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+
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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #63791 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/63791)
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-The Project Gutenberg EBook of For a Night of Love, by Émile Zola
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
-most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
-whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
-of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
-www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you
-will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before
-using this ebook.
-
-Title: For a Night of Love
-
-Author: Émile Zola
-
-Release Date: November 18, 2020 [EBook #63791]
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: UTF-8
-
-Produced by: Laura Natal Rodrigues at Free Literature (Images generously
-             made available by Hathi Trust.)
-
-*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FOR A NIGHT OF LOVE ***
-
-FOR A
-
-NIGHT OF LOVE
-
-By
-
-EMILE ZOLA
-
-THE WARREN PRESS
-New York
-
-
-
-
-Copyright 1911, by
-The Warren Press
-
-
-
-
-FOR A NIGHT OF LOVE
-
-
-
-
-I
-
-
-The little town of P.... is built on a hill. At the foot of the old
-ramparts runs a deep brook, the Chanteclair, doubtless so named from the
-crystalline sound of its limpid waters. When one arrives by the
-Versailles road, one crosses the Chanteclair at the south gate of the
-city, over a stone bridge with a single arch, of which the broad
-parapets, low and rounded, serve as benches for all the old people of
-the suburbs. Opposite, rises Beau-Soleil Street, at the end of which is
-a silent square, Quatre-Femmes, paved with huge cobbles and invaded by a
-thickset weed which makes it green as a meadow. The houses sleep. Every
-half hour, the dragging step of a passer-by starts a dog barking behind
-a stable-door, and the one excitement in the square is the regular
-appearance, twice a day, of officers who go to their table d'hôte in
-Beau-Soleil Street.
-
-In the house of a gardener, to the left, lived Julien Michon. The
-gardener had rented him a large room, on the first floor; and, as the
-landlord occupied the other side of the house, facing his garden, Julien
-was left to himself. Having his own private entrance and stairway, he
-already lived, although only twenty-five years of age, like a retired
-bourgeois of small means.
-
-The young man had lost his father and his mother while very young. An
-uncle had sent the child to a boarding-school. Then, the uncle died, and
-Julien had been filling a position as clerk in the post-office for the
-past five years. His salary was fifteen hundred francs, without any hope
-of ever getting more. But he could economize on that, and he did not
-imagine a larger or a happier life than his.
-
-Tall, strong, bony, Julien had large hands that seemed in his way.
-
-He felt himself to be ugly, with his square head left in a sketchy state
-as if roughly modeled by an indifferent sculptor. And that made him
-timid, especially in the presence of young women. His awkwardness
-engendered a startled attitude of mind, and a morbid desire for
-mediocrity and seclusion. He seemed resigned to grow old thus, without a
-comrade, without a love affair, with his tastes of a cloistered monk.
-
-And that life did not weigh heavily upon his broad shoulders. Julien was
-very happy. He had a calm, transparent soul. His daily existence, with
-its fixed rules, was serenity itself. In the morning, he went to his
-office, peacefully took up the work left off the preceding day; then
-lunched on a small loaf, and continued his work. Afterwards, he dined,
-he went to bed and slept. The next day, the sun brought with it the same
-routine.
-
-On holidays, he would go off on a tramp all alone, happily reeling off
-the miles, and returning broken with fatigue.
-
-He had never been seen in the company of a petticoat, in the evenings on
-the ramparts. The working girls of P...., sharp-tongued wantons, had
-ended by leaving him alone, after seeing him, on several occasions,
-stand before them almost suffocated from embarrassment, and taking their
-laughs of encouragement for mockery.
-
-Julien's paradise, the one place where he breathed freely, was his room.
-There only, he felt sheltered from the world. There, he straightened up;
-he laughed to himself; and, when he caught sight of himself in the
-mirror, he was surprised to find himself so young.
-
-His room was vast. He had furnished it with a large canopy bed, a round
-table, two chairs and an armchair. But there still remained plenty of
-room for walking about. The bed was lost in the depths of an immense
-alcove; a small chest of drawers, between the two windows, looked like a
-child's plaything. He walked about, stretched himself, and never seemed
-bored. He never wrote away from the bureau, and reading tired him. His
-only passion was music. He would spend entire evenings playing the
-flute. That was, above everything, his greatest recreation.
-
-Julien had learned by himself to play the flute. For a long time, an old
-yellow flute at a bric-à-brac merchant's on the market square had
-aroused his covetousness. He had the money, but he did not dare enter
-and buy it, for fear of exciting ridicule. At last, one evening, he grew
-bold enough to get the flute and carry it away on the run, hidden under
-his coat. Then, doors and windows closed, he had studied for two years
-out of an old method that he had picked up at a bookseller's.
-
-During the last six months only, he risked playing with the windows
-open. He knew nothing but ancient airs, slow and simple, romances of the
-last century, which acquired an infinite tenderness as he stumbled over
-them with the awkwardness of a pupil filled with emotion. In the warm
-evenings, when the quarter was asleep, and this light song floated from
-the large room lighted by a single candle it seemed like a voice of love
-confiding to the solitude of the night what it never would have uttered
-in broad daylight.
-
-Julien feared that they might complain of him in the neighborhood, but
-they sleep soundly in the country towns. Besides, Quatre-Femmes Square
-was inhabited only by a notary, M. Savournin, and a retired gendarme,
-Captain Pidoux, very convenient neighbors who went to bed and to sleep
-at nine o'clock. Julien was more anxious in regard to the inmates of a
-noble mansion, the Marsanne residence, which reared itself on the other
-side of the square, directly in front of his windows. It had a sad, gray
-facade, of the severity of a monastery. A flight of five steps, invaded
-by weeds, led up to a round door that was studded with enormous nails.
-The only story had ten windows in a row, the shutters of which were
-opened and closed always at the same hours, without allowing a view of
-the rooms behind their heavy drawn curtains. To the left, the large
-chestnut trees of the garden made a green mass that spread in a widening
-wave to the ramparts.
-
-Throughout the countryside, the mansion was celebrated, and it was said
-that strangers came long distances to visit it. There were also legends
-afloat concerning the wealth of the Marsannes. But Julien, during all
-the hours that he had sat at his windows seeking to penetrate the
-mysteries of that enormous fortune, had never seen anything but the gray
-facade and the dark mass of the chestnut trees. Never had anyone mounted
-the steps, never had the moss-grown door opened. The Marsannes had
-ceased to use that door; they went in and out through an iron gate on
-Saint-Anne Street. There was, besides, at the end of a lane near the
-ramparts, a little gate opening into the garden, that Julien could not
-see. For him, the house remained dead, like a palace in a fairy story
-peopled by invisible inhabitants.
-
-One Sunday, in the square before the church, one of the post-office
-employees pointed out to Julien a tall old man and an old lady, telling
-him that they were the Marquis and Marquise de Marsanne. Then his
-companion informed him that they had a daughter still in the convent,
-Mademoiselle Therese de Marsanne; and that little Colombel, M.
-Savournin's clerk, was her foster-brother. As the old couple were about
-to turn into Saint-Anne Street, little Colombel approached, and the
-marquis held out his hand,--an honor he had not accorded anyone else.
-Julien suffered from that handshake; for this Colombel, a youth of
-twenty years, with sharp eyes and a mean mouth, had long been his enemy.
-He made fun of Julien's timidity; he had stirred up the laundry-girls of
-Beau-Soleil Street against him; and one evening, the two youths had come
-to blows on the ramparts, with the result that the notary's clerk
-retired with two black eyes.
-
-Julien had lived five years on Quatre-Femmes Square when, one July
-evening, an event upset his existence. The night was very warm. He was
-playing his flute without a light, but absent-mindedly, when, all of a
-sudden, opposite him, a window in the Marsanne mansion opened, showing a
-brilliant light in the somber facade. A young girl leaned upon the
-window-railing and she raised her head as if listening. Julien,
-trembling, had stopped playing. He could not distinguish the face of the
-young girl, he could only see the waving mass of her loosened hair. And
-a light voice reached him in the midst of the silence.
-
-"Didst thou not hear, Françoise? It sounded like music."
-
-"A nightingale, miss," answered a coarse voice from the room. "Close the
-blinds; look out for night-insects."
-
-When the facade had grown dark again, Julien could not leave his
-armchair. An hour later, he began to play again very softly. He smiled
-at the thought that the young girl probably imagined that there was a
-nightingale in the chestnut trees.
-
-
-
-
-II
-
-
-The next day, at the post-office, the great news was that Mademoiselle
-Therese de Marsanne had left the convent. Julien did not relate that he
-had seen her, with bare throat, and loosened hair. He entertained an
-indefinable sentiment toward that young lady who was to derange his
-habits. How could he henceforth play his flute? He played too badly to
-be heard by a young lady who evidently knew music.
-
-Julien returned home furtively that evening. He did not light a candle.
-The window opposite did not open, but, towards ten o'clock a pale light
-shone through the blades of the blinds. Then, the light was
-extinguished, and he was left contemplating the dark window. Every
-evening, in spite of himself, he began that spying. Nothing seemed
-changed in the house; the old mansion slept on as before. It required
-trained eyes and ears to detect the new life. Sometimes, a light ran
-behind the windows, a corner of a curtain was lifted, there was a
-glimpse of an immense room. At other times, a light step crossed the
-garden, the sound of a piano was faintly heard accompanying a voice.
-Julien explained his curiosity by pretending to be annoyed at the
-noises. How he regretted the time when the empty house sent back a soft
-echo of his flute!
-
-One of his most ardent wishes, though he would not admit it, was to see
-Therese again. He imagined her with pink cheeks, a mocking air, and
-shining eyes. But, as he did not dare approach his window in the
-daytime, he saw her only at night, enveloped by a gray shadow. One
-morning, as he was about to close one of his shutters to keep out the
-sun, he saw Therese standing in the middle of her room. She seemed to be
-reflecting. She was tall, very pale, with beautiful, regular features.
-He was almost afraid of her,--she was so different from the gay image he
-had formed of her. She had a rather large mouth, of a vivid red, and
-deep-set eyes, black and without a sparkle, giving her the air of a
-cruel queen. She came slowly toward the window; but she did not appear
-to see Julien. She went away again, and the rhythmic movement of her
-neck had so strong a grace that he felt as weak as a child beside her,
-in spite of his broad shoulders.
-
-Then began a miserable existence for the young man. That beautiful young
-woman, so serious and noble, living so near him, made him despair. She
-never looked at him; she ignored his existence. After a month had
-passed, he suffered from the disdain of the young girl. She came to the
-window, looked out on the deserted pavement, and retired without
-divining his proximity, as he watched, anxious, on the other side of the
-square.
-
-On warm evenings, he began playing again. He left his shutters open, and
-played, in the obscurity, those airs of bygone days, naive as the
-roundels of little girls. He chose moonless nights; the square was dark;
-no one knew whence came that song so sweet, brushing the sleeping houses
-with the soft wing of a nocturnal bird. And, the first evening, he had
-the emotion of seeing Therese approach the window, all in white
-negligee. She leaned on her elbows, surprised to hear again the music
-that greeted her the evening of her arrival.
-
-"Listen, Françoise," she said, in her serious voice, turning towards the
-room. "It is not a bird."
-
-"Oh!" answered the old woman, of whom Julien could see only the shadow,
-"it is some comedian amusing himself, a long distance from here."
-
-"Yes, a long distance," repeated the young girl, after a silence.
-
-From then on, Julien played louder every evening. His fever passed into
-the old flute of yellow wood. And Therese, who listened, was astonished
-at that music, the vibrant phrases of which, flitting from roof to roof,
-awaited the night to make their way to her. One night, the song burst
-forth so near that she surmised that it came from one of the old houses
-in the square. Julien breathed into the flute all his passion; the
-instrument vibrated like crystal. The darkness lent him such audacity
-that he hoped to draw her to him by the force of his song. And,
-effectually, Therese bent forward, as if attracted and conquered.
-
-"Come in," said the voice of the aged lady. "The night is stormy; you
-will have nightmare."
-
-That night, Julien could not sleep. He imagined that Therese had guessed
-him to be the musician, had seen him perhaps. Yet, he decided that he
-would not show himself. He was in front of his window, at six o'clock
-the next morning, putting his flute into its case, when the blinds of
-Therese's window were suddenly thrown open.
-
-The young girl, who never arose before eight o'clock, leaned upon the
-railing. Julien did not move; he looked her in the face, unable to turn
-away. Therese, in her turn, examined him with a steady and haughty
-regard. She seemed to study him in his large bones, in his enormous and
-badly formed body, in all the ugliness of this timid giant. When she had
-judged him, with the tranquil air with which she would have asked
-herself whether a dog in the street pleased her or not, she condemned
-him with a slight pout. Then turning her back, she closed the window
-with deliberation.
-
-Julien, his legs giving way under him, fell into his armchair.
-
-"Ah! mon Dieu!" he exclaimed, brokenly. "I am displeasing to her! And I
-love her, and I shall die!"
-
-He bowed his head upon his hands and sobbed. Why had he shown himself?
-When one was so ugly, he should hide himself and not shock young girls.
-He cursed himself, furious with his looks. He should have remained for
-her a sweet music,--nothing but ancient airs descriptive of a mysterious
-love.
-
-In effect, he vainly breathed forth the liquid tender melodies: Therese
-no longer listened. She came and went in her room, leaned out of the
-window, as if he had not been opposite, declaring his love in humble
-little notes. One day, even, she exclaimed: "Mon Dieu! How annoying that
-flute is, with its false notes!"
-
-So, in despair, he threw the flute into a drawer, and played no more.
-
-Little Colombel, too, scoffed at Julien. One day, on his way to the
-office, he had seen Julien at his window practising, and, each time that
-he passed, he laughed his mean little laugh. Julien knew that the
-notary's clerk was received at the Marsanne's, and it broke his
-heart,--not that he was jealous of that shrimp, but because he would
-have given his life to be for one hour in his place.
-
-Françoise, the mother of the young man, had been for years one of the
-Marsanne household, and now she took care of Therese. Long ago, the
-aristocratic young lady and the little peasant had grown up together,
-and it seemed natural that they should preserve some of their former
-comradeship. Julien suffered none the less when he met Colombel in the
-streets with his lips puckered into a thin smile. His repulsion
-increased when he realized that the shrimp was not bad looking. He had a
-round cat-like head, but very delicate, pretty, and diabolical, with
-green eyes and a light curly beard on his soft chin.
-
-Julien did not relinquish his dream of love without a great struggle. He
-remained hidden for several weeks, ashamed of his ugliness. Then, he was
-shaken by rage. He felt the need to display his large limbs, to force on
-her sight his rough face, burning with fever. So, he remained for weeks
-at his window, he wearied her with his regard. Even, on two occasions,
-he had sent her ardent kisses, with the brutality shown by timid people
-when they are prompted to audacity. Therese exhibited no anger. When he
-was concealed from her view he saw her going about with her royal air;
-and, when he thrust himself upon her, she preserved that air and was
-even colder and haughtier.
-
-During that first year, the days followed each other without a break.
-When the summer came around again, he experienced a peculiar sensation:
-Therese seemed to have acquired a different manner. The same little
-events took place,--the shutters were opened in the morning and closed
-at night, there were the same appearances at the accustomed hours; but a
-new breath seemed to emanate from her room. Therese was paler and
-taller. On a very feverish day, he dared for the third time to send her
-a kiss. She looked at him intently, with her disquieting seriousness. It
-was he who retired from the window, his face crimson.
-
-A single occurrence, toward the end of the summer, upset him, although
-it was very simple. Nearly every day, at twilight, the casement opposite
-was closed violently. The noise made him shudder, without his knowing
-why. For a long time, he could not distinguish whose hand closed the
-window; but, one evening, he recognized the pale hands of Therese. It
-was she who turned the fastening with that furious movement. And when,
-an hour later, she reopened the window,--but without haste, rather with
-a dignified slowness,--she seemed weary.
-
-One autumn evening, gray and soft, there was a terrible grinding of the
-window fastening. Julien shuddered and tears sprang to his eyes. He
-waited for the window to open again. It was thrown wide as violently as
-it had been closed. Therese appeared. She was very white, with distended
-eyes and hair falling over her shoulders. She put her ten fingers upon
-her lips and sent a kiss to Julien.
-
-Distracted, he pressed his fists against his chest and asked if that
-kiss was for him. Then, Therese, thinking that he had shrunk back,
-leaned forward and sent him a second kiss. She followed it with a third.
-He stood rooted, thunderstruck. When she considered that he was
-vanquished, she glanced over the little square. Then, in a muffled
-voice, she said simply,--
-
-"Come!"
-
-He went down and approached the mansion. As he raised his head, the door
-at the top of the steps opened slightly,--that rusty door that was
-almost sealed with moss. But he walked in a stupor,--nothing astonished
-him. As soon as he entered, the door closed, and a small icy hand led
-him upstairs. He went along a corridor, passed through a room, and, at
-last, found himself in a room that he knew. It was the dreamed-of
-paradise, the room with the rose silk curtains. He was tempted to sink
-to his knees. Therese stood before him very erect, her hands tightly
-clasped, and resolutely holding under control the tremor that had
-possession of her.
-
-"You love me?" she asked in a low voice.
-
-"Oh! yes, yes!" he stammered.
-
-She made a gesture, as if to forestall any useless words. She continued,
-with a haughty manner that seemed to render her words natural and
-chaste.
-
-"If I gave myself to you, you would do anything for me,--wouldn't you?"
-
-He could not answer,--he clasped his hands. For a kiss from her, he
-would sell himself.
-
-"Well! I have a service to exact of you. We must swear to keep the
-bargain. I swear to carry out my part of it. Now, swear, swear!"
-
-"Oh! I swear,--anything you wish!" he cried, in absolute abandonment.
-
-The pure odor of her room intoxicated him. The curtains of the alcove
-were drawn, and the thought of that virgin bed in the softened shadow of
-the rose silk, filled him with a religious ecstasy.
-
-Then, with a brutal movement, she tore the curtains apart, revealing the
-alcove, into which the faint evening light penetrated. The bed was in
-disorder. The coverings trailed over the sides, a pillow on the floor
-was ripped open as if by teeth. And, in the midst of the rumpled laces,
-lay the body of a man, thrown across the bed.
-
-"There!" she explained in a strangled voice. "That man was my lover. I
-pushed him and he fell. I know no more. Well, he is dead; and you must
-carry him away! You understand? That is all,--yes, that is all! There!"
-
-
-
-
-III
-
-
-When very small, Therese de Marsanne made Colombel her fag and butt. He
-was her elder by about six months, and Françoise, his mother, had
-weaned him in order to nurse Therese.
-
-Therese was a terrible child. Not that she was a noisy tomboy. On the
-contrary, she had a singular seriousness that made her appear as a well
-bred child before visitors, for whom she made graceful curtseys. But she
-had very strange ways; she would burst into inarticulate cries, stamping
-madly about, when she was alone.
-
-No one ever knew her thoughts. Even as a child, instead of her eyes
-being clear mirrors revealing her soul, they were like dark cavities, of
-an inky blackness, in which it was impossible to read.
-
-At six years of age, she began to torture Colombel. He was small and
-delicate. She would take him to the bottom of the garden, under the
-chestnut trees, and, jumping on his back would make him carry her. He
-was the horse, she was the lady. When, dizzy, he seemed ready to fall,
-she would bite his ear, clinging to him with such fury that she would
-sink her nails into his flesh.
-
-Later, in the presence of her parents, she would pinch him and forbid
-his crying out under pain of being thrown out into the street. They thus
-had a sort of secret existence, their attitude when alone together
-changing in company. When they were alone, she treated him like a
-plaything, with a desire to break him. And as she wearied of reigning
-over him only when they were alone, she added the pleasure of giving him
-a kick or pricking him with a pin while in company at the same time
-fixing him with her somber eyes and daring him to so much as twitch.
-
-Colombel bore that martyr's existence with dumb revolts that left him
-trembling, his eyes lowered, with a desire to strangle his young
-mistress. But, he was of a sly and vindictive nature. It did not
-altogether displease him to be beaten; he immediately gloated in his
-rancor. He would avenge himself by falling on the stones, dragging
-Therese with him, so that he would escape injury and she would be
-scratched and bruised. If he did not cry out when she pinched or pricked
-him, it was because he wished no one to interfere between them. It was
-their own affair,--a quarrel from which he intended to issue the
-conqueror later on.
-
-Meanwhile, the marquis was worried about the violent conduct of his
-daughter. He considered it his duty to submit her to a rigid education.
-So, he placed her in a convent, hoping that the discipline would soften
-her nature. She remained there until her eighteenth year.
-
-When Therese returned home, she was very well-behaved and very tall. Her
-parents were pleased to note in her a profound piety. The marquis and
-the marquise, secluded for fifteen years in the big house, prepared to
-open the drawing-room again. They gave several dinners to the nobility
-of the neighborhood; they had dancing. Their design was to marry
-Therese. And, in spite of her coldness, she made herself very agreeable.
-She adorned herself and she waltzed, but always with a face so pale that
-the young men who thought of falling in love with her were uneasy.
-
-Therese had never mentioned little Colombel. The marquis had taken an
-interest in him, and, after giving him a schooling, had placed him in M.
-Savournin's office. One day, Françoise led her son up to Therese and
-presented to the young girl her comrade of former days. Colombel was
-smiling, very clean, and without a sign of embarrassment. Therese looked
-at him calmly, said she remembered him, and turned her back.
-
-But, a week later, Colombel returned; and he had soon resumed his former
-habits. He came every evening to the house, bringing music and books. He
-was treated as of no consequence,--he was sent on errands like a servant
-or a poor relation. So they left him alone with the young girl, without
-thinking of harm. As in the old days, the two shut themselves up in the
-vast rooms, or remained for hours in the shade of the garden. In verity,
-they no longer played the same games. Therese walked slowly, with her
-skirt brushing the grass. Colombel, dressed like the rich young men of
-the town, accompanied her, whipping the path with a supple cane that he
-invariably carried.
-
-Yet, she was again the queen and he the slave. She tortured him with her
-fantastic humors, affectionate one moment and hard the next. He, when
-she turned her head, swept her with a glittering glance, sharp as a
-sword, and his whole vicious figure stretched and watched, dreaming a
-treachery.
-
-One summer evening, they had strolled in the heavy shadow of the
-chestnut trees for some time in silence, when Therese suddenly remarked:
-
-"I am tired, Colombel. Suppose you carry me as you used to."
-
-He laughed lightly; then answered seriously:
-
-"I am willing, Therese."
-
-Without another word, Therese sprang upon his back with her old agility.
-
-"Now go!" she cried.
-
-She had snatched his cane and she lashed his legs with it, forcing him
-into a gallop beneath the thick foliage. He had not said a word; he
-breathed hard and tried to stiffen his slender legs, as the warm weight
-of the big girl bore him down.
-
-But, when she cried out "Enough!" he did not stop. He ran all the
-faster, as if carried on by the impetus of the start. In spite of
-lashings and the digging in of her nails, he made for a shed in which
-the gardener kept his tools. There, he threw her roughly upon a heap of
-straw, and, his vindictiveness lending strength to his puny body, he
-vanquished her. At last, it was his turn to be master!
-
-Therese became even paler, while her eyes grew blacker than ever and her
-mouth a more vivid crimson. She continued her devotional life.
-
-Several days after the first occurrence, Therese, still panting with the
-desire to subjugate little Colombel, again leaped upon his back and
-lashed him. But the scene had the same ending. Again, she was thrown
-upon the straw and wronged.
-
-Before the world, she maintained a sisterly attitude toward him. He,
-also, was of a smiling tranquility. They were again, as at six years of
-age, a couple of unruly animals, amusing themselves in secret by biting
-each other. Only, to-day, the male was victorious.
-
-Therese received Colombel in her room. She had given him a key to the
-little gate that opened on the lane at the ramparts. At night, he was
-obliged to pass through the first room, in which his mother slept. But
-the lovers showed such calm audacity that they were never surprised.
-They dared make appointments in the daytime. Colombel came before
-dinner, and Therese, expecting him, would close the window to escape the
-neighbors' eyes.
-
-They felt the constant need to see each other,--not to exchange tender
-expressions of love, but to continue the combat for supremacy. Often,
-they would quarrel fiercely, in low voices, all the more shaken by anger
-as they dared not scream or fight.
-
-One evening, Colombel arrived before dinner. As he was walking across
-the room, still with bare feet and in his shirt-sleeves, he suddenly
-seized Therese and tried to lift her up, as he had seen strong men do at
-the fairs. Therese tried to break away, saying:
-
-"Leave me alone. You know I am stronger than you. I will hurt you."
-
-Colombel laughed his little laugh.
-
-"Well! Hurt me!" he murmured.
-
-He shook her as a preliminary to throwing her down. She closed her arms
-about him. They often played this game. It was usually Colombel who went
-down on the carpet, breathless, with inert limbs. But, this day, Therese
-slipped to her knees, and Colombel, with a sudden thrust, threw her over
-backward. He triumphed.
-
-"So, you see you are not the stronger," he said with an insulting laugh.
-
-She was livid. She raised herself slowly, and dumb, she grasped him
-again, her whole form so shaken by anger that he shivered. For a minute,
-they struggled in silence; then, with a last and terrible effort, she
-threw him backward. He struck his temple against a corner of a chest and
-felt heavily to the floor.
-
-Therese drew a deep breath. She gathered up her hair before the mirror,
-she smoothed out her petticoat, affecting to pay no attention to the
-conquered Colombel. He could pick himself up. Then, she touched him with
-her foot. She saw that his face was of the color of wax, his eyes
-glassy, and his mouth twisted. On his right temple there was a hole.
-Colombel was dead.
-
-She straightened up, chilled with horror. She spoke aloud in the
-silence.
-
-"Dead! Here he is dead now!"
-
-A terror held her rigid above the corpse. She heard his mother passing
-along the corridor! Other noises arose,--steps, voices, preparations for
-an evening's entertainment. They might call her, come to look for her at
-any moment. And here was this dead body of her lover, whom she had
-killed and who had fallen back upon her shoulders, with the crushing
-weight of their sin.
-
-Then, crazed by the clamor in her brain, she began walking back and
-forth. She sought a hole into which to cast this body that was
-threatening her future. She looked under all the furniture, in the
-corners, trembling with an enraged realization of her impotence. No,
-there was no hole, the alcove was not deep enough, the wardrobes were
-too narrow, the whole room refused its aid. And it was in this room that
-they had hidden their kisses. He used to enter with his light, cat-like
-step, and went away as softly. Never should she have imagined that he
-could become so heavy.
-
-She still roved about the room like a trapped animal. Suddenly, she had
-an inspiration. Suppose she should throw the body out of the window? But
-it would be found, and it would be easy to guess where it had come from.
-
-Meanwhile, she had raised the curtain to look out into the street; and
-there, opposite, was the imbecile who played the flute, leaning out of
-his window with his tame-dog expression. She well knew his sallow face,
-unceasingly turned toward her and wearying her with its avowal of timid
-tenderness. The sight of Julien, so humble and so loving, stopped her
-short. A smile flitted across her pale face. Here was her salvation! The
-imbecile opposite loved her with the devotion of a dog who would obey
-her even to the commission of a crime. Besides she would reward him with
-all her heart, with all her body. She had not loved him because he was
-too gentle; but she would love him, she would buy him with the gift of
-her body, if he would help her conceal her crime.
-
-Then, quickly, she took up the body of Colombel as if it were a bundle
-of linen, and threw it on the bed. Immediately opening the window, she
-threw kisses to Julien.
-
-
-
-
-IV
-
-
-Julien walked as in a nightmare. When he recognized Colombel on the bed,
-he was not astonished,--it seemed quite natural. Yes, no one but
-Colombel could be in that alcove, his temple indented, his limbs spread
-out in an attitude of revolting lewdness.
-
-Meanwhile, Therese was speaking to him. He did not hear at first; the
-words flowed through his stupor with a confused sound. Then, he
-understood that she was giving him orders, and he listened. Now, he must
-not leave the room; he must remain until midnight,--until the house grew
-dark and quiet. The party that the marquis was giving would prevent
-their doing anything sooner. But, in a way, it acted in their favor, for
-it so occupied everybody's attention that no one would think of coming
-up to the young girl's room. At the proper time, Julien was to take the
-body on his back, carry it down and throw it into the Chanteclair, at
-the bottom of Beau-Soleil Street Therese explained the whole plan.
-
-She ceased talking, and, placing her hands on the young man's shoulders,
-she asked:--
-
-"You understand,--is it agreed?"
-
-He shuddered.
-
-"Yes, yes; everything you wish. I am yours."
-
-Then, very serious, she leaned forward. As he did not understand, she
-said:--
-
-"Kiss me."
-
-He kissed her on her icy brow. And then they became silent.
-
-Therese had again drawn the curtains of the bed. She sank into an
-armchair, where she rested, lost in the darkness. Julien also sat down.
-Françoise was no longer in the next room; the house sent them only
-muffled sounds. The room seemed to be asleep, and gradually filling with
-shadows. For nearly an hour, neither moved. Julien felt within his head
-great throbs, like blows, which prevented his reasoning. He was with
-Therese, and that filled him with happiness. But when the thought
-flashed on him that there was the corpse of a man in that alcove, he
-felt as if he would swoon. Was it possible that she had loved that
-shrimp? He excused her for having killed him. What fired his blood was
-the bare feet of that man in the midst of the rumpled laces. With what
-joy he would throw him into the Chanteclair, at the end of the bridge,
-at a dark and deep spot that he knew well! They would both be well quit
-of him; they could then belong to each other. At the thought of that
-happiness that he had not dared dream of in the morning, he saw himself
-on the bed in the very place where the corpse now lay; and the place was
-cold and he felt a terrified repugnance.
-
-The clock struck, in the midst of the great silence. Therese got up
-slowly and lighted the candles on her dressing-table. She appeared
-possessed of her accustomed calm, coming and going with the quiet step
-of a person who busies herself in the intimacy of her room. She seemed
-to have forgotten the sprawling body behind the rose silk hangings. As
-she uncoiled her hair, she said, without even turning her head:--
-
-"I am going to dress for the party. If anyone comes, hide yourself in
-the end of the alcove."
-
-He remained seated; he watched her. She already treated him like a
-lover. With raised arms, she dressed her hair. He watched her with a
-thrill, so desirable she appeared with her back uncovered, lazily moving
-her delicate elbows and her tapering hands. Was she displaying her
-seductions, showing him the lover he was to possess, in order to make
-him brave?
-
-She had just put on her slippers, when a step was heard in the corridor.
-
-"Hide in the alcove," she said, in a low voice.
-
-And, with a quick movement, she threw upon the stiffened body of
-Colombel all the linen that she had taken off,--a linen still warm with
-the perfume of her body.
-
-It was Françoise who entered, saying,--
-
-"They are waiting for you, Mademoiselle."
-
-"I am coming, my good woman," peacefully answered Therese. "You can help
-me put on my dress."
-
-Julien, through a slit in the curtain, could see them both, and he
-trembled at the audacity of the young girl. His teeth chattered so
-loudly that he grasped his jaw and held it in his hand. Beside him,
-under a chemise, he saw one of the icy feet of Colombel. If Françoise,
-the mother, should draw the curtain and strike against the bare foot of
-her child!
-
-"Be careful," said Therese. "You are pulling off the flowers."
-
-Her voice betrayed no emotion. She smiled like a girl pleased to go to a
-ball. The dress was of white silk, trimmed with sweet briar,--white
-flowers, with the hearts touched with red. And when she stood in the
-middle of the room, she was like a large bouquet of virginal whiteness.
-Her bare arms and her bare neck continued the whiteness of the silk.
-
-"Oh! how beautiful you are! How beautiful you are!" repeated the old
-Françoise. "And your garland,--wait!"
-
-She searched for it, and was about to put her hand on the curtains to
-look on the bed. Julien almost let out a cry of anguish. But Therese,
-without haste, always smiling before the mirror, said:--
-
-"It is there, on the chest. Give it to me. And don't touch my bed. I put
-some things on it, and you would mix them all up."
-
-Françoise helped her to arrange the branch of sweet briar like a crown,
-with its flexible end drooping to the back of her neck. Françoise stood
-admiring her. She was ready and putting on her gloves.
-
-"Ah! well," cried Françoise, "there are no holy Virgins in the church
-as white as you."
-
-This compliment caused the young girl to smile again. She gave a last
-glance into the mirror, and started for the door, saying,--
-
-"Come along; let us go down. You can put out the candles."
-
-In the sudden darkness, Julien heard the door close and Therese's gown
-rustle along the corridor. The deep night was a veil before his eyes,
-but he preserved the sensation of that bare foot near him. He remained
-there, unconscious of the lapse of time, weighed down by thoughts heavy
-as sleep, when the door opened. By the rustle of silk, he knew it was
-Therese. She did not come in; she simply put something on the chest of
-drawers, while she murmured:--
-
-"Here; you have not dined. You must eat, you understand."
-
-The gown rustled away again. Julien shook himself and got up. He
-suffocated in the alcove; he could no longer remain near that bed,
-beside Colombel. The clock struck eight,--he had four hours to wait! He
-walked about muffling his footsteps. A feeble light, from the starlit
-night, made it possible to distinguish the dark masses of furniture.
-
-Three times, he thought he heard a sigh issue from the alcove. He
-stopped, terrified. Then, when he listened intently, he found it was
-sounds from the festivities below,--dance music, the laughing murmur of
-a crowd. He closed his eyes; and, suddenly, instead of the blackness of
-the room, he saw brilliant lights, a flaming drawing-room, in which was
-Therese, in her white silk, waltzing to an amorous air. The whole house
-vibrated to joyous music. He was alone, in this horrible corner, shaking
-with fear!
-
-Ten o'clock struck. He listened. It seemed as if he had been there
-years. Then, he waited bewildered. Having found bread and fruit under
-his hand, he ate avidly, with a gnawing of the stomach that he could not
-assuage. When he had eaten, he was overcome by lassitude. The night
-seemed never-ending. The distant music grew clearer; the dancing at
-times shook the floor. Carriages began to rumble.
-
-He was looking fixedly at the door, when he saw a light through the
-keyhole. He did not hide. So much the worse, if anyone came in.
-
-"No; thank you, Françoise," said Therese, appearing with a candle, "I
-can undress quite well alone. Go to bed,--you must be tired."
-
-She closed the door and slipped the bolt. Then, she stood for a moment
-motionless, with her finger on her lip. The dance had not brought color
-to her cheeks. She did not speak. She set down the candle, and sat down
-opposite Julien. During a half hour, they waited, looking at each other.
-
-The doors had banged; the mansion had gone to sleep. But what worried
-Therese was the proximity of Françoise. Françoise walked about a few
-minutes, then her bed creaked. For some time, she turned from side to
-side, as if unable to sleep. At last, her strong and regular breathing
-was heard through the wall.
-
-Therese looked at Julien gravely. She said only one word,--"Come."
-
-They drew aside the curtains. They wished to clothe the corpse which
-already had the rigidity of a lugubrious puppet. When that task was
-finished, their brows were moist.
-
-"Come," she said a second time.
-
-Without hesitation, Julien took up the body and threw it across his
-shoulders, as butchers carry calves.
-
-"I will go before you," murmured Therese rapidly, "I will hold your
-coat,--you have only to follow. And walk softly."
-
-They had first to pass through Françoise's room. They had crossed it,
-when one of the feet of the corpse struck against a chair. At the sound,
-Françoise awoke. They heard her raise her head, mumbling to herself.
-They remained motionless,--she, pressed against the door; he, crushed
-under the weight of the body, with the horrible fear that the mother
-might surprise them carrying her son to the river. It was a moment of
-anguish. Then, Françoise went to sleep again, and they stealthily
-reached the corridor.
-
-But, here, another fright awaited them. The marquise had not gone to
-bed,--a streak of light came through the partly opened door. So, they
-dared neither go forward, nor retreat. For a quarter of an hour, they
-did not move, and Therese had the astounding courage to support the body
-so that Julien should not get tired. At last, the streak of light was
-obliterated. They could go on to the ground floor. They were saved.
-
-It was Therese who again opened the ancient door. And when Julien found
-himself in the middle of Quatre-Femmes Square with his burden, he saw
-her standing on the flight of steps, in her white ball gown. She was
-waiting for him.
-
-
-
-
-V
-
-
-Julien had the strength of a bull. When very young, in the forest near
-his native village, he amused himself helping the woodcutters, carrying
-tree trunks on his young shoulders. So, he carried little Colombel as
-easily as a feather. It was a bird on his back, that corpse of a shrimp.
-He hardly felt it,--he experienced an unholy joy in finding it so light,
-so thin, so absolutely nothing. Little Colombel would never sneer at him
-again, passing under his windows while he played the flute. He would
-never again humiliate him with his witticisms in the town. With a
-movement of the shoulder, he hoisted the body higher up, and, with set
-teeth, hastened his steps.
-
-The town was dark. Yet, there was light in Quatre-Femmes Square, in
-Captain Pidoux's window. Doubtless, the captain was not feeling well;
-his large profile could be seen passing back and forth behind the
-curtains. Julien, anxious, slunk in the shadow of the houses. Suddenly,
-a slight cough froze him. He hid in a doorway. He recognized the wife of
-M. Savournin taking the air at her window. It seemed like fatality.
-Ordinarily, at that hour, Quatre-Femmes Square slept soundly.
-Fortunately, Madame Savournin soon returned to the side of M. Savournin,
-whose snores could be heard on the pavement.
-
-Julien quickly crossed the square and breathed more freely in the
-narrowness of Beau-Soleil Street. There, the houses were so near
-together that the light of the stars did not penetrate the shadowy
-depths. As soon as he found himself thus sheltered, an irresistible
-desire to run sent him forward in a furious gallop. It was dangerous and
-stupid,--he knew it; but he still felt behind him the clear and empty
-space of Quatre-Femmes Square, with the windows of Madame Savournin and
-the captain lighted like two great eyes that watched him. His shoes made
-such a noise on the stones that he thought himself followed. Suddenly,
-he halted. He had heard, thirty yards away, the voices of the officers
-who patronized the table d'hôte of the blond widow. They must have been
-making merry over a punch, in honor of the exchange of one of their
-comrades. The young man told himself that if they came up the street, he
-was lost. There was no side street for him to turn into, and he would
-not have time to go back. He listened to the tread of their boots and
-the jingling of their swords with an anxiety that almost strangled him.
-For a moment, he could not have told whether they were approaching or
-going in the other direction. But the noises gradually grew fainter. He
-waited, then went on softly. At last, he reached the city gate. He
-passed through, but the sudden widening out of the country terrified
-him. There was a blue haze over the earth; a fresh breeze stirred; and
-it seemed to him that an immense crowd awaited him and breathed in his
-face.
-
-Yet, there was the bridge. He could see the white roadway, the two
-parapets, low and gray like granite benches; he could hear the crystal
-music of the Chanteclair in the tall grasses. So, he risked it. He bent
-over, avoiding open space as much as possible, fearing to be seen by the
-thousand mute witnesses that he felt around him. The most terrible
-ordeal would be on the bridge itself, where he would be exposed to the
-view of the whole town, which was built like an amphitheatre. He had one
-last wavering of the will,--and then he crossed the bridge.
-
-He leaned over; he saw the surface with its ripples like smiles. That
-was the spot. He unloaded his burden on the parapet. Before throwing the
-body in, he had an irresistible impulse to look at little Colombel
-again. He remained for several seconds face to face with the corpse. A
-cart in the distance rumbled and creaked. So Julien made haste; and, to
-avoid a noisy plunge, he let the body down slowly, leaning over as far
-as possible. He did not know how it happened, but the arms of the corpse
-caught around his neck and he was dragged over. He saved himself from
-going down, by a miracle. Little Colombel wanted to take him with him.
-
-When he found himself seated on the stone, he was taken with a fit of
-weakness. He remained there, broken, his spine curved, his legs hanging,
-in the relaxed attitude of a tired pedestrian. And he contemplated the
-sleeping surface, where the laughing ripples had reappeared. One thing
-was certain,--little Colombel had tried to drag him down with him.
-
-Then, he recalled Therese. She was waiting for him. He could see her
-standing at the head of the ruined steps, in her white silk dress with
-its sweet briar blossoms, all white and their hearts touched with red.
-But perhaps, she had felt cold and had gone to her room to wait for him.
-
-No woman had ever waited for him before. Just one minute more, and then
-he would be at the rendezvous! But his legs were numb, and he feared
-that he would fall asleep. Was he a coward, then? And, to rouse himself,
-he pictured Therese as he had seen her at her toilet. He saw again her
-arms raised, moving her delicate elbows and her pale hands. He recalled
-that room of terrible voluptuousness, where he had known a mad
-intoxication. Was he to renounce that passion offered him, a foretaste
-of which was burning his lips? No; he would sooner drag himself upon his
-knees, if his legs refused to carry him!
-
-But it was already a lost battle, in which his vanquished love had just
-expired. The image of Therese paled; a black wall arose, separating him
-from her. He had but one irresistible desire,--to sleep, to sleep
-forever! He would not go to the office to-morrow,--it would be useless.
-He would never again play the flute; he would never again sit by his
-window. So, why not sleep forever? His existence was ended,--he could go
-to bed. And he looked again at the river, trying to see if little
-Colombel was still there.
-
-The surface spread, dimpled by the rapid smiles of its currents The
-Chanteclair sang musically, while the country softened under the shadow
-of a sovereign peace. Julien murmured the name of "Therese." Then, he
-let himself go, and, rolling over, he fell like a bundle into the water,
-sending up great splashes of foam. And the Chanteclair continued its
-song among the grasses.
-
-When the two bodies were found, it was thought there had been a combat,
-and a story was invented forthwith. Julien must have lain in wait for
-little Colombel to avenge his mocking; and he must have jumped into the
-river after killing his enemy with a blow on the temple.
-
-Three months later, Mademoiselle Therese de Marsanne married the young
-Count de Veteuil. She wore a white dress, and her face was beautiful in
-its haughty purity.
-
-*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FOR A NIGHT OF LOVE ***
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-<pre style='margin-bottom:6em;'>The Project Gutenberg EBook of For a Night of Love, by Émile Zola
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
-most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
-whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
-of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
-www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you
-will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before
-using this ebook.
-
-Title: For a Night of Love
-
-Author: Émile Zola
-
-Release Date: November 18, 2020 [EBook #63791]
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: UTF-8
-
-Produced by: Laura Natal Rodrigues at Free Literature (Images
-             generously made available by Hathi Trust.)
-
-*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FOR A NIGHT OF LOVE ***
-</pre>
-<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
-<img src="images/night_cover.jpg" width="500" alt="" />
-</div>
-
-
-<h2>FOR A</h2>
-
-<h2>NIGHT OF LOVE</h2>
-
-
-<h5>By</h5>
-
-<h3>EMILE ZOLA</h3>
-
-
-<h4>THE WARREN PRESS</h4>
-
-<h5>New York</h5>
-
-
-<hr class="r5" />
-
-
-<p class="center">Copyright 1911, by<br />
-The Warren Press</p>
-
-
-<hr class="r5" />
-
-
-<h4>FOR A NIGHT OF LOVE</h4>
-
-
-
-
-<h4>I</h4>
-
-
-<p>The little town of P.... is built on a hill. At the foot of the old
-ramparts runs a deep brook, the Chanteclair, doubtless so named from the
-crystalline sound of its limpid waters. When one arrives by the
-Versailles road, one crosses the Chanteclair at the south gate of the
-city, over a stone bridge with a single arch, of which the broad
-parapets, low and rounded, serve as benches for all the old people of
-the suburbs. Opposite, rises Beau-Soleil Street, at the end of which is
-a silent square, Quatre-Femmes, paved with huge cobbles and invaded by a
-thickset weed which makes it green as a meadow. The houses sleep. Every
-half hour, the dragging step of a passer-by starts a dog barking behind
-a stable-door, and the one excitement in the square is the regular
-appearance, twice a day, of officers who go to their table d'hôte in
-Beau-Soleil Street.</p>
-
-<p>In the house of a gardener, to the left, lived Julien Michon. The
-gardener had rented him a large room, on the first floor; and, as the
-landlord occupied the other side of the house, facing his garden, Julien
-was left to himself. Having his own private entrance and stairway, he
-already lived, although only twenty-five years of age, like a retired
-bourgeois of small means.</p>
-
-<p>The young man had lost his father and his mother while very young. An
-uncle had sent the child to a boarding-school. Then, the uncle died, and
-Julien had been filling a position as clerk in the post-office for the
-past five years. His salary was fifteen hundred francs, without any hope
-of ever getting more. But he could economize on that, and he did not
-imagine a larger or a happier life than his.</p>
-
-<p>Tall, strong, bony, Julien had large hands that seemed in his way.</p>
-
-<p>He felt himself to be ugly, with his square head left in a sketchy state
-as if roughly modeled by an indifferent sculptor. And that made him
-timid, especially in the presence of young women. His awkwardness
-engendered a startled attitude of mind, and a morbid desire for
-mediocrity and seclusion. He seemed resigned to grow old thus, without a
-comrade, without a love affair, with his tastes of a cloistered monk.</p>
-
-<p>And that life did not weigh heavily upon his broad shoulders. Julien was
-very happy. He had a calm, transparent soul. His daily existence, with
-its fixed rules, was serenity itself. In the morning, he went to his
-office, peacefully took up the work left off the preceding day; then
-lunched on a small loaf, and continued his work. Afterwards, he dined,
-he went to bed and slept. The next day, the sun brought with it the same
-routine.</p>
-
-<p>On holidays, he would go off on a tramp all alone, happily reeling off
-the miles, and returning broken with fatigue.</p>
-
-<p>He had never been seen in the company of a petticoat, in the evenings on
-the ramparts. The working girls of P...., sharp-tongued wantons, had
-ended by leaving him alone, after seeing him, on several occasions,
-stand before them almost suffocated from embarrassment, and taking their
-laughs of encouragement for mockery.</p>
-
-<p>Julien's paradise, the one place where he breathed freely, was his room.
-There only, he felt sheltered from the world. There, he straightened up;
-he laughed to himself; and, when he caught sight of himself in the
-mirror, he was surprised to find himself so young.</p>
-
-<p>His room was vast. He had furnished it with a large canopy bed, a round
-table, two chairs and an armchair. But there still remained plenty of
-room for walking about. The bed was lost in the depths of an immense
-alcove; a small chest of drawers, between the two windows, looked like a
-child's plaything. He walked about, stretched himself, and never seemed
-bored. He never wrote away from the bureau, and reading tired him. His
-only passion was music. He would spend entire evenings playing the
-flute. That was, above everything, his greatest recreation.</p>
-
-<p>Julien had learned by himself to play the flute. For a long time, an old
-yellow flute at a bric-à-brac merchant's on the market square had
-aroused his covetousness. He had the money, but he did not dare enter
-and buy it, for fear of exciting ridicule. At last, one evening, he grew
-bold enough to get the flute and carry it away on the run, hidden under
-his coat. Then, doors and windows closed, he had studied for two years
-out of an old method that he had picked up at a bookseller's.</p>
-
-<p>During the last six months only, he risked playing with the windows
-open. He knew nothing but ancient airs, slow and simple, romances of the
-last century, which acquired an infinite tenderness as he stumbled over
-them with the awkwardness of a pupil filled with emotion. In the warm
-evenings, when the quarter was asleep, and this light song floated from
-the large room lighted by a single candle it seemed like a voice of love
-confiding to the solitude of the night what it never would have uttered
-in broad daylight.</p>
-
-<p>Julien feared that they might complain of him in the neighborhood, but
-they sleep soundly in the country towns. Besides, Quatre-Femmes Square
-was inhabited only by a notary, M. Savournin, and a retired gendarme,
-Captain Pidoux, very convenient neighbors who went to bed and to sleep
-at nine o'clock. Julien was more anxious in regard to the inmates of a
-noble mansion, the Marsanne residence, which reared itself on the other
-side of the square, directly in front of his windows. It had a sad, gray
-facade, of the severity of a monastery. A flight of five steps, invaded
-by weeds, led up to a round door that was studded with enormous nails.
-The only story had ten windows in a row, the shutters of which were
-opened and closed always at the same hours, without allowing a view of
-the rooms behind their heavy drawn curtains. To the left, the large
-chestnut trees of the garden made a green mass that spread in a widening
-wave to the ramparts.</p>
-
-<p>Throughout the countryside, the mansion was celebrated, and it was said
-that strangers came long distances to visit it. There were also legends
-afloat concerning the wealth of the Marsannes. But Julien, during all
-the hours that he had sat at his windows seeking to penetrate the
-mysteries of that enormous fortune, had never seen anything but the gray
-facade and the dark mass of the chestnut trees. Never had anyone mounted
-the steps, never had the moss-grown door opened. The Marsannes had
-ceased to use that door; they went in and out through an iron gate on
-Saint-Anne Street. There was, besides, at the end of a lane near the
-ramparts, a little gate opening into the garden, that Julien could not
-see. For him, the house remained dead, like a palace in a fairy story
-peopled by invisible inhabitants.</p>
-
-<p>One Sunday, in the square before the church, one of the post-office
-employees pointed out to Julien a tall old man and an old lady, telling
-him that they were the Marquis and Marquise de Marsanne. Then his
-companion informed him that they had a daughter still in the convent,
-Mademoiselle Therese de Marsanne; and that little Colombel, M.
-Savournin's clerk, was her foster-brother. As the old couple were about
-to turn into Saint-Anne Street, little Colombel approached, and the
-marquis held out his hand,&mdash;an honor he had not accorded anyone else.
-Julien suffered from that handshake; for this Colombel, a youth of
-twenty years, with sharp eyes and a mean mouth, had long been his enemy.
-He made fun of Julien's timidity; he had stirred up the laundry-girls of
-Beau-Soleil Street against him; and one evening, the two youths had come
-to blows on the ramparts, with the result that the notary's clerk
-retired with two black eyes.</p>
-
-<p>Julien had lived five years on Quatre-Femmes Square when, one July
-evening, an event upset his existence. The night was very warm. He was
-playing his flute without a light, but absent-mindedly, when, all of a
-sudden, opposite him, a window in the Marsanne mansion opened, showing a
-brilliant light in the somber facade. A young girl leaned upon the
-window-railing and she raised her head as if listening. Julien,
-trembling, had stopped playing. He could not distinguish the face of the
-young girl, he could only see the waving mass of her loosened hair. And
-a light voice reached him in the midst of the silence.</p>
-
-<p>"Didst thou not hear, Françoise? It sounded like music."</p>
-
-<p>"A nightingale, miss," answered a coarse voice from the room. "Close the
-blinds; look out for night-insects."</p>
-
-<p>When the facade had grown dark again, Julien could not leave his
-armchair. An hour later, he began to play again very softly. He smiled
-at the thought that the young girl probably imagined that there was a
-nightingale in the chestnut trees.</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<h4>II</h4>
-
-
-<p>The next day, at the post-office, the great news was that Mademoiselle
-Therese de Marsanne had left the convent. Julien did not relate that he
-had seen her, with bare throat, and loosened hair. He entertained an
-indefinable sentiment toward that young lady who was to derange his
-habits. How could he henceforth play his flute? He played too badly to
-be heard by a young lady who evidently knew music.</p>
-
-<p>Julien returned home furtively that evening. He did not light a candle.
-The window opposite did not open, but, towards ten o'clock a pale light
-shone through the blades of the blinds. Then, the light was
-extinguished, and he was left contemplating the dark window. Every
-evening, in spite of himself, he began that spying. Nothing seemed
-changed in the house; the old mansion slept on as before. It required
-trained eyes and ears to detect the new life. Sometimes, a light ran
-behind the windows, a corner of a curtain was lifted, there was a
-glimpse of an immense room. At other times, a light step crossed the
-garden, the sound of a piano was faintly heard accompanying a voice.
-Julien explained his curiosity by pretending to be annoyed at the
-noises. How he regretted the time when the empty house sent back a soft
-echo of his flute!</p>
-
-<p>One of his most ardent wishes, though he would not admit it, was to see
-Therese again. He imagined her with pink cheeks, a mocking air, and
-shining eyes. But, as he did not dare approach his window in the
-daytime, he saw her only at night, enveloped by a gray shadow. One
-morning, as he was about to close one of his shutters to keep out the
-sun, he saw Therese standing in the middle of her room. She seemed to be
-reflecting. She was tall, very pale, with beautiful, regular features.
-He was almost afraid of her,&mdash;she was so different from the gay image
-he had formed of her. She had a rather large mouth, of a vivid red, and
-deep-set eyes, black and without a sparkle, giving her the air of a
-cruel queen. She came slowly toward the window; but she did not appear
-to see Julien. She went away again, and the rhythmic movement of her
-neck had so strong a grace that he felt as weak as a child beside her,
-in spite of his broad shoulders.</p>
-
-<p>Then began a miserable existence for the young man. That beautiful young
-woman, so serious and noble, living so near him, made him despair. She
-never looked at him; she ignored his existence. After a month had
-passed, he suffered from the disdain of the young girl. She came to the
-window, looked out on the deserted pavement, and retired without
-divining his proximity, as he watched, anxious, on the other side of the
-square.</p>
-
-<p>On warm evenings, he began playing again. He left his shutters open, and
-played, in the obscurity, those airs of bygone days, naive as the
-roundels of little girls. He chose moonless nights; the square was dark;
-no one knew whence came that song so sweet, brushing the sleeping houses
-with the soft wing of a nocturnal bird. And, the first evening, he had
-the emotion of seeing Therese approach the window, all in white
-negligee. She leaned on her elbows, surprised to hear again the music
-that greeted her the evening of her arrival.</p>
-
-<p>"Listen, Françoise," she said, in her serious voice, turning towards the
-room. "It is not a bird."</p>
-
-<p>"Oh!" answered the old woman, of whom Julien could see only the shadow,
-"it is some comedian amusing himself, a long distance from here."</p>
-
-<p>"Yes, a long distance," repeated the young girl, after a silence.</p>
-
-<p>From then on, Julien played louder every evening. His fever passed into
-the old flute of yellow wood. And Therese, who listened, was astonished
-at that music, the vibrant phrases of which, flitting from roof to roof,
-awaited the night to make their way to her. One night, the song burst
-forth so near that she surmised that it came from one of the old houses
-in the square. Julien breathed into the flute all his passion; the
-instrument vibrated like crystal. The darkness lent him such audacity
-that he hoped to draw her to him by the force of his song. And,
-effectually, Therese bent forward, as if attracted and conquered.</p>
-
-<p>"Come in," said the voice of the aged lady. "The night is stormy; you
-will have nightmare."</p>
-
-<p>That night, Julien could not sleep. He imagined that Therese had guessed
-him to be the musician, had seen him perhaps. Yet, he decided that he
-would not show himself. He was in front of his window, at six o'clock
-the next morning, putting his flute into its case, when the blinds of
-Therese's window were suddenly thrown open.</p>
-
-<p>The young girl, who never arose before eight o'clock, leaned upon the
-railing. Julien did not move; he looked her in the face, unable to turn
-away. Therese, in her turn, examined him with a steady and haughty
-regard. She seemed to study him in his large bones, in his enormous and
-badly formed body, in all the ugliness of this timid giant. When she had
-judged him, with the tranquil air with which she would have asked
-herself whether a dog in the street pleased her or not, she condemned
-him with a slight pout. Then turning her back, she closed the window
-with deliberation.</p>
-
-<p>Julien, his legs giving way under him, fell into his armchair.</p>
-
-<p>"Ah! mon Dieu!" he exclaimed, brokenly. "I am displeasing to her! And I
-love her, and I shall die!"</p>
-
-<p>He bowed his head upon his hands and sobbed. Why had he shown himself?
-When one was so ugly, he should hide himself and not shock young girls.
-He cursed himself, furious with his looks. He should have remained for
-her a sweet music,&mdash;nothing but ancient airs descriptive of a
-mysterious love.</p>
-
-<p>In effect, he vainly breathed forth the liquid tender melodies: Therese
-no longer listened. She came and went in her room, leaned out of the
-window, as if he had not been opposite, declaring his love in humble
-little notes. One day, even, she exclaimed: "Mon Dieu! How annoying that
-flute is, with its false notes!"</p>
-
-<p>So, in despair, he threw the flute into a drawer, and played no more.</p>
-
-<p>Little Colombel, too, scoffed at Julien. One day, on his way to the
-office, he had seen Julien at his window practising, and, each time that
-he passed, he laughed his mean little laugh. Julien knew that the
-notary's clerk was received at the Marsanne's, and it broke his
-heart,&mdash;not that he was jealous of that shrimp, but because he would
-have given his life to be for one hour in his place.</p>
-
-<p>Françoise, the mother of the young man, had been for years one of the
-Marsanne household, and now she took care of Therese. Long ago, the
-aristocratic young lady and the little peasant had grown up together,
-and it seemed natural that they should preserve some of their former
-comradeship. Julien suffered none the less when he met Colombel in the
-streets with his lips puckered into a thin smile. His repulsion
-increased when he realized that the shrimp was not bad looking. He had a
-round cat-like head, but very delicate, pretty, and diabolical, with
-green eyes and a light curly beard on his soft chin.</p>
-
-<p>Julien did not relinquish his dream of love without a great struggle. He
-remained hidden for several weeks, ashamed of his ugliness. Then, he was
-shaken by rage. He felt the need to display his large limbs, to force on
-her sight his rough face, burning with fever. So, he remained for weeks
-at his window, he wearied her with his regard. Even, on two occasions,
-he had sent her ardent kisses, with the brutality shown by timid people
-when they are prompted to audacity. Therese exhibited no anger. When he
-was concealed from her view he saw her going about with her royal air;
-and, when he thrust himself upon her, she preserved that air and was
-even colder and haughtier.</p>
-
-<p>During that first year, the days followed each other without a break.
-When the summer came around again, he experienced a peculiar sensation:
-Therese seemed to have acquired a different manner. The same little
-events took place,&mdash;the shutters were opened in the morning and closed
-at night, there were the same appearances at the accustomed hours; but a
-new breath seemed to emanate from her room. Therese was paler and
-taller. On a very feverish day, he dared for the third time to send her
-a kiss. She looked at him intently, with her disquieting seriousness. It
-was he who retired from the window, his face crimson.</p>
-
-<p>A single occurrence, toward the end of the summer, upset him, although
-it was very simple. Nearly every day, at twilight, the casement opposite
-was closed violently. The noise made him shudder, without his knowing
-why. For a long time, he could not distinguish whose hand closed the
-window; but, one evening, he recognized the pale hands of Therese. It
-was she who turned the fastening with that furious movement. And when,
-an hour later, she reopened the window,&mdash;but without haste, rather
-with a dignified slowness,&mdash;she seemed weary.</p>
-
-<p>One autumn evening, gray and soft, there was a terrible grinding of the
-window fastening. Julien shuddered and tears sprang to his eyes. He
-waited for the window to open again. It was thrown wide as violently as
-it had been closed. Therese appeared. She was very white, with distended
-eyes and hair falling over her shoulders. She put her ten fingers upon
-her lips and sent a kiss to Julien.</p>
-
-<p>Distracted, he pressed his fists against his chest and asked if that
-kiss was for him. Then, Therese, thinking that he had shrunk back,
-leaned forward and sent him a second kiss. She followed it with a third.
-He stood rooted, thunderstruck. When she considered that he was
-vanquished, she glanced over the little square. Then, in a muffled
-voice, she said simply,&mdash;</p>
-
-<p>"Come!"</p>
-
-<p>He went down and approached the mansion. As he raised his head, the door
-at the top of the steps opened slightly,&mdash;that rusty door that was
-almost sealed with moss. But he walked in a stupor,&mdash;nothing
-astonished him. As soon as he entered, the door closed, and a small icy
-hand led him upstairs. He went along a corridor, passed through a room,
-and, at last, found himself in a room that he knew. It was the dreamed-of
-paradise, the room with the rose silk curtains. He was tempted to sink
-to his knees. Therese stood before him very erect, her hands tightly
-clasped, and resolutely holding under control the tremor that had
-possession of her.</p>
-
-<p>"You love me?" she asked in a low voice.</p>
-
-<p>"Oh! yes, yes!" he stammered.</p>
-
-<p>She made a gesture, as if to forestall any useless words. She continued,
-with a haughty manner that seemed to render her words natural and
-chaste.</p>
-
-<p>"If I gave myself to you, you would do anything for me,&mdash;wouldn't
-you?"</p>
-
-<p>He could not answer,&mdash;he clasped his hands. For a kiss from her, he
-would sell himself.</p>
-
-<p>"Well! I have a service to exact of you. We must swear to keep the
-bargain. I swear to carry out my part of it. Now, swear, swear!"</p>
-
-<p>"Oh! I swear,&mdash;anything you wish!" he cried, in absolute
-abandonment.</p>
-
-<p>The pure odor of her room intoxicated him. The curtains of the alcove
-were drawn, and the thought of that virgin bed in the softened shadow of
-the rose silk, filled him with a religious ecstasy.</p>
-
-<p>Then, with a brutal movement, she tore the curtains apart, revealing the
-alcove, into which the faint evening light penetrated. The bed was in
-disorder. The coverings trailed over the sides, a pillow on the floor
-was ripped open as if by teeth. And, in the midst of the rumpled laces,
-lay the body of a man, thrown across the bed.</p>
-
-<p>"There!" she explained in a strangled voice. "That man was my lover. I
-pushed him and he fell. I know no more. Well, he is dead; and you must
-carry him away! You understand? That is all,&mdash;yes, that is all!
-There!"</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<h4>III</h4>
-
-
-<p>When very small, Therese de Marsanne made Colombel her fag and butt. He
-was her elder by about six months, and Françoise, his mother, had
-weaned him in order to nurse Therese.</p>
-
-<p>Therese was a terrible child. Not that she was a noisy tomboy. On the
-contrary, she had a singular seriousness that made her appear as a well
-bred child before visitors, for whom she made graceful curtseys. But she
-had very strange ways; she would burst into inarticulate cries, stamping
-madly about, when she was alone.</p>
-
-<p>No one ever knew her thoughts. Even as a child, instead of her eyes
-being clear mirrors revealing her soul, they were like dark cavities, of
-an inky blackness, in which it was impossible to read.</p>
-
-<p>At six years of age, she began to torture Colombel. He was small and
-delicate. She would take him to the bottom of the garden, under the
-chestnut trees, and, jumping on his back would make him carry her. He
-was the horse, she was the lady. When, dizzy, he seemed ready to fall,
-she would bite his ear, clinging to him with such fury that she would
-sink her nails into his flesh.</p>
-
-<p>Later, in the presence of her parents, she would pinch him and forbid
-his crying out under pain of being thrown out into the street. They thus
-had a sort of secret existence, their attitude when alone together
-changing in company. When they were alone, she treated him like a
-plaything, with a desire to break him. And as she wearied of reigning
-over him only when they were alone, she added the pleasure of giving him
-a kick or pricking him with a pin while in company at the same time
-fixing him with her somber eyes and daring him to so much as twitch.</p>
-
-<p>Colombel bore that martyr's existence with dumb revolts that left him
-trembling, his eyes lowered, with a desire to strangle his young
-mistress. But, he was of a sly and vindictive nature. It did not
-altogether displease him to be beaten; he immediately gloated in his
-rancor. He would avenge himself by falling on the stones, dragging
-Therese with him, so that he would escape injury and she would be
-scratched and bruised. If he did not cry out when she pinched or pricked
-him, it was because he wished no one to interfere between them. It was
-their own affair,&mdash;a quarrel from which he intended to issue the
-conqueror later on.</p>
-
-<p>Meanwhile, the marquis was worried about the violent conduct of his
-daughter. He considered it his duty to submit her to a rigid education.
-So, he placed her in a convent, hoping that the discipline would soften
-her nature. She remained there until her eighteenth year.</p>
-
-<p>When Therese returned home, she was very well-behaved and very tall. Her
-parents were pleased to note in her a profound piety. The marquis and
-the marquise, secluded for fifteen years in the big house, prepared to
-open the drawing-room again. They gave several dinners to the nobility
-of the neighborhood; they had dancing. Their design was to marry
-Therese. And, in spite of her coldness, she made herself very agreeable.
-She adorned herself and she waltzed, but always with a face so pale that
-the young men who thought of falling in love with her were uneasy.</p>
-
-<p>Therese had never mentioned little Colombel. The marquis had taken an
-interest in him, and, after giving him a schooling, had placed him in M.
-Savournin's office. One day, Françoise led her son up to Therese and
-presented to the young girl her comrade of former days. Colombel was
-smiling, very clean, and without a sign of embarrassment. Therese looked
-at him calmly, said she remembered him, and turned her back.</p>
-
-<p>But, a week later, Colombel returned; and he had soon resumed his former
-habits. He came every evening to the house, bringing music and books. He
-was treated as of no consequence,&mdash;he was sent on errands like a
-servant or a poor relation. So they left him alone with the young girl,
-without thinking of harm. As in the old days, the two shut themselves up in
-the vast rooms, or remained for hours in the shade of the garden. In
-verity, they no longer played the same games. Therese walked slowly, with
-her skirt brushing the grass. Colombel, dressed like the rich young men of
-the town, accompanied her, whipping the path with a supple cane that he
-invariably carried.</p>
-
-<p>Yet, she was again the queen and he the slave. She tortured him with her
-fantastic humors, affectionate one moment and hard the next. He, when
-she turned her head, swept her with a glittering glance, sharp as a
-sword, and his whole vicious figure stretched and watched, dreaming a
-treachery.</p>
-
-<p>One summer evening, they had strolled in the heavy shadow of the
-chestnut trees for some time in silence, when Therese suddenly remarked:</p>
-
-<p>"I am tired, Colombel. Suppose you carry me as you used to."</p>
-
-<p>He laughed lightly; then answered seriously:</p>
-
-<p>"I am willing, Therese."</p>
-
-<p>Without another word, Therese sprang upon his back with her old
-agility.</p>
-
-<p>"Now go!" she cried.</p>
-
-<p>She had snatched his cane and she lashed his legs with it, forcing him
-into a gallop beneath the thick foliage. He had not said a word; he
-breathed hard and tried to stiffen his slender legs, as the warm weight
-of the big girl bore him down.</p>
-
-<p>But, when she cried out "Enough!" he did not stop. He ran all the
-faster, as if carried on by the impetus of the start. In spite of
-lashings and the digging in of her nails, he made for a shed in which
-the gardener kept his tools. There, he threw her roughly upon a heap of
-straw, and, his vindictiveness lending strength to his puny body, he
-vanquished her. At last, it was his turn to be master!</p>
-
-<p>Therese became even paler, while her eyes grew blacker than ever and her
-mouth a more vivid crimson. She continued her devotional life.</p>
-
-<p>Several days after the first occurrence, Therese, still panting with the
-desire to subjugate little Colombel, again leaped upon his back and
-lashed him. But the scene had the same ending. Again, she was thrown
-upon the straw and wronged.</p>
-
-<p>Before the world, she maintained a sisterly attitude toward him. He,
-also, was of a smiling tranquility. They were again, as at six years of
-age, a couple of unruly animals, amusing themselves in secret by biting
-each other. Only, to-day, the male was victorious.</p>
-
-<p>Therese received Colombel in her room. She had given him a key to the
-little gate that opened on the lane at the ramparts. At night, he was
-obliged to pass through the first room, in which his mother slept. But
-the lovers showed such calm audacity that they were never surprised.
-They dared make appointments in the daytime. Colombel came before
-dinner, and Therese, expecting him, would close the window to escape the
-neighbors' eyes.</p>
-
-<p>They felt the constant need to see each other,&mdash;not to exchange
-tender expressions of love, but to continue the combat for supremacy.
-Often, they would quarrel fiercely, in low voices, all the more shaken by
-anger as they dared not scream or fight.</p>
-
-<p>One evening, Colombel arrived before dinner. As he was walking across
-the room, still with bare feet and in his shirt-sleeves, he suddenly
-seized Therese and tried to lift her up, as he had seen strong men do at
-the fairs. Therese tried to break away, saying:</p>
-
-<p>"Leave me alone. You know I am stronger than you. I will hurt you."</p>
-
-<p>Colombel laughed his little laugh.</p>
-
-<p>"Well! Hurt me!" he murmured.</p>
-
-<p>He shook her as a preliminary to throwing her down. She closed her arms
-about him. They often played this game. It was usually Colombel who went
-down on the carpet, breathless, with inert limbs. But, this day, Therese
-slipped to her knees, and Colombel, with a sudden thrust, threw her over
-backward. He triumphed.</p>
-
-<p>"So, you see you are not the stronger," he said with an insulting
-laugh.</p>
-
-<p>She was livid. She raised herself slowly, and dumb, she grasped him
-again, her whole form so shaken by anger that he shivered. For a minute,
-they struggled in silence; then, with a last and terrible effort, she
-threw him backward. He struck his temple against a corner of a chest and
-felt heavily to the floor.</p>
-
-<p>Therese drew a deep breath. She gathered up her hair before the mirror,
-she smoothed out her petticoat, affecting to pay no attention to the
-conquered Colombel. He could pick himself up. Then, she touched him with
-her foot. She saw that his face was of the color of wax, his eyes
-glassy, and his mouth twisted. On his right temple there was a hole.
-Colombel was dead.</p>
-
-<p>She straightened up, chilled with horror. She spoke aloud in the
-silence.</p>
-
-<p>"Dead! Here he is dead now!"</p>
-
-<p>A terror held her rigid above the corpse. She heard his mother passing
-along the corridor! Other noises arose,&mdash;steps, voices, preparations
-for an evening's entertainment. They might call her, come to look for her
-at any moment. And here was this dead body of her lover, whom she had
-killed and who had fallen back upon her shoulders, with the crushing
-weight of their sin.</p>
-
-<p>Then, crazed by the clamor in her brain, she began walking back and
-forth. She sought a hole into which to cast this body that was
-threatening her future. She looked under all the furniture, in the
-corners, trembling with an enraged realization of her impotence. No,
-there was no hole, the alcove was not deep enough, the wardrobes were
-too narrow, the whole room refused its aid. And it was in this room that
-they had hidden their kisses. He used to enter with his light, cat-like
-step, and went away as softly. Never should she have imagined that he
-could become so heavy.</p>
-
-<p>She still roved about the room like a trapped animal. Suddenly, she had
-an inspiration. Suppose she should throw the body out of the window? But
-it would be found, and it would be easy to guess where it had come from.</p>
-
-<p>Meanwhile, she had raised the curtain to look out into the street; and
-there, opposite, was the imbecile who played the flute, leaning out of
-his window with his tame-dog expression. She well knew his sallow face,
-unceasingly turned toward her and wearying her with its avowal of timid
-tenderness. The sight of Julien, so humble and so loving, stopped her
-short. A smile flitted across her pale face. Here was her salvation! The
-imbecile opposite loved her with the devotion of a dog who would obey
-her even to the commission of a crime. Besides she would reward him with
-all her heart, with all her body. She had not loved him because he was
-too gentle; but she would love him, she would buy him with the gift of
-her body, if he would help her conceal her crime.</p>
-
-<p>Then, quickly, she took up the body of Colombel as if it were a bundle
-of linen, and threw it on the bed. Immediately opening the window, she
-threw kisses to Julien.</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<h4>IV</h4>
-
-
-<p>Julien walked as in a nightmare. When he recognized Colombel on the bed,
-he was not astonished,&mdash;it seemed quite natural. Yes, no one but
-Colombel could be in that alcove, his temple indented, his limbs spread
-out in an attitude of revolting lewdness.</p>
-
-<p>Meanwhile, Therese was speaking to him. He did not hear at first; the
-words flowed through his stupor with a confused sound. Then, he
-understood that she was giving him orders, and he listened. Now, he must
-not leave the room; he must remain until midnight,&mdash;until the house
-grew dark and quiet. The party that the marquis was giving would prevent
-their doing anything sooner. But, in a way, it acted in their favor, for
-it so occupied everybody's attention that no one would think of coming
-up to the young girl's room. At the proper time, Julien was to take the
-body on his back, carry it down and throw it into the Chanteclair, at
-the bottom of Beau-Soleil Street Therese explained the whole plan.</p>
-
-<p>She ceased talking, and, placing her hands on the young man's shoulders,
-she asked:&mdash;</p>
-
-<p>"You understand,&mdash;is it agreed?"</p>
-
-<p>He shuddered.</p>
-
-<p>"Yes, yes; everything you wish. I am yours."</p>
-
-<p>Then, very serious, she leaned forward. As he did not understand, she
-said:&mdash;</p>
-
-<p>"Kiss me."</p>
-
-<p>He kissed her on her icy brow. And then they became silent.</p>
-
-<p>Therese had again drawn the curtains of the bed. She sank into an
-armchair, where she rested, lost in the darkness. Julien also sat down.
-Françoise was no longer in the next room; the house sent them only
-muffled sounds. The room seemed to be asleep, and gradually filling with
-shadows. For nearly an hour, neither moved. Julien felt within his head
-great throbs, like blows, which prevented his reasoning. He was with
-Therese, and that filled him with happiness. But when the thought
-flashed on him that there was the corpse of a man in that alcove, he
-felt as if he would swoon. Was it possible that she had loved that
-shrimp? He excused her for having killed him. What fired his blood was
-the bare feet of that man in the midst of the rumpled laces. With what
-joy he would throw him into the Chanteclair, at the end of the bridge,
-at a dark and deep spot that he knew well! They would both be well quit
-of him; they could then belong to each other. At the thought of that
-happiness that he had not dared dream of in the morning, he saw himself
-on the bed in the very place where the corpse now lay; and the place was
-cold and he felt a terrified repugnance.</p>
-
-<p>The clock struck, in the midst of the great silence. Therese got up
-slowly and lighted the candles on her dressing-table. She appeared
-possessed of her accustomed calm, coming and going with the quiet step
-of a person who busies herself in the intimacy of her room. She seemed
-to have forgotten the sprawling body behind the rose silk hangings. As
-she uncoiled her hair, she said, without even turning her head:&mdash;</p>
-
-<p>"I am going to dress for the party. If anyone comes, hide yourself in
-the end of the alcove."</p>
-
-<p>He remained seated; he watched her. She already treated him like a
-lover. With raised arms, she dressed her hair. He watched her with a
-thrill, so desirable she appeared with her back uncovered, lazily moving
-her delicate elbows and her tapering hands. Was she displaying her
-seductions, showing him the lover he was to possess, in order to make
-him brave?</p>
-
-<p>She had just put on her slippers, when a step was heard in the
-corridor.</p>
-
-<p>"Hide in the alcove," she said, in a low voice.</p>
-
-<p>And, with a quick movement, she threw upon the stiffened body of
-Colombel all the linen that she had taken off,&mdash;a linen still warm
-with the perfume of her body.</p>
-
-<p>It was Françoise who entered, saying,&mdash;</p>
-
-<p>"They are waiting for you, Mademoiselle."</p>
-
-<p>"I am coming, my good woman," peacefully answered Therese. "You can
-help me put on my dress."</p>
-
-<p>Julien, through a slit in the curtain, could see them both, and he
-trembled at the audacity of the young girl. His teeth chattered so
-loudly that he grasped his jaw and held it in his hand. Beside him,
-under a chemise, he saw one of the icy feet of Colombel. If Françoise,
-the mother, should draw the curtain and strike against the bare foot of
-her child!</p>
-
-<p>"Be careful," said Therese. "You are pulling off the flowers."</p>
-
-<p>Her voice betrayed no emotion. She smiled like a girl pleased to go to a
-ball. The dress was of white silk, trimmed with sweet briar,&mdash;white
-flowers, with the hearts touched with red. And when she stood in the
-middle of the room, she was like a large bouquet of virginal whiteness.
-Her bare arms and her bare neck continued the whiteness of the silk.</p>
-
-<p>"Oh! how beautiful you are! How beautiful you are!" repeated the old
-Françoise. "And your garland,&mdash;wait!"</p>
-
-<p>She searched for it, and was about to put her hand on the curtains to
-look on the bed. Julien almost let out a cry of anguish. But Therese,
-without haste, always smiling before the mirror, said:&mdash;</p>
-
-<p>"It is there, on the chest. Give it to me. And don't touch my bed. I put
-some things on it, and you would mix them all up."</p>
-
-<p>Françoise helped her to arrange the branch of sweet briar like a crown,
-with its flexible end drooping to the back of her neck. Françoise stood
-admiring her. She was ready and putting on her gloves.</p>
-
-<p>"Ah! well," cried Françoise, "there are no holy Virgins in the church
-as white as you."</p>
-
-<p>This compliment caused the young girl to smile again. She gave a last
-glance into the mirror, and started for the door, saying,&mdash;</p>
-
-<p>"Come along; let us go down. You can put out the candles."</p>
-
-<p>In the sudden darkness, Julien heard the door close and Therese's gown
-rustle along the corridor. The deep night was a veil before his eyes,
-but he preserved the sensation of that bare foot near him. He remained
-there, unconscious of the lapse of time, weighed down by thoughts heavy
-as sleep, when the door opened. By the rustle of silk, he knew it was
-Therese. She did not come in; she simply put something on the chest of
-drawers, while she murmured:&mdash;</p>
-
-<p>"Here; you have not dined. You must eat, you understand."</p>
-
-<p>The gown rustled away again. Julien shook himself and got up. He
-suffocated in the alcove; he could no longer remain near that bed, beside
-Colombel. The clock struck eight,&mdash;he had four hours to wait! He
-walked about muffling his footsteps. A feeble light, from the starlit
-night, made it possible to distinguish the dark masses of furniture.</p>
-
-<p>Three times, he thought he heard a sigh issue from the alcove. He
-stopped, terrified. Then, when he listened intently, he found it was sounds
-from the festivities below,&mdash;dance music, the laughing murmur of
-a crowd. He closed his eyes; and, suddenly, instead of the blackness of
-the room, he saw brilliant lights, a flaming drawing-room, in which was
-Therese, in her white silk, waltzing to an amorous air. The whole house
-vibrated to joyous music. He was alone, in this horrible corner, shaking
-with fear!</p>
-
-<p>Ten o'clock struck. He listened. It seemed as if he had been there
-years. Then, he waited bewildered. Having found bread and fruit under
-his hand, he ate avidly, with a gnawing of the stomach that he could not
-assuage. When he had eaten, he was overcome by lassitude. The night
-seemed never-ending. The distant music grew clearer; the dancing at
-times shook the floor. Carriages began to rumble.</p>
-
-<p>He was looking fixedly at the door, when he saw a light through the
-keyhole. He did not hide. So much the worse, if anyone came in.</p>
-
-<p>"No; thank you, Françoise," said Therese, appearing with a candle, "I
-can undress quite well alone. Go to bed,&mdash;you must be tired."</p>
-
-<p>She closed the door and slipped the bolt. Then, she stood for a moment
-motionless, with her finger on her lip. The dance had not brought color
-to her cheeks. She did not speak. She set down the candle, and sat down
-opposite Julien. During a half hour, they waited, looking at each other.</p>
-
-<p>The doors had banged; the mansion had gone to sleep. But what worried
-Therese was the proximity of Françoise. Françoise walked about a few
-minutes, then her bed creaked. For some time, she turned from side to
-side, as if unable to sleep. At last, her strong and regular breathing
-was heard through the wall.</p>
-
-<p>Therese looked at Julien gravely. She said only one word,&mdash;"Come."</p>
-
-<p>They drew aside the curtains. They wished to clothe the corpse which
-already had the rigidity of a lugubrious puppet. When that task was
-finished, their brows were moist.</p>
-
-<p>"Come," she said a second time.</p>
-
-<p>Without hesitation, Julien took up the body and threw it across his
-shoulders, as butchers carry calves.</p>
-
-<p>"I will go before you," murmured Therese rapidly, "I will hold your
-coat,&mdash;you have only to follow. And walk softly."</p>
-
-<p>They had first to pass through Françoise's room. They had crossed it,
-when one of the feet of the corpse struck against a chair. At the sound,
-Françoise awoke. They heard her raise her head, mumbling to herself.
-They remained motionless,&mdash;she, pressed against the door; he, crushed
-under the weight of the body, with the horrible fear that the mother
-might surprise them carrying her son to the river. It was a moment of
-anguish. Then, Françoise went to sleep again, and they stealthily
-reached the corridor.</p>
-
-<p>But, here, another fright awaited them. The marquise had not gone to
-bed,&mdash;a streak of light came through the partly opened door. So, they
-dared neither go forward, nor retreat. For a quarter of an hour, they
-did not move, and Therese had the astounding courage to support the body
-so that Julien should not get tired. At last, the streak of light was
-obliterated. They could go on to the ground floor. They were saved.</p>
-
-<p>It was Therese who again opened the ancient door. And when Julien found
-himself in the middle of Quatre-Femmes Square with his burden, he saw
-her standing on the flight of steps, in her white ball gown. She was
-waiting for him.</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<h4>V</h4>
-
-
-<p>Julien had the strength of a bull. When very young, in the forest near
-his native village, he amused himself helping the woodcutters, carrying
-tree trunks on his young shoulders. So, he carried little Colombel as
-easily as a feather. It was a bird on his back, that corpse of a shrimp.
-He hardly felt it,&mdash;he experienced an unholy joy in finding it so
-light, so thin, so absolutely nothing. Little Colombel would never sneer at
-himagain, passing under his windows while he played the flute. He would
-never again humiliate him with his witticisms in the town. With a
-movement of the shoulder, he hoisted the body higher up, and, with set
-teeth, hastened his steps.</p>
-
-<p>The town was dark. Yet, there was light in Quatre-Femmes Square, in
-Captain Pidoux's window. Doubtless, the captain was not feeling well;
-his large profile could be seen passing back and forth behind the
-curtains. Julien, anxious, slunk in the shadow of the houses. Suddenly,
-a slight cough froze him. He hid in a doorway. He recognized the wife of
-M. Savournin taking the air at her window. It seemed like fatality.
-Ordinarily, at that hour, Quatre-Femmes Square slept soundly.
-Fortunately, Madame Savournin soon returned to the side of M. Savournin,
-whose snores could be heard on the pavement.</p>
-
-<p>Julien quickly crossed the square and breathed more freely in the
-narrowness of Beau-Soleil Street. There, the houses were so near
-together that the light of the stars did not penetrate the shadowy
-depths. As soon as he found himself thus sheltered, an irresistible
-desire to run sent him forward in a furious gallop. It was dangerous and
-stupid,&mdash;he knew it; but he still felt behind him the clear and empty
-space of Quatre-Femmes Square, with the windows of Madame Savournin and
-the captain lighted like two great eyes that watched him. His shoes made
-such a noise on the stones that he thought himself followed. Suddenly,
-he halted. He had heard, thirty yards away, the voices of the officers
-who patronized the table d'hôte of the blond widow. They must have been
-making merry over a punch, in honor of the exchange of one of their
-comrades. The young man told himself that if they came up the street, he
-was lost. There was no side street for him to turn into, and he would
-not have time to go back. He listened to the tread of their boots and
-the jingling of their swords with an anxiety that almost strangled him.
-For a moment, he could not have told whether they were approaching or
-going in the other direction. But the noises gradually grew fainter. He
-waited, then went on softly. At last, he reached the city gate. He
-passed through, but the sudden widening out of the country terrified
-him. There was a blue haze over the earth; a fresh breeze stirred; and
-it seemed to him that an immense crowd awaited him and breathed in his
-face.</p>
-
-<p>Yet, there was the bridge. He could see the white roadway, the two
-parapets, low and gray like granite benches; he could hear the crystal
-music of the Chanteclair in the tall grasses. So, he risked it. He bent
-over, avoiding open space as much as possible, fearing to be seen by the
-thousand mute witnesses that he felt around him. The most terrible
-ordeal would be on the bridge itself, where he would be exposed to the
-view of the whole town, which was built like an amphitheatre. He had one
-last wavering of the will,&mdash;and then he crossed the bridge.</p>
-
-<p>He leaned over; he saw the surface with its ripples like smiles. That
-was the spot. He unloaded his burden on the parapet. Before throwing the
-body in, he had an irresistible impulse to look at little Colombel
-again. He remained for several seconds face to face with the corpse. A
-cart in the distance rumbled and creaked. So Julien made haste; and, to
-avoid a noisy plunge, he let the body down slowly, leaning over as far
-as possible. He did not know how it happened, but the arms of the corpse
-caught around his neck and he was dragged over. He saved himself from
-going down, by a miracle. Little Colombel wanted to take him with him.</p>
-
-<p>When he found himself seated on the stone, he was taken with a fit of
-weakness. He remained there, broken, his spine curved, his legs hanging,
-in the relaxed attitude of a tired pedestrian. And he contemplated the
-sleeping surface, where the laughing ripples had reappeared. One thing
-was certain,&mdash;little Colombel had tried to drag him down with him.</p>
-
-<p>Then, he recalled Therese. She was waiting for him. He could see her
-standing at the head of the ruined steps, in her white silk dress with
-its sweet briar blossoms, all white and their hearts touched with red.
-But perhaps, she had felt cold and had gone to her room to wait for him.</p>
-
-<p>No woman had ever waited for him before. Just one minute more, and then
-he would be at the rendezvous! But his legs were numb, and he feared
-that he would fall asleep. Was he a coward, then? And, to rouse himself,
-he pictured Therese as he had seen her at her toilet. He saw again her
-arms raised, moving her delicate elbows and her pale hands. He recalled
-that room of terrible voluptuousness, where he had known a mad
-intoxication. Was he to renounce that passion offered him, a foretaste
-of which was burning his lips? No; he would sooner drag himself upon his
-knees, if his legs refused to carry him!</p>
-
-<p>But it was already a lost battle, in which his vanquished love had
-just expired. The image of Therese paled; a black wall arose, separating
-him from her. He had but one irresistible desire,&mdash;to sleep, to
-sleep forever! He would not go to the office to-morrow,&mdash;it would
-be useless. He would never again play the flute; he would never again
-sit by his window. So, why not sleep forever? His existence was
-ended,&mdash;he could go to bed. And he looked again at the river,
-trying to see if little Colombel was still there.</p>
-
-<p>The surface spread, dimpled by the rapid smiles of its currents The
-Chanteclair sang musically, while the country softened under the shadow
-of a sovereign peace. Julien murmured the name of "Therese." Then, he
-let himself go, and, rolling over, he fell like a bundle into the water,
-sending up great splashes of foam. And the Chanteclair continued its
-song among the grasses.</p>
-
-<p>When the two bodies were found, it was thought there had been a combat,
-and a story was invented forthwith. Julien must have lain in wait for
-little Colombel to avenge his mocking; and he must have jumped into the
-river after killing his enemy with a blow on the temple.</p>
-
-<p>Three months later, Mademoiselle Therese de Marsanne married the young
-Count de Veteuil. She wore a white dress, and her face was beautiful in
-its haughty purity.</p>
-
-<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
-
-<pre style='margin-top:6em'>
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