose. + +She inherited her father's faculty of retaining his illusions, of hoping +on to the end and even beyond. + +While Frantz was dilating upon his woe, Desire was thinking that, when +Sidonie was gone, he would come every day, if it were only to talk about +the absent one; that she would have him there by her side, that they +would sit up together waiting for "father," and that, perhaps, some +evening, as he sat looking at her, he would discover the difference +between the woman who loves you and the one who simply allows herself to +be loved. + +Thereupon the thought that every stitch taken in the frock tended +to hasten the departure which she anticipated with such impatience +imparted extraordinary activity to her needle, and the unhappy lover +ruefully watched the flounces and ruffles piling up about her, like +little pink, white-capped waves. + +When the pink frock was finished, Mademoiselle Chebe started for +Savigny. + +The chateau of M. Gardinois was built in the valley of the Orge, on the +bank of that capriciously lovely stream, with its windmills, its little +islands, its dams, and its broad lawns that end at its shores. + +The chateau, an old Louis-Quinze structure, low in reality, although +made to appear high by a pointed roof, had a most depressing aspect, +suggestive of aristocratic antiquity; broad steps, balconies with rusty +balustrades, old urns marred by time, wherein the flowers stood out +vividly against the reddish stone. As far as the eye could see, the +walls stretched away, decayed and crumbling, descending gradually toward +the stream. The chateau overlooked them, with its high, slated roofs, +the farmhouse, with its red tiles, and the superb park, with its +lindens, ash-trees, poplars and chestnuts growing confusedly together +in a dense black mass, cut here and there by the arched openings of the +paths. + +But the charm of the old place was the water, which enlivened its +silence and gave character to its beautiful views. There were at +Savigny, to say nothing of the river, many springs, fountains, and +ponds, in which the sun sank to rest in all his glory; and they formed a +suitable setting for that venerable mansion, green and mossy as it was, +and slightly worn away, like a stone on the edge of a brook. + +Unluckily, at Savigny, as in most of those gorgeous Parisian summer +palaces, which the parvenus in commerce and speculation have made their +prey, the chatelains were not in harmony with the chateau. + +Since he had purchased his chateau, old Gardinois had done nothing but +injure the beauty of the beautiful property chance had placed in +his hands; cut down trees "for the view," filled his park with rough +obstructions to keep out trespassers, and reserved all his solicitude +for a magnificent kitchen-garden, which, as it produced fruit and +vegetables in abundance, seemed to him more like his own part of the +country--the land of the peasant. + +As for the great salons, where the panels with paintings of famous +subjects were fading in the autumn fogs, as for the ponds overrun with +water-lilies, the grottoes, the stone bridges, he cared for them only +because of the admiration of visitors, and because of such elements was +composed that thing which so flattered his vanity as an ex-dealer in +cattle--a chateau! + +Being already old, unable to hunt or fish, he passed his time +superintending the most trivial details of that large property. The +grain for the hens, the price of the last load of the second crop of +hay, the number of bales of straw stored in a magnificent circular +granary, furnished him with matter for scolding for a whole day; and +certain it is that, when one gazed from a distance at that lovely estate +of Savigny, the chateau on the hillside, the river, like a mirror, +flowing at its feet, the high terraces shaded by ivy, the supporting +wall of the park following the majestic slope of the ground, one never +would have suspected the proprietor's niggardliness and meanness of +spirit. + +In the idleness consequent upon his wealth, M. Gardinois, being greatly +bored in Paris, lived at Savigny throughout the year, and the Fromonts +lived with him during the summer. + +Madame Fromont was a mild, dull woman, whom her father's brutal +despotism had early molded to passive obedience for life. She maintained +the same attitude with her husband, whose constant kindness and +indulgence never had succeeded in triumphing over that humiliated, +taciturn nature, indifferent to everything, and, in some sense, +irresponsible. Having passed her life with no knowledge of business, she +had become rich without knowing it and without the slightest desire +to take advantage of it. Her fine apartments in Paris, her father's +magnificent chateau, made her uncomfortable. She occupied as small +a place as possible in both, filling her life with a single passion, +order--a fantastic, abnormal sort of order, which consisted in brushing, +wiping, dusting, and polishing the mirrors, the gilding and the +door-knobs, with her own hands, from morning till night. + +When she had nothing else to clean, the strange woman would attack her +rings, her watch-chain, her brooches, scrubbing the cameos and pearls, +and, by dint of polishing the combination of her own name and her +husband's, she had effaced all the letters of both. Her fixed idea +followed her to Savigny. She picked up dead branches in the paths, +scratched the moss from the benches with the end of her umbrella, and +would have liked to dust the leaves and sweep down the old trees; and +often, when in the train, she looked with envy at the little villas +standing in a line along the track, white and clean, with their gleaming +utensils, the pewter ball, and the little oblong gardens, which resemble +drawers in a bureau. Those were her ideal of a country-house. + +M. Fromont, who came only occasionally and was always absorbed by his +business affairs, enjoyed Savigny little more than she. Claire alone +felt really at home in that lovely park. She was familiar with its +smallest shrub. Being obliged to provide her own amusements, like all +only children, she had become attached to certain walks, watched the +flowers bloom, had her favorite path, her favorite tree, her favorite +bench for reading. The dinner-bell always surprised her far away in the +park. She would come to the table, out of breath but happy, flushed with +the fresh air. The shadow of the hornbeams, stealing over that youthful +brow, had imprinted a sort of gentle melancholy there, and the deep, +dark green of the ponds, crossed by vague rays, was reflected in her +eyes. + +Those lovely surroundings had in very truth shielded her from the +vulgarity and the abjectness of the persons about her. M. Gardinois +might deplore in her presence, for hours at a time, the perversity of +tradesmen and servants, or make an estimate of what was being stolen +from him each month, each week, every day, every minute; Madame Fromont +might enumerate her grievances against the mice, the maggots, dust and +dampness, all desperately bent upon destroying her property, and engaged +in a conspiracy against her wardrobes; not a word of their foolish talk +remained in Claire's mind. A run around the lawn, an hour's reading on +the river-bank, restored the tranquillity of that noble and intensely +active mind. + +Her grandfather looked upon her as a strange being, altogether out of +place in his family. As a child she annoyed him with her great, honest +eyes, her straightforwardness on all occasions, and also because he +did not find in her a second edition of his own passive and submissive +daughter. + +"That child will be a proud chit and an original, like her father," he +would say in his ugly moods. + +How much better he liked that little Chebe girl who used to come now and +then and play in the avenues at Savigny! In her, at least, he detected +the strain of the common people like himself, with a sprinkling of +ambition and envy, suggested even in those early days by a certain +little smile at the corner of the mouth. Moreover, the child exhibited +an ingenuous amazement and admiration in presence of his wealth, which +flattered his parvenu pride; and sometimes, when he teased her, she +would break out with the droll phrases of a Paris gamine, slang redolent +of the faubourgs, seasoned by her pretty, piquant face, inclined to +pallor, which not even superficiality could deprive of its distinction. +So he never had forgotten her. + +On this occasion above all, when Sidonie arrived at Savigny after her +long absence, with her fluffy hair, her graceful figure, her bright, +mobile face, the whole effect emphasized by mannerisms suggestive of the +shop-girl, she produced a decided sensation. Old Gardinois, wondering +greatly to see a tall young woman in place of the child he was expecting +to see, considered her prettier and, above all, better dressed than +Claire. + +It was a fact that, when Mademoiselle Chebe had left the train and was +seated in the great wagonette from the chateau, her appearance was not +bad; but she lacked those details that constituted her friend's chief +beauty and charm--a distinguished carriage, a contempt for poses, and, +more than all else, mental tranquillity. Her prettiness was not unlike +her gowns, of inexpensive materials, but cut according to the style of +the day-rags, if you will, but rags of which fashion, that ridiculous +but charming fairy, had regulated the color, the trimming, and the +shape. Paris has pretty faces made expressly for costumes of that sort, +very easy to dress becomingly, for the very reason that they belong to +no type, and Mademoiselle Sidonie's face was one of these. + +What bliss was hers when the carriage entered the long avenue, bordered +with velvety grass and primeval elms, and at the end Savigny awaiting +her with its great gate wide open! + +And how thoroughly at ease she felt amid all those refinements of +wealth! How perfectly that sort of life suited her! It seemed to her +that she never had known any other. + +Suddenly, in the midst of her intoxication, arrived a letter from +Frantz, which brought her back to the realities of her life, to +her wretched fate as the future wife of a government clerk, which +transported her, whether she would or no, to the mean little apartment +they would occupy some day at the top of some dismal house, whose heavy +atmosphere, dense with privation, she seemed already to breathe. + +Should she break her betrothal promise? + +She certainly could do it, as she had given no other pledge than her +word. But when he had left her, who could say that she would not wish +him back? + +In that little brain, turned by ambition, the strangest ideas chased one +another. Sometimes, while Grandfather Gardinois, who had laid aside in +her honor his old-fashioned hunting-jackets and swanskin waistcoats, was +jesting with her, amusing himself by contradicting her in order to +draw out a sharp reply, she would gaze steadily, coldly into his eyes, +without replying. Ah! if only he were ten years younger! But the thought +of becoming Madame Gardinois did not long occupy her. A new personage, a +new hope came into her life. + +After Sidonie's arrival, Georges Fromont, who was seldom seen at Savigny +except on Sundays, adopted the habit of coming to dinner almost every +day. + +He was a tall, slender, pale youth, of refined appearance. Having no +father or mother, he had been brought up by his uncle, M. Fromont, +and was looked upon by him to succeed him in business, and probably +to become Claire's husband. That ready-made future did not arouse any +enthusiasm in Georges. In the first place business bored him. As for +his cousin, the intimate good-fellowship of an education in common and +mutual confidence existed between them, but nothing more, at least on +his side. + +With Sidonie, on the contrary, he was exceedingly embarrassed and +shy, and at the same time desirous of producing an effect--a totally +different man, in short. She had just the spurious charm, a little free, +which was calculated to attract a superficial nature, and it was not +long before she discovered the impression that she produced upon him. + +When the two girls were walking together in the park, it was always +Sidonie who remembered that it was time for the train from Paris to +arrive. They would go together to the gate to meet the travellers, and +Georges's first glance was always for Mademoiselle Chebe, who remained a +little behind her friend, but with the poses and airs that go halfway to +meet the eyes. That manoeuvring between them lasted some time. They did +not mention love, but all the words, all the smiles they exchanged were +full of silent avowals. + +One cloudy and threatening summer evening, when the two friends had left +the table as soon as dinner was at an end and were walking in the long, +shady avenue, Georges joined them. They were talking upon indifferent +subjects, crunching the gravel beneath their idling footsteps, when +Madame Fromont's voice, from the chateau, called Claire away. Georges +and Sidonie were left alone. They continued to walk along the avenue, +guided by the uncertain whiteness of the path, without speaking of +drawing nearer to each other. + +A warm wind rustled among the leaves. The ruffled surface of the pond +lapped softly against the arches of the little bridge; and the blossoms +of the acacias and lindens, detached by the breeze, whirled about in +circles, perfuming the electricity-laden air. They felt themselves +surrounded by an atmosphere of storm, vibrant and penetrating. Dazzling +flashes of heat passed before their troubled eyes, like those that +played along the horizon. + +"Oh! what lovely glow-worms!" exclaimed Sidonie, embarrassed by the +oppressive silence broken by so many mysterious sounds. + +On the edge of the greensward a blade of grass here and there was +illuminated by a tiny, green, flickering light. She stooped to lift one +on her glove. Georges knelt close beside her; and as they leaned down, +their hair and cheeks touching, they gazed at each other for a moment by +the light of the glow-worms. How weird and fascinating she seemed to him +in that green light, which shone upon her face and died away in the +fine network of her waving hair! He put his arm around her waist, and +suddenly, feeling that she abandoned herself to him, he clasped her in a +long, passionate embrace. + +"What are you looking for?" asked Claire, suddenly coming up in the +shadow behind them. + +Taken by surprise, and with a choking sensation in his throat, Georges +trembled so that he could not reply. Sidonie, on the other hand, rose +with the utmost coolness, and said as she shook out her skirt: + +"The glow-worms. See how many of them there are tonight. And how they +sparkle." + +Her eyes also sparkled with extraordinary brilliancy. + +"The storm makes them, I suppose," murmured Georges, still trembling. + +The storm was indeed near. At brief intervals great clouds of leaves and +dust whirled from one end of the avenue to the other. They walked a few +steps farther, then all three returned to the house. The young women +took their work, Georges tried to read a newspaper, while Madame Fromont +polished her rings and M. Gardinois and his son-in-law played billiards +in the adjoining room. + +How long that evening seemed to Sidonie! She had but one wish, to be +alone-alone with her thoughts. + +But, in the silence of her little bedroom, when she had put out +her light, which interferes with dreams by casting too bright an +illumination upon reality, what schemes, what transports of delight! +Georges loved her, Georges Fromont, the heir of the factory! They would +marry; she would be rich. For in that mercenary little heart the first +kiss of love had awakened no ideas save those of ambition and a life of +luxury. + +To assure herself that her lover was sincere, she tried to recall the +scene under the trees to its most trifling details, the expression of +his eyes, the warmth of his embrace, the vows uttered brokenly, lips +to lips, it that weird light shed by the glow-worms, which one solemn +moment had fixed forever in her heart. + +Oh! the glow-worms of Savigny! + +All night long they twinkled like stars before her closed eyes. The park +was full of them, to the farthest limits of its darkest paths. There +were clusters of them all along the lawns, on the trees, in the +shrubbery. The fine gravel of the avenues, the waves of the river, +seemed to emit green sparks, and all those microscopic flashes formed a +sort of holiday illumination in which Savigny seemed to be enveloped in +her honor, to celebrate the betrothal of Georges and Sidonie. + +When she rose the next day, her plan was formed. Georges loved her; that +was certain. Did he contemplate marrying her? She had a suspicion that +he did not, the clever minx! But that did not frighten her. She felt +strong enough to triumph over that childish nature, at once weak and +passionate. She had only to resist him, and that is exactly what she +did. + +For some days she was cold and indifferent, wilfully blind and devoid of +memory. He tried to speak to her, to renew the blissful moment, but she +avoided him, always placing some one between them. + +Then he wrote to her. + +He carried his notes himself to a hollow in a rock near a clear spring +called "The Phantom," which was in the outskirts of the park, sheltered +by a thatched roof. Sidonie thought that a charming episode. In the +evening she must invent some story, a pretext of some sort for going +to "The Phantom" alone. The shadow of the trees across the path, the +mystery of the night, the rapid walk, the excitement, made her heart +beat deliciously. She would find the letter saturated with dew, with the +intense cold of the spring, and so white in the moonlight that she would +hide it quickly for fear of being surprised. + +And then, when she was alone, what joy to open it, to decipher those +magic characters, those words of love which swam before her eyes, +surrounded by dazzling blue and yellow circles, as if she were reading +her letter in the bright sunlight. + +"I love you! Love me!" wrote Georges in every conceivable phrase. + +At first she did not reply; but when she felt that he was fairly caught, +entirely in her power, she declared herself concisely: + +"I never will love any one but my husband." + +Ah! she was a true woman already, was little Chebe. + + + + +CHAPTER V. HOW LITTLE CHEBE'S STORY ENDED + +Meanwhile September arrived. The hunting season brought together a large, +noisy, vulgar party at the chateau. There were long dinners at which the +wealthy bourgeois lingered slothfully and wearily, prone to fall asleep +like peasants. They went in carriages to meet the returning hunters in +the cool air of the autumn evening. The mist arose from the fields, from +which the crops had been gathered; and while the frightened game flew +along the stubble with plaintive cries, the darkness seemed to emerge +from the forests whose dark masses increased in size, spreading out over +the fields. + +The carriage lamps were lighted, the hoods raised, and they drove +quickly homeward with the fresh air blowing in their faces. The +dining-hall, brilliantly illuminated, was filled with gayety and +laughter. + +Claire Fromont, embarrassed by the vulgarity of those about her, +hardly spoke at all. Sidonie was at her brightest. The drive had given +animation to her pale complexion and Parisian eyes. She knew how to +laugh, understood a little too much, perhaps, and seemed to the male +guests the only woman in the party. Her success completed Georges's +intoxication; but as his advances became more pronounced, she showed +more and more reserve. Thereupon he determined that she should be his +wife. He swore it to himself, with the exaggerated emphasis of weak +characters, who seem always to combat beforehand the difficulties to +which they know that they must yield some day. + +It was the happiest moment of little Chebe's life. Even aside from +any ambitious project, her coquettish, false nature found a strange +fascination in this intrigue, carried on mysteriously amid banquets and +merry-makings. + +No one about them suspected anything. Claire was at that healthy and +delightful period of youth when the mind, only partly open, clings to +the things it knows with blind confidence, in complete ignorance of +treachery and falsehood. M. Fromont thought of nothing but his business. +His wife polished her jewels with frenzied energy. Only old Gardinois +and his little, gimlet-like eyes were to be feared; but Sidonie +entertained him, and even if he had discovered anything, he was not the +man to interfere with her future. + +Her hour of triumph was near, when a sudden, unforeseen disaster blasted +her hopes. + +One Sunday morning M. Fromont was brought back fatally wounded from a +hunting expedition. A bullet intended for a deer had pierced his temple. +The chateau was turned upside-down. + +All the hunters, among them the unknown bungler that had fired the fatal +shot, started in haste for Paris. Claire, frantic with grief, entered +the room where her father lay on his deathbed, there to remain; and +Risler, being advised of the catastrophe, came to take Sidonie home. + +On the night before her departure she had a final meeting with Georges +at The Phantom,--a farewell meeting, painful and stealthy, and made +solemn by the proximity of death. They vowed, however, to love each +other always; they agreed upon a method of writing to each other. Then +they parted. + +It was a sad journey home. + +Sidonie returned abruptly to her every-day life, escorted by the +despairing grief of Risler, to whom his dear master's death was an +irreparable loss. On her arrival, she was compelled to describe her +visit to the smallest detail; discuss the inmates of the chateau, the +guests, the entertainments, the dinners, and the final catastrophe. +What torture for her, when, absorbed as she was by a single, unchanging +thought, she had so much need of silence and solitude! But there was +something even more terrible than that. + +On the first day after her return Frantz resumed his former place; and +the glances with which he followed her, the words he addressed to her +alone, seemed to her exasperating beyond endurance. + +Despite all his shyness and distrust of himself, the poor fellow +believed that he had some rights as an accepted and impatient lover, +and little Chebe was obliged to emerge from her dreams to reply to that +creditor, and to postpone once more the maturity of his claim. + +A day came, however, when indecision ceased to be possible. She had +promised to marry Frantz when he had obtained a good situation; and +now an engineer's berth in the South, at the smelting-furnaces of Grand +Combe, was offered to him. That was sufficient for the support of a +modest establishment. + +There was no way of avoiding the question. She must either keep her +promise or invent an excuse for breaking it. But what excuse could she +invent? + +In that pressing emergency, she thought of Desiree. Although the lame +little girl had never confided in her, she knew of her great love for +Frantz. Long ago she had detected it, with her coquette's eyes, bright +and changing mirrors, which reflected all the thoughts of others without +betraying any of her own. It may be that the thought that another woman +loved her betrothed had made Frantz's love more endurable to her at +first; and, just as we place statues on tombstones to make them appear +less sad, Desiree's pretty, little, pale face at the threshold of that +uninviting future had made it seem less forbidding to her. + +Now it provided--her with a simple and honorable pretext for freeing +herself from her promise. + +"No! I tell you, mamma," she said to Madame Chebe one day, "I never will +consent to make a friend like her unhappy. I should suffer too much from +remorse,--poor Desiree! Haven't you noticed how badly she looks since I +came home; what a beseeching way she has of looking at me? No, I won't +cause her that sorrow; I won't take away her Frantz." + +Even while she admired her daughter's generous spirit, Madame Chebe +looked upon that as a rather exaggerated sacrifice, and remonstrated +with her. + +"Take care, my child; we aren't rich. A husband like Frantz doesn't turn +up every day." + +"Very well! then I won't marry at all," declared Sidonie flatly, and, +deeming her pretext an excellent one, she clung persistently to it. +Nothing could shake her determination, neither the tears shed by Frantz, +who was exasperated by her refusal to fulfil her promise, enveloped as +it was in vague reasons which she would not even explain to him, nor the +entreaties of Risler, in whose ear Madame Chebe had mysteriously mumbled +her daughter's reasons, and who in spite of everything could not but +admire such a sacrifice. + +"Don't revile her, I tell you! She's an angel!" he said to his brother, +striving to soothe him. + +"Ah! yes, she is an angel," assented Madame Chebe with a sigh, so that +the poor betrayed lover had not even the right to complain. Driven to +despair, he determined to leave Paris, and as Grand Combe seemed too +near in his frenzied longing for flight, he asked and obtained an +appointment as overseer on the Suez Canal at Ismailia. He went away +without knowing, or caring to know aught of, Desiree's love; and yet, +when he went to bid her farewell, the dear little cripple looked up into +his face with her shy, pretty eyes, in which were plainly written the +words: + +"I love you, if she does not." + +But Frantz Risler did not know how to read what was written in those +eyes. + +Fortunately, hearts that are accustomed to suffer have an infinite store +of patience. When her friend had gone, the lame girl, with her charming +morsel of illusion, inherited from her father and refined by her +feminine nature, returned bravely to her work, saying to herself: + +"I will wait for him." + +And thereafter she spread the wings of her birds to their fullest +extent, as if they were all going, one after another, to Ismailia in +Egypt. And that was a long distance! + +Before sailing from Marseilles, young Risler wrote Sidonie a farewell +letter, at once laughable and touching, wherein, mingling the most +technical details with the most heartrending adieux, the unhappy +engineer declared that he was about to set sail, with a broken heart, +on the transport Sahib, "a sailing-ship and steamship combined, +with engines of fifteen-hundred-horse power," as if he hoped that so +considerable a capacity would make an impression on his ungrateful +betrothed, and cause her ceaseless remorse. But Sidonie had very +different matters on her mind. + +She was beginning to be disturbed by Georges's silence. Since she left +Savigny she had heard from him only once. All her letters were left +unanswered. To be sure, she knew through Risler that Georges was very +busy, and that his uncle's death had thrown the management of the +factory upon him, imposing upon him a responsibility that was beyond his +strength. But to abandon her without a word! + +From the window on the landing, where she had resumed her silent +observations--for she had so arranged matters as not to return to +Mademoiselle Le Mire--little Chebe tried to distinguish her lover, +watched him as he went to and fro across the yards and among the +buildings; and in the afternoon, when it was time for the train to +start for Savigny, she saw him enter his carriage to go to his aunt and +cousin, who were passing the early months of their period of mourning at +the grandfather's chateau in the country. + +All this excited and alarmed her; and the proximity of the factory +rendered Georges's avoidance of her even more apparent. To think that +by raising her voice a little she could make him turn toward the place +where she stood! To think that they were separated only by a wall! And +yet, at that moment they were very far apart. + +Do you remember, little Chebe, that unhappy winter evening when the +excellent Risler rushed into your parents' room with an extraordinary +expression of countenance, exclaiming, "Great news!"? + +Great news, indeed! Georges Fromont had just informed him that, in +accordance with his uncle's last wishes, he was to marry his cousin +Claire, and that, as he was certainly unequal to the task of carrying on +the business alone, he had resolved to take him, Risler, for a partner, +under the firm name of FROMONT JEUNE AND RISLER AINE. + +How did you succeed, little Chebe, in maintaining your self-possession +when you learned that the factory had eluded your grasp and that another +woman had taken your place? What a terrible evening!--Madame Chebe sat +by the table mending; M. Chebe before the fire drying his clothes, which +were wet through by his having walked a long distance in the rain. Oh! +that miserable room, overflowing with gloom and ennui! The lamp gave a +dim light. The supper, hastily prepared, had left in the room the odor +of the poor man's kitchen. And Risler, intoxicated with joy, talking +with increasing animation, laid great plans! + +All these things tore your heart, and made the treachery still +more horrible by the contrast between the riches that eluded your +outstretched hand and the ignoble mediocrity in which you were doomed to +pass your life. + +Sidonie was seriously ill for a long while. As she lay in bed, whenever +the window-panes rattled behind the curtains, the unhappy creature +fancied that Georges's wedding-coaches were driving through the +street; and she had paroxysms of nervous excitement, without words and +inexplicable, as if a fever of wrath were consuming her. + +At last, time and youthful strength, her mother's care, and, more than +all, the attentions of Desiree, who now knew of the sacrifice her friend +had made for her, triumphed over the disease. But for a long while +Sidonie was very weak, oppressed by a deadly melancholy, by a constant +longing to weep, which played havoc with her nervous system. + +Sometimes she talked of travelling, of leaving Paris. At other times +she insisted that she must enter a convent. Her friends were sorely +perplexed, and strove to discover the cause of that singular state of +mind, which was even more alarming than her illness; when she suddenly +confessed to her mother the secret of her melancholy. + +She loved the elder Risler! She never had dared to whisper it; but it +was he whom she had always loved and not Frantz. + +This news was a surprise to everybody, to Risler most of all; but little +Chebe was so pretty, her eyes were so soft when she glanced at him, that +the honest fellow instantly became as fond of her as a fool! Indeed, +it may be that love had lain in his heart for a long time without his +realizing it. + +And that is how it happened that, on the evening of her wedding-day, +young Madame Risler, in her white wedding-dress, gazed with a smile of +triumph at the window on the landing which had been the narrow setting +of ten years of her life. That haughty smile, in which there was a touch +of profound pity and of scorn as well, such scorn as a parvenu feels for +his poor beginnings, was evidently addressed to the poor sickly child +whom she fancied she saw up at that window, in the depths of the past +and the darkness. It seemed to say to Claire, pointing at the factory: + +"What do you say to this little Chebe? She is here at last, you see!" + + + + +CHAPTER VI. NOON--THE MARAIS IS BREAKFASTING. + +Sitting near the door, on a stone which once served as a horse-block for +equestrians, Risler watches with a smile the exit from the factory. +He never loses his enjoyment of the outspoken esteem of all these +good people whom he knew when he was insignificant and humble like +themselves. The "Good-day, Monsieur Risler," uttered by so many +different voices, all in the same affectionate tone, warms his heart. +The children accost him without fear, the long-bearded designers, +half-workmen, half-artists, shake hands with him as they pass, and +address him familiarly as "thou." Perhaps there is a little too much +familiarity in all this, for the worthy man has not yet begun to realize +the prestige and authority of his new station; and there was some one +who considered this free-and-easy manner very humiliating. But that some +one can not see him at this moment, and the master takes advantage of +the fact to bestow a hearty greeting upon the old bookkeeper, Sigismond, +who comes out last of all, erect and red-faced, imprisoned in a high +collar and bareheaded--whatever the weather--for fear of apoplexy. + +He and Risler are fellow-countrymen. They have for each other a profound +esteem, dating from their first employment at the factory, from that +time, long, long ago, when they breakfasted together at the little +creamery on the corner, to which Sigismond Planus goes alone now and +selects his refreshment for the day from the slate hanging on the wall. + +But stand aside! The carriage of Fromont Jeune drives through the +gateway. He has been out on business all the morning; and the partners, +as they walk toward the pretty little house in which they both live at +the end of the garden, discuss matters of business in a friendly way. + +"I have been at Prochasson's," says Fromont. "They showed me some new +patterns, pretty ones too, I assure you. We must be on our guard. They +are dangerous rivals." + +But Risler is not at all anxious. He is strong in his talent, his +experience; and then--but this is strictly confidential--he is on the +track of a wonderful invention, an improved printing-press, something +that--but we shall see. Still talking, they enter the garden, which is +as carefully kept as a public park, with round-topped acacias almost as +old as the buildings, and magnificent ivies that hide the high, black +walls. + +Beside Fromont jeune, Risler Aine has the appearance of a clerk making +his report to his employer. At every step he stops to speak, for his +gait is heavy, his mind works slowly, and words have much difficulty in +finding their way to his lips. Oh, if he could see the little flushed +face up yonder, behind the window on the second floor, watching +everything so attentively! + +Madame Risler is waiting for her husband to come to breakfast, and waxes +impatient over the good man's moderation. She motions to him with her +hand: + +"Come, come!" but Risler does not notice it. His attention is engrossed +by the little Fromont, daughter of Claire and Georges, who is taking a +sun-bath, blooming like a flower amid her lace in her nurse's arms. How +pretty she is! "She is your very picture, Madame Chorche." + +"Do you think so, my dear Risler? Why, everybody says she looks like her +father." + +"Yes, a little. But--" + +And there they all stand, the father and mother, Risler and the nurse, +gravely seeking resemblances in that miniature model of a human being, +who stares at them out of her little eyes, blinking with the noise +and glare. Sidonie, at her open window, leans out to see what they are +doing, and why her husband does not come up. + +At that moment Risler has taken the tiny creature in his arms, the whole +fascinating bundle of white draperies and light ribbons, and is trying +to make it laugh and crow with baby-talk and gestures worthy of a +grandfather. How old he looks, poor man! His tall body, which he +contorts for the child's amusement, his hoarse voice, which becomes a +low growl when he tries to soften it, are absurd and ridiculous. + +Above, the wife taps the floor with her foot and mutters between her +teeth: + +"The idiot!" + +At last, weary of waiting, she sends a servant to tell Monsieur that +breakfast is served; but the game is so far advanced that Monsieur does +not see how he can go away, how he can interrupt these explosions of +laughter and little bird-like cries. He succeeds at last, however, +in giving the child back to its nurse, and enters the hall, laughing +heartily. He is laughing still when he enters the dining-room; but a +glance from his wife stops him short. + +Sidonie is seated at table before the chafing-dish, already filled. Her +martyr-like attitude suggests a determination to be cross. + +"Oh! there you are. It's very lucky!" + +Risler took his seat, a little ashamed. + +"What would you have, my love? That child is so--" + +"I have asked you before now not to speak to me in that way. It isn't +good form." + +"What, not when we're alone?" + +"Bah! you will never learn to adapt yourself to our new fortune. And +what is the result? No one in this place treats me with any respect. +Pere Achille hardly touches his hat to me when I pass his lodge. To be +sure, I'm not a Fromont, and I haven't a carriage." + +"Come, come, little one, you know perfectly well that you can use Madame +Chorche's coupe. She always says it is at our disposal." + +"How many times must I tell you that I don't choose to be under any +obligation to that woman?" + +"O Sidonie" + +"Oh! yes, I know, it's all understood. Madame Fromont is the good Lord +himself. Every one is forbidden to touch her. And I must make up my +mind to be a nobody in my own house, to allow myself to be humiliated, +trampled under foot." + +"Come, come, little one--" + +Poor Risler tries to interpose, to say a word in favor of his dear +Madame "Chorche." But he has no tact. This is the worst possible method +of effecting a reconciliation; and Sidonie at once bursts forth: + +"I tell you that that woman, with all her calm airs, is proud and +spiteful. In the first place, she detests me, I know that. So long as I +was poor little Sidonie and she could toss me her broken dolls and old +clothes, it was all right, but now that I am my own mistress as well +as she, it vexes her and humiliates her. Madame gives me advice with +a lofty air, and criticises what I do. I did wrong to have a maid. Of +course! Wasn't I in the habit of waiting on myself? She never loses a +chance to wound me. When I call on her on Wednesdays, you should hear +the tone in which she asks me, before everybody, how 'dear Madame Chebe' +is. Oh! yes. I'm a Chebe and she's a Fromont. One's as good as the +other, in my opinion. My grandfather was a druggist. What was hers? A +peasant who got rich by money-lending. I'll tell her so one of these +days, if she shows me too much of her pride; and I'll tell her, too, +that their little imp, although they don't suspect it, looks just like +that old Pere Gardinois, and heaven knows he isn't handsome." + +"Oh!" exclaims Risler, unable to find words to reply. + +"Oh! yes, of course! I advise you to admire their child. She's always +ill. She cries all night like a little cat. It keeps me awake. And +afterward, through the day, I have mamma's piano and her scales--tra, la +la la! If the music were only worth listening to!" + +Risler has taken the wise course. He does not say a word until he sees +that she is beginning to calm down a little, when he completes the +soothing process with compliments. + +"How pretty we are to-day! Are we going out soon to make some calls, +eh?" + +He resorts to this mode of address to avoid the more familiar form, +which is so offensive to her. + +"No, I am not going to make calls," Sidonie replies with a certain +pride. "On the contrary, I expect to receive them. This is my day." + +In response to her husband's astounded, bewildered expression she +continues: + +"Why, yes, this is my day. Madame Fromont has one; I can have one also, +I fancy." + +"Of course, of course," said honest Risler, looking about with some +little uneasiness. "So that's why I saw so many flowers everywhere, on +the landing and in the drawing-room." + +"Yes, my maid went down to the garden this morning. Did I do wrong? Oh! +you don't say so, but I'm sure you think I did wrong. 'Dame'! I thought +the flowers in the garden belonged to us as much as to the Fromonts." + +"Certainly they do--but you--it would have been better perhaps--" + +"To ask leave? That's it-to humble myself again for a few paltry +chrysanthemums and two or three bits of green. Besides, I didn't +make any secret of taking the flowers; and when she comes up a little +later--" + +"Is she coming? Ah! that's very kind of her." + +Sidonie turned upon him indignantly. + +"What's that? Kind of her? Upon my word, if she doesn't come, it would +be the last straw. When I go every Wednesday to be bored to death in her +salon with a crowd of affected, simpering women!" + +She did not say that those same Wednesdays of Madame Fromont's were very +useful to her, that they were like a weekly journal of fashion, one of +those composite little publications in which you are told how to enter +and to leave a room, how to bow, how to place flowers in a jardiniere +and cigars in a case, to say nothing of the engravings, the procession +of graceful, faultlessly attired men and women, and the names of the +best modistes. Nor did Sidonie add that she had entreated all those +friends of Claire's, of whom she spoke so scornfully, to come to see her +on her own day, and that the day was selected by them. + +Will they come? Will Madame Fromont Jeune insult Madame Risler Aine +by absenting herself on her first Friday? The thought makes her almost +feverish with anxiety. + +"For heaven's sake, hurry!" she says again and again. "Good heavens! how +long you are at your, breakfast!" + +It is a fact that it is one of honest Risler's ways to eat slowly, and +to light his pipe at the table while he sips his coffee. To-day he must +renounce these cherished habits, must leave the pipe in its case because +of the smoke, and, as soon as he has swallowed the last mouthful, run +hastily and dress, for his wife insists that he must come up during the +afternoon and pay his respects to the ladies. + +What a sensation in the factory when they see Risler Aine come in, on a +week-day, in a black frock-coat and white cravat! + +"Are you going to a wedding, pray?" cries Sigismond, the cashier, behind +his grating. + +And Risler, not without a feeling of pride, replies: + +"This is my wife's reception day!" + +Soon everybody in the place knows that it is Sidonie's day; and Pere +Achille, who takes care of the garden, is not very well pleased to find +that the branches of the winter laurels by the gate are broken. + +Before taking his seat at the table upon which he draws, in the bright +light from the tall windows, Risler has taken off his fine frock-coat, +which embarrasses him, and has turned up his clean shirt-sleeves; but +the idea that his wife is expecting company preoccupies and disturbs +him; and from time to time he puts on his coat and goes up to her. + +"Has no one come?" he asks timidly. + +"No, Monsieur, no one." + +In the beautiful red drawing-room--for they have a drawing-room in red +damask, with a console between the windows and a pretty table in the +centre of the light-flowered carpet--Sidonie has established herself in +the attitude of a woman holding a reception, a circle of chairs of +many shapes around her. Here and there are books, reviews, a little +work-basket in the shape of a gamebag, with silk tassels, a bunch of +violets in a glass vase, and green plants in the jardinieres. Everything +is arranged exactly as in the Fromonts' apartments on the floor below; +but the taste, that invisible line which separates the distinguished +from the vulgar, is not yet refined. You would say it was a passable +copy of a pretty genre picture. The hostess's attire, even, is too new; +she looks more as if she were making a call than as if she were at home. +In Risler's eyes everything is superb, beyond reproach; he is preparing +to say so as he enters the salon, but, in face of his wife's wrathful +glance, he checks himself in terror. + +"You see, it's four o'clock," she says, pointing to the clock with an +angry gesture. "No one will come. But I take it especially ill of Claire +not to come up. She is at home--I am sure of it--I can hear her." + +Indeed, ever since noon, Sidonie has listened intently to the slightest +sounds on the floor below, the child's crying, the closing of doors. +Risler attempts to go down again in order to avoid a renewal of the +conversation at breakfast; but his wife will not allow him to do so. The +very least he can do is to stay with her when everybody else abandons +her, and so he remains there, at a loss what to say, rooted to the +spot, like those people who dare not move during a storm for fear of +attracting the lightning. Sidonie moves excitedly about, going in and +out of the salon, changing the position of a chair, putting it back +again, looking at herself as she passes the mirror, and ringing for her +maid to send her to ask Pere Achille if no one has inquired for her. +That Pere Achille is such a spiteful creature! Perhaps when people have +come, he has said that she was out. + +But no, the concierge has not seen any one. + +Silence and consternation. Sidonie is standing at the window on the +left, Risler at the one on the right. From there they can see the little +garden, where the darkness is gathering, and the black smoke which the +chimney emits beneath the lowering clouds. Sigismond's window is the +first to show a light on the ground floor; the cashier trims his lamp +himself with painstaking care, and his tall shadow passes in front +of the flame and bends double behind the grating. Sidonie's wrath is +diverted a moment by these familiar details. + +Suddenly a small coupe drives into the garden and stops in front of +the door. At last some one is coming. In that pretty whirl of silk and +flowers and jet and flounces and furs, as it runs quickly up the step, +Sidonie has recognized one of the most fashionable frequenters of the +Fromont salon, the wife of a wealthy dealer in bronzes. What an honor +to receive a call from such an one! Quick, quick! the family takes +its position, Monsieur in front of the hearth, Madame in an easychair, +carelessly turning the leaves of a magazine. Wasted pose! The fair +caller did not come to see Sidonie; she has stopped at the floor below. + +Ah! if Madame Georges could hear what her neighbor says of her and her +friends! + +At that moment the door opens and "Mademoiselle Planus" is announced. +She is the cashier's sister, a poor old maid, humble and modest, who +has made it her duty to make this call upon the wife of her brother's +employer, and who is amazed at the warm welcome she receives. She is +surrounded and made much of. "How kind of you to come! Draw up to the +fire." They overwhelm her with attentions and show great interest in +her slightest word. Honest Risler's smiles are as warm as his thanks. +Sidonie herself displays all her fascinations, overjoyed to exhibit +herself in her glory to one who was her equal in the old days, and to +reflect that the other, in the room below, must hear that she has had +callers. So she makes as much noise as possible, moving chairs, pushing +the table around; and when the lady takes her leave, dazzled, enchanted, +bewildered, she escorts her to the landing with a great rustling of +flounces, and calls to her in a very loud voice, leaning over the rail, +that she is at home every Friday. "You understand, every Friday." + +Now it is dark. The two great lamps in the salon are lighted. In the +adjoining room they hear the servant laying the table. It is all over. +Madame Fromont Jeune will not come. + +Sidonie is pale with rage. + +"Just fancy, that minx can't come up eighteen steps! No doubt Madame +thinks we're not grand enough for her. Ah! but I'll have my revenge." + +As she pours forth her wrath in unjust words, her voice becomes coarse, +takes on the intonations of the faubourg, an accent of the common people +which betrays the ex-apprentice of Mademoiselle Le Mire. + +Risler is unlucky enough to make a remark. + +"Who knows? Perhaps the child is ill." + +She turns upon him in a fury, as if she would like to bite him. + +"Will you hold your tongue about that brat? After all, it's your fault +that this has happened to me. You don't know how to make people treat me +with respect." + +And as she closed the door of her bedroom violently, making the globes +on the lamps tremble, as well as all the knick-knacks on the etageres, +Risler, left alone, stands motionless in the centre of the salon, +looking with an air of consternation at his white cuffs, his broad +patent-leather shoes, and mutters mechanically: + +"My wife's reception day!" + + + + +BOOK 2. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. THE TRUE PEARL AND THE FALSE + +"What can be the matter? What have I done to her?" Claire Fromont very +often wondered when she thought of Sidonie. + +She was entirely ignorant of what had formerly taken place between her +friend and Georges at Savigny. Her own life was so upright, her mind +so pure, that it was impossible for her to divine the jealous, +mean-spirited ambition that had grown up by her side within the past +fifteen years. And yet the enigmatical expression in that pretty face +as it smiled upon her gave her a vague feeling of uneasiness which +she could not understand. An affectation of politeness, strange enough +between friends, was suddenly succeeded by an ill-dissembled anger, a +cold, stinging tone, in presence of which Claire was as perplexed as +by a difficult problem. Sometimes, too, a singular presentiment, the +ill-defined intuition of a great misfortune, was mingled with her +uneasiness; for all women have in some degree a kind of second sight, +and, even in the most innocent, ignorance of evil is suddenly illumined +by visions of extraordinary lucidity. + +From time to time, as the result of a conversation somewhat longer +than usual, or of one of those unexpected meetings when faces taken by +surprise allow their real thoughts to be seen, Madame Fromont reflected +seriously concerning this strange little Sidonie; but the active, urgent +duties of life, with its accompaniment of affections and preoccupations, +left her no time for dwelling upon such trifles. + +To all women comes a time when they encounter such sudden windings in +the road that their whole horizon changes and all their points of view +become transformed. + +Had Claire been a young girl, the falling away of that friendship bit by +bit, as if torn from her by an unkindly hand, would have been a source +of great regret to her. But she had lost her father, the object of her +greatest, her only youthful affection; then she had married. The +child had come, with its thrice welcome demands upon her every moment. +Moreover, she had with her her mother, almost in her dotage, still +stupefied by her husband's tragic death. In a life so fully occupied, +Sidonie's caprices received but little attention; and it had hardly +occurred to Claire Fromont to be surprised at her marriage to Risler. +He was clearly too old for her; but, after all, what difference did it +make, if they loved each other? + +As for being vexed because little Chebe had attained that lofty +position, had become almost her equal, her superior nature was incapable +of such pettiness. On the contrary, she would have been glad with all +her heart to know that that young wife, whose home was so near her +own, who lived the same life, so to speak, and had been her playmate +in childhood, was happy and highly esteemed. Being most kindly disposed +toward her, she tried to teach her, to instruct her in the ways of +society, as one might instruct an attractive provincial, who fell but +little short of being altogether charming. + +Advice is not readily accepted by one pretty young woman from another. +When Madame Fromont gave a grand dinner-party, she took Madame Risler to +her bedroom, and said to her, smiling frankly in order not to vex her: +"You have put on too many jewels, my dear. And then, you know, with a +high dress one doesn't wear flowers in the hair." Sidonie blushed, and +thanked her friend, but wrote down an additional grievance against her +in the bottom of her heart. + +In Claire's circle her welcome was decidedly cold. The Faubourg +Saint-Germain has its pretensions; but do not imagine that the +Marais has none! Those wives and daughters of mechanics, of wealthy +manufacturers, knew little Chebe's story; indeed, they would have +guessed it simply by her manner of making her appearance and by her +demeanor among them. + +Sidonie's efforts were unavailing. She retained the manners of a +shop-girl. Her slightly artificial amiability, sometimes too humble, was +as unpleasant as the spurious elegance of the shop; and her disdainful +attitudes recalled the superb airs of the head saleswomen in the great +dry-goods establishments, arrayed in black silk gowns, which they take +off in the dressing-room when they go away at night--who stare with an +imposing air, from the vantage-point of their mountains of curls, at the +poor creatures who venture to discuss prices. + +She felt that she was being examined and criticised, and her modesty was +compelled to place itself upon a war footing. Of the names mentioned +in her presence, the amusements, the entertainments, the books of which +they talked to her, she knew nothing. Claire did her best to help her, +to keep her on the surface, with a friendly hand always outstretched; +but many of these ladies thought Sidonie pretty; that was enough to make +them bear her a grudge for seeking admission to their circle. Others, +proud of their husbands' standing and of their wealth, could not invent +enough unspoken affronts and patronizing phrases to humiliate the little +parvenue. + +Sidonie included them all in a single phrase: "Claire's friends--that is +to say, my enemies!" But she was seriously incensed against but one. + +The two partners had no suspicion of what was taking place between their +wives. Risler, continually engrossed in his press, sometimes remained +at his draughting-table until midnight. Fromont passed his days abroad, +lunched at his club, was almost never at the factory. He had his reasons +for that. + +Sidonie's proximity disturbed him. His capricious passion for her, that +passion that he had sacrificed to his uncle's last wishes, recurred too +often to his memory with all the regret one feels for the irreparable; +and, conscious that he was weak, he fled. His was a pliable nature, +without sustaining purpose, intelligent enough to appreciate his +failings, too weak to guide itself. On the evening of Risler's +wedding--he had been married but a few months himself--he had +experienced anew, in that woman's presence, all the emotion of the +stormy evening at Savigny. Thereafter, without self-examination, he +avoided seeing her again or speaking with her. Unfortunately, as they +lived in the same house, as their wives saw each other ten times a +day, chance sometimes brought them together; and this strange thing +happened--that the husband, wishing to remain virtuous, deserted his +home altogether and sought distraction elsewhere. + +Claire was not astonished that it was so. She had become accustomed, +during her father's lifetime, to the constant comings and goings of a +business life; and during her husband's absences, zealously performing +her duties as wife and mother, she invented long tasks, occupations of +all sorts, walks for the child, prolonged, peaceful tarryings in the +sunlight, from which she would return home, overjoyed with the little +one's progress, deeply impressed with the gleeful enjoyment of all +infants in the fresh air, but with a touch of their radiance in the +depths of her serious eyes. + +Sidonie also went out a great deal. It often happened, toward night, +that Georges's carriage, driving through the gateway, would compel +Madame Risler to step hastily aside as she was returning in a gorgeous +costume from a triumphal promenade. The boulevard, the shop-windows, the +purchases, made after long deliberation as if to enjoy to the full the +pleasure of purchasing, detained her very late. They would exchange a +bow, a cold glance at the foot of the staircase; and Georges would hurry +into his apartments, as into a place of refuge, concealing beneath a +flood of caresses, bestowed upon the child his wife held out to him, the +sudden emotion that had seized him. + +Sidonie, for her part, seemed to have forgotten everything, and to have +retained no other feeling but contempt for that weak, cowardly creature. +Moreover, she had many other things to think about. + +Her husband had just had a piano placed in her red salon, between the +windows. + +After long hesitation she had decided to learn to sing, thinking that +it was rather late to begin to play the piano; and twice a week Madame +Dobson, a pretty, sentimental blonde, came to give her lessons from +twelve o'clock to one. In the silence of the neighborhood the a-a-a and +o-oo, persistently prolonged, repeated again and again, with windows +open, gave the factory the atmosphere of a boarding-school. + +And it was in reality a schoolgirl who was practising these exercises, +an inexperienced, wavering little soul, full of unconfessed longings, +with everything to learn and to find out in order to become a real +woman. But her ambition confined itself to a superficial aspect of +things. + +"Claire Fromont plays the piano; I will sing. She is considered a +refined and distinguished woman, and I intend that people shall say the +same of me." + +Without a thought of improving her education, Sidonie passed her life +running about among milliners and dressmakers. "What are people going +to wear this winter?" was her cry. She was attracted by the gorgeous +displays in the shop-windows, by everything that caught the eye of the +passers-by. + +The one thing that Sidonie envied Claire more than all else was the +child, the luxurious plaything, beribboned from the curtains of its +cradle to its nurse's cap. She did not think of the sweet, maternal +duties, demanding patience and self-abnegation, of the long rockings +when sleep would not come, of the laughing awakenings sparkling with +fresh water. No! she saw in the child naught but the daily walk. It is +such a pretty sight, the little bundle of finery, with floating ribbons +and long feathers, that follows young mothers through the crowded +streets. + +When she wanted company she had only her parents or her husband. She +preferred to go out alone. The excellent Risler had such an absurd way +of showing his love for her, playing with her as if she were a doll, +pinching her chin and her cheek, capering about her, crying, "Hou! hou!" +or staring at her with his great, soft eyes like an affectionate and +grateful dog. That senseless love, which made of her a toy, a +mantel ornament, made her ashamed. As for her parents, they were an +embarrassment to her in presence of the people she wished to know, and +immediately after her marriage she almost got rid of them by hiring a +little house for them at Montrouge. That step had cut short the frequent +invasions of Monsieur Chebe and his long frock-coat, and the endless +visits of good Madame Chebe, in whom the return of comfortable +circumstances had revived former habits of gossip and of indolence. + +Sidonie would have been very glad to rid herself of the Delobelles in +the same way, for their proximity annoyed her. But the Marais was a +central location for the old actor, because the boulevard theatres were +so near; then, too, Desiree, like all sedentary persons, clung to the +familiar outlook, and her gloomy courtyard, dark at four o'clock in +winter, seemed to her like a friend, like a familiar face which the sun +lighted up at times as if it were smiling at her. As she was unable +to get rid of them, Sidonie had adopted the course of ceasing to visit +them. + +In truth, her life would have been lonely and depressing enough, had +it not been for the distractions which Claire Fromont procured for her. +Each time added fuel to her wrath. She would say to herself: + +"Must everything come to me through her?" + +And when, just at dinner-time, a box at the theatre or an invitation +for the evening was sent to her from the floor below, while she was +dressing, overjoyed at the opportunity to exhibit herself, she thought +of nothing but crushing her rival. But such opportunities became more +rare as Claire's time was more and more engrossed by her child. When +Grandfather Gardinois came to Paris, however, he never failed to bring +the two families together. The old peasant's gayety, for its freer +expansion, needed little Sidonie, who did not take alarm at his +jests. He would take them all four to dine at Philippe's, his favorite +restaurant, where he knew all the patrons, the waiters and the steward, +would spend a lot of money, and then take them to a reserved box at the +Opera-Comique or the Palais-Royal. + +At the theatre he laughed uproariously, talked familiarly with the +box-openers, as he did with the waiters at Philippe's, loudly demanded +footstools for the ladies, and when the performance was over insisted +on having the topcoats and fur wraps of his party first of all, as if he +were the only three-million parvenu in the audience. + +For these somewhat vulgar entertainments, from which her husband usually +excused himself, Claire, with her usual tact, dressed very plainly and +attracted no attention. Sidonie, on the contrary, in all her finery, in +full view of the boxes, laughed with all her heart at the grandfather's +anecdotes, happy to have descended from the second or third gallery, her +usual place in the old days, to that lovely proscenium box, adorned with +mirrors, with a velvet rail that seemed made expressly for her light +gloves, her ivory opera-glass, and her spangled fan. The tawdry glitter +of the theatre, the red and gold of the hangings, were genuine splendor +to her. She bloomed among them like a pretty paper flower in a filigree +jardiniere. + +One evening, at the performance of a successful play at the +Palais-Royal, among all the noted women who were present, painted +celebrities wearing microscopic hats and armed with huge fans, their +rouge-besmeared faces standing out from the shadow of the boxes in the +gaudy setting of their gowns, Sidonie's behavior, her toilette, the +peculiarities of her laugh and her expression attracted much attention. +All the opera-glasses in the hall, guided by the magnetic current that +is so powerful under the great chandeliers, were turned one by one upon +the box in which she sat. Claire soon became embarrassed, and modestly +insisted upon changing places with her husband, who, unluckily, had +accompanied them that evening. + +Georges, youthful and elegant, sitting beside Sidonie, seemed +her natural companion, while Risler Allie, always so placid and +self-effacing, seemed in his proper place beside Claire Fromont, who in +her dark clothes suggested the respectable woman incog. at the Bal de +l'Opera. + +Upon leaving the theatre each of the partners offered his arm to his +neighbor. A box-opener, speaking to Sidonie, referred to Georges as +"your husband," and the little woman beamed with delight. + +"Your husband!" + +That simple phrase was enough to upset her and set in motion a multitude +of evil currents in the depths of her heart. As they passed through the +corridors and the foyer, she watched Risler and Madame "Chorche" walking +in front of them. Claire's refinement of manner seemed to her to be +vulgarized and annihilated by Risler's shuffling gait. "How ugly he must +make me look when we are walking together!" she said to herself. And her +heart beat fast as she thought what a charming, happy, admired couple +they would have made, she and this Georges Fromont, whose arm was +trembling beneath her own. + +Thereupon, when the blue-lined carriage drove up to the door of the +theatre, she began to reflect, for the first time, that, when all was +said, Claire had stolen her place and that she would be justified in +trying to recover it. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. THE BREWERY ON THE RUE BLONDEL + +After his marriage Risler had given up the brewery. Sidonie would have +been glad to have him leave the house in the evening for a fashionable +club, a resort of wealthy, well-dressed men; but the idea of his +returning, amid clouds of pipe-smoke, to his friends of earlier days, +Sigismond, Delobelle, and her own father, humiliated her and made her +unhappy. So he ceased to frequent the place; and that was something of +a sacrifice. It was almost a glimpse of his native country, that brewery +situated in a remote corner of Paris. The infrequent carriages, the +high, barred windows of the ground floors, the odor of fresh drugs, of +pharmaceutical preparations, imparted to that narrow little Rue Blondel +a vague resemblance to certain streets in Basle or Zurich. + +The brewery was managed by a Swiss and crowded with men of that +nationality. When the door was opened, through the smoke-laden +atmosphere, dense with the accents of the North, one had a vision of +a vast, low room with hams hanging from the rafters, casks of beer +standing in a row, the floor ankle-deep with sawdust, and on the counter +great salad-bowls filled with potatoes as red as chestnuts, and baskets +of pretzels fresh from the oven, their golden knots sprinkled with white +salt. + +For twenty years Risler had had his pipe there, a long pipe marked with +his name in the rack reserved for the regular customers. He had also +his table, at which he was always joined by several discreet, quiet +compatriots, who listened admiringly, but without comprehending them, +to the endless harangues of Chebe and Delobelle. When Risler ceased his +visits to the brewery, the two last-named worthies likewise turned their +backs upon it, for several excellent reasons. In the first place, M. +Chebe now lived a considerable distance away. Thanks to the generosity +of his children, the dream of his whole life was realized at last. + +"When I am rich," the little man used to say in his cheerless rooms +in the Marais, "I will have a house of my own, at the gates of Paris, +almost in the country, a little garden which I will plant and water +myself. That will be better for my health than all the excitement of the +capital." + +Well, he had his house now, but he did not enjoy himself in it. It was +at Montrouge, on the road that runs around the city. "A small chalet, +with garden," said the advertisement, printed on a placard which gave an +almost exact idea of the dimensions of the property. The papers were new +and of rustic design, the paint perfectly fresh; a water-butt planted +beside a vine-clad arbor played the part of a pond. In addition to all +these advantages, only a hedge separated this paradise from another +"chalet with garden" of precisely the same description, occupied by +Sigismond Planus the cashier, and his sister. To Madame Chebe that was +a most precious circumstance. When the good woman was bored, she would +take a stock of knitting and darning and go and sit in the old maid's +arbor, dazzling her with the tale of her past splendors. Unluckily, her +husband had not the same source of distraction. + +However, everything went well at first. It was midsummer, and M. Chebe, +always in his shirt-sleeves, was busily employed in getting settled. +Each nail to be driven in the house was the subject of leisurely +reflections, of endless discussions. It was the same with the garden. +He had determined at first to make an English garden of it, lawns always +green, winding paths shaded by shrubbery. But the trouble of it was that +it took so long for the shrubbery to grow. + +"I have a mind to make an orchard of it," said the impatient little man. + +And thenceforth he dreamed of nothing but vegetables, long lines of +beans, and peach-trees against the wall. He dug for whole mornings, +knitting his brows in a preoccupied way and wiping his forehead +ostentatiously before his wife, so that she would say: + +"For heaven's sake, do rest a bit--you're killing yourself." + +The result was that the garden was a mixture: flowers and fruit, park +and kitchen garden; and whenever he went into Paris M. Chebe was careful +to decorate his buttonhole with a rose from his rose-bushes. + +While the fine weather lasted, the good people did not weary of admiring +the sunsets behind the fortifications, the long days, the bracing +country air. Sometimes, in the evening, when the windows were open, +they sang duets; and in presence of the stars in heaven, which began to +twinkle simultaneously with the lanterns on the railway around the city, +Ferdinand would become poetical. But when the rain came and he could not +go out, what misery! Madame Chebe, a thorough Parisian, sighed for +the narrow streets of the Marais, her expeditions to the market of +Blancs-Manteaux, and to the shops of the quarter. + +As she sat by the window, her usual place for sewing and observation, +she would gaze at the damp little garden, where the volubilis and the +nasturtiums, stripped of their blossoms, were dropping away from the +lattices with an air of exhaustion, at the long, straight line of the +grassy slope of the fortifications, still fresh and green, and, a +little farther on, at the corner of a street, the office of the Paris +omnibuses, with all the points of their route inscribed in enticing +letters on the green walls. Whenever one of the omnibuses lumbered away +on its journey, she followed it with her eyes, as a government clerk at +Cayenne or Noumea gazes after the steamer about to return to France; she +made the trip with it, knew just where it would stop, at what point it +would lurch around a corner, grazing the shop-windows with its wheels. + +As a prisoner, M. Chebe became a terrible trial. He could not work in +the garden. On Sundays the fortifications were deserted; he could no +longer strut about among the workingmen's families dining on the grass, +and pass from group to group in a neighborly way, his feet encased +in embroidered slippers, with the authoritative demeanor of a wealthy +landowner of the vicinity. This he missed more than anything else, +consumed as he was by the desire to make people think about him. So +that, having nothing to do, having no one to pose before, no one to +listen to his schemes, his stories, the anecdote of the accident to the +Duc d'Orleans--a similar accident had happened to him in his youth, +you remember--the unfortunate Ferdinand overwhelmed his wife with +reproaches. + +"Your daughter banishes us--your daughter is ashamed of us!" + +She heard nothing but that "Your daughter--your daughter--your +daughter!" For, in his anger with Sidonie, he denied her, throwing +upon his wife the whole responsibility for that monstrous and unnatural +child. It was a genuine relief for poor Madame Chebe when her husband +took an omnibus at the office to go and hunt up Delobelle--whose hours +for lounging were always at his disposal--and pour into his bosom all +his rancor against his son-in-law and his daughter. + +The illustrious Delobelle also bore Risler a grudge, and freely said of +him: "He is a dastard." + +The great man had hoped to form an integral part of the new household, +to be the organizer of festivities, the 'arbiter elegantiarum'. Instead +of which, Sidonie received him very coldly, and Risler no longer even +took him to the brewery. However, the actor did not complain too loud, +and whenever he met his friend he overwhelmed him with attentions and +flattery; for he had need of him. + +Weary of awaiting the discerning manager, seeing that the engagement he +had longed for so many years did not come, it had occurred to Delobelle +to purchase a theatre and manage it himself. He counted upon Risler for +the funds. Opportunely enough, a small theatre on the boulevard happened +to be for sale, as a result of the failure of its manager. Delobelle +mentioned it to Risler, at first very vaguely, in a wholly hypothetical +form--"There would be a good chance to make a fine stroke." Risler +listened with his usual phlegm, saying, "Indeed, it would be a good +thing for you." And to a more direct suggestion, not daring to answer, +"No," he took refuge behind such phrases as "I will see"--"Perhaps +later"--"I don't say no"--and finally uttered the unlucky words "I must +see the estimates." + +For a whole week the actor had delved away at plans and figures, seated +between his wife and daughter, who watched him in admiration, and +intoxicated themselves with this latest dream. The people in the house +said, "Monsieur Delobelle is going to buy a theatre." On the boulevard, +in the actors' cafes, nothing was talked of but this transaction. +Delobelle did not conceal the fact that he had found some one to +advance the funds; the result being that he was surrounded by a crowd +of unemployed actors, old comrades who tapped him familiarly on the +shoulder and recalled themselves to his recollection--"You know, old +boy." He promised engagements, breakfasted at the cafe, wrote letters +there, greeted those who entered with the tips of his fingers, held very +animated conversations in corners; and already two threadbare authors +had read to him a drama in seven tableaux, which was "exactly what he +wanted" for his opening piece. He talked about "my theatre!" and his +letters were addressed, "Monsieur Delobelle, Manager." + +When he had composed his prospectus and made his estimates, he went to +the factory to see Risler, who, being very busy, made an appointment to +meet him in the Rue Blondel; and that same evening, Delobelle, being the +first to arrive at the brewery, established himself at their old table, +ordered a pitcher of beer and two glasses, and waited. He waited a long +while, with his eye on the door, trembling with impatience. Whenever any +one entered, the actor turned his head. He had spread his papers on +the table, and pretended to be reading them, with animated gestures and +movements of the head and lips. + +It was a magnificent opportunity, unique in its way. He already fancied +himself acting--for that was the main point--acting, in a theatre of his +own, roles written expressly for him, to suit his talents, in which he +would produce all the effect of-- + +Suddenly the door opened, and M. Chebe made his appearance amid the +pipe-smoke. He was as surprised and annoyed to find Delobelle there as +Delobelle himself was by his coming. He had written to his son-in-law +that morning that he wished to speak with him on a matter of very +serious importance, and that he would meet him at the brewery. It was an +affair of honor, entirely between themselves, from man to man. The real +fact concerning this affair of honor was that M. Chebe had given notice +of his intention to leave the little house at Montrouge, and had hired +a shop with an entresol in the Rue du Mail, in the midst of a business +district. A shop? Yes, indeed! And now he was a little alarmed regarding +his hasty step, anxious to know how his son-in-law would take it, +especially as the shop cost much more than the Montrouge house, and +there were some repairs to be made at the outset. As he had long +been acquainted with his son-in-law's kindness of heart, M. Chebe had +determined to appeal to him at once, hoping to lead him into his game +and throw upon him the responsibility for this domestic change. Instead +of Risler he found Delobelle. + +They looked askance at each other, with an unfriendly eye, like two +dogs meeting beside the same dish. Each divined for whom the other was +waiting, and they did not try to deceive each other. + +"Isn't my son-in-law here?" asked M. Chebe, eying the documents spread +over the table, and emphasizing the words "my son-in-law," to indicate +that Risler belonged to him and to nobody else. + +"I am waiting for him," Delobelle replied, gathering up his papers. + +He pressed his lips together, as he added with a dignified, mysterious, +but always theatrical air: + +"It is a matter of very great importance." + +"So is mine," declared M. Chebe, his three hairs standing erect like a +porcupine's quills. + +As he spoke, he took his seat on the bench beside Delobelle, ordered a +pitcher and two glasses as the former had done, then sat erect with his +hands in his pockets and his back against the wall, waiting in his turn. +The two empty glasses in front of them, intended for the same absentee, +seemed to be hurling defiance at each other. + +But Risler did not come. + +The two men, drinking in silence, lost their patience and fidgeted about +on the bench, each hoping that the other would tire of waiting. + +At last their ill-humor overflowed, and naturally poor Risler received +the whole flood. + +"What an outrage to keep a man of my years waiting so long!" began M. +Chebe, who never mentioned his great age except upon such occasions. + +"I believe, on my word, that he is making sport of us," replied M. +Delobelle. + +And the other: + +"No doubt Monsieur had company to dinner." + +"And such company!" scornfully exclaimed the illustrious actor, in whose +mind bitter memories were awakened. + +"The fact is--" continued M. Chebe. + +They drew closer to each other and talked. The hearts of both were full +in respect to Sidonie and Risler. They opened the flood-gates. That +Risler, with all his good-nature, was an egotist pure and simple, a +parvenu. They laughed at his accent and his bearing, they mimicked +certain of his peculiarities. Then they talked about his household, +and, lowering their voices, they became confidential, laughed familiarly +together, were friends once more. + +M. Chebe went very far: "Let him beware! he has been foolish enough to +send the father and mother away from their daughter; if anything happens +to her, he can't blame us. A girl who hasn't her parents' example before +her eyes, you understand--" + +"Certainly--certainly," said Delobelle; "especially as Sidonie has +become a great flirt. However, what can you expect? He will get no more +than he deserves. No man of his age ought to--Hush! here he is!" + +Risler had entered the room, and was walking toward them, distributing +hand-shakes all along the benches. + +There was a moment of embarrassment between the three friends. Risler +excused himself as well as he could. He had been detained at home; +Sidonie had company--Delobelle touched M. Chebe's foot under the +table--and, as he spoke, the poor man, decidedly perplexed by the two +empty glasses that awaited him, wondered in front of which of the two he +ought to take his seat. + +Delobelle was generous. + +"You have business together, Messieurs; do not let me disturb you." + +He added in a low tone, winking at Risler: + +"I have the papers." + +"The papers?" echoed Risler, in a bewildered tone. + +"The estimates," whispered the actor. + +Thereupon, with a great show of discretion, he withdrew within himself, +and resumed the reading of his documents, his head in his hands and his +fingers in his ears. + +The two others conversed by his side, first in undertones, then louder, +for M. Chebe's shrill, piercing voice could not long be subdued.--He +wasn't old enough to be buried, deuce take it!--He should have died of +ennui at Montrouge.--What he must have was the bustle and life of the +Rue de Mail or the Rue du Sentier--of the business districts. + +"Yes, but a shop? Why a shop?" Risler timidly ventured to ask. + +"Why a shop?--why a shop?" repeated M. Chebe, red as an Easter egg, and +raising his voice to its highest pitch. "Why, because I'm a merchant, +Monsieur Risler, a merchant and son of a merchant. Oh! I see what you're +coming at. I have no business. But whose fault is it? If the people who +shut me up at Montrouge, at the gates of Bicetre, like a paralytic, had +had the good sense to furnish me with the money to start in business--" + +At that point Risler succeeded in silencing him, and thereafter +only snatches of the conversation could be heard: "a more convenient +shop--high ceilings--better air--future plans--enormous business--I will +speak when the time comes--many people will be astonished." + +As he caught these fragments of sentences, Delobelle became more and +more absorbed in his estimates, presenting the eloquent back of the man +who is not listening. Risler, sorely perplexed, slowly sipped his beer +from time to time to keep himself, in countenance. + +At last, when M. Chebe had grown calm, and with good reason, his +son-in-law turned with a smile to the illustrious Delobelle, and met the +stern, impassive glance which seemed to say, "Well! what of me?" + +"Ah! Mon Dieu!--that is true," thought the poor fellow. + +Changing at once his chair and his glass, he took his seat opposite the +actor. But M. Chebe had not Delobelle's courtesy. Instead of discreetly +moving away, he took his glass and joined the others, so that the great +man, unwilling to speak before him, solemnly replaced his documents in +his pocket a second time, saying to Risler: + +"We will talk this over later." + +Very much later, in truth, for M. Chebe had reflected: + +"My son-in-law is so good-natured! If I leave him with this swindler, +who knows what he may get out of him?" + +And he remained on guard. The actor was furious. It was impossible to +postpone the matter to some other day, for Risler told them that he was +going the next day to spend the next month at Savigny. + +"A month at Savigny!" exclaimed M. Chebe, incensed at the thought of his +son-in-law escaping him. "How about business?" + +"Oh! I shall come to Paris every day with Georges. Monsieur Gardinois is +very anxious to see his little Sidonie." + +M. Chebe shook his head. He considered it very imprudent. Business is +business. A man ought to be on the spot, always on the spot, in the +breach. Who could say?--the factory might take fire in the night. And he +repeated sententiously: "The eye of the master, my dear fellow, the eye +of the master," while the actor--who was little better pleased by this +intended departure--opened his great eyes; giving them an expression at +once cunning and authoritative, the veritable expression of the eye of +the master. + +At last, about midnight, the last Montrouge omnibus bore away the +tyrannical father-in-law, and Delobelle was able to speak. + +"Let us first look at the prospectus," he said, preferring not to attack +the question of figures at once; and with his eyeglasses on his nose, he +began, in a declamatory tone, always upon the stage: "When one considers +coolly the decrepitude which dramatic art has reached in France, when +one measures the distance that separates the stage of Moliere--" + +There were several pages like that. Risler listened, puffing at his +pipe, afraid to stir, for the reader looked at him every moment over his +eyeglasses, to watch the effect of his phrases. Unfortunately, right +in the middle of the prospectus, the cafe closed. The lights were +extinguished; they must go.--And the estimates?--It was agreed that they +should read them as they walked along. They stopped at every gaslight. +The actor displayed his figures. So much for the hall, so much for +the lighting, so much for poor-rates, so much for the actors. On that +question of the actors he was firm. + +"The best point about the affair," he said, "is that we shall have +no leading man to pay. Our leading man will be Bibi." (When Delobelle +mentioned himself, he commonly called himself Bibi.) "A leading man is +paid twenty thousand francs, and as we have none to pay, it's just as +if you put twenty thousand francs in your pocket. Tell me, isn't that +true?" + +Risler did not reply. He had the constrained manner, the wandering eyes +of the man whose thoughts are elsewhere. The reading of the estimates +being concluded, Delobelle, dismayed to find that they were drawing +near the corner of the Rue des Vieilles-Haudriettes, put the question +squarely. Would Risler advance the money, yes or no? + +"Well!--no," said Risler, inspired by heroic courage, which he owed +principally to the proximity of the factory and to the thought that the +welfare of his family was at stake. + +Delobelle was astounded. He had believed that the business was as good +as done, and he stared at his companion, intensely agitated, his eyes as +big as saucers, and rolling his papers in his hand. + +"No," Risler continued, "I can't do what you ask, for this reason." + +Thereupon the worthy man, slowly, with his usual heaviness of speech, +explained that he was not rich. Although a partner in a wealthy house, +he had no available funds. Georges and he drew a certain sum from the +concern each month; then, when they struck a balance at the end of the +year they divided the profits. It had cost him a good deal to begin +housekeeping: all his savings. It was still four months before the +inventory. Where was he to obtain the 30,000 francs to be paid down at +once for the theatre? And then, beyond all that, the affair could not be +successful. + +"Why, it must succeed. Bibi will be there!" As he spoke, poor Bibi drew +himself up to his full height; but Risler was determined, and all Bibi's +arguments met the same refusal--"Later, in two or three years, I don't +say something may not be done." + +The actor fought for a long time, yielding his ground inch by inch. He +proposed revising his estimates. The thing might be done cheaper. "It +would still be too dear for me," Risler interrupted. "My name doesn't +belong to me. It is a part of the firm. I have no right to pledge it. +Imagine my going into bankruptcy!" His voice trembled as he uttered the +word. + +"But if everything is in my name," said Delobelle, who had no +superstition. He tried everything, invoked the sacred interests of +art, went so far as to mention the fascinating actresses whose alluring +glances--Risler laughed aloud. + +"Come, come, you rascal! What's that you're saying? You forget that +we're both married men, and that it is very late and our wives +are expecting us. No ill-will, eh?--This is not a refusal, you +understand.--By the way, come and see me after the inventory. We will +talk it over again. Ah! there's Pere Achille putting out his gas.--I +must go in. Good-night." + +It was after one o'clock when the actor returned home. The two women +were waiting for him, working as usual, but with a sort of feverish +activity which was strange to them. Every moment the great scissors that +Mamma Delobelle used to cut the brass wire were seized with strange fits +of trembling, and Desiree's little fingers, as she mounted an insect, +moved so fast that it made one dizzy to watch them. Even the long +feathers of the little birds scattered about on the table before her +seemed more brilliant, more richly colored, than on other days. It was +because a lovely visitor named Hope had called upon them that evening. +She had made the tremendous effort required to climb five dark flights +of stairs, and had opened the door of the little room to cast a luminous +glance therein. However much you may have been deceived in life, those +magic gleams always dazzle you. + +"Oh! if your father could only succeed!" said Mamma Delobelle from time +to time, as if to sum up a whole world of happy thoughts to which her +reverie abandoned itself. + +"He will succeed, mamma, never fear. Monsieur Risler is so kind, I will +answer for him. And Sidonie is very fond of us, too, although since she +was married she does seem to neglect her old friends a little. But we +must make allowance for the difference in our positions. Besides, I +never shall forget what she did for me." + +And, at the thought of what Sidonie had done for her, the little +cripple applied herself with even more feverish energy to her work. Her +electrified fingers moved with redoubled swiftness. You would have +said that they were running after some fleeing, elusive thing, like +happiness, for example, or the love of some one who loves you not. + +"What was it that she did for you?" her mother would naturally have +asked her; but at that moment she was only slightly interested in what +her daughter said. She was thinking exclusively of her great man. + +"No! do you think so, my dear? Just suppose your father should have a +theatre of his own and act again as in former days. You don't remember; +you were too small then. But he had tremendous success, no end of +recalls. One night, at Alencon, the subscribers to the theatre gave +him a gold wreath. Ah! he was a brilliant man in those days, so +lighthearted, so glad to be alive. Those who see him now don't know him, +poor man, misfortune has changed him so. Oh, well! I feel sure that all +that's necessary is a little success to make him young and happy again. +And then there's money to be made managing theatres. The manager at +Nantes had a carriage. Can you imagine us with a carriage? Can you +imagine it, I say? That's what would be good for you. You could go out, +leave your armchair once in a while. Your father would take us into +the country. You would see the water and the trees you have had such a +longing to see." + +"Oh! the trees," murmured the pale little recluse, trembling from head +to foot. + +At that moment the street door of the house was closed violently, and M. +Delobelle's measured step echoed in the vestibule. There was a moment of +speechless, breathless anguish. The women dared not look at each other, +and mamma's great scissors trembled so that they cut the wire crooked. + +The poor devil had unquestionably received a terrible blow. His +illusions crushed, the humiliation of a refusal, the jests of his +comrades, the bill at the cafe where he had breakfasted on credit during +the whole period of his managership, a bill which must be paid--all +these things occurred to him in the silence and gloom of the five +flights he had to climb. His heart was torn. Even so, the actor's nature +was so strong in him that he deemed it his duty to envelop his distress, +genuine as it was, in a conventional tragic mask. + +As he entered, he paused, cast an ominous glance around the work-room, +at the table covered with work, his little supper waiting for him in +a corner, and the two dear, anxious faces looking up at him with +glistening eyes. He stood a full minute without speaking--and you know +how long a minute's silence seems on the stage; then he took three steps +forward, sank upon a low chair beside the table, and exclaimed in a +hissing voice: + +"Ah! I am accursed!" + +At the same time he dealt the table such a terrible blow with his fist +that the "birds and insects for ornament" flew to the four corners of +the room. His terrified wife rose and timidly approached him, while +Desiree half rose in her armchair with an expression of nervous agony +that distorted all her features. + +Lolling in his chair, his arms hanging despondently by his sides, his +head on his chest, the actor soliloquized--a fragmentary soliloquy, +interrupted by sighs and dramatic hiccoughs, overflowing with +imprecations against the pitiless, selfish bourgeois, those monsters to +whom the artist gives his flesh and blood for food and drink. + +Then he reviewed his whole theatrical life, his early triumphs, the +golden wreath from the subscribers at Alencon, his marriage to this +"sainted woman," and he pointed to the poor creature who stood by his +side, with tears streaming from her eyes, and trembling lips, nodding +her head dotingly at every word her husband said. + +In very truth, a person who never had heard of the illustrious Delobelle +could have told his history in detail after that long monologue. He +recalled his arrival in Paris, his humiliations, his privations. Alas! +he was not the one who had known privation. One had but to look at his +full, rotund face beside the thin, drawn faces of the two women. But the +actor did not look so closely. + +"Oh!" he said, continuing to intoxicate himself with declamatory +phrases, "oh! to have struggled so long. For ten years, fifteen years, +have I struggled on, supported by these devoted creatures, fed by them." + +"Papa, papa, hush," cried Desiree, clasping her hands. + +"Yes, fed by them, I say--and I do not blush for it. For I accept all +this devotion in the name of sacred art. But this is too much. Too much +has been put upon me. I renounce the stage!" + +"Oh! my dear, what is that you say?" cried Mamma Delobelle, rushing to +his side. + +"No, leave me. I have reached the end of my strength. They have slain +the artist in me. It is all over. I renounce the stage." + +If you had seen the two women throw their arms about him then, implore +him to struggle on, prove to him that he had no right to give up, you +could not have restrained your tears. But Delobelle resisted. + +He yielded at last, however, and promised to continue the fight a little +while, since it was their wish; but it required many an entreaty and +caress to carry the point. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. AT SAVIGNY + +It was a great misfortune, that sojourn of the two families at Savigny +for a month. + +After an interval of two years Georges and Sidonie found themselves +side by side once more on the old estate, too old not to be always like +itself, where the stones, the ponds, the trees, always the same, seemed +to cast derision upon all that changes and passes away. A renewal of +intercourse under such circumstances must have been disastrous to two +natures that were not of a very different stamp, and far more virtuous +than those two. + +As for Claire, she never had been so happy; Savigny never had seemed so +lovely to her. What joy to walk with her child over the greensward where +she herself had walked as a child; to sit, a young mother, upon the +shaded seats from which her own mother had looked on at her childish +games years before; to go, leaning on Georges's arm, to seek out the +nooks where they had played together. She felt a tranquil contentment, +the overflowing happiness of placid lives which enjoy their bliss in +silence; and all day long her skirts swept along the paths, guided by +the tiny footsteps of the child, her cries and her demands upon her +mother's care. + +Sidonie seldom took part in these maternal promenades. She said that +the chatter of children tired her, and therein she agreed with old +Gardinois, who seized upon any pretext to annoy his granddaughter. +He believed that he accomplished that object by devoting himself +exclusively to Sidonie, and arranging even more entertainments for her +than on her former visit. The carriages that had been shut up in the +carriage-house for two years, and were dusted once a week because +the spiders spun their webs on the silk cushions, were placed at her +disposal. The horses were harnessed three times a day, and the gate was +continually turning on its hinges. Everybody in the house followed this +impulse of worldliness. The gardener paid more attention to his flowers +because Madame Risler selected the finest ones to wear in her hair at +dinner. And then there were calls to be made. Luncheon parties were +given, gatherings at which Madame Fromont Jeune presided, but at which +Sidonie, with her lively manners, shone supreme. Indeed, Claire often +left her a clear field. The child had its hours for sleeping and riding +out, with which no amusements could interfere. The mother was compelled +to remain away, and it often happened that she was unable to go with +Sidonie to meet the partners when they came from Paris at night. + +"You will make my excuses," she would say, as the went up to her room. + +Madame Risler was triumphant. A picture of elegant indolence, she would +drive away behind the galloping horses, unconscious of the swiftness of +their pace, without a thought in her mind. + +Other carriages were always waiting at the station. Two or three times +she heard some one near her whisper, "That is Madame Fromont Jeune," +and, indeed, it was a simple matter for people to make the mistake, +seeing the three return together from the station, Sidonie sitting +beside Georges on the back seat, laughing and talking with him, and +Risler facing them, smiling contentedly with his broad hands spread flat +upon his knees, but evidently feeling a little out of place in that fine +carriage. The thought that she was taken for Madame Fromont made her +very proud, and she became a little more accustomed to it every day. On +their arrival at the chateau, the two families separated until dinner; +but, in the presence of his wife sitting tranquilly beside the sleeping +child, Georges Fromont, too young to be absorbed by the joys of +domesticity, was continually thinking of the brilliant Sidonie, whose +voice he could hear pouring forth triumphant roulades under the trees in +the garden. + +While the whole chateau was thus transformed in obedience to the whims +of a young woman, old Gardinois continued to lead the narrow life of +a discontented, idle, impotent 'parvenu'. The most successful means of +distraction he had discovered was espionage. The goings and comings of +his servants, the remarks that were made about him in the kitchen, +the basket of fruit and vegetables brought every morning from the +kitchen-garden to the pantry, were objects of continual investigation. + +For the purposes of this constant spying upon his household, he made +use of a stone bench set in the gravel behind an enormous Paulownia. +He would sit there whole days at a time, neither reading nor thinking, +simply watching to see who went in or out. For the night he had invented +something different. In the great vestibule at the main entrance, which +opened upon the front steps with their array of bright flowers, he had +caused an opening to be made leading to his bedroom on the floor above. +An acoustic tube of an improved type was supposed to convey to his +ears every sound on the ground floor, even to the conversation of the +servants taking the air on the steps. + +Unluckily, the instrument was so powerful that it exaggerated all the +noises, confused them and prolonged them, and the powerful, regular +ticking of a great clock, the cries of a paroquet kept in one of the +lower rooms, the clucking of a hen in search of a lost kernel of corn, +were all Monsieur Gardinois could hear when he applied his ear to the +tube. As for voices, they reached him in the form of a confused buzzing, +like the muttering of a crowd, in which it was impossible to distinguish +anything. He had nothing to show for the expense of the apparatus, and +he concealed his wonderful tube in a fold of his bed-curtains. + +One night Gardinois, who had fallen asleep, was awakened suddenly by +the creaking of a door. It was an extraordinary thing at that hour. The +whole house hold was asleep. Nothing could be heard save the footsteps +of the watch-dogs on the sand, or their scratching at the foot of a +tree in which an owl was screeching. An excellent opportunity to use +his listening-tube! Upon putting it to his ear, M. Gardinois was assured +that he had made no mistake. The sounds continued. One door was opened, +then another. The bolt of the front door was thrown back with an +effort. But neither Pyramus nor Thisbe, not even Kiss, the formidable +Newfoundland, had made a sign. He rose softly to see who those strange +burglars could be, who were leaving the house instead of entering it; +and this is what he saw through the slats of his blind: + +A tall, slender young man, with Georges's figure and carriage, +arm-in-arm with a woman in a lace mantilla. They stopped first at the +bench by the Paulownia, which was in full bloom. + +It was a superb moonlight night. The moon, silvering the treetops, made +numberless flakes of light amid the dense foliage. The terraces, white +with moonbeams, where the Newfoundlands in their curly coats went to +and fro, watching the night butterflies, the smooth, deep waters of +the ponds, all shone with a mute, calm brilliance, as if reflected in +a silver mirror. Here and there glow-worms twinkled on the edges of the +greensward. + +The two promenaders remained for a moment beneath the shade of the +Paulownia, sitting silent on the bench, lost in the dense darkness which +the moon makes where its rays do not reach. Suddenly they appeared in +the bright light, wrapped in a languishing embrace; then walked slowly +across the main avenue, and disappeared among the trees. + +"I was sure of it!" said old Gardinois, recognizing them. Indeed, what +need had he to recognize them? Did not the silence of the dogs, the +aspect of the sleeping house, tell him more clearly than anything else +could, what species of impudent crime, unknown and unpunished, haunted +the avenues in his park by night? Be that as it may, the old peasant +was overjoyed by his discovery. He returned to bed without a +light, chuckling to himself, and in the little cabinet filled with +hunting-implements, whence he had watched them, thinking at first that +he had to do with burglars, the moon's rays shone upon naught save the +fowling-pieces hanging on the wall and the boxes of cartridges of all +sizes. + +Sidonie and Georges had taken up the thread of their love at the corner +of the same avenue. The year that had passed, marked by hesitation, by +vague struggles, by fruitless resistance, seemed to have been only a +preparation for their meeting. And it must be said that, when once the +fatal step was taken, they were surprised at nothing so much as the +fact that they had postponed it so long. Georges Fromont especially was +seized by a mad passion. He was false to his wife, his best friend; he +was false to Risler, his partner, the faithful companion of his every +hour. + +He felt a constant renewal, a sort of overflow of remorse, wherein his +passion was intensified by the magnitude of his sin. Sidonie became his +one engrossing thought, and he discovered that until then he had not +lived. As for her, her love was made up of vanity and spite. The thing +that she relished above all else was Claire's degradation in her eyes. +Ah! if she could only have said to her, "Your husband loves me--he is +false to you with me," her pleasure would have been even greater. As for +Risler, in her view he richly deserved what had happened to him. In her +old apprentice's jargon, in which she still thought, even if she did not +speak it, the poor man was only "an old fool," whom she had taken as a +stepping-stone to fortune. "An old fool" is made to be deceived! + +During the day Savigny belonged to Claire, to the child who ran about +upon the gravel, laughing at the birds and the clouds, and who grew +apace. The mother and child had for their own the daylight, the paths +filled with sunbeams. But the blue nights were given over to sin, to +that sin firmly installed in the chateau, which spoke in undertones, +crept noiselessly behind the closed blinds, and in face of which +the sleeping house became dumb and blind, and resumed its stony +impassibility, as if it were ashamed to see and hear. + + + + +CHAPTER X. SIGISMOND PLANUS TREMBLES FOR HIS CASH-BOX. + + +"Carriage, my dear Chorche?--I--have a carriage? What for?" + +"I assure you, my dear Risler, that it is quite essential for you. Our +business, our relations, are extending every day; the coupe is no longer +enough for us. Besides, it doesn't look well to see one of the partners +always in his carriage and the other on foot. Believe me, it is a +necessary outlay, and of course it will go into the general expenses of +the firm. Come, resign yourself to the inevitable." + +It was genuine resignation. It seemed to Risler as if he were stealing +something in taking the money for such an unheard-of luxury as a +carriage; however, he ended by yielding to Georges's persistent +representations, thinking as he did so: + +"This will make Sidonie very happy!" + +The poor fellow had no suspicion that Sidonie herself, a month before, +had selected at Binder's the coupe which Georges insisted upon giving +her, and which was to be charged to expense account in order not to +alarm the husband. + +Honest Risler was so plainly created to be deceived. His inborn +uprightness, the implicit confidence in men and things, which was the +foundation of his transparent nature, had been intensified of late +by preoccupation resulting from his pursuit of the Risler Press, +an invention destined to revolutionize the wall-paper industry and +representing in his eyes his contribution to the partnership assets. +When he laid aside his drawings and left his little work-room on the +first floor, his face invariably wore the absorbed look of the man who +has his life on one side, his anxieties on another. What a delight it +was to him, therefore, to find his home always tranquil, his wife always +in good humor, becomingly dressed and smiling. + +Without undertaking to explain the change to himself, he recognized +that for some time past the "little one" had not been as before in her +treatment of him. She allowed him to resume his old habits: the pipe at +dessert, the little nap after dinner, the appointments at the brewery +with Chebe and Delobelle. Their apartments also were transformed, +embellished. + +A grand piano by a famous maker made its appearance in the salon in +place of the old one, and Madame Dobson, the singing-teacher, came no +longer twice a week, but every day, music-roll in hand. + +Of a curious type was that young woman of American extraction, with hair +of an acid blond, like lemon-pulp, over a bold forehead and metallic +blue eyes. As her husband would not allow her to go on the stage, she +gave lessons, and sang in some bourgeois salons. As a result of living +in the artificial world of compositions for voice and piano, she had +contracted a species of sentimental frenzy. + +She was romance itself. In her mouth the words "love" and "passion" +seemed to have eighty syllables, she uttered them with so much +expression. Oh, expression! That was what Mistress Dobson placed before +everything, and what she tried, and tried in vain, to impart to her +pupil. + +'Ay Chiquita,' upon which Paris fed for several seasons, was then at the +height of its popularity. Sidonie studied it conscientiously, and all +the morning she could be heard singing: + + "On dit que tu te maries, + Tu sais que j'en puis mourir." + + [They say that thou'rt to marry + Thou know'st that I may die.] + +"Mouri-i-i-i-i-r!" the expressive Madame Dobson would interpose, while +her hands wandered feebly over the piano-keys; and die she would, +raising her light blue eyes to the ceiling and wildly throwing back her +head. Sidonie never could accomplish it. Her mischievous eyes, her +lips, crimson with fulness of life, were not made for such AEolian-harp +sentimentalities. The refrains of Offenbach or Herve, interspersed with +unexpected notes, in which one resorts to expressive gestures for aid, +to a motion of the head or the body, would have suited her better; but +she dared not admit it to her sentimental instructress. By the way, +although she had been made to sing a great deal at Mademoiselle Le +Mire's, her voice was still fresh and not unpleasing. + +Having no social connections, she came gradually to make a friend of her +singing-mistress. She would keep her to breakfast, take her to drive in +the new coupe and to assist in her purchases of gowns and jewels. Madame +Dobson's sentimental and sympathetic tone led one to repose confidence +in her. Her continual repinings seemed too long to attract other +repinings. Sidonie told her of Georges, of their relations, attempting +to palliate her offence by blaming the cruelty of her parents in +marrying her by force to a man much older than herself. Madame Dobson at +once showed a disposition to assist them; not that the little woman was +venal, but she had a passion for passion, a taste for romantic intrigue. +As she was unhappy in her own home, married to a dentist who beat her, +all husbands were monsters in her eyes, and poor Risler especially +seemed to her a horrible tyrant whom his wife was quite justified in +hating and deceiving. + +She was an active confidant and a very useful one. Two or three times a +week she would bring tickets for a box at the Opera or the Italiens, or +some one of the little theatres which enjoy a temporary vogue, and cause +all Paris to go from one end of Paris to the other for a season. In +Risler's eyes the tickets came from Madame Dobson; she had as many as +she chose to the theatres where operas were given. The poor wretch had +no suspicion that one of those boxes for an important "first night" had +often cost his partner ten or fifteen Louis. + +In the evening, when his wife went away, always splendidly attired, he +would gaze admiringly at her, having no suspicion of the cost of her +costumes, certainly none of the man who paid for them, and would await +her return at his table by the fire, busy with his drawings, free from +care, and happy to be able to say to himself, "What a good time she is +having!" + +On the floor below, at the Fromonts', the same comedy was being played, +but with a transposition of parts. There it was the young wife who sat +by the fire. Every evening, half an hour after Sidonie's departure, the +great gate swung open to give passage to the Fromont coupe conveying +Monsieur to his club. What would you have? Business has its demands. All +the great deals are arranged at the club, around the bouillotte table, +and a man must go there or suffer the penalty of seeing his business +fall off. Claire innocently believed it all. When her husband had gone, +she felt sad for a moment. She would have liked so much to keep him with +her or to go out leaning on his arm, to seek enjoyment with him. But the +sight of the child, cooing in front of the fire and kicking her little +pink feet while she was being undressed, speedily soothed the mother. +Then the eloquent word "business," the merchant's reason of state, was +always at hand to help her to resign herself. + +Georges and Sidonie met at the theatre. Their feeling at first when they +were together was one of satisfied vanity. People stared at them a +great deal. She was really pretty now, and her irregular but attractive +features, which required the aid of all the eccentricities of the +prevailing style in order to produce their full effect, adapted +themselves to them so perfectly that you would have said they were +invented expressly for her. In a few moments they went away, and Madame +Dobson was left alone in the box. They had hired a small suite on the +Avenue Gabriel, near the 'rond-point' of the Champs Elysees--the +dream of the young women at the Le Mire establishment--two luxuriously +furnished, quiet rooms, where the silence of the wealthy quarter, +disturbed only by passing carriages, formed a blissful surrounding for +their love. + +Little by little, when she had become accustomed to her sin, she +conceived the most audacious whims. From her old working-days she had +retained in the depths of her memory the names of public balls, of +famous restaurants, where she was eager to go now, just as she +took pleasure in causing the doors to be thrown open for her at the +establishments of the great dressmakers, whose signs only she had known +in her earlier days. For what she sought above all else in this liaison +was revenge for the sorrows and humiliations of her youth. Nothing +delighted her so much, for example, when returning from an evening +drive in the Bois, as a supper at the Cafe Anglais with the sounds of +luxurious vice around her. From these repeated excursions she brought +back peculiarities of speech and behavior, equivocal songs, and a +style of dress that imported into the bourgeois atmosphere of the old +commercial house an accurate reproduction of the most advanced type of +the Paris cocotte of that period. + +At the factory they began to suspect something. The women of the people, +even the poorest, are so quick at picking a costume to pieces! When +Madame Risler went out, about three o'clock, fifty pairs of sharp, +envious eyes, lying in ambush at the windows of the polishing-shop, +watched her pass, penetrating to the lowest depths of her guilty +conscience through her black velvet dolman and her cuirass of sparkling +jet. + +Although she did not suspect it, all the secrets of that mad brain were +flying about her like the ribbons that played upon her bare neck; and +her daintily-shod feet, in their bronzed boots with ten buttons, told +the story of all sorts of clandestine expeditions, of the carpeted +stairways they ascended at night on their way to supper, and the warm +fur robes in which they were wrapped when the coupe made the circuit of +the lake in the darkness dotted with lanterns. + +The work-women laughed sneeringly and whispered: + +"Just look at that Tata Bebelle! A fine way to dress to go out. She +don't rig herself up like that to go to mass, that's sure! To think that +it ain't three years since she used to start for the shop every morning +in an old waterproof, and two sous' worth of roasted chestnuts in her +pockets to keep her fingers warm. Now she rides in her carriage." + +And amid the talc dust and the roaring of the stoves, red-hot in winter +and summer alike, more than one poor girl reflected on the caprice of +chance in absolutely transforming a woman's existence, and began to +dream vaguely of a magnificent future which might perhaps be in store +for herself without her suspecting it. + +In everybody's opinion Risler was a dishonored husband. Two +assistants in the printing-room--faithful patrons of the Folies +Dramatiques--declared that they had seen Madame Risler several times at +their theatre, accompanied by some escort who kept out of sight at the +rear of the box. Pere Achille, too, told of amazing things. That Sidonie +had a lover, that she had several lovers, in fact, no one entertained a +doubt. But no one had as yet thought of Fromont jeune. + +And yet she showed no prudence whatever in her relations with him. On +the contrary, she seemed to make a parade of them; it may be that that +was what saved them. How many times she accosted him boldly on the +steps to agree upon a rendezvous for the evening! How many times she +had amused herself in making him shudder by looking into his eyes before +every one! When the first confusion had passed, Georges was grateful +to her for these exhibitions of audacity, which he attributed to the +intensity of her passion. He was mistaken. + +What she would have liked, although she did not admit it to herself, +would have been to have Claire see them, to have her draw aside the +curtain at her window, to have her conceive a suspicion of what was +passing. She needed that in order to be perfectly happy: that her rival +should be unhappy. But her wish was ungratified; Claire Fromont noticed +nothing and lived, as did Risler, in imperturbable serenity. + +Only Sigismond, the old cashier, was really ill at ease. And yet he was +not thinking of Sidonie when, with his pen behind his ear, he paused a +moment in his work and gazed fixedly through his grating at the drenched +soil of the little garden. He was thinking solely of his master, of +Monsieur "Chorche," who was drawing a great deal of money now for his +current expenses and sowing confusion in all his books. Every time +it was some new excuse. He would come to the little wicket with an +unconcerned air: + +"Have you a little money, my good Planus? I was worsted again at +bouillotte last night, and I don't want to send to the bank for such a +trifle." + +Sigismond Planus would open his cash-box, with an air of regret, to get +the sum requested, and he would remember with terror a certain day when +Monsieur Georges, then only twenty years old, had confessed to his uncle +that he owed several thousand francs in gambling debts. The elder man +thereupon conceived a violent antipathy for the club and contempt for +all its members. A rich tradesman who was a member happened to come to +the factory one day, and Sigismond said to him with brutal frankness: + +"The devil take your 'Cercle du Chateau d'Eau!' Monsieur Georges has +left more than thirty thousand francs there in two months." + +The other began to laugh. + +"Why, you're greatly mistaken, Pere Planus--it's at least three months +since we have seen your master." + +The cashier did not pursue the conversation; but a terrible thought took +up its abode in his mind, and he turned it over and over all day long. + +If Georges did not go to the club, where did he pass his evenings? Where +did he spend so much money? + +There was evidently a woman at the bottom of the affair. + +As soon as that idea occurred to him, Sigismond Planus began to tremble +seriously for his cash-box. That old bear from the canton of Berne, +a confirmed bachelor, had a terrible dread of women in general and +Parisian women in particular. He deemed it his duty, first of all, in +order to set his conscience at rest, to warn Risler. He did it at first +in rather a vague way. + +"Monsieur Georges is spending a great deal of money," he said to him one +day. + +Risler exhibited no surprise. + +"What do you expect me to do, my old Sigismond? It is his right." + +And the honest fellow meant what he said. In his eyes Fromont jeune +was the absolute master of the establishment. It would have been a fine +thing, and no mistake, for him, an ex-draughtsman, to venture to +make any comments. The cashier dared say no more until the day when a +messenger came from a great shawl-house with a bill for six thousand +francs for a cashmere shawl. + +He went to Georges in his office. + +"Shall I pay it, Monsieur?" + +Georges Fromont was a little annoyed. Sidonie had forgotten to tell him +of this latest purchase; she used no ceremony with him now. + +"Pay it, pay it, Pere Planus," he said, with a shade of embarrassment, +and added: "Charge it to the account of Fromont jeune. It is a +commission intrusted to me by a friend." + +That evening, as Sigismond was lighting his little lamp, he saw Risler +crossing the garden, and tapped on the window to call him. + +"It's a woman," he said, under his breath. "I have the proof of it now." + +As he uttered the awful words "a woman" his voice shook with alarm and +was drowned in the great uproar of the factory. The sounds of the +work in progress had a sinister meaning to the unhappy cashier at that +moment. It seemed to him as if all the whirring machinery, the great +chimney pouring forth its clouds of smoke, the noise of the workmen at +their different tasks--as if all this tumult and bustle and fatigue +were for the benefit of a mysterious little being, dressed in velvet and +adorned with jewels. + +Risler laughed at him and refused to believe him. He had long been +acquainted with his compatriot's mania for detecting in everything the +pernicious influence of woman. And yet Planus's words sometimes recurred +to his thoughts, especially in the evening when Sidonie, after all the +commotion attendant upon the completion of her toilette, went away to +the theatre with Madame Dobson, leaving the apartment empty as soon as +her long train had swept across the threshold. Candles burning in front +of the mirrors, divers little toilette articles scattered about and +thrown aside, told of extravagant caprices and a reckless expenditure of +money. Risler thought nothing of all that; but, when he heard Georges's +carriage rolling through the courtyard, he had a feeling of discomfort +at the thought of Madame Fromont passing her evenings entirely alone. +Poor woman! Suppose what Planus said were true! + +Suppose Georges really had a second establishment! Oh, it would be +frightful! + +Thereupon, instead of beginning to work, he would go softly downstairs +and ask if Madame were visible, deeming it his duty to keep her company. + +The little girl was always in bed, but the little cap, the blue shoes, +were still lying in front of the fire. Claire was either reading or +working, with her silent mother beside her, always rubbing or dusting +with feverish energy, exhausting herself by blowing on the case of her +watch, and nervously taking the same thing up and putting it down again +ten times in succession, with the obstinate persistence of mania. +Nor was honest Risler a very entertaining companion; but that did not +prevent the young woman from welcoming him kindly. She knew all that was +said about Sidonie in the factory; and although she did not believe half +of it, the sight of the poor man, whom his wife left alone so often, +moved her heart to pity. Mutual compassion formed the basis of that +placid friendship, and nothing could be more touching than these two +deserted ones, one pitying the other and each trying to divert the +other's thoughts. + +Seated at the small, brightly lighted table in the centre of the salon, +Risler would gradually yield to the influence of the warmth of the +fire and the harmony of his surroundings. He found there articles of +furniture with which he had been familiar for twenty years, the portrait +of his former employer; and his dear Madame Chorche, bending over some +little piece of needle work at his side, seemed to him even younger and +more lovable among all those old souvenirs. From time to time she would +rise to go and look at the child sleeping in the adjoining room, whose +soft breathing they could hear in the intervals of silence. Without +fully realizing it, Risler felt more comfortable and warmer there than +in his own apartment; for on certain days those attractive rooms, where +the doors were forever being thrown open for hurried exits or returns, +gave him the impression of a hall without doors or windows, open to +the four winds. His rooms were a camping-ground; this was a home. A +care-taking hand caused order and refinement to reign everywhere. The +chairs seemed to be talking together in undertones, the fire burned with +a delightful sound, and Mademoiselle Fromont's little cap retained +in every bow of its blue ribbons suggestions of sweet smiles and baby +glances. + +And while Claire was thinking that such an excellent man deserved a +better companion in life, Risler, watching the calm and lovely face +turned toward him, the intelligent, kindly eyes, asked himself who +the hussy could be for whom Georges Fromont neglected such an adorable +woman. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. THE INVENTORY + +The house in which old Planus lived at Montrouge adjoined the one which +the Chebes had occupied for some time. There was the same ground floor +with three windows, and a single floor above, the same garden with its +latticework fence, the same borders of green box. There the old cashier +lived with his sister. He took the first omnibus that left the office in +the morning, returned at dinner-time, and on Sundays remained at home, +tending his flowers and his poultry. The old maid was his housekeeper +and did all the cooking and sewing. A happier couple never lived. + +Celibates both, they were bound together by an equal hatred of marriage. +The sister abhorred all men, the brother looked upon all women with +suspicion; but they adored each other, each considering the other an +exception to the general perversity of the sex. + +In speaking of him she always said: "Monsieur Planus, my brother!"--and +he, with the same affectionate solemnity, interspersed all his sentences +with "Mademoiselle Planus, my sister!" To those two retiring and +innocent creatures, Paris, of which they knew nothing, although they +visited it every day, was a den of monsters of two varieties, bent upon +doing one another the utmost possible injury; and whenever, amid the +gossip of the quarter, a conjugal drama came to their ears, each of +them, beset by his or her own idea, blamed a different culprit. + +"It is the husband's fault," would be the verdict of "Mademoiselle +Planus, my sister." + +"It is the wife's fault," "Monsieur Planus, my brother," would reply. + +"Oh! the men--" + +"Oh! the women--" + +That was their one never-failing subject of discussion in those rare +hours of idleness which old Sigismond set aside in his busy day, which +was as carefully ruled off as his account-books. For some time past +the discussions between the brother and sister had been marked by +extraordinary animation. They were deeply interested in what was taking +place at the factory. The sister was full of pity for Madame Fromont +and considered her husband's conduct altogether outrageous; as for +Sigismond, he could find no words bitter enough for the unknown trollop +who sent bills for six-thousand-franc shawls to be paid from his +cashbox. In his eyes, the honor and fair fame of the old house he had +served since his youth were at stake. + +"What will become of us?" he repeated again and again. "Oh! these +women--" + +One day Mademoiselle Planus sat by the fire with her knitting, waiting +for her brother. + +The table had been laid for half an hour, and the old lady was beginning +to be worried by such unheard-of tardiness, when Sigismond entered with +a most distressed face, and without a word, which was contrary to all +his habits. + +He waited until the door was shut tight, then said in a low voice, in +response to his sister's disturbed and questioning expression: + +"I have some news. I know who the woman is who is doing her best to ruin +us." + +Lowering his voice still more, after glancing about at the silent +walls of their little dining-room, he uttered a name so unexpected that +Mademoiselle Planus made him repeat it. + +"Is it possible?" + +"It is the truth." + +And, despite his grief, he had almost a triumphant air. + +His old sister could not believe it. Such a refined, polite person, who +had received her with so much cordiality!--How could any one imagine +such a thing? + +"I have proofs," said Sigismond Planus. + +Thereupon he told her how Pere Achille had met Sidonie and Georges +one night at eleven o'clock, just as they entered a small furnished +lodging-house in the Montmartre quarter; and he was a man who never +lied. They had known him for a long while. Besides, others had met them. +Nothing else was talked about at the factory. Risler alone suspected +nothing. + +"But it is your duty to tell him," declared Mademoiselle Planus. + +The cashier's face assumed a grave expression. + +"It is a very delicate matter. In the first place, who knows whether +he would believe me? There are blind men so blind that--And then, by +interfering between the two partners, I risk the loss of my place. Oh! +the women--the women! When I think how happy Risler might have been. +When I sent for him to come to Paris with his brother, he hadn't a sou; +and to-day he is at the head of one of the first houses in Paris. Do +you suppose that he would be content with that? Oh! no, of course not! +Monsieur must marry. As if any one needed to marry! And, worse yet, he +marries a Parisian woman, one of those frowsy-haired chits that are the +ruin of an honest house, when he had at his hand a fine girl, of almost +his own age, a countrywoman, used to work, and well put together, as you +might say!" + +"Mademoiselle Planus, my sister," to whose physical structure he +alluded, had a magnificent opportunity to exclaim, "Oh! the men, the +men!" but she was silent. It was a very delicate question, and perhaps, +if Risler had chosen in time, he might have been the only one. + +Old Sigismond continued: + +"And this is what we have come to. For three months the leading +wall-paper factory in Paris has been tied to the petticoats of that +good-for-nothing. You should see how the money flies. All day long I do +nothing but open my wicket to meet Monsieur Georges's calls. He always +applies to me, because at his banker's too much notice would be taken of +it, whereas in our office money comes and goes, comes in and goes out. +But look out for the inventory! We shall have some pretty figures to +show at the end of the year. The worst part of the whole business is +that Risler won't listen to anything. I have warned him several times: +'Look out, Monsieur Georges is making a fool of himself for some woman.' +He either turns away with a shrug, or else he tells me that it is none +of his business and that Fromont Jeune is the master. Upon my word, one +would almost think--one would almost think--" + +The cashier did not finish his sentence; but his silence was pregnant +with unspoken thoughts. + +The old maid was appalled; but, like most women under such +circumstances, instead of seeking a remedy for the evil, she wandered +off into a maze of regrets, conjectures, and retrospective lamentations. +What a misfortune that they had not known it sooner when they had the +Chebes for neighbors. Madame Chebe was such an honorable woman. They +might have put the matter before her so that she would keep an eye on +Sidonie and talk seriously to her. + +"Indeed, that's a good idea," Sigismond interrupted. "You must go to +the Rue du Mail and tell her parents. I thought at first of writing to +little Frantz. He always had a great deal of influence over his brother, +and he's the only person on earth who could say certain things to him. +But Frantz is so far away. And then it would be such a terrible thing to +do. I can't help pitying that unlucky Risler, though. No! the best way +is to tell Madame Chebe. Will you undertake to do it, sister?" + +It was a dangerous commission. Mademoiselle Planus made some objections, +but she never had been able to resist her brother's wishes, and the +desire to be of service to their old friend Risler assisted materially +in persuading her. + +Thanks to his son-in-law's kindness, M. Chebe had succeeded in +gratifying his latest whim. For three months past he had been living +at his famous warehouse on the Rue du Mail, and a great sensation was +created in the quarter by that shop without merchandise, the shutters +of which were taken down in the morning and put up again at night, as +in wholesale houses. Shelves had been placed all around the walls, there +was a new counter, a safe, a huge pair of scales. In a word, M. Chebe +possessed all the requisites of a business of some sort, but did not +know as yet just what business he would choose. + +He pondered the subject all day as he walked to and fro across the shop, +encumbered with several large pieces of bedroom furniture which they had +been unable to get into the back room; he pondered it, too, as he stood +on his doorstep, with his pen behind his ear, and feasted his eyes +delightedly on the hurly-burly of Parisian commerce. The clerks who +passed with their packages of samples under their arms, the vans of the +express companies, the omnibuses, the porters, the wheelbarrows, the +great bales of merchandise at the neighboring doors, the packages of +rich stuffs and trimmings which were dragged in the mud before being +consigned to those underground regions, those dark holes stuffed with +treasures, where the fortune of business lies in embryo--all these +things delighted M. Chebe. + +He amused himself guessing at the contents of the bales and was first at +the fray when some passer-by received a heavy package upon his feet, +or the horses attached to a dray, spirited and restive, made the long +vehicle standing across the street an obstacle to circulation. He had, +moreover, the thousand-and-one distractions of the petty tradesman +without customers, the heavy showers, the accidents, the thefts, the +disputes. + +At the end of the day M. Chebe, dazed, bewildered, worn out by the labor +of other people, would stretch himself out in his easy-chair and say to +his wife, as he wiped his forehead: + +"That's the kind of life I need--an active life." + +Madame Chebe would smile softly without replying. Accustomed as she +was to all her husband's whims, she had made herself as comfortable +as possible in a back room with an outlook upon a dark yard, consoling +herself with reflections on the former prosperity of her parents and her +daughter's wealth; and, being always neatly dressed, she had succeeded +already in acquiring the respect of neighbors and tradesmen. + +She asked nothing more than not to be confounded with the wives of +workingmen, often less poor than herself, and to be allowed to retain, +in spite of everything, a petty bourgeois superiority. That was her +constant thought; and so the back room in which she lived, and where +it was dark at three in the afternoon, was resplendent with order and +cleanliness. During the day the bed became a couch, an old shawl did +duty as a tablecloth, the fireplace, hidden by a screen, served as a +pantry, and the meals were cooked in modest retirement on a stove no +larger than a foot-warmer. A tranquil life--that was the dream of the +poor woman, who was continually tormented by the whims of an uncongenial +companion. + +In the early days of his tenancy, M. Chebe had caused these words to be +inscribed in letters a foot long on the fresh paint of his shop-front: + + COMMISSION--EXPORTATION + +No specifications. His neighbors sold tulle, broadcloth, linen; he was +inclined to sell everything, but could not make up his mind just what. +With what arguments did his indecision lead him to favor Madame Chebe as +they sat together in the evening! + +"I don't know anything about linen; but when you come to broadcloth, +I understand that. Only, if I go into broadcloths I must have a man to +travel; for the best kinds come from Sedan and Elbeuf. I say nothing +about calicoes; summer is the time for them. As for tulle, that's out of +the question; the season is too far advanced." + +He usually brought his discourse to a close with the words: + +"The night will bring counsel--let us go to bed." + +And to bed he would go, to his wife's great relief. + +After three or four months of this life, M. Chebe began to tire of it. +The pains in the head, the dizzy fits gradually returned. The quarter +was noisy and unhealthy: besides, business was at a standstill. Nothing +was to be done in any line, broadcloths, tissues, or anything else. + +It was just at the period of this new crisis that "Mademoiselle Planus, +my sister," called to speak about Sidonie. + +The old maid had said to herself on the way, "I must break it gently." +But, like all shy people, she relieved herself of her burden in the +first words she spoke after entering the house. + +It was a stunning blow. When she heard the accusation made against her +daughter, Madame Chebe rose in indignation. No one could ever make her +believe such a thing. Her poor Sidonie was the victim of an infamous +slander. + +M. Chebe, for his part, adopted a very lofty tone, with significant +phrases and motions of the head, taking everything to himself as was his +custom. How could any one suppose that his child, a Chebe, the daughter +of an honorable business man known for thirty years on the street, was +capable of Nonsense! + +Mademoiselle Planus insisted. It was a painful thing to her to be +considered a gossip, a hawker of unsavory stories. But they had +incontestable proofs. It was no longer a secret to anybody. + +"And even suppose it were true," cried M. Chebe, furious at her +persistence. "Is it for us to worry about it? Our daughter is married. +She lives a long way from her parents. It is for her husband, who is +much older than she, to advise and guide her. Does he so much as think +of doing it?" + +Upon that the little man began to inveigh against his son-in-law, that +cold-blooded Swiss, who passed his life in his office devising +machines, refused to accompany his wife into society, and preferred his +old-bachelor habits, his pipe and his brewery, to everything else. + +You should have seen the air of aristocratic disdain with which M. Chebe +pronounced the word "brewery!" And yet almost every evening he went +there to meet Risler, and overwhelmed him with reproaches if he once +failed to appear at the rendezvous. + +Behind all this verbiage the merchant of the Rue du +Mail--"Commission-Exportation"--had a very definite idea. He wished to +give up his shop, to retire from business, and for some time he had been +thinking of going to see Sidonie, in order to interest her in his new +schemes. That was not the time, therefore, to make disagreeable scenes, +to prate about paternal authority and conjugal honor. As for Madame +Chebe, being somewhat less confident than before of her daughter's +virtue, she took refuge in the most profound silence. The poor +woman wished that she were deaf and blind--that she never had known +Mademoiselle Planus. + +Like all persons who have been very unhappy, she loved a benumbed +existence with a semblance of tranquillity, and ignorance seemed to her +preferable to everything. As if life were not sad enough, good heavens! +And then, after all, Sidonie had always been a good girl; why should she +not be a good woman? + +Night was falling. M. Chebe rose gravely to close the shutters of the +shop and light a gas-jet which illumined the bare walls, the empty, +polished shelves, and the whole extraordinary place, which reminded +one strongly of the day following a failure. With his lips closed +disdainfully, in his determination to remain silent, he seemed to say to +the old lady, "Night has come--it is time for you to go home." And all +the while they could hear Madame Chebe sobbing in the back room, as she +went to and fro preparing supper. + +Mademoiselle Planus got no further satisfaction from her visit. + +"Well?" queried old Sigismond, who was impatiently awaiting her return. + +"They wouldn't believe me, and politely showed me the door." + +She had tears in her eyes at the thought of her humiliation. + +The old man's face flushed, and he said in a grave voice, taking his +sister's hand: + +"Mademoiselle Planus, my sister, I ask your pardon for having made you +take this step; but the honor of the house of Fromont was at stake." + +From that moment Sigismond became more and more depressed. His cash-box +no longer seemed to him safe or secure. Even when Fromont Jeune did not +ask him for money, he was afraid, and he summed up all his apprehensions +in four words which came continually to his lips when talking with his +sister: + +"I ha no gonfidence," he would say, in his hoarse Swiss patois. + +Thinking always of his cash-box, he dreamed sometimes that it had broken +apart at all the joints, and insisted on remaining open, no matter how +much he turned the key; or else that a high wind had scattered all the +papers, notes, cheques, and bills, and that he ran after them all over +the factory, tiring himself out in the attempt to pick them up. + +In the daytime, as he sat behind his grating in the silence of his +office, he imagined that a little white mouse had eaten its way through +the bottom of the box and was gnawing and destroying all its contents, +growing plumper and prettier as the work of destruction went on. + +So that, when Sidonie appeared on the steps about the middle of the +afternoon, in her pretty Parisian plumage, old Sigismond shuddered with +rage. In his eyes it was the ruin of the house that stood there, ruin in +a magnificent costume, with its little coupe at the door, and the placid +bearing of a happy coquette. + +Madame Risler had no suspicion that, at that window on the ground +floor, sat an untiring foe who watched her slightest movements, the most +trivial details of her life, the going and coming of her music-teacher, +the arrival of the fashionable dressmaker in the morning, all the boxes +that were brought to the house, and the laced cap of the employe of the +Magasin du Louvre, whose heavy wagon stopped at the gate with a jingling +of bells, like a diligence drawn by stout horses which were dragging the +house of Fromont to bankruptcy at break-neck speed. + +Sigismond counted the packages, weighed them with his eye as they +passed, and gazed inquisitively into Risler's apartments through the +open windows. The carpets that were shaken with a great noise, the +jardinieres that were brought into the sunlight filled with fragile, +unseasonable flowers, rare and expensive, the gorgeous hangings--none of +these things escaped his notice. + +The new acquisitions of the household stared him in the face, reminding +him of some request for a large amount. + +But the one thing that he studied more carefully than all else was +Risler's countenance. + +In his view that woman was in a fair way to change his friend, the +best, the most upright of men, into a shameless villain. There was no +possibility of doubt that Risler knew of his dishonor, and submitted to +it. He was paid to keep quiet. + +Certainly there was something monstrous in such a supposition. But it +is the tendency of innocent natures, when they are made acquainted with +evil for the first time, to go at once too far, beyond reason. When he +was once convinced of the treachery of Georges and Sidonie, Risler's +degradation seemed to the cashier less impossible of comprehension. On +what other theory could his indifference, in the face of his partner's +heavy expenditures, be explained? + +The excellent Sigismond, in his narrow, stereotyped honesty, could +not understand the delicacy of Risler's heart. At the same time, the +methodical bookkeeper's habit of thought and his clear-sightedness +in business were a thousand leagues from that absent-minded, flighty +character, half-artist, half-inventor. He judged him by himself, having +no conception of the condition of a man with the disease of invention, +absorbed by a fixed idea. Such men are somnambulists. They look, but do +not see, their eyes being turned within. + +It was Sigismond's belief that Risler did see. That belief made the +old cashier very unhappy. He began by staring at his friend whenever +he entered the counting-room; then, discouraged by his immovable +indifference, which he believed to be wilful and premeditated, covering +his face like a mask, he adopted the plan of turning away and fumbling +among his papers to avoid those false glances, and keeping his eyes +fixed on the garden paths or the interlaced wires of the grating when +he spoke to him. Even his words were confused and distorted, like his +glances. No one could say positively to whom he was talking. + +No more friendly smiles, no more reminiscences as they turned over the +leaves of the cash-book together. + +"This was the year you came to the factory. Your first increase of pay. +Do you remember? We dined at Douix's that day. And then the Cafe des +Aveugles in the evening, eh? What a debauch!" + +At last Risler noticed the strange coolness that had sprung up between +Sigismond and himself. He mentioned it to his wife. + +For some time past she had felt that antipathy prowling about her. +Sometimes, as she crossed the courtyard, she was oppressed, as it were, +by malevolent glances which caused her to turn nervously toward the old +cashier's corner. This estrangement between the friends alarmed her, +and she very quickly determined to put her husband on his guard against +Planus's unpleasant remarks. + +"Don't you see that he is jealous of you, of your position? A man who +was once his equal, now his superior, he can't stand that. But why +bother one's head about all these spiteful creatures? Why, I am +surrounded by them here." + +Risler looked at her with wide-open eyes:--"You?" + +"Why, yes, it is easy enough to see that all these people detest me. +They bear little Chebe a grudge because she has become Madame Risler +Aine. Heaven only knows all the outrageous things that are said about +me! And your cashier doesn't keep his tongue in his pocket, I assure +you. What a spiteful fellow he is!" + +These few words had their effect. Risler, indignant, but too proud +to complain, met coldness with coldness. Those two honest men, each +intensely distrustful of the other, could no longer meet without a +painful sensation, so that, after a while, Risler ceased to go to the +counting-room at all. It was not difficult for him, as Fromont Jeune had +charge of all financial matters. His month's allowance was carried to +him on the thirtieth of each month. This arrangement afforded Sidonie +and Georges additional facilities, and opportunity for all sorts of +underhand dealing. + +She thereupon turned her attention to the completion of her programme of +a life of luxury. She lacked a country house. In her heart she detested +the trees, the fields, the country roads that cover you with dust. "The +most dismal things on earth," she used to say. But Claire Fromont passed +the summer at Savigny. As soon as the first fine days arrived, the +trunks were packed and the curtains taken down on the floor below; and +a great furniture van, with the little girl's blue bassinet rocking +on top, set off for the grandfather's chateau. Then, one morning, the +mother, grandmother, child, and nurse, a medley of white gowns and light +veils, would drive away behind two fast horses toward the sunny lawns +and the pleasant shade of the avenues. + +At that season Paris was ugly, depopulated; and although Sidonie loved +it even in the summer, which heats it like a furnace, it troubled her +to think that all the fashion and wealth of Paris were driving by the +seashore under their light umbrellas, and would make their outing an +excuse for a thousand new inventions, for original styles of the most +risque sort, which would permit one to show that one has a pretty ankle +and long, curly chestnut hair of one's own. + +The seashore bathing resorts! She could not think of them; Risler could +not leave Paris. + +How about buying a country house? They had not the means. To be sure, +there was the lover, who would have asked nothing better than to +gratify this latest whim; but a country house cannot be concealed like a +bracelet or a shawl. The husband must be induced to accept it. That was +not an easy matter; however, they might venture to try it with Risler. + +To pave the way, she talked to him incessantly about a little nook in +the country, not too expensive, very near Paris. Risler listened with +a smile. He thought of the high grass, of the orchard filled with fine +fruit-trees, being already tormented by the longing to possess which +comes with wealth; but, as he was prudent, he said: + +"We will see, we will see. Let us wait till the end of the year." + +The end of the year, that is to say, the striking of the balance-sheet. + +The balance-sheet! That is the magic word. All through the year we go +on and on in the eddying whirl of business. Money comes and goes, +circulates, attracts other money, vanishes; and the fortune of the firm, +like a slippery, gleaming snake, always in motion, expands, contracts, +diminishes, or increases, and it is impossible to know our condition +until there comes a moment of rest. Not until the inventory shall +we know the truth, and whether the year, which seems to have been +prosperous, has really been so. + +The account of stock is usually taken late in December, between +Christmas and New Year's Day. As it requires much extra labor to prepare +it, everybody works far into the night. The whole establishment is +alert. The lamps remain lighted in the offices long after the doors are +closed, and seem to share in the festal atmosphere peculiar to that +last week of the year, when so many windows are illuminated for family +gatherings. Every one, even to the least important 'employe' of the +firm, is interested in the results of the inventory. The increases of +salary, the New Year's presents, depend upon those blessed figures. And +so, while the vast interests of a wealthy house are trembling in the +balance, the wives and children and aged parents of the clerks, in their +fifth-floor tenements or poor apartments in the suburbs, talk of nothing +but the inventory, the results of which will make themselves felt +either by a greatly increased need of economy or by some purchase, long +postponed, which the New Year's gift will make possible at last. + +On the premises of Fromont Jeune and Risler Aine, Sigismond Planus is +the god of the establishment at that season, and his little office a +sanctuary where all the clerks perform their devotions. In the silence +of the sleeping factory, the heavy pages of the great books rustle as +they are turned, and names called aloud cause search to be made in other +books. Pens scratch. The old cashier, surrounded by his lieutenants, has +a businesslike, awe-inspiring air. From time to time Fromont Jeune, on +the point of going out in his carriage, looks in for a moment, with a +cigar in his mouth, neatly gloved and ready for the street. He walks +slowly, on tiptoe, puts his face to the grating: + +"Well!--are you getting on all right?" + +Sigismond gives a grunt, and the young master takes his leave, afraid to +ask any further questions. He knows from the cashier's expression that +the showing will be a bad one. + +In truth, since the days of the Revolution, when there was fighting in +the very courtyard of the factory, so pitiable an inventory never +had been seen in the Fromont establishment. Receipts and expenditures +balanced each other. The general expense account had eaten up +everything, and, furthermore, Fromont Jeune was indebted to the firm +in a large sum. You should have seen old Planus's air of consternation +when, on the 31st of December, he went up to Georges's office to make +report of his labors. + +Georges took a very cheerful view of the matter. Everything would go +better next year. And to restore the cashier's good humor he gave him +an extraordinary bonus of a thousand francs, instead of the five hundred +his uncle used always to give. Everybody felt the effects of that +generous impulse, and, in the universal satisfaction, the deplorable +results of the yearly accounting were very soon forgotten. As for +Risler, Georges chose to take it upon himself to inform him as to the +situation. + +When he entered his partner's little closet, which was lighted from +above by a window in the ceiling, so that the light fell directly upon +the subject of the inventor's meditations, Fromont hesitated a moment, +filled with shame and remorse for what he was about to do. + +The other, when he heard the door, turned joyfully toward his partner. + +"Chorche, Chorche, my dear fellow--I have got it, our press. There are +still a few little things to think out. But no matter! I am sure now +of my invention: you will see--you will see! Ah! the Prochassons can +experiment all they choose. With the Risler Press we will crush all +rivalry." + +"Bravo, my comrade!" replied Fromont Jeune. "So much for the future; but +you don't seem to think about the present. What about this inventory?" + +"Ah, yes! to be sure. I had forgotten all about it. It isn't very +satisfactory, is it?" + +He said that because of the somewhat disturbed and embarrassed +expression on Georges's face. + +"Why, yes, on the contrary, it is very satisfactory indeed," was the +reply. "We have every reason to be satisfied, especially as this is our +first year together. We have forty thousand francs each for our share of +the profits; and as I thought you might need a little money to give your +wife a New Year's present--" + +Ashamed to meet the eyes of the honest man whose confidence he was +betraying, Fromont jeune placed a bundle of cheques and notes on the +table. + +Risler was deeply moved for a moment. So much money at one time for him! +His mind dwelt upon the generosity of these Fromonts, who had made him +what he was; then he thought of his little Sidonie, of the longing which +she had so often expressed and which he would now be able to gratify. + +With tears in his eyes and a happy smile on his lips, he held out both +hands to his partner. + +"I am very happy! I am very happy!" + +That was his favorite phrase on great occasions. Then he pointed to the +bundles of bank notes spread out before him in the narrow bands which +are used to confine those fugitive documents, always ready to fly away. + +"Do you know what that is?" he said to Georges, with an air of triumph. +"That is Sidonie's house in the country!" + + + + +CHAPTER XII. A LETTER + + + "TO M. FRANTZ RISLER, + + "Engineer of the Compagnie Francaise, + "Ismailia, Egypt. + + "Frantz, my boy, it is old Sigismond who is writing to you. If I + knew better how to put my ideas on paper, I should have a very long + story to tell you. But this infernal French is too hard, and + Sigismond Planus is good for nothing away from his figures. So I + will come to the point at once. + + "Affairs in your brother's house are not as they should be. That + woman is false to him with his partner. She has made her husband a + laughing-stock, and if this goes on she will cause him to be looked + upon as a rascal. Frantz, my boy, you must come home at once. You + are the only one who can speak to Risler and open his eyes about + that little Sidonie. He would not believe any of us. Ask leave of + absence at once, and come. + + "I know that you have your bread to earn out there, and your future + to assure; but a man of honor should think more of the name his + parents gave him than of anything else. And I tell you that if you + do not come at once, a time will come when the name of Risler will + be so overwhelmed with shame that you will not dare to bear it. + + "SIGISMOND PLANUS, + "Cashier." + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. THE JUDGE + +Those persons who live always in doors, confined by work or infirmity to +a chair by the window, take a deep interest in the people who pass, just +as they make for themselves a horizon of the neighboring walls, roofs, +and windows. + +Nailed to their place, they live in the life of the streets; and the +busy men and women who pass within their range of vision, sometimes +every day at the same hour, do not suspect that they serve as the +mainspring of other lives, that interested eyes watch for their coming +and miss them if they happen to go to their destination by another road. + +The Delobelles, left to themselves all day, indulged in this sort of +silent observation. Their window was narrow, and the mother, whose eyes +were beginning to weaken as the result of hard usage, sat near the light +against the drawn muslin curtain; her daughter's large armchair was +a little farther away. She announced the approach of their daily +passers-by. It was a diversion, a subject of conversation; and the long +hours of toil seemed shorter, marked off by the regular appearance +of people who were as busy as they. There were two little sisters, a +gentleman in a gray overcoat, a child who was taken to school and taken +home again, and an old government clerk with a wooden leg, whose step on +the sidewalk had a sinister sound. + +They hardly ever saw him; he passed after dark, but they heard him, and +the sound always struck the little cripple's ears like a harsh echo +of her own mournful thoughts. All these street friends unconsciously +occupied a large place in the lives of the two women. If it rained, they +would say: + +"They will get wet. I wonder whether the child got home before the +shower." And when the season changed, when the March sun inundated the +sidewalks or the December snow covered them with its white mantle and +its patches of black mud, the appearance of a new garment on one of +their friends caused the two recluses to say to themselves, "It is +summer," or, "winter has come." + +Now, on a certain evening in May, one of those soft, luminous evenings +when life flows forth from the houses into the street through the open +windows, Desiree and her mother were busily at work with needles and +fingers, exhausting the daylight to its last ray, before lighting the +lamp. They could hear the shouts of children playing in the yards, the +muffled notes of pianos, and the voice of a street peddler, drawing his +half-empty wagon. One could smell the springtime in the air, a vague +odor of hyacinth and lilac. + +Mamma Delobelle had laid aside her work, and, before closing the window, +leaned upon the sill listening to all these noises of a great toiling +city, taking delight in walking through the streets when its day's work +was ended. From time to time she spoke to her daughter, without turning +her head. + +"Ah! there's Monsieur Sigismond. How early he leaves the factory +to-night! It may be because the days are lengthening so fast, but I +don't think it can be seven o'clock. Who can that man be with the old +cashier?--What a funny thing!--One would say--Why, yes!--One would say +it was Monsieur Frantz. But that isn't possible. Monsieur Frantz is a +long way from here at this moment; and then he had no beard. That man +looks like him all the same! Just look, my dear." + +But "my dear" does not leave her chair; she does not even stir. With +her eyes staring into vacancy, her needle in the air, arrested in its +pretty, industrious movement, she has gone away to the blue country, +that wonderful country whither one may go at will, without thought of +any infirmity. The name "Frantz," uttered mechanically by her mother, +because of a chance resemblance, represented to her a whole lifetime +of illusions, of fervent hopes, ephemeral as the flush that rose to her +cheeks when, on returning home at night, he used to come and chat with +her a moment. How far away that was already! To think that he used to +live in the little room near hers, that they used to hear his step on +the stairs and the noise made by his table when he dragged it to the +window to draw! What sorrow and what happiness she used to feel when he +talked to her of Sidonie, sitting on the low chair at her knees, while +she mounted her birds and her insects. + +As she worked, she used to cheer and comfort him, for Sidonie had caused +poor Frantz many little griefs before the last great one. His tone when +he spoke of Sidonie, the sparkle in his eyes when he thought of her, +fascinated Desiree in spite of everything, so that when he went away +in despair, he left behind him a love even greater than that he carried +with him--a love which the unchanging room, the sedentary, stagnant +life, kept intact with all its bitter perfume, whereas his would +gradually fade away and vanish in the fresh air of the outer world. + +It grows darker and darker. A great wave of melancholy envelops the poor +girl with the falling darkness of that balmy evening. The blissful gleam +from the past dies away as the last glimmer of daylight vanishes in the +narrow recess of the window, where her mother still stands leaning on +the sill. + +Suddenly the door opens. Some one is there whose features can not be +distinguished. Who can it be? The Delobelles never receive calls. The +mother, who has turned her head, thinks at first that some one has come +from the shop to get the week's work. + +"My husband has just gone to your place, Monsieur. We have nothing here. +Monsieur Delobelle has taken everything." + +The man comes forward without speaking, and as he approaches the window +his features can be distinguished. He is a tall, solidly built fellow +with a bronzed face, a thick, red beard, and a deep voice, and is a +little slow of speech. + +"Ah! so you don't know me, Mamma Delobelle?" + +"Oh! I knew you at once, Monsieur Frantz," said Desiree, very calmly, in +a cold, sedate tone. + +"Merciful heavens! it's Monsieur Frantz." + +Quickly Mamma Delobelle runs to the lamp, lights it, and closes the +window. + +"What! it is you, is it, my dear Frantz?" How coolly she says it, the +little rascal! "I knew you at once." Ah, the little iceberg! She will +always be the same. + +A veritable little iceberg, in very truth. She is very pale, and her +hand as it lies in Frantz's is white and cold. + +She seems to him improved, even more refined than before. He seems to +her superb, as always, with a melancholy, weary expression in the depths +of his eyes, which makes him more of a man than when he went away. + +His weariness is due to his hurried journey, undertaken immediately on +his receipt of Sigismond's letter. Spurred on by the word dishonor, he +had started instantly, without awaiting his leave of absence, risking +his place and his future prospects; and, hurrying from steamships to +railways, he had not stopped until he reached Paris. Reason enough for +being weary, especially when one has travelled in eager haste to reach +one's destination, and when one's mind has been continually beset by +impatient thoughts, making the journey ten times over in incessant doubt +and fear and perplexity. + +His melancholy began further back. It began on the day when the woman he +loved refused to marry him, to become, six months later, the wife of his +brother; two terrible blows in close succession, the second even more +painful than the first. It is true that, before entering into that +marriage, Risler had written to him to ask his permission to be happy, +and had written in such touching, affectionate terms that the violence +of the blow was somewhat diminished; and then, in due time, life in a +strange country, hard work, and long journeys had softened his grief. +Now only a vast background of melancholy remains; unless, indeed, the +hatred and wrath by which he is animated at this moment against the +woman who is dishonoring his brother may be a remnant of his former +love. + +But no! Frantz Risler thinks only of avenging the honor of the Rislers. +He comes not as a lover, but as a judge; and Sidonie may well look to +herself. + +The judge had gone straight to the factory on leaving the train, relying +upon the surprise, the unexpectedness, of his arrival to disclose to him +at a glance what was taking place. + +Unluckily he had found no one. The blinds of the little house at the +foot of the garden had been closed for two weeks. Pere Achille informed +him that the ladies were at their respective country seats where the +partners joined them every evening. + +Fromont Jeune had left the factory very early; Risler Aine had just +gone. Frantz decided to speak to old Sigismond. But it was Saturday, the +regular pay-day, and he must needs wait until the long line of workmen, +extending from Achille's lodge to the cashier's grated window, had +gradually dispersed. + +Although very impatient and very depressed, the excellent youth, who had +lived the life of a Paris workingman from his childhood, felt a thrill +of pleasure at finding himself once more in the midst of the animated +scenes peculiar to that time and place. Upon all those faces, honest or +vicious, was an expression of satisfaction that the week was at an end. +You felt that, so far as they were concerned, Sunday began at seven +o'clock Saturday evening, in front of the cashier's little lamp. + +One must have lived among workingmen to realize the full charm of that +one day's rest and its solemnity. Many of these poor creatures, bound +fast to unhealthful trades, await the coming of the blessed Sunday like +a puff of refreshing air, essential to their health and their life. What +an overflow of spirits, therefore, what a pressing need of noisy mirth! +It seems as if the oppression of the week's labor vanishes with the +steam from the machinery, as it escapes in a hissing cloud of vapor over +the gutters. + +One by one the workmen moved away from the grating, counting the +money that glistened in their black hands. There were disappointments, +mutterings, remonstrances, hours missed, money drawn in advance; and +above the tinkling of coins, Sigismond's voice could be heard, calm +and relentless, defending the interests of his employers with a zeal +amounting to ferocity. + +Frantz was familiar with all the dramas of pay-day, the false accents +and the true. He knew that one man's wages were expended for his family, +to pay the baker and the druggist, or for his children's schooling. + +Another wanted his money for the wine-shop or for something even worse. +And the melancholy, downcast shadows passing to and fro in front of the +factory gateway--he knew what they were waiting for--that they were +all on the watch for a father or a husband, to hurry him home with +complaining or coaxing words. + +Oh! the barefooted children, the tiny creatures wrapped in old shawls, +the shabby women, whose tear-stained faces were as white as the linen +caps that surmounted them. + +Oh! the lurking vice that prowls about on pay-day, the candles that +are lighted in the depths of dark alleys, the dirty windows of the +wine-shops where the thousand-and-one poisonous concoctions of alcohol +display their alluring colors. + +Frantz was familiar with all these forms of misery; but never had they +seemed to him so depressing, so harrowing as on that evening. + +When the last man was paid, Sigismond came out of his office. The two +friends recognized each other and embraced; and in the silence of the +factory, at rest for twenty-four hours and deathly still in all its +empty buildings, the cashier explained to Frantz the state of affairs. +He described Sidonie's conduct, her mad extravagance, the total wreck +of the family honor. The Rislers had bought a country house at Asnieres, +formerly the property of an actress, and had set up a sumptuous +establishment there. They had horses and carriages, and led a luxurious, +gay life. The thing that especially disturbed honest Sigismond was the +self restraint of Fromont jeune. For some time he had drawn almost no +money from the strong-box, and yet Sidonie was spending more than ever. + +"I haf no gonfidence!" said the unhappy cashier, shaking his head, "I +haf no gonfidence!" + +Lowering his voice he added: + +"But your brother, my little Frantz, your brother? Who can explain his +actions? He goes about through it all with his eyes in the air, +his hands in his pockets, his mind on his famous invention, which +unfortunately doesn't move fast. Look here! do you want me to give you +my opinion?--He's either a knave or a fool." + +They were walking up and down the little garden as they talked, stopping +for a moment, then resuming their walk. Frantz felt as if he were living +in a horrible dream. The rapid journey, the sudden change of scene and +climate, the ceaseless flow of Sigismond's words, the new idea that +he had to form of Risler and Sidonie--the same Sidonie he had loved so +dearly--all these things bewildered him and almost drove him mad. + +It was late. Night was falling. Sigismond proposed to him to go to +Montrouge for the night; he declined on the plea of fatigue, and when he +was left alone in the Marais, at that dismal and uncertain hour when +the daylight has faded and the gas is still unlighted, he walked +instinctively toward his old quarters on the Rue de Braque. + +At the hall door hung a placard: Bachelor's Chamber to let. + +It was the same room in which he had lived so long with his brother. He +recognized the map fastened to the wall by four pins, the window on +the landing, and the Delobelles' little sign: 'Birds and Insects for +Ornament.' + +Their door was ajar; he had only to push it a little in order to enter +the room. + +Certainly there was not in all Paris a surer refuge for him, a spot +better fitted to welcome and console his perturbed spirit, than that +hard-working familiar fireside. In his present agitation and perplexity +it was like the harbor with its smooth, deep water, the sunny, peaceful +quay, where the women work while awaiting their husbands and fathers, +though the wind howls and the sea rages. More than all else, although he +did not realize that it was so, it was a network of steadfast affection, +that miraculous love-kindness which makes another's love precious to us +even when we do not love that other. + +That dear little iceberg of a Desiree loved him so dearly. Her eyes +sparkled so even when talking of the most indifferent things with him. +As objects dipped in phosphorus shine with equal splendor, so the most +trivial words she said illuminated her pretty, radiant face. What a +blissful rest it was for him after Sigismond's brutal disclosures! + +They talked together with great animation while Mamma Delobelle was +setting the table. + +"You will dine with us, won't you, Monsieur Frantz? Father has gone to +take back the work; but he will surely come home to dinner." + +He will surely come home to dinner! + +The good woman said it with a certain pride. + +In fact, since the failure of his managerial scheme, the illustrious +Delobelle no longer took his meals abroad, even on the evenings when he +went to collect the weekly earnings. The unlucky manager had eaten so +many meals on credit at his restaurant that he dared not go there again. +By way of compensation, he never failed, on Saturday, to bring home with +him two or three unexpected, famished guests--"old comrades"--"unlucky +devils." So it happened that, on the evening in question, he appeared +upon the stage escorting a financier from the Metz theatre and a comique +from the theatre at Angers, both waiting for an engagement. + +The comique, closely shaven, wrinkled, shrivelled by the heat from the +footlights, looked like an old street-arab; the financier wore cloth +shoes, and no linen, so far as could be seen. + +"Frantz!--my Frantz!" cried the old strolling player in a melodramatic +voice, clutching the air convulsively with his hands. After a long and +energetic embrace he presented his guests to one another. + +"Monsieur Robricart, of the theatre at Metz. + +"Monsieur Chaudezon, of the theatre at Angers. + +"Frantz Risler, engineer." + +In Delobelle's mouth that word "engineer" assumed vast proportions! + +Desiree pouted prettily when she saw her father's friends. It would have +been so nice to be by themselves on a day like to-day. But the great man +snapped his fingers at the thought. He had enough to do to unload his +pockets. First of all, he produced a superb pie "for the ladies," he +said, forgetting that he adored pie. A lobster next made its appearance, +then an Arles sausage, marrons glaces and cherries, the first of the +season! + +While the financier enthusiastically pulled up the collar of his +invisible shirt, while the comique exclaimed "gnouf! gnouf!" with a +gesture forgotten by Parisians for ten years, Desiree thought with +dismay of the enormous hole that impromptu banquet would make in the +paltry earnings of the week, and Mamma Delobelle, full of business, +upset the whole buffet in order to find a sufficient number of plates. + +It was a very lively meal. The two actors ate voraciously, to the great +delight of Delobelle, who talked over with them old memories of their +days of strolling. Fancy a collection of odds and ends of scenery, +extinct lanterns, and mouldy, crumbling stage properties. + +In a sort of vulgar, meaningless, familiar slang, they recalled their +innumerable triumphs; for all three of them, according to their own +stories, had been applauded, laden with laurel-wreaths, and carried in +triumph by whole cities. + +While they talked they ate as actors usually eat, sitting with their +faces turned three-fourths toward the audience, with the unnatural haste +of stage guests at a pasteboard supper, alternating words and mouthfuls, +seeking to produce an effect by their manner of putting down a glass +or moving a chair, and expressing interest, amazement, joy, terror, +surprise, with the aid of a skilfully handled knife and fork. Madame +Delobelle listened to them with a smiling face. + +One can not be an actor's wife for thirty years without becoming +somewhat accustomed to these peculiar mannerisms. + +But one little corner of the table was separated from the rest of the +party as by a cloud which intercepted the absurd remarks, the +hoarse laughter, the boasting. Frantz and Desiree talked together in +undertones, hearing naught of what was said around them. Things that +happened in their childhood, anecdotes of the neighborhood, a whole +ill-defined past which derived its only value from the mutual memories +evoked, from the spark that glowed in the eyes of both-those were the +themes of their pleasant chat. + +Suddenly the cloud was torn aside, and Delobelle's terrible voice +interrupted the dialogue. + +"Have you not seen your brother?" he asked, in order to avoid the +appearance of neglecting him too much. "And you have not seen his wife, +either? Ah! you will find her a Madame. Such toilettes, my dear fellow, +and such chic! I assure you. They have a genuine chateau at Asnieres. +The Chebes are there also. Ah! my old friend, they have all left us +behind. They are rich, they look down on old friends. Never a word, +never a call. For my part, you understand, I snap my fingers at them, +but it really wounds these ladies." + +"Oh, papa!" said Desiree hastily, "you know very well that we are too +fond of Sidonie to be offended with her." + +The actor smote the table a violent blow with his fist. + +"Why, then, you do wrong. You ought to be offended with people who seek +always to wound and humiliate you." + +He still had upon his mind the refusal to furnish funds for his +theatrical project, and he made no secret of his wrath. + +"If you knew," he said to Frantz, "if you knew how money is being +squandered over yonder! It is a great pity. And nothing substantial, +nothing sensible. I who speak to you, asked your brother for a paltry +sum to assure my future and himself a handsome profit. He flatly +refused. Parbleu! Madame requires too much. She rides, goes to the races +in her carriage, and drives her husband at the same rate as her little +phaeton on the quay at Asnieres. Between you and me, I don't think that +our good friend Risler is very happy. That woman makes him believe black +is white." + +The ex-actor concluded his harangue with a wink at the comique and the +financier, and for a moment the three exchanged glances, conventional +grimaces, 'ha-has!' and 'hum-hums!' and all the usual pantomime +expressive of thoughts too deep for words. + +Frantz was struck dumb. Do what he would, the horrible certainty +assailed him on all sides. Sigismond had spoken in accordance with his +nature, Delobelle with his. The result was the same. + +Fortunately the dinner was drawing near its close. The three actors +left the table and betook themselves to the brewery on the Rue Blondel. +Frantz remained with the two women. + +As he sat beside her, gentle and affectionate in manner, Desiree was +suddenly conscious of a great outflow of gratitude to Sidonie. She said +to herself that, after all, it was to her generosity that she owed this +semblance of happiness, and that thought gave her courage to defend her +former friend. + +"You see, Monsieur Frantz, you mustn't believe all my father told you +about your sister-in-law. Dear papa! he always exaggerates a little. For +my own part, I am very sure that Sidonie is incapable of all the evil +she is accused of. I am sure that her heart has remained the same; and +that she is still fond of her friends, although she does neglect them a +little. Such is life, you know. Friends drift apart without meaning to. +Isn't that true, Monsieur Frantz?" + +Oh! how pretty she was in his eyes, while she talked in that strain. He +never had taken so much notice of the refined features, the aristocratic +pallor of her complexion; and when he left her that evening, deeply +touched by the warmth she had displayed in defending Sidonie, by all the +charming feminine excuses she put forward for her friend's silence +and neglect, Frantz Risler reflected, with a feeling of selfish and +ingenuous pleasure, that the child had loved him once, and that perhaps +she loved him still, and kept for him in the bottom of her heart that +warm, sheltered spot to which we turn as to the sanctuary when life has +wounded us. + +All night long in his old room, lulled by the imaginary movement of the +vessel, by the murmur of the waves and the howling of the wind which +follow long sea voyages, he dreamed of his youthful days, of little +Chebe and Desiree Delobelle, of their games, their labors, and of the +Ecole Centrale, whose great, gloomy buildings were sleeping near at +hand, in the dark streets of the Marais. + +And when daylight came, and the sun shining in at his bare window vexed +his eyes and brought him back to a realization of the duty that lay +before him and to the anxieties of the day, he dreamed that it was time +to go to the School, and that his brother, before going down to the +factory, opened the door and called to him: + +"Come, lazybones! Come!" + +That dear, loving voice, too natural, too real for a dream, made him +open his eyes without more ado. + +Risler was standing by his bed, watching his awakening with a charming +smile, not untinged by emotion; that it was Risler himself was evident +from the fact that, in his joy at seeing his brother Frantz once more, +he could find nothing better to say than, "I am very happy, I am very +happy!" + +Although it was Sunday, Risler, as was his custom, had come to the +factory to avail himself of the silence and solitude to work at his +press. Immediately on his arrival, Pere Achille had informed him that +his brother was in Paris and had gone to the old house on the Rue de +Braque, and he had hastened thither in joyful surprise, a little +vexed that he had not been forewarned, and especially that Frantz had +defrauded him of the first evening. His regret on that account came to +the surface every moment in his spasmodic attempts at conversation, in +which everything that he wanted to say was left unfinished, interrupted +by innumerable questions on all sorts of subjects and explosions of +affection and joy. Frantz excused himself on the plea of fatigue, and +the pleasure it had given him to be in their old room once more. + +"All right, all right," said Risler, "but I sha'n't let you alone +now--you are coming to Asnieres at once. I give myself leave of absence +today. All thought of work is out of the question now that you have +come, you understand. Ah! won't the little one be surprised and glad! We +talk about you so often! What joy! what joy!" + +The poor fellow fairly beamed with happiness; he, the silent man, +chattered like a magpie, gazed admiringly at his Frantz and remarked +upon his growth. The pupil of the Ecole Centrale had had a fine physique +when he went away, but his features had acquired greater firmness, +his shoulders were broader, and it was a far cry from the tall, +studious-looking boy who had left Paris two years before, for Ismailia, +to this handsome, bronzed corsair, with his serious yet winning face. + +While Risler was gazing at him, Frantz, on his side, was closely +scrutinizing his brother, and, finding him the same as always, as +ingenuous, as loving, and as absent-minded as times, he said to himself: + +"No! it is not possible--he has not ceased to be an honest man." + +Thereupon, as he reflected upon what people had dared to imagine, all +his wrath turned against that hypocritical, vicious woman, who deceived +her husband so impudently and with such absolute impunity that she +succeeded in causing him to be considered her confederate. Oh! what a +terrible reckoning he proposed to have with her; how pitilessly he would +talk to her! + +"I forbid you, Madame--understand what I say--I forbid you to dishonor +my brother!" + +He was thinking of that all the way, as he watched the still leafless +trees glide along the embankment of the Saint-Germain railway. Sitting +opposite him, Risler chattered, chattered without pause. He talked about +the factory, about their business. They had gained forty thousand francs +each the last year; but it would be a different matter when the Press +was at work. "A rotary press, my little Frantz, rotary and dodecagonal, +capable of printing a pattern in twelve to fifteen colors at a single +turn of the wheel--red on pink, dark green on light green, without the +least running together or absorption, without a line lapping over its +neighbor, without any danger of one shade destroying or overshadowing +another. Do you understand that, little brother? A machine that is an +artist like a man. It means a revolution in the wallpaper trade." + +"But," queried Frantz with some anxiety, "have you invented this Press +of yours yet, or are you still hunting for it?" + +"Invented!--perfected! To-morrow I will show you all my plans. I have +also invented an automatic crane for hanging the paper on the rods +in the drying-room. Next week I intend to take up my quarters in +the factory, up in the garret, and have my first machine made there +secretly, under my own eyes. In three months the patents must be taken +out and the Press must be at work. You'll see, my little Frantz, it will +make us all rich-you can imagine how glad I shall be to be able to make +up to these Fromonts for a little of what they have done for me. Ah! +upon my word, the Lord has been too good to me." + +Thereupon he began to enumerate all his blessings. Sidonie was the best +of women, a little love of a wife, who conferred much honor upon him. +They had a charming home. They went into society, very select society. +The little one sang like a nightingale, thanks to Madame Dobson's +expressive method. By the way, this Madame Dobson was another most +excellent creature. There was just one thing that disturbed poor Risler, +that was his incomprehensible misunderstanding with Sigismond. Perhaps +Frantz could help him to clear up that mystery. + +"Oh! yes, I will help you, brother," replied Frantz through his clenched +teeth; and an angry flush rose to his brow at the idea that any one +could have suspected the open-heartedness, the loyalty, that were +displayed before him in all their artless spontaneity. Luckily he, the +judge, had arrived; and he proposed to restore everything to its proper +place. + +Meanwhile, they were drawing near the house at Asnieres. Frantz had +noticed at a distance a fanciful little turreted affair, glistening with +a new blue slate roof. It seemed to him to have been built expressly for +Sidonie, a fitting cage for that capricious, gaudy-plumaged bird. + +It was a chalet with two stories, whose bright mirrors and pink-lined +curtains could be seen from the railway, shining resplendent at the far +end of a green lawn, where an enormous pewter ball was suspended. + +The river was near at hand, still wearing its Parisian aspect, filled +with chains, bathing establishments, great barges, and multitudes +of little, skiffs, with a layer of coal dust on their pretentious, +freshly-painted names, tied to the pier and rocking to the slightest +motion of the water. From her windows Sidonie could see the restaurants +on the beach, silent through the week, but filled to overflowing on +Sunday with a motley, noisy crowd, whose shouts of laughter, mingled +with the dull splash of oars, came from both banks to meet in midstream +in that current of vague murmurs, shouts, calls, laughter, and singing +that floats without ceasing up and down the Seine on holidays for a +distance of ten miles. + +During the week she saw shabbily-dressed idlers sauntering along the +shore, men in broad-brimmed straw hats and flannel shirts, women who sat +on the worn grass of the sloping bank, doing nothing, with the dreamy +eyes of a cow at pasture. All the peddlers, hand-organs, harpists; +travelling jugglers, stopped there as at a quarantine station. The quay +was crowded with them, and as they approached, the windows in the +little houses near by were always thrown open, disclosing white +dressing-jackets, half-buttoned, heads of dishevelled hair, and an +occasional pipe, all watching these paltry strolling shows, as if with +a sigh of regret for Paris, so near at hand. It was a hideous and +depressing sight. + +The grass, which had hardly begun to grow, was already turning yellow +beneath the feet of the crowd. The dust was black; and yet, every +Thursday, the cocotte aristocracy passed through on the way to the +Casino, with a great show of rickety carriages and borrowed postilions. +All these things gave pleasure to that fanatical Parisian, Sidonie; and +then, too, in her childhood, she had heard a great deal about Asnieres +from the illustrious Delobelle, who would have liked to have, like so +many of his profession, a little villa in those latitudes, a cozy nook +in the country to which to return by the midnight train, after the play +is done. + +All these dreams of little Chebe, Sidonie Risler had realized. + +The brothers went to the gate opening on the quay, in which the key was +usually left. They entered, making their way among trees and shrubs of +recent growth. Here and there the billiard-room, the gardener's lodge, a +little greenhouse, made their appearance, like the pieces of one of +the Swiss chalets we give to children to play with; all very light and +fragile, hardly more than resting on the ground, as if ready to fly away +at the slightest breath of bankruptcy or caprice: the villa of a cocotte +or a pawnbroker. + +Frantz looked about in some bewilderment. In the distance, opening on a +porch surrounded by vases of flowers, was the salon with its long blinds +raised. An American easy-chair, folding-chairs, a small table from which +the coffee had not been removed, could be seen near the door. Within +they heard a succession of loud chords on the piano and the murmur of +low voices. + +"I tell you Sidonie will be surprised," said honest Risler, walking +softly on the gravel; "she doesn't expect me until tonight. She and +Madame Dobson are practising together at this moment." + +Pushing the door open suddenly, he cried from the threshold in his loud, +good-natured voice: + +"Guess whom I've brought." + +Madame Dobson, who was sitting alone at the piano, jumped up from her +stool, and at the farther end of the grand salon Georges and Sidonie +rose hastily behind the exotic plants that reared their heads above a +table, of whose delicate, slender lines they seemed a prolongation. + +"Ah! how you frightened me!" said Sidonie, running to meet Risler. + +The flounces of her white peignoir, through which blue ribbons were +drawn, like little patches of blue sky among the clouds, rolled +in billows over the carpet, and, having already recovered from her +embarrassment, she stood very straight, with an affable expression and +her everlasting little smile, as she kissed her husband and offered her +forehead to Frantz, saying: + +"Good morning, brother." + +Risler left them confronting each other, and went up to Fromont Jeune, +whom he was greatly surprised to find there. + +"What, Chorche, you here? I supposed you were at Savigny." + +"Yes, to be sure, but--I came--I thought you stayed at Asnieres Sundays. +I wanted to speak to you on a matter of business." + +Thereupon, entangling himself in his words, he began to talk hurriedly +of an important order. Sidonie had disappeared after exchanging a few +unmeaning words with the impassive Frantz. Madame Dobson continued +her tremolos on the soft pedal, like those which accompany critical +situations at the theatre. + +In very truth, the situation at that moment was decidedly strained. +But Risler's good-humor banished all constraint. He apologized to his +partner for not being at home, and insisted upon showing Frantz the +house. They went from the salon to the stable, from the stable to the +carriage-house, the servants' quarters, and the conservatory. Everything +was new, brilliant, gleaming, too small, and inconvenient. + +"But," said Risler, with a certain pride, "it cost a heap of money!" + +He persisted in compelling admiration of Sidonie's purchase even to its +smallest details, exhibited the gas and water fixtures on every +floor, the improved system of bells, the garden seats, the English +billiard-table, the hydropathic arrangements, and accompanied his +exposition with outbursts of gratitude to Fromont Jeune, who, by taking +him into partnership, had literally placed a fortune in his hands. + +At each new effusion on Risler's part, Georges Fromont shrank visibly, +ashamed and embarrassed by the strange expression on Frantz's face. + +The breakfast was lacking in gayety. + +Madame Dobson talked almost without interruption, overjoyed to be +swimming in the shallows of a romantic love-affair. Knowing, or rather +believing that she knew her friend's story from beginning to end, she +understood the lowering wrath of Frantz, a former lover furious at +finding his place filled, and the anxiety of Georges, due to the +appearance of a rival; and she encouraged one with a glance, consoled +the other with a smile, admired Sidonie's tranquil demeanor, and +reserved all her contempt for that abominable Risler, the vulgar, +uncivilized tyrant. She made an effort to prevent any of those horrible +periods of silence, when the clashing knives and forks mark time in such +an absurd and embarrassing way. + +As soon as breakfast was at an end Fromont Jeune announced that he must +return to Savigny. Risler did not venture to detain him, thinking that +his dear Madame Chorche would pass her Sunday all alone; and so, without +an opportunity to say a word to his mistress, the lover went away in +the bright sunlight to take an afternoon train, still attended by the +husband, who insisted upon escorting him to the station. + +Madame Dobson sat for a moment with Frantz and Sidonie under a little +arbor which a climbing vine studded with pink buds; then, realizing +that she was in the way, she returned to the salon, and as before, while +Georges was there, began to play and sing softly and with expression. +In the silent garden, that muffled music, gliding between the branches, +seemed like the cooing of birds before the storm. + +At last they were alone. Under the lattice of the arbor, still bare and +leafless, the May sun shone too bright. Sidonie shaded her eyes with +her hand as she watched the people passing on the quay. Frantz likewise +looked out, but in another direction; and both of them, affecting to be +entirely independent of each other, turned at the same instant with the +same gesture and moved by the same thought. + +"I have something to say to you," he said, just as she opened her mouth. + +"And I to you," she replied gravely; "but come in here; we shall be more +comfortable." + +And they entered together a little summer-house at the foot of the +garden. + + + + +BOOK 3. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. EXPLANATION + +By slow degrees Sidonie sank to her former level, yes, even lower. From +the rich, well-considered bourgeoise to which her marriage had raised +her, she descended the ladder to the rank of a mere toy. By dint of +travelling in railway carriages with fantastically dressed courtesans, +with their hair worn over their eyes like a terrier's, or falling over +the back 'a la Genevieve de Brabant', she came at last to resemble them. +She transformed herself into a blonde for two months, to the unbounded +amazement of Rizer, who could not understand how his doll was so +changed. As for Georges, all these eccentricities amused him; it seemed +to him that he had ten women in one. He was the real husband, the master +of the house. + +To divert Sidonie's thoughts, he had provided a simulacrum of society +for her--his bachelor friends, a few fast tradesmen, almost no women, +women have too sharp eyes. Madame Dobson was the only friend of +Sidonie's sex. + +They organized grand dinner-parties, excursions on the water, fireworks. +From day to day Risler's position became more absurd, more distressing. +When he came home in the evening, tired out, shabbily dressed, he must +hurry up to his room to dress. + +"We have some people to dinner," his wife would say. "Make haste." + +And he would be the last to take his place at the table, after shaking +hands all around with his guests, friends of Fromont Jeune, whom he +hardly knew by name. Strange to say, the affairs of the factory +were often discussed at that table, to which Georges brought his +acquaintances from the club with the tranquil self-assurance of the +gentleman who pays. + +"Business breakfasts and dinners!" To Risler's mind that phrase +explained everything: his partner's constant presence, his choice of +guests, and the marvellous gowns worn by Sidonie, who beautified herself +in the interests of the firm. This coquetry on his mistress's part drove +Fromont Jeune to despair. Day after day he came unexpectedly to take +her by surprise, uneasy, suspicious, afraid to leave that perverse and +deceitful character to its own devices for long. + +"What in the deuce has become of your husband?" + +Pere Gardinois would ask his grand-daughter with a cunning leer. "Why +doesn't he come here oftener?" + +Claire apologized for Georges, but his continual neglect began to +disturb her. She wept now when she received the little notes, the +despatches which arrived daily at the dinner-hour: "Don't expect me +to-night, dear love. I shall not be able to come to Savigny until +to-morrow or the day after by the night-train." + +She ate her dinner sadly, opposite an empty chair, and although she did +not know that she was betrayed, she felt that her husband was becoming +accustomed to living away from her. He was so absent-minded when a +family gathering or some other unavoidable duty detained him at the +chateau, so silent concerning what was in his mind. Claire, having now +only the most distant relations with Sidonie, knew nothing of what was +taking place at Asnieres: but when Georges left her, apparently eager +to be gone, and with smiling face, she tormented her loneliness with +unavowed suspicions, and, like all those who anticipate a great sorrow, +she suddenly became conscious of a great void in her heart, a place made +ready for disasters to come. + +Her husband was hardly happier than she. That cruel Sidonie seemed to +take pleasure in tormenting him. She allowed everybody to pay court to +her. At that moment a certain Cazabon, alias Cazaboni, an Italian tenor +from Toulouse, introduced by Madame Dobson, came every day to sing +disturbing duets. Georges, jealous beyond words, hurried to Asnieres in +the afternoon, neglecting everything, and was already beginning to think +that Risler did not watch his wife closely enough. He would have liked +him to be blind only so far as he was concerned. + +Ah! if he had been her husband, what a tight rein he would have kept on +her! But he had no power over her and she was not at all backward about +telling him so. Sometimes, too, with the invincible logic that often +occurs to the greatest fools, he reflected that, as he was deceiving his +friend, perhaps he deserved to be deceived. In short, his was a wretched +life. He passed his time running about to jewellers and dry-goods +dealers, inventing gifts and surprises. Ah! he knew her well. He knew +that he could pacify her with trinkets, yet not retain his hold upon +her, and that, when the day came that she was bored-- + +But Sidonie was not bored as yet. She was living the life that she +longed to live; she had all the happiness she could hope to attain. +There was nothing passionate or romantic about her feeling for Georges. +He was like a second husband to her, younger and, above all, richer +than the other. To complete the vulgarization of their liaison, she had +summoned her parents to Asnieres, lodged them in a little house in +the country, and made of that vain and wilfully blind father and that +affectionate, still bewildered mother a halo of respectability of which +she felt the necessity as she sank lower and lower. + +Everything was shrewdly planned in that perverse little brain, which +reflected coolly upon vice; and it seemed to her as if she might +continue to live thus in peace, when Frantz Risler suddenly arrived. + +Simply from seeing him enter the room, she had realized that her repose +was threatened, that an interview of the gravest importance was to take +place between them. + +Her plan was formed on the instant. She must at once put it into +execution. + +The summer-house that they entered contained one large, circular room +with four windows, each looking out upon a different landscape; it was +furnished for the purposes of summer siestas, for the hot hours when one +seeks shelter from the sunlight and the noises of the garden. A broad, +very low divan ran all around the wall. A small lacquered table, also +very low, stood in the middle of the room, covered with odd numbers of +society journals. + +The hangings were new, and the Persian pattern-birds flying among +bluish reeds--produced the effect of a dream in summer, ethereal figures +floating before one's languid eyes. The lowered blinds, the matting on +the floor, the Virginia jasmine clinging to the trellis-work outside, +produced a refreshing coolness which was enhanced by the splashing in +the river near by, and the lapping of its wavelets on the shore. + +Sidonie sat down as soon as she entered the room, pushing aside her long +white skirt, which sank like a mass of snow at the foot of the divan; +and with sparkling eyes and a smile playing about her lips, bending her +little head slightly, its saucy coquettishness heightened by the bow of +ribbon on the side, she waited. + +Frantz, pale as death, remained standing, looking about the room. After +a moment he began: + +"I congratulate you, Madame; you understand how to make yourself +comfortable." + +And in the next breath, as if he were afraid that the conversation, +beginning at such a distance, would not arrive quickly enough at the +point to which he intended to lead it, he added brutally: + +"To whom do you owe this magnificence, to your lover or your husband?" + +Without moving from the divan, without even raising her eyes to his, she +answered: + +"To both." + +He was a little disconcerted by such self-possession. + +"Then you confess that that man is your lover?" + +"Confess it!--yes!" + +Frantz gazed at her a moment without speaking. She, too, had turned +pale, notwithstanding her calmness, and the eternal little smile no +longer quivered at the corners of her mouth. + +He continued: + +"Listen to me, Sidonie! My brother's name, the name he gave his wife, is +mine as well. Since Risler is so foolish, so blind as to allow the +name to be dishonored by you, it is my place to defend it against your +attacks. I beg you, therefore, to inform Monsieur Georges Fromont that +he must change mistresses as soon as possible, and go elsewhere to ruin +himself. If not--" + +"If not?" queried Sidonie, who had not ceased to play with her rings +while he was speaking. + +"If not, I shall tell my brother what is going on in his house, and you +will be surprised at the Risler whose acquaintance you will make +then--a man as violent and ungovernable as he usually is inoffensive. My +disclosure will kill him perhaps, but you can be sure that he will kill +you first." + +She shrugged her shoulders. + +"Very well! let him kill me. What do I care for that?" + +This was said with such a heartbroken, despondent air that Frantz, in +spite of himself, felt a little pity for that beautiful, fortunate young +creature, who talked of dying with such self-abandonment. + +"Do you love him so dearly?" he said, in an indefinably milder tone. +"Do you love this Fromont so dearly that you prefer to die rather than +renounce him?" + +She drew herself up hastily. + +"I? Love that fop, that doll, that silly girl in men's clothes? +Nonsense!--I took him as I would have taken any other man." + +"Why?" + +"Because I couldn't help it, because I was mad, because I had and still +have in my heart a criminal love, which I am determined to tear out, no +matter at what cost." + +She had risen and was speaking with her eyes in his, her lips near his, +trembling from head to foot. + +A criminal love?--Whom did she love, in God's name? + +Frantz was afraid to question her. + +Although suspecting nothing as yet, he had a feeling that that glance, +that breath, leaning toward him, were about to make some horrible +disclosure. + +But his office of judge made it necessary for him to know all. + +"Who is it?" he asked. + +She replied in a stifled voice: + +"You know very well that it is you." + +She was his brother's wife. + +For two years he had not thought of her except as a sister. In his eyes +his brother's wife in no way resembled his former fiancee, and it would +have been a crime to recognize in a single feature of her face the woman +to whom he had formerly so often said, "I love you." + +And now it was she who said that she loved him. + +The unhappy judge was thunderstruck, dazed, could find no words in which +to reply. + +She, standing before him, waited. + +It was one of those spring days, full of heat and light, to which the +moisture of recent rains imparts a strange softness and melancholy. +The air was warm, perfumed by fresh flowers which, on that first day of +heat, gave forth their fragrance eagerly, like violets hidden in a muff. +Through its long, open windows the room in which they were inhaled all +those intoxicating odors. Outside, they could hear the Sunday organs, +distant shouts on the river, and nearer at hand, in the garden, Madame +Dobson's amorous, languishing voice, sighing: + + "On dit que tu te maries; + Tu sais que j'en puis mouri-i-i-r!" + +"Yes, Frantz, I have always loved you," said Sidonie. "That love which +I renounced long ago because I was a young girl--and young girls do +not know what they are doing--that love nothing has ever succeeded in +destroying or lessening. When I learned that Desiree also loved you, +the unfortunate, penniless child, in a great outburst of generosity I +determined to assure her happiness for life by sacrificing my own, and +I at once turned you away, so that you should go to her. Ah! as soon as +you had gone, I realized that the sacrifice was beyond my strength. Poor +little Desiree! How I cursed her in the bottom of my heart! Will you +believe it? Since that time I have avoided seeing her, meeting her. The +sight of her caused me too much pain." + +"But if you loved me," asked Frantz, in a low voice, "if you loved me, +why did you marry my brother?" + +She did not waver. + +"To marry Risler was to bring myself nearer to you. I said to myself: 'I +could not be his wife. Very well, I will be his sister. At all events, +in that way it will still be allowable for me to love him, and we shall +not pass our whole lives as strangers.' Alas! those are the innocent +dreams a girl has at twenty, dreams of which she very soon learns the +impossibility. I could not love you as a sister, Frantz; I could not +forget you, either; my marriage prevented that. With another husband I +might perhaps have succeeded, but with Risler it was terrible. He was +forever talking about you and your success and your future--Frantz said +this; Frantz did that--He loves you so well, poor fellow! And then the +most cruel thing to me is that your brother looks like you. There is +a sort of family resemblance in your features, in your gait, in your +voices especially, for I have often closed my eyes under his caresses, +saying to myself, 'It is he, it is Frantz.' When I saw that that wicked +thought was becoming a source of torment to me, something that I could +not escape, I tried to find distraction, I consented to listen to this +Georges, who had been pestering me for a long time, to transform my life +to one of noise and excitement. But I swear to you, Frantz, that in that +whirlpool of pleasure into which I then plunged, I never have ceased +to think of you, and if any one had a right to come here and call me +to account for my conduct, you certainly are not the one, for you, +unintentionally, have made me what I am." + +She paused. Frantz dared not raise his eyes to her face. For a moment +past she had seemed to him too lovely, too alluring. She was his +brother's wife! + +Nor did he dare speak. The unfortunate youth felt that the old passion +was despotically taking possession of his heart once more, and that at +that moment glances, words, everything that burst forth from it would be +love. + +And she was his brother's wife! + +"Ah! wretched, wretched creatures that we are!" exclaimed the poor +judge, dropping upon the divan beside her. + +Those few words were in themselves an act of cowardice, a beginning of +surrender, as if destiny, by showing itself so pitiless, had deprived +him of the strength to defend himself. Sidonie had placed her hand on +his. "Frantz--Frantz!" she said; and they remained there side by side, +silent and burning with emotion, soothed by Madame Dobson's romance, +which reached their ears by snatches through the shrubbery: + + "Ton amour, c'est ma folie. + Helas! je n'en puis guei-i-i-r." + +Suddenly Risler's tall figure appeared in the doorway. + +"This way, Chebe, this way. They are in the summerhouse." + +As he spoke the husband entered, escorting his father-in-law and +mother-in-law, whom he had gone to fetch. + +There was a moment of effusive greetings and innumerable embraces. You +should have seen the patronizing air with which M. Chebe scrutinized the +young man, who was head and shoulders taller than he. + +"Well, my boy, does the Suez Canal progress as you would wish?" + +Madame Chebe, in whose thoughts Frantz had never ceased to be her future +son-in-law, threw her arms around him, while Risler, tactless as usual +in his gayety and his enthusiasm, waved his arms, talked of killing +several fatted calves to celebrate the return of the prodigal son, +and roared to the singing-mistress in a voice that echoed through the +neighboring gardens: + +"Madame Dobson, Madame Dobson--if you'll allow me, it's a pity for +you to be singing there. To the devil with sadness for to-day! Play us +something lively, a good waltz, so that I can take a turn with Madame +Chebe." + +"Risler, Risler, are you crazy, my son-in-law?" + +"Come, come, mamma! We must dance." + +And up and down the paths, to the strains of an automatic six-step +waltz-a genuine valse de Vaucanson--he dragged his breathless +mamma-in-law, who stopped at every step to restore to their usual +orderliness the dangling ribbons of her hat and the lace trimming of her +shawl, her lovely shawl bought for Sidonie's wedding. + +Poor Risler was intoxicated with joy. + +To Frantz that was an endless, indelible day of agony. Driving, rowing +on the river, lunch on the grass on the Ile des Ravageurs--he was +spared none of the charms of Asnieres; and all the time, in the dazzling +sunlight of the roads, in the glare reflected by the water, he must +laugh and chatter, describe his journey, talk of the Isthmus of Suez and +the great work undertaken there, listen to the whispered complaints of +M. Chebe, who was still incensed with his children, and to his +brother's description of the Press. "Rotary, my dear Frantz, rotary +and dodecagonal!" Sidonie left the gentlemen to their conversation and +seemed absorbed in deep thought. From time to time she said a word or +two to Madame Dobson, or smiled sadly at her, and Frantz, not daring to +look at her, followed the motions of her blue-lined parasol and of the +white flounces of her skirt. + +How she had changed in two years! How lovely she had grown! + +Then horrible thoughts came to his mind. There were races at Longchamps +that day. Carriages passed theirs, rubbed against it, driven by women +with painted faces, closely veiled. Sitting motionless on the box, they +held their long whips straight in the air, with doll-like gestures, and +nothing about them seemed alive except their blackened eyes, fixed on +the horses' heads. As they passed, people turned to look. Every eye +followed them, as if drawn by the wind caused by their rapid motion. + +Sidonie resembled those creatures. She might herself have driven +Georges' carriage; for Frantz was in Georges' carriage. He had drunk +Georges' wine. All the luxurious enjoyment of that family party came +from Georges. + +It was shameful, revolting! He would have liked to shout the whole story +to his brother. Indeed, it was his duty, as he had come there for that +express purpose. But he no longer felt the courage to do it. Ah! the +unhappy judge! + +That evening after dinner, in the salon open to the fresh breeze from +the river, Risler begged his wife to sing. He wished her to exhibit all +her newly acquired accomplishments to Frantz. + +Sidonie, leaning on the piano, objected with a melancholy air, while +Madame Dobson ran her fingers over the keys, shaking her long curls. + +"But I don't know anything. What do you wish me to sing?" + +She ended, however, by being persuaded. Pale, disenchanted, with her +mind upon other things, in the flickering light of the candles which +seemed to be burning incense, the air was so heavy with the odor of +the hyacinths and lilacs in the garden, she began a Creole ballad very +popular in Louisiana, which Madame Dobson herself had arranged for the +voice and piano: + + "Pauv' pitit Mam'zelle Zizi, + C'est l'amou, l'amou qui tourne la tete a li." + + ["Poor little Mam'zelle Zizi, + 'Tis love, 'tis love that turns her head."] + +And as she told the story of the ill-fated little Zizi, who was driven +mad by passion, Sidonie had the appearance of a love-sick woman. With +what heartrending expression, with the cry of a wounded dove, did she +repeat that refrain, so melancholy and so sweet, in the childlike patois +of the colonies: + + "C'est l'amou, l'amou qui tourne la tete...." + +It was enough to drive the unlucky judge mad as well. + +But no! The siren had been unfortunate in her choice of a ballad. For, +at the mere name of Mam'zelle Zizi, Frantz was suddenly transported to +a gloomy chamber in the Marais, a long way from Sidonie's salon, and his +compassionate heart evoked the image of little Desiree Delobelle, who +had loved him so long. Until she was fifteen, she never had been called +anything but Ziree or Zizi, and she was the pauv' pitit of the Creole +ballad to the life, the ever-neglected, ever-faithful lover. In vain +now did the other sing. Frantz no longer heard her or saw her. He was +in that poor room, beside the great armchair, on the little low chair on +which he had sat so often awaiting the father's return. Yes, there, and +there only, was his salvation. He must take refuge in that child's +love, throw himself at her feet, say to her, "Take me, save me!" And who +knows? She loved him so dearly. Perhaps she would save him, would cure +him of his guilty passion. + +"Where are you going?" asked Risler, seeing that his brother rose +hurriedly as soon as the last flourish was at an end. + +"I am going back. It is late." + +"What? You are not going to sleep here? Why your room is ready for you." + +"It is all ready," added Sidonie, with a meaning glance. + +He refused resolutely. His presence in Paris was necessary for the +fulfilment of certain very important commissions intrusted to him by the +Company. They continued their efforts to detain him when he was in the +vestibule, when he was crossing the garden in the moonlight and running +to the station, amid all the divers noises of Asnieres. + +When he had gone, Risler went up to his room, leaving Sidonie and Madame +Dobson at the windows of the salon. The music from the neighboring +Casino reached their ears, with the "Yo-ho!" of the boatmen and the +footsteps of the dancers like a rhythmical, muffled drumming on the +tambourine. + +"There's a kill-joy for you!" observed Madame Dobson. + +"Oh, I have checkmated him," replied Sidonie; "only I must be careful. +I shall be closely watched now. He is so jealous. I am going to write +to Cazaboni not to come again for some time, and you must tell Georges +to-morrow morning to go to Savigny for a fortnight." + + + + +CHAPTER XV. POOR LITTLE MAM'ZELLE ZIZI. + + +Oh, how happy Desiree was! + +Frantz came every day and sat at her feet on the little low chair, as in +the good old days, and he no longer came to talk of Sidonie. + +As soon as she began to work in the morning, she would see the door open +softly. "Good morning, Mam'zelle Zizi." He always called her now by the +name she had borne as a child; and if you could know how prettily he +said it: "Good morning, Mam'zelle Zizi." + +In the evening they waited for "the father" together, and while she +worked he made her shudder with the story of his adventures. + +"What is the matter with you? You're not the same as you used to be," +Mamma Delobelle would say, surprised to see her in such high spirits +and above all so active. For instead of remaining always buried in +her easy-chair, with the self-renunciation of a young grandmother, the +little creature was continually jumping up and running to the window +as lightly as if she were putting out wings; and she practised standing +erect, asking her mother in a whisper: + +"Do you notice IT when I am not walking?" + +From her graceful little head, upon which she had previously +concentrated all her energies in the arrangement of her hair, her +coquetry extended over her whole person, as did her fine, waving tresses +when she unloosed them. Yes, she was very, very coquettish now; and +everybody noticed it. Even the "birds and insects for ornament" assumed +a knowing little air. + +Ah, yes! Desiree Delobelle was happy. For some days M. Frantz had been +talking of their all going into the country together; and as the father, +kind and generous as always, graciously consented to allow the ladies to +take a day's rest, all four set out one Sunday morning. + +Oh! the lovely drive, the lovely country, the lovely river, the lovely +trees! + +Do not ask her where they went; Desiree never knew. But she will tell +you that the sun was brighter there than anywhere else, the birds more +joyous, the woods denser; and she will not lie. + +The bouquet that the little cripple brought back from that beautiful +excursion made her room fragrant for a week. Among the hyacinths, the +violets, the white-thorn, was a multitude of nameless little flowers, +those flowers of the lowly which grow from nomadic seed scattered +everywhere along the roads. + +Gazing at the slender, pale blue and bright pink blossoms, with all the +delicate shades that flowers invented before colorists, many and many +a time during that week Desiree took her excursion again. The violets +reminded her of the little moss-covered mound on which she had picked +them, seeking them under the leaves, her fingers touching Frantz's. They +had found these great water-lilies on the edge of a ditch, still damp +from the winter rains, and, in order to reach them, she had leaned +very heavily on Frantz's arm. All these memories occurred to her as +she worked. Meanwhile the sun, shining in at the open window, made the +feathers of the hummingbirds glisten. The springtime, youth, the songs +of the birds, the fragrance of the flowers, transfigured that dismal +fifth-floor workroom, and Desiree said in all seriousness to Mamma +Delobelle, putting her nose to her friend's bouquet: + +"Have you noticed how sweet the flowers smell this year, mamma?" + +And Frantz, too, began to fall under the charm. Little by little +Mam'zelle Zizi took possession of his heart and banished from it even +the memory of Sidonie. To be sure, the poor judge did all that he could +to accomplish that result. At every hour in the day he was by Desiree's +side, and clung to her like a child. Not once did he venture to return +to Asnieres. He feared the other too much. + +"Pray come and see us once in a while; Sidonie keeps asking for you," +Risler said to him from time to time, when his brother came to the +factory to see him. But Frantz held firm, alleging all sorts of business +engagements as pretexts for postponing his visit to the next day. It was +easy to satisfy Risler, who was more engrossed than ever with his press, +which they had just begun to build. + +Whenever Frantz came down from his brother's closet, old Sigismond was +sure to be watching for him, and would walk a few steps with him in his +long, lute-string sleeves, quill and knife in hand. He kept the young +man informed concerning matters at the factory. For some time past, +things seemed to have changed for the better. Monsieur Georges came to +his office regularly, and returned to Savigny every night. No more bills +were presented at the counting-room. It seemed, too, that Madame over +yonder was keeping more within bounds. + +The cashier was triumphant. + +"You see, my boy, whether I did well to write to you. Your arrival was +all that was needed to straighten everything out. And yet," the good man +would add by force of habit, "and yet I haf no gonfidence." + +"Never fear, Monsieur Sigismond, I am here," the judge would reply. + +"You're not going away yet, are you, my dear Frantz?" + +"No, no--not yet. I have an important matter to finish up first." + +"Ah! so much the better." + +The important matter to which Frantz referred was his marriage to +Desiree Delobelle. He had not yet mentioned it to any one, not even to +her; but Mam'zelle Zizi must have suspected something, for she became +prettier and more lighthearted from day to day, as if she foresaw that +the day would soon come when she would need all her gayety and all her +beauty. + +They were alone in the workroom one Sunday afternoon. Mamma Delobelle +had gone out, proud enough to show herself for once in public with +her great man, and leaving friend Frantz with her daughter to keep her +company. Carefully dressed, his whole person denoting a holiday air, +Frantz had a singular expression on his face that day, an expression at +once timid and resolute, emotional and solemn, and simply from the +way in which the little low chair took its place beside the great +easy-chair, the easy-chair understood that a very serious communication +was about to be made to it in confidence, and it had some little +suspicion as to what it might be. + +The conversation began with divers unimportant remarks, interspersed +with long and frequent pauses, just as, on a journey, we stop at every +baiting-place to take breath, to enable us to reach our destination. + +"It is a fine day to-day." + +"Oh! yes, beautiful." + +"Our flowers still smell sweet." + +"Oh! very sweet." + +And even as they uttered those trivial sentences, their voices trembled +at the thought of what was about to be said. + +At last the little low chair moved a little nearer the great easy-chair; +their eyes met, their fingers were intertwined, and the two, in low +tones, slowly called each other by their names. + +"Desiree!" + +"Frantz!" + +At that moment there was a knock at the door. + +It was the soft little tap of a daintily gloved hand which fears to soil +itself by the slightest touch. + +"Come in!" said Desiree, with a slight gesture of impatience; and +Sidonie appeared, lovely, coquettish, and affable. She had come to see +her little Zizi, to embrace her as she was passing by. She had been +meaning to come for so long. + +Frantz's presence seemed to surprise her greatly, and, being engrossed +by her delight in talking with her former friend, she hardly looked at +him. After the effusive greetings and caresses, after a pleasant chat +over old times, she expressed a wish to see the window on the landing +and the room formerly occupied by the Rislers. It pleased her thus to +live all her youth over again. + +"Do you remember, Frantz, when the Princess Hummingbird entered your +room, holding her little head very straight under a diadem of birds' +feathers?" + +Frantz did not reply. He was too deeply moved to reply. Something warned +him that it was on his account, solely on his account, that the woman +had come, that she was determined to see him again, to prevent him from +giving himself to another, and the poor wretch realized with dismay that +she would not have to exert herself overmuch to accomplish her object. +When he saw her enter the room, his whole heart had been caught in her +net once more. + +Desiree suspected nothing, not she! Sidonie's manner was so frank and +friendly. And then, they were brother and sister now. Love was no longer +possible between them. + +But the little cripple had a vague presentiment of woe when Sidonie, +standing in the doorway and ready to go, turned carelessly to her +brother-in-law and said: + +"By the way, Frantz, Risler told me to be sure to bring you back to dine +with us to-night. The carriage is below. We will pick him up as we pass +the factory." + +Then she added, with the prettiest smile imaginable: + +"You will let us have him, won't you, Ziree? Don't be afraid; we will +send him back." + +And he had the courage to go, the ungrateful wretch! + +He went without hesitation, without once turning back, whirled away by +his passion as by a raging sea, and neither on that day nor the next +nor ever after could Mam'zelle Zizi's great easy-chair learn what the +interesting communication was that the little low chair had to make to +it. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. THE WAITING-ROOM + + "Well, yes, I love you, I love you, more than ever and for ever! + What is the use of struggling and fighting against fate? Our sin + is stronger than we. But, after all, is it a crime for us to love? + We were destined for each other. Have we not the right to come + together, although life has parted us? So, come! It is all over; + we will go away. Meet me to-morrow evening, Lyon station, at ten + o'clock. The tickets are secured and I shall be there awaiting you. + + "FRANTZ." + +For a month past Sidonie had been hoping for that letter, a month during +which she had brought all her coaxing and cunning into play to lure +her brother-in-law on to that written revelation of passion. She had +difficulty in accomplishing it. It was no easy matter to pervert an +honest young heart like Frantz's to the point of committing a crime; +and in that strange contest, in which the one who really loved fought +against his own cause, she had often felt that she was at the end of her +strength and was almost discouraged. When she was most confident that he +was conquered, his sense of right would suddenly rebel, and he would be +all ready to flee, to escape her once more. + +What a triumph it was for her, therefore, when that letter was handed +to her one morning. Madame Dobson happened to be there. She had just +arrived, laden with complaints from Georges, who was horribly bored +away from his mistress, and was beginning to be alarmed concerning this +brother-in-law, who was more attentive, more jealous, more exacting than +a husband. + +"Oh! the poor, dear fellow, the poor, dear, fellow," said the +sentimental American, "if you could see how unhappy he is!" + +And, shaking her curls, she unrolled her music-roll and took from it the +poor, dear fellow's letters, which she had carefully hidden between the +leaves of her songs, delighted to be involved in this love-story, to +give vent to her emotion in an atmosphere of intrigue and mystery which +melted her cold eyes and suffused her dry, pale complexion. + +Strange to say, while lending her aid most willingly to this constant +going and coming of love-letters, the youthful and attractive Dobson had +never written or received a single one on her own account. + +Always on the road between Asnieres and Paris with an amorous message +under her wing, that odd carrier-pigeon remained true to her own dovecot +and cooed for none but unselfish motives. + +When Sidonie showed her Frantz's note, Madame Dobson asked: + +"What shall you write in reply?" + +"I have already written. I consented." + +"What! You will go away with that madman?" + +Sidonie laughed scornfully. + +"Ha! ha! well, hardly! I consented so that he may go and wait for me at +the station. That is all. The least I can do is to give him a quarter +of an hour of agony. He has made me miserable enough for the last month. +Just consider that I have changed my whole life for my gentleman! I have +had to close my doors and give up seeing my friends and everybody I know +who is young and agreeable, beginning with Georges and ending with you. +For you know, my dear, you weren't agreeable to him, and he would have +liked to dismiss you with the rest." + +The one thing that Sidonie did not mention--and it was the deepest cause +of her anger against Frantz--was that he had frightened her terribly by +threatening to tell her husband her guilty secret. From that moment she +had felt decidedly ill at ease, and her life, her dear life, which +she so petted and coddled, had seemed to her to be exposed to serious +danger. Yes, the thought that her husband might some day be apprized of +her conduct positively terrified her. + +That blessed letter put an end to all her fears. It was impossible now +for Frantz to expose her, even in the frenzy of his disappointment, +knowing that she had such a weapon in her hands; and if he did speak, +she would show the letter, and all his accusations would become in +Risler's eyes calumny pure and simple. Ah, master judge, we have you +now! + +"I am born again--I am born again!" she cried to Madame Dobson. She ran +out into the garden, gathered great bouquets for her salon, threw +the windows wide open to the sunlight, gave orders to the cook, the +coachman, the gardener. The house must be made to look beautiful, for +Georges was coming back, and for a beginning she organized a grand +dinner-party for the end of the week. + +The next evening Sidonie, Risler, and Madame Dobson were together in +the salon. While honest Risler turned the leaves of an old handbook of +mechanics, Sidonie sang to Madame Dobson's accompaniment. Suddenly she +stopped in the middle of her aria and burst into a peal of laughter. The +clock had just struck ten. + +Risler looked up quickly. + +"What are you laughing at?" + +"Nothing-an idea that came into my head," replied Sidonie, winking of +Madame Dobson and pointing at the clock. + +It was the hour appointed for the meeting, and she was thinking of her +lover's torture as he waited for her to come. + +Since the return of the messenger bringing from Sidonie the "yes" he +had so feverishly awaited, a great calm had come over his troubled mind, +like the sudden removal of a heavy burden. No more uncertainty, no more +clashing between passion and duty. + +Not once did it occur to him that on the other side of the landing some +one was weeping and sighing because of him. Not once did he think of his +brother's despair, of the ghastly drama they were to leave behind them. +He saw a sweet little pale face resting beside his in the railway train, +a blooming lip within reach of his lip, and two fathomless eyes looking +at him by the soft light of the lamp, to the soothing accompaniment of +the wheels and the steam. + +Two hours before the opening of the gate for the designated train, +Frantz was already at the Lyon station, that gloomy station which, in +the distant quarter of Paris in which it is situated, seems like a first +halting-place in the provinces. He sat down in the darkest corner and +remained there without stirring, as if dazed. + +Instinctively, although the appointed hour was still distant, he looked +among the people who were hurrying along, calling to one another, to see +if he could not discern that graceful figure suddenly emerging from +the crowd and thrusting it aside at every step with the radiance of her +beauty. + +After many departures and arrivals and shrill whistles, the station +suddenly became empty, as deserted as a church on weekdays. The time for +the ten o'clock train was drawing near. There was no other train before +that. Frantz rose. In a quarter of an hour, half an hour at the least, +she would be there. + +Frantz went hither and thither, watching the carriages that arrived. +Each new arrival made him start. He fancied that he saw her enter, +closely veiled, hesitating, a little embarrassed. How quickly he would +be by her side, to comfort her, to protect her! + +The hour for the departure of the train was approaching. He looked at +the clock. There was but a quarter of an hour more. It alarmed him; but +the bell at the wicket, which had now been opened, summoned him. He ran +thither and took his place in the long line. + +"Two first-class for Marseilles," he said. It seemed to him as if that +were equivalent to taking possession. + +He made his way back to his post of observation through the +luggage-laden wagons and the late-comers who jostled him as they ran. +The drivers shouted, "Take care!" He stood there among the wheels of the +cabs, under the horses' feet, with deaf ears and staring eyes. Only five +minutes more. It was almost impossible for her to arrive in time. + +At last she appeared. + +Yes, there she is, it is certainly she--a woman in black, slender and +graceful, accompanied by another shorter woman--Madame Dobson, no doubt. + +But a second glance undeceived him. It was a young woman who resembled +her, a woman of fashion like her, with a happy face. A man, also young, +joined them. It was evidently a wedding-party; the mother accompanied +them, to see them safely on board the train. + +Now there is the confusion of departure, the last stroke of the bell, +the steam escaping with a hissing sound, mingled with the hurried +footsteps of belated passengers, the slamming of doors and the rumbling +of the heavy omnibuses. Sidonie comes not. And Frantz still waits. + +At that moment a hand is placed on his shoulder. + +Great God! + +He turns. The coarse face of M. Gardinois, surrounded by a +travelling-cap with ear-pieces, is before him. + +"I am not mistaken, it is Monsieur Risler. Are you going to Marseilles +by the express? I am not going far." + +He explains to Frantz that he has missed the Orleans train, and is going +to try to connect with Savigny by the Lyon line; then he talks about +Risler Aine and the factory. + +"It seems that business hasn't been prospering for some time. They were +caught in the Bonnardel failure. Ah! our young men need to be careful. +At the rate they're sailing their ship, the same thing is likely to +happen to them that happened to Bonnardel. But excuse me, I believe +they're about to close the gate. Au revoir." + +Frantz has hardly heard what he has been saying. His brother's ruin, the +destruction of the whole world, nothing is of any further consequence to +him. He is waiting, waiting. + +But now the gate is abruptly closed like a last barrier between him and +his persistent hope. Once more the station is empty. The uproar has been +transferred to the line of the railway, and suddenly a shrill whistle +falls upon the lover's ear like an ironical farewell, then dies away in +the darkness. + +The ten o'clock train has gone! + +He tries to be calm and to reason. Evidently she missed the train from +Asmeres; but, knowing that he is waiting for her, she will come, no +matter how late it may be. He will wait longer. The waiting-room was +made for that. + +The unhappy man sits down on a bench. The prospect of a long vigil +brings to his mind a well-known room in which at that hour the lamp +burns low on a table laden with humming-birds and insects, but that +vision passes swiftly through his mind in the chaos of confused thoughts +to which the delirium of suspense gives birth. + +And while he thus lost himself in thought, the hours passed. The roofs +of the buildings of Mazas, buried in darkness, were already beginning to +stand out distinctly against the brightening sky. What was he to do? He +must go to Asnieres at once and try to find out what had happened. He +wished he were there already. + +Having made up his mind, he descended the steps of the station at a +rapid pace, passing soldiers with their knapsacks on their backs, and +poor people who rise early coming to take the morning train, the train +of poverty and want. + +In front of one of the stations he saw a crowd collected, rag-pickers +and countrywomen. Doubtless some drama of the night about to reach its +denouement before the Commissioner of Police. Ah! if Frantz had known +what that drama was! but he could have no suspicion, and he glanced at +the crowd indifferently from a distance. + +When he reached Asnieres, after a walk of two or three hours, it was +like an awakening. The sun, rising in all its glory, set field and river +on fire. The bridge, the houses, the quay, all stood forth with that +matutinal sharpness of outline which gives the impression of a new day +emerging, luminous and smiling, from the dense mists of the night. From +a distance he descried his brother's house, already awake, the open +blinds and the flowers on the window-sills. He wandered about some time +before he could summon courage to enter. + +Suddenly some one hailed him from the shore: + +"Ah! Monsieur Frantz. How early you are today!" + +It was Sidonie's coachman taking his horses to bathe in the river. + +"Has anything happened at the house?" inquired Frantz tremblingly. + +"No, Monsieur Frantz." + +"Is my brother at home?" + +"No, Monsieur slept at the factory." + +"No one sick?" + +"No, Monsieur Frantz, no one, so far as I know." + +Thereupon Frantz made up his mind to ring at the small gate. The +gardener was raking the paths. The house was astir; and, early as it +was, he heard Sidonie's voice as clear and vibrating as the song of a +bird among the rose-bushes of the facade. + +She was talking with animation. Frantz, deeply moved, drew near to +listen. + +"No, no cream. The 'cafe parfait' will be enough. Be sure that it's well +frozen and ready at seven o'clock. Oh! about an entree--let us see--" + +She was holding council with her cook concerning the famous dinner-party +for the next day. Her brother-in-law's sudden appearance did not +disconcert her. + +"Ah! good-morning, Frantz," she said very coolly. "I am at your service +directly. We're to have some people to dinner to-morrow, customers of +the firm, a grand business dinner. You'll excuse me, won't you?" + +Fresh and smiling, in the white ruffles of her trailing morning-gown +and her little lace cap, she continued to discuss her menu, inhaling +the cool air that rose from the fields and the river. There was not the +slightest trace of chagrin or anxiety upon that tranquil face, which +was a striking contrast to the lover's features, distorted by a night of +agony and fatigue. + +For a long quarter of an hour Frantz, sitting in a corner of the salon, +saw all the conventional dishes of a bourgeois dinner pass before him +in their regular order, from the little hot pates, the sole Normande +and the innumerable ingredients of which that dish is composed, to the +Montreuil peaches and Fontainebleau grapes. + +At last, when they were alone and he was able to speak, he asked in a +hollow voice: + +"Didn't you receive my letter?" + +"Why, yes, of course." + +She had risen to go to the mirror and adjust a little curl or two +entangled with her floating ribbons, and continued, looking at herself +all the while: + +"Yes, I received your letter. Indeed, I was charmed to receive it. +Now, should you ever feel inclined to tell your brother any of the +vile stories about me that you have threatened me with, I could easily +satisfy him that the only source of your lying tale-bearing was anger +with me for repulsing a criminal passion as it deserved. Consider +yourself warned, my dear boy--and au revoir." + +As pleased as an actress who has just delivered a telling speech with +fine effect, she passed him and left the room smiling, with a little +curl at the corners of her mouth, triumphant and without anger. And he +did not kill her! + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. AN ITEM OF NEWS + +In the evening preceding that ill-omened day, a few moments after Frantz +had stealthily left his room on Rue de Braque, the illustrious Delobelle +returned home, with downcast face and that air of lassitude and +disillusionment with which he always met untoward events. + +"Oh! mon Dieu, my poor man, what has happened?" instantly inquired +Madame Delobelle, whom twenty years of exaggerated dramatic pantomime +had not yet surfeited. + +Before replying, the ex-actor, who never failed to precede his most +trivial words with some facial play, learned long before for stage +purposes, dropped his lower lip, in token of disgust and loathing, as if +he had just swallowed something very bitter. + +"The matter is that those Rislers are certainly ingrates or egotists, +and, beyond all question, exceedingly ill-bred. Do you know what I just +learned downstairs from the concierge, who glanced at me out of the +corner of his eye, making sport of me? Well, Frantz Risler has gone! He +left the house a short time ago, and has left Paris perhaps ere this, +without so much as coming to shake my hand, to thank me for the welcome +he has received here. What do you think of that? For he didn't say +good-by to you two either, did he? And yet, only a month ago, he was +always in our rooms, without any remonstrance from us." + +Mamma Delobelle uttered an exclamation of genuine surprise and grief. +Desiree, on the contrary, did not say a word or make a motion. She was +always the same little iceberg. + +Oh! wretched mother, turn your eyes upon your daughter. See that +transparent pallor, those tearless eyes which gleam unwaveringly, as if +their thoughts and their gaze were concentrated on some object visible +to them alone. Cause that poor suffering heart to open itself to you. +Question your child. Make her speak, above all things make her weep, to +rid her of the burden that is stifling her, so that her tear-dimmed +eyes can no longer distinguish in space that horrible unknown thing upon +which they are fixed in desperation now. + +For nearly a month past, ever since the day when Sidonie came and took +Frantz away in her coupe, Desiree had known that she was no longer +loved, and she knew her rival's name. She bore them no ill-will, she +pitied them rather. But, why had he returned? Why had he so heedlessly +given her false hopes? How many tears had she devoured in silence since +those hours! How many tales of woe had she told her little birds! For +once more it was work that had sustained her, desperate, incessant work, +which, by its regularity and monotony, by the constant recurrence of +the same duties and the same motions, served as a balance-wheel to her +thoughts. + +Lately Frantz was not altogether lost to her. Although he came but +rarely to see her, she knew that he was there, she could hear him go in +and out, pace, the floor with restless step, and sometimes, through the +half-open door, see his loved shadow hurry across the landing. He did +not seem happy. Indeed, what happiness could be in store for him? He +loved his brother's wife. And at the thought that Frantz was not happy, +the fond creature almost forgot her own sorrow to think only of the +sorrow of the man she loved. + +She was well aware that it was impossible that he could ever love her +again. But she thought that perhaps she would see him come in some day, +wounded and dying, that he would sit down on the little low chair, lay +his head on her knees, and with a great sob tell her of his suffering +and say to her, "Comfort me." + +That forlorn hope kept her alive for three weeks. She needed so little +as that. + +But no. Even that was denied her. Frantz had gone, gone without a glance +for her, without a parting word. The lover's desertion was followed by +the desertion of the friend. It was horrible! + +At her father's first words, she felt as if she were hurled into a deep, +ice-cold abyss, filled with darkness, into which she plunged swiftly, +helplessly, well knowing that she would never return to the light. She +was suffocating. She would have liked to resist, to struggle, to call +for help. + +Who was there who had the power to sustain her in that great disaster? + +God? The thing that is called Heaven? + +She did not even think of that. In Paris, especially in the quarters +where the working class live, the houses are too high, the streets too +narrow, the air too murky for heaven to be seen. + +It was Death alone at which the little cripple was gazing so earnestly. +Her course was determined upon at once: she must die. But how? + +Sitting motionless in her easy-chair, she considered what manner of +death she should choose. As she was almost never alone, she could not +think of the brazier of charcoal, to be lighted after closing the doors +and windows. As she never went out she could not think either of poison +to be purchased at the druggist's, a little package of white powder +to be buried in the depths of the pocket, with the needle-case and the +thimble. There was the phosphorus on the matches, too, the verdigris on +old sous, the open window with the paved street below; but the thought +of forcing upon her parents the ghastly spectacle of a self-inflicted +death-agony, the thought that what would remain of her, picked up amid +a crowd of people, would be so frightful to look upon, made her reject +that method. + +She still had the river. At all events, the water carries you away +somewhere, so that nobody finds you and your death is shrouded in +mystery. + +The river! She shuddered at the mere thought. But it was not the vision +of the deep, black water that terrified her. The girls of Paris laugh +at that. You throw your apron over your head so that you can't see, and +pouf! But she must go downstairs, into the street, all alone, and the +street frightened her. + +Yes, it was a terrible thing to go out into the street alone. She must +wait until the gas was out, steal softly downstairs when her mother had +gone to bed, pull the cord of the gate, and make her way across Paris, +where you meet men who stare impertinently into your face, and pass +brilliantly lighted cafes. The river was a long distance away. She would +be very tired. However, there was no other way than that. + +"I am going to bed, my child; are you going to sit up any longer?" + +With her eyes on her work, "my child" replied that she was. She wished +to finish her dozen. + +"Good-night, then," said Mamma Delobelle, her enfeebled sight being +unable to endure the light longer. "I have put father's supper by the +fire. Just look at it before you go to bed." + +Desire did not lie. She really intended to finish her dozen, so that her +father could take them to the shop in the morning; and really, to see +that tranquil little head bending forward in the white light of the +lamp, one would never have imagined all the sinister thoughts with which +it was thronged. + +At last she takes up the last bird of the dozen, a marvellously lovely +little bird whose wings seem to have been dipped in sea-water, all green +as they are with a tinge of sapphire. + +Carefully, daintily, Desiree suspends it on a piece of brass wire, in +the charming attitude of a frightened creature about to fly away. + +Ah! how true it is that the little blue bird is about to fly away! What +a desperate flight into space! How certain one feels that this time it +is the great journey, the everlasting journey from which there is no +return! + +By and by, very softly, Desiree opens the wardrobe and takes a thin +shawl which she throws over her shoulders; then she goes. What? Not a +glance at her mother, not a silent farewell, not a tear? No, nothing! +With the terrible clearness of vision of those who are about to die, she +suddenly realizes that her childhood and youth have been sacrificed to +a vast self-love. She feels very sure that a word from their great man +will comfort that sleeping mother, with whom she is almost angry for not +waking, for allowing her to go without a quiver of her closed eyelids. + +When one dies young, even by one's own act, it is never without a +rebellious feeling, and poor Desiree bids adieu to life, indignant with +destiny. + +Now she is in the street. Where is she going? Everything seems deserted +already. Desiree walks rapidly, wrapped in her little shawl, head erect, +dry-eyed. Not knowing the way, she walks straight ahead. + +The dark, narrow streets of the Marais, where gas-jets twinkle at long +intervals, cross and recross and wind about, and again and again in her +feverish course she goes over the same ground. There is always something +between her and the river. And to think that, at that very hour, almost +in the same quarter, some one else is wandering through the streets, +waiting, watching, desperate! Ah! if they could but meet. Suppose she +should accost that feverish watcher, should ask him to direct her: + +"I beg your pardon, Monsieur. How can I get to the Seine?" + +He would recognize her at once. + +"What! Can it be you, Mam'zelle Zizi? What are you doing out-of-doors at +this time of night?" + +"I am going to die, Frantz. You have taken away all my pleasure in +living." + +Thereupon he, deeply moved, would seize her, press her to his heart and +carry her away in his arms, saying: + +"Oh! no, do not die. I need you to comfort me, to cure all the wounds +the other has inflicted on me." + +But that is a mere poet's dream, one of the meetings that life can not +bring about. + +Streets, more streets, then a square and a bridge whose lanterns make +another luminous bridge in the black water. Here is the river at last. +The mist of that damp, soft autumn evening causes all of this huge +Paris, entirely strange to her as it is, to appear to her like an +enormous confused mass, which her ignorance of the landmarks magnifies +still more. This is the place where she must die. + +Poor little Desiree! + +She recalls the country excursion which Frantz had organized for her. +That breath of nature, which she breathed that day for the first time, +falls to her lot again at the moment of her death. "Remember," it seems +to say to her; and she replies mentally, "Oh! yes, I remember." + +She remembers only too well. When it arrives at the end of the quay, +which was bedecked as for a holiday, the furtive little shadow pauses at +the steps leading down to the bank. + +Almost immediately there are shouts and excitement all along the quay: + +"Quick--a boat--grappling-irons!" Boatmen and policemen come running +from all sides. A boat puts off from the shore with a lantern in the +bow. + +The flower-women awake, and, when one of them asks with a yawn what is +happening, the woman who keeps the cafe that crouches at the corner of +the bridge answers coolly: + +"A woman just jumped into the river." + +But no. The river has refused to take that child. It has been moved +to pity by so great gentleness and charm. In the light of the lanterns +swinging to and fro on the shore, a black group forms and moves away. +She is saved! It was a sand-hauler who fished her out. Policemen are +carrying her, surrounded by boatmen and lightermen, and in the darkness +a hoarse voice is heard saying with a sneer: "That water-hen gave me a +lot of trouble. You ought to see how she slipped through my fingers! +I believe she wanted to make me lose my reward." Gradually the tumult +subsides, the bystanders disperse, and the black group moves away toward +a police-station. + +Ah! poor girl, you thought that it was an easy matter to have done with +life, to disappear abruptly. You did not know that, instead of bearing +you away swiftly to the oblivion you sought, the river would drive you +back to all the shame, to all the ignominy of unsuccessful suicide. +First of all, the station, the hideous station, with its filthy benches, +its floor where the sodden dust seems like mud from the street. There +Desiree was doomed to pass the rest of the night. + +At last day broke with the shuddering glare so distressing to invalids. +Suddenly aroused from her torpor, Desiree sat up in her bed, threw off +the blanket in which they had wrapped her, and despite fatigue and fever +tried to stand, in order to regain full possession of her faculties and +her will. She had but one thought--to escape from all those eyes that +were opening on all sides, to leave that frightful place where the +breath of sleep was so heavy and its attitudes so distorted. + +"I implore you, messieurs," she said, trembling from head to foot, "let +me return to mamma." + +Hardened as they were to Parisian dramas, even those good people +realized that they were face to face with something more worthy of +attention, more affecting than usual. But they could not take her back +to her mother as yet. She must go before the commissioner first. That +was absolutely necessary. They called a cab from compassion for her; but +she must go from the station to the cab, and there was a crowd at the +door to stare at the little lame girl with the damp hair glued to +her temples, and her policeman's blanket which did not prevent her +shivering. At headquarters she was conducted up a dark, damp stairway +where sinister figures were passing to and fro. + +When Desiree entered the room, a man rose from the shadow and came to +meet her, holding out his hand. + +It was the man of the reward, her hideous rescuer at twenty-five francs. + +"Well, little-mother," he said, with his cynical laugh, and in a voice +that made one think of foggy nights on the water, "how are we since our +dive?" + +The unhappy girl was burning red with fever and shame; so bewildered +that it seemed to her as if the river had left a veil over her eyes, a +buzzing in her ears. At last she was ushered into a smaller room, into +the presence of a pompous individual, wearing the insignia of the Legion +of Honor, Monsieur le Commissaire in person, who was sipping his 'cafe +au lait' and reading the 'Gazette des Tribunaux.' + +"Ah! it's you, is it?" he said in a surly tone and without raising his +eyes from his paper, as he dipped a piece of bread in his cup; and the +officer who had brought Desiree began at once to read his report: + +"At quarter to twelve, on Quai de la Megisserie, in front of No. 17, the +woman Delobelle, twenty-four years old, flower-maker, living with her +parents on Rue de Braque, tried to commit suicide by throwing herself +into the Seine, and was taken out safe and sound by Sieur Parcheminet, +sand-hauler of Rue de la Butte-Chaumont." + +Monsieur le Commissaire listened as he ate, with the listless, bored +expression of a man whom nothing can surprise; at the end he gazed +sternly and with a pompous affectation of virtue at the woman Delobelle, +and lectured her in the most approved fashion. It was very wicked, it +was cowardly, this thing that she had done. What could have driven her +to such an evil act? Why did she seek to destroy herself? Come, woman +Delobelle, answer, why was it? + +But the woman Delobelle obstinately declined to answer. It seemed to her +that it would put a stigma upon her love to avow it in such a place. "I +don't know--I don't know," she whispered, shivering. + +Testy and impatient, the commissioner decided that she should be taken +back to her parents, but only on one condition: she must promise never +to try it again. + +"Come, do you promise?" + +"Oh! yes, Monsieur." + +"You will never try again?" + +"Oh! no, indeed I will not, never--never!" + +Notwithstanding her protestations, Monsieur le Commissaire de Police +shook his head, as if he did not trust her oath. + +Now she is outside once more, on the way to her home, to a place of +refuge; but her martyrdom was not yet at an end. + +In the carriage, the officer who accompanied her was too polite, too +affable. She seemed not to understand, shrank from him, withdrew her +hand. What torture! But the most terrible moment of all was the arrival +in Rue de Braque, where the whole house was in a state of commotion, and +the inquisitive curiosity of the neighbors must be endured. Early in the +morning the whole quarter had been informed of her disappearance. It +was rumored that she had gone away with Frantz Risler. The illustrious +Delobelle had gone forth very early, intensely agitated, with his +hat awry and rumpled wristbands, a sure indication of extraordinary +preoccupation; and the concierge, on taking up the provisions, had found +the poor mother half mad, running from one room to another, looking for +a note from the child, for any clew, however unimportant, that would +enable her at least to form some conjecture. + +Suddenly a carriage stopped in front of the door. Voices and footsteps +echoed through the hall. + +"M'ame Delobelle, here she is! Your daughter's been found." + +It was really Desiree who came toiling up the stairs on the arm of a +stranger, pale and fainting, without hat or shawl, and wrapped in a +great brown cape. When she saw her mother she smiled at her with an +almost foolish expression. + +"Do not be alarmed, it is nothing," she tried to say, then sank to the +floor. Mamma Delobelle would never have believed that she was so strong. +To lift her daughter, take her into the room, and put her to bed was a +matter of a moment; and she talked to her and kissed her. + +"Here you are at last. Where have you come from, you bad child? Tell +me, is it true that you tried to kill yourself? Were you suffering so +terribly? Why did you conceal it from me?" + +When she saw her mother in that condition, with tear-stained face, aged +in a few short hours, Desiree felt a terrible burden of remorse. She +remembered that she had gone away without saying good-by to her, and +that in the depths of her heart she had accused her of not loving her. + +Not loving her! + +"Why, it would kill me if you should die," said the poor mother. "Oh! +when I got up this morning and saw that your bed hadn't been slept in +and that you weren't in the workroom either!--I just turned round and +fell flat. Are you warm now? Do you feel well? You won't do it again, +will you--try to kill yourself?" + +And she tucked in the bed-clothes, rubbed her feet, and rocked her upon +her breast. + +As she lay in bed with her eyes closed, Desiree saw anew all the +incidents of her suicide, all the hideous scenes through which she had +passed in returning from death to life. In the fever, which rapidly +increased, in the intense drowsiness which began to overpower her, her +mad journey across Paris continued to excite and torment her. Myriads +of dark streets stretched away before her, with the Seine at the end of +each. + +That ghastly river, which she could not find in the night, haunted her +now. + +She felt that she was besmirched with its slime, its mud; and in the +nightmare that oppressed her, the poor child, powerless to escape the +obsession of her recollections, whispered to her mother: "Hide me--hide +me--I am ashamed!" + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. SHE PROMISED NOT TO TRY AGAIN + +Oh! no, she will not try it again. Monsieur le Commissaire need have no +fear. In the first place how could she go as far as the river, now that +she can not stir from her bed? If Monsieur le Commissaire could see her +now, he would not doubt her word. Doubtless the wish, the longing for +death, so unmistakably written on her pale face the other morning, +are still visible there; but they are softened, resigned. The woman +Delobelle knows that by waiting a little, yes, a very little time, she +will have nothing more to wish for. + +The doctors declare that she is dying of pneumonia; she must have +contracted it in her wet clothes. The doctors are mistaken; it is not +pneumonia. Is it her love, then, that is killing her? No. Since that +terrible night she no longer thinks of Frantz, she no longer feels that +she is worthy to love or to be loved. Thenceforth there is a stain upon +her spotless life, and it is of the shame of that and of nothing else +that she is dying. + +Mamma Delobelle sits by Desiree's bed, working by the light from the +window, and nursing her daughter. From time to time she raises her eyes +to contemplate that mute despair, that mysterious disease, then hastily +resumes her work; for it is one of the hardest trials of the poor that +they can not suffer at their ease. + +Mamma Delobelle had to work alone now, and her fingers had not the +marvellous dexterity of Desiree's little hands; medicines were dear, and +she would not for anything in the world have interfered with one of "the +father's" cherished habits. And so, at whatever hour the invalid opened +her eyes, she would see her mother, in the pale light of early morning, +or under her night lamp, working, working without rest. + +Between two stitches the mother would look up at her child, whose face +grew paler and paler: + +"How do you feel?" + +"Very well," the sick girl would reply, with a faint, heartbroken smile, +which illumined her sorrowful face and showed all the ravages that had +been wrought upon it, as a sunbeam, stealing into a poor man's lodging, +instead of brightening it, brings out more clearly its cheerlessness and +nudity. + +The illustrious Delobelle was never there. He had not changed in any +respect the habits of a strolling player out of an engagement. And +yet he knew that his daughter was dying: the doctor had told him so. +Moreover, it had been a terrible blow to him, for, at heart, he loved +his child dearly; but in that singular nature the most sincere and the +most genuine feelings adopted a false and unnatural mode of expression, +by the same law which ordains that, when a shelf is placed awry, nothing +that you place upon it seems to stand straight. + +Delobelle's natural tendency was, before everything, to air his grief, +to spread it abroad. He played the role of the unhappy father from one +end of the boulevard to the other. He was always to be found in the +neighborhood of the theatres or at the actors' restaurant, with red eyes +and pale cheeks. He loved to invite the question, "Well, my poor old +fellow, how are things going at home?" Thereupon he would shake his +head with a nervous gesture; his grimace held tears in check, his mouth +imprecations, and he would stab heaven with a silent glance, overflowing +with wrath, as when he played the 'Medecin des Enfants;' all of which +did not prevent him, however, from bestowing the most delicate and +thoughtful attentions upon his daughter. + +He also maintained an unalterable confidence in himself, no matter what +happened. And yet his eyes came very near being opened to the truth at +last. A hot little hand laid upon that pompous, illusion-ridden head +came very near expelling the bee that had been buzzing there so long. +This is how it came to pass. + +One night Desiree awoke with a start, in a very strange state. It +should be said that the doctor, when he came to see her on the preceding +evening, had been greatly surprised to find her suddenly brighter and +calmer, and entirely free from fever. Without attempting to explain this +unhoped-for resurrection, he had gone away, saying, "Let us wait and +see"; he relied upon the power of youth to throw off disease, upon the +resistless force of the life-giving sap, which often engrafts a new +life upon the very symptoms of death. If he had looked under Desiree's +pillow, he would have found there a letter postmarked Cairo, wherein lay +the secret of that happy change. Four pages signed by Frantz, his whole +conduct confessed and explained to his dear little Zizi. + +It was the very letter of which the sick girl had dreamed. If she had +dictated it herself, all the phrases likely to touch her heart, all the +delicately worded excuses likely to pour balm into her wounds, would +have been less satisfactorily expressed. Frantz repented, asked +forgiveness, and without making any promises, above all without asking +anything from her, described to his faithful friend his struggles, his +remorse, his sufferings. + +What a misfortune that that letter had not arrived a few days earlier. +Now, all those kind words were to Desiree like the dainty dishes that +are brought too late to a man dying of hunger. + +Suddenly she awoke, and, as we said a moment since, in an extraordinary +state. + +In her head, which seemed to her lighter than usual, there suddenly +began a grand procession of thoughts and memories. The most distant +periods of her past seemed to approach her. The most trivial incidents +of her childhood, scenes that she had not then understood, words heard +as in a dream, recurred to her mind. + +From her bed she could see her father and mother, one by her side, +the other in the workroom, the door of which had been left open. Mamma +Delobelle was lying back in her chair in the careless attitude of +long-continued fatigue, heeded at last; and all the scars, the ugly +sabre cuts with which age and suffering brand the faces of the +old, manifested themselves, ineffaceable and pitiful to see, in the +relaxation of slumber. Desiree would have liked to be strong enough to +rise and kiss that lovely, placid brow, furrowed by wrinkles which did +not mar its beauty. + +In striking contrast to that picture, the illustrious Delobelle appeared +to his daughter through the open door in one of his favorite attitudes. +Seated before the little white cloth that bore his supper, with his body +at an angle of sixty-seven and a half degrees, he was eating and at the +same time running through a pamphlet which rested against the carafe in +front of him. + +For the first time in her life Desiree noticed the striking lack of +harmony between her emaciated mother, scantily clad in little black +dresses which made her look even thinner and more haggard than she +really was, and her happy, well-fed, idle, placid, thoughtless father. +At a glance she realized the difference between the two lives. What +would become of them when she was no longer there? Either her mother +would work too hard and would kill herself; or else the poor woman +would be obliged to cease working altogether, and that selfish husband, +forever engrossed by his theatrical ambition, would allow them both to +drift gradually into abject poverty, that black hole which widens and +deepens as one goes down into it. + +Suppose that, before going away--something told her that she would go +very soon--before going away, she should tear away the thick bandage +that the poor man kept over his eyes wilfully and by force? + +Only a hand as light and loving as hers could attempt that operation. +Only she had the right to say to her father: + +"Earn your living. Give up the stage." + +Thereupon, as time was flying, Desire Delobelle summoned all her courage +and called softly: + +"Papa-papa" + +At his daughter's first summons the great man hurried to her side. He +entered Desiree's bedroom, radiant and superb, very erect, his lamp in +his hand and a camellia in his buttonhole. + +"Good evening, Zizi. Aren't you asleep?" + +His voice had a joyous intonation that produced a strange effect amid +the prevailing gloom. Desiree motioned to him not to speak, pointing to +her sleeping mother. + +"Put down your lamp--I have something to say to you." + +Her voice, broken by emotion, impressed him; and so did her eyes, for +they seemed larger than usual, and were lighted by a piercing glance +that he had never seen in them. + +He approached with something like awe. + +"Why, what's the matter, Bichette? Do you feel any worse?" + +Desiree replied with a movement of her little pale face that she felt +very ill and that she wanted to speak to him very close, very close. +When the great man stood by her pillow, she laid her burning hand on the +great man's arm and whispered in his ear. She was very ill, hopelessly +ill. She realized fully that she had not long to live. + +"Then, father, you will be left alone with mamma. Don't tremble like +that. You knew that this thing must come, yes, that it was very near. +But I want to tell you this. When I am gone, I am terribly afraid mamma +won't be strong enough to support the family just see how pale and +exhausted she is." + +The actor looked at his "sainted wife," and seemed greatly surprised to +find that she did really look so badly. Then he consoled himself with +the selfish remark: + +"She never was very strong." + +That remark and the tone in which it was made angered Desiree and +strengthened her determination. She continued, without pity for the +actor's illusions: + +"What will become of you two when I am no longer here? Oh! I know +that you have great hopes, but it takes them a long while to come to +anything. The results you have waited for so long may not arrive for +a long time to come; and until then what will you do? Listen! my dear +father, I would not willingly hurt you; but it seems to me that at your +age, as intelligent as you are, it would be easy for you--I am sure +Monsieur Risler Aine would ask nothing better." + +She spoke slowly, with an effort, carefully choosing her words, leaving +long pauses between every two sentences, hoping always that they might +be filled by a movement, an exclamation from her father. But the actor +did not understand. + +"I think that you would do well," pursued Desiree, timidly, "I think +that you would do well to give up--" + +"Eh?--what?--what's that?" + +She paused when she saw the effect of her words. The old actor's mobile +features were suddenly contracted under the lash of violent despair; and +tears, genuine tears which he did not even think of concealing behind +his hand as they do on the stage, filled his eyes but did not flow, so +tightly did his agony clutch him by the throat. The poor devil began to +understand. + +She murmured twice or thrice: + +"To give up--to give up--" + +Then her little head fell back upon the pillow, and she died without +having dared to tell him what he would do well to give up. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. APPROACHING CLOUDS + +One night, near the end of January, old Sigismond Planus, cashier of the +house of Fromont Jeune and Risler Aine, was awakened with a start in his +little house at Montrouge by the same teasing voice, the same rattling +of chains, followed by that fatal cry: + +"The notes!" + +"That is true," thought the worthy man, sitting up in bed; "day after +to-morrow will be the last day of the month. And I have the courage to +sleep!" + +In truth, a considerable sum of money must be raised: a hundred thousand +francs to be paid on two obligations, and at a moment when, for the +first time in thirty years, the strong-box of the house of Fromont was +absolutely empty. What was to be done? Sigismond had tried several +times to speak to Fromont Jeune, but he seemed to shun the burdensome +responsibility of business, and when he walked through the offices was +always in a hurry, feverishly excited, and seemed neither to see +nor hear anything about him. He answered the old cashier's anxious +questions, gnawing his moustache: + +"All right, all right, my old Planus. Don't disturb yourself; I will +look into it." And as he said it, he seemed to be thinking of something +else, to be a thousand leagues away from his surroundings. It was +rumored in the factory, where his liaison with Madame Risler was no +longer a secret to anybody, that Sidonie deceived him, made him very +unhappy; and, indeed, his mistress's whims worried him much more than +his cashier's anxiety. As for Risler, no one ever saw him; he passed +his days shut up in a room under the roof, overseeing the mysterious, +interminable manufacture of his machines. + +This indifference on the part of the employers to the affairs of the +factory, this absolute lack of oversight, had led by slow degrees +to general demoralization. Some business was still done, because an +established house will go on alone for years by force of the first +impetus; but what ruin, what chaos beneath that apparent prosperity? + +Sigismond knew it better than any one, and as if to see his way more +clearly amid the multitude of painful thoughts which whirled madly +through his brain, the cashier lighted his candle, sat down on his bed, +and thought, "Where were they to find that hundred thousand francs?" + +"Take the notes back. I have no funds to meet them." + +No, no! That was not possible. Any sort of humiliation was preferable to +that. + +"Well, it's decided. I will go to-morrow," sighed the poor cashier. + +And he tossed about in torture, unable to close an eye until morning. + +Notwithstanding the late hour, Georges Fromont had not yet retired. He +was sitting by the fire, with his head in his hands, in the blind and +dumb concentration due to irreparable misfortune, thinking of Sidonie, +of that terrible Sidonie who was asleep at that moment on the floor +above. She was positively driving him mad. She was false to him, he +was sure of it,--she was false to him with the Toulousan tenor, that +Cazabon, alias Cazaboni, whom Madame Dobson had brought to the house. +For a long time he had implored her not to receive that man; but Sidonie +would not listen to him, and on that very day, speaking of a grand ball +she was about to give, she had declared explicitly that nothing should +prevent her inviting her tenor. + +"Then he's your lover!" Georges had exclaimed angrily, his eyes gazing +into hers. + +She had not denied it; she had not even turned her eyes away. + +And to think that he had sacrificed everything to that woman--his +fortune, his honor, even his lovely Claire, who lay sleeping with her +child in the adjoining room--a whole lifetime of happiness within reach +of his hand, which he had spurned for that vile creature! Now she had +admitted that she did not love him, that she loved another. And he, +the coward, still longed for her. In heaven's name, what potion had she +given him? + +Carried away by indignation that made the blood boil in his veins, +Georges Fromont started from his armchair and strode feverishly up and +down the room, his footsteps echoing in the silence of the sleeping +house like living insomnia. The other was asleep upstairs. She could +sleep by favor of her heedless, remorseless nature. Perhaps, too, she +was thinking of her Cazaboni. + +When that thought passed through his mind, Georges had a mad longing to +go up, to wake Risler, to tell him everything and destroy himself with +her. Really that deluded husband was too idiotic! Why did he not watch +her more closely? She was pretty enough, yes, and vicious enough, too, +for every precaution to be taken with her. + +And it was while he was struggling amid such cruel and unfruitful +reflections as these that the devil of anxiety whispered in his ear: + +"The notes! the notes!" + +The miserable wretch! In his wrath he had entirely forgotten them. +And yet he had long watched the approach of that terrible last day of +January. How many times, between two assignations, when his mind, free +for a moment from thoughts of Sidonie, recurred to his business, to the +realities of life-how many times had he said to himself, "That day +will be the end of everything!" But, as with all those who live in the +delirium of intoxication, his cowardice convinced him that it was too +late to mend matters, and he returned more quickly and more determinedly +to his evil courses, in order to forget, to divert his thoughts. + +But that was no longer possible. He saw the impending disaster clearly, +in its full meaning; and Sigismond Planus's wrinkled, solemn face rose +before him with its sharply cut features, whose absence of expression +softened their harshness, and his light German-Swiss eyes, which had +haunted him for many weeks with their impassive stare. + +Well, no, he had not the hundred thousand francs, nor did he know where +to get them. + +The crisis which, a few hours before, seemed to him a chaos, an eddying +whirl in which he could see nothing distinctly and whose very confusion +was a source of hope, appeared to him at that moment with appalling +distinctness. An empty cash-box, closed doors, notes protested, ruin, +are the phantoms he saw whichever way he turned. And when, on top of +all the rest, came the thought of Sidonie's treachery, the wretched, +desperate man, finding nothing to cling to in that shipwreck, suddenly +uttered a sob, a cry of agony, as if appealing for help to some higher +power. + +"Georges, Georges, it is I. What is the matter?" + +His wife stood before him, his wife who now waited for him every night, +watching anxiously for his return from the club, for she still believed +that he passed his evenings there. That night she had heard him walking +very late in his room. At last her child fell asleep, and Claire, +hearing the father sob, ran to him. + +Oh! what boundless, though tardy remorse overwhelmed him when he saw her +before him, so deeply moved, so lovely and so loving! Yes, she was in +very truth the true companion, the faithful friend. How could he have +deserted her? For a long, long time he wept upon her shoulder, unable +to speak. And it was fortunate that he did not speak, for he would have +told her all, all. The unhappy man felt the need of pouring out his +heart--an irresistible longing to accuse himself, to ask forgiveness, to +lessen the weight of the remorse that was crushing him. + +She spared him the pain of uttering a word: + +"You have been gambling, have you not? You have lost--lost heavily?" + +He moved his head affirmatively; then, when he was able to speak, he +confessed that he must have a hundred thousand francs for the day after +the morrow, and that he did not know how to obtain them. + +She did not reproach him. She was one of those women who, when face +to face with disaster, think only of repairing it, without a word of +recrimination. Indeed, in the bottom of her heart she blessed this +misfortune which brought him nearer to her and became a bond between +their two lives, which had long lain so far apart. She reflected a +moment. Then, with an effort indicating a resolution which had cost a +bitter struggle, she said: + +"Not all is lost as yet. I will go to Savigny tomorrow and ask my +grandfather for the money." + +He would never have dared to suggest that to her. Indeed, it would never +have occurred to him. She was so proud and old Gardinois so hard! Surely +that was a great sacrifice for her to make for him, and a striking proof +of her love. + +"Claire, Claire--how good your are!" he said. + +Without replying, she led him to their child's cradle. + +"Kiss her," she said softly; and as they stood there side by side, their +heads leaning over the child, Georges was afraid of waking her, and he +embraced the mother passionately. + + + + +CHAPTER XX. REVELATIONS + +"Ah! here's Sigismond. How goes the world, Pere Sigismond? How is +business? Is it good with you?" + +The old cashier smiled affably, shook hands with the master, his wife, +and his brother, and, as they talked, looked curiously about. They +were in a manufactory of wallpapers on Faubourg Saint-Antoine, the +establishment of the little Prochassons, who were beginning to be +formidable rivals. Those former employees of the house of Fromont had +set up on their own account, beginning in a very, small way, and had +gradually succeeded in making for themselves a place on 'Change. Fromont +the uncle had assisted them for a long while with his credit and his +money; the result being most friendly relations between the two firms, +and a balance--between ten or fifteen thousand francs--which had never +been definitely adjusted, because they knew that money was in good hands +when the Prochassons had it. + +Indeed, the appearance of the factory was most reassuring. The chimneys +proudly shook their plumes of smoke. The dull roar of constant toil +indicated that the workshops were full of workmen and activity. The +buildings were in good repair, the windows clean; everything had an +aspect of enthusiasm, of good-humor, of discipline; and behind the +grating in the counting-room sat the wife of one of the brothers, simply +dressed, with her hair neatly arranged, and an air of authority on her +youthful face, deeply intent upon a long column of figures. + +Old Sigismond thought bitterly of the difference between the house +of Fromont, once so wealthy, now living entirely upon its former +reputation, and the ever-increasing prosperity of the establishment +before his eyes. His stealthy glance penetrated to the darkest corners, +seeking some defect, something to criticise; and his failure to find +anything made his heart heavy and his smile forced and anxious. + +What embarrassed him most of all was the question how he should approach +the subject of the money due his employers without betraying the +emptiness of the strongbox. The poor man assumed a jaunty, unconcerned +air which was truly pitiful to see. Business was good--very good. He +happened to be passing through the quarter and thought he would come in +a moment--that was natural, was it not? One likes to see old friends. + +But these preambles, these constantly expanding circumlocutions, did not +bring him to the point he wished to reach; on the contrary, they led him +away from his goal, and imagining that he detected surprise in the eyes +of his auditors, he went completely astray, stammered, lost his head, +and, as a last resort, took his hat and pretended to go. At the door he +suddenly bethought himself: + +"Ah! by the way, so long as I am here--" + +He gave a little wink which he thought sly, but which was in reality +heartrending. + +"So long as I am here, suppose we settle that old account." + +The two brothers and the young woman in the counting-room gazed at one +another a second, unable to understand. + +"Account? What account, pray?" + +Then all three began to laugh at the same moment, and heartily too, as +if at a joke, a rather broad joke, on the part of the old cashier. "Go +along with you, you sly old Pere Planus!" The old man laughed with them! +He laughed without any desire to laugh, simply to do as the others did. + +At last they explained. Fromont Jeune had come in person, six months +before, to collect the balance in their hands. + +Sigismond felt that his strength was going. But he summoned courage to +say: + +"Ah! yes; true. I had forgotten. Sigismond Planus is growing old, that +is plain. I am failing, my children, I am failing." + +And the old man went away wiping his eyes, in which still glistened +great tears caused by the hearty laugh he had just enjoyed. The +young people behind him exchanged glances and shook their heads. They +understood. + +The blow he had received was so crushing that the cashier, as soon as +he was out-of-doors, was obliged to sit down on a bench. So that was the +reason why Georges did not come to the counting-room for money. He made +his collections in person. What had taken place at the Prochassons' had +probably been repeated everywhere else. It was quite useless, therefore, +for him to subject himself to further humiliation. Yes, but the notes, +the notes!--that thought renewed his strength. He wiped the perspiration +from his forehead and started once more to try his luck with a customer +in the faubourg. But this time he took his precautions and called to the +cashier from the doorway, without entering: + +"Good-morning, Pere So-and-So. I want to ask you a question." + +He held the door half open, his hand upon the knob. + +"When did we settle our last bill? I forgot to enter it." + +Oh! it was a long while ago, a very long while, that their last bill +was settled. Fromont Jeune's receipt was dated in September. It was five +months ago. + +The door was hastily closed. Another! Evidently it would be the same +thing everywhere. + +"Ah! Monsieur Chorche, Monsieur Chorche," muttered poor Sigismond; and +while he pursued his journey, with bowed head and trembling legs, Madame +Fromont Jeune's carriage passed him close, on its way to the Orleans +station; but Claire did not see old Planus, any more than she had seen, +when she left her house a few moments earlier, Monsieur Chebe in his +long frock-coat and the illustrious Delobelle in his stovepipe hat, +turning into the Rue des Vieilles-Haudriettes at opposite ends, each +with the factory and Risler's wallet for his objective point. The young +woman was much too deeply engrossed by what she had before her to look +into the street. + +Think of it! It was horrible. To go and ask M. Gardinois for a hundred +thousand francs--M. Gardinois, a man who boasted that he had never +borrowed or loaned a sou in his life, who never lost an opportunity +to tell how, on one occasion, being driven to ask his father for forty +francs to buy a pair of trousers, he had repaid the loan in small +amounts. In his dealings with everybody, even with his children, M. +Gardinois followed those traditions of avarice which the earth, the +cruel earth, often ungrateful to those who till it, seems to inculcate +in all peasants. The old man did not intend that any part of his +colossal fortune should go to his children during his lifetime. + +"They'll find my property when I am dead," he often said. + +Acting upon that principle, he had married off his daughter, the elder +Madame Fromont, without one sou of dowry, and he never forgave his +son-in-law for having made a fortune without assistance from him. For +it was one of the peculiarities of that nature, made up of vanity and +selfishness in equal parts, to wish that every one he knew should need +his help, should bow before his wealth. When the Fromonts expressed in +his presence their satisfaction at the prosperous turn their business +was beginning to take, his sharp, cunning, little blue eye would smile +ironically, and he would growl, "We shall see what it all comes to in +the end," in a tone that made them tremble. Sometimes, too, at Savigny, +in the evening, when the park, the avenues, the blue slates of the +chateau, the red brick of the stables, the ponds and brooks shone +resplendent, bathed in the golden glory of a lovely sunset, this +eccentric parvenu would say aloud before his children, after looking +about him: + +"The one thing that consoles me for dying some day is that no one in +the family will ever be rich enough to keep a chateau that costs fifty +thousand francs a year to maintain." + +And yet, with that latter-day tenderness which even the sternest +grandfathers find in the depths of their hearts, old Gardinois would +gladly have made a pet of his granddaughter. But Claire, even as a +child, had felt an invincible repugnance for the former peasant's +hardness of heart and vainglorious selfishness. And when affection forms +no bonds between those who are separated by difference in education, +such repugnance is increased by innumerable trifles. When Claire married +Georges, the grandfather said to Madame Fromont: + +"If your daughter wishes, I will give her a royal present; but she must +ask for it." + +But Claire received nothing, because she would not ask for anything. + +What a bitter humiliation to come, three years later, to beg a hundred +thousand francs from the generosity she had formerly spurned, to humble +herself, to face the endless sermons, the sneering raillery, the whole +seasoned with Berrichon jests, with phrases smacking of the soil, with +the taunts, often well-deserved, which narrow, but logical, minds can +utter on occasion, and which sting with their vulgar patois like an +insult from an inferior! + +Poor Claire! Her husband and her father were about to be humiliated in +her person. She must necessarily confess the failure of the one, the +downfall of the house which the other had founded and of which he had +been so proud while he lived. The thought that she would be called upon +to defend all that she loved best in the world made her strong and weak +at the same time. + +It was eleven o'clock when she reached Savigny. As she had given no +warning of her visit, the carriage from the chateau was not at the +station, and she had no choice but to walk. + +It was a cold morning and the roads were dry and hard. The north wind +blew freely across the arid fields and the river, and swept unopposed +through the leafless trees and bushes. The chateau appeared under +the low-hanging clouds, with its long line of low walls and hedges +separating it from the surrounding fields. The slates on the roof +were as dark as the sky they reflected; and that magnificent summer +residence, completely transformed by the bitter, silent winter, without +a leaf on its trees or a pigeon on its roofs, showed no life save in +its rippling brooks and the murmuring of the tall poplars as they bowed +majestically to one another, shaking the magpies' nests hidden among +their highest branches. + +At a distance Claire fancied that the home of her youth wore a surly, +depressed air. It seemed to het that Savigny watched her approach with +the cold, aristocratic expression which it assumed for passengers on the +highroad, who stopped at the iron bars of its gateways. + +Oh! the cruel aspect of everything! + +And yet not so cruel after all. For, with its tightly closed exterior, +Savigny seemed to say to her, "Begone--do not come in!" And if she +had chosen to listen, Claire, renouncing her plan of speaking to her +grandfather, would have returned at once to Paris to maintain the repose +of her life. But she did not understand, poor child! and already the +great Newfoundland dog, who had recognized her, came leaping through the +dead leaves and sniffed at the gate. + +"Good-morning, Francoise. Where is grandpapa?" the young woman asked +the gardener's wife, who came to open the gate, fawning and false and +trembling, like all the servants at the chateau when they felt that the +master's eye was upon them. + +Grandpapa was in his office, a little building independent of the main +house, where he passed his days fumbling among boxes and pigeonholes and +great books with green backs, with the rage for bureaucracy due to his +early ignorance and the strong impression made upon him long before by +the office of the notary in his village. + +At that moment he was closeted there with his keeper, a sort of country +spy, a paid informer who apprised him as to all that was said and done +in the neighborhood. + +He was the master's favorite. His name was Fouinat (polecat), and he had +the flat, crafty, blood-thirsty face appropriate to his name. + +When Claire entered, pale and trembling under her furs, the old man +understood that something serious and unusual had happened, and he made +a sign to Fouinat, who disappeared, gliding through the half-open door +as if he were entering the very wall. + +"What's the matter, little one? Why, you're all 'perlute'," said the +grandfather, seated behind his huge desk. + +Perlute, in the Berrichon dictionary, signifies troubled, excited, +upset, and applied perfectly to Claire's condition. Her rapid walk in +the cold country air, the effort she had made in order to do what she +was doing, imparted an unwonted expression to her face, which was much +less reserved than usual. Without the slightest encouragement on his +part, she kissed him and seated herself in front of the fire, where old +stumps, surrounded by dry moss and pine needles picked up in the paths, +were smouldering with occasional outbursts of life and the hissing of +sap. She did not even take time to shake off the frost that stood +in beads on her veil, but began to speak at once, faithful to her +resolution to state the object of her visit immediately upon entering +the room, before she allowed herself to be intimidated by the atmosphere +of fear and respect which encompassed the grandfather and made of him a +sort of awe-inspiring deity. + +She required all her courage not to become confused, not to interrupt +her narrative before that piercing gaze which transfixed her, enlivened +from her first words by a malicious joy, before that savage mouth whose +corners seemed tightly closed by premeditated reticence, obstinacy, a +denial of any sort of sensibility. She went on to the end in one speech, +respectful without humility, concealing her emotion, steadying her voice +by the consciousness of the truth of her story. Really, seeing them thus +face to face, he cold and calm, stretched out in his armchair, with +his hands in the pockets of his gray swansdown waistcoat, she carefully +choosing her words, as if each of them might condemn or absolve her, you +would never have said that it was a child before her grandfather, but an +accused person before an examining magistrate. + +His thoughts were entirely engrossed by the joy, the pride of his +triumph. So they were conquered at last, those proud upstarts of +Fromonts! So they needed old Gardinois at last, did they? Vanity, his +dominating passion, overflowed in his whole manner, do what he would. +When she had finished, he took the floor in his turn, began naturally +enough with "I was sure of it--I always said so--I knew we should see +what it would all come to"--and continued in the same vulgar, insulting +tone, ending with the declaration that, in view of his principles, which +were well known in the family, he would not lend a sou. + +Then Claire spoke of her child, of her husband's name, which was also +her father's, and which would be dishonored by the failure. The old +man was as cold, as implacable as ever, and took advantage of her +humiliation to humiliate her still more; for he belonged to the race of +worthy rustics who, when their enemy is down, never leave him without +leaving on his face the marks of the nails in their sabots. + +"All I can say to you, little one, is that Savigny is open to you. Let +your husband come here. I happen to need a secretary. Very well, Georges +can do my writing for twelve hundred francs a year and board for the +whole family. Offer him that from me, and come." + +She rose indignantly. She had come as his child and he had received her +as a beggar. They had not reached that point yet, thank God! + +"Do you think so?" queried M. Gardinois, with a savage light in his eye. + +Claire shuddered and walked toward the door without replying. The old +man detained her with a gesture. + +"Take care! you don't know what you're refusing. It is in your interest, +you understand, that I suggest bringing your husband here. You don't +know the life he is leading up yonder. Of course you don't know it, or +you'd never come and ask me for money to go where yours has gone. Ah! I +know all about your man's affairs. I have my police at Paris, yes, and +at Asnieres, as well as at Savigny. I know what the fellow does with his +days and his nights; and I don't choose that my crowns shall go to +the places where he goes. They're not clean enough for money honestly +earned." + +Claire's eyes opened wide in amazement and horror, for she felt that a +terrible drama had entered her life at that moment through the little +low door of denunciation. The old man continued with a sneer: + +"That little Sidonie has fine, sharp teeth." + +"Sidonie!" + +"Faith, yes, to be sure. I have told you the name. At all events, you'd +have found it out some day or other. In fact, it's an astonishing thing +that, since the time--But you women are so vain! The idea that a man +can deceive you is the last idea to come into your head. Well, yes, +Sidonie's the one who has got it all out of him--with her husband's +consent, by the way." + +He went on pitilessly to tell the young wife the source of the money +for the house at Asnieres, the horses, the carriages, and how the pretty +little nest in the Avenue Gabriel had been furnished. He explained +everything in detail. It was clear that, having found a new opportunity +to exercise his mania for espionage, he had availed himself of it to +the utmost; perhaps, too, there was at the bottom of it all a vague, +carefully concealed rage against his little Chebe, the anger of a senile +passion never declared. + +Claire listened to him without speaking, with a smile of incredulity. +That smile irritated the old man, spurred on his malice. "Ah! you don't +believe me. Ah! you want proofs, do you?" And he gave her proofs, heaped +them upon her, overpowered her with knife-thrusts in the heart. She had +only to go to Darches, the jeweller in the Rue de la Paix. A fortnight +before, Georges had bought a diamond necklace there for thirty thousand +francs. It was his New Year's gift to Sidonie. Thirty thousand francs +for diamonds at the moment of becoming bankrupt! + +He might have talked the entire day and Claire would not have +interrupted him. She felt that the slightest effort would cause the +tears that filled her eyes to overflow, and she was determined to +smile to the end, the sweet, brave woman. From time to time she cast +a sidelong glance at the road. She was in haste to go, to fly from the +sound of that spiteful voice, which pursued her pitilessly. + +At last he ceased; he had told the whole story. She bowed and walked +toward the door. + +"Are you going? What a hurry you're in!" said the grandfather, following +her outside. + +At heart he was a little ashamed of his savagery. + +"Won't you breakfast with me?" + +She shook her head, not having strength to speak. + +"At least wait till the carriage is ready--some one will drive you to +the station." + +No, still no. + +And she walked on, with the old man close behind her. Proudly, and with +head erect, she crossed the courtyard, filled with souvenirs of her +childhood, without once looking behind. And yet what echoes of hearty +laughter, what sunbeams of her younger days were imprinted in the +tiniest grain of gravel in that courtyard! + +Her favorite tree, her favorite bench, were still in the same place. She +had not a glance for them, nor for the pheasants in the aviary, nor even +for the great dog Kiss, who followed her docilely, awaiting the caress +which she did not give him. She had come as a child of the house, she +went away as a stranger, her mind filled with horrible thoughts which +the slightest reminder of her peaceful and happy past could not have +failed to aggravate. + +"Good-by, grandfather." + +"Good-by, then." + +And the gate closed upon her harshly. As soon as she was alone, she +began to walk swiftly, swiftly, almost to run. She was not merely going +away, she was escaping. Suddenly, when she reached the end of the wall +of the estate, she found herself in front of the little green gate, +surrounded by nasturtiums and honeysuckle, where the chateau mail-box +was. She stopped instinctively, struck by one of those sudden awakenings +of the memory which take place within us at critical moments and place +before our eyes with wonderful clearness of outline the most trivial +acts of our lives bearing any relation to present disasters or joys. Was +it the red sun that suddenly broke forth from the clouds, flooding the +level expanse with its oblique rays in that winter afternoon as at the +sunset hour in August? Was it the silence that surrounded her, broken +only by the harmonious sounds of nature, which are almost alike at all +seasons? + +Whatever the cause she saw herself once more as she was, at that same +spot, three years before, on a certain day when she placed in the post +a letter inviting Sidonie to come and pass a month with her in the +country. Something told her that all her misfortunes dated from that +moment. "Ah! had I known--had I only known!" And she fancied that she +could still feel between her fingers the smooth envelope, ready to drop +into the box. + +Thereupon, as she reflected what an innocent, hopeful, happy child she +was at that moment, she cried out indignantly, gentle creature that she +was, against the injustice of life. She asked herself: "Why is it? What +have I done?" + +Then she suddenly exclaimed: "No! it isn't true. It can not be possible. +Grandfather lied to me." And as she went on toward the station, the +unhappy girl tried to convince herself, to make herself believe what she +said. But she did not succeed. + +The truth dimly seen is like the veiled sun, which tires the eyes far +more than its most brilliant rays. In the semi-obscurity which still +enveloped her misfortune, the poor woman's sight was keener than she +could have wished. Now she understood and accounted for certain +peculiar circumstances in her husband's life, his frequent absences, his +restlessness, his embarrassed behavior on certain days, and the abundant +details which he sometimes volunteered, upon returning home, concerning +his movements, mentioning names as proofs which she did not ask. From +all these conjectures the evidence of his sin was made up. And still she +refused to believe it, and looked forward to her arrival in Paris to set +her doubts at rest. + +No one was at the station, a lonely, cheerless little place, where no +traveller ever showed his face in winter. As Claire sat there awaiting +the train, gazing vaguely at the station-master's melancholy little +garden, and the debris of climbing plants running along the fences by +the track, she felt a moist, warm breath on her glove. It was her friend +Kiss, who had followed her and was reminding her of their happy romps +together in the old days, with little shakes of the head, short leaps, +capers of joy tempered by humility, concluding by stretching his +beautiful white coat at full length at his mistress's feet, on the cold +floor of the waiting-room. Those humble caresses which sought her out, +like a hesitating offer of devotion and sympathy, caused the sobs she +had so long restrained to break forth as last. But suddenly she felt +ashamed of her weakness. She rose and sent the dog away, sent him +away pitilessly with voice and gesture, pointing to the house in the +distance, with a stern face which poor Kiss had never seen. Then she +hastily wiped her eyes and her moist hands; for the train for Paris +was approaching and she knew that in a moment she should need all her +courage. + +Claire's first thought on leaving the train was to take a cab and drive +to the jeweller in the Rue de la Paix, who had, as her grandfather +alleged, supplied Georges with a diamond necklace. If that should prove +to be true, then all the rest was true. Her dread of learning the truth +was so great that, when she reached her destination and alighted in +front of that magnificent establishment, she stopped, afraid to enter. +To give herself countenance, she pretended to be deeply interested in +the jewels displayed in velvet cases; and one who had seen her, quietly +but fashionably dressed, leaning forward to look at that gleaming and +attractive display, would have taken her for a happy wife engaged in +selecting a bracelet, rather than an anxious, sorrow-stricken soul who +had come thither to discover the secret of her life. + +It was three o'clock in the afternoon. At that time of day, in winter, +the Rue de la Paix presents a truly dazzling aspect. In that luxurious +neighborhood, life moves quickly between the short morning and the +early evening. There are carriages moving swiftly in all directions, a +ceaseless rumbling, and on the sidewalks a coquettish haste, a rustling +of silks and furs. Winter is the real Parisian season. To see that +devil's own Paris in all its beauty and wealth and happiness one must +watch the current of its life beneath a lowering sky, heavy with snow. +Nature is absent from the picture, so to speak. No wind, no sunlight. +Just enough light for the dullest colors, the faintest reflections to +produce an admirable effect, from the reddish-gray tone of the monuments +to the gleams of jet which bespangle a woman's dress. Theatre and +concert posters shine resplendent, as if illumined by the effulgence of +the footlights. The shops are crowded. It seems that all those people +must be preparing for perpetual festivities. And at such times, if +any sorrow is mingled with that bustle and tumult, it seems the more +terrible for that reason. For five minutes Claire suffered martyrdom +worse than death. Yonder, on the road to Savigny, in the vast expanse of +the deserted fields, her despair spread out as it were in the sharp air +and seemed to enfold her less closely. Here she was stifling. The voices +beside her, the footsteps, the heedless jostling of people who passed, +all added to her torture. + +At last she entered the shop. + +"Ah! yes, Madame, certainly--Monsieur Fromont. A necklace of diamonds +and roses. We could make you one like it for twenty-five thousand +francs." + +That was five thousand less than for him. + +"Thanks, Monsieur," said Claire, "I will think it over." + +A mirror in front of her, in which she saw her dark-ringed eyes and her +deathly pallor, frightened her. She went out quickly, walking stiffly in +order not to fall. + +She had but one idea, to escape from the street, from the noise; to be +alone, quite alone, so that she might plunge headlong into that abyss +of heartrending thoughts, of black things dancing madly in the depths of +her mind. Oh! the coward, the infamous villain! And to think that only +last night she was speaking comforting words to him, with her arms about +him! + +Suddenly, with no knowledge of how it happened, she found herself in +the courtyard of the factory. Through what streets had she come? Had +she come in a carriage or on foot? She had no remembrance. She had +acted unconsciously, as in a dream. The sentiment of reality returned, +pitiless and poignant, when she reached the steps of her little house. +Risler was there, superintending several men who were carrying potted +plants up to his wife's apartments, in preparation for the magnificent +party she was to give that very evening. With his usual tranquillity he +directed the work, protected the tall branches which the workmen might +have broken: "Not like that. Bend it over. Take care of the carpet." + +The atmosphere of pleasure and merry-making which had so revolted her a +moment before pursued her to her own house. It was too much, after all +the rest! She rebelled; and as Risler saluted her, affectionately and +with deep respect as always, her face assumed an expression of intense +disgust, and she passed without speaking to him, without seeing the +amazement that opened his great, honest eyes. + +From that moment her course was determined. Wrath, a wrath born of +uprightness and sense of justice, guided her actions. She barely took +time to kiss her child's rosy cheeks before running to her mother's +room. + +"Come, mamma, dress yourself quickly. We are going away. We are going +away." + +The old lady rose slowly from the armchair in which she was sitting, +busily engaged in cleaning her watch-chain by inserting a pin between +every two links with infinite care. + +"Come, come, hurry. Get your things ready." + +Her voice trembled, and the poor monomaniac's room seemed a horrible +place to her, all glistening as it was with the cleanliness that had +gradually become a mania. She had reached one of those fateful moments +when the loss of one illusion causes you to lose them all, enables +you to look to the very depths of human misery. The realization of her +complete isolation, between her half-mad mother, her faithless husband, +her too young child, came upon her for the first time; but it served +only to strengthen her in her resolution. + +In a moment the whole household was busily engaged in making +preparations for this abrupt, unexpected departure. Claire hurried the +bewildered servants, and dressed her mother and the child, who laughed +merrily amid all the excitement. She was in haste to go before Georges' +return, so that he might find the cradle empty and the house deserted. +Where should she go? She did not know as yet. Perhaps to her aunt at +Orleans, perhaps to Savigny, no matter where. What she must do first of +all was-go, fly from that atmosphere of treachery and falsehood. + +At that moment she was in her bedroom, packing a trunk, making a pile +of her effects--a heartrending occupation. Every object that she touched +set in motion whole worlds of thoughts, of memories. There is so much +of ourselves in anything that we use. At times the odor of a sachet-bag, +the pattern of a bit of lace, were enough to bring tears to her eyes. +Suddenly she heard a heavy footstep in the salon, the door of which was +partly open; then there was a slight cough, as if to let her know that +some one was there. She supposed that it was Risler: for no one else had +the right to enter her apartments so unceremoniously. The idea of having +to endure the presence of that hypocritical face, that false smile, was +so distasteful to her that she rushed to close the door. + +"I am not at home to any one." + +The door resisted her efforts, and Sigismond's square head appeared in +the opening. + +"It is I, Madame," he said in an undertone. "I have come to get the +money." + +"What money?" demanded Claire, for she no longer remembered why she had +gone to Savigny. + +"Hush! The funds to meet my note to-morrow. Monsieur Georges, when he +went out, told me that you would hand it to me very soon." + +"Ah! yes--true. The hundred thousand francs." + +"I haven't them, Monsieur Planus; I haven't anything." + +"Then," said the cashier, in a strange voice, as if he were speaking to +himself, "then it means failure." + +And he turned slowly away. + +Failure! She sank on a chair, appalled, crushed. For the last few hours +the downfall of her happiness had caused her to forget the downfall of +the house; but she remembered now. + +So her husband was ruined! In a little while, when he returned home, he +would learn of the disaster, and he would learn at the same time that +his wife and child had gone; that he was left alone in the midst of the +wreck. + +Alone--that weak, easily influenced creature, who could only weep and +complain and shake his fist at life like a child! What would become of +the miserable man? + +She pitied him, notwithstanding his great sin. + +Then the thought came to her that she would perhaps seem to have fled at +the approach of bankruptcy, of poverty. + +Georges might say to himself: + +"Had I been rich, she would have forgiven me!" + +Ought she to allow him to entertain that doubt? + +To a generous, noble heart like Claire's nothing more than that was +necessary to change her plans. Instantly she was conscious that her +feeling of repugnance, of revolt, began to grow less bitter, and a +sudden ray of light seemed to make her duty clearer to her. When they +came to tell her that the child was dressed and the trunks ready, her +mind was made up anew. + +"Never mind," she replied gently. "We are not going away." + + + + +BOOK 4. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI. THE DAY OF RECKONING + +The great clock of Saint-Gervais struck one in the morning. 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, re-tieing +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 EMPLOYEE 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 + Abundant details which he sometimes volunteered + Affectation of indifference + Always smiling condescendingly + Charm of that one day's rest and its solemnity + Clashing knives and forks mark time + Convent of Saint Joseph, four shoes under the bed! + Deeming every sort of occupation beneath him + Dreams of wealth and the disasters that immediately followed + Exaggerated dramatic pantomime + Faces taken by surprise allow their real thoughts to be seen + He fixed the time mentally when he would speak + Little feathers fluttering for an opportunity to fly away + Make for themselves a horizon of the neighboring walls and roofs + No one has ever been able to find out what her thoughts were + Pass half the day in procuring two cakes, worth three sous + She was of those who disdain no compliment + Such artificial enjoyment, such idiotic laughter + Superiority of the man who does nothing over the man who works + Terrible revenge she would take hereafter for her sufferings + The poor must pay for all their enjoyments + The groom isn't handsome, but the bride's as pretty as a picture + Void in her heart, a place made ready for disasters to come + Wiping his forehead ostentatiously + Word "sacrifice," so vague on careless lips + Would have liked him to be blind only so far as he was concerned + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Fromont and Risler, Complete, by Alphonse Daudet + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FROMONT AND RISLER, COMPLETE *** + +***** This file should be named 3980.txt or 3980.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/9/8/3980/ + +Produced by David Widger + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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