EPIPHANY ..............................................................................................................................................9

THE MUSTACHE .................................................................................................................................15

MADAME BAPTISTE ..........................................................................................................................17

THE QUESTION OF LATIN ................................................................................................................21

A MEETING ..........................................................................................................................................28

THE BLIND MAN................................................................................................................................34

INDISCRETION ....................................................................................................................................36

A FAMILY AFFAIR.............................................................................................................................40

BESIDE SCHOPENHAUER'S CORPSE.............................................................................................57

"Upon my word," said Colonel Laporte, "although I am old and gouty, my legs as stiff as two pieces of wood,

yet if a pretty woman were to tell me to go through the eye of a needle, I believe I should take a jump at it,

like a clown through a hoop. I shall die like that; it is in the blood. I am an old beau, one of the old school,

and the sight of a woman, a pretty woman, stirs me to the tips of my toes. There!

"We are all very much alike in France in this respect; we still remain knights, knights of love and fortune,

since God has been abolished whose bodyguard we really were. But nobody can ever get woman out of our

hearts; there she is, and there she will remain, and we love her, and shall continue to love her, and go on

committing all kinds of follies on her account as long as there is a France on the map of Europe; and even if

"When I am in the presence of a woman, of a pretty woman, I feel capable of anything. By Jove! when I feel

her looks penetrating me, her confounded looks which set your blood on fire, I should like to do I don't know

what; to fight a duel, to have a row, to smash the furniture, in order to show that I am the strongest, the

"But I am not the only one, certainly not; the whole French army is like me, I swear to you. From the

common soldier to the general, we all start out, from the van to the rear guard, when there is a woman in the

case, a pretty woman. Do you remember what Joan of Arc made us do formerly? Come. I will make a bet that

if a pretty woman had taken command of the army on the eve of Sedan, when Marshal MacMahon was

wounded, we should have broken through the Prussian lines, by Jove! and had a drink out of their guns.

"It was not a Trochu, but a SainteGenevieve, who was needed in Paris; and I remember a little anecdote of

"I was a captain, a simple captain, at the time, and I was in command of a detachment of scouts, who were

retreating through a district which swarmed with Prussians. We were surrounded, pursued, tired out and half

dead with fatigue and hunger, but we were bound to reach BarsurTain before the morrow, otherwise we

should be shot, cut down, massacred. I do not know how we managed to escape so far. However, we had ten

leagues to go during the night, ten leagues through the night, ten leagues through the snow, and with empty

"We had eaten nothing since the day before, and the whole day long we remained hidden in a barn, huddled

close together, so as not to feel the cold so much, unable to speak or even move, and sleeping by fits and

"It was dark by five o'clock, that wan darkness of the snow, and I shook my men. Some of them would not

get up; they were almost incapable of moving or of standing upright; their joints were stiff from cold and

"Before us there was a large expanse of flat, bare country; the snow was still falling like a curtain, in large,

white flakes, which concealed everything under a thick, frozen coverlet, a coverlet of frozen wool One might

"They looked at the thick white flakes that were coming down, and they seemed to think: 'We have had

enough of this; we may just as well die here!' Then I took out my revolver and said:

"'I will shoot the first man who flinches.' And so they set off, but very slowly, like men whose legs were of

very little use to them, and I sent four of them three hundred yards ahead to scout, and the others followed

pellmell, walking at random and without any order. I put the strongest in the rear, with orders to quicken the

"The snow seemed as if it were going to bury us alive; it powdered our kepis and cloaks without melting, and

made phantoms of us, a kind of spectres of dead, weary soldiers. I said to myself: 'We shall never get out of

"Sometimes we had to stop for a few minutes, on account of those who could not follow us, and then we

heard nothing except the falling snow, that vague, almost undiscernible sound made by the falling flakes.

Some of the men shook themselves, others did not move, and so I gave the order to set off again. They

shouldered their rifles, and with weary feet we resumed our march, when suddenly the scouts fell back.

Something had alarmed them; they had heard voices in front of them. I sent forward six men and a sergeant

"All at once a shrill cry, a woman's cry, pierced through the heavy silence of the snow, and in a few minutes

they brought back two prisoners, an old man and a girl, whom I questioned in a low voice. They were

escaping from the Prussians, who had occupied their house during the evening and had got drunk. The father

was alarmed on his daughter's account, and, without even telling their servants, they had made their escape in

the darkness. I saw immediately that they belonged to the better class. I invited them to accompany us, and

"It had ceased snowing, the stars appeared and the cold became intense. The girl, who was leaning on her

father's arm, walked unsteadily as though in pain, and several times she murmured:

"'I have no feeling at all in my feet'; and I suffered more than she did to see that poor little woman dragging

"The old man wanted to carry her, but he could not even lift her up, and she sank to the ground with a deep

sigh. We all gathered round her, and, as for me, I stamped my foot in perplexity, not knowing what to do, and

being unwilling to abandon that man and girl like that, when suddenly one of the soldiers, a Parisian whom

"'Come, comrades, we must carry the young lady, otherwise we shall not show ourselves Frenchmen,

"I really believe that I swore with pleasure. 'That is very good of you, my children,' I said; 'and I will take my

"We could indistinctly see, through the darkness, the trees of a little wood on the left. Several of the men

"'Who will lend his cape? It is for a pretty girl, comrades,' Pratique said, and ten cloaks were thrown to him.

In a moment the girl was lying, warm and comfortable, among them, and was raised upon six shoulders. I

"We started off much more briskly, as if we had had a drink of wine, and I even heard some jokes. A woman

is quite enough to electrify Frenchmen, you see. The soldiers, who had become cheerful and warm, had

almost reformed their ranks, and an old 'franctireur' who was following the litter, waiting for his turn to

replace the first of his comrades who might give out, said to one of his neighbors, loud enough for me to hear:

"'I am not a young man now, but by , there is nothing like the women to put courage into you!'

"We went on, almost without stopping, until three o'clock in the morning, when suddenly our scouts fell back

once more, and soon the whole detachment showed nothing but a vague shadow on the ground, as the men

lay on the snow. I gave my orders in a low voice, and heard the harsh, metallic sound of the cocking, of rifles.

For there, in the middle of the plain, some strange object was moving about. It looked like some enormous

animal running about, now stretching out like a serpent, now coiling itself into a ball, darting to the right,

then to the left, then stopping, and presently starting off again. But presently that wandering shape came

nearer, and I saw a dozen lancers at full gallop, one behind the other. They had lost their way and were trying

"They were so near by that time that I could hear the loud breathing of their horses, the clinking of their

"Fifty rifle shots broke the stillness of the night, then there were four or five reports, and at last one single

shot was heard, and when the smoke had cleared away, we saw that the twelve men and nine horses had

fallen. Three of the animals were galloping away at a furious pace, and one of them was dragging the dead

body of its rider, which rebounded violently from the ground; his foot had caught in the stirrup.

"One of the soldiers behind me gave a terrible laugh and said: 'There will be some widows there!'

"'It is nothing, mademoiselle,' I replied; 'we have got rid of a dozen Prussians!'

"'Poor fellows!' she said. But as she was cold, she quickly disappeared beneath the cloaks again, and we

started off once more. We marched on for a long time, and at last the sky began to grow lighter. The snow

became quite clear, luminous and glistening, and a rosy tint appeared in the east. Suddenly a voice in the

"The whole detachment halted, and I advanced to give the countersign. We had reached the French lines, and,

as my men defiled before the outpost, a commandant on horseback, whom I had informed of what had taken

place, asked in a sonorous voice, as he saw the litter pass him: 'What have you in there?'

"And immediately a small head covered with light hair appeared, dishevelled and smiling, and replied:

"At this the men raised a hearty laugh, and we felt quite lighthearted, while Pratique, who was walking by

"'Vive la France!' And I felt really affected. I do not know why, except that I thought it a pretty and gallant

"It seemed to me as if we had just saved the whole of France and had done something that other men could

not have done, something simple and really patriotic. I shall never forget that little face, you may be sure; and

if I had to give my opinion about abolishing drums, trumpets and bugles, I should propose to replace them in

every regiment by a pretty girl, and that would be even better than playing the 'Marseillaise: By Jove! it

would put some spirit into a trooper to have a Madonna like that, a live Madonna, by the colonel's side."

He was silent for a few moments and then continued, with an air of conviction, and nodding his head:

Fifteen years had passed since I was at Virelogne. I returned there in the autumn to shoot with my friend

I loved that district. It is one of those delightful spots which have a sensuous charm for the eyes. You love it

with a physical love. We, whom the country enchants, keep tender memories of certain springs, certain

woods, certain pools, certain hills seen very often which have stirred us like joyful events. Sometimes our

thoughts turn back to a corner in a forest, or the end of a bank, or an orchard filled with flowers, seen but a

single time on some bright day, yet remaining in our hearts like the image of certain women met in the street

on a spring morning in their light, gauzy dresses, leaving in soul and body an unsatisfied desire which is not

At Virelogne I loved the whole countryside, dotted with little woods and crossed by brooks which sparkled in

the sun and looked like veins carrying blood to the earth. You fished in them for crawfish, trout and eels.

Divine happiness! You could bathe in places and you often found snipe among the high grass which grew

I was stepping along light as a goat, watching my two dogs running ahead of me, Serval, a hundred metres to

my right, was beating a field of lucerne. I turned round by the thicket which forms the boundary of the wood

Suddenly I remembered it as I had seen it the last time, in 1869, neat, covered with vines, with chickens

before the door. What is sadder than a dead house, with its skeleton standing bare and sinister?

I also recalled that inside its doors, after a very tiring day, the good woman had given me a glass of wine to

drink and that Serval had told me the history of its people. The father, an old poacher, had been killed by the

gendarmes. The son, whom I had once seen, was a tall, dry fellow who also passed for a fierce slayer of

When war was declared the son Sauvage, who was then thirtythree years old, enlisted, leaving his mother

alone in the house. People did not pity the old woman very much because she had money; they knew it.

She remained entirely alone in that isolated dwelling, so far from the village, on the edge of the wood. She

was not afraid, however, being of the same strain as the men folka hardy old woman, tall and thin, who

seldom laughed and with whom one never jested. The women of the fields laugh but little in any case, that is

men's business. But they themselves have sad and narrowed hearts, leading a melancholy, gloomy life. The

peasants imbibe a little noisy merriment at the tavern, but their helpmates always have grave, stern

countenances. The muscles of their faces have never learned the motions of laughter.

Mother Sauvage continued her ordinary existence in her cottage, which was soon covered by the snows. She

came to the village once a week to get bread and a little meat. Then she returned to her house. As there was

talk of wolves, she went out with a gun upon her shoulderher son's gun, rusty and with the butt worn by

the rubbing of the handand she was a strange sight, the tall "Sauvage," a little bent, going with slow strides

over the snow, the muzzle of the piece extending beyond the black headdress, which confined her head and

One day a Prussian force arrived. It was billeted upon the inhabitants, according to the property and resources

They were four great fellows with fair complexion, blond beards and blue eyes, who had not grown thin in

spite of the fatigue which they had endured already and who also, though in a conquered country, had

remained kind and gentle. Alone with this aged woman, they showed themselves full of consideration,

sparing her, as much as they could, all expense and fatigue. They could be seen, all four of them, making

their toilet at the well in their shirtsleeves in the gray dawn, splashing with great swishes of water their

pinkwhite northern skin, while La Mere Sauvage went and came, preparing their soup. They would be seen

cleaning the kitchen, rubbing the tiles, splitting wood, peeling potatoes, doing up all the housework like four

But the old woman thought always of her own son, so tall and thin, with his hooked nose and his brown eyes

and his heavy mustache which made a roll of black hair upon his lip. She asked every day of each of the

soldiers who were installed beside her hearth: "Do you know where the French marching regiment, No. 23,

They invariably answered, "No, we don't know, don't know a thing at all." And, understanding her pain and

her uneasinessthey who had mothers, too, there at homethey rendered her a thousand little services. She

loved them well, moreover, her four enemies, since the peasantry have no patriotic hatred; that belongs to the

upper class alone. The humble, those who pay the most because they are poor and because every new burden

crushes them down; those who are killed in masses, who make the true cannon's prey because they are so

many; those, in fine, who suffer most cruelly the atrocious miseries of war because they are the feeblest and

offer least resistancethey hardly understand at all those bellicose ardors, that excitable sense of honor or

those pretended political combinations which in six months exhaust two nations, the conqueror with the

Now, one morning, when the old woman was alone in the house, she observed, far off on the plain, a man

coming toward her dwelling. Soon she recognized him; it was the postman to distribute the letters. He gave

her a folded paper and she drew out of her case the spectacles which she used for sewing. Then she read:

I took his watch, which was in his pocket, to bring it back to you when the war is done. CESAIRE RIVOT,

She did not cry at all. She remained motionless, so overcome and stupefied that she did not even suffer as yet.

She thought: "There's Victor killed now." Then little by little the tears came to her eyes and the sorrow filled

her heart. Her thoughts came, one by one, dreadful, torturing. She would never kiss him again, her child, her

big boy, never again! The gendarmes had killed the father, the Prussians had killed the son. He had been cut

in two by a cannonball. She seemed to see the thing, the horrible thing: the head falling, the eyes open,

while he chewed the corner of his big mustache as he always did in moments of anger.

What had they done with his body afterward? If they had only let her have her boy back as they had brought

But she heard a noise of voices. It was the Prussians returning from the village. She hid her letter very

quickly in her pocket, and she received them quietly, with her ordinary face, having had time to wipe her

They were laughing, all four, delighted, for they brought with them a fine rabbitstolen, doubtlessand

She set herself to work at once to prepare breakfast, but when it came to killing the rabbit, her heart failed

her. And yet it was not the first. One of the soldiers struck it down with a blow of his fist behind the ears.

The beast once dead, she skinned the red body, but the sight of the blood which she was touching, and which

covered her hands, and which she felt cooling and coagulating, made her tremble from head to foot, and she

She sat down at table with the Prussians, but she could not eat, not even a mouthful. They devoured the rabbit

without bothering themselves about her. She looked at them sideways, without speaking, her face so

All of a sudden she said: "I don't even know your names, and here's a whole month that we've been together."

That was not sufficient; she had them written for her on a paper, with the addresses of their families, and,

resting her spectacles on her great nose, she contemplated that strange handwriting, then folded the sheet and

put it in her pocket, on top of the letter which told her of the death of her son.

They were astonished at her taking all this trouble; she explained to them that thus they would not be so cold;

and they helped her. They heaped the stacks of hay as high as the straw roof, and in that manner they made a

sort of great chamber with four walls of fodder, warm and perfumed, where they should sleep splendidly.

At dinner one of them was worried to see that La Mere Sauvage still ate nothing. She told him that she had

pains in her stomach. Then she kindled a good fire to warm herself, and the four Germans ascended to their

As soon as they closed the trapdoor the old woman removed the ladder, then opened the outside door

noiselessly and went back to look for more bundles of straw, with which she filled her kitchen. She went

barefoot in the snow, so softly that no sound was heard. From time to time she listened to the sonorous and

When she judged her preparations to be sufficient, she threw one of the bundles into the fireplace, and when

it was alight she scattered it over all the others. Then she went outside again and looked.

In a few seconds the whole interior of the cottage was illumined with a brilliant light and became a frightful

brasier, a gigantic fiery furnace, whose glare streamed out of the narrow window and threw a glittering beam

Then a great cry issued from the top of the house; it was a clamor of men shouting heartrending calls of

anguish and of terror. Finally the trapdoor having given way, a whirlwind of fire shot up into the loft, pierced

the straw roof, rose to the sky like the immense flame of a torch, and all the cottage flared.

Nothing more was heard therein but the crackling of the fire, the cracking of the walls, the falling of the

rafters. Suddenly the roof fell in and the burning carcass of the dwelling hurled a great plume of sparks into

The country, all white, lit up by the fire, shone like a cloth of silver tinted with red.

The old "Sauvage" stood before her ruined dwelling, armed with her gun, her son's gun, for fear one of those

When she saw that it was ended, she threw her weapon into the brasier. A loud report followed.

She reached her bony arm toward the red heap of fire which was almost out and answered with a strong

They did not believe her, they thought that the sudden disaster had made her crazy. While all pressed round

and listened, she told the story from beginning to end, from the arrival of the letter to the last shriek of the

When she had finished, she drew two pieces of paper from her pocket, and, in order to distinguish them by

the last gleams of the fire, she again adjusted her spectacles. Then she said, showing one:

"That, that is the death of Victor." Showing the other, she added, indicating the red ruins with a bend of the

head: "Here are their names, so that you can write home." She quietly held a sheet of paper out to the officer,

"You must write how it happened, and you must say to their mothers that it was I who did that, Victoire

The officer shouted some orders in German. They seized her, they threw her against the walls of her house,

still hot. Then twelve men drew quickly up before her, at twenty paces. She did not move. She had

An order rang out, followed instantly by a long report. A belated shot went off by itself, after the others.

The Prussian officer approached. She was almost cut in two, and in her withered hand she held her letter

"It was by way of reprisal that the Germans destroyed the chateau of the district, which belonged to me."

I thought of the mothers of those four fine fellows burned in that house and of the horrible heroism of that

I should say I did remember that Epiphany supper during the war! exclaimed Count de Garens, an army

I was quartermaster of cavalry at the time, and for a fortnight had been scouting in front of the German

advance guard. The evening before we had cut down a few Uhlans and had lost three men, one of whom was

Well, on that day my commanding officer ordered me to take six troopers and to go and occupy the village of

Porterin, where there had been five skirmishes in three weeks, and to hold it all night. There were not twenty

houses left standing, not a dozen houses in that wasps' nest. So I took ten troopers and set out about four

o'clock, and at five o'clock, while it was still pitch dark, we reached the first houses of Porterin. I halted and

ordered Marchasyou know Pierre de Marchas, who afterward married little MartelAuvelin, the daughter

of the Marquis de Martel Auvelinto go alone into the village, and to report to me what he saw.

I had selected nothing but volunteers, all men of good family. It is pleasant when on duty not to be forced to

be on intimate terms with unpleasant fellows. This Marchas was as smart as possible, cunning as a fox and

supple as a serpent. He could scent the Prussians as a dog can scent a hare, could discover food where we

should have died of hunger without him, and obtained information from everybody, and information which

In ten minutes he returned. "All right," he said; "there have been no Prussians here for three days. It is a

sinister place, is this village. I have been talking to a Sister of Mercy, who is caring for four or five wounded

I ordered them to ride on, and we entered the principal street. On the right and left we could vaguely see

roofless walls, which were hardly visible in the profound darkness. Here and there a light was burning in a

room; some family had remained to keep its house standing as well as they were able; a family of brave or of

poor people. The rain began to fall, a fine, icy cold rain, which froze as it fell on our cloaks. The horses

stumbled against stones, against beams, against furniture. Marchas guided us, going before us on foot, and

"Where are you taking us to?" I asked him. And he replied: "I have a place for us to lodge in, and a rare good

one." And we presently stopped before a small house, evidently belonging to some proprietor of the middle

class. It stood on the street, was quite inclosed, and had a garden in the rear.

Marchas forced open the lock by means of a big stone which he picked up near the garden gate; then he

mounted the steps, smashed in the front door with his feet and shoulders, lit a bit of wax candle, which he

was never without, and went before us into the comfortable apartments of some rich private individual,

guiding us with admirable assurance, as if he lived in this house which he now saw for the first time.

Two troopers remained outside to take care of our horses, and Marchas said to stout Ponderel, who followed

him: "The stables must be on the left; I saw that as we came in; go and put the animals up there, for we do not

need them"; and then, turning to me, he said: "Give your orders, confound it all!"

This fellow always astonished me, and I replied with a laugh: "I will post my sentinels at the country

"Very well. Leave me four to look after provisions, to do the cooking and to set the table. I will go and find

I went off, to reconnoitre the deserted streets until they ended in the open country, so as to post my sentries

Half an hour later I was back, and found Marchas lounging in a great easychair, the covering of which he

had taken off, from love of luxury, as he said. He was warming his feet at the fire and smoking an excellent

cigar, whose perfume filled the room. He was alone, his elbows resting on the arms of the chair, his head

sunk between his shoulders, his cheeks flushed, his eyes bright, and looking delighted.

I heard the noise of plates and dishes in the next room, and Marchas said to me, smiling in a con tented

manner: "This is famous; I found the champagne under the flight of steps outside, the brandyfifty bottles

of the very finest in the kitchen garden under a pear tree, which did not seem to me to be quite straight when I

looked at it by the light of my lantern. As for solids, we have two fowls, a goose, a duck, and three pigeons.

I sat down opposite him, and the fire in the grate was burning my nose and cheeks. "Where did you find this

wood?" I asked. "Splendid wood," he replied. "The owner's carriage. It is the paint which is causing all this

I laughed, for I saw the creature was funny, and he went on: "Fancy this being the Epiphany! I have had a

bean put into the goose dressing; but there is no queen; it is really very annoying!" And I repeated like an

echo: "It is annoying, but what do you want me to do in the matter?" "To find some, of course." "Some

women. Women?you must be mad?" "I managed to find the brandy under the pear tree, and the

champagne under the steps; and yet there was nothing to guide me, while as for you, a petticoat is a sure bait.

He looked so grave, so convinced, that I could not tell whether he was joking or not, and so I replied: "Look

here, Marchas, are you having a joke with me?" "I never joke on duty." "But where the devil do you expect

me to find any women?" "Where you like; there must be two or three remaining in the neighborhood, so

"Do you want an idea?" "Yes." "Go and see the priest." "The priest? What for?" "Ask him to supper, and beg

But Marchas continued with extraordinary gravity: "I am not laughing; go and find the priest and tell him

how we are situated, and, as he must be horribly dull, he will come. But tell him that we want one woman at

least, a lady, of course, since we, are all men of the world. He is sure to know his female parishioners on the

tips of his fingers, and if there is one to suit us, and you manage it well, he will suggest her to you."

"Come, come, Marchas, what are you thinking of?" "My dear Garens, you can do this quite well. It will even

be very funny. We are well bred, by Jove! and we will put on our most distinguished manners and our

grandest style. Tell the abbe who we are, make him laugh, soften his heart, coax him and persuade him!"

He drew his chair close to mine, and as he knew my special weakness, the scamp continued: "Just think what

a swaggering thing it will be to do and how amusing to tell about; the whole army will talk about it, and it

I hesitated, for the adventure rather tempted me, and he persisted: "Come, my little Garens. You are the head

of this detachment, and you alone can go and call on the head of the church in this neighborhood. I beg of

you to go, and I promise you that after the war I will relate the whole affair in verse in the Revue de Deux

Mondes. You owe this much to your men, for you have made them march enough during the last month."

I got up at last and asked: "Where is the priest's house?" "Take the second turning at the end of the street, you

will see an avenue, and at the end of the avenue you will find the church. The parsonage is beside it." As I

I discovered the ecclesiastic's little house without any difficulty; it was by the side of a large, ugly brick

church. I knocked at the door with my fist, as there was neither bell nor knocker, and a loud voice from inside

I heard the noise of bolts and of a key being turned, and found myself face to face with a tall priest with a

large stomach, the chest of a prizefighter, formidable hands projecting from turnedup sleeves, a red face,

and the look of a kind man. I gave him a military salute and said: "Goodday, Monsieur le Cure."

He had feared a surprise, some marauders' ambush, and he smiled as he replied: "Goodday, my friend; come

in." I followed him into a small room with a red tiled floor, in which a small fire was burning, very different

to Marchas' furnace, and he gave me a chair and said: "What can I do for you?" "Monsieur, allow me first of

all to introduce myself"; and I gave him my card, which he took and read half aloud: "Le Comte de Garens."

I continued: "There are eleven of us here, Monsieur l'Abbe, five on picket duty, and six installed at the house

of an unknown inhabitant. The names of the six are: Garens, myself; Pierre de Marchas, Ludovic de Ponderel,

Baron d'Streillis, Karl Massouligny, the painter's son, and Joseph Herbon, a young musician. I have come to

ask you, in their name and my own, to do us the honor of supping with us. It is an Epiphany supper, Monsieur

The priest smiled and murmured: "It seems to me to be hardly a suitable occasion for amusing one's self."

And I replied: "We are fighting during the day, monsieur. Fourteen of our comrades have been killed in a

month, and three fell as late as yesterday. It is war time. We stake our life at every moment; have we not,

therefore, the right to amuse ourselves freely? We are Frenchmen, we like to laugh, and we can laugh

everywhere. Our fathers laughed on the scaffold! This evening we should like to cheer ourselves up a little,

like gentlemen, and not like soldiers; you understand me, I hope. Are we wrong?"

He replied quickly: "You are quite right, my friend, and I accept your invitation with great pleasure." Then he

An old bent, wrinkled, horrible peasant woman appeared and said: "What do you want?" "I shall not dine at

home, my daughter." "Where are you going to dine then?" "With some gentlemen, the hussars."

I felt inclined to say: "Bring your servant with you," just to see Marchas' face, but I did not venture, and

continued: "Do you know any one among your parishioners, male or female, whom I could invite as well?"

I persisted: "Nobody! Come, monsieur, think; it would be very nice to have some ladies, I mean to say, some

married couples! I know nothing about your parishioners. The baker and his wife, the grocer, thethe

thewatchmakertheshoemakerthethe druggist with Mrs. Druggist. We have a good spread and

plenty of wine, and we should be enchanted to leave pleasant recollections of ourselves with the people here."

The priest thought again for a long time, and then said resolutely: "No, there is nobody." I began to laugh.

"By Jove, Monsieur le Cure, it is very annoying not to have an Epiphany queen, for we have the bean. Come,

think. Is there not a married mayor, or a married deputy mayor, or a married municipal councillor or a

schoolmaster?" "No, all the ladies have gone away." "What, is there not in the whole place some good

tradesman's wife with her good tradesman, to whom we might give this pleasure, for it would be a pleasure to

But, suddenly, the cure began to laugh, and laughed so violently that he fairly shook, and presently

exclaimed: "Ha! ha! ha! I have got what you want, yes. I have got what you want! Ha! ha! ha! We will laugh

and enjoy ourselves, my children; we will have some fun. How pleased the ladies will be, I say, how

I described the house, and he understood where it was. "Very good," he said. "It belongs to Monsieur

BertinLavaille. I will be there in half an hour, with four ladies! Ha! ha! ha! four ladies!"

He went out with me, still laughing, and left me, repeating: "That is capital; in half an hour at

I returned quickly, very much astonished and very much puzzled. "Covers for how many?" Marchas asked, as

soon as he saw me. "Eleven. There are six of us hussars, besides the priest and four ladies." He was

thunderstruck, and I was triumphant. He repeated: "Four ladies! Did you say, four ladies?" "I said four

women." "Real women?" "Real women." "Well, accept my compliments!" "I will, for I deserve them."

He got out of his armchair, opened the door, and I saw a beautiful white tablecloth on a long table, round

which three hussars in blue aprons were setting out the plates and glasses. "There are some women coming!"

Marchas cried. And the three men began to dance and to cheer with all their might.

Everything was ready, and we were waiting. We waited for nearly an hour, while a delicious smell of roast

poultry pervaded the whole house. At last, however, a knock against the shutters made us all jump up at the

same moment. Stout Ponderel ran to open the door, and in less than a minute a little Sister of Mercy appeared

in the doorway. She was thin, wrinkled and timid, and successively greeted the four bewildered hussars who

saw her enter. Behind her, the noise of sticks sounded on the tiled floor in the vestibule, and as soon as she

had come into the drawing room, I saw three old heads in white caps, following each other one by one, who

came in, swaying with different movements, one inclining to the right, while the other inclined to the left.

And three worthy women appeared, limping, dragging their legs behind them, crippled by illness and

deformed through old age, three infirm old women, past service, the only three pensioners who were able to

She had turned round to her invalids, full of anxiety for them, and then, seeing my quartermaster's stripes, she

said to me: "I am much obliged to you for thinking of these poor women. They have very little pleasure in

life, and you are at the same time giving them a great treat and doing them a great honor."

I saw the priest, who had remained in the dark hallway, and was laughing heartily, and I began to laugh in my

turn, especially when I saw Marchas' face. Then, motioning the nun to the seats, I said:

"Sit down, sister; we are very proud and very happy that you have accepted our unpretentious invitation."

She took three chairs which stood against the wall, set them before the fire, led her three old women to them,

settled them on them, took their sticks and shawls, which she put into a corner, and then, pointing to the first,

a thin woman with an enormous stomach, who was evidently suffering from the dropsy, she said: "This is

Mother Paumelle; whose husband was killed by falling from a roof, and whose son died in Africa; she is sixty

years old." Then she pointed to another, a tall woman, whose head trembled unceasingly: "This is Mother

JeanJean, who is sixtyseven. She is nearly blind, for her face was terribly singed in a fire, and her right leg

Then she pointed to the third, a sort of dwarf, with protruding, round, stupid eyes, which she rolled

incessantly in all directions, "This is La Putois, an idiot. She is only fortyfour."

I bowed to the three women as if I were being presented to some royal highnesses, and turning to the priest, I

said: "You are an excellent man, Monsieur l'Abbe, to whom all of us here owe a debt of gratitude."

Everybody was laughing, in fact, except Marchas, who seemed furious, and just then Karl Massouligny cried:

I made her go first with the priest, then I helped up Mother Paumelle, whose arm I took and dragged her into

the next room, which was no easy task, for she seemed heavier than a lump of iron.

Stout Ponderel gave his arm to Mother JeanJean, who bemoaned her crutch, and little Joseph Herbon took

the idiot, La Putois, to the diningroom, which was filled with the odor of the viands.

As soon as we were opposite our plates, the sister clapped her hands three times, and, with the precision of

soldiers presenting arms, the women made a rapid sign of the cross, and then the priest slowly repeated the

Benedictus in Latin. Then we sat down, and the two fowls appeared, brought in by Marchas, who chose to

But I cried: "Bring the champagne at once!" and a cork flew out with the noise of a pistol, and in spite of the

resistance of the priest and of the kind sister, the three hussars, sitting by the side of the three invalids,

Massouligny, who possessed the faculty of making himself at home, and of being on good terms with every

one, wherever he was, made love to Mother Paumelle in the drollest manner. The dropsical woman, who had

retained her cheerfulness in spite of her misfortunes, answered him banteringly in a high falsetto voice which

appeared as if it were put on, and she laughed so heartily at her neighbor's jokes that it was quite alarming.

Little Herbon had seriously undertaken the task of making the idiot drunk, and Baron d'Streillis, whose wits

were not always particularly sharp, was questioning old JeanJean about the life, the habits, and the rules of

"Oh! oh! you will make her ill; pray do not make her laugh like that, monsieur. Oh! monsieur" Then she

got up and rushed at Herbon to take from him a full glass which he was hastily emptying down La Putois'

throat, while the priest shook with laughter, and said to the sister: "Never mind; just this once, it will not hurt

After the two fowls they ate the duck, which was flanked by the three pigeons and the blackbird, and then the

goose appeared, smoking, golden brown, and diffusing a warm odor of hot, browned roast meat. La

Paumelle, who was getting lively, clapped her hands; La JeanJean left off answering the baron's numerous

questions, and La Putois uttered. grunts of pleasure, half cries and half sighs, as little children do when one

shows them candy. "Allow me to take charge of this animal," the cure said. "I understand these sort of

operations better than most people." "Certainly, Monsieur l'Abbe," and the sister said: "How would it be to

I turned to Marchas : "Open the window for a minute." He did so; the cold outer air as it came in made the

candles flare, and the steam from the goose, which the cure was scientifically carving, with a table napkin

round his neck, whirl about. We watched him doing it, without speaking now, for we were interested in his

attractive handiwork, and seized with renewed appetite at the sight of that enormous goldenbrown bird,

whose limbs fell one after another into the brown gravy at the bottom of the dish. At that moment, in the

midst of that greedy silence which kept us all attentive, the distant report of a shot came in at the open

I started to my feet so quickly that my chair fell down behind me, and I shouted: "To saddle, all of you! You,

Marches, take two men and go and see what it is. I shall expect you back here in five minutes." And while the

three riders went off at full gallop through the night, I got into the saddle with my three remaining hussars, in

front of the steps of the villa, while the cure, the sister and the three old women showed their frightened faces

We heard nothing more, except the barking of a dog in the distance. The rain had ceased, and it was cold,

very cold, and soon I heard the gallop of a horse, of a single horse, coming back. It was Marchas, and I called

out to him: "Well?" "It is nothing; Francois has wounded an old peasant who refused to answer his challenge:

'Who goes there?' and who continued to advance in spite of the order to keep off; but they are bringing him

I gave orders for the horses to be put back in the stable, and I sent my two soldiers to meet the others, and

returned to the house. Then the cure, Marchas, and I took a mattress into the room to lay the wounded man

on; the sister tore up a table napkin in order to make lint, while the three frightened women remained huddled

Soon I heard the rattle of sabres on the road, and I took a candle to show a light to the men who were

returning; and they soon appeared, carrying that inert, soft, long, sinister object which a human body becomes

They put the wounded man on the mattress that had been prepared for him, and I saw at the first glance that

he was dying. He had the death rattle and was spitting up blood, which ran out of the corners of his mouth at

every gasp. The man was covered with blood! His cheeks, his beard, his hair, his neck and his clothes seemed

to have been soaked, to have been dipped in a red tub; and that blood stuck to him, and had become a dull

The wounded man, wrapped up in a large shepherd's cloak, occasionally opened his dull, vacant eyes, which

seemed stupid with astonishment, like those of animals wounded by a sportsman, which fall at his feet, more

The cure exclaimed: "Ah, it is old Placide, the shepherd from Les Moulins. He is deaf, poor man, and heard

nothing. Ah! Oh, God! they have killed the unhappy man!" The sister had opened his blouse and shirt, and

was looking at a little blue hole in his chest, which was not bleeding any more. "There is nothing to be done,"

The shepherd was gasping terribly and bringing up blood with every last breath, and in his throat, to the very

depth of his lungs, they could hear an ominous and continued gurgling. The cure, standing in front of him,

raised his right hand, made the sign of the cross, and in a slow and solemn voice pronounced the Latin words

which purify men's souls, but before they were finished, the old man's body trembled violently, as if

When I turned round, I saw a sight which was even more horrible than the death struggle of this unfortunate

man; the three old women were standing up huddled close together, hideous, and grimacing with fear and

horror. I went up to them, and they began to utter shrill screams, while La Jean Jean, whose burned leg

Sister SaintBenedict left the dead man, ran up to her infirm old women, and without a word or a look for

me, wrapped their shawls round them, gave them their crutches, pushed them to the door, made them go out,

I saw that I could not even let a hussar accompany them, for the mere rattle of a sword would have sent them

The cure was still looking at the dead man; but at last he turned round to me and said:

I have no news. We live in the drawingroom, looking out at the rain. We cannot go out in this frightful

weather, so we have theatricals. How stupid they are, my dear, these drawing entertainments in the repertory

of real life! All is forced, coarse, heavy. The jokes are like cannon balls, smashing everything in their

passage. No wit, nothing natural, no sprightliness, no elegance. These literary men, in truth, know nothing of

society. They are perfectly ignorant of how people think and talk in our set. I do not mind if they despise our

customs, our conventionalities, but I do not forgive them for not knowing them. When they want to be

humorous they make puns that would do for a barrack; when they try to be jolly, they give us jokes that they

must have picked up on the outer boulevard in those beer houses artists are supposed to frequent, where one

So we have taken to Theatricals. As we are only two women, my husband takes the part of a soubrette, and,

in order to do that, he has shaved off his mustache. You cannot imagine, my dear Lucy, how it changes him! I

no longer recognize himby day or at night. If he did not let it grow again I think I should no longer love

In fact, a man without a mustache is no longer a man. I do not care much for a beard; it almost always makes

a man look untidy. But a mustache, oh, a mustache is indispensable to a manly face. No, you would never

believe how these little hair bristles on the upper lip are a relief to the eye and good in other ways. I have

thought over the matter a great deal but hardly dare to write my thoughts. Words look so different on paper

and the subject is so difficult, so delicate, so dangerous that it requires infinite skill to tackle it.

Well, when my husband appeared, shaven, I understood at once that I never could fall in love with a strolling

actor nor a preacher, even if it were Father Didon, the most charming of all! Later when I was alone with him

(my husband) it was worse still. Oh, my dear Lucy, never let yourself be kissed by a man without a mustache;

their kisses have no flavor, none whatever! They no longer have the charm, the mellowness and the snap

Imagine placing to your lips a piece of dryor moistparchment. That is the kiss of the man without a

Whence comes this charm of the mustache, will you tell me? Do I know myself? It tickles your face, you feel

it approaching your mouth and it sends a little shiver through you down to the tips of your toes.

And on your neck! Have you ever felt a mustache on your neck? It intoxicates you, makes you feel creepy,

goes to the tips of your fingers. You wriggle, shake your shoulders, toss back your head. You wish to get

away and at the same time to remain there; it is delightful, but irritating. But how good it is!

A lip without a mustache is like a body without clothing; and one must wear clothes, very few, if you like,

I recall a sentence (uttered by a politician) which has been running in my mind for three months. My

husband, who keeps up with the newspapers, read me one evening a very singular speech by our Minister of

Agriculture, who was called M. Meline. He may have been superseded by this time. I do not know.

I was paying no attention, but the name Meline struck me. It recalled, I do not exactly know why, the 'Scenes

de la vie de boheme'. I thought it was about some grisette. That shows how scraps of the speech entered my

mind. This M. Meline was making this statement to the people of Amiens, I believe, and I have ever since

been trying to understand what he meant: "There is no patriotism without agriculture!" Well, I have just

discovered his meaning, and I affirm in my turn that there is no love without a mustache. When you say it

"There is no patriotism without agriculture," said M. Meline, and he was right, that minister; I now

From a very different point of view the mustache is essential. It gives character to the face. It makes a man

look gentle, tender, violent, a monster, a rake, enterprising! The hairy man, who does not shave off his

whiskers, never has a refined look, for his features are concealed; and the shape of the jaw and the chin

The man with a mustache retains his own peculiar expression and his refinement at the same time.

And how many different varieties of mustaches there are! Sometimes they are twisted, curled, coquettish.

Sometimes they are pointed, sharp as needles, and threatening. That kind prefers wine, horses and war.

Sometimes they are enormous, overhanging, frightful. These big ones generally conceal a fine disposition, a

But what I adore above all in the mustache is that it is French, altogether French. It came from our ancestors,

It is boastful, gallant and brave. It sips wine gracefully and knows how to laugh with refinement, while the

I recall something that made me weep all my tears and alsoI see it now made me love a mustache on a

It was during the war, when I was living with my father. I was a young girl then. One day there was a

skirmish near the chateau. I had heard the firing of the cannon and of the artillery all the morning, and that

evening a German colonel came and took up his abode in our house. He left the following day.

My father was informed that there were a number of dead bodies in the fields. He had them brought to our

place so that they might be buried together. They were laid all along the great avenue of pines as fast as they

brought them in, on both sides of the avenue, and as they began to smell unpleasant, their bodies were

covered with earth until the deep trench could be dug. Thus one saw only their heads which seemed to

protrude from the clayey earth and were almost as yellow, with their closed eyes.

I wanted to see them. But when I saw those two rows of frightful faces, I thought I should faint. However, I

began to look at them, one by one, trying to guess what kind of men these had been.

The uniforms were concealed beneath the earth, and yet immediately, yes, immediately, my dear, I

Some of them had shaved on the very day of the battle, as though they wished to be elegant up to the last;

others seemed to have a week's growth, but all wore the French mustache, very plain, the proud mustache that

seems to say: "Do not take me for my bearded friend, little one; I am a brother."

And I cried, oh, I cried a great deal more than I should if I had not recognized them, the poor dead fellows.

It was wrong of me to tell you this. Now I am sad and cannot chatter any longer. Well, goodby, dear Lucy. I

The first thing I did was to look at the clock as I entered the waiting room of the station at Loubain, and I

I had walked twenty miles and felt suddenly tired. Not seeing anything on the station walls to amuse me, I

went outside and stood there racking my brains to think of something to do. The street was a kind of

boulevard, planted with acacias, and on either side a row of houses of varying shape and different styles of

architecture, houses such as one only sees in a small town, and ascended a slight hill, at the extreme end of

From time to time a cat crossed the street and jumped over the gutters carefully. A cur sniffed at every tree

and hunted for scraps from the kitchens, but I did not see a single human being, and I felt listless and

disheartened. What could I do with myself? I was already thinking of the inevitable and interminable visit to

the small cafe at the railway station, where I should have to sit over a glass of undrinkable beer and the

illegible newspaper, when I saw a funeral procession coming out of a side street into the one in which I was,

and the sight of the hearse was a relief to me. It would, at any rate, give me something to do for ten minutes.

Suddenly, however, my curiosity was aroused. The hearse was followed by eight gentlemen, one of whom

was weeping, while the others were chatting together, but there was no priest, and I thought to myself:

"This is a nonreligious funeral," and then I reflected that a town like Loubain must contain at least a

hundred freethinkers, who would have made a point of making a manifestation. What could it be, then? The

rapid pace of the procession clearly proved that the body was to be buried without ceremony, and,

My idle curiosity framed the most complicated surmises, and as the hearse passed me, a strange idea struck

me, which was to follow it, with the eight gentlemen. That would take up my time for an hour, at least, and I

accordingly walked with the others, with a sad look on my face, and, on seeing this, the two last turned round

No doubt they were asking each other whether I belonged to the town, and then they consulted the two in

front of them, who stared at me in turn. This close scrutiny annoyed me, and to put an end to it I went up to

"I beg your pardon, gentlemen, for interrupting your conversation, but, seeing a civil funeral, I have followed

The other gentleman, who evidently wished to tell me all about it, then said: "Yes and no. The clergy have

On hearing this I uttered a prolonged "Ah!" of astonishment. I could not understand it at all, but my obliging

"It is rather a long story. This young woman committed suicide, and that is the reason why she cannot be

buried with any religious ceremony. The gentleman who is walking first, and who is crying, is her husband."

"You surprise and interest me very much, monsieur. Shall I be indiscreet if I ask you to tell me the facts of

the case? If I am troubling you, forget that I have said anything about the matter."

"Not at all, not at all. Let us linger a little behind the others, and I will tell it you, although it is a very sad

story. We have plenty of time before getting to the cemetery, the trees of which you see up yonder, for it is a

"This young woman, Madame Paul Hamot, was the daughter of a wealthy merchant in the neighborhood,

Monsieur Fontanelle. When she was a mere child of eleven, she had a shocking adventure; a footman

attacked her and she nearly died. A terrible criminal case was the result, and the man was sentenced to penal

"The little girl grew up, stigmatized by disgrace, isolated, without any companions; and grownup people

would scarcely kiss her, for they thought that they would soil their lips if they touched her forehead, and she

became a sort of monster, a phenomenon to all the town. People said to each other in a whisper: 'You know,

little Fontanelle,' and everybody turned away in the streets when she passed. Her parents could not even get a

nurse to take her out for a walk, as the other servants held aloof from her, as if contact with her would poison

"It was pitiable to see the poor child go and play every afternoon. She remained quite by herself, standing by

her maid and looking at the other children amusing themselves. Sometimes, yielding to an irresistible desire

to mix with the other children, she advanced timidly, with nervous gestures, and mingled with a group, with

furtive steps, as if conscious of her own disgrace. And immediately the mothers, aunts and nurses would

come running from every seat and take the children entrusted to their care by the hand and drag them brutally

"Little Fontanelle remained isolated, wretched, without understanding what it meant, and then she began to

cry, nearly heartbroken with grief, and then she used to run and hide her head in her nurse's lap, sobbing. "As

she grew up, it was worse still. They kept the girls from her, as if she were stricken with the plague.

Remember that she had nothing to learn, nothing; that she no longer had the right to the symbolical wreath of

orangeflowers; that almost before she could read she had penetrated that redoubtable mystery which

mothers scarcely allow their daughters to guess at, trembling as they enlighten them on the night of their

"When she went through the streets, always accompanied by her governess, as if, her parents feared some

fresh, terrible adventure, with her eyes cast down under the load of that mysterious disgrace which she felt

was always weighing upon her, the other girls, who were not nearly so innocent as people thought, whispered

and giggled as they looked at her knowingly, and immediately turned their heads absently, if she happened to

look at them. People scarcely greeted her; only a few men bowed to her, and the mothers pretended not to see

her, while some young blackguards called her Madame Baptiste, after the name of the footman who had

"Nobody knew the secret torture of her mind, for she hardly ever spoke, and never laughed, and her parents

themselves appeared uncomfortable in her presence, as if they bore her a constant grudge for some

"An honest man would not willingly give his hand to a liberated convict, would he, even if that convict were

his own son? And Monsieur and Madame Fontanelle looked on their daughter as they would have done on a

son who had just been released from the hulks. She was pretty and pale, tall, slender, distinguishedlooking,

and she would have pleased me very much, monsieur, but for that unfortunate affair.

"Well, when a new subprefect was appointed here, eighteen months ago, he brought his private secretary

with him. He was a queer sort of fellow, who had lived in the Latin Quarter, it appears. He saw Mademoiselle

Fontanelle and fell in love with her, and when told of what occurred, he merely said:

'Bah! That is just a guarantee for the future, and I would rather it should have happened before I married her

"He paid his addresses to her, asked for her hand and married her, and then, not being deficient in assurance,

he paid wedding calls, as if nothing had happened. Some people returned them, others did not; but, at last, the

"She adored her husband as if he had been a god; for, you must remember, he had restored her to honor and

to social life, had braved public opinion, faced insults, and, in a word, performed such a courageous act as

"When she became enceinte, and it was known, the most particular people and the greatest sticklers opened

"It is strange, but so it is, and thus everything was going on as well as possible until the other day, which was

the feast of the patron saint of our town. The prefect, surrounded by his staff and the authorities, presided at

the musical competition, and when he had finished his speech the distribution of medals began, which Paul

"As you know, there are always jealousies and rivalries, which make people forget all propriety. All the

ladies of the town were there on the platform, and, in his turn, the bandmaster from the village of Mourmillon

came up. This band was only to receive a secondclass medal, for one cannot give firstclass medals to

everybody, can one? But when the private secretary handed him his badge, the man threw it in his face and

"'You may keep your medal for Baptiste. You owe him a firstclass one, also, just as you do me.'

"There were a number of people there who began to laugh. The common herd are neither charitable nor

refined, and every eye was turned toward that poor lady. Have you ever seen a woman going mad, monsieur?

Well, we were present at the sight! She got up and fell back on her chair three times in succession, as if she

wished to make her escape, but saw that she could not make her way through the crowd, and then another

"And a great uproar, partly of laughter and partly of indignation, arose. The word was repeated over and over

again; people stood on tiptoe to see the unhappy woman's face; husbands lifted their wives up in their arms,

"She did not move now on her state chair, but sat just as if she had been put there for the crowd to look at.

She could not move, nor conceal herself, nor hide her face. Her eyelids blinked quickly, as if a vivid light

were shining on them, and she breathed heavily, like a horse that is going up a steep hill, so that it almost

broke one's heart to see her. Meanwhile, however, Monsieur Hamot had seized the ruffian by the throat, and

they were rolling on the ground together, amid a scene of indescribable confusion, and the ceremony was

"An hour later, as the Hamots were returning home, the young woman, who had not uttered a word since the

insult, but who was trembling as if all her nerves had been set in motion by springs, suddenly sprang over the

parapet of the bridge and threw herself into the river before her husband could prevent her. The water is very

deep under the arches, and it was two hours before her body was recovered. Of course, she was dead."

"It was, perhaps, the best thing she could do under the circumstances. There are some things which cannot be

wiped out, and now you understand why the clergy refused to have her taken into church. Ah! If it had been a

religious funeral the whole town would have been present, but you can understand that her suicide added to

the other affair and made families abstain from attending her funeral; and then, it is not an easy matter here to

We passed through the cemetery gates and I waited, much moved by what I had heard, until the coffin had

been lowered into the grave, before I went up to the poor fellow who was sobbing violently, to press his hand

This subject of Latin that has been dinned into our ears for some time past recalls to my mind a storya

I was finishing my studies with a teacher, in a big central town, at the Institution Robineau, celebrated

through the entire province for the special attention paid there to the study of Latin.

For the past ten years, the Robineau Institute beat the imperial lycee of the town at every competitive

examination, and all the colleges of the subprefecture, and these constant successes were due, they said, to an

He was one of those middleaged men quite gray, whose real age it is impossible to tell, and whose history

we can guess at first glance. Having entered as an usher at twenty into the first institution that presented itself

so that he could proceed to take first his degree of Master of Arts and afterward the degree of Doctor of

Laws, he found himself so enmeshed in this routine that he remained an usher all his life. But his love for

Latin did not leave him and harassed him like an unhealthy passion. He continued to read the poets, the prose

writers, the historians, to interpret them and penetrate their meaning, to comment on them with a

One day, the idea came into his head to oblige all the students in his class to answer him in Latin only; and he

persisted in this resolution until at last they were capable of sustaining an entire conversation with him just as

they would in their mother tongue. He listened to them, as a leader of an orchestra listens to his musicians

"Monsieur Lefrere, Monsieur Lefrere, you are committing a solecism! You forget the rule.

"Monsieur Plantel, your way of expressing yourself is altogether French and in no way Latin. You must

Now, it came to pass that the pupils of the Institution Robineau carried off, at the end of the year, all the

Next year, the principal, a little man, as cunning as an ape, whom he resembled in his grinning and grotesque

appearance, had had printed on his programmes, on his advertisements, and painted on the door of his

"Latin Studies a Specialty. Five first prizes carried off in the five classes of the lycee.

"Two honor prizes at the general examinations in competition with all the lycees and colleges of France."

For ten years the Institution Robineau triumphed in the same fashion. Now my father, allured by these

successes, sent me as a day pupil to Robineau'sor, as we called it, Robinetto or Robinettino'sand made

me take special private lessons from Pere Piquedent at the rate of five francs per hour, out of which the usher

got two francs and the principal three francs. I was then eighteen, and was in the philosophy class.

These private lessons were given in a little room looking out on the street. It so happened that Pere Piquedent,

instead of talking Latin to me, as he did when teaching publicly in the institution, kept telling me his troubles

in French. Without relations, without friends, the poor man conceived an attachment to me, and poured out

He had never for the last ten or fifteen years chatted confidentially with any one.

The other ushers disgusted him. He knew nobody in the town, since he had no time to devote to making

"Not even the nights, my friend, and that is the hardest thing on me. The dream of my life is to have a room

with my own furniture, my own books, little things that belong to myself and which others may not touch.

And I have nothing of my own, nothing except my trousers and my frockcoat, nothing, not even my

mattress and my pillow! I have not four walls to shut myself up in, except when I come to give a lesson in

this room. Do you see what this meansa man forced to spend his life without ever having the right, without

ever finding the time, to shut himself up all alone, no matter where, to think, to reflect, to work, to dream?

Ah! my dear boy, a key, the key of a door which one can lockthis is happiness, mark you, the only

"Here, all day long, teaching all those restless rogues, and during the night the dormitory with the same

restless rogues snoring. And I have to sleep in the bed at the end of two rows of beds occupied by these

youngsters whom I must look after. I can never be alone, never! If I go out I find the streets full of people,

and, when I am tired of walking, I go into some cafe crowded with smokers and billiard players. I tell you

"What, my little friend? I am not a shoemaker, or a joiner, or a hatter, or a baker, or a hairdresser. I only

know Latin, and I have no diploma which would enable me to sell my knowledge at a high price. If I were a

doctor I would sell for a hundred francs what I now sell for a hundred sous; and I would supply it probably of

"I have no rest in life except in the hours spent with you. Don't be afraid! you'll lose nothing by that. I'll make

it up to you in the classroom by making you speak twice as much Latin as the others."

One day, I grew bolder, and offered him a cigarette. He stared at me in astonishment at first, then he gave a

And we went and leaned our elbows on the windowsill looking on the street, holding concealed in our hands

the little rolls pf tobacco. Just opposite to us was a laundry. Four women in loose white waists were passing

hot, heavy irons over the linen spread out before them, from which a warm steam arose.

Suddenly, another, a fifth, carrying on her arm a large basket which made her stoop, came out to take the

customers their shirts, their handkerchiefs, and their sheets. She stopped on the threshold as if she were

already fatigued; then, she raised her eyes, smiled as she saw us smoking, flung at us, with her left hand,

which was free, the sly kiss characteristic of a freeandeasy workingwoman, and went away at a slow

She was a woman of about twenty, small, rather thin, pale, rather pretty, with a roguish air and laughing eyes

And he spoke with emotion about the misery of the people. He had a heart which swelled with lofty

democratic sentiment, and he referred to the fatiguing pursuits of the working class with phrases borrowed

Next day, as we were leaning our elbows on the same window sill, the same woman perceived us and cried

"Goodday, scholars!" in a comical sort of tone, while she made a contemptuous gesture with her hands.

I flung her a cigarette, which she immediately began to smoke. And the four other ironers rushed out to the

And each day a friendly intercourse was established between the working women of the pavement and the

Pere Piquedent was really a comical sight. He trembled at being noticed, for he might lose his position; and

he made timid and ridiculous gestures, quite a theatrical display of love signals, to which the women

A perfidious idea came into my mind. One day, on entering our room, I said to the old usher in a low tone:

"You would not believe it, Monsieur Piquedent, I met the little washerwoman! You know the one I mean, the

"She said to mewhy, she said she thought you were very nice. The fact of the matter is, I believe, I believe,

"She is laughing at me, of course. These things don't happen at my age," he replied.

As I felt that my trick had produced its effect on him, I did not press the matter.

But every day I pretended that I had met the little laundress and that I had spoken to her about him, so that in

Now it happened that one morning, on my way to the boarding school, I really came across her. I accosted

"Oh! no, I am not fooling! He keeps talking of you all through the lesson. I bet that he'll marry you!

She ceased laughing. The idea of marriage makes every girl serious. Then she repeated, with an incredulous

Presently when I had reached the boarding school, I took Pere Piquedent aside, and said:

And he wrote a long letter, tenderly affectionate, full of phrases and circumlocutions, metaphors and similes,

philosophy and academic gallantry; and I took on myself the responsibility of delivering it to the young

"How well he writes! It is easy to see he has got education! Does he really mean to marry me?"

"She loves you, Monsieur Piquedent, and I believe her to be a decent girl. It is not right to lead her on and

I confess I had at the time no plan. I was playing a practical joke a schoolboy joke, nothing more. I had been

aware of the simplicity of the old usher, his innocence and his weakness. I amused myself without asking

myself how it would turn out. I was eighteen, and I had been for a long time looked upon at the lycee as a sly

So it was agreed that Pere Piquedent and I should set out in a hack for the ferry of Queue de Vache, that we

should there pick up Angele, and that I should take them into my boat, for in those days I was fond of

boating. I would then bring them to the Ile des Fleurs, where the three of us would dine. I had inflicted myself

on them, the better to enjoy my triumph, and the usher, consenting to my arrangement, proved clearly that he

When we arrived at the ferry, where my boat had been moored since morning, I saw in the grass, or rather

above the tall weeds of the bank, an enormous red parasol, resembling a monstrous wild poppy. Beneath the

parasol was the little laundress in her Sunday clothes. I was surprised. She was really pretty, though pale; and

Pere Piquedent raised his hat and bowed. She put out her hand toward him, and they stared at one another

without uttering a word. Then they stepped into my boat, and I took the oars. They were seated side by side

She dipped her hand into the water, skimming the surface, making a thin, transparent film like a sheet of

When they were in the restaurant, she took it on herself to speak, and ordered dinner, fried fish, a chicken,

Until dessert, no question of love arose. I had treated them to champagne, and Pere Piquedent was tipsy.

"Do you mean to marry me when you say that? For on no other condition, you know."

It was thus that these two silly creatures promised marriage to each other through the trick of a young scamp.

"What do I know? We shall see. With five thousand francs we could do many things. You don't want me to

"Then we'll buy a grocer's shop! Oh! what luck! we'll buy a grocer's shop. Not on a big scale, of course; with

"No, I can't be a grocer. I amI amtoo well known: I only know Latin, that is all I know."

But she poured a glass of champagne down his throat. He drank it and was silent.

We got back into the boat. The night was dark, very dark. I saw clearly, however, that he had caught her by

It was a frightful catastrophe. Our escapade was discovered, with the result that Pere Piquedent was

dismissed. And my father, in a fit of anger, sent me to finish my course of philosophy at Ribaudet's school.

Six months later I took my degree of Bachelor of Arts. Then I went to study law in Paris, and did not return

At the corner of the Rue de Serpent a shop caught my eye. Over the door were the words: "Colonial

ProductsPiquedent" ; then underneath, so as to enlighten the most ignorant: "Grocery."

Piquedent raised his head, left his female customer, and rushed toward me with outstretched hands.

A beautiful woman, very plump, abruptly left the cashier's desk and flung herself on my breast. I had some

"Oh! very well, very well, very well. I have made three thousand francs clear this year!"

"Oh, good heavens! Latin, Latin, Latinyou see it does not keep the pot boiling!"

It was nothing but an accident, an accident pure and simple. On that particular evening the princess' rooms

were open, and as they appeared dark after the brilliantly lighted parlors, Baron d'Etraille, who was tired of

He looked round for a chair in which to have a doze, as he was sure his wife would not leave before daylight.

As soon as he became accustomed to the light of the room he distinguished the big bed with its azureand

gold hangings, in the middle of the great room, looking like a catafalque in which love was buried, for the

princess was no longer young. Behind it, a large bright surface looked like a lake seen at a distance. It was a

large mirror, discreetly covered with dark drapery, that was very rarely let down, and seemed to look at the

bed, which was its accomplice. One might almost fancy that it had reminiscences, and that one might see in it

The baron stood still for a moment, smiling, almost experiencing an emotion on the threshold of this chamber

dedicated to love. But suddenly something appeared in the lookingglass, as if the phantoms which he had

evoked had risen up before him. A man and a woman who had been sitting on a low couch concealed in the

shadow had arisen, and the polished surface, reflecting their figures, showed that they were kissing each other

Baron d'Etraille recognized his wife and the Marquis de Cervigne. He turned and went away like a man who

is fully master of himself, and waited till it was day before taking away the baroness; but he had no longer

"Madame, I saw you just now in Princesse de Raynes' room; I need say no more, and I am not fond either of

reproaches, acts of violence, or of ridicule. As I wish to avoid all such things, we shall separate without any

scandal. Our lawyers will settle your position according to my orders. You will be free to live as you please

when you are no longer under my roof; but, as you will continue to bear my name, I must warn you that

He was more astonished and sad than unhappy. He had loved her dearly during the first period of their

married life; but his ardor had cooled, and now he often amused himself elsewhere, either in a theatre or in

She was very young, hardly fourandtwenty, small, slighttoo slight and very fair. She was a true

Parisian doll: clever, spoiled, elegant, coquettish, witty, with more charm than real beauty. He used to say

"My wife is charming, attractive, butthere is nothing to lay hold of. She is like a glass of champagne that is

all froth; when you get to the wine it is very good, but there is too little of it, unfortunately."

He walked up and down the room in great agitation, thinking of a thousand things. At one moment he was

furious, and felt inclined to give the marquis a good thrashing, or to slap his face publicly, in the club. But he

decided that would not do, it would not be good form; he would be laughed at, and not his rival, and this

thought wounded his vanity. So he went to bed, but could not sleep. Paris knew in a few days that the Baron

and Baroness d'Etraille had agreed to an amicable separation on account of incompatibility of temper. No one

The baron, however, to avoid meeting his wife, travelled for a year, then spent the summer at the seaside, and

the autumn in shooting, returning to Paris for the winter. He did not meet the baroness once.

He did not even know what people said about her. In any case, she took care to respect appearances, and that

He became dreadfully bored, travelled again, restored his old castle of Villebosc, which took him two years;

then for over a year he entertained friends there, till at last, tired of all these socalled pleasures, he returned

He was now fortyfive, with a good crop of gray hair, rather stout, and with that melancholy look

characteristic of those who have been handsome, sought after, and liked, but who are deteriorating, daily.

A month after his return to Paris, he took cold on coming out of his club, and had such a bad cough that his

He reached the station only a few minutes before the departure of the train on Monday evening, and had

barely time to get into a carriage, with only one other occupant, who was sitting in a corner so wrapped in

furs and cloaks that he could not even make out whether it was a man or a woman, as nothing of the figure

could be seen. When he perceived that he could not find out, he put on his travelling cap, rolled himself up in

He did not wake until the day was breaking, and looked at once at his fellowtraveller, who had not stirred all

M. d'Etraille made use of the opportunity to brush his hair and his beard, and to try to freshen himself up a

little generally, for a night's travel does not improve one's appearance when one has attained a certain age.

As one grows older one wakes up in a very different condition. Dull eyes, red, swollen cheeks, dry lips, hair

The baron opened his travelling case, and improved his looks as much as possible.

The engine whistled, the train stopped, and his neighbor moved. No doubt he was awake. They started off

again, and then a slanting ray of sunlight shone into the carriage and on the sleeper, who moved again, shook

It was a young, fair, pretty, plump woman, and the baron looked at her in amazement. He did not know what

to think. He could really have sworn that it was his wife, but wonderfully changed for the better: stouter

why she had grown as stout as he was, only it suited her much better than it did him.

She looked at him calmly, did not seem to recognize him, and then slowly laid aside her wraps. She had that

quiet assurance of a woman who is sure of herself, who feels that on awaking she is in her full beauty and

The baron was really bewildered. Was it his wife, or else as like her as any sister could be? Not having seen

She yawned, and this gesture betrayed her. She turned and looked at him again, calmly, indifferently, as if she

Yes; it was surely his wife. How could he possibly have doubted it? There could certainly not be two noses

like that, and a thousand recollections flashed through his mind. He felt the old feeling of the intoxication of

love stealing over him, and he called to mind the sweet odor of her skin, her smile when she put her arms on

to his shoulders, the soft intonations of her voice, all her graceful, coaxing ways.

But how she had changed and improved! It was she and yet not she. She seemed riper, more developed, more

And this strange, unknown woman, whom he had accidentally met in a railway carriage, belonged to him; he

He had formerly slept in her arms, existed only in her love, and now he had found her again certainly, but so

changed that he scarcely knew her. It was another, and yet it was she herself. It was some one who had been

born and had formed and grown since he had left her. It was she, indeed; she whom he had loved, but who

was now altered, with a more assured smile and greater selfpossession. There were two women in one,

mingling a great part of what was new and unknown with many sweet recollections of the past. There was

something singular, disturbing, exciting about it a kind of mystery of love in which there floated a

delicious confusion. It was his wife in a new body and in new flesh which lips had never pressed.

And he thought that in a few years nearly every thing changes in us; only the outline can be recognized, and

The blood, the hair, the skin, all changes and is renewed, and when people have not seen each other for a long

time, when they meet they find each other totally different beings, although they are the same and bear the

And the heart also can change. Ideas may be modified and renewed, so that in forty years of life we may, by

gradual and constant transformations, become four or five totally new and different beings.

He dwelt on this thought till it troubled him; it had first taken possession of him when he surprised her in the

princess' room. He was not the least angry; it was not the same woman that he was looking at that thin,

What was he to do? How should he address her? and what could he say to her? Had she recognized him?

The train stopped again. He got up, bowed, and ,said: "Bertha, do you want anything I could bring you?"

She looked at him from head to foot, and answered, without showing the slightest surprise, or confusion, or

He got out and walked up and down the platform a little in order to recover himself, and, as it were, to

recover his senses after a fall. What should he do now? If he got into another carriage it would look as if he

were running away. Should he be polite or importunate? That would look as if he were asking for

forgiveness. Should he speak as if he were her master? He would look like a fool, and, besides, he really had

During his absence she had hastily arranged her dress and hair, and was now lying stretched out on the seat,

He turned to her, and said: "My dear Bertha, since this singular chance has brought up together after a

separation of six yearsa quite friendly separationare we to continue to look upon each other as

irreconcilable enemies? We are shut up together, tetedtete, which is so much the better or so much the

worse. I am not going to get into another carriage, so don't you think it is preferable to talk as friends till the

Then he suddenly stopped, really not knowing what to say; but as he had plenty of assurance, he sat down on

"Well, I see I must pay my court to you; so much the better. It is, however, really a pleasure, for you are

charming. You cannot imagine how you have improved in the last six years. I do not know any woman who

could give me that delightful sensation which I experienced just now when you emerged from your wraps. I

Without moving her head or looking at him, she said: "I cannot say the same with regard to you; you have

"Why?" was her reply. "I am only stating facts. I don't suppose you intend to offer me your love? It must,

therefore, be a matter of perfect indifference to you what I think about you. But I see it is a painful subject, so

He was very nearly saying something brutal, but he checked himself; and kissed his wife's hand:

He went on: "As you have acceded to my first request, shall we now talk without any bitterness?"

"Bitterness? I don't feel any; you are a complete stranger to me; I am only trying to keep up a difficult

He was still looking at her, fascinated in spite of her harshness, and he felt seized with a brutal Beside, the

"I am fortyfive"; and then he added: "I forgot to ask after Princesse de Raynes. Are you still intimate with

"My dear Bertha, I have changed my mind. You are my wife, and I expect you to come with me today. You

have, I think, improved both morally and physically, and I am going to take you back again. I am your

She was stupefied, and looked at him, trying to divine his thoughts; but his face was resolute and

"So much the worse for you," was his reply. "The law gives me the power, and I mean to use it."

They were nearing Marseilles, and the train whistled and slackened speed. The baroness rose, carefully rolled

"My dear Raymond, do not make a bad use of this tetea tete which I had carefully prepared. I wished to take

precautions, according to your advice, so that I might have nothing to fear from you or from other people,

"Not at all; just listen to me, and I am sure that you will leave me in peace. In a few moments, when we get to

the station, you will see the Princesse de Raynes and Comtesse Henriot waiting for me with their husbands. I

wished them to see as, and to know that we had spent the night together in the railway carriage. Don't be

"I told you just now that I had most carefully followed your advice and saved appearances. Anything else

does not matter, does it? Well, in order to do so, I wished to be seen with you. You told me carefully to avoid

She waited till the train had quite stopped, and as her friends ran up to open the carriage door, she said:

The princess stretched out her arms to embrace her,and the baroness said, painting to the baron, who was

"You do not recognize Raymond? He has certainly changed a good deal, and he agreed to come with me so

that I might not travel alone. We take little trips like this occasionally, like good friends who cannot live

She put out her hand, which he took mechanically, and then she jumped out on to the platform among her

The baron hastily shut the carriage door, for he was too much disturbed to say a word or come to any

determination. He heard his wife's voice and their merry laughter as they went away.

He never saw her again, nor did he ever discover whether she had told him a lie or was speaking the truth.

How is it that the sunlight gives us such joy? Why does this radiance when it falls on the earth fill us with the

joy of living? The whole sky is blue, the fields are green, the houses all white, and our enchanted eyes drink

in those bright colors which bring delight to our souls. And then there springs up in our hearts a desire to

dance, to run, to sing, a happy lightness of thought, a sort of enlarged tenderness; we feel a longing to

The blind, as they sit in the doorways, impassive in their eternal darkness, remain as calm as ever in the midst

of this fresh gaiety, and, not understanding what is taking place around them, they continually check their

When, at the close of the day, they are returning home on the arm of a young brother or a little sister, if the

child says: "It was a very fine day!" the other answers: "I could notice that it was fine. Loulou wouldn't keep

I knew one of these men whose life was one of the most cruel martyrdoms that could possibly be conceived.

He was a peasant, the son of a Norman farmer. As long as his father and mother lived, he was more or less

taken care of; he suffered little save from his horrible infirmity; but as soon as the old people were gone, an

atrocious life of misery commenced for him. Dependent on a sister of his, everybody in the farmhouse treated

him as a beggar who is eating the bread of strangers. At every meal the very food he swallowed was made a

subject of reproach against him; he was called a drone, a clown, and although his brotherinlaw had taken

possession of his portion of the inheritance, he was helped grudgingly to soup, getting just enough to save

His face was very pale and his two big white eyes looked like wafers. He remained unmoved at all the insults

Moreover, he had never known any tenderness, his mother having always treated him unkindly and caring

very little for him; for in country places useless persons are considered a nuisance, and the peasants would be

As soon as he finished his soup he went and sat outside the door in summer and in winter beside the fireside,

and did not stir again all the evening. He made no gesture, no movement; only his eyelids, quivering from

some nervous affection, fell down sometimes over his white, sightless orbs. Had he any intellect, any

thinking faculty, any consciousness of his own existence? Nobody cared to inquire.

For some years things went on in this fashion. But his incapacity for work as well as his impassiveness

eventually exasperated his relatives, and he became a laughingstock, a sort of butt for merriment, a prey to

It is easy to imagine all the cruel practical jokes inspired by his blindness. And, in order to have some fun in

return for feeding him, they now converted his meals into hours of pleasure for the neighbors and of

The peasants from the nearest houses came to this entertainment; it was talked about from door to door, and

every day the kitchen of the farmhouse was full of people. Sometimes they placed before his plate, when he

was beginning to eat his soup, some cat or dog. The animal instinctively perceived the man's infirmity, and,

softly approaching, commenced eating noiselessly, lapping up the soup daintily; and, when they lapped the

food rather noisily, rousing the poor fellow's attention, they would prudently scamper away to avoid the blow

Then the spectators ranged along the wall would burst out laughing, nudge each other and stamp their feet on

the floor. And he, without ever uttering a word, would continue eating with his right hand, while stretching

Another time they made him chew corks, bits of wood, leaves or even filth, which he was unable to

After this they got tired even of these practical jokes, and the brother inlaw, angry at having to support him

always, struck him, cuffed him incessantly, laughing at his futile efforts to ward off or return the blows. Then

came a new pleasurethe pleasure of smacking his face. And the ploughmen, the servant girls and even

every passing vagabond were every moment giving him cuffs, which caused his eyelashes to twitch

spasmodically. He did not know where to hide himself and remained with his arms always held out to guard

He was placed somewhere on the highroad on marketdays, and as soon as he heard the sound of footsteps

One winter the ground was covered with snow, and it was freezing hard. His brotherinlaw led him one

morning a great distance along the high road in order that he might solicit alms. The blind man was left there

all day; and when night came on, the brotherinlaw told the people of his house that he could find no trace

"Pooh! best not bother about him! He was cold and got someone to take him away. Never fear! he's not lost.

After long hours of waiting, stiffened with the cold, feeling that he was dying, the blind man began to walk.

Being unable to find his way along the road, owing to its thick coating of ice, he went on at random, falling

into ditches, getting up again, without uttering a sound, his sole object being to find some house where he

But, by degrees, the descending snow made a numbness steal over him, and his feeble limbs being incapable

of carrying him farther, he sat down in the middle of an open field. He did not get up again.

The white flakes which fell continuously buried him, so that his body, quite stiff and stark, disappeared under

the incessant accumulation of their rapidly thickening mass, and nothing was left to indicate the place where

His relatives made a pretence of inquiring about him and searching for him for about a week. They even

The winter was severe, and the thaw did not set in quickly. Now, one Sunday, on their way to mass, the

farmers noticed a great flight of crows, who were whirling incessantly above the open field, and then

The following week these gloomy birds were still there. There was a crowd of them up in the air, as if they

had gathered from all corners of the horizon, and they swooped down with a great cawing into the shining

snow, which they covered like black patches, and in which they kept pecking obstinately. A young fellow

went to see what they were doing and discovered the body of the blind man, already half devoured, mangled.

And I can never feel the glad radiance of sunlit days without sadly remembering and pondering over the fate

of the beggar who was such an outcast in life that his horrible death was a relief to all who had known him.

They had loved each other before marriage with a pure and lofty love. They had first met on the seashore.

He had thought this young girl charming, as she passed by with her lightcolored parasol and her dainty dress

amid the marine landscape against the horizon. He had loved her, blond and slender, in these surroundings of

blue ocean and spacious sky. He could not distinguish the tenderness which this budding woman awoke in

him from the vague and powerful emotion which the fresh salt air and the grand scenery of surf and sunshine

She, on the other hand, had loved him because he courted her, because he was young, rich, kind, and

attentive. She had loved him because it is natural for young girls to love men who whisper sweet nothings to

So, for three months, they had lived side by side, and hand in hand. The greeting which they exchanged in the

morning before the bath, in the freshness of the morning, or in the evening on the sand, under the stars, in the

warmth of a calm night, whispered low, very low, already had the flavor of kisses, though their lips had never

Each dreamed of the other at night, each thought of the other on awaking, and, without yet having voiced

After marriage their love descended to earth. It was at first a tireless, sensuous passion, then exalted

tenderness composed of tangible poetry, more refined caresses, and new and foolish inventions. Every glance

But, little by little, without even noticing it, they began to get tired of each other. Love was still strong, but

they had nothing more to reveal to each other, nothing more to learn from each other, no new tale of

endearment, no unexpected outburst, no new way of expressing the well known, oftrepeated verb.

They tried, however, to rekindle the dwindling flame of the first love. Every day they tried some new trick or

desperate attempt to bring back to their hearts the uncooled ardor of their first days of married life. They tried

moonlight walks under the trees, in the sweet warmth of the summer evenings: the poetry of mistcovered

He looked at her with a questioning glance, seeing that she was thinking of something which she did not wish

He smiled: "Of course, I understandyou mean in one of the cafes which are commonly called bohemian."

"Yes, that's it. But take me to one of the big places, one where you are known, one where you have already

"Well, III want to be taken for your sweetheartthere! and I want the boys, who do not know that you

are married, to take me for such; and you tooI want you to think that I am your sweetheart for one hour, in

that place which must hold so many memories for you. There! And I will play that I am your sweetheart. It's

awful, I knowI am abominably ashamed, I am as red as a peony. Don't look at me!"

Toward seven o'clock they went up the stairs of one of the big cafes on the Boulevard, he, smiling, with the

look of a conqueror, she, timid, veiled, delighted. They were immediately shown to one of the luxurious

private diningrooms, furnished with four large armchairs and a red plush couch. The head waiter entered

After handing his coat to the waiter, he ordered dinner and champagne. The waiter looked at the young

Henriette was pleased to hear that this man knew her husband's name. They sat on the couch, side by side,

Ten candles lighted the room and were reflected in the mirrors all around them, which seemed to increase the

brilliancy a thousandfold. Henriette drank glass after glass in order to keep up her courage, although she felt

dizzy after the first few glasses. Paul, excited by the memories which returned to him, kept kissing his wife's

She was feeling strangely excited in this new place, restless, pleased, a little guilty, but full of life. Two

waiters, serious, silent, accustomed to seeing and forgetting everything, to entering the room only when it

was necessary and to leaving it when they felt they were intruding, were silently flitting hither and thither.

Toward the middle of the dinner, Henriette was well under the influence of champagne. She was prattling

He hesitated, a little perplexed, not knowing whether he should hide his adventures or boast of them.

"Because it's dreadful when you think of itall those womenand always always the same thing. Oh! it's

He was surprised that she should think that dreadful, and answered, with the air of superiority which men

take with women when they wish to make them understand that they have said something foolish:

"That's funny! If it is dreadful to have a hundred women, it's dreadful to have one."

"Because with one woman you have a real bond of love which attaches you to her, while with a hundred

women it's not the same at all. There is no real love. I don't understand how a man can associate with such

She remained thoughtful, staring at her champagne glass. It was full she drank it in one gulp; then putting

it back on the table, she threw her arms around her husband's neck and murmured in his ear:

He threw his arms around her in a passionate embrace. A waiter, who was just entering, backed out, closing

the door discreetly. In about five minutes the head waiter came back, solemn and dignified, bringing the fruit

for dessert. She was once more holding between her fingers a full glass, and gazing into the amber liquid as

The small engine attached to the Neuilly steamtram whistled as it passed the Porte Maillot to warn all

obstacles to get out of its way and puffed like a person out of breath as it sent out its steam, its pistons

moving rapidly with a noise as of iron legs running. The train was going along the broad avenue that ends at

the Seine. The sultry heat at the close of a July day lay over the whole city, and from the road, although there

was not a breath of wind stirring, there arose a white, chalky, suffocating, warm dust, which adhered to the

moist skin, filled the eyes and got into the lungs. People stood in the doorways of their houses to try and get a

The windows of the steamtram were open and the curtains fluttered in the wind. There were very few

passengers inside, because on warm days people preferred the outside or the platforms. They consisted of

stout women in peculiar costumes, of those shopkeepers' wives from the suburbs, who made up for the

distinguished looks which they did not possess by illassumed dignity; of men tired from officework, with

yellow faces, stooped shoulders, and with one shoulder higher than the other, in consequence of, their long

hours of writing at a desk. Their uneasy and melancholy faces also spoke of domestic troubles, of constant

want of money, disappointed hopes, for they all belonged to the army of poor, threadbare devils who vegetate

economically in cheap, plastered houses with a tiny piece of neglected garden on the outskirts of Paris, in the

A short, corpulent man, with a puffy face, dressed all in black and wearing a decoration in his buttonhole,

was talking to a tall, thin man, dressed in a dirty, white linen suit, the coat all unbuttoned, with a white

Panama hat on his head. The former spoke so slowly and hesitatingly that it occasionally almost seemed as if

he stammered; he was Monsieur Caravan, chief clerk in the Admiralty. The other, who had formerly been

surgeon on board a merchant ship, had set up in practice in Courbevoie, where he applied the vague remnants

of medical knowledge which he had retained after an adventurous life, to the wretched population of that

district. His name was Chenet, and strange rumors were current as to his morality.

Monsieur Caravan had always led the normal life of a man in a Government office. For the last thirty years he

had invariably gone the same way to his office every morning, and had met the same men going to business

at the same time, and nearly on the same spot, and he returned home every evening by the same road, and

again met the same faces which he had seen growing old. Every morning, after buying his penny paper at the

corner of the Faubourg Saint Honore, he bought two rolls, and then went to his office, like a culprit who is

giving himself up to justice, and got to his desk as quickly as possible, always feeling uneasy; as though he

were expecting a rebuke for some neglect of duty of which he might have been guilty.

Nothing had ever occurred to change the monotonous order of his existence, for no event affected him except

the work of his office, perquisites, gratuities, and promotion. He never spoke of anything but of his duties,

either at the office, or at homehe had married the portionless daughter of one of his colleagues. His mind,

which was in a state of atrophy from his depressing daily work, had no other thoughts, hopes or dreams than

such as related to the office, and there was a constant source of bitterness that spoilt every pleasure that he

might have had, and that was the employment of so many naval officials, tinsmiths, as they were called

because of their silverlace as first class clerks; and every evening at dinner he discussed the matter hotly

with his wife, who shared his angry feelings, and proved to their own satisfaction that it was in every way

unjust to give places in Paris to men who ought properly to have been employed in the navy.

He was old now, and had scarcely noticed how his life was passing, for school had merely been exchanged

for the office without any intermediate transition, and the ushers, at whom he had formerly trembled, were

replaced by his chiefs, of whom he was terribly afraid. When he had to go into the rooms of these official

despots, it made him tremble from head to foot, and that constant fear had given him a very awkward manner

He knew nothing more about Paris than a blind man might know who was led to the same spot by his dog

every day; and if he read the account of any uncommon events or scandals in his penny paper, they appeared

to him like fantastic tales, which some pressman had made up out of his own head, in order to amuse the

inferior employees. He did not read the political news, which his paper frequently altered as the cause which

subsidized it might require, for he was not fond of innovations, and when he went through the Avenue of the

ChampsElysees every evening, he looked at the surging crowd of pedestrians, and at the stream of carriages,

As he had completed his thirty years of obligatory service that year, on the first of January, he had had the

cross of the Legion of Honor bestowed upon him, which, in the semimilitary public offices, is a recompense

for the miserable slaverythe official phrase is, loyal servicesof unfortunate convicts who are riveted to

their desk. That unexpected dignity gave him a high and new idea of his own capacities, and altogether

changed him. He immediately left off wearing light trousers and fancy waistcoats, and wore black trousers

and long coats, on which his ribbon, which was very broad, showed off better. He got shaved every morning,

manicured his nails more carefully, changed his linen every two days, from a legitimate sense of what was

proper, and out of respect for the national Order, of which he formed a part, and from that day he was another

At home, he said, "my cross," at every moment, and he had become so proud of it, that he could not bear to

see men wearing any other ribbon in their buttonholes. He became especially angry on seeing strange

orders: "Which nobody ought to be allowed to wear in France," and he bore Chenet a particular grudge, as he

met him on a tramcar every evening, wearing a decoration of one kind or another, white, blue, orange, or

The conversation of the two men, from the Arc de Triomphe to Neuilly, was always the same, and on that day

they discussed, first of all, various local abuses which disgusted them both, and the Mayor of Neuilly

received his full share of their censure. Then, as invariably happens in the company of medical man Caravan

began to enlarge on the chapter of illness, as in that manner, he hoped to obtain a little gratuitous advice, if he

was careful not to show his hand. His mother had been causing him no little anxiety for some time; she had

frequent and prolonged fainting fits, and, although she was ninety, she would not take care of herself.

Caravan grew quite tenderhearted when he mentioned her great age, and more than once asked Doctor

Chenet, emphasizing the word doctoralthough he was not fully qualified, being only an Offcier de

Santewhether he had often met anyone as old as that. And he rubbed his hands with pleasure; not, perhaps,

that he cared very much about seeing the good woman last forever here on earth, but because the long

duration of his mother's life was, as it were an earnest of old age for himself, and he continued:

"In my family, we last long, and I am sure that, unless I meet with an accident, I shall not die until I am very

The doctor looked at him with pity, and glanced for a moment at his neighbor's red face, his short, thick neck,

his "corporation," as Chenet called it to himself, his two fat, flabby legs, and the apoplectic rotundity of the

old official; and raising the white Panama hat from his head, he said with a snigger:

"I am not so sure of that, old fellow; your mother is as tough as nails, and I should say that your life is not a

This rather upset Caravan, who did not speak again until the tram put them down at their destination, where

the two friends got out, and Chenet asked his friend to have a glass of vermouth at the Cafe du Globe,

opposite, which both of them were in the habit of frequenting. The proprietor, who was a friend of theirs, held

out to them two fingers, which they shook across the bottles of the counter; and then they joined three of their

friends, who were playing dominoes, and who had been there since midday. They exchanged cordial

greetings, with the usual question: "Anything new?" And then the three players continued their game, and

held out their hands without looking up, when the others wished them "Goodnight," and then they both went

Caravan lived in a small twostory house in Courbevaie, near where the roads meet; the ground floor was

occupied by a hairdresser. Two bed rooms, a diningroom and a kitchen, formed the whole of their

apartments, and Madame Caravan spent nearly her whole time in cleaning them up, while her daughter,

MarieLouise, who was twelve, and her son, PhillipAuguste, were running about with all the little, dirty,

Caravan had installed his mother, whose avarice was notorious in the neighborhood, and who was terribly

thin, in the room above them. She was always cross, and she never passed a day without quarreling and flying

into furious tempers. She would apostrophize the neighbors, who were standing at their own doors, the

costermongers, the streetsweepers, and the streetboys, in the most violent language; and the latter, to

have their revenge, used to follow her at a distance when she went out, and call out rude things after her.

A little servant from Normandy, who was incredibly giddy and thoughtless, performed the household work,

and slept on the second floor in the same room as the old woman, for fear of anything happening to her in the

When Caravan got in, his wife, who suffered from a chronic passion for cleaning, was polishing up the

mahogany chairs that were scattered about the room with a piece of flannel. She always wore cotton gloves,

and adorned her head with a cap ornamented with many colored ribbons, which was always tilted over one

ear; and whenever anyone caught her polishing, sweeping, or washing, she used to say:

"I am not rich; everything is very simple in my house, but cleanliness is my luxury, and that is worth quite as

As she was gifted with sound, obstinate, practical common sense, she led her husband in everything. Every

evening during dinner, and afterwards when they were in their room, they talked over the business of the

office for a long time, and although she was twenty years younger than he was, he confided everything to her

She had never been pretty, and now she had grown ugly; in addition to that, she was short and thin, while her

careless and tasteless way of dressing herself concealed her few small feminine attractions, which might have

been brought out if she had possessed any taste in dress. Her skirts were always awry, and she frequently

scratched herself, no matter on what part of her person, totally indifferent as to who might see her, and so

persistently, that anyone who saw her might think that she was suffering from something like the itch. The

only adornments that she allowed herself were silk ribbons, which she had in great profusion, and of various

He fell into a chair, in consternation, for that was the fourth time on which he had forgotten a commission

"It is a fatality," he said; "it is no good for me to think of it all day long, for I am sure to forget it in the

"Yes, a great piece of news; another tinsmith has been appointed second chief clerk." She became very

"So he succeeds Ramon; this was the very post that I wanted you to have. And what about Ramon?"

"There is nothing more to be done in that shop now. And what is the name of the new commissioner?"

She took up the Naval Year Book, which she always kept close at hand, and looked him up.

"'BonassotToulon. Born in 1851. Student Commissioner in 1871. Sub Commissioner in 1875.' Has he been

to sea?" she continued. At that question Caravan's looks cleared up, and he laughed until his sides shook.

"As much as Balinas much as Baffin, his chief." And he added an old office joke, and laughed more than

"It would not even do to send them by water to inspect the PointduJour, for they would be sick on the

But she remained as serious as if she had not heard him, and then she said in a low voice, as she scratched her

"If we only had a Deputy to fall back upon. When the Chamber hears everything that is going on at the

She was interrupted by a terrible noise on the stairs. MarieLouise and PhilippeAuguste, who had just come

in from the gutter, were slapping each other all the way upstairs. Their mother rushed at them furiously, and

taking each of them by an arm she dragged them into the room, shaking them vigorously; but as soon as they

saw their father, they rushed up to him, and he kissed them affectionately, and taking one of them on each

PhilippeAuguste was an ugly, illkempt little brat, dirty from head to foot, with the face of an idiot, and

MarieLouise was already like her motherspoke like her, repeated her words, and even imitated her

movements. She also asked him whether there was anything fresh at the office, and he replied merrily:

"Your friend, Ramon, who comes and dines here every Sunday, is going to leave us, little one. There is a new

He stopped laughing, and did not reply, and in order to create a diversion, he said, addressing his wife, who

Madame Caravan left off rubbing, turned round. pulled her cap up, as it had fallen quite on to her back, and

"Ah! yes; let us talk about your mother, for she has made a pretty scene. Just imagine: a short time ago

Madame Lebaudin, the hairdresser's wife, came upstairs to borrow a packet of starch of me, and, as I was not

at home, your mother chased her out as though she were a beggar; but I gave it to the old woman. She

pretended not to hear, as she always does when one tells her unpleasant truths, but she is no more deaf than I

am, as you know. It is all a sham, and the proof of it is, that she went up to her own room immediately,

Caravan, embarrassed, did not utter a word, and at that moment the little servant came in to announce dinner.

In order to let his mother know, he took a broomhandle, which always stood in a corner, and rapped loudly

on the ceiling three times, and then they went into the diningroom. Madame Caravan, junior, helped the

soup, and waited for the old woman, but she did not come, and as the soup was getting cold, they began to eat

slowly, and when their plates were empty, they waited again, and Madame Caravan, who was furious,

"She does it on purpose, you know that as well as I do. But you always uphold her."

Not knowing which side to take, he sent MarieLouise to fetch her grandmother, and he sat motionless, with

his eyes cast down, while his wife tapped her glass angrily with her knife. In about a minute, the door flew

open suddenly, and the child came in again, out of breath and very pale, and said hurriedly:

Caravan jumped up, threw his tablenapkin down, and rushed upstairs, while his wife, who thought it was

some trick of her motherinlaw's, followed more slowly, shrugging her shoulders, as if to express her doubt.

When they got upstairs, however, they found the old woman lying at full length in the middle of the room;

and when they turned her over, they saw that she was insensible and motionless, while her skin looked more

wrinkled and yellow than usual, her eyes were closed, her teeth clenched, and her thin body was stiff.

"Bah! She has only fainted again, that is all, and she has done it to prevent us from dining comfortably, you

They put her on the bed, undressed her completely, and Caravan, his wife, and the servant began to rub her;

but, in spite of their efforts, she did not recover consciousness, so they sent Rosalie, the servant, to fetch

Doctor Chenet. He lived a long way off, on the quay, going towards Suresnes, and so it was a considerable

time before he arrived. He came at last, however, and, after having looked at the old woman, felt her pulse,

Caravan threw himself on the body, sobbing violently; he kissed his mother's rigid face, and wept so that

great tears fell on the dead woman's face like drops of water, and, naturally, Madame Caravan, junior,

showed a decorous amount of grief, and uttered feeble moans as she stood behind her husband, while she

But, suddenly, Caravan raised himself up, with his thin hair in disorder, and, looking very ugly in his grief,

The doctor stooped over the body, and, handling it with professional dexterity, as a shopkeeper might do,

He raised the eyelid, and the old woman's eye appeared altogether unaltered, unless, perhaps, the pupil was

rather larger, and Caravan felt a severe shock at the sight. Then Monsieur Chenet took her thin arm, forced

Caravan fell on the bed, and almost bellowed, while his wife, still whimpering, did what was necessary.

She brought the nighttable, on which she spread a towel and placed four wax candles on it, which she

lighted; then she took a sprig of box, which was hanging over the chimney glass, and put it between the four

candles, in a plate, which she filled with clean water, as she had no holy water. But, after a moment's rapid

reflection, she threw a pinch of salt into the water, no doubt thinking she was performing some sort of act of

consecration by doing that, and when she had finished, she remained standing motionless, and the doctor,

She nodded assent, and, going up to her husband, who was still on his knees, sobbing, she raised him up by

They put him into a chair, and his wife kissed his forehead, and then began to lecture him. Chenet enforced

her words and preached firmness, courage, and resignationthe very things which are always wanting in

such overwhelming misfortunesand then both of them took him by the arms again and led him out.

He was crying like a great child, with convulsive sobs; his arms hanging down, and his legs weak, and he

went downstairs without knowing what he was doing, and moving his feet mechanically. They put him into

the chair which he always occupied at dinner, in front of his empty soup plate. And there he sat, without

moving, his eyes fixed on his glass, and so stupefied with grief, that he could not even think.

In a corner, Madame Caravan was talking with the doctor and asking what the necessary formalities were, as

she wanted to obtain practical information. At last, Monsieur Chenet, who appeared to be waiting for

something, took up his hat and prepared to go, saying that he had not dined yet; whereupon she exclaimed:

"What! you have not dined? Why, stay here, doctor; don't go. You shall have whatever we have, for, of

course, you understand that we do not fare sumptuously." He made excuses and refused, but she persisted,

and said: "You really must stay; at times like this, people like to have friends near them, and, besides that,

perhaps you will be able to persuade my husband to take some nourishment; he must keep up his strength."

She gave Rosalie, who seemed to have lost her head, some orders, and then sat down, "to pretend to eat," as

The soup was brought in again, and Monsieur Chenet took two helpings. Then there came a dish of tripe,

which exhaled a smell of onions, and which Madame Caravan made up her mind to taste.

"It is excellent," the doctor said, at which she smiled, and, turning to her husband, she said:

"Do take a little, my poor Alfred, only just to put something in your stomach. Remember that you have got to

He held out his plate, docilely, just as he would have gone to bed, if he had been told to, obeying her in

everything, without resistance and without reflection, and he ate; the doctor helped himself three times, while

Madame Caravan, from time to time, fished out a large piece at the end of her fork, and swallowed it with a

"By Jove! That is what I am very fond of." And this time, Madame Caravan helped everybody. She even

filled the saucers that were being scraped by the children, who, being left to themselves, had been drinking

Chenet remembered that Rossini, the composer, had been very fond of that Italian dish, and suddenly he

Nobody listened to him, however. Madame Caravan, who had suddenly grown thoughtful, was thinking of all

the probable consequences of the event, while her husband made bread pellets, which he put on the

tablecloth, and looked at with a fixed, idiotic stare. As he was devoured by thirst, he was continually raising

his glass full of wine to his lips, and the consequence was that his mind, which had been upset by the shock

and grief, seemed to become vague, and his ideas danced about as digestion commenced.

The doctor, who, meanwhile, had been drinking away steadily, was getting visibly drunk, and Madame

Caravan herself felt the reaction which follows all nervous shocks, and was agitated and excited, and,

Presently, Chenet began to relate stories of death that appeared comical to him. For in that suburb of Paris,

that is full of people from the provinces, one finds that indifference towards death which all peasants show,

were it even their own father or mother; that want of respect, that unconscious brutality which is so common

"Why, I was sent for last week to the Rue du Puteaux, and when I went, I found the patient dead and the

whole family calmly sitting beside the bed finishing a bottle of aniseed cordial, which had been bought the

But Madame Caravan was not listening; she was continually thinking of the inheritance, and Caravan was

Coffee was presently served, and it had been made very strong to give them courage. As every cup was well

flavored with cognac, it made all their faces red, and confused their ideas still more. To make matters still

worse, Chenet suddenly seized the brandy bottle and poured out "a drop for each of them just to wash their

mouths out with," as he termed it, and then, without speaking any more, overcome in spite of themselves, by

that feeling of animal comfort which alcohol affords after dinner, they slowly sipped the sweet cognac, which

The children had fallen asleep, and Rosalie carried them off to bed. Caravan, mechanically obeying that wish

to forget oneself which possesses all unhappy persons, helped himself to brandy again several times, and his

dull eyes grew bright. At last the doctor rose to go, and seizing his friend's arm, he said:

"Come with me; a little fresh air will do you good. When one is in trouble, one must not remain in one spot."

The other obeyed mechanically, put on his hat, took his stick, and went out, and both of them walked

The air was warm and sweet, for all the gardens in the neighborhood were full of flowers at this season of the

year, and their fragrance, which is scarcely perceptible during the day, seemed to awaken at the approach of

The broad avenue with its two rows of gas lamps, that extended as far as the Arc de Triomphe, was deserted

and silent, but there was the distant roar of Paris, which seemed to have a reddish vapor hanging over it. It

was a kind of continual rumbling, which was at times answered by the whistle of a train in the distance,

The fresh air on the faces of the two men rather overcame them at first, made the doctor lose his equilibrium

a little, and increased Caravan's giddiness, from which he had suffered since dinner. He walked as if he were

in a dream; his thoughts were paralyzed, although he felt no great grief, for he was in a state of mental torpor

that prevented him from suffering, and he even felt a sense of relief which was increased by the mildness of

When they reached the bridge, they turned to the right, and got the fresh breeze from the river, which rolled

along, calm and melancholy, bordered by tall poplar trees, while the stars looked as if they were floating on

the water and weremoving with the current. A slight white mist that floated over the opposite banks, filled

their lungs with a sensation of cold, and Caravan stopped suddenly, for he was struck by that smell from the

water which brought back old memories to his mind. For, in his mind, he suddenly saw his mother again, in

Picardy, as he had seen her years before, kneeling in front of their door, and washing the heaps of linen at her

side in the stream that ran through their garden. He almost fancied that he could hear the sound of the wooden

paddle with which she beat the linen in the calm silence of the country, and her voice, as she called out to

him: "Alfred, bring me some soap." And he smelled that odor of running water, of the mist rising from the

wet ground, that marshy smell, which he should never forget, and which came back to him on this very

He stopped, seized with a feeling of despair. A sudden flash seemed to reveal to him the extent of his

calamity, and that breath from the river plunged him into an abyss of hopeless grief. His life seemed cut in

half, his youth disappeared, swallowed up by that death. All the former days were over and done with, all the

recollections of his youth had been swept away; for the future, there would be nobody to talk to him of what

had happened in days gone by, of the people he had known of old, of his own part of the country, and of his

past life; that was a part of his existence which existed no longer, and the rest might as well end now.

And then he saw "the mother" as she was when young, wearing wellworn dresses, which he remembered for

such a long time that they seemed inseparable from her; he recollected her movements, the different tones of

her voice, her habits, her predilections, her fits of anger, the wrinkles on her face, the movements of her thin

fingers, and all her wellknown attitudes, which she would never have again, and clutching hold of the

doctor, he began to moan and weep. His thin legs began to tremble, his whole stout body was shaken by his

But his companion, who was still drunk, and who intended to finish the evening in certain places of bad

repute that he frequented secretly, made him sit down on the grass by the riverside, and left him almost

Caravan went on crying for some time, and when he had got to the end of his tears, when his grief had, so to

The tall poplar trees had a silvery sheen on them, and the mist on the plain looked like drifting snow; the

river, in which the stars were reflected, and which had a sheen as of motherofpearl, was gently rippled by

the wind. The air was soft and sweet, and Caravan inhaled it almost greedily, and thought that he could

perceive a feeling of freshness, of calm and of superhuman consolation pervading him.

He actually resisted that feeling of comfort and relief, and kept on saying to himself: "My poor mother, my

poor mother!" and tried to make himself cry, from a kind of conscientious feeling; but he could not succeed

in doing so any longer, and those sad thoughts, which had made him sob so bitterly a shore time before, had

almost passed away. In a few moments, he rose to go home, and returned slowly, under the influence of that

When he reached the bridge, he saw that the last tramcar was ready to start, and behind it were the brightly

lighted windows of the Cafe du Globe. He felt a longing to tell somebody of his loss, to excite pity, to make

himself interesting. He put on a woeful face, pushed open the door, and went up to the counter, where the

landlord still was. He had counted on creating a sensation, and had hoped that everybody would get up and

come to him. with outstretched hands, and say: "Why, what is the matter with you?" But nobody noticed his

disconsolate face, so he rested his two elbows on the counter, and, burying his face in his hands, he

"Ah!" the other exclaimed, and as a customer at the other end of the establishment asked for a glass of

Bavarian beer, he went to attend to him, leaving Caravan dumfounded at his want of sympathy.

The three domino players were sitting at the same table which they had occupied before dinner, totally

absorbed in their game, and Caravan went up to them, in search of pity, but as none of them appeared to

All three slightly raised their heads at the same instant, but keeping their eyes fixed on the pieces which they

"Oh! the devil," with that false air of sorrow which indifferent people assume. Another, who could not find

anything to say, emitted a sort of sympathetic whistle, shaking his head at the same time, and the third turned

Caravan had expected some of these expressions that are said to "come from the heart," and when he saw

how his news was received, he left the table, indignant at their calmness at their friend's sorrow, although this

sorrow had stupefied him so that he scarcely felt it any longer. When he got home his wife was waiting for

him in her nightgown, and sitting in a low chair by the open window, still thinking of the inheritance.

"I beg your pardon, Rosalie is with her, and you can go and take her place at three o'clock in the morning,

He only partially undressed, however, so as to be ready for anything that might happen, and after tying a silk

handkerchief round his head, he lay down to rest, and for some time neither of them spoke. Madame Caravan

Her nightcap was adorned with a red bow, and was pushed rather to one side, as was the way with all the caps

"I call that infamous; here we have been wearing ourselves out for ten years in looking after her, and have

boarded and lodged her! Your sister would not have done so much for her, nor I either, if I had known how I

was to be rewarded! Yes, it is a disgrace to her memory! I dare say that you will tell me that she paid us, but

one cannot pay one's children in ready money for what they do; that obligation is recognized after death; at

any rate, that is how honorable people act. So I have had all my worry and trouble for nothing! Oh, that is

She grew calmer by degrees, and, resuming her usual voice and manner, she continued:

"Of course we must; I had forgotten all about it; I will send her a telegram the first thing in the morning."

"No," she replied, like a woman who had foreseen everything; "no, do not send it before ten or eleven

o'clock, so that we may have time to turn round before she comes. It does not take more than two hours to get

here from Charenton, and we can say that you lost your head from grief. If we let her know in the course of

Caravan put his hand to his forehead, and, in the came timid voice in which he always spoke of his chief, the

"Why?" she replied. "On occasions like this, it is always excusable to forget. Take my advice, and don't let

him know; your chief will not be able to say anything to you, and you will put him in a nice fix.

"Oh! yes, that I shall, and he will be in a terrible rage, too, when he notices my absence. Yes, you are right; it

is a capital idea, and when I tell him that my mother is dead, he will be obliged to hold his tongue."

And he rubbed his hands in delight at the joke, when he thought of his chief's face; while upstairs lay the

But Madame Caravan grew thoughtful, as if she were preoccupied by something which she did not care to

"Your mother had given you her clock, had she notthe girl playing at cup and ball?"

"Yes, yes; she said to me (but it was a long time ago, when she first came here): 'I shall leave the clock to

"Well, then, you must go and fetch it out of her room, for if we get your sister here, she will prevent us from

"I certainly think so; once it is in our possession, she will know nothing at all about where it came from; it

belongs to us. It is just the same with the chest of drawers with the marble top, that is in her room; she gave it

me one day when she was in a good temper. We will bring it down at the same time."

"Oh! Indeed! Will you never change? You would let your children die of hunger, rather than make a move.

Does not that chest of drawers belong to us, as she gave it to me? And if your sister is not satisfied, let her tell

me so, me! I don't care a straw for your sister. Come, get up, and we will bring down what your mother gave

Trembling and vanquished, he got out of bed and began to put on his trousers, but she stopped him:

"It is not worth while to dress yourself; your underwear is quite enough. I mean to go as I am."

They both left the room in their night clothes, went upstairs quite noiselessly, opened the door and went into

the room, where the four lighted tapers and the plate with the sprig of box alone seemed to be watching the

old woman in her rigid repose, for Rosalie, who was lying back in the easy chair with her legs stretched out,

her hands folded in her lap, and her head on one side, was also quite motionless, and was snoring with her

Caravan took the clock, which was one of those grotesque objects that were produced so plentifully under the

Empire. A girl in gilt bronze was holding a cup and ball, and the ball formed the pendulum.

"Give that to me," his wife said, "and take the marble slab off the chest of drawers."

He put the marble slab on his shoulder with considerable effort, and they left the room. Caravan had to stoop

in the doorway, and trembled as he went downstairs, while his wife walked backwards, so as to light him, and

"We have got over the worst part of the job," she said; "so now let us go and fetch the other things."

But the bureau drawers were full of the old woman's wearing apparel, which they must manage to hide

"Go and get that wooden packing case in the vestibule; it is hardly worth anything, and we may just as well

And when he had brought it upstairs they began to fill it. One by one they took out all the collars, cuffs,

chemises, caps, all the wellworn things that had belonged to the poor woman lying there behind them, and

arranged them methodically in the wooden box in such a manner as to deceive Madame Braux, the deceased

When they had finished, they first of all carried the bureau drawers downstairs, and the remaining portion

afterwards, each of them holding an end, and it was some time before they could make up their minds where

it would stand best; but at last they decided upon their own room, opposite the bed, between the two

windows, and as soon as it was in its place Madame Caravan filled it with her own things. The clock was

placed on the chimneypiece in the diningroom, and they looked to see what the effect was, and were both

delighted with it and agreed that nothing could be better. Then they retired, she blew out the candle, and soon

It was broad daylight when. Caravan opened his eyes again. His mind was rather confused when he woke up,

and he did not clearly remember what had happened for a few minutes; when he did, he felt a weight at his

He hastened to the room overhead, where Rosalie was still sleeping in the same position as the night before,

not having awakened once. He sent her to do her work, put fresh tapers in the place of those that had burnt

out, and then he looked at his mother, revolving in his brain those apparently profound thoughts, those

religious and philosophical commonplaces which trouble people of mediocre intelligence in the presence of

But, as his wife was calling him, he went downstairs. She had written out a list of what had to be done during

1. Report the death at the mayor's office. 2. See the doctor who had attended her. 3. Order the coffin. 4. Give

notice at the church. 5. Go to the undertaker. 6. Order the notices of her death at the printer's. 7. Go to the

Besides all this, there were a number of small commissions; so he took his hat and went out. As the news had

spread abroad, Madame Caravan's female friends and neighbors soon began to come in and begged to be

allowed to see the body. There had been a scene between husband and wife at the hairdresser's on the ground

floor about the matter, while a customer was being shaved. The wife, who was knitting steadily, said: "Well,

there is one less, and as great a miser as one ever meets with. I certainly did not care for her; but,

The husband, while lathering his patient's chin, said: "That is another queer fancy! Nobody but a woman

would think of such a thing. It is not enough for them to worry you during life, but they cannot even leave

you at peace when you are dead:" But his wife, without being in the least disconcerted, replied: "The feeling

is stronger than I am, and I must go. It has been on me since the morning. If I were not to see her, I should

think about it all my life; but when I have had a good look at her, I shall be satisfied."

The knight of the razor shrugged his shoulders and remarked in a low voice to the gentleman whose cheek he

was scraping: "I just ask you, what sort of ideas do you think these confounded females have? I should not

amuse myself by going to see a corpse!" But his wife had heard him and replied very quietly: "But it is so, it

is so." And then, putting her knitting on the counter, she went upstairs to the first floor, where she met two

other neighbors, who had just come, and who were discussing the event with Madame Caravan, who was

giving them the details, and they all went together to the death chamber. The four women went in softly, and,

one after the other, sprinkled the bed clothes with the salt water, knelt down, made the sign of the cross while

they mumbled a prayer. Then they rose from their knees and looked for some time at the corpse with round,

wideopen eyes and mouths partly open, while the daughterinlaw of the dead woman, with her

When she turned about to walk away whom should she perceive standing close to the door but MarieLouise

and PhilippeAuguste, who were curiously taking stock of all that was going on. Then, forgetting her

pretended grief, she threw herself upon them with uplifted hands, crying out in a furious voice, "Will you get

Ten minutes later, going upstairs again with another contingent of neighbors, she prayed, wept profusely,

performed all her duties, and found once more her two children, who had followed her upstairs. She again

boxed their ears soundly, but the next time she paid no heed to them, and at each fresh arrival of visitors the

two urchins always followed in the wake, kneeling down in a corner and imitating slavishly everything they

When the afternoon came the crowds of inquisitive people began to diminish, and soon there were no more

visitors. Madame Caravan, returning to her own apartments, began to make the necessary preparations for the

The window of the room was open. A torrid heat entered, along with clouds of dust; the flames of the four

candles were flickering beside the immobile corpse, and upon the cloth which covered the face, the closed

eyes, the two stretchedout hands, small flies alighted, came, went and careered up and down incessantly,

MarieLouise and PhilippeAuguste, however, had now left the house and were running up and down the

street. They were soon surrounded by their playmates, by little girls especially, who were older and who were

much more interested in all the mysteries of life, asking questions as if they were grown people.

"Then your grandmother is dead?" "Yes, she died yesterday evening." "What does a dead person look like?"

Then Marie began to explain, telling all about the candles, the sprig of box and the face of the corpse. It was

not long before great curiosity was aroused in the minds of all the children, and they asked to be allowed to

MarieLouise at once organized a first expedition, consisting of five girls and two boysthe biggest and the

most courageous. She made them take off their shoes so that they might not be discovered. The troupe filed

Once in the chamber, the little girl, imitating her mother, regulated the ceremony. She solemnly walked in

advance of her comrades, went down on her knees, made the sign of the cross, moved her lips as in prayer,

rose, sprinkled the bed, and while the children, all crowded together, were approachingfrightened and

curious and eager to look at the face and hands of the deceasedshe began suddenly to simulate sobbing and

to bury her eyes in her little handkerchief. Then, becoming instantly consoled, on thinking of the other

children who were downstairs waiting at the door, she ran downstairs followed by the rest, returning in a

minute with another group, then a third; for all the little ragamuffins of the countryside, even to the little

beggars in rags, had congregated in order to participate in this new pleasure; and each time she repeated her

At length, however, she became tired. Some game or other drew the children away from the house, and the

The room was growing dark, and upon the dry and rigid features of the corpse the fitful flames of the candles

Towards 8 o'clock Caravan ascended to the chamber of death, closed the windows and renewed the candles.

He was now quite composed on entering the room, accustomed already to regard the corpse as though it had

been there for months. He even went the length of declaring that, as yet, there were no signs of

decomposition, making this remark just at the moment when he and his wife were about to sit down at table.

The soup was eaten in silence. The children, who had been left to themselves all day, now worn out by

fatigue, were sleeping soundly on their chairs, and nobody ventured to break the silence.

Suddenly the flame of the lamp went down. Madame Caravan immediately turned up the wick, a hollow

sound ensued, and the light went out. They had forgotten to buy oil. To send for it now to the grocer's would

keep back the dinner, and they began to look for candles, but none were to be found except the tapers which

Madame Caravan, always prompt in her decisions, quickly despatched Marie Louise to fetch two, and her

The footsteps of the girl who had ascended the stairs were distinctly heard. There was silence for a few

seconds and then the child descended precipitately. She threw open the door and in a choking voice

Caravan bounded to his feet with such precipitance that his chair fell over against the wall. He stammered

But MarieLouise, gasping with emotion, repeated: "Grandgrand grandmamma is putting on her

Caravan rushed boldly up the staircase, followed by his wife, dumfounded; but he came to a standstill before

the door of the second floor, overcome with terror, not daring to enter. What was he going to see? Madame

Caravan, more courageous, turned the handle of the door and stepped forward into the room.

The old woman was standing up. In awakening from her lethargic sleep, before even regaining full

consciousness, in turning upon her side and raising herself on her elbow, she had extinguished three of the

candles which burned near the bed. Then, gaining strength, she got off the bed and began to look for her

clothes. The absence of her chest of drawers had at first worried her, but, after a little, she had succeeded in

finding her things at the bottom of the wooden box, and was now quietly dressing. She emptied the plateful

of water, replaced the sprig of box behind the lookingglass, and arranged the chairs in their places, and was

ready to go downstairs when there appeared before her her son and daughterinlaw.

Caravan rushed forward, seized her by the hands, embraced her with tears in his eyes, while his wife, who

was behind him, repeated in a hypocritical tone of voice: "Oh, what a blessing! oh, what a blessing!"

But the old woman, without being at all moved, without even appearing to understand, rigid as a statue, and

And with an alacrity unusual in him, he took her arm, while Madame Caravan, the younger, seized the candle

and lighted them downstairs, walking backwards in front of them, step by step, just as she had done the

On reaching the first floor, she almost ran against people who were ascending the stairs. It was the Charenton

The wife, tall and stout, with a prominent stomach, opened wide her terrified eyes and was ready to make her

escape. The husband, a socialist shoemaker, a little hairy man, the perfect image of a monkey, murmured

As soon as Madame Caravan recognized them, she made frantic gestures to them; then, speaking aloud, she

But Madame Braux, dumfounded, understood nothing. She responded in a low voice: "It was your telegram

Her husband, who was behind her, pinched her to make her keep silent. He added with a sly laugh, which his

thick beard concealed: "It was very kind of you to invite us here. We set out post haste," which remark

showed the hostility which had for a long time reigned between the households. Then, just as the old woman

reached the last steps, he pushed forward quickly and rubbed his hairy face against her cheeks, shouting in

her ear, on account of her deafness: "How well you look, mother; sturdy as usual, hey!"

Madame Braux, in her stupefaction at seeing the old woman alive, whom they all believed to be dead, dared

not even embrace her; and her enormous bulk blocked up the passageway and hindered the others from

advancing. The old woman, uneasy and suspicious, but without speaking, looked at everyone around her; and

her little gray eyes, piercing and hard, fixed themselves now on one and now on the other, and they were so

Caravan, to explain matters, said: "She has been somewhat ill, but she is better now; quite well, indeed, are

Then the good woman, continuing to walk, replied in a husky voice, as though it came from a distance: "It

An embarrassing silence followed. They entered the diningroom, and in a few minutes all sat down to an

Only M. Braux had retained his selfpossession. His gorilla features grinned wickedly, while he let fall some

But the door bell kept ringing every second, and Rosalie, distracted, came to call Caravan, who rushed out,

throwing down his napkin. His brotherinlaw even asked him whether it was not one of his reception days,

A parcel was brought in, which he began to open carelessly, and the mourning announcements with black

borders appeared unexpectedly. Reddening up to the very eyes, he closed the package hurriedly and pushed it

His mother had not seen it! She was looking intently at her clock which stood on the mantelpiece, and the

embarrassment increased in midst of a dead silence. Turning her wrinkled face towards her daughter, the old

woman, in whose eyes gleamed malice, said: "On Monday you must take me away from here, so that I can

see your little girl. I want so much to see her." Madame Braux, her features all beaming, exclaimed: "Yes,

mother, that I will," while Madame Caravan, the younger, who had turned pale, was ready to faint with

annoyance. The two men, however, gradually drifted into conversation and soon became embroiled in a

political discussion. Braux maintained the most revolutionary and communistic doctrines, his eyes glowing,

and gesticulating and throwing about his arms. "Property, sir," he said, "is a robbery perpetrated on the

working classes; the land is the common property of every man; hereditary rights are an infamy and a

disgrace." But here he suddenly stopped, looking as if he had just said something foolish, then added in softer

The door was opened and Dr. Chenet appeared. For a moment he seemed bewildered, but regaining his usual

smirking expression of countenance, he jauntily approached the old woman and said: "Aha! mamma; you are

better today. Oh! I never had any doubt but you would come round again; in fact, I said to myself as I was

mounting the staircase, 'I have an idea that I shall find the old lady on her feet once more';" and as he patted

her gently on the back: "Ah! she is as solid as the PontNeuf, she will bury us all; see if she does not."

He sat down, accepted the coffee that was offered him, and soon began to join in the conversation of the two

The old woman, now feeling herself fatigued, wished to retire. Caravan rushed forward. She looked him

steadily in the eye and said: "You, you must carry my clock and chest of drawers upstairs again without a

moment's delay." "Yes, mamma," he replied, gasping; "yes, I will do so." The old woman then took the arm

of her daughter and withdrew from the room. The two Caravans remained astounded, silent, plunged in the

Suddenly Madame Caravan, consumed with rage, rushed at him, exclaiming: "You are a thief, a footpad, a

cur! I would spit in your face! II would" She could find nothing further to say, suffocating as she

His wife returning just then, Madame Caravan attacked her sisterinlaw, and the two womenthe one with

her enormous bulk, the other epileptic and spare, with changed voices and trembling hands flew at one

Chenet and Braux now interposed, and the latter, taking his better half by the shoulders, pushed her out of the

door before him, shouting: "Go on, you slut; you talk too much"; and the two were heard in the street

M. Chenet also took his departure, leaving the Caravans alone, face to face. The husband fell back on his

chair, and with the cold sweat standing out in beads on his temples, murmured: "What shall I say to my chief

He was slowly dying, as consumptives die. I saw him each day, about two o'clock, sitting beneath the hotel

windows on a bench in the promenade, looking out on the calm sea. He remained for some time without

moving, in the heat of the sun, gazing mournfully at the Mediterranean. Every now and then, he cast a glance

at the lofty mountains with beclouded summits that shut in Mentone; then, with a very slow movement, he

would cross his long legs, so thin that they seemed like two bones, around which fluttered the cloth of his

trousers, and he would open a book, always the same book. And then he did not stir any more, but read on,

read on with his eye and his mind; all his wasting body seemed to read, all his soul plunged, lost,

disappeared, in this book, up to the hour when the cool air made him cough a little. Then, he got up and

He was a tall German, with fair beard, who breakfasted and dined in his own room, and spoke to nobody.

A vague, curiosity attracted me to him. One day, I sat down by his side, having taken up a book, too, to keep

"I am sorry for that. Since chance has thrown us side by side, I could have lent you, I could have shown you,

"It is a copy of my master, Schopenhauer, annotated with his own hand. All the margins, as you may see, are

I took the book from him reverently, and I gazed at these forms incomprehensible to me, but which revealed

the immortal thoughts of the greatest shatterer of dreams who had ever dwelt on earth.

And involuntarily I compared the childish sarcasm, the religious sarcasm of Voltaire with the irresistible

Let us protest and let us be angry, let us be indignant, or let us be enthusiastic, Schopenhauer has marked

A disabused pleasureseeker, he overthrew beliefs, hopes, poetic ideals and chimeras, destroyed the

aspirations, ravaged the confidence of souls, killed love, dragged down the chivalrous worship of women,

crushed the illusions of hearts, and accomplished the most gigantic task ever attempted by scepticism. He

spared nothing with his mocking spirit, and exhausted everything. And even today those who execrate him

"So, then, you were intimately acquainted with Schopenhauer?" I said to the German.

And he spoke to me about the philosopher and told me about the almost supernatural impression which this

He gave me an account of the interview of the old iconoclast with a French politician, a doctrinaire

Republican, who wanted to get a glimpse of this man, and found him in a noisy tavern, seated in the midst of

his disciples, dry, wrinkled, laughing with an unforgettable laugh, attacking and tearing to pieces ideas and

beliefs with a single word, as a dog tears with one bite of his teeth the tissues with which he plays.

He repeated for me the comment of this Frenchman as he went away, astonished and terrified: "I thought I

"He had, indeed, monsieur, a frightful smile, which terrified us even after his death. I can tell you an anecdote

"Schopenhauer had just died, and it was arranged that we should watch, in turn, two by two, till morning.

"He was lying in a large apartment, very simple, vast and gloomy. Two wax candles were burning on the

"It was midnight when I went on watch, together with one of our comrades. The two friends whom we

replaced had left the apartment, and we came and sat down at the foot of the bed.

"The face was not changed. It was laughing. That pucker which we knew so well lingered still around the

corners of the lips, and it seemed to us that he was about to open his eyes, to move and to speak. His thought,

or rather his thoughts, enveloped us. We felt ourselves more than ever in the atmosphere of his genius,

absorbed, possessed by him. His domination seemed to be even more sovereign now that he was dead. A

"The bodies of these men disappear, but they themselves remain; and in the night which follows the cessation

"And in hushed tones we talked about him, recalling to mind certain sayings, certain formulas of his, those

startling maxims which are like jets of flame flung, in a few words, into the darkness of the Unknown Life.

"'It seems to me that he is going to speak,' said my comrade. And we stared with uneasiness bordering on fear

at the motionless face, with its eternal laugh. Gradually, we began to feel ill at ease, oppressed, on the point

"And at that moment we noticed that there was an unpleasant odor from the corpse.

"Then, my comrade suggested that we should go into the adjoining room, and leave the door open; and I

"I took one of the wax candles which burned on the stand, and I left the second behind. Then we went and sat

down at the other end of the adjoining apartment, in such a position that we could see the bed and the corpse,

"But he still held possession of us. One would have said that his immaterial essence, liberated, free,

allpowerful and dominating, was flitting around us. And sometimes, too, the dreadful odor of the

"Suddenly a shiver passed through our bones: a sound, a slight sound, came from the deathchamber.

Immediately we fixed our glances on him, and we saw, yes, monsieur, we saw distinctly, both of us,

something white pass across the bed, fall on the carpet, and vanish under an armchair.

"We were on our feet before we had time to think of anything, distracted by stupefying terror, ready to run

away. Then we stared at each other. We were horribly pale. Our hearts throbbed fiercely enough to have

"I took our wax candle and entered first, glancing into all the dark corners in the large apartment. Nothing

was moving now, and I approached the bed. But I stood transfixed with stupor and fright:

Schopenhauer was no longer laughing! He was grinning in a horrible fashion, with his lips pressed together

"But the terrible odor ascended to my nose and stifled me. And I no longer moved, but kept staring fixedly at

"Then my companion, having seized the other wax candle, bent forward. Next, he touched my arm without

uttering a word. I followed his glance, and saw on the ground, under the armchair by the side of the bed,

standing out white on the dark carpet, and open as if to bite, Schopenhauer's set of artificial teeth.

"The work of decomposition, loosening the jaws, had made it jump out of the mouth.

And as the sun was sinking toward the glittering sea, the consumptive German rose from his seat, gave me a