Original Short Stories, Vol. 4. ............................................................................................................................1

Guy de Maupassant ..................................................................................................................................1

THE MORIBUND ...................................................................................................................................1

THE GAMEKEEPER ..............................................................................................................................7

THE STORY OF A FARM GIRL .........................................................................................................13

THE WRECK........................................................................................................................................22

THEODULE SABOT'S CONFESSION...............................................................................................29

THE WRONG HOUSE.........................................................................................................................36

THE DIAMOND NECKLACE.............................................................................................................41

THE MARQUIS DE FUMEROL ..........................................................................................................48

THE TRIP OF LE HORLA...................................................................................................................52

FAREWELL! .........................................................................................................................................58

THE WOLF...........................................................................................................................................61

THE INN ................................................................................................................................................65

The warm autumn sun was beating down on the farmyard. Under the grass, which had been cropped close by

the cows, the earth soaked by recent rains, was soft and sank in under the feet with a soggy noise, and the

apple trees, loaded with apples, were dropping their pale green fruit in the dark green grass.

Four young heifers, tied in a line, were grazing and at times looking toward the house and lowing. The fowls

made a colored patch on the dung heap before the stable, scratching, moving about and cackling, while two

roosters crowed continually, digging worms for their hens, whom they were calling with a loud clucking.

The wooden gate opened and a man entered. He might have been forty years old, but he looked at least sixty,

wrinkled, bent, walking slowly, impeded by the weight of heavy wooden shoes full of straw. His long arms

hung down on both sides of his body. When he got near the farm a yellow cur, tied at the foot of an enormous

pear tree, beside a barrel which served as his kennel, began at first to wag his tail and then to bark for joy.

A peasant woman came out of the house. Her large, flat, bony body was outlined under a long woollen jacket

drawn in at the waist. A gray skirt, too short, fell to the middle of her legs, which were encased in blue

stockings. She, too, wore wooden shoes, filled with straw. The white cap, turned yellow, covered a few hairs

which were plastered to the scalp, and her brown, thin, ugly, toothless face had that wild, animal expression

After passing through the kitchen, they entered a low, dark room, barely lighted by one window, in front of

which a piece of calico was hanging. The big beams, turned brown with age and smoke, crossed the room

from one side to the other, supporting the thin floor of the garret, where an army of rats ran about day and

The moist, lumpy earthen floor looked greasy, and, at the back of the room, the bed made an indistinct white

spot. A harsh, regular noise, a difficult, hoarse, wheezing breathing, like the gurgling of water from a broken

pump, came from the darkened couch where an old man, the father of the peasant woman, was dying.

The man and the woman approached the dying man and looked at him with calm, resigned eyes.

"He's been gurglin' like that ever since midday." They were silent. The father's eyes were closed, his face was

the color of the earth and so dry that it looked like wood. Through his open mouth came his harsh, rattling

"There's nothing more to do; I can't help him. It's a nuisance, just the same, because the weather is good and

His wife seemed annoyed at this idea. She reflected a few moments and then said:

"Yes, but tomorrow I'll have to invite the people to the funeral. That means five or six hours to go round to

"It isn't three o'clock yet. You could begin this evening and go all round the country to Tourville. You can

The man stood perplexed for a while, weighing the pros and cons of the idea. At last he declared:

"As you haven't got anythin' to do you might shake down some apples to bake and make four dozen

dumplings for those who come to the funeral, for one must have something to cheer them. You can light the

He left the room, went back into the kitchen, opened the cupboard, took out a sixpound loaf of bread, cut off

a slice, and carefully gathered the crumbs in the palm of his hand and threw them into his mouth, so as not to

lose anything. Then, with the end of his knife, he scraped out a little salt butter from the bottom of an earthen

He recrossed the farmyard, quieted the dog, which had started barking again, went out on the road bordering

As soon as she was alone, the woman began to work. She uncovered the mealbin and made the dough for

the dumplings. She kneaded it a long time, turning it over and over again, punching, pressing, crushing it.

Finally she made a big, round, yellowwhite ball, which she placed on the corner of the table.

Then she went to get her apples, and, in order not to injure the tree with a pole, she climbed up into it by a

ladder. She chose the fruit with care, only taking the ripe ones, and gathering them in her apron.

She turned round. It was a neighbor, Osime Favet, the mayor, on his way to fertilize his fields, seated on the

manurewagon, with his feet hanging over the side. She turned round and answered:

"He is as good as dead. The funeral is Saturday at seven, because there's lots of work to be done."

When she went back to the house, she went over to look at her father, expecting to find him dead. But as soon

as she reached the door she heard his monotonous, noisy rattle, and, thinking it a waste of time to go over to

him, she began to prepare her dumplings. She wrapped up the fruit, one by one, in a thin layer of paste, then

she lined them up on the edge of the table. When she had made fortyeight dumplings, arranged in dozens,

one in front of the other, she began to think of preparing supper, and she hung her kettle over the fire to cook

potatoes, for she judged it useless to heat the oven that day, as she had all the next day in which to finish the

Her husband returned at about five. As soon as he had crossed the threshold he asked:

They went to look at him. The old man was in exactly the same condition. His hoarse rattle, as regular as the

ticking of a clock, was neither quicker nor slower. It returned every second, the tone varying a little,

They returned to the kitchen and started to eat without saying a word. When they had swallowed their soup,

they ate another piece of bread and butter. Then, as soon as the dishes were washed, they returned to the

The woman, carrying a little lamp with a smoky wick, held it in front of her father's face. If he had not been

The couple's bed was hidden in a little recess at the other end of the room. Silently they retired, put out the

light, closed their eyes, and soon two unequal snores, one deep and the other shriller, accompanied the

The husband awoke at the first streaks of dawn. His fatherinlaw was still alive. He shook his wife, worried

"You needn't be afraid; he can't live through the day. And the mayor won't stop our burying him tomorrow,

because he allowed it for Maitre Renard's father, who died just during the planting season."

At noon the old man was not dead. The people hired for the day's work came by groups to look at him. Each

At six o'clock, when the work was over, the father was still breathing. At last his soninlaw was frightened.

She no longer knew how to solve the problem. They went to the mayor. He promised that he would close his

eyes and authorize the funeral for the following day. They also went to the health officer, who likewise

promised, in order to oblige Maitre Chicot, to antedate the death certificate. The man and the woman

They went to bed and to sleep, just as they did the preceding day, their sonorous breathing blending with the

Then they began to be frightened. They stood by their father, watching him with distrust, as though he had

wished to play them a mean trick, to deceive them, to annoy them on purpose, and they were vexed at him for

The guests who were expected could not be notified. They decided to wait and explain the case to them.

Toward a quarter to seven the first ones arrived. The women in black, their heads covered with large veils,

looking very sad. Then men, ill at ease in their homespun coats, were coming forward more slowly, in

Maitre Chicot and his wife, bewildered, received them sorrowfully, and suddenly both of them together

began to cry as they approached the first group. They explained the matter, related their difficulty, offered

chairs, bustled about, tried to make excuses, attempting to prove that everybody would have done as they did,

The guests, taken aback, a little disappointed, as though they had missed an expected entertainment, did not

know what to do, some remaining seated. others standing. Several wished to leave. Maitre Chicot held them

"You must take something, anyhow! We made some dumplings; might as well make use of 'em."

The faces brightened at this idea. The yard was filling little by little; the early arrivals were telling the news to

those who had arrived later. Everybody was whispering. The idea of the dumplings seemed to cheer everyone

The women went in to take a look at the dying man. They crossed themselves beside the bed, muttered a

prayer and went out again. The men, less anxious for this spectacle, cast a look through the window, which

"That's how he's been for two days, neither better nor worse. Doesn't he sound like a pump that has gone

When everybody had had a look at the dying man, they thought of the refreshments; but as there were too

many people for the kitchen to hold, the table was moved out in front of the door. The four dozen golden

dumplings, tempting and appetizing, arranged in two big dishes, attracted the eyes of all. Each one reached

out to take his, fearing that there would not be enough. But four remained over.

"Father would feel sad if he were to see this. He loved them so much when he was alive."

This remark, instead of making the guests sad, seemed to cheer them up. It was their turn now to eat

Madame Chicot, distressed at the expense, kept running down to the cellar continually for cider. The pitchers

were emptied in quick succession. The company was laughing and talking loud now. They were beginning to

Suddenly an old peasant woman who had stayed beside the dying man, held there by a morbid fear of what

would soon happen to herself, appeared at the window and cried in a shrill voice:

Everybody was silent. The women arose quickly to go and see. He was indeed dead. The rattle had ceased.

The men looked at each other, looking down, ill at ease. They hadn't finished eating the dumplings. Certainly

the rascal had not chosen a propitious moment. The Chicots were no longer weeping. It was over; they were

"I knew it couldn't 'last. If he could only have done it last night, it would have saved us all this trouble."

Well, anyhow, it was over. They would bury him on Monday, that was all, and they would eat some more

The guests went away, talking the matter over, pleased at having had the chance to see him and of getting

And when the husband and wife were alone, face to face, she said, her face distorted with grief:

"We'll have to bake four dozen more dumplings! Why couldn't he have made up his mind last night?"

It was after dinner, and we were talking about adventures and accidents which happened while out shooting.

An old friend, known to all of us, M. Boniface, a great sportsman and a connoisseur of wine, a man of

wonderful physique, witty and gay, and endowed with an ironical and resigned philosophy, which manifested

"I know a story, or rather a tragedy, which is somewhat peculiar. It is not at all like those which one hears of

"It is not at all sympathetic. I mean by that, that it does not arouse the kind of interest which pleases or which

"In those days I owned a lonely bit of property in the neighborhood of Jumieges, surrounded by forests and

abounding in hares and rabbits. I was accustomed to spending four or five days alone there each year, there

"I had placed there as gamekeeper, an old retired gendarme, a good man, hottempered, a severe

disciplinarian, a terror to poachers and fearing nothing. He lived all alone, far from the village, in a little

house, or rather hut, consisting of two rooms downstairs, with kitchen and store room, and two upstairs. One

of them, a kind of box just large enough to accommodate a bed, a cupboard and a chair, was reserved for my

"Old man Cavalier lived in the other one. When I said that he was alone in this place, I was wrong. He had

taken his nephew with him, a young scamp about fourteen years old, who used to go to the village and run

"This young scapegrace was long and lanky, with yellow hair, so light that it resembled the fluff of a plucked

chicken, so thin that he seemed bald. Besides this, he had enormous feet and the hands of a giant.

"He was crosseyed, and never looked at anyone. He struck me as being in the same relation to the human

"He slept in a kind of hole at the top of the stairs which led to the two rooms.

"But during my short sojourns at the Pavilionso I called the hut Marius would give up his nook to an old

woman from Ecorcheville, called Celeste, who used to come and cook for me, as old man Cavalier's stews

"It was on the fifteenth of October, 1854I shall remember that date as long as I live.

"I left Rouen on horseback, followed by my dog Bock, a big Dalmatian hound from Poitou, fullchested and

with a heavy jaw, which could retrieve among the bushes like a PontAndemer spaniel.

"I was carrying my satchel slung across my back and my gun diagonally across my chest. It was a cold,

"As I went up the hill at Canteleu, I looked over the broad valley of the Seine, the river winding in and out

along its course as far as the eye could see. To the right the towers of Rouen stood out against the sky, and to

the left the landscape was bounded by the distant slopes covered with trees. Then I crossed the forest of

Roumare and, toward five o'clock, reached the Pavilion, where Cavalier and Celeste were expecting me.

"For ten years I had appeared there at the same time, in the same manner; and for ten years the same faces

"Cavalier had hardly changed. He withstood time like an old tree; but Celeste, especially in the past four

"She was bent almost double, and, although still active, when she walked her body was almost at right angles

"The old woman, who was very devoted to me, always seemed affected at seeing me again, and each time, as

"The sad, timid farewell of this old servant, this hopeless resignation to the inevitable fate which was not far

"I dismounted, and while Cavalier, whom I had greeted, was leading my horse to the little shed which served

as a stable, I entered the kitchen, which also served as diningroom, followed by Celeste.

"Here the gamekeeper joined us. I saw at first glance that something was the matter. He seemed preoccupied,

"'No, not yet, monsieur. I do not wish to bother you with my little troubles so soon after your arrival.'

"I insisted, but he absolutely refused to give me any information before dinner. From his expression, I could

"He said this with so much seriousness, with such sad solemnity, that it was really almost funny. His big gray

" Well, monsieur, I had rather tell you the whole business right away; it's on account of him that I am

"'Over in the stable, monsieur. I was waiting for the right time to bring him out.'

"The gamekeeper, however, hesitated, his voice altered and shaky, his face suddenly furrowed by the deep

"'Well, I found out, last winter, that someone was poaching in the woods of Roseraies, but I couldn't seem to

catch the man. I spent night after night on the lookout for him. In vain. During that time they began poaching

over by Ecorcheville. I was growing thin from vexation. But as for catching the trespasser, impossible! One

"'But one day, while I was brushing Marius' Sunday trousers, I found forty cents in his pocket. Where did he

"'I thought the matter over for about a week, and I noticed that he used to go out; he would leave the house

"'Then I started to watch him, without the slightest suspicion of the real facts. One morning, just after I had

gone to bed before him, I got right up again, and followed him. For shadowing a man, there is nobody like

"'And I caught him, Marius, poaching on your land, monsieur; he my nephew, I your keeper!

"'The blood rushed to my head, and I almost killed him on the spot, I hit him so hard. Oh! yes, I thrashed him

all right. And I promised him that he would get another beating from my hand, in your presence, as an

"'There! I have grown thin from sorrow. You know how it is when one is worried like that. But tell me, what

would you have done? The boy has no father or mother, and I am the last one of his blood; I kept him, I

"'I told him that if it happened again I would have no more pity for him, all would be over. There! Did I do

"'Thank you, monsieur. Now I am going to fetch him. I must give him his thrashing, as an example.'

"I knew that it was hopeless to try and turn the old man from his idea. I therefore let him have his own way.

"Marius seemed to have grown; he was homelier even than the year before, with his evil, sneaking

"Then putting one arm round him, the former gendarme lifted him right off the ground, and began to whack

"Then his uncle lifted him to his feet, and dismissed him with a cuff which almost knocked him down again.

"My dog was already asleep on the floor, at the foot of my bed, when I put out the light.

"I was awakened toward midnight by the furious barking of my dog Bock. I immediately noticed that my

room was full of smoke. I jumped out of bed, struck a light, ran to the door and opened it. A cloud of flames

"I quickly closed the heavy oak door and, drawing on my trousers, I first lowered the dog through the

window, by means of a rope made of my sheets; then, having thrown out the rest of my clothes, my

"However, I could see through the lower windows that the whole ground floor was nothing but a roaring

furnace; I also noticed that it had been filled with straw to make it burn readily.

"Then the thought struck me that the smoke might be suffocating him. An idea came to me. I slipped two

"The six panes of glass shattered into the room in a cloud of glass. This time the old man had heard me, and

he appeared, dazed, in his nightshirt, bewildered by the glare which illumined the whole front of his 'house.

"The flames were coming out through all the cracks downstairs, were licking along the wall, were creeping

toward him and going to surround him. He jumped and landed on his feet, like a cat.

"It was none too soon. The thatched roof cracked in the middle, right over the staircase, which formed a kind

of flue for the fire downstairs; and an immense red jet jumped up into the air, spreading like a stream of water

and sprinkling a shower of sparks around the hut. In a few seconds it was nothing but a pool of flames.

"He did not answer. The house caved in before us, forming only an enormous, bright, blinding brazier, an

aweinspiring funeralpile, where the poor woman could no longer be anything but a glowing ember, a

"As the fire crept toward the shed, I suddenly bethought me of my horse, and Cavalier ran to free it.

"Hardly had he opened the door of the stable, when a supple, nimble body darted between his legs, and threw

"The man was up in a second. He tried to run after the wretch, but, seeing that he could not catch him, and

maddened by an irresistible anger, yielding to one of those thoughtless impulses which we cannot foresee or

prevent, he picked up my gun, which was lying on the ground. near him, put it to his shoulder, and, before I

could make a motion, he pulled the trigger without even noticing whether or not the weapon was loaded.

"One of the cartridges which I had put in to announce the fire was still intact, and the charge caught the

fugitive right in the back,throwing him forward on the ground, bleeding profusely. He immediately began

to claw the earth with his hands and with his knees, as though trying to run on all fours like a rabbit who has

"I rushed forward to the boy, but I could already hear the deathrattle. He passed away before the fire was

"Cavalier, still in his shirt, his legs bare, was standing near us, motionless, dazed.

"When the people from the village arrived, my gamekeeper was taken away, like an insane man.

"I appeared at the trial as witness, and related the facts in detail, without changing a thing. Cavalier was

As the weather was very fine, the people on the farm had hurried through their dinner and had returned to the

The servant, Rose, remained alone in the large kitchen, where the fire was dying out on the hearth beneath the

large boiler of hot water. From time to time she dipped out some water and slowly washed her dishes,

stopping occasionally to look at the two streaks of light which the sun threw across the long table through the

Three venturesome hens were picking up the crumbs under the chairs, while the smell of the poultry yard and

the warmth from the cow stall came in through the halfopen door, and a cock was heard crowing in the

When she had finished her work, wiped down the table, dusted the mantelpiece and put the plates on the high

dresser close to the wooden clock with its loud ticktock, she drew a long breath, as she felt rather oppressed,

without exactly knowing why. She looked at the black clay walls, the rafters that were blackened with smoke

and from which hung spiders' webs, smoked herrings and strings of onions, and then she sat down, rather

overcome by the stale odor from the earthen floor, on which so many things had been continually spilled and

which the heat brought out. With this there was mingled the sour smell of the pans of milk which were set out

She wanted to sew, as usual, but she did not feel strong enough, and so she went to the door to get a mouthful

The fowls were lying on the steaming dunghill; some of them were scratching with one claw in search of

worms, while the cock stood up proudly in their midst. When he crowed, the cocks in all the neighboring

farmyards replied to him, as if they were uttering challenges from farm to farm.

The girl looked at them without thinking, and then she raised her eyes and was almost dazzled at the sight of

the apple trees in blossom. Just then a colt, full of life and friskiness, jumped over the ditches and then

She also felt inclined to run; she felt inclined to move and to stretch her limbs and to repose in the warm,

breathless air. She took a few undecided steps and closed her eyes, for she was seized with a feeling of

animal comfort, and then she went to look for eggs in the hen loft. There were thirteen of them, which she

took in and put into the storeroom; but the smell from the kitchen annoyed her again, and she went out to sit

The farmyard, which was surrounded by trees, seemed to be asleep. The tall grass, amid which the tall yellow

dandelions rose up like streaks of yellow light, was of a vivid, fresh spring green. The apple trees cast their

shade all round them, and the thatched roofs, on which grew blue and yellow irises, with their swordlike

leaves, steamed as if the moisture of the stables and barns were coming through the straw. The girl went to

the shed, where the carts and buggies were kept. Close to it, in a ditch, there was a large patch of violets,

whose fragrance was spread abroad, while beyond the slope the open country could be seen, where grain was

growing, with clumps of trees in places, and groups of laborers here and there, who looked as small as dolls,

and white horses like toys, who were drawing a child's cart, driven by a man as tall as one's finger.

She took up a bundle of straw, threw it into the ditch and sat down upon it. Then, not feeling comfortable, she

undid it, spread it out and lay down upon it at full length on her back, with both arms under her head and her

Gradually her eyes closed, and she was falling into a state of delightful languor. She was, in fact, almost

asleep when she felt two hands on her bosom, and she sprang up at a bound. It was Jacques, one of the farm

laborers, a tall fellow from Picardy, who had been making love to her for a long time. He had been herding

the sheep, and, seeing her lying down in the shade, had come up stealthily and holding his breath, with

He tried to kiss her, but she gave him a smack in the face, for she was as strong as he, and he was shrewd

enough to beg her pardon; so they sat down side by side and talked amicably. They spoke about the favorable

weather, of their master, who was a good fellow, then of their neighbors, of all the people in the country

round, of themselves, of their village, of their youthful days, of their recollections, of their relations, who had

left them for a long time, and it might be forever. She grew sad as she thought of it, while he, with one fixed

"I have not seen my mother for a long time," she said. "It is very hard to be separated like that," and she

directed her looks into the distance, toward the village in the north which she had left.

Suddenly, however, he seized her by the neck and kissed her again, but she struck him so violently in the face

with her clenched fist that his nose began to bleed, and he got up and laid his head against the stem of a tree.

When she saw that, she was sorry, and going up to him, she said: "Have I hurt you?" He, however, only

laughed. "No, it was a mere nothing; only she had hit him right on the middle of the nose. What a devil!" he

said, and he looked at her with admiration, for she had inspired him with a feeling of respect and of a very

different kind of admiration which was the beginning of a real love for that tall, strong wench. When the

bleeding had stopped, he proposed a walk, as he was afraid of his neighbor's heavy hand, if they remained

side by side like that much longer; but she took his arm of her own accord, in the avenue, as if they had been

out for an evening's walk, and said: "It is not nice of you to despise me like that, Jacques." He protested,

He hesitated and then looked at her sideways, while she looked straight ahead of her. She had fat, red cheeks,

a full bust beneath her cotton jacket; thick, red lips; and her neck, which was almost bare, was covered with

small beads of perspiration. He felt a fresh access of desire, and, putting his lips to her ear, he murmured:

Then she threw her arms round his neck and kissed him till they were both out of breath. From that moment

the eternal story of love began between them. They plagued one another in corners; they met in the moonlight

beside the haystack and gave each other bruises on the legs, under the table, with their heavy nailed boots. By

degrees, however, Jacques seemed to grow tired of her; he avoided her, scarcely spoke to her, and did not try

any longer to meet her alone, which made her sad and anxious; and soon she found that she was enceinte.

At first she was in a state of consternation, but then she got angry, and her rage increased every day because

she could not meet him, as he avoided her most carefully. At last, one night, when every one in the farmhouse

was asleep, she went out noiselessly in her petticoat, with bare feet, crossed the yard and opened the door of

the stable where Jacques was lying in a large box of straw above his horses. He pretended to snore when he

"What do you want?" he then asked her. And with clenched teeth, and trembling with anger, she replied: "I

wantI want you to marry me, as you promised." But he only laughed and replied: "Oh! if a man were to

marry all the girls with whom he has made a slip, he would have more than enough to do."

Then she seized him by the throat, threw him or his back, so that he could not get away from her, and, half

He gasped for breath, as he was almost choked, and so they remained, both of them, motionless and without

speaking, in the dark silence, which was only broken by the noise made by a horse as he, pulled the hay out

When Jacques found that she was the stronger, he stammered out: "Very well, I will marry you, as that is the

case." But she did not believe his promises. "It must be at once," she said. "You must have the banns put up."

"At once," he replied. "Swear solemnly that you will." He hesitated for a few moments and then said: "I

She had no chance of speaking to him for several days; and, as the stable was now always locked at night, she

was afraid to make any noise, for fear of creating a scandal. One morning, however, she saw another man

come in at dinner time, and she said: "Has Jacques left?" "Yes;" the man replied; "I have got his place."

This made her tremble so violently that she could not take the saucepan off the fire; and later, when they were

all at work, she went up into her room and cried, burying her head in the bolster, so that she might not be

heard. During the day, however, she tried to obtain some information without exciting any suspicion, but she

was so overwhelmed by the thoughts of her misfortune that she fancied that all the people whom she asked

laughed maliciously. All she learned, however, was that he had left the neighborhood altogether.

Then a cloud of constant misery began for her. She worked mechanically, without thinking of what she was

This continual feeling made her so incapable of reasoning that she did not even try to think of any means of

avoiding the disgrace that she knew must ensue, which was irreparable and drawing nearer every day, and

which was as sure as death itself. She got up every morning long before the others and persistently tried to

look at her figure in a piece of broken lookingglass, before which she did her hair, as she was very anxious

to know whether anybody would notice a change in her, and, during the day, she stopped working every few

minutes to look at herself from top to toe, to see whether her apron did not look too short.

The months went on, and she scarcely spoke now, and when she was asked a question, did not appear to

understand; but she had a frightened look, haggard eyes and trembling hands, which made her master say to

In church she hid behind a pillar, and no longer ventured to go to confession, as she feared to face the priest,

to whom she attributed superhuman powers, which enabled him to read people's consciences; and at meal

times the looks of her fellow servants almost made her faint with mental agony; and she was always fancying

that she had been found out by the cowherd, a precocious and cunning little lad, whose bright eyes seemed

One morning the postman brought her a letter, and as she had never received one in her life before she was so

upset by it that she was obliged to sit down. Perhaps it was from him? But, as she could not read, she sat

anxious and trembling with that piece of paper, covered with ink, in her hand. After a time, however, she put

it into her pocket, as she did not venture to confide her secret to any one. She often stopped in her work to

look at those lines written at regular intervals, and which terminated in a signature, imagining vaguely that

she would suddenly discover their meaning, until at last, as she felt half mad with impatience and anxiety, she

She did not say a word and went away, but as soon as she was alone her legs gave way under her, and she fell

When she got back, she told the farmer her bad news, and he allowed her to go home for as long as she liked,

and promised to have her work done by a charwoman and to take her back when she returned.

Her mother died soon after she got there, and the next day Rose gave birth to a sevenmonths child, a

miserable little skeleton, thin enough to make anybody shudder, and which seemed to be suffering

continually, to judge from the painful manner in which it moved its poor little hands, which were as thin as a

crab's legs; but it lived for all that. She said she was married, but could not be burdened with the child, so she

left it with some neighbors, who promised to take great care of it, and she went back to the farm.

But now in her heart, which had been wounded so long, there arose something like brightness, an unknown

love for that frail little creature which she had left behind her, though there was fresh suffering in that very

love, suffering which she felt every hour and every minute, because she was parted from her child. What

pained her most, however, was the mad longing to kiss it, to press it in her arms, to feel the warmth of its

little body against her breast. She could not sleep at night; she thought of it the whole day long, and in the

evening, when her work was done, she would sit in front of the fire and gaze at it intently, as people do whose

They began to talk about her and to teaseher about her lover. They asked her whether he was tall, handsome

and rich. When was the wedding to be and the christening? And often she ran away to cry by herself, for

these questions seemed to hurt her like the prick of a pin; and, in order to forget their jokes, she began to

work still more energetically, and, still thinking of her child, she sought some way of saving up money for it,

By degrees she almost monopolized the work and persuaded him to get rid of one servant girl, who had

become useless since she had taken to working like two; she economized in the bread, oil and candles; in the

corn, which they gave to the chickens too extravagantly, and in the fodder for the horses and cattle, which

was rather wasted. She was as miserly about her master's money as if it had been her own; and, by dint of

making good bargains, of getting high prices for all their produce, and by baffling the peasants' tricks when

they offered anything for sale, he, at last, entrusted her with buying and selling everything, with the direction

of all the laborers, and with the purchase of provisions necessary for the household; so that, in a short time,

she became. indispensable to him. She kept such a strict eye on everything about her that, under her direction,

the farm prospered wonderfully, and for five miles around people talked of "Master Vallin's servant," and the

farmer himself said everywhere: "That girl is worth more than her weight in gold."

But time passed by, and her wages remained the same. Her hard work was accepted as something that was

due from every good servant, and as a mere token of good will; and she began to think rather bitterly that if

the farmer could put fifty or a hundred crowns extra into the bank every month, thanks to her, she was still

only earning her two hundred francs a year, neither more nor less; and so she made up her mind to ask for an

increase of wages. She went to see the schoolmaster three times about it, but when she got there, she spoke

about something else. She felt a kind of modesty in asking for money, as if it were something disgraceful;

but, at last, one day, when the farmer was having breakfast by himself in the kitchen, she said to him, with

some embarrassment, that she wished to speak to him particularly. He raised his head in surprise, with both

his hands on the table, holding his knife, with its point in the air, in one, and a piece of bread in the other, and

he looked fixedly at, the girl, who felt uncomfortable under his gaze, but asked for a week's holiday, so that

she might get away, as she was not very well. He acceded to her request immediately, and then added, in

The child was nearly eight months old, and she did not recognize it. It had grown rosy and chubby all over,

like a little roll of fat. She threw herself on it, as if it had been some prey, and kissed it so violently that it

began to scream with terror; and then she began to cry herself, because it did not know her, and stretched out

its arms to its nurse as soon as it saw her. But the next day it began to know her, and laughed when it saw her,

and she took it into the fields, and ran about excitedly with it, and sat down under the shade of the trees; and

then, for the first time in her life, she opened her heart to somebody, although he could not understand her,

and told him her troubles; how hard her work was, her anxieties and her hopes, and she quite tired the child

She took the greatest pleasure in handling it, in washing and dressing it, for it seemed to her that all this was

the confirmation of her maternity; and she would look at it, almost feeling surprised 'that it was hers, and

would say to herself in a low voice as she danced it in her arms: "It is my baby, it's my baby."

She cried all the way home as she returned to the farm and had scarcely got in before her master called her

into his room; and she went, feeling astonished and nervous, without knowing why.

"Sit down there," he said. She sat down, and for some moments they remained side by side, in some

embarrassment, with their arms hanging at their sides, as if they did not know what to do with them, and

The farmer, a stout, jovial, obstinate man of fortyfive, who had lost two wives, evidently felt embarrassed,

which was very unusual with him; but, at last, he made. up his mind, and began to speak vaguely, hesitating a

little, and looking out of the window as he talked. "How is it, Rose," he said, "that you have never thought of

settling in life?" She grew as pale as death, and, seeing that she gave him no answer, he went on: "You are a

good, steady, active and economical girl; and a wife like you would make a man's fortune."

She did not move, but looked frightened; she did not even try to comprehend his meaning, for her thoughts

were in a whirl, as if at the approach of some great danger; so, after waiting for a few seconds, he went on:

"You see, a farm without a mistress can never succeed, even with a servant like you." Then he stopped, for he

did not know what else to say, and Rose looked at him with the air of a person who thinks that he is face to

face with a murderer and ready to flee at the slightest movement he may make; but, after waiting for about

five minutes, he asked her: "Well, will it suit you?" "Will what suit me, master?" And he said quickly: "Why,

She jumped up, but fell back on her chair, as if she had been struck, and there she remained motionless, like a

person who is overwhelmed by some great misfortune. At last the farmer grew impatient and said: "Come,

what more do you want?" She looked at him, almost in terror, then suddenly the tears came into her eves and

she said twice in a choking voice: "I cannot, I cannot!" "Why not?" he asked. "Come, don't be silly; I will

And he hurried out of the room, very glad to have got through with the matter, which had troubled him a

good deal, for he had no doubt that she would the next morning accept a proposal which she could never have

expected and which would be a capital bargain for him, as he thus bound a woman to his interests who would

Neither could there be any scruples about an unequal match between them, for in the country every one is

very nearly equal; the farmer works with his laborers, who frequently become masters in their turn, and the

female servants constantly become the mistresses of the establishments without its making any change in

Rose did not go to bed that night. She threw herself, dressed as she was, on her bed, and she had not even the

strength to cry left in her, she was so thoroughly dumfounded. She remained quite inert, scarcely knowing

that she had a body, and without being at all able to collect her thoughts, though, at moments, she

remembered something of what had happened, and then she was frightened at the idea of what might happen.

Her terror increased, and every time the great kitchen clock struck the hour she broke out in a perspiration

from grief. She became bewildered, and had the nightmare; her candle went out, and then she began to

imagine that some one bad cast a spell over her, as country people so often imagine, and she felt a mad

inclination to run away, to escape and to flee before her misfortune, like a ship scudding before the wind. An

owl hooted; she shivered, sat up, passed her hands over her face, her hair, and all over her body, and then she

went downstairs, as if she were walking in her sleep. When she got into the yard she stooped down, so as not

to be seen by any prowling scamp, for the moon, which was setting, shed a bright light over the fields.

Instead of opening the gate she scrambled over the fence, and as soon as she was outside she started off. She

went on straight before her, with a quick, springy trot, and from time to time she unconsciously uttered a

piercing cry. Her long shadow accompanied her, and now and then some night bird flew over her head, while

the dogs in the farmyards barked as they heard her pass; one even jumped over the ditch, and followed her

and tried to bite her, but she turned round and gave such a terrible yell that the frightened animal ran back and

The stars grew dim, and the birds began to twitter; day was breaking. The girl was worn out and panting; and

when the sun rose in the purple sky, she stopped, for her swollen feet refused to go any farther; but she saw a

pond in the distance, a large pond whose stagnant water looked like blood under the reflection of this new

day, and she limped on slowly with her hand on her heart, in order to dip both her feet in it. She sat down on

a tuft of grass, took off her heavy shoes, which were full of dust, pulled off her stockings and plunged her

A feeling of delicious coolness pervaded her from head to foot, and suddenly, while she was looking fixedly

at the deep pool, she was seized with dizziness, and with a mad longing to throw herself into it. All her

sufferings would be over in there, over forever. She no longer thought of her child; she only wanted peace,

complete rest, and to sleep forever, and she got up with raised arms and took two steps forward. She was in

the water up to her thighs, and she was just about to throw her self in when sharp, pricking pains in her ankles

made her jump back, and she uttered a cry of despair, for, from her knees to the tips of her feet, long black

leeches were sucking her lifeblood, and were swelling as they adhered to her flesh. She did not dare to touch

them, and screamed with horror, so that her cries of despair attracted a peasant, who was driving along at

some distance, to the spot. He pulled off the leeches one by one, applied herbs to the wounds, and drove the

She was in bed for a fortnight, and as she was sitting outside the door on the first morning that she got up, the

farmer suddenly came and planted himself before her. "Well," he said, "I suppose the affair is settled isn't it?"

She did not reply at first, and then, as he remained standing and looking at her intently with his piercing eyes,

she said with difficulty: "No, master, I cannot." He immediately flew into a rage.

"You cannot, girl; you cannot? I should just like to know the reason why?" She began to cry, and repeated: "I

cannot." He looked at her, and then exclaimed angrily: "Then I suppose you have a lover?" "Perhaps that is

The man got as red as a poppy, and stammered out in a rage: "Ah! So you confess it, you slut! And pray who

is the fellow? Some penniless, half starved ragamuffin, without a roof to his head, I suppose? Who is it, I

say?" And as she gave him no answer, he continued: "Ah! So you will not tell me. Then I will tell you; it is

Jean Baudu?' "No, not he," she exclaimed. "Then it is Pierre Martin?" "Oh! no, master."

And he angrily mentioned all the young fellows in the neighborhood, while she denied that he had hit upon

the right one, and every moment wiped her eyes with the corner of her blue apron. But he still tried to find it

out, with his brutish obstinacy, and, as it were, scratching at her heart to discover her secret, just as a terrier

scratches at a hole to try and get at the animal which he scents inside it. Suddenly, however, the man shouted:

"By George! It is Jacques, the man who was here last year. They used to say that you were always talking

Rose was choking, and she grew scarlet, while her tears suddenly stopped and dried up on her cheeks, like

drops of water on hot iron, and she exclaimed: "No, it is not he, it is not he!" "Is that really a fact?" asked the

cunning peasant, who partly guessed the truth; and she replied, hastily: "I will swear it; I will swear it to

you" She tried to think of something by which to swear, as she did not venture to invoke sacred things, but

he interrupted her: "At any rate, he used to follow you into every corner and devoured you with his eyes at

This time she looked her master straight in the face. "No, never, never; I will solemnly swear to you that if he

were to come today and ask me to marry him I would have nothing to do with him." She spoke with such an

air of sincerity that the farmer hesitated, and then he continued, as if speaking to himself:. "What, then? You

have not had a misfortune, as they call it, or it would have been known, and as it has no consequences, no girl

would refuse her master on that account. There must be something at the bottom of it, however."

She could say nothing; she had not the strength to speak, and he asked her again: "You will not?" "I cannot,

She thought she had got rid of him altogether and spent the rest of the day almost tranquilly, but was as

exhausted as if she had been turning the thrashing machine all day in the place of the old white horse, and she

went to bed as soon as she could and fell asleep immediately. In the middle of the night, however, two hands

touching the bed woke her. She . trembled with fear, but immediately recognized the farmer's voice, when he

said to her: "Don't be frightened, Rose; I have come to speak to you." She was surprised at first, but when he

tried to take liberties with her she understood and began to tremble violently, as she felt quite alone in the

darkness, still heavy from sleep, and quite unprotected, with that man standing near her. She certainly did not

consent, but she resisted carelessly struggling against that instinct which is always strong in simple natures

and very imperfectly protected by the undecided will of inert and gentle races. She turned her head now to the

wall, and now toward the room, in order to avoid the attentions which the farmer tried to press on her, but she

They lived together as man and wife, and one morning he said to her: "I have put up our banns, and we will

She did not reply, for what could she say? She did not resist, for what could she do?

She married him. She felt as if she were in a pit with inaccessible sides from which she could never get out,

and all kinds of misfortunes were hanging over her head, like huge rocks, which would fall on the first

occasion. Her husband gave her the impression of a man whom she had robbed, and who would find it out

some day or other. And then she thought of her child, who was the cause of her misfortunes, but who was

also the cause of all her happiness on earth, and whom she went to see twice a year, though she came back

But she gradually grew accustomed to her life, her fears were allayed, her heart was at rest, and she lived with

an easier mind, though still with some vague fear floating in it. And so years went on, until the child was six.

For two or three years he seemed to have been nursing some secret anxiety, to be troubled by some care,

some mental disturbance, which was gradually increasing. He remained sitting at table after dinner, with his

head in his hands, sad and devoured by sorrow. He always spoke hastily, sometimes even brutally, and it

even seemed as if he had a grudge against his wife, for at times he answered her roughly, almost angrily.

One day, when a neighbor's boy came for some eggs, and she spoke rather crossly to him, as she was very

busy, her husband suddenly came in and said to her in his unpleasant voice: "If that were your own child you

would not treat him so." She was hurt and did not reply, and then she went back into the house, with all her

grief awakened afresh; and at dinner the farmer neither spoke to her nor looked at her, and he seemed to hate

her, to despise her, to know something about the affair at last. In consequence she lost her composure, and did

not venture to remain alone with him after the meal was over, but left the room and hastened to the church.

It was getting dusk; the narrow nave was in total darkness, but she heard footsteps in the choir, for the

sacristan was preparing the tabernacle lamp for the night. That spot of trembling light, which was lost in the

darkness of the. arches, looked to Rose like her last hope, and with her eyes fixed on it, she fell on her knees.

The chain rattled as the little lamp swung up into the air, and almost immediately the small bell rang out the

"Is Monsieur le Cure at home?" she asked. "Of course he is; this is his dinnertime." She trembled as she rang

the bell of the parsonage. The priest was just sitting down to dinner, and he made her sit down also. "Yes,

yes, I know all about it; your husband has mentioned the matter to me that brings you here." The poor woman

nearly fainted, and the priest continued: "What do you want, my child?" And he hastily swallowed several

spoonfuls of soup, some of which dropped on to his greasy cassock. But Rose did not venture to say anything

And she went out and returned to the farm without knowing what she was doing. The farmer was waiting for

her, as the laborers had gone away during her absence, and she fell heavily at his feet, and, shedding a flood

He began to shout and to swear: "What have I got against you? That I have no children, by . When a man

takes a wife it is not that they may live alone together to the end of their days. That is what I have against

you. When a cow has no calves she is not worth anything, and when a woman has no children she is also not

She began to cry, and said: "It is not my fault! It is not my fault!" He grew rather more gentle when he heard

that, and added: "I do not say that it is, but it is very provoking, all the same."

From that day forward she had only one thought: to have a child another child; she confided her wish to

everybody, and, in consequence of this, a neighbor told her of an infallible method. This was, to make her

husband drink a glass of water with a pinch of ashes in it every evening. The farmer consented to try it, but

without success; so they said to each other: "Perhaps there are some secret ways?" And they tried to find out.

They were told of a shepherd who lived ten leagues off, and so Vallin one day drove off to consult him. The

shepherd gave him a loaf on which he had made some marks; it was kneaded up with herbs, and each of them

was to eat a piece of it, but they ate the whole loaf without obtaining any results from it.

Next, a schoolmaster unveiled mysteries and processes of love which were unknown in the country, but

infallible, so he declared; but none of them had the desired effect. Then the priest advised them to make a

pilgrimage to the shrine at Fecamp. Rose went with the crowd and prostrated herself in the abbey, and,

mingling her prayers with the coarse desires of the peasants around her, she prayed that she might be fruitful

a second time; but it was in vain, and then she thought that she was being punished for her first fault, and she

was seized by terrible grief. She was wasting away with sorrow; her husband was also aging prematurely, and

Then war broke out between them; he called her names and beat her. They quarrelled all day long, and when

they were in their room together at night he flung insults and obscenities at her, choking with rage, until one

night, not being able to think of any means of making her suffer more he ordered her to get up and go and

stand out of doors in the rain until daylight. As she did not obey him, he seized her by the neck and began to

strike her in the face with his fists, but she said nothing and did not move. In his exasperation he knelt on her

stomach, and with clenched teeth, and mad with rage, he began to beat her. Then in her despair she rebelled,

and flinging him against the wall with a furious gesture, she sat up, and in an altered voice she hissed: "I have

had a child, I have had one! I had it by Jacques; you know Jacques. He promised to marry me, but he left this

The man was thunderstruck and could hardly speak, but at last he stammered out: "What are you saying?

What are you saying?" Then she began to sob, and amid her tears she continued: "That was the reason why I

did not want to marry you. I could not tell you, for you would have left me without any bread for my child.

You have never had any children, so you cannot understand, you cannot understand!"

He said again, mechanically, with increasing surprise: "You have a child? You have a child?"

"You took me by force, as I suppose you know? I did not want to marry you," she said, still sobbing.

Then he got up, lit the candle, and began to walk up and down, with his arms behind him. She was cowering

on the bed and crying, and suddenly he stopped in front of her, and said: "Then it is my fault that you have no

children?" She gave him no answer, and he began to walk up and down again, and then, stopping again, he

continued: "How old is your child?" "Just six," she whispered. "Why did you not tell me about it?" he asked.

He remained standing, motionless. "Come, get up," he said. She got up with some difficulty, and then, when

she was standing on the floor, he suddenly began to laugh with the hearty laugh of his good days, and, seeing

how surprised she was, he added: "Very well, we will go and fetch the child, as you and I can have none

She was so scared that if she had had the strength she would assuredly have run away, but the farmer rubbed

his hands and said: "I wanted to adopt one, and now we have found one. I asked the cure about an orphan

Then, still laughing, he kissed his weeping and agitated wife on both cheeks, and shouted out, as though she

could not hear him: "Come along, mother, we will go and see whether there is any soup left; I should not

She put on her petticoat and they went downstairs; and While she was kneeling in front of the fireplace and

lighting the fire under the saucepan, he continued to walk up and down the kitchen with long strides,

"Well, I am really glad of this; I am not saying it for form's sake, but I am glad, I am really very glad."

I had just finished breakfast with my old friend Georges Garin when the servant handed him a letter covered

And so he began to read the letter, which was written in a large English handwriting, crossed and recrossed in

every direction. He read them slowly, with serious attention and the interest which we only pay to things

"That was a curious story! I've never told you about it, I think. Yet it was a sentimental adventure, and it

really happened to me. That was a strange New Year's Day, indeed! It must have been twenty years ago, for I

"I was then an inspector in the Maritime Insurance Company, of which I am now director. I had arranged to

pass New Year's Day in Parissince it is customary to make that day a fetewhen I received a letter from

the manager, asking me to proceed at once to the island of Re, where a three masted vessel from

SaintNazaire, insured by us, had just been driven ashore. It was then eight o'clock in the morning. I arrived

at the office at ten to get my advices, and that evening I took the express, which put me down in La Rochelle

"I had two hours to wait before going aboard the boat for Re. So I made a tour of the town. It is certainly a

queer city, La Rochelle, with strong characteristics of its own streets tangled like a labyrinth, sidewalks

running under endless arcaded galleries like those of the Rue de Rivoli, but low, mysterious, built as if to

form a suitable setting for conspirators and making a striking background for those oldtime wars, the savage

heroic wars of religion. It is indeed the typical old Huguenot city, conservative, discreet, with no fine art to

show, with no wonderful monuments, such as make Rouen; but it is remarkable for its severe, somewhat

sullen look; it is a city of obstinate fighters, a city where fanaticism might well blossom, where the faith of

the Calvinists became enthusiastic and which gave birth to the plot of the 'Four Sergeants.'

"After I had wandered for some time about these curious streets, I went aboard the black, rotund little

steamboat which was to take me to the island of Re. It was called the Jean Guiton. It started with angry

puffings, passed between the two old towers which guard the harbor, crossed the roadstead and issued from

the mole built by Richelieu, the great stones of which can be seen at the water's edge, enclosing the town like

"It was one of those sad days which give one the blues, tighten the heart and take away all strength and

energy and forcea gray, cold day, with a heavy mist which was as wet as rain, as cold as frost, as bad to

"Under this low sky of dismal fog the shallow, yellow, sandy sea of all practically level beaches lay without a

wrinkle, without a movement, without life, a sea of turbid water, of greasy water, of stagnant water. The Jean

Guiton passed over it, rolling a little from habit, dividing the smooth, dark blue water and leaving behind a

"I began to talk to the captain, a little man with small feet, as round as his boat and rolling in the same

manner. I wanted some details of the disaster on which I was to draw up a report. A great squarerigged

threemaster, the Marie Joseph, of SaintNazaire, had gone ashore one night in a hurricane on the sands of

"The owner wrote us that the storm had thrown the ship so far ashore that it was impossible to float her and

that they had to remove everything which could be detached with the utmost possible haste. Nevertheless I

must examine the situation of the wreck, estimate what must have been her condition before the disaster and

decide whether all efforts had been used to get her afloat. I came as an agent of the company in order to give

"On receipt of my report, the manager would take what measures he might think necessary to protect our

"The captain of the Jean Guiton knew all about the affair, having been summoned with his boat to assist in

"He told me the story of the disaster. The Marie Joseph, driven by a furious gale lost her bearings completely

in the night, and steering by chance over a heavy foaming sea'a milksoup sea,' said the captainhad

gone ashore on those immense sand banks which make the coasts of this country look like limitless Saharas

"While talking I looked around and ahead. Between the ocean and the lowering sky lay an open space where

"And suddenly the captain stretched his right hand out before us, pointed to something almost imperceptible

"I was amazed. This black, almost imperceptible speck, which looked to me like a rock, seemed at least three

"'It's now nineforty, just high tide. Go down along the beach with your hands in your pockets after you've

had lunch at the Hotel du Dauphin, and I'll wager that at ten minutes to three, or three o'clock, you'll reach the

wreck without wetting your feet, and have from an hour and three quarters to two hours aboard of her; but

not more, or you'll be caught. The faster the sea goes out the faster it comes back. This coast is as flat as a

turtle! But start away at ten minutes to five, as I tell you, and at halfpast seven you will be again aboard of

the Jean Guiton, which will put you down this same evening on the quay at La Rochelle.'

"I thanked the captain and I went and sat down in the bow of the steamer to get a good look at the little city of

"It was just like all small seaports which serve as capitals of the barren islands scattered along the coasta

large fishing village, one foot on sea and one on shore, subsisting on fish and wild fowl, vegetables and

shellfish, radishes and mussels. The island is very low and little cultivated, yet it seems to be thickly

"After breakfast I climbed across a little promontory, and then, as the tide was rapidly falling, I started out

across the sands toward a kind of black rock which I could just perceive above the surface of the water, out a

"I walked quickly over the yellow plain. It was elastic, like flesh and seemed to sweat beneath my tread. The

sea had been there very lately. Now I perceived it at a distance, escaping out of sight, and I no longer could

distinguish the line which separated the sands from ocean. I felt as though I were looking at a gigantic

supernatural work of enchantment. The Atlantic had just now been before me, then it had disappeared into the

sands, just as scenery disappears through a trap; and I was now walking in the midst of a desert. Only the

feeling, the breath of the saltwater, remained in me. I perceived the smell of the wrack, the smell of the sea,

the good strong smell of sea coasts. I walked fast; I was no longer cold. I looked at the stranded wreck, which

grew in size as I approached, and came now to resemble an enormous shipwrecked whale.

"It seemed fairly to rise out of the ground, and on that great, flat, yellow stretch of sand assumed wonderful

proportions. After an hour's walk I at last reached it. It lay upon its side, ruined and shattered, its broken

bones showing as though it were an animal, its bones of tarred wood pierced with great bolts. The sand had

already invaded it, entering it by all the crannies, and held it and refused to let it go. It seemed to have taken

root in it. The bow had entered deep into this soft, treacherous beach, while the stern, high in air, seemed to

cast at heaven, like a cry of despairing appeal, the two white words on the black planking, Marie Joseph.

"I climbed upon this carcass of a ship by the lowest side; then, having reached the deck, I went below. The

daylight, which entered by the stovein hatches and the cracks in the sides, showed me dimly long dark

cavities full of demolished woodwork. They contained nothing but sand, which served as footsoil in this

"I began to take some notes about the condition of the ship. I was seated on a broken empty cask, writing by

the light of a great crack, through which I could perceive the boundless stretch of the strand. A strange

shivering of cold and loneliness ran over my skin from time to time, and I would often stop writing for a

moment to listen to the mysterious noises in the derelict: the noise of crabs scratching the planking with their

crooked claws; the noise of a thousand little creatures of the sea already crawling over this dead body or else

"Suddenly, very near me, I heard human voices. I started as though I had seen a ghost. For a second I really

thought I was about to see drowned men rise from the sinister depths of the hold, who would tell me about

their death. At any rate, it did not take me long to swing myself on deck. There, standing by the bows, was a

tall Englishman with three young misses. Certainly they were a good deal more frightened at seeing this

sudden apparition on the abandoned threemaster than I was at seeing them. The youngest girl turned and

ran, the two others threw their arms round their father. As for him, he opened his mouththat was the only

"Then he uttered a long sentence in English, in which I only distinguished the word 'gracious,' repeated

"As he was looking for a place to climb up I showed him the easiest way, and gave him a hand. He climbed

up. Then we helped up the three girls, who had now quite recovered their composure. They were charming,

especially the oldest, a blonde of eighteen, fresh as a flower, and very dainty and pretty! Ah, yes! the pretty

Englishwomen have indeed the look of tender sea fruit. One would have said of this one that she had just

risen out of the sands and that her hair had kept their tint. They all, with their exquisite freshness, make you

think of the delicate colors of pink seashells and of shining pearls hidden in the unknown depths of the

"She spoke French a little better than her father and acted as interpreter. I had to tell all about the shipwreck,

and I romanced as though I had been present at the catastrophe. Then the whole family descended into the

interior of the wreck. As soon as they had penetrated into this sombre, dimly lit cavity they uttered cries of

astonishment and admiration. Suddenly the father and his three daughters were holding sketchbooks in their

hands, which they had doubtless carried hidden somewhere in their heavy weatherproof clothes, and were

all beginning at once to make pencil sketches of this melancholy and weird place.

"They had seated themselves side by side on a projecting beam, and the four sketchbooks on the eight knees

were being rapidly covered with little black lines which were intended to represent the halfopened hulk of

"I continued to inspect the skeleton of the ship, and the oldest girl talked to me while she worked.

"They had none of the usual English arrogance; they were simple honest hearts of that class of continuous

travellers with which England covers the globe. The father was long and thin, with a red face framed in white

whiskers, and looking like a living sandwich, a piece of ham carved like a face between two wads of hair.

The daughters, who had long legs like young storks, were also thinexcept the oldest. All three were pretty,

"She had such a droll way of speaking, of laughing, of understanding and of not understanding, of raising her

eyes to ask a question (eyes blue as the deep ocean), of stopping her drawing a moment to make a guess at

what you meant, of returning once more to work, of saying 'yes' or 'no'that I could have listened and

"I listened and I immediately distinguished a low, steady, curious sound. I rose and looked out of the crack

"We were on deck in an instant. It was too late. The water circled us about and was running toward the coast

at tremendous speed. No, it did not run, it glided, crept, spread like an immense, limitless blot. The water was

barely a few centimeters deep, but the rising flood had gone so far that we no longer saw the vanishing line of

the imperceptible tide. "The Englishman wanted to jump. I held him back. Flight was impossible because of

the deep places which we had been obliged to go round on our way out and into which we should fall on our

"There was a minute of horrible anguish in our hearts. Then the little English girl began to smile and

"I tried to laugh, but fear held me, a fear which was cowardly and horrid and base and treacherous like the

tide. All the danger which we ran appeared to me at once. I wanted to shriek: 'Help!' But to whom?

"The two younger girls were clinging to their father, who looked in consternation at the measureless sea

"And we waited there a quarter of an hour, half an hour, indeed I don't know how long, watching that

creeping water growing deeper as it swirled around us, as though it were playing on the beach, which it had

"One of the young girls was cold, and we went below to shelter ourselves from the light but freezing wind

"I leaned over the hatchway. The ship was full of water. So we had to cower against the stern planking, which

"Darkness was now coming on, and we remained huddled together. I felt the shoulder of the little English girl

trembling against mine, her teeth chattering from time to time. But I also felt the gentle warmth of her body

through her ulster, and that warmth was as delicious to me as a kiss. We no longer spoke; we sat motionless,

mute, cowering down like animals in a ditch when a hurricane is raging. And, nevertheless, despite the night,

despite the terrible and increasing danger, I began to feel happy that I was there, glad of the cold and the

peril, glad of the long hours of darkness and anguish that I must pass on this plank so near this dainty, pretty

"I asked myself, 'Why this strange sensation of wellbeing and of joy?' "Why! Does one know? Because she

was there? Who? She, a little unknown English girl? I did not love her, I did not even know her. And for all

that, I was touched and conquered. I wanted to save her, to sacrifice myself for her, to commit a thousand

follies! Strange thing! How does it happen that the presence of a woman overwhelms us so? Is it the power of

her grace which enfolds us? Is it the seduction of her beauty and youth, which intoxicates one like wine?

"Is it not rather the touch of Love, of Love the Mysterious, who seeks constantly to unite two beings, who

"The silence of the darkness became terrible, the stillness of the sky dreadful, because we could hear vaguely

about us a slight, continuous sound, the sound of the rising tide and the monotonous plashing of the water

"Suddenly I heard the sound of sobs. The youngest of the girls was crying. Her father tried to console her,

and they began to talk in their own tongue, which I did not understand. I guessed that he was reassuring her

But I had taken it off and I covered her with it against her will. In the short struggle her hand touched mine. It

"For some minutes the air had been growing brisker, the dashing of the water stronger against the flanks of

the ship. I raised myself; a great gust of wind blew in my face. The wind was rising!

"Of course it was bad, it was certain death if any breakers, however feeble, should attack and shake the

wreck, which was already so shattered and disconnected that the first big sea would carry it off.

"So our anguish increased momentarily as the squalls grew stronger and stronger. Now the sea broke a little,

and I saw in the darkness white lines appearing and disappearing, lines of foam, while each wave struck the

"The English girl was trembling. I felt her shiver against me. And I had a wild desire to take her in my arms.

"Down there, before and behind us, to the left and right, lighthouses were shining along the

shorelighthouses white, yellow and red, revolving like the enormous eyes of giants who were watching us,

waiting eagerly for us to disappear. One of them in especial irritated me. It went out every thirty seconds and

it lit up again immediately. It was indeed an eye, that one, with its lid incessantly lowered over its fiery

"From time to time the Englishman struck a match to see the hour; then he put his watch back in his pocket.

Suddenly he said to me, over the heads of his daughters, with tremendous gravity:

"It was midnight. I held out my hand, which he pressed. Then he said something in English, and suddenly he

and his daughters began to sing 'God Save the Queen,' which rose through the black and silent air and

"At first I felt a desire to laugh; then I was seized by a powerful, strange emotion.

"It was something sinister and superb, this chant of the shipwrecked, the condemned, something like a prayer

and also like something grander, something comparable to the ancient 'Ave Caesar morituri te salutant.'

"When they had finished I asked my neighbor to sing a ballad alone, anything she liked, to make us forget our

terrors. She consented, and immediately her clear young voice rang out into the night. She sang something

which was doubtless sad, because the notes were long drawn out and hovered, like wounded birds, above the

"The sea was rising now and beating upon our wreck. As for me, I thought only of that voice. And I thought

also of the sirens. If a ship had passed near by us what would the sailors have said? My troubled spirit lost

itself in the dream! A siren! Was she not really a siren, this daughter of the sea, who had kept me on this

"But suddenly we were all five rolling on the deck, because the Marie Joseph had sunk on her right side. The

English girl had fallen upon me, and before I knew what I was doing, thinking that my last moment was

come, I had caught her in my arms and kissed her cheek, her temple and her hair.

"The father said, 'Kate!' The one whom I was holding answered 'Yes' and made a movement to free herself.

And at that moment I should have wished the ship to split in two and let me fall with her into the sea.

"I rose slowly, and suddenly I made out a light on the sea quite close to us. I shouted; they answered. It was a

boat sent out in search of us by the hotelkeeper, who had guessed at our imprudence.

"We were saved. I was in despair. They picked us up off our raft and they brought us back to SaintMartin.

"We had to separate the next day after much handshaking and many promises to write. They departed for

"I was hard hit. I wanted to ask this little girl to marry me. If we had passed eight days together, I should have

"Two years passed without my hearing a word from them. Then I received a letter from New York. She was

married and wrote to tell me. And since then we write to each other every year, on New Year's Day. She tells

me about her life, talks of her children, her sisters, never of her husband! Why? Ah! why? And as for me, I

only talk of the Marie Joseph. That was perhaps the only woman I have ever lovednothat I ever should

have loved. Ah, well! who can tell? Circumstances rule one. And thenand thenall passes. She must be

old now; I should not know her. Ah! she of the bygone time, she of the wreck! What a creature! Divine! She

writes me her hair is white. That caused me terrible pain. Ah! her yellow hair. No, my English girl exists no

When Sabot entered the inn at Martinville it was a signal for laughter. What a rogue he was, this Sabot! There

was a man who did not like priests, for instance! Oh, no, oh, no! He did not spare them, the scamp.

Sabot (Theodule), a master carpenter, represented liberal thought in Martinville. He was a tall, thin, than,

with gray, cunning eyes, and thin lips, and wore his hair plastered down on his temples. When he said: "Our

holy father, the pope" in a certain manner, everyone laughed. He made a point of working on Sunday during

the hour of mass. He killed his pig each year on Monday in Holy Week in order to have enough black

pudding to last till Easter, and when the priest passed by, he always said by way of a joke: "There goes one

The priest, a stout man and also very tall, dreaded him on account of his boastful talk which attracted

followers. The Abbe Maritime was a politic man, and believed in being diplomatic. There had been a rivalry

between them for ten years, a secret, intense, incessant rivalry. Sabot was municipal councillor, and they

thought he would become mayor, which would inevitably mean the final overthrow of the church.

The elections were about to take place. The church party was shaking in its shoes in Martinville.

One morning the cure set out for Rouen, telling his servant that he was going to see the archbishop. He

returned in two days with a joyous, triumphant air. And everyone knew the following day that the chancel of

the church was going to be renovated. A sum of six hundred francs had been contributed by the archbishop

out of his private fund. All the old pine pews were to be removed, and replaced by new pews made of oak. It

would be a big carpentering job, and they talked about it that very evening in all the houses in the village.

When he went through the village the following morning, the neighbors, friends and enemies, all asked him,

"It is a good piece of work; and will bring in not less than two or three per cent. profit."

Two days later, they heard that the work of renovation had been entrusted to Celestin Chambrelan, the

carpenter from Percheville. Then this was denied, and it was said that all the pews in the church were going

to be changed. That would be well worth the two thousand francs that had been demanded of the church

Theodule Sabot could not sleep for thinking about it. Never, in all the memory of man, had a country

carpenter undertaken a similar piece of work. Then a rumor spread abroad that the cure felt very grieved that

he had to give this work to a carpenter who was a stranger in the community, but that Sabot's opinions were a

Sabot knew it well. He called at the parsonage just as it was growing dark. The servant told him that the cure

Two attendants on the altar of the Virgin, two soar old maids, were decorating the altar for the month of

Mary, under the direction of the priest, who stood in the middle of the chancel with his portly paunch,

directing the two women who, mounted on chairs, were placing flowers around the tabernacle.

Sabot felt ill at ease in there, as though he were in the house of his greatest enemy, but the greed of gain was

gnawing at his heart. He drew nearer, holding his cap in his hand, and not paying any attention to the

"demoiselles de la Vierge," who remained standing startled, astonished, motionless on their chairs.

The priest replied without looking at him, all occupied as he was with the altar:

"Why, why," remarked Sabot and then was silent. He would have liked to retire now without saying anything,

but a glance at the chancel held him back. He saw sixteen seats that had to be remade, six to the right and

eight to the left, the door of the sacristy occupying the place of two. Sixteen oak seats, that would be worth at

most three hundred francs, and by figuring carefully one might certainly make two hundred francs on the

At the tone of the abbe, Theodule Sabot felt a chill run down his back and he once more had a longing to take

Then the abbe folded his arms across his large stomach and, as if filled with amazement, said:

"Is it youyouyou, Sabotwho have come to ask me for this . . . Youthe only irreligious man in my

parish! Why, it would be a scandal, a public scandal! The archbishop would give me a reprimand, perhaps

He stopped a few seconds, for breath, and then resumed in a calmer tone: "I can understand that it pains you

to see a work of such importance entrusted to a carpenter from a neighboring parish. But I cannot do

otherwise, unlessbut noit is impossibleyou would not consent, and unless you did, never."

Sabot now looked at the row of benches in line as far as the entrance door. Christopher, if they were going to

"I do not sayI do not say; perhaps we might come to an understanding," faltered Sabot.

"You will have to take communion publicly at high mass next Sunday," declared the cure.

"I do not say, I do not say. I am not calling it off, I am consenting to religion, for sure. But what rubs me the

wrong way is, putting it in practice; but in this case I will not be refractory."

The attendants of the Virgin, having got off their chairs had concealed themselves behind the altar; and they

The cure, seeing he had gained the victory, became all at once very friendly, quite familiar.

"That is good, that is good. That was wisely said, and not stupid, you understand. You will see, you will see."

"From the moment that the work is put into your hands, I want to be assured of your conversion."

"You understand perfectly that you must have a general cleaning up, a thorough cleansing. So I will expect

"Inthat box, over there in the corner? The fact isisthat it does not suit me, your box."

"Seeing thatseeing that I am not accustomed to that, and also I am rather hard of hearing."

"Well, then! you shall come to my house and into my parlor. We will have it just the two of us, teteatete.

"That is understood, that is all right, that is agreed on. Tomorrow, monsieur le cure. Whoever draws back is

And he held out his great rough hand which the priest grasped heartily with a clap that resounded through the

Theodule Sabot was not easy in his mind all the following day. He had a feeling analogous to the

apprehension one experiences when a tooth has to be drawn. The thought recurred to him at every moment: "I

must go to confession this evening." And his troubled mind, the mind of an atheist only half convinced, was

As soon as he had finished his work, he betook himself to the parsonage. The cure was waiting for him in the

garden, reading his breviary as he walked along a little path. He appeared radiant and greeted him with a

"If you do not mind I should like to get through with this little matter at once."

"I am at your service. I have my surplice here. One minute and I will listen to you."

The carpenter, so disturbed that he had not two ideas in his head, watched him as he put on the white

"The confiteor. If you do not remember it, repeat after me, one by one, the words I am going to say." And the

cure repeated the sacred prayer, in a slow tone, emphasizing the words which the carpenter repeated after

But Sabot was silent, not knowing where to begin. The abbe then came to his aid.

"My child, I will ask you questions, since you don't seem familiar with these things. We will take, one by

one, the commandments of God. Listen to me and do not be disturbed. Speak very frankly and never fear that

Have you ever loved anything, or anybody, as well as you loved God? Have you loved him with all your soul,

"No. Oh, no, m'sieu le cure. I love God as much as I can. That is yesI love him very much. To say that I

do not love my children, noI cannot say that. To say that if I had to choose between them and God, I could

not be sure. To say that if I had to lose a hundred francs for the love of God, I could not say about that. But I

love him well, for sure, I love him all the same." The priest said gravely "You must love Him more than all

besides." And Sabot, meaning well, declared "I will do what I possibly can, m'sieu le cure." The abbe

"Nooh, that, no! I never swear, never. Sometimes, in a moment of anger, I may say sacre nom de Dieu! But

"Why, I serve God as best I can, m'sieu le cure. I serve himat home. I work on Sunday."

"I know, you will do better in future. I will pass over the following commandments, certain that you have not

transgressed the two first. We will take from the sixth to the ninth. I will resume:

"Of course not, of course not! I am an honest man, m'sieu le cure, I swear it, for sure. To say that I have not

sometimes charged for a few more hours of work to customers who had means, I could not say that. To say

that I never add a few centimes to bills, only a few, I would not say that. But to steal, no! Oh, not that, no!"

"No, as to that, no. I am not a liar. That is my quality. To say that I have never told a big story, I would not

like to say that. To say that I have never made people believe things that were not true when it was to my own

"As to that, no; oh, as to that, no, m'sieu le Cure. My poor wife, deceive her! No, no! Not so much as the tip

They were silent a few seconds, then, in a lower tone, as though a doubt had arisen in his mind, he resumed:

"When I go to town, to say that I never go into a house, you know, one of the licensed houses, just to laugh

and talk and see something different, I could not say that. But I always pay, monsieur le cure, I always pay.

From the moment you pay, without anyone seeing or knowing you, no one can get you into trouble."

Quartermaster Varajou had obtained a week's leave to go and visit his sister, Madame Padoie. Varajou, who

was in garrison at Rennes and was leading a pretty gay life, finding himself high and dry, wrote to his sister

saying that he would devote a week to her. It was not that he cared particularly for Mme. Padoie, a little

moralist, a devotee, and always cross; but he needed money, needed it very badly, and he remembered that, of

all his relations, the Padoies were the only ones whom he had never approached on the subject.

Pere Varajou, formerly a horticulturist at Angers, but now retired from business, had closed his purse strings

to his scapegrace son and had hardly seen him for two years. His daughter had married Padoie, a former

Varajou, on leaving the train, had some one direct him to the house of his brotherinlaw, whom he found in

his office arguing with the Breton peasants of the neighborhood. Padoie rose from his seat, held out his hand

across the table littered with papers, murmured, "Take a chair. I will be at liberty in a moment," sat down

The peasants did not understand his explanations, the collector did not understand their line of argument. He

spoke French, they spoke Breton, and the clerk who acted as interpreter appeared not to understand either.

It lasted a long time, a very long lime. Varajou looked at his brother inlaw and thought: "What a fool!"

Padoie must have been almost fifty. He was tall, thin, bony, slow, hairy, with heavy arched eyebrows. He

wore a velvet skull cap with a gold cord vandyke design round it. His look was gentle, like his actions. His

speech, his gestures, his thoughts, all were soft. Varajou said to himself, "What a fool!"

He, himself, was one of those noisy roysterers for whom the greatest pleasures in life are the cafe and

abandoned women. He understood nothing outside of these conditions of existence.

A boisterous braggart, filled with contempt for the rest of the world, he despised the entire universe from the

height of his ignorance. When he said: "Nom d'un chien, what a spree!" he expressed the highest degree of

"Quite well, thank you. It is very kind of you to have thought of coming to see us."

"Oh, I have been thinking of it for some time; but, you know, in the military profession one has not much

"She is making some calls. We have a great many friends here; it is a very nice town."

The door opened and Mme. Padoie appeared. She went over to her brother without any eagerness, held her

They went into the adjoining room, leaving Padoie to his accounts and his taxpayers. As soon as they were

"It seems that you are behaving like a blackguard, getting drunk and contracting debts."

He attempted to defend himself, but she gave him such a lecture that he could say nothing more.

"We dine at six o'clock, and you can amuse yourself until then. I cannot entertain you, as I have so many

When he was alone he hesitated as to whether he should sleep or take a walk. He looked first at the door

leading to his room and then at the hall door, and decided to go out. He sauntered slowly through the quiet

Breton town, so sleepy, so calm, so dead, on the shores of its inland bay that is called "le Morbihan." He

looked at the little gray houses, the occasional pedestrians, the empty stores, and he murmured:

He reached the harbor, the desolate harbor, walked back along a lonely, deserted boulevard, and got home

before five o'clock. Then he threw himself on his bed to sleep till dinner time. The maid woke him, knocking

He went downstairs. In the damp diningroom with the paper peeling from the walls near the floor, he saw a

soup tureen on a round table without any table cloth, on which were also three melancholy soupplates.

M. and Mme. Padoie entered the room at the same time as Varajou. They all sat down to table, and the

husband and wife crossed themselves over the pit of their stomachs, after which Padoie helped the soup, a

After the soup, they had the beef, which was done to rags, melted, greasy, like pap. The officer ate slowly,

"Do not stay late. You always get so tired when you go out. You are not made for society, with your poor

She then talked about society in Vannes, of the excellent social circle in which the Padoies moved, thanks to

A puree of potatoes and a dish of pork were next served, in honor of the guest. Then some cheese, and that

When Varajou saw that he would have to spend the evening teteatete with his sister, endure her

reproaches, listen to her sermons, without even a glass of liqueur to help him to swallow these remonstrances,

he felt that he could not stand the torture, and declared that he was obliged to go to the police station to have

something attended to regarding his leave of absence. And he made his escape at seven o'clock.

He had scarcely reached the street before he gave himself a shake like a dog coming out of the water. He

And he set out to look for a cafe, the best in the town. He found it on a public square, behind two gas lamps.

Inside the cafe, five or six men, semigentlemen, and not noisy, were drinking and chatting quietly, leaning

their elbows on the small tables, while two billiard players walked round the green baize, where the balls

"Eighteennineteen. No luck. Oh, that's a good stroke! Well played! Eleven. You should have played on the

"A demitasse and a small decanter of brandy, the best." Then he sat down and waited for it.

He was accustomed to spending his evenings off duty with his companions, amid noise and the smoke of

pipes. This silence, this quiet, exasperated him. He began to drink; first the coffee, then the brandy, and asked

for another decanter. He now wanted to laugh, to shout, to sing, to fight some one. He said to himself:

And he thought he would go and look for some girls to amuse him. He called the waiter:

The boy approached and lowering his voice, said: "You want to know where they live?"

"You take the second street to the left and then the first to the right. It is number fifteen."

And Varajou went out of the cafe, repeating, "Second to the left, first to the right, number 15." But at the end

of a few seconds he thought, "second to the left yes. But on leaving the cafe must I walk to the right or the

And he walked on, turned down the second street to the left, then the first to the right and looked for number

15. It was a nice looking house, and one could see behind the closed blinds that the windows were lighted up

on the first floor. The hall door was left partly open, and a lamp was burning in the vestibule. The

He ascended the stairs, opened a door and saw sitting in a room well lighted up by two lamps, a chandelier,

and two candelabras with candles in them, four ladies in evening dress, apparently expecting some one.

Three of them, the younger ones, remained seated, with rather a formal air, on some crimson velvet chairs;

while the fourth, who was about fortyfive, was arranging some flowers in a vase. She was very stout, and

wore a green silk dress with low neck and short sleeves, allowing her red neck, covered with powder, to

He sat down. But seeing that they did not welcome him eagerly, he thought that possibly only commissioned

He could think of nothing else to say, and they were all silent. But at last, being ashamed of his bashfulness,

"Do not people have any amusement in this country? I will pay for a bottle of wine."

He had not finished his sentence when the door opened, and in walked Padoie dressed in a black suit.

Varajou gave a shout of joy, and rising from his seat, he rushed at his brotherinlaw, put his arms round him

"Oh, oh, oh, you scamp, you scamp! You are out for a good time, too. Oh, you scamp! And my sister! Are

As he thought of all that he might gain through this unexpected situation, the forced loan, the inevitable

blackmail, he flung himself on the lounge and laughed so heartily that the piece of furniture creaked all over.

The three young ladies, rising simultaneously, made their escape, while the older woman retreated to the door

And then two gentlemen appeared in evening dress, and wearing the ribbon of an order. Padoie rushed up to

"Oh, judgehe is crazy, he is crazy. He was sent to us as a convalescent. You can see that he is crazy."

Varajou was sitting up now, and not being able to understand it all, he guessed that he had committed some

"What housewhatwhat house is this? Wretchscoundrelvillainwhat house, indeed? The house of

the judgeof the judge of the Supreme Courtof the Supreme Courtof the Supreme CourtOh,

The girl was one of those pretty and charming young creatures who sometimes are born, as if by a slip of fate,

into a family of clerks. She had no dowry, no expectations, no way of being known, understood, loved,

married by any rich and distinguished man; so she let herself be married to a little clerk of the Ministry of

She dressed plainly because she could not dress well, but she was unhappy as if she had really fallen from a

higher station; since with women there is neither caste nor rank, for beauty, grace and charm take the place of

family and birth. Natural ingenuity, instinct for what is elegant, a supple mind are their sole hierarchy, and

Mathilde suffered ceaselessly, feeling herself born to enjoy all delicacies and all luxuries. She was distressed

at the poverty of her dwelling, at the bareness of the walls, at the shabby chairs, the ugliness of the curtains.

All those things, of which another woman of her rank would never even have been conscious, tortured her

and made her angry. The sight of the little Breton peasant who did her humble housework aroused in her

despairing regrets and bewildering dreams. She thought of silent antechambers hung with Oriental tapestry,

illumined by tall bronze candelabra, and of two great footmen in knee breeches who sleep in the big

armchairs, made drowsy by the oppressive heat of the stove. She thought of long reception halls hung with

ancient silk, of the dainty cabinets containing priceless curiosities and of the little coquettish perfumed

reception rooms made for chatting at five o'clock with intimate friends, with men famous and sought after,

When she sat down to dinner, before the round table covered with a tablecloth in use three days, opposite her

husband, who uncovered the soup tureen and declared with a delighted air, "Ah, the good soup! I don't know

anything better than that," she thought of dainty dinners, of shining silverware, of tapestry that peopled the

walls with ancient personages and with strange birds flying in the midst of a fairy forest; and she thought of

delicious dishes served on marvellous plates and of the whispered gallantries to which you listen with a

sphinxlike smile while you are eating the pink meat of a trout or the wings of a quail.

She had no gowns, no jewels, nothing. And she loved nothing but that. She felt made for that. She would

She had a friend, a former schoolmate at the convent, who was rich, and whom she did not like to go to see

But one evening her husband reached home with a triumphant air and holding a large envelope in his hand.

Instead of being delighted, as her husband had hoped, she threw the invitation on the table crossly, muttering:

"Why, my dear, I thought you would be glad. You never go out, and this is such a fine opportunity. I had

great trouble to get it. Every one wants to go; it is very select, and they are not giving many invitations to

He stopped, distracted, seeing that his wife was weeping. Two great tears ran slowly from the corners of her

By a violent effort she conquered her grief and replied in a calm voice, while she wiped her wet cheeks:

"Nothing. Only I have no gown, and, therefore, I can't go to this ball. Give your card to some colleague

"Come, let us see, Mathilde. How much would it cost, a suitable gown, which you could use on other

She reflected several seconds, making her calculations and wondering also what sum she could ask without

drawing on herself an immediate refusal and a frightened exclamation from the economical clerk.

He grew a little pale, because he was laying aside just that amount to buy a gun and treat himself to a little

shooting next summer on the plain of Nanterre, with several friends who went to shoot larks there of a

"Very well. I will give you four hundred francs. And try to have a pretty gown."

The day of the ball drew near and Madame Loisel seemed sad, uneasy, anxious. Her frock was ready,

"It annoys me not to have a single piece of jewelry, not a single ornament, nothing to put on. I shall look

"You might wear natural flowers," said her husband. "They're very stylish at this time of year. For ten francs

"No; there's nothing more humiliating than to look poor among other women who are rich."

"How stupid you are!" her husband cried. "Go look up your friend, Madame Forestier, and ask her to lend

Madame Forestier went to a wardrobe with a mirror, took out a large jewel box, brought it back, opened it

She saw first some bracelets, then a pearl necklace, then a Venetian gold cross set with precious stones, of

admirable workmanship. She tried on the ornaments before the mirror, hesitated and could not make up her

Suddenly she discovered, in a black satin box, a superb diamond necklace, and her heart throbbed with an

immoderate desire. Her hands trembled as she took it. She fastened it round her throat, outside her

She threw her arms round her friend's neck, kissed her passionately, then fled with her treasure.

The night of the ball arrived. Madame Loisel was a great success. She was prettier than any other woman

present, elegant, graceful, smiling and wild with joy. All the men looked at her, asked her name, sought to be

introduced. All the attaches of the Cabinet wished to waltz with her. She was remarked by the minister

She danced with rapture, with passion, intoxicated by pleasure, forgetting all in the triumph of her beauty, in

the glory of her success, in a sort of cloud of happiness comprised of all this homage, admiration, these

awakened desires and of that sense of triumph which is so sweet to woman's heart.

She left the ball about four o'clock in the morning. Her husband had been sleeping since midnight in a little

deserted anteroom with three other gentlemen whose wives were enjoying the ball.

He threw over her shoulders the wraps he had brought, the modest wraps of common life, the poverty of

which contrasted with the elegance of the ball dress. She felt this and wished to escape so as not to be

Loisel held her back, saying: "Wait a bit. You will catch cold outside. I will call a cab."

But she did not listen to him and rapidly descended the stairs. When they reached the street they could not

find a carriage and began to look for one, shouting after the cabmen passing at a distance.

They went toward the Seine in despair, shivering with cold. At last they found on the quay one of those

ancient night cabs which, as though they were ashamed to show their shabbiness during the day, are never

It took them to their dwelling in the Rue des Martyrs, and sadly they mounted the stairs to their flat. All was

ended for her. As to him, he reflected that he must be at the ministry at ten o'clock that morning.

She removed her wraps before the glass so as to see herself once more in all her glory. But suddenly she

They looked among the folds of her skirt, of her cloak, in her pockets, everywhere, but did not find it.

"But if you had lost it in the street we should have heard it fall. It must be in the cab."

"I shall go back on foot," said he, "over the whole route, to see whether I can find it."

He went out. She sat waiting on a chair in her ball dress, without strength to go to bed, overwhelmed, without

He went to police headquarters, to the newspaper offices to offer a reward; he went to the cab

She waited all day, in the same condition of mad fear before this terrible calamity.

"You must write to your friend," said he, "that you have broken the clasp of her necklace and that you are

At the end of a week they had lost all hope. Loisel, who had aged five years, declared:

The next day they took the box that had contained it and went to the jeweler whose name was found within.

"It was not I, madame, who sold that necklace; I must simply have furnished the case."

Then they went from jeweler to jeweler, searching for a necklace like the other, trying to recall it, both sick

They found, in a shop at the Palais Royal, a string of diamonds that seemed to them exactly like the one they

So they begged the jeweler not to sell it for three days yet. And they made a bargain that he should buy it

back for thirtyfour thousand francs, in case they should find the lost necklace before the end of February.

Loisel possessed eighteen thousand francs which his father had left him. He would borrow the rest.

He did borrow, asking a thousand francs of one, five hundred of another, five louis here, three louis there. He

gave notes, took up ruinous obligations, dealt with usurers and all the race of lenders. He compromised all the

rest of his life, risked signing a note without even knowing whether he could meet it; and, frightened by the

trouble yet to come, by the black misery that was about to fall upon him, by the prospect of all the physical

privations and moral tortures that he was to suffer, he went to get the new necklace, laying upon the jeweler's

When Madame Loisel took back the necklace Madame Forestier said to her with a chilly manner:

She did not open the case, as her friend had so much feared. If she had detected the substitution, what would

she have thought, what would she have said? Would she not have taken Madame Loisel for a thief?

Thereafter Madame Loisel knew the horrible existence of the needy. She bore her part, however, with sudden

heroism. That dreadful debt must be paid. She would pay it. They dismissed their servant; they changed their

She came to know what heavy housework meant and the odious cares of the kitchen. She washed the dishes,

using her dainty fingers and rosy nails on greasy pots and pans. She washed the soiled linen, the shirts and the

dishcloths, which she dried upon a line; she carried the slops down to the street every morning and carried up

the water, stopping for breath at every landing. And dressed like a woman of the people, she went to the

fruiterer, the grocer, the butcher, a basket on her arm, bargaining, meeting with impertinence, defending her

Her husband worked evenings, making up a tradesman's accounts, and late at night he often copied

At the end of ten years they had paid everything, everything, with the rates of usury and the accumulations of

Madame Loisel looked old now. She had become the woman of impoverished householdsstrong and hard

and rough. With frowsy hair, skirts askew and red hands, she talked loud while washing the floor with great

swishes of water. But sometimes, when her husband was at the office, she sat down near the window and she

thought of that gay evening of long ago, of that ball where she had been so beautiful and so admired.

What would have happened if she had not lost that necklace? Who knows? who knows? How strange and

But one Sunday, having gone to take a walk in the Champs Elysees to refresh herself after the labors of the

week, she suddenly perceived a woman who was leading a child. It was Madame Forestier, still young, still

Madame Loisel felt moved. Should she speak to her? Yes, certainly. And now that she had paid, she would

The other, astonished to be familiarly addressed by this plain goodwife, did not recognize her at all and

"Yes, I have had a pretty hard life, since I last saw you, and great povertyand that because of you!"

"Do you remember that diamond necklace you lent me to wear at the ministerial ball?"

"I brought you back another exactly like it. And it has taken us ten years to pay for it. You can understand

that it was not easy for us, for us who had nothing. At last it is ended, and I am very glad."

"Oh, my poor Mathilde! Why, my necklace was paste! It was worth at most only five hundred francs!"

Roger de Tourneville was whiffing a cigar and blowing out small clouds of smoke every now and then, as he

"We were at dinner when a letter was brought in which my father opened. You know my father, who thinks

that he is king of France ad interim. I call him Don Quixote, because for twelve years he has been running a

tilt against the windmill of the Republic, without quite knowing whether it was in the cause of the Bourbons

or the Orleanists. At present he is bearing the lance in the cause of the Orleanists alone, because there is no

one else left. In any case, he thinks himself the first gentleman of France, the best known, the most

influential, the head of the party; and as he is an irremovable senator, he thinks that the thrones of the

"As for my mother, she is my father's soul, she is the soul of the kingdom and of religion, and the scourge of

"Well, a letter was brought in while we were at dinner, and my father opened and read it, and then he said to

mother: 'Your brother is dying.' She grew very pale. My uncle was scarcely ever mentioned in the house, and

I did not know him at all; all I knew from public talk was, that he had led, and was still leading, a gay life.

After having spent his fortune in fast living, he was now in small apartments in the Rue des Martyrs.

"An ancient peer of France and former colonel of cavalry, it was said that he believed in neither God nor

devil. Not believing, therefore, in a future life he had abused the present life in every way, and had become a

"'Give me that letter, Paul,' she said, and when she read it, I asked for it in my turn. Here it is:

"'We must take counsel,' papa murmured. 'In my position, I ought to watch over your brother's last moments.'

"Mamma continued: 'I will send for Abbe Poivron and ask his advice, and then I will go to my brother with

the abbe and Roger. Remain here, Paul, for you must not compromise yourself; but a woman can, and ought

to do these things. For a politician in your position, it is another matter. It would be a fine thing for one of

your opponents to be able to bring one of your most laudable actions up against you.' 'You are right,' my

"A quarter of an hour, later, the Abbe Poivron came into the drawing room, and the situation was explained

to him, analyzed and discussed in all its bearings. If the Marquis de Fumerol, one of the greatest names in

France, were to die without the ministrations of religion, it would assuredly be a terrible blow to the nobility

in general, and to the Count de Tourneville in particular, and the freethinkers would be triumphant. The

liberal newspapers would sing songs of victory for six months; my mother's name would be dragged through

the mire and brought into the prose of Socialistic journals, and my father's name would be smirched. It was

"A crusade was therefore immediately decided upon, which was to be led by the Abbe Poivron, a little, fat,

clean, priest with a faint perfume about him, a true vicar of a large church in a noble and rich quarter.

"The landau was ordered and we all three set out, my mother, the cure and I, to administer the last sacraments

"It had been decided first of all we should see Madame Melanie who had written the letter, and who was most

likely the porter's wife, or my uncle's servant, and I dismounted, as an advance guard, in front of a

sevenstory house and went into a dark passage, where I had great difficulty in finding the porter's den. He

"'Madame Melanie, if you please.' 'Don't know her!' 'But I have received a letter from her.' 'That may be, but I

don't know her. Are you asking for a lodger?' 'No, a servant probably. She wrote me about a place.' 'A

servant?a servant? Perhaps it is the marquis'. Go and see, the fifth story on the left.'

"As soon as he found I was not asking for a doubtful character he became more friendly and came as far as

the corridor with me. He was a tall, thin man with white whiskers, the manners of a beadle and majestic

"I climbed up a long spiral staircase, the railing of which I did not venture to touch, and I gave three discreet

knocks at the lefthand door on the fifth story. It opened immediately, and an enormous dirty woman

appeared before me. She barred the entrance with her extended arms which she placed against the two

"'What do you want?' 'Are you Madame Melanie?' 'Yes.' 'I am the Visconte de Tourneville.' 'Ah! All right!

Come in.' 'Well, the fact is, my mother is downstairs with a priest.' 'Oh! All right; go and bring them up; but

"I went downstairs and came up again with my mother, who was followed by the abbe, and I fancied that I

heard other footsteps behind us. As soon as we were in the kitchen, Melanie offered us chairs, and we all four

"'Is he very ill?' my mother asked. 'Oh! yes, madame; he will not be here long.' 'Does he seem disposed to

receive a visit from a priest?' 'Oh! I do not think so.' 'Can I see him?' 'Wellyes madameonly

onlythose young ladies are with him.' 'What young ladies?' 'Whywhy his lady friends, of course.'

"The affair began to amuse me, and I said: 'Suppose I go in first? I shall see how he receives me, and perhaps

"My mother, who did not suspect any trick, replied: 'Yes, go, my dear.' But a woman's voice cried out:

"The servant ran out and said: 'What do you want, Mademoiselle Claire?' 'The omelette; quickly.' 'In a

"They had ordered a cheese omelette at two o'clock as a slight collation. And she at once began to break the

eggs into a salad bowl, and to whip them vigorously, while I went out on the landing and pulled the bell, so

as to formally announce my arrival. Melanie opened the door to me, and made me sit down in an anteroom,

while she went to tell my uncle that I had come; then she came back and asked me to go in, while the abbe

"I was certainly very much surprised at the sight of my uncle, for he was very handsome, very solemn and

"Sitting, almost lying, in a large armchair, his legs wrapped in blankets, his hands, his long, white hands, over

the arms of the chair, he was waiting for death with the dignity of a patriarch. His white beard fell on his

"Standing behind his armchair, as if to defend him against me, were two young women, who looked at me

with bold eyes. In their petticoats and morning wrappers, with bare arms, with coal black hair twisted in a

knot on the nape of their neck, with embroidered, Oriental slippers, which showed their ankles and silk

stockings, they looked like the figures in some symbolical painting, by the side of the dying man. Between

the easychair and the bed, there was a table covered with a white cloth, on which two plates, two glasses,

two forks and two knives, were waiting for the cheese omelette which had been ordered some time before of

'Goodmorning, my child; it is rather late in the day to come and see me; our acquaintanceship will not last

long.' I stammered out, 'It was not my fault, uncle:' 'No; I know that,' he replied. 'It is your father and mother's

fault more than yours. How are they?' 'Pretty well, thank you. When they heard that you were ill, they sent me

"I looked up at the two girls and said gently: 'It is not their fault if they could not come, uncle. But it would

be difficult for my father, and impossible for my mother to come in here.' The old man did not reply, but

raised his hand toward mine, and I took the pale, cold hand and held it in my own.

"The door opened, Melanie came in with the omelette and put it on the table, and the two girls immediately

sat down at the table, and began to eat without taking their eyes off me. Then I said: 'Uncle, it would give

great pleasure to my mother to embrace you.' 'I also,' he murmured, 'should like' He said no more, and I

could think of nothing to propose to him, and there was silence except for the noise of the plates and that

"Now, the abbe, who was listening behind the door, seeing our embarrassment, and thinking we had won the

game, thought the time had come to interpose, and showed himself. My uncle was so stupefied at sight of him

that at first he remained motionless; and then he opened his mouth as if he meant to swallow up the priest,

"The abbe, who was used to difficult situations, came forward into the room, murmuring: 'I have come in

your sister's name, Monsieur le Marquis; she has sent me. She would be happy, monsieur'

"But the marquis was not listening. Raising one hand, he pointed to the door with a proud, tragic gesture, and

said angrily and breathing hard: 'Leave this roomgo outrobber of souls. Go out from here, you violator

"The abbe retreated, and I also went to the door, beating a retreat with the priest; the two young women, who

had the best of it, got up, leaving their omelette only half eaten, and went and stood on either side of my

uncle's easychair, putting their hands on his arms to calm him, and to protect him against the criminal

"The abbe and I rejoined my mother in the kitchen, and Melanie again offered us chairs. 'I knew quite well

that this method would not work; we must try some other means, otherwise he will escape us.' And they

began deliberating afresh, my mother being of one opinion and the abbe of another, while I held a third.

"We had been discussing the matter in a low voice for half an hour, perhaps, when a great noise of furniture

being moved and of cries uttered by my uncle, more vehement and terrible even than the former had been,

"Through the doors and walls we could hear him shouting: 'Go outout rascalshumbugs, get out,

"Melanie rushed in, but came back immediately to call me to help her, and I hastened in. Opposite to my

uncle, who was terribly excited by anger, almost standing up and vociferating, stood two men, one behind the

"By his ridiculous long coat, his long English shoes, his manners of a tutor out of a position, his high collar,

white necktie and straight hair, his humble face of a false priest of a bastard religion, I immediately

"The second was the porter of the house, who belonged to the reformed religion and had followed us, and

having seen our defeat, had gone to fetch his own pastor, in hopes that he might meet a better reception. My

uncle seemed mad with rage! If the sight of the Catholic priest, of the priest of his ancestors, had irritated the

Marquis de Fumerol, who had become a freethinker, the sight of his porter's minister made him altogether

beside himself. I therefore took the two men by the arm and threw them out of the room so roughly that they

bumped against each other twice, between the two doors which led to the staircase; and then I disappeared in

my turn and returned to the kitchen, which was our headquarters in order to take counsel with my mother and

"My mother rushed out. My uncle had fallen to the ground, and lay full length along the floor, without

moving. I fancy he was already dead. My mother was superb at that moment! She went straight up to the two

girls who were kneeling by the body and trying to raise it up, and pointing to the door with irresistible

authority, dignity and majesty, she said: 'Now it is time for you to leave the room.'

"And they went out without a word of protest. I must add, that I was getting ready to turn them out as

"Then the Abbe Poivron administered the last sacraments to my uncle with all the customary prayers, and

remitted all his sins, while my mother sobbed as she knelt near her brother. Suddenly, however, she

exclaimed: 'He recognized me; he pressed my hand; I am sure he recognized me!!!and that he thanked me!

"'Madame,' Melanie said, 'we have no sheets to bury him in; all the linen belongs to these two young ladies,'

and when I looked at the omelette which they had not finished, I felt inclined to laugh and to cry at the same

time. There are some humorous moments and some humorous situations in life, occasionally!

"We gave my uncle a magnificent fungal, with five speeches at the grave. Baron de Croiselles, the senator,

showed in admirable terms that God always returns victorious into wellborn souls which have temporarily

been led into error. All the members of the Royalist and Catholic party followed the funeral procession with

the enthusiasm of victors, as they spoke of that beautiful death after a somewhat troublous life."

Viscount Roger ceased speaking; his audience was laughing. Then somebody said: "Bah! That is the story of

On the morning of July 8th I received the following telegram: "Fine day. Always my predictions. Belgian

frontier. Baggage and servants left at noon at the social session. Beginning of manoeuvres at three. So I will

At five o'clock sharp I entered the gas works of La Villette. It might have been mistaken for the colossal ruins

of an old town inhabited by Cyclops. There were immense dark avenues separating heavy gasometers

standing one behind another, like monstrous columns, unequally high and, undoubtedly, in the past the

The balloon was lying in the courtyard and had the appearance of a cake made of yellow cloth, flattened on

the ground under a rope. That is called placing a balloon in a sweepnet, and, in fact, it appeared like an

Two or three hundred people were looking at it, sitting or standing, and some were examining the basket, a

nice little square basket for a human cargo, bearing on its side in gold letters on a mahogany plate the words:

Suddenly the people began to stand back, for the gas was beginning to enter into the balloon through a long

tube of yellow cloth, which lay on the soil, swelling and undulating like an enormous worm. But another

thought, another picture occurs to every mind. It is thus that nature itself nourishes beings until their birth.

The creature that will rise soon begins to move, and the attendants of Captain Jovis, as Le Horla grew larger,

spread and put in place the net which covers it, so that the pressure will be regular and equally distributed at

The operation is very delicate and very important, for the resistance of the cotton cloth of which the balloon

is made is figured not in proportion to the contact surface of this cloth with the net, but in proportion to the

Le Horla, moreover, has been designed by M. Mallet, constructed under his own eyes and made by himself.

Everything had been made in the shops of M. Jovis by his own working staff and nothing was made outside.

We must add that everything was new in this balloon, from the varnish to the valve, those two essential parts

of a balloon. Both must render the cloth gasproof, as the sides of a ship are waterproof. The old varnishes,

made with a base of linseed oil, sometimes fermented and thus burned the cloth, which in a short time would

The valves were apt to close imperfectly after being opened and when the covering called "cataplasme" was

injured. The fall of M. L'Hoste in the open sea during the night proved the imperfection of the old system.

The two discoveries of Captain Jovis, the varnish principally, are of inestimable value in the art of

The crowd has begun to talk, and some men, who appear to be specialists, affirm with authority that we shall

come down before reaching the fortifications. Several other things have been criticized in this novel type of

balloon with which we are about to experiment with so much pleasure and success.

It is growing slowly but surely. Some small holes and scratches made in transit have been discovered, and we

cover them and plug them with a little piece of paper applied on the cloth while wet. This method of repairing

While Captain Jovis and his assistants are busy with the last details, the travellers go to dine in the canteen of

When we come out again the balloon is swaying, enormous and transparent, a prodigious golden fruit, a

fantastic pear which is still ripening, covered by the last rays of the setting sun. Now the basket is attached,

the barometers are brought, the siren, which we will blow to our hearts' content, is also brought, also the two

trumpets, the eatables, the overcoats and raincoats, all the small articles that can go with the men in that

As the wind pushes the balloon against the gasometers, it is necessary to steady it now and then, to avoid an

Lieutenant Mallet jumps aboard, climbing first on the aerial net between the basket and the balloon, from

which he will watch during the night the movements of Le Horla across the skies, as the officer on watch,

M. Etierine Beer gets in after him, then comes M. Paul Bessand, then M. Patrice Eyries and I get in last.

But the basket is too heavy for the balloon, considering the long trip to be taken, and M. Eyries has to get out,

M. Joliet, standing erect on the edge of the basket, begs the ladies, in very gallant terms, to stand aside a little,

"Let it loose," and, cutting with one stroke of his knife the ropes that hold the balloon to the ground, he gives

In one second we fly skyward. Nothing can be heard; we float, we rise, we fly, we glide. Our friends shout

with glee and applaud, but we hardly hear them, we hardly see them. We are already so far, so high! What?

Are we really leaving these people down there? Is it possible? Paris spreads out beneath us, a dark bluish

patch, cut by its streets, from which rise, here and there, domes, towers, steeples, then around it the plain, the

country, traversed by long roads, thin and white, amidst green fields of a tender or dark green, and woods

The Seine appears like a coiled snake, asleep, of which we see neither head nor tail; it crosses Paris, and the

entire field resembles an immense basin of prairies and forests dotted here and there by mountains, hardly

The sun, which we could no longer see down below, now reappears as though it were about to rise again, and

our balloon seems to be lighted; it must appear like a star to the people who are looking up. M. Mallet every

few seconds throws a cigarette paper intospace and says quietly: "We are rising, always rising," while

Captain Jovis, radiant with joy, rubs his hands together and repeats: "Eh? this varnish? Isn't it good?"

In fact, we can see whether we are rising or sinking only by throwing a cigarette paper out of the basket now

and then. If this paper appears to fall down like a stone, it means that the balloon is rising; if it appears to

The two barometers mark about five hundred meters, and we gaze with enthusiastic admiration at the earth

we are leaving and to which we are not attached in any way; it looks like a colored map, an immense plan of

the country. All its noises, however, rise to our ears very distinctly, easily recognizable. We hear the sound of

the wheels rolling in the streets, the snap of a whip, the cries of drivers, the rolling and whistling of trains and

the laughter of small boys running after one another. Every time we pass over a village the noise of children's

voices is heard above the rest and with the greatest distinctness. Some men are calling us; the locomotives

whistle; we answer with the siren, which emits plaintive, fearfully shrill wails like the voice of a weird being

We perceive lights here and there, some isolated fire in the farms, and lines of gas in the towns. We are going

toward the northwest, after roaming for some time over the little lake of Enghien. Now we see a river; it is the

Oise, and we begin to argue about the exact spot we are passing. Is that town Creil or Pontoisethe one with

so many lights? But if we were over Pontoise we could see the junction of the Seine and the Oise; and that

enormous fire to the left, isn't it the blast furnaces of Montataire? So then we are above Creil. The view is

superb; it is dark on the earth, but we are still in the light, and it is now past ten o'clock. Now we begin to

hear slight country noises, the double cry of the quail in particular, then the mewing of cats and the barking of

dogs. Surely the dogs have scented the balloon; they have seen it and have given the alarm. We can hear them

barking all over the plain and making the identical noise they make when baying at the moon. The cows also

seem to wake up in the barns, for we can hear them lowing; all the beasts are scared and moved before the

The delicious odors of the soil rise toward us, the smell of hay, of flowers, of the moist, verdant earth,

perfuming the aira light air, in fact, so light, so sweet, so delightful that I realize I never was so fortunate as

to breathe before. A profound sense of wellbeing, unknown to me heretofore, pervades me, a wellbeing of

body and spirit, composed of supineness, of infinite rest, of forgetfulness, of indifference to everything and of

this novel sensation of traversing space without any of the sensations that make motion unbearable, without

At times we rise and then descend. Every few minutes Lieutenant Mallet, suspended in his cobweb of netting,

says to Captain Jovis : "We are descending; throw down half a handful." And the captain, who is talking and

laughing with us, with a bag of ballast between his legs, takes a handful of sand out of the bag and throws it

Nothing is more amusing, more delicate, more interesting than the manoeuvring of a balloon. It is an

enormous toy, free and docile, which obeys with surprising sensitiveness, but it is also, and before all, the

slave of the wind, which we cannot control. A pinch of sand, half a sheet of paper, one or two drops of water,

the bones of a chicken which we had just eaten, thrown overboard, makes it go up quickly.

A breath of cool, damp air rising from the river or the wood we are traversing makes the balloon descend two

hundred metres. It does not vary when passing over fields of ripe grain, and it rises when it passes over

The earth sleeps now, or, rather, men sleep on the earth, for the beasts awakened by the sight of our balloon

announce our approach everywhere. Now and then the rolling of a train or the whistling of a locomotive is

plainly distinguishable. We sound our siren as we pass over inhabited places; and the peasants, terrified in

their beds, must surely tremble and ask themselves if the Angel Gabriel is not passing by.

A strong and continuous odor of gas can be plainly observed. We must have encountered a current of warm

air, and the balloon expands, losing its invisible blood by the escapevalve, which is called the appendix, and

We are rising. The earth no longer gives back the echo of our trumpets; we have risen almost two thousand

feet. It is not light enough for us to consult the instruments; we only know that the rice paper falls from us

like dead butterflies, that we are rising, always rising. We can no longer see the earth; a light mist separates

A silvery light appears before us and makes the sky turn pale, and suddenly, as if it were rising from

unknown depths behind the horizon below us rises the moon on the edge of a cloud. It seems to be coming

from below, while we are looking down upon it from a great height, leaning on the edge of our basket like an

audience on a balcony. Clear and round, it emerges from the clouds and slowly rises in the sky.

The earth no longer seems to exist, it is buried in milky vapors that resemble a sea. We are now alone in

space with the moon, which looks like another balloon travelling opposite us; and our balloon, which shines

in the air, appears like another, larger moon, a world wandering in the sky amid the stars, through infinity.

We no longer speak, think nor live; we float along through space in delicious inertia. The air which is bearing

us up has made of us all beings which resemble itself, silent, joyous, irresponsible beings, intoxicated by this

stupendous flight, peculiarly alert, although motionless. One is no longer conscious of one's flesh or one's

bones; one's heart seems to have ceased beating; we have become something indescribable, birds who do not

All memory has disappeared from our minds, all trouble from our thoughts; we have no more regrets, plans

nor hopes. We look, we feel, we wildly enjoy this fantastic journey; nothing in the sky but the moon and

ourselves! We are a wandering, travelling world, like our sisters, the planets; and this little world carries five

men who have left the earth and who have almost forgotten it. We can now see as plainly as in daylight; we

look at each other, surprised at this brightness, for we have nothing to look at but ourselves and a few silvery

clouds floating below us. The barometers mark twelve hundred metres, then thirteen, fourteen, fifteen

Captain Jovis claims that the moon has often made balloons act thus, and that the upward journey will

We are now at two thousand metres; we go up to two thousand three hundred and fifty; then the balloon

stops: We blow the siren and are surprised that no one answers us from the stars.

We are now going down rapidly. M. Mallet keeps crying: "Throw out more ballast! throw out more ballast!"

And the sand and stones that we throw over come back into our faces, as if they were going up, thrown from

Here is the earth! Where are we? It is now past midnight, and we are crossing a broad, dry, wellcultivated

To the right is a large city and farther away to the left is another. But suddenly from the earth appears a bright

fairy light; it disappears, reappears and once more disappears. Jovis, intoxicated by space, exclaims: "Look,

look at this phenomenon of the moon in the water. One can see nothing more beautiful at night!"

Nothing indeed can give one an idea of the wonderful brightness of these spots of light which are not fire,

which do not look like reflections, which appear quickly here or there and immediately go out again. These

shining lights appear on the winding rivers at every turn, but one hardly has time to see them as the balloon

We are now quite near the earth, and Beer exclaims: "Look at that! What is that running over there in the

fields? Isn't it a dog?" Indeed, something is running along the ground with great speed, and this something

seems to jump over ditches, roads, trees with such ease that we could not understand what it might be. The

I distinctly hear a great noise of foundries in the distance. And, according to the polar star, which we have

been observing all night, 'and which I have so often watched and consulted from the bridge of my little yacht

Our siren and our two horns are continually calling. A few cries from some truck driver or belated reveler

answer us. We bellow: "Where are we?" But the balloon is going so rapidly that the bewildered man has not

even time to answer us. The growing shadow of Le Horla, as large as a child's ball, is fleeing before us over

the fields, roads and woods. It goes along steadily, preceding us by about a quarter of a mile; and now I am

leaning out of the basket, listening to the roaring of the wind in the trees and across the harvest fields. I say to

He answers: "No, those are probably waterfalls." I insist, sure of my ear that knows the sound of the wind,

from hearing it so often whistle through the rigging. Then Jovis nudges me; he fears to frighten his happy,

At last a man manages to understand us; he answers: "Nord!" We get the same reply from another.

Suddenly the lights of a town, which seems to be of considerable size, appear before us. Perhaps it is Lille.

As we approach it, such a wonderful flow of fire appears below us that I think myself transported into some

It seems that it is a brick factory. Here are others, two, three. The fusing material bubbles, sparkles, throws

out blue, red, yellow, green sparks, reflections from giant diamonds, rubies, emeralds, turquoises, sapphires,

topazes. And near by are great foundries roaring like apocalyptic lions; high chimneys belch forth their

clouds of smoke and flame, and we can hear the noise of metal striking against metal.

We were not mistaken. We are already out of sight of the town, and we see Roubaix to the right, then some

wellcultivated, rectangular fields, of different colors according to the crops, some yellow, some gray or

brown. But the clouds are gathering behind us, hiding the moon, whereas toward the east the sky is growing

lighter, becoming a clear blue tinged with red. It is dawn. It grows rapidly, now showing us all the little

details of the earth, the trains, the brooks, the cows, the goats. And all this passes beneath us with surprising

speed. One hardly has time to notice that other fields, other meadows, other houses have already disappeared.

Cocks are crowing, but the voice of ducks drowns everything. One might think the world to be peopled,

The early rising peasants are waving their arms and crying to us: "Let yourselves drop!" But we go along

steadily, neither rising nor falling, leaning over the edge of the basket and watching the world fleeing under

Jovis sights another city far off in the distance. It approaches; everywhere are old church spires. They are

We are already very near it, and we see that it is surrounded by water and crossed in every direction by

canals. One might think it a Venice of the north. Just as we are passing so near to a church tower that our long

guyrope almost touches it, the chimes begin to ring three o'clock. The sweet, clear sounds rise to us from

this frail roof which we have almost touched in our wandering course. It is a charming greeting, a friendly

welcome from Holland. We answer with our siren, whose raucous voice echoes throughout the streets.

It was Bruges. But eve have hardly lost sight of it when my neighbor, Paul Bessand, asks me: "Don't you see

And, indeed, far ahead of us stretches a bright highway, in the light of the dawning day. Yes, it looks like a

"Get ready for the descent," cried the captain. He makes M. Mallet leave his net and return to the basket; then

we pack the barometers and everything that could be injured by possible shocks. M. Bessand exclaims: "Look

Fogs had hidden it from us until then. The sea was everywhere, to the left and opposite us, while to our right

the Scheldt, which had joined the Moselle, extended as far as the sea, its mouths vaster than a lake.

It was necessary to descend within a minute or two. The rope to the escapevalve, which had been religiously

enclosed in a little white bag and placed in sight of all so that no one would touch it, is unrolled, and M.

Behind us the thunder was rumbling and not a single bird followed our mad flight.

We were passing over a canal. The basket trembled and tipped over slightly. The guyrope touched the tall

trees on both banks. But our speed is so great that the long rope now trailing does not seem to slow down, and

we pass with frightful rapidity over a large farm, from which the bewildered chickens, pigeons and ducks fly

Just onehalf bag of ballast is left. Jovis throws it overboard, and Le Horla flies lightly across the roof.

M. Mallet reaches for the rope and hangs to it, and we drop like an arrow. With a slash of a knife the cord

which retains the anchor is cut, and we drag this grapple behind us, through a field of beets. Here are the

"Look out! Take a good hold! Raise yourselves by your wrists. We are going to touch ground."

The basket does indeed strike the earth. Then it flies up again. Once more it falls and bounds upward again,

and at last it settles on the ground, while the balloon struggles madly, like a wounded beast.

Peasants run toward us, but they do not dare approach. They were a long time before they decided to come

and deliver us, for one cannot set foot on the ground until the bag is almost completely deflated.

Then, almost at the same time as the bewildered men, some of whom showed their astonishment by jumping,

with the wild gestures of savages, all the cows that were grazing along the coast came toward us, surrounding

our balloon with a strange and comical circle of horns, big eyes and blowing nostrils.

With the help of the accommodating and hospitable Belgian peasants, we were able in a short time to pack up

all our material and carry it to the station at Heyst, where at twenty minutes past eight we took the train for

The descent occurred at threefifteen in the morning, preceding by only a few seconds the torrent of rain and

Thanks to Captain Jovis, of whom I had heard much from my colleague, Paul Ginistyfor both of them had

fallen together and voluntarily into the sea opposite Mentonethanks to this brave man, we were able to see,

in a single night, from far up in the sky, the setting of the sun, the rising of the moon and the dawn of day and

The two friends were getting near the end of their dinner. Through the cafe windows they could see the

Boulevard, crowded with people. They could feel the gentle breezes which are wafted over Paris on warm

summer evenings and make you feel like going out somewhere, you care not where, under the trees, and

"Ah! I am growing old. It's sad. Formerly, on evenings like this, I felt full of life. Now, I only feel regrets.

"Well, my boy, I have grown old without noticing it in the least. I have always been merry, healthy, vigorous

and all the rest. As one sees oneself in the mirror every day, one does not realize the work of age, for it is

slow, regular, and it modifies the countenance so gently that the changes are unnoticeable. It is for this reason

alone that we do not die of sorrow after two or three years of excitement. For we cannot understand the

alterations which time produces. In order to appreciate them one would have to remain six months without

"And the women, my friend, how I pity the poor beings! All their joy, all their power, all their life, lies in

"As I said, I aged without noticing it; I thought myself practically a youth, when I was almost fifty years old.

"The revelation of my decline came to me in a simple and terrible manner, which overwhelmed me for almost

"I met her at the seashore, at Etretat, about twelve years ago, shortly after the war. There is nothing prettier

than this beach during the morning bathing hour. It is small, shaped like a horseshoe, framed by high while

cliffs, which are pierced by strange holes called the 'Portes,' one stretching out into the ocean like the leg of a

giant, the other short and dumpy. The women gather on the narrow strip of sand in this frame of high rocks,

which they make into a gorgeous garden of beautiful gowns. The sun beats down on the shores, on the

multicolored parasols, on the bluegreen sea; and all is gay, delightful, smiling. You sit down at the edge of

the water and you watch the bathers. The women come down, wrapped in long bath robes, which they throw

off daintily when they reach the foamy edge of the rippling waves; and they run into the water with a rapid

little step, stopping from time to time for a delightful little thrill from the cold water, a short gasp.

"Very few stand the test of the bath. It is there that they can be judged, from the ankle to the throat.

Especially on leaving the water are the defects revealed, although water is a powerful aid to flabby skin.

"The first time that I saw this young woman in the water, I was delighted, entranced. She stood the test well.

There are faces whose charms appeal to you at first glance and delight you instantly. You seem to have found

"I was introduced, and was soon smitten worse than I had ever been before. My heart longed for her. It is a

terrible yet delightful thing thus to be dominated by a young woman. It is almost torture, and yet infinite

delight. Her look, her smile, her hair fluttering in the wind, the little lines of her face, the slightest movement

of her features, delighted me, upset me, entranced me. She had captured me, body and soul, by her gestures,

her manners, even by her clothes, which seemed to take on a peculiar charm as soon as she wore them. I grew

tender at the sight of her veil on some piece of furniture, her gloves thrown on a chair. Her gowns seemed to

"She was married, but her husband came only on Saturday, and left on Monday. I didn't cencern myself about

him, anyhow. I wasn't jealous of him, I don't know why; never did a creature seem to me to be of less

"But she! how I loved her! How beautiful, graceful and young she was! She was youth, elegance, freshness

itself! Never before had I felt so strongly what a pretty, distinguished, delicate, charming, graceful being

woman is. Never before had I appreciated the seductive beauty to be found in the curve of a cheek, the

movement of a lip, the pinkness of an ear, the shape of that foolish organ called the nose.

"This lasted three months; then I left for America, overwhelmed with sadness. But her memory remained in

me, persistent, triumphant. From far away I was as much hers as I had been when she was near me. Years

passed by, and I did not forget her. The charming image of her person was ever before my eyes and in my

heart. And my love remained true to her, a quiet tenderness now, something like the beloved memory of the

"Twelve years are not much in a lifetime! One does not feel them slip by. The years follow each other gently

and quickly, slowly yet rapidly, each one is long and yet so soon over! They add up so rapidly, they leave so

few traces behind them, they disappear so completely, that, when one turns round to look back over bygone

years, one sees nothing and yet one does not understand how one happens to be so old. It seemed to me,

really, that hardly a few months separated me from that charming season on the sands of Etretat.

"Just as the train was leaving, a big, fat lady, escorted by four little girls, got into my car. I hardly looked at

this mother hen, very big, very round, with a face as full as the moon framed in an enormous, beribboned hat.

"She was puffing, out of breath from having been forced to walk quickly. The children began to chatter. I

"Then she began to laugh, the pleased laugh of a good woman; and yet it was sad.

"I hesitated. It seemed to me that I had seen that face somewhere; but where? when? I answered:

"Never had I received such a shock. In a second it seemed to me as though it were all over with me! I felt that

a veil had been torn from my eyes and that I was going to make a horrible and heartrending discovery.

"So that was she! That big, fat, common woman, she! She had become the mother of these four girls since I

had last her. And these little beings surprised me as much as their mother. They were part of her; they were

big girls, and already had a place in life. Whereas she no longer counted, she, that marvel of dainty and

charming gracefulness. It seemed to me that I had seen her but yesterday, and this is how I found her again!

Was it possible? A poignant grief seized my heart; and also a revolt against nature herself, an unreasoning

"I looked at her, bewildered. Then I took her hand in mine, and tears came to my eyes. I wept for her lost

"'I am greatly changed, am I not? What can you expecteverything has its time! You see, I have become a

mother, nothing but a good mother. Farewell to the rest, that is over. Oh! I never expected you to recognize

me if we met. You, too, have changed. It took me quite a while to be sure that I was not mistaken. Your hair

is all white. Just think! Twelve years ago! Twelve years! My oldest girl is already ten.'

"I looked at the child. And I recognized in her something of her mother's old charm, but something as yet

unformed, something which promised for the future. And life seemed to me as swift as a passing train.

"We had reached. MaisonsLaffitte. I kissed my old friend's hand. I had found nothing utter but the most

"At night, alone, at home, I stood in front of the mirror for a long time, a very long time. And I finally

remembered what I had been, finally saw in my mind's eye my brown mustache, my black hair and the

This is what the old Marquis d'Arville told us after St. Hubert's dinner at the house of the Baron des Ravels.

We had killed a stag that day. The marquis was the only one of the guests who had not taken part in this

During that long repast we had talked about hardly anything but the slaughter of animals. The ladies

themselves were interested in bloody and exaggerated tales, and the orators imitated the attacks and the

combats of men against beasts, raised their arms, romanced in a thundering voice.

M. d Arville talked well, in a certain flowery, highsounding, but effective style. He must have told this story

frequently, for he told it fluently, never hesitating for words, choosing them with skill to make his description

Gentlemen, I have never hunted, neither did my father, nor my grandfather, nor my greatgrandfather. This

last was the son of a man who hunted more than all of you put together. He died in 1764. I will tell you the

His name was Jean. He was married, father of that child who became my greatgrandfather, and he lived

with his younger brother, Francois d'Arville, in our castle in Lorraine, in the midst of the forest.

They both hunted from one end of the year to the other, without stopping and seemingly without fatigue.

They loved only hunting, understood nothing else, talked only of that, lived only for that.

They had at heart that one passion, which was terrible and inexorable. It consumed them, had completely

They had given orders that they should not be interrupted in the chase for any reason whatever. My

greatgrandfather was born while his father was following a fox, and Jean d'Arville did not stop the chase,

but exclaimed: "The deuce! The rascal might have waited till after the view halloo!"

His brother Franqois was still more infatuated. On rising he went to see the dogs, then the horses, then he

In the countryside they were called M. le Marquis and M. le Cadet, the nobles then not being at all like the

chance nobility of our time, which wishes to establish an hereditary hierarchy in titles; for the son of a

marquis is no more a count, nor the son of a viscount a baron, than a son of a general is a colonel by birth.

My ancestors were unusually tall, bony, hairy, violent and vigorous. The younger, still taller than the older,

had a voice so strong that, according to a legend of which he was proud, all the leaves of the forest shook

When they were both mounted to set out hunting, it must have been a superb sight to see those two giants

Now, toward the midwinter of that year, 1764, the frosts were excessive, and the wolves became ferocious.

They even attacked belated peasants, roamed at night outside the houses, howled from sunset to sunrise, and

And soon a rumor began to circulate. People talked of a colossal wolf with gray fur, almost white, who had

eaten two children, gnawed off a woman's arm, strangled all the watch dogs in the district, and even come

without fear into the farmyards. The people in the houses affirmed that they had felt his breath, and that it

made the flame of the lights flicker. And soon a panic ran through all the province. No one dared go out any

The brothers d'Arville determined to find and kill him, and several times they brought together all the

They beat the forests and searched the coverts in vain; they never met him. They killed wolves, but not that

one. And every night after a battue the beast, as if to avenge himself, attacked some traveller or killed some

Finally, one night he stole into the pigpen of the Chateau d'Arville and ate the two fattest pigs.

The brothers were roused to anger, considering this attack as a direct insult and a defiance. They took their

strong bloodhounds, used to pursue dangerous animals, and they set off to hunt, their hearts filled with rage.

From dawn until the hour when the empurpled sun descended behind the great naked trees, they beat the

At last, furious and disgusted, both were returning, walking their horses along a lane bordered with hedges,

and they marvelled that their skill as huntsmen should be baffled by this wolf, and they were suddenly seized

"Perhaps we should have a bullet blessed by our cousin, the bishop, or pray some priest to pronounce the

He had hardly finished speaking when his horse reared; that of Franqois began to kick. A large thicket

covered with dead leaves opened before them, and a mammoth beast, entirely gray, jumped up and ran off

Both uttered a kind of grunt of joy, and bending over the necks of their heavy horses, they threw them

forward with an impulse from all their body, hurling them on at such a pace, urging them, hurrying them

away, exciting them so with voice and with gesture and with spur that the experienced riders seemed to be

carrying the heavy beasts between 4 their thighs and to bear them off as if they were flying.

Thus they went, plunging through the thickets, dashing across the beds of streams, climbing the hillsides,

descending the gorges, and blowing the horn as loud as they could to attract their people and the dogs.

And now, suddenly, in that mad race, my ancestor struck his forehead against an enormous branch which

split his skull; and he fell dead on the ground, while his frightened horse took himself off, disappearing in the

The younger d'Arville stopped quick, leaped to the earth, seized his brother in his arms, and saw that the

Then he sat down beside the body, rested the head, disfigured and red, on his knees, and waited, regarding the

immobile face of his elder brother. Little by little a fear possessed him, a strange fear which he had never felt

before, the fear of the dark, the fear of loneliness, the fear of the deserted wood, and the fear also of the weird

The gloom thickened; the acute cold made the trees crack. Francois got up, shivering, unable to remain there

longer, feeling himself growing faint. Nothing was to be heard, neither the voice of the dogs nor the sound of

the hornsall was silent along the invisible horizon; and this mournful silence of the frozen night had

He seized in his immense hands the great body of Jean, straightened it, and laid it across the saddle to carry it

back to the chateau; then he went on his way softly, his mind troubled as if he were in a stupor, pursued by

And all at once, in the growing darkness a great shape crossed his path. It was the beast. A shock of terror

shook the hunter; something cold, like a drop of water, seemed to glide down his back, and, like a monk

haunted of the devil, he made a great sign of the cross, dismayed at this abrupt return of the horrible prowler.

But his eyes fell again on the inert body before him, and passing abruptly from fear to anger, he shook with

He followed it through the copses, the ravines, and the tall trees, traversing woods which he no longer

recognized, his eyes fixed on the white speck which fled before him through the night.

His horse also seemed animated by a force and strength hitherto unknown. It galloped straight ahead with

outstretched neck, striking against trees, and rocks, the head and the feet of the dead man thrown across the

saddle. The limbs tore out his hair; the brow, beating the huge trunks, spattered them with blood; the spurs

tore their ragged coats of bark. Suddenly the beast and the horseman issued from the forest and rushed into a

valley, just as the moon appeared above the mountains. The valley here was stony, inclosed by enormous

Francois then uttered a yell of joy which the echoes repeated like a peal of thunder, and he leaped from his

The beast, with bristling hair, the back arched, awaited him, its eyes gleaming like two stars. But, before

beginning battle, the strong hunter, seizing his brother, seated him on a rock, and, placing stones under his

head, which was no more than a mass of blood, he shouted in the ears as if he was talking to a deaf man:

Then he attacked the monster. He felt himself strong enough to overturn a mountain, to bruise stones in his

hands. The beast tried to bite him, aiming for his stomach; but he had seized the fierce animal by the neck,

without even using his weapon, and he strangled it gently, listening to the cessation of breathing in its throat

and the beatings of its heart. He laughed, wild with joy, pressing closer and closer his formidable embrace,

crying in a delirium of joy, "Look, Jean, look!" All resistance ceased; the body of the wolf became limp. He

Franqois took him up in his arms and carried him to the feet of the elder brother, where he laid him,

Then he replaced on the saddle the two bodies, one upon the other, and rode away.

He returned to the chateau, laughing and crying, like Gargantua at the birth of Pantagruel, uttering shouts of

triumph, and boisterous with joy as he related the death of the beast, and grieving and tearing his beard in

And often, later, when he talked again of that day, he would say, with tears in his eyes: "If only poor Jean

could have seen me strangle the beast, he would have died content, that I am sure!"

The widow of my ancestor inspired her orphan son with that horror of the chase which has transmitted itself

Resembling in appearance all the wooden hostelries of the High Alps situated at the foot of glaciers in the

barren rocky gorges that intersect the summits of the mountains, the Inn of Schwarenbach serves as a resting

It remains open for six months in the year and is inhabited by the family of Jean Hauser; then, as soon as the

snow begins to fall and to fill the valley so as to make the road down to Loeche impassable, the father and his

three sons go away and leave the house in charge of the old guide, Gaspard Hari, with the young guide,

The two men and the dog remain till the spring in their snowy prison, with nothing before their eyes except

the immense white slopes of the Balmhorn, surrounded by light, glistening summits, and are shut in, blocked

up and buried by the snow which rises around them and which envelops, binds and crushes the little house,

It was the day on which the Hauser family were going to return to Loeche, as winter was approaching, and

the descent was becoming dangerous. Three mules started first, laden with baggage and led by the three sons.

Then the mother, Jeanne Hauser, and her daughter Louise mounted a fourth mule and set off in their turn and

the father followed them, accompanied by the two men in charge, who were to escort the family as far as the

brow of the descent. First of all they passed round the small lake, which was now frozen over, at the bottom

of the mass of rocks which stretched in front of the inn, and then they followed the valley, which was

A ray of sunlight fell into that little white, glistening, frozen desert and illuminated it with a cold and dazzling

flame. No living thing appeared among this ocean of mountains. There was no motion in this immeasurable

By degrees the young guide, Ulrich Kunsi, a tall, longlegged Swiss, left old man Hauser and old Gaspard

behind, in order to catch up the mule which bore the two women. The younger one looked at him as he

approached and appeared to be calling him with her sad eyes. She was a young, fairhaired little peasant girl,

whose milkwhite cheeks and pale hair looked as if they had lost their color by their long abode amid the ice.

When he had got up to the animal she was riding he put his hand on the crupper and relaxed his speed.

Mother Hauser began to talk to him, enumerating with the minutest details all that he would have to attend to

during the winter. It was the first time that he was going to stay up there, while old Hari had already spent

Ulrich Kunsi listened, without appearing to understand and looked incessantly at the girl. From time to time

he replied: "Yes, Madame Hauser," but his thoughts seemed far away and his calm features remained

They reached Lake Daube, whose broad, frozen surface extended to the end of the valley. On the right one

saw the black, pointed, rocky summits of the Daubenhorn beside the enormous moraines of the Lommern

glacier, above which rose the Wildstrubel. As they approached the Gemmi pass, where the descent of Loeche

begins, they suddenly beheld the immense horizon of the Alps of the Valais, from which the broad, deep

In the distance there was a group of white, unequal, flat, or pointed mountain summits, which glistened in the

sun; the Mischabel with its two peaks, the huge group of the Weisshorn, the heavy Brunegghorn, the lofty

and formidable pyramid of Mount Cervin, that slayer of men, and the Dent Blanche, that monstrous

Then beneath them, in a tremendous hole, at the bottom of a terrific abyss, they perceived Loeche, where

houses looked as grains of sand which had been thrown into that enormous crevice that is ended and closed

The mule stopped at the edge of the path, which winds and turns continually, doubling backward, then,

fantastically and strangely, along the side of the mountain as far as the almost invisible little village at its feet.

The women jumped into the snow and the two old men joined them. "Well," father Hauser said, "goodby,

and keep up your spirits till next year, my friends," and old Hari replied: "Till next year."

They embraced each other and then Madame Hauser in her turn offered her cheek, and the girl did the same.

When Ulrich Kunsi's turn came, he whispered in Louise's ear, "Do not forget those up yonder," and she

replied, "No," in such a low voice that he guessed what she had said without hearing it. "Well, adieu," Jean

Hauser repeated, "and don't fall ill." And going before the two women, he commenced the descent, and soon

all three disappeared at the first turn in the road, while the two men returned to the inn at Schwarenbach.

They walked slowly, side by side, without speaking. It was over, and they would be alone together for four or

five months. Then Gaspard Hari began to relate his life last winter. He had remained with Michael Canol,

who was too old now to stand it, for an accident might happen during that long solitude. They had not been

dull, however; the only thing was to make up one's mind to it from the first, and in the end one would find

Ulrich Kunsi listened to him with his eyes on the ground, for in his thoughts he was following those who

were descending to the village. They soon came in sight of the inn, which was, however, scarcely visible, so

small did it look, a black speck at the foot of that enormous billow of snow, and when they opened the door

"Come, my boy," old Gaspard said, "we have no women now, so we must get our own dinner ready. Go and

peel the potatoes." And they both sat down on wooden stools and began to prepare the soup.

The next morning seemed very long to Kunsi. Old Hari smoked and spat on the hearth, while the young man

In the afternoon he went out, and going over yesterday's ground again, he looked for the traces of the mule

that had carried the two women. Then when he had reached the Gemmi Pass, he laid himself down on his

The village, in its rocky pit, was not yet buried under the snow, from which it was sheltered by the pine

woods which protected it on all sides. Its low houses looked like paving stones in a large meadow from

above. Hauser's little daughter was there now in one of those graycolored houses. In which? Ulrich Kunsi

was too far away to be able to make them out separately. How he would have liked to go down while he was

But the sun had disappeared behind the lofty crest of the Wildstrubel and the young man returned to the

chalet. Daddy Hari was smoking, and when he saw his mate come in he proposed a game of cards to him, and

they sat down opposite each other, on either side of the table. They played for a long time a simple game

The following days were like the first, bright and cold, without any fresh snow. Old Gaspard spent his

afternoons in watching the eagles and other rare birds which ventured on those frozen heights, while Ulrich

returned regularly to the Gemmi Pass to look at the village. Then they played cards, dice or dominoes and lost

One morning Hari, who was up first, called his companion. A moving, deep and light cloud of white spray

was falling on them noiselessly and was by degrees burying them under a thick, heavy coverlet of foam. That

lasted four days and four nights. It was necessary to free the door and the windows, to dig out a passage and

to cut steps to get over this frozen powder, which a twelve hours' frost had made as hard as the granite of the

They lived like prisoners and did not venture outside their abode. They had divided their duties, which they

performed regularly. Ulrich Kunsi undertook the scouring, washing and everything that belonged to

cleanliness. He also chopped up the wood while Gaspard Hari did the cooking and attended to the fire. Their

regular and monotonous work was interrupted by long games at cards or dice, and they never quarrelled, but

were always calm and placid. They were never seen impatient or ill humored, nor did they ever use hard

words, for they had laid in a stock of patience for their wintering on the top of the mountain.

Sometimes old Gaspard took his rifle and went after chamois, and occasionally he killed one. Then there was

a feast in the inn at Schwarenbach and they revelled in fresh meat. One morning he went out as usual. The

thermometer outside marked eighteen degrees of frost, and as the sun had not yet risen, the hunter hoped to

surprise the animals at the approaches to the Wildstrubel, and Ulrich, being alone, remained in bed until ten

o'clock. He was of a sleepy nature, but he would not have dared to give way like that to his inclination in the

presence of the old guide, who was ever an early riser. He breakfasted leisurely with Sam, who also spent his

days and nights in sleeping in front of the fire; then he felt lowspirited and even frightened at the solitude,

and wasseized by a longing for his daily game of cards, as one is by the craving of a confirmed habit, and so

The snow had levelled the whole deep valley, filled up the crevasses, obliterated all signs of the two lakes and

covered the rocks, so that between the high summits there was nothing but an immense, white, regular,

dazzling and frozen surface. For three weeks Ulrich had not been to the edge of the precipice from which he

had looked down on the village, and he wanted to go there before climbing the slopes which led to

Wildstrubel. Loeche was now also covered by the snow and the houses could scarcely be distinguished,

Then, turning to the right, he reached the Loemmern glacier. He went along with a mountaineer's long strides,

striking the snow, which was as hard as a rock, with his ironpointed stick, and with his piercing eyes he

looked for the little black, moving speck in the distance, on that enormous, white expanse.

When he reached the end of the glacier he stopped and asked himself whether the old man had taken that

road, and then he began to walk along the moraines with rapid and uneasy steps. The day was declining, the

snow was assuming a rosy tint, and a dry, frozen wind blew in rough gusts over its crystal surface. Ulrich

uttered a long, shrill, vibrating call. His voice sped through the deathlike silence in which the mountains were

sleeping; it reached the distance, across profound and motionless waves of glacial foam, like the cry of a bird

He began to walk again. The sun had sunk yonder behind the mountain tops, which were still purple with the

reflection from the sky, but the depths of the valley were becoming gray, and suddenly the young man felt

frightened. It seemed to him as if the silence, the cold, the solitude, the winter death of these mountains were

taking possession of him, were going to stop and to freeze his blood, to make his limbs grow stiff and to turn

him into a motionless and frozen object, and he set off running, fleeing toward his dwelling. The old man, he

thought, would have returned during his absence. He had taken another road; he would, no doubt, be sitting

before the fire, with a dead chamois at his feet. He soon came in sight of the inn, but no smoke rose from it.

Ulrich walked faster and opened the door. Sam ran up to him to greet him, but Gaspard Hari had not returned.

Kunsi, in his alarm, turned round suddenly, as if he had expected to find his comrade hidden in a corner.

Then he relighted the fire and made the soup, hoping every moment to see the old man come in. From time to

time he went out to see if he were not coming. It was quite night now, that wan, livid night of the mountains,

lighted by a thin, yellow crescent moon, just disappearing behind the mountain tops.

Then the young man went in and sat down to warm his hands and feet, while he pictured to himself every

possible accident. Gaspard might have broken a leg, have fallen into a crevasse, taken a false step and

dislocated his ankle. And, perhaps, he was lying on the snow, overcome and stiff with the cold, in agony of

mind, lost and, perhaps, shouting for help, calling with all his might in the silence of the night.. But where?

The mountain was so vast, so rugged, so dangerous in places, especially at that time of the year, that it would

have required ten or twenty guides to walk for a week in all directions to find a man in that immense space.

Ulrich Kunsi, however, made up his mind to set out with Sam if Gaspard did not return by one in the

He put provisions for two days into a bag, took his steel climbing iron, tied a long, thin, strong rope round his

waist, and looked to see that his ironshod stick and his axe, which served to cut steps in the ice, were in order.

Then he waited. The fire was burning on the hearth, the great dog was snoring in front of it, and the clock was

ticking, as regularly as a heart beating, in its resounding wooden case. He waited, with his ears on the alert

for distant sounds, and he shivered when the wind blew against the roof and the walls. It struck twelve and he

trembled: Then, frightened and shivering, he put some water on the fire, so that he might have some hot

coffee before starting, and when the clock struck one he got up, woke Sam, opened the door and went off in

the direction of the Wildstrubel. For five hours he mounted, scaling the rocks by means of his climbing irons,

cutting into the ice, advancing continually, and occasionally hauling up the dog, who remained below at the

foot of some slope that was too steep for him, by means of the rope. It was about six o'clock when he reached

one of the summits to which old Gaspard often came after chamois, and he waited till it should be daylight.

The sky was growing pale overhead, and a strange light, springing nobody could tell whence, suddenly

illuminated the immense ocean of pale mountain summits, which extended for a hundred leagues around him.

One might have said that this vague brightness arose from the snow itself and spread abroad in space. By

degrees the highest distant summits assumed a delicate, pink flesh color, and the red sun appeared behind the

Ulrich Kunsi set off again, walking like a hunter, bent over, looking for tracks, and saying to his dog: "Seek,

He was descending the mountain now, scanning the depths closely, and from time to time shouting, uttering

aloud, prolonged cry, which soon died away in that silent vastness. Then he put his ear to the ground to listen.

He thought he could distinguish a voice, and he began to run and shouted again, but he heard nothing more

and sat down, exhausted and in despair. Toward midday he breakfasted and gave Sam, who was as tired as

When evening came he was still walking, and he had walked more than thirty miles over the mountains. As

he was too far away to return home and too tired to drag himself along any further, he dug a hole in the snow

and crouched in it with his dog under a blanket which he had brought with him. And the man and the dog lay

side by side, trying to keep warm, but frozen to the marrow nevertheless. Ulrich scarcely slept, his mind

Day was breaking when he got up. His legs were as stiff as iron bars and his spirits so low that he was ready

to cry with anguish, while his heart was beating so that he almost fell over with agitation, when he thought he

Suddenly he imagined that he also was going to die of cold in the midst of this vast solitude, and the terror of

such a death roused his energies and gave him renewed vigor. He was descending toward the inn, falling

down and getting up again, and followed at a distance by Sam, who was limping on three legs, and they did

not reach Schwarenbach until four o'clock in the afternoon. The house was empty and the young man made a

fire, had something to eat and went to sleep, so worn out that he did not think of anything more.

He slept for a long time, for a very long time, an irresistible sleep. But suddenly a voice, a cry, a name,

"Ulrich!" aroused him from his profound torpor and made him sit up in bed. Had he been dreaming? Was it

one of those strange appeals which cross the dreams of disquieted minds? No, he heard it still, that

reverberating crywhich had entered his ears and remained in his fleshto the tips of his sinewy fingers.

Certainly somebody had cried out and called "Ulrich!" There was somebody there near the house, there could

be no doubt of that, and he opened the door and shouted, "Is it you, Gaspard?" with all the strength of his

lungs. But there was no reply, no murmur, no groan, nothing. It was quite dark and the snow looked wan.

The wind had risen, that icy wind that cracks the rocks and leaves nothing alive on those deserted heights,

and it came in sudden gusts, which were more parching and more deadly than the burning wind of the desert,

and again Ulrich shouted: "Gaspard! Gaspard! Gaspard." And then he waited again. Everything was silent on

Then he shook with terror and with a bound he was inside the inn, when he shut and bolted the door, and then

he fell into a chair trembling all over, for he felt certain that his comrade had called him at the moment he

He was sure of that, as sure as one is of being alive or of eating a piece of bread. Old Gaspard Hari had been

dying for two days and three nights somewhere, in some hole, in one of those deep, untrodden ravines whose

whiteness is more sinister than subterranean darkness. He had been dying for two days and three nights and

be had just then died, thinking of his comrade. His soul, almost before it was released, had taken its flight to

the inn where Ulrich was sleeping, and it had called him by that terrible and mysterious power which the

spirits of the dead have to haunt the living. That voiceless soul had cried to the wornout soul of the sleeper;

it had uttered its last farewell, or its reproach, or its curse on the man who had not searched carefully enough.

And Ulrich felt that it was there, quite close to him, behind the wall, behind the door which be had just

fastened. It was wandering about, like a night bird which lightly touches a lighted window with his wings,

and the terrified young man was ready to scream with horror. He wanted to run away, but did not dare to go

out; he did not dare, and he should never dare to do it in the future, for that phantom would remain there day

and night, round the inn, as long as the old man's body was not recovered and had not been deposited in the

When it was daylight Kunsi recovered some of his courage at the return of the bright sun. He prepared his

meal, gave his dog some food and then remained motionless on a chair, tortured at heart as he thought of the

old man lying on the snow, and then, as soon as night once more covered the mountains, new terrors assailed

him. He now walked up and down the dark kitchen, which was scarcely lighted by the flame of one candle,

and he walked from one end of it to the other with great strides, listening, listening whether the terrible cry of

the other night would again break the dreary silence outside. He felt himself alone, unhappy man, as no man

had ever been alone before! He was alone in this immense desert of Snow, alone five thousand feet above the

inhabited earth, above human habitation, above that stirring, noisy, palpitating life, alone under an icy sky! A

mad longing impelled him to run away, no matter where, to get down to Loeche by flinging himself over the

precipice; but he did not even dare to open the door, as he felt sure that the other, the dead man, would bar his

Toward midnight, tired with walking, worn out by grief and fear, he at last fell into a doze in his chair, for he

was afraid of his bed as one is of a haunted spot. But suddenly the strident cry of the other evening pierced

his ears, and it was so shrill that Ulrich stretched out his arms to repulse the ghost, and he fell backward with

Sam, who was awakened by the noise, began to howl as frightened dogs do howl, and he walked all about the

house trying to find out where the danger came from. When he got to the door, he sniffed beneath it, smelling

vigorously, with his coat bristling and his tail stiff, while he growled angrily. Kunsi, who was terrified,

jumped up, and, holding his chair by one leg, he cried: "Don't come in, don't come in, or I shall kill you." And

the dog, excited by this threat, barked angrily at that invisible enemy who defied his master's voice. By

degrees, however, he quieted down and came back and stretched himself in front of the fire, but he was

Ulrich, in turn, recovered his senses, but as he felt faint with terror, he went and got a bottle of brandy out of

the sideboard, and he drank off several glasses, one after anther, at a gulp. His ideas became vague, his

He ate scarcely anything the next day and limited himself to alcohol, and so he lived for several days, like a

drunken brute. As soon as he thought of Gaspard Hari, he began to drink again, and went on drinking until he

fell to the ground, overcome by intoxication. And there he remained lying on his face, dead drunk, his limbs

benumbed, and snoring loudly. But scarcely had he digested the maddening and burning liquor than the same

cry, "Ulrich!" woke him like a bullet piercing his brain, and he got up, still staggering, stretching out his

hands to save himself from falling, and calling to Sam to help him. And the dog, who appeared to be going

mad like his master, rushed to the door, scratched it with his claws and gnawed it with his long white teeth,

while the young man, with his head thrown back drank the brandy in draughts, as if it had been cold water, so

that it might by and by send his thoughts, his frantic terror, and his memory to sleep again.

In three weeks he had consumed all his stock of ardent spirits. But his continual drunkenness only lulled his

terror, which awoke more furiously than ever as soon as it was impossible for him to calm it. His fixed idea

then, which had been intensified by a month of drunkenness, and which was continually increasing in his

absolute solitude, penetrated him like a gimlet. He now walked about the house like a wild beast in its cage,

putting his ear to the door to listen if the other were there and defying him through the wall. Then, as soon as

he dozed, overcome by fatigue, he heard the voice which made him leap to his feet.

At last one night, as cowards do when driven to extremities, he sprang to the door and opened it, to see who

was calling him and to force him to keep quiet, but such a gust of cold wind blew into his face that it chilled

him to the bone, and he closed and bolted the door again immediately, without noticing that Sam had rushed

out. Then, as he was shivering with cold, he threw some wood on the fire and sat down in front of it to warm

himself, but suddenly he started, for somebody was scratching at the wall and crying. In desperation he called

Then all his remaining senses forsook him from sheer fright. He repeated: "Go away!" and turned round to try

to find some corner in which to hide, while the other person went round the house still crying and rubbing

against the wall. Ulrich went to the oak sideboard, which was full of plates and dishes and of provisions, and

lifting it up with superhuman strength, he dragged it to the door, so as to form a barricade. Then piling up all

the rest of the furniture, the mattresses, palliasses and chairs, he stopped up the windows as one does when

But the person outside now uttered long, plaintive, mournful groans, to which the young man replied by

similar groans, and thus days and nights passed without their ceasing to howl at each other. The one was

continually walking round the house and scraped the walls with his nails so vigorously that it seemed as if he

wished to destroy them, while the other, inside, followed all his movements, stooping down and holding his

ear to the walls and replying to all his appeals with terrible cries. One evening, however, Ulrich heard nothing

more, and he sat down, so overcome by fatigue, that he went to sleep immediately and awoke in the morning

without a thought, without any recollection of what had happened, just as if his head had been emptied during

The winter was over and the Gemmi Pass was practicable again, so the Hauser family started off to return to

their inn. As soon as they had reached the top of the ascent the women mounted their mule and spoke about

the two men whom they would meet again shortly. They were, indeed, rather surprised that neither of them

had come down a few days before, as soon as the road was open, in order to tell them all about their long

winter sojourn. At last, however, they saw the inn, still covered with snow, like a quilt. The door and the

window were closed, but a little smoke was coming out of the chimney, which reassured old Hauser. On

going up to the door, however, he saw the skeleton of an animal which had been torn to pieces by the eagles,

"That must be Sam," and then she shouted: "Hi, Gaspard!" A cry from the interior of the house answered her

and a sharp cry that one might have thought some animal had uttered it. Old Hauser repeated, "Hi, Gaspard!"

Then the three men, the father and the two sons, tried to open the door, but it resisted their efforts. From the

empty cowstall they took a beam to serve as a batteringram and hurled it against the door with all their

might. The wood gave way and the boards flew into splinters. Then the house was shaken by a loud voice,

and inside, behind the side board which was overturned, they saw a man standing upright, with his hair

falling on his shoulders and a beard descending to his breast, with shining eyes, and nothing but rags to cover

"It is Ulrich, mother." And her mother declared that it was Ulrich, although his hair was white.

He allowed them to go up to him and to touch him, but he did not reply to any of their questions, and they

were obliged to take him to Loeche, where the doctors found that he was mad, and nobody ever found out

Little Louise Hauser nearly died that summer of decline, which the physicians attributed to the cold air of the