第8章

Whentheyreachedthebridge，theyturnedtotheright，andgotthefreshbreezefromtheriver，whichrolledalong，calmandmelancholy，borderedbytallpoplartrees，whilethestarslookedasiftheywerefloatingonthewaterandwere—movingwiththecurrent.Aslightwhitemistthatfloatedovertheoppositebanks，filledtheirlungswithasensationofcold，andCaravanstoppedsuddenly，forhewasstruckbythatsmellfromthewaterwhichbroughtbackoldmemoriestohismind.For，inhismind，hesuddenlysawhismotheragain，inPicardy，ashehadseenheryearsbefore，kneelinginfrontoftheirdoor，andwashingtheheapsoflinenathersideinthestreamthatranthroughtheirgarden.Healmostfanciedthathecouldhearthesoundofthewoodenpaddlewithwhichshebeatthelineninthecalmsilenceofthecountry，andhervoice，asshecalledouttohim："Alfred，bringmesomesoap."Andhesmelledthatodorofrunningwater，ofthemistrisingfromthewetground，thatmarshysmell，whichheshouldneverforget，andwhichcamebacktohimonthisveryeveningonwhichhismotherhaddied.

Hestopped，seizedwithafeelingofdespair.Asuddenflashseemedtorevealtohimtheextentofhiscalamity，andthatbreathfromtheriverplungedhimintoanabyssofhopelessgrief.Hislifeseemedcutinhalf，hisyouthdisappeared，swallowedupbythatdeath.Alltheformerdayswereoveranddonewith，alltherecollectionsofhisyouthhadbeensweptaway;forthefuture，therewouldbenobodytotalktohimofwhathadhappenedindaysgoneby，ofthepeoplehehadknownofold，ofhisownpartofthecountry，andofhispastlife;thatwasapartofhisexistencewhichexistednolonger，andtherestmightaswellendnow.

Andthenhesaw"themother"asshewaswhenyoung，wearingwell—worndresses，whichherememberedforsuchalongtimethattheyseemedinseparablefromher;herecollectedhermovements，thedifferenttonesofhervoice，herhabits，herpredilections，herfitsofanger，thewrinklesonherface，themovementsofherthinfingers，andallherwell—knownattitudes，whichshewouldneverhaveagain，andclutchingholdofthedoctor，hebegantomoanandweep.Histhinlegsbegantotremble，hiswholestoutbodywasshakenbyhissobs，allhecouldsaywas：

"Mymother，mypoormother，mypoormother！"

Buthiscompanion，whowasstilldrunk，andwhointendedtofinishtheeveningincertainplacesofbadreputethathefrequentedsecretly，madehimsitdownonthegrassbytheriverside，andlefthimalmostimmediately，underthepretextthathehadtoseeapatient.

Caravanwentoncryingforsometime，andwhenhehadgottotheendofhistears，whenhisgriefhad，sotosay，runout，heagainfeltrelief，reposeandsuddentranquillity.

Themoonhadrisen，andbathedthehorizoninitssoftlight.

Thetallpoplartreeshadasilverysheenonthem，andthemistontheplainlookedlikedriftingsnow;theriver，inwhichthestarswerereflected，andwhichhadasheenasofmother—of—pearl，wasgentlyrippledbythewind.Theairwassoftandsweet，andCaravaninhaleditalmostgreedily，andthoughtthathecouldperceiveafeelingoffreshness，ofcalmandofsuperhumanconsolationpervadinghim.

Heactuallyresistedthatfeelingofcomfortandrelief，andkeptonsayingtohimself："Mypoormother，mypoormother！"andtriedtomakehimselfcry，fromakindofconscientiousfeeling;buthecouldnotsucceedindoingsoanylonger，andthosesadthoughts，whichhadmadehimsobsobitterlyashoretimebefore，hadalmostpassedaway.Inafewmoments，herosetogohome，andreturnedslowly，undertheinfluenceofthatserenenight，andwithaheartsoothedinspiteofhimself.

Whenhereachedthebridge，hesawthatthelasttramcarwasreadytostart，andbehinditwerethebrightlylightedwindowsoftheCafeduGlobe.Hefeltalongingtotellsomebodyofhisloss，toexcitepity，tomakehimselfinteresting.Heputonawoefulface，pushedopenthedoor，andwentuptothecounter，wherethelandlordstillwas.Hehadcountedoncreatingasensation，andhadhopedthateverybodywouldgetupandcometohim.withoutstretchedhands，andsay："Why，whatisthematterwithyou？"Butnobodynoticedhisdisconsolateface，soherestedhistwoelbowsonthecounter，and，buryinghisfaceinhishands，hemurmured："MonDieu！MonDieu！"

Thelandlordlookedathimandsaid："Areyouill，MonsieurCaravan？"

"No，myfriend，"hereplied，"butmymotherhasjustdied."

"Ah！"theotherexclaimed，andasacustomerattheotherendoftheestablishmentaskedforaglassofBavarianbeer，hewenttoattendtohim，leavingCaravandumfoundedathiswantofsympathy.

Thethreedominoplayersweresittingatthesametablewhichtheyhadoccupiedbeforedinner，totallyabsorbedintheirgame，andCaravanwentuptothem，insearchofpity，butasnoneofthemappearedtonoticehimhemadeuphismindtospeak.

"AgreatmisfortunehashappenedtomesinceIwashere，"hesaid.

Allthreeslightlyraisedtheirheadsatthesameinstant，butkeepingtheireyesfixedonthepieceswhichtheyheldintheirhands.

"Whatdoyousay？"

"Mymotherhasjustdied";whereupononeofthemsaid：

"Oh！thedevil，"withthatfalseairofsorrowwhichindifferentpeopleassume.Another，whocouldnotfindanythingtosay，emittedasortofsympatheticwhistle，shakinghisheadatthesametime，andthethirdturnedtothegameagain，asifheweresayingtohimself："Isthatall！"

Caravanhadexpectedsomeoftheseexpressionsthataresaidto"comefromtheheart，"andwhenhesawhowhisnewswasreceived，heleftthetable，indignantattheircalmnessattheirfriend’ssorrow，althoughthissorrowhadstupefiedhimsothathescarcelyfeltitanylonger.

Whenhegothomehiswifewaswaitingforhiminhernightgown，andsittinginalowchairbytheopenwindow，stillthinkingoftheinheritance.

"Undressyourself，"shesaid;"wecangoontalking."

Heraisedhishead，andlookingattheceiling，said：

"But——thereisnobodyupstairs."

"Ibegyourpardon，Rosalieiswithher，andyoucangoandtakeherplaceatthreeo’clockinthemorning，whenyouhavehadsomesleep."

Heonlypartiallyundressed，however，soastobereadyforanythingthatmighthappen，andaftertyingasilkhandkerchiefroundhishead，helaydowntorest，andforsometimeneitherofthemspoke.MadameCaravanwasthinking.

Hernightcapwasadornedwitharedbow，andwaspushedrathertooneside，aswasthewaywithallthecapsshewore，andpresentlysheturnedtowardshimandsaid：

"Doyouknowwhetheryourmothermadeawill？"

Hehesitatedforamoment，andthenreplied：

"I——Idonotthinkso.No，Iamsurethatshedidnot."

Hiswifelookedathim，andshesaid，inalaw，angrytone：

"Icallthatinfamous;herewehavebeenwearingourselvesoutfortenyearsinlookingafterher，andhaveboardedandlodgedher！Yoursisterwouldnothavedonesomuchforher，norIeither，ifIhadknownhowI

wastoberewarded！Yes，itisadisgracetohermemory！Idaresaythatyouwilltellmethatshepaidus，butonecannotpayone’schildreninreadymoneyforwhattheydo;thatobligationisrecognizedafterdeath;atanyrate，thatishowhonorablepeopleact.SoIhavehadallmyworryandtroublefornothing！Oh，thatisnice！thatisverynice！"

PoorCaravan，whowasalmostdistracted，keptonrepeating：

"Mydear，mydear，please，pleasebequiet."

Shegrewcalmerbydegrees，and，resumingherusualvoiceandmanner，shecontinued：

"Wemustletyoursisterknowto—morrow."

Hestarted，andsaid：

"Ofcoursewemust;Ihadforgottenallaboutit;Iwillsendheratelegramthefirstthinginthemorning."

"No，"shereplied，likeawomanwhohadforeseeneverything;"no，donotsenditbeforetenoreleveno’clock，sothatwemayhavetimetoturnroundbeforeshecomes.ItdoesnottakemorethantwohourstogetherefromCharenton，andwecansaythatyoulostyourheadfromgrief.Ifweletherknowinthecourseoftheday，thatwillbesoonenough，andwillgiveustimetolookround."

Caravanputhishandtohisforehead，and，inthecametimidvoiceinwhichhealwaysspokeofhischief，theverythoughtofwhommadehimtremble，hesaid：

"Imustletthemknowattheoffice."

"Why？"shereplied."Onoccasionslikethis，itisalwaysexcusabletoforget.Takemyadvice，anddon’tlethimknow;yourchiefwillnotbeabletosayanythingtoyou，andyouwillputhiminanicefix.

"Oh！yes，thatIshall，andhewillbeinaterriblerage，too，whenhenoticesmyabsence.Yes，youareright;itisacapitalidea，andwhenI

tellhimthatmymotherisdead，hewillbeobligedtoholdhistongue."

Andherubbedhishandsindelightatthejoke，whenhethoughtofhischief’sface;whileupstairslaythebodyofthedeadoldwoman，withtheservantasleepbesideit.

ButMadameCaravangrewthoughtful，asifshewerepreoccupiedbysomethingwhichshedidnotcaretomention，andatlastshesaid：

"Yourmotherhadgivenyouherclock，hadshenot——thegirlplayingatcupandball？"

Hethoughtforamoment，andthenreplied：

"Yes，yes;shesaidtome（butitwasalongtimeago，whenshefirstcamehere）：’Ishallleavetheclocktoyou，ifyoulookaftermewell.’"

MadameCaravanwasreassured，andregainedherserenity，andsaid：

"Well，then，youmustgoandfetchitoutofherroom，forifwegetyoursisterhere，shewillpreventusfromtakingit."

Hehesitated.

"Doyouthinkso？"

Thatmadeherangry.

"Icertainlythinkso;onceitisinourpossession，shewillknownothingatallaboutwhereitcamefrom;itbelongstous.Itisjustthesamewiththechestofdrawerswiththemarbletop，thatisinherroom;shegaveitmeonedaywhenshewasinagoodtemper.Wewillbringitdownatthesametime."

Caravan，however，seemedincredulous，andsaid：

"But，mydear，itisagreatresponsibility！"

Sheturnedonhimfuriously.

"Oh！Indeed！Willyouneverchange？Youwouldletyourchildrendieofhunger，ratherthanmakeamove.Doesnotthatchestofdrawersbelongtous，asshegaveittome？Andifyoursisterisnotsatisfied，lethertellmeso，me！Idon’tcareastrawforyoursister.Come，getup，andwewillbringdownwhatyourmothergaveus，immediately."

Tremblingandvanquished，hegotoutofbedandbegantoputonhistrousers，butshestoppedhim：

"Itisnotworthwhiletodressyourself;yourunderwearisquiteenough.

ImeantogoasIam."

Theybothlefttheroomintheirnightclothes，wentupstairsquitenoiselessly，openedthedoorandwentintotheroom，wherethefourlightedtapersandtheplatewiththesprigofboxaloneseemedtobewatchingtheoldwomaninherrigidrepose，forRosalie，whowaslyingbackintheeasychairwithherlegsstretchedout，herhandsfoldedinherlap，andherheadononeside，wasalsoquitemotionless，andwassnoringwithhermouthwideopen.

Caravantooktheclock，whichwasoneofthosegrotesqueobjectsthatwereproducedsoplentifullyundertheEmpire.Agirlingiltbronzewasholdingacupandball，andtheballformedthependulum.

"Givethattome，"hiswifesaid，"andtakethemarbleslaboffthechestofdrawers."

Heputthemarbleslabonhisshoulderwithconsiderableeffort，andtheylefttheroom.Caravanhadtostoopinthedoorway，andtrembledashewentdownstairs，whilehiswifewalkedbackwards，soastolighthim，andheldthecandlestickinonehand，carryingtheclockundertheotherarm.

Whentheywereintheirownroom，sheheavedasigh.

"Wehavegotovertheworstpartofthejob，"shesaid;"sonowletusgoandfetchtheotherthings."

Butthebureaudrawerswerefulloftheoldwoman’swearingapparel，whichtheymustmanagetohidesomewhere，andMadameCaravansoonthoughtofaplan.

"Goandgetthatwoodenpackingcaseinthevestibule;itishardlyworthanything，andwemayjustaswellputithere."

Andwhenhehadbroughtitupstairstheybegantofillit.Onebyonetheytookoutallthecollars，cuffs，chemises，caps，allthewell—wornthingsthathadbelongedtothepoorwomanlyingtherebehindthem，andarrangedthemmethodicallyinthewoodenboxinsuchamannerastodeceiveMadameBraux，thedeceasedwoman’sotherchild，whowouldbecomingthenextday.

Whentheyhadfinished，theyfirstofallcarriedthebureaudrawersdownstairs，andtheremainingportionafterwards，eachofthemholdinganend，anditwassometimebeforetheycouldmakeuptheirmindswhereitwouldstandbest;butatlasttheydecidedupontheirownroom，oppositethebed，betweenthetwowindows，andassoonasitwasinitsplaceMadameCaravanfilleditwithherownthings.Theclockwasplacedonthechimney—pieceinthedining—room，andtheylookedtoseewhattheeffectwas，andwerebothdelightedwithitandagreedthatnothingcouldbebetter.Thentheyretired，sheblewoutthecandle，andsooneverybodyinthehousewasasleep.

Itwasbroaddaylightwhen.Caravanopenedhiseyesagain.Hismindwasratherconfusedwhenhewokeup，andhedidnotclearlyrememberwhathadhappenedforafewminutes;whenhedid，hefeltaweightathisheart，andjumpedoutofbed，almostreadytocryagain.

Hehastenedtotheroomoverhead，whereRosaliewasstillsleepinginthesamepositionasthenightbefore，nothavingawakenedonce.Hesenthertodoherwork，putfreshtapersintheplaceofthosethathadburntout，andthenhelookedathismother，revolvinginhisbrainthoseapparentlyprofoundthoughts，thosereligiousandphilosophicalcommonplaceswhichtroublepeopleofmediocreintelligenceinthepresenceofdeath.

But，ashiswifewascallinghim，hewentdownstairs.Shehadwrittenoutalistofwhathadtobedoneduringthemorning，andhewashorrifiedwhenbesawthememorandum：

1.Reportthedeathatthemayor’soffice.

2.Seethedoctorwhohadattendedher.

3.Orderthecoffin.

4.Givenoticeatthechurch.

5.Gototheundertaker.

6.Orderthenoticesofherdeathattheprinter’s.

7.Gotothelawyer.

8.Telegraphthenewstoallthefamily.

Besidesallthis，therewereanumberofsmallcommissions;sohetookhishatandwentout.Asthenewshadspreadabroad，MadameCaravan’sfemalefriendsandneighborssoonbegantocomeinandbeggedtobeallowedtoseethebody.Therehadbeenascenebetweenhusbandandwifeatthehairdresser’sonthegroundflooraboutthematter，whileacustomerwasbeingshaved.Thewife，whowasknittingsteadily，said：

"Well，thereisoneless，andasgreatamiserasoneevermeetswith.

Icertainlydidnotcareforher;but，nevertheless，Imustgoandhavealookather."

Thehusband，whilelatheringhispatient’schin，said："Thatisanotherqueerfancy！Nobodybutawomanwouldthinkofsuchathing.Itisnotenoughforthemtoworryyouduringlife，buttheycannotevenleaveyouatpeacewhenyouaredead："Buthiswife，withoutbeingintheleastdisconcerted，replied："ThefeelingisstrongerthanIam，andImustgo.

Ithasbeenonmesincethemorning.IfIwerenottoseeher，Ishouldthinkaboutitallmylife;butwhenIhavehadagoodlookather，I

shallbesatisfied."

Theknightoftherazorshruggedhisshouldersandremarkedinalowvoicetothegentlemanwhosecheekhewasscraping："Ijustaskyou，whatsortofideasdoyouthinktheseconfoundedfemaleshave？Ishouldnotamusemyselfbygoingtoseeacorpse！"Buthiswifehadheardhimandrepliedveryquietly："Butitisso，itisso."Andthen，puttingherknittingonthecounter，shewentupstairstothefirstfloor，whereshemettwootherneighbors，whohadjustcome，andwhowerediscussingtheeventwithMadameCaravan，whowasgivingthemthedetails，andtheyallwenttogethertothedeathchamber.Thefourwomenwentinsoftly，and，oneaftertheother，sprinkledthebedclotheswiththesaltwater，kneltdown，madethesignofthecrosswhiletheymumbledaprayer.Thentheyrosefromtheirkneesandlookedforsometimeatthecorpsewithround，wide—openeyesandmouthspartlyopen，whilethedaughter—in—lawofthedeadwoman，withherhandkerchieftoherface，pretendedtobesobbingpiteously.

WhensheturnedabouttowalkawaywhomshouldsheperceivestandingclosetothedoorbutMarie—LouiseandPhilippe—Auguste，whowerecuriouslytakingstockofallthatwasgoingon.Then，forgettingherpretendedgrief，shethrewherselfuponthemwithupliftedhands，cryingoutinafuriousvoice，"Willyougetoutofthis，youhorridbrats！"

Tenminuteslater，goingupstairsagainwithanothercontingentofneighbors，sheprayed，weptprofusely，performedallherduties，andfoundoncemorehertwochildren，whohadfollowedherupstairs.Sheagainboxedtheirearssoundly，butthenexttimeshepaidnoheedtothem，andateachfresharrivalofvisitorsthetwourchinsalwaysfollowedinthewake，kneelingdowninacornerandimitatingslavishlyeverythingtheysawtheirmotherdo.

Whentheafternooncamethecrowdsofinquisitivepeoplebegantodiminish，andsoontherewerenomorevisitors.MadameCaravan，returningtoherownapartments，begantomakethenecessarypreparationsforthefuneralceremony，andthedeceasedwasleftalone.

Thewindowoftheroomwasopen.Atorridheatentered，alongwithcloudsofdust;theflamesofthefourcandleswereflickeringbesidetheimmobilecorpse，andupontheclothwhichcoveredtheface，theclosedeyes，thetwostretched—outhands，smallfliesalighted，came，wentandcareeredupanddownincessantly，beingtheonlycompanionsoftheoldwomanforthetimebeing.

Marie—LouiseandPhilippe—Auguste，however，hadnowleftthehouseandwererunningupanddownthestreet.Theyweresoonsurroundedbytheirplaymates，bylittlegirlsespecially，whowereolderandwhoweremuchmoreinterestedinallthemysteriesoflife，askingquestionsasiftheyweregrownpeople.

"Thenyourgrandmotherisdead？""Yes，shediedyesterdayevening."

"Whatdoesadeadpersonlooklike？"

ThenMariebegantoexplain，tellingallaboutthecandles，thesprigofboxandthefaceofthecorpse.Itwasnotlongbeforegreatcuriositywasarousedinthemindsofallthechildren，andtheyaskedtobeallowedtogoupstairstolookatthedeparted.

Marie—Louiseatonceorganizedafirstexpedition，consistingoffivegirlsandtwoboys——thebiggestandthemostcourageous.Shemadethemtakeofftheirshoessothattheymightnotbediscovered.Thetroupefiledintothehouseandmountedthestairsasstealthilyasanarmyofmice.

Onceinthechamber，thelittlegirl，imitatinghermother，regulatedtheceremony.Shesolemnlywalkedinadvanceofhercomrades，wentdownonherknees，madethesignofthecross，movedherlipsasinprayer，rose，sprinkledthebed，andwhilethechildren，allcrowdedtogether，wereapproaching——frightenedandcuriousandeagertolookatthefaceandhandsofthedeceased——shebegansuddenlytosimulatesobbingandtoburyhereyesinherlittlehandkerchief.Then，becominginstantlyconsoled，onthinkingoftheotherchildrenwhoweredownstairswaitingatthedoor，sherandownstairsfollowedbytherest，returninginaminutewithanothergroup，thenathird;forallthelittleragamuffinsofthecountryside，eventothelittlebeggarsinrags，hadcongregatedinordertoparticipateinthisnewpleasure;andeachtimesherepeatedhermother’sgrimaceswithabsoluteperfection.

Atlength，however，shebecametired.Somegameorotherdrewthechildrenawayfromthehouse，andtheoldgrandmotherwasleftalone，forgottensuddenlybyeverybody.

Theroomwasgrowingdark，anduponthedryandrigidfeaturesofthecorpsethefitfulflamesofthecandlescastpatchesoflight.

Towards8o’clockCaravanascendedtothechamberofdeath，closedthewindowsandrenewedthecandles.Hewasnowquitecomposedonenteringtheroom，accustomedalreadytoregardthecorpseasthoughithadbeenthereformonths.Heevenwentthelengthofdeclaringthat，asyet，therewerenosignsofdecomposition，makingthisremarkjustatthemomentwhenheandhiswifewereabouttositdownattable."Pshaw！"

sheresponded，"sheisnowstarkandstiff;shewillkeepforayear."

Thesoupwaseateninsilence.Thechildren，whohadbeenlefttothemselvesallday，nowwornoutbyfatigue，weresleepingsoundlyontheirchairs，andnobodyventuredtobreakthesilence.

Suddenlytheflameofthelampwentdown.MadameCaravanimmediatelyturnedupthewick，ahollowsoundensued，andthelightwentout.Theyhadforgottentobuyoil.Tosendforitnowtothegrocer’swouldkeepbackthedinner，andtheybegantolookforcandles，butnoneweretobefoundexceptthetaperswhichhadbeenplaceduponthetableupstairsinthedeathchamber.

MadameCaravan，alwayspromptinherdecisions，quicklydespatchedMarie—

Louisetofetchtwo，andherreturnwasawaitedintotaldarkness.

Thefootstepsofthegirlwhohadascendedthestairsweredistinctlyheard.Therewassilenceforafewsecondsandthenthechilddescendedprecipitately.Shethrewopenthedoorandinachokingvoicemurmured：

"Oh！papa，grandmammaisdressingherself！"

Caravanboundedtohisfeetwithsuchprecipitancethathischairfelloveragainstthewall.Hestammeredout："Yousay？Whatareyousaying？"

ButMarie—Louise，gaspingwithemotion，repeated："Grand——grand——

grandmammaisputtingonherclothes，sheiscomingdownstairs."

Caravanrushedboldlyupthestaircase，followedbyhiswife，dumfounded;

buthecametoastandstillbeforethedoorofthesecondfloor，overcomewithterror，notdaringtoenter.Whatwashegoingtosee？MadameCaravan，morecourageous，turnedthehandleofthedoorandsteppedforwardintotheroom.

Theoldwomanwasstandingup.Inawakeningfromherlethargicsleep，beforeevenregainingfullconsciousness，inturninguponhersideandraisingherselfonherelbow，shehadextinguishedthreeofthecandleswhichburnednearthebed.Then，gainingstrength，shegotoffthebedandbegantolookforherclothes.Theabsenceofherchestofdrawershadatfirstworriedher，but，afteralittle，shehadsucceededinfindingherthingsatthebottomofthewoodenbox，andwasnowquietlydressing.Sheemptiedtheplatefulofwater，replacedthesprigofboxbehindthelooking—glass，andarrangedthechairsintheirplaces，andwasreadytogodownstairswhenthereappearedbeforeherhersonanddaughter—in—law.

Caravanrushedforward，seizedherbythehands，embracedherwithtearsinhiseyes，whilehiswife，whowasbehindhim，repeatedinahypocriticaltoneofvoice："Oh，whatablessing！oh，whatablessing！"

Buttheoldwoman，withoutbeingatallmoved，withoutevenappearingtounderstand，rigidasastatue，andwithglazedeyes，simplyasked："Willdinnersoonbeready？"

Hestammeredout，notknowingwhathesaid：

"Oh，yes，mother，wehavebeenwaitingforyou."

Andwithanalacrityunusualinhim，hetookherarm，whileMadameCaravan，theyounger，seizedthecandleandlightedthemdownstairs，walkingbackwardsinfrontofthem，stepbystep，justasshehaddonethepreviousnightforherhusband，whowascarryingthemarble.

Onreachingthefirstfloor，shealmostranagainstpeoplewhowereascendingthestairs.ItwastheCharentonfamily，MadameBraux，followedbyherhusband.

Thewife，tallandstout，withaprominentstomach，openedwideherterrifiedeyesandwasreadytomakeherescape.Thehusband，asocialistshoemaker，alittlehairyman，theperfectimageofamonkey，murmuredquiteunconcerned："Well，whatnext？Issheresurrected？"

AssoonasMadameCaravanrecognizedthem，shemadefranticgesturestothem;then，speakingaloud，shesaid："Why，hereyouare！Whatapleasantsurprise！"

ButMadameBraux，dumfounded，understoodnothing.Sherespondedinalowvoice："Itwasyourtelegramthatbroughtus;wethoughtthatallwasover."

Herhusband，whowasbehindher，pinchedhertomakeherkeepsilent.

Headdedwithaslylaugh，whichhisthickbeardconcealed："Itwasverykindofyoutoinviteushere.Wesetoutposthaste，"whichremarkshowedthehostilitywhichhadforalongtimereignedbetweenthehouseholds.Then，justastheoldwomanreachedthelaststeps，hepushedforwardquicklyandrubbedhishairyfaceagainsthercheeks，shoutinginherear，onaccountofherdeafness："Howwellyoulook，mother;sturdyasusual，hey！"

MadameBraux，inherstupefactionatseeingtheoldwomanalive，whomtheyallbelievedtobedead，darednotevenembraceher;andherenormousbulkblockedupthepassagewayandhinderedtheothersfromadvancing.Theoldwoman，uneasyandsuspicious，butwithoutspeaking，lookedateveryonearoundher;andherlittlegrayeyes，piercingandhard，fixedthemselvesnowononeandnowontheother，andtheyweresofullofmeaningthatthechildrenbecamefrightened.

Caravan，toexplainmatters，said："Shehasbeensomewhatill，butsheisbetternow;quitewell，indeed，areyounot，mother？"

Thenthegoodwoman，continuingtowalk，repliedinahuskyvoice，asthoughitcamefromadistance："Itwassyncope.Iheardyouallthewhile."

Anembarrassingsilencefollowed.Theyenteredthedining—room，andinafewminutesallsatdowntoanimproviseddinner.

OnlyM.Brauxhadretainedhisself—possession.Hisgorillafeaturesgrinnedwickedly，whileheletfallsomewordsofdoublemeaningwhichpainfullydisconcertedeveryone.

Butthedoorbellkeptringingeverysecond，andRosalie，distracted，cametocallCaravan，whorushedout，throwingdownhisnapkin.Hisbrother—in—lawevenaskedhimwhetheritwasnotoneofhisreceptiondays，towhichhestammeredoutinanswer："No，onlyafewpackages;

nothingmore."

Aparcelwasbroughtin，whichhebegantoopencarelessly，andthemourningannouncementswithblackbordersappearedunexpectedly.

Reddeninguptotheveryeyes，heclosedthepackagehurriedlyandpusheditunderhiswaistcoat.

Hismotherhadnotseenit！Shewaslookingintentlyatherclockwhichstoodonthemantelpiece，andtheembarrassmentincreasedinmidstofadeadsilence.Turningherwrinkledfacetowardsherdaughter，theoldwoman，inwhoseeyesgleamedmalice，said："OnMondayyoumusttakemeawayfromhere，sothatIcanseeyourlittlegirl.Iwantsomuchtoseeher."MadameBraux，herfeaturesallbeaming，exclaimed："Yes，mother，thatIwill，"whileMadameCaravan，theyounger，whohadturnedpale，wasreadytofaintwithannoyance.Thetwomen，however，graduallydriftedintoconversationandsoonbecameembroiledinapoliticaldiscussion.Brauxmaintainedthemostrevolutionaryandcommunisticdoctrines，hiseyesglowing，andgesticulatingandthrowingabouthisarms."Property，sir，"hesaid，"isarobberyperpetratedontheworkingclasses;thelandisthecommonpropertyofeveryman;hereditaryrightsareaninfamyandadisgrace."Butherehesuddenlystopped，lookingasifhehadjustsaidsomethingfoolish，thenaddedinsoftertones："Butthisisnotthepropermomenttodiscusssuchthings."

ThedoorwasopenedandDr.Chenetappeared.Foramomentheseemedbewildered，butregaininghisusualsmirkingexpressionofcountenance，hejauntilyapproachedtheoldwomanandsaid："Aha！mamma;youarebetterto—day.Oh！Ineverhadanydoubtbutyouwouldcomeroundagain;

infact，IsaidtomyselfasIwasmountingthestaircase，’IhaveanideathatIshallfindtheoldladyonherfeetoncemore’;"andashepattedhergentlyontheback："Ah！sheisassolidasthePont—Neuf，shewillburyusall;seeifshedoesnot."

Hesatdown，acceptedthecoffeethatwasofferedhim，andsoonbegantojoinintheconversationofthetwomen，backingupBraux，forhehimselfhadbeenmixedupintheCommune.

Theoldwoman，nowfeelingherselffatigued，wishedtoretire.Caravanrushedforward.Shelookedhimsteadilyintheeyeandsaid："You，youmustcarrymyclockandchestofdrawersupstairsagainwithoutamoment’sdelay.""Yes，mamma，"hereplied，gasping;"yes，Iwilldoso."

Theoldwomanthentookthearmofherdaughterandwithdrewfromtheroom.ThetwoCaravansremainedastounded，silent，plungedinthedeepestdespair，whileBrauxrubbedhishandsandsippedhiscoffeegleefully.

SuddenlyMadameCaravan，consumedwithrage，rushedathim，exclaiming：

"Youareathief，afootpad，acur！Iwouldspitinyourface！I——I——

would————"Shecouldfindnothingfurthertosay，suffocatingasshewaswithrage，whilehewentonsippinghiscoffeewithasmile.

Hiswifereturningjustthen，MadameCaravanattackedhersister—in—law，andthetwowomen——theonewithherenormousbulk，theotherepilepticandspare，withchangedvoicesandtremblinghandsflewatoneanotherwithwordsofabuse.

ChenetandBrauxnowinterposed，andthelatter，takinghisbetterhalfbytheshoulders，pushedheroutofthedoorbeforehim，shouting："Goon，youslut;youtalktoomuch";andthetwowereheardinthestreetquarrellinguntiltheydisappearedfromsight.

M.Chenetalsotookhisdeparture，leavingtheCaravansalone，facetoface.Thehusbandfellbackonhischair，andwiththecoldsweatstandingoutinbeadsonhistemples，murmured："WhatshallIsaytomychiefto—morrow？"

BESIDESCHOPENHAUER’SCORPSE

Hewasslowlydying，asconsumptivesdie.Isawhimeachday，abouttwoo’clock，sittingbeneaththehotelwindowsonabenchinthepromenade，lookingoutonthecalmsea.Heremainedforsometimewithoutmoving，intheheatofthesun，gazingmournfullyattheMediterranean.Everynowandthen，hecastaglanceattheloftymountainswithbecloudedsummitsthatshutinMentone;then，withaveryslowmovement，hewouldcrosshislonglegs，sothinthattheyseemedliketwobones，aroundwhichflutteredtheclothofhistrousers，andhewouldopenabook，alwaysthesamebook.Andthenhedidnotstiranymore，butreadon，readonwithhiseyeandhismind;allhiswastingbodyseemedtoread，allhissoulplunged，lost，disappeared，inthisbook，uptothehourwhenthecoolairmadehimcoughalittle.Then，hegotupandreenteredthehotel.

HewasatallGerman，withfairbeard，whobreakfastedanddinedinhisownroom，andspoketonobody.

Avague，curiosityattractedmetohim.Oneday，Isatdownbyhisside，havingtakenupabook，too，tokeepupappearances，avolumeofMusset’spoems.

AndIbegantolookthrough"Rolla."

Suddenly，myneighborsaidtome，ingoodFrench：

"DoyouknowGerman，monsieur？"

"Notatall，monsieur."

"Iamsorryforthat.Sincechancehasthrownussidebyside，Icouldhavelentyou，Icouldhaveshownyou，aninestimablething——thisbookwhichIholdinmyhand."

"Whatisit，pray？"

"Itisacopyofmymaster，Schopenhauer，annotatedwithhisownhand.

Allthemargins，asyoumaysee，arecoveredwithhishandwriting."

Itookthebookfromhimreverently，andIgazedattheseformsincomprehensibletome，butwhichrevealedtheimmortalthoughtsofthegreatestshattererofdreamswhohadeverdweltonearth.

AndMusset’sversesaroseinmymemory：

"Hastthoufoundout，Voltaire，thatitisblisstodie，Anddoesthyhideoussmileoverthybleachedbonesfly？"

AndinvoluntarilyIcomparedthechildishsarcasm，thereligioussarcasmofVoltairewiththeirresistibleironyoftheGermanphilosopherwhoseinfluenceishenceforthineffaceable.

Letusprotestandletusbeangry，letusbeindignant，orletusbeenthusiastic，Schopenhauerhasmarkedhumanitywiththesealofhisdisdainandofhisdisenchantment.

Adisabusedpleasure—seeker，heoverthrewbeliefs，hopes，poeticidealsandchimeras，destroyedtheaspirations，ravagedtheconfidenceofsouls，killedlove，draggeddownthechivalrousworshipofwomen，crushedtheillusionsofhearts，andaccomplishedthemostgigantictaskeverattemptedbyscepticism.Hesparednothingwithhismockingspirit，andexhaustedeverything.Andevento—daythosewhoexecratehimseemtocarryintheirownsoulsparticlesofhisthought.

"So，then，youwereintimatelyacquaintedwithSchopenhauer？"IsaidtotheGerman.

Hesmiledsadly.

"Uptothetimeofhisdeath，monsieur."

Andhespoketomeaboutthephilosopherandtoldmeaboutthealmostsupernaturalimpressionwhichthisstrangebeingmadeonallwhocamenearhim.

HegavemeanaccountoftheinterviewoftheoldiconoclastwithaFrenchpolitician，adoctrinaireRepublican，whowantedtogetaglimpseofthisman，andfoundhiminanoisytavern，seatedinthemidstofhisdisciples，dry，wrinkled，laughingwithanunforgettablelaugh，attackingandtearingtopiecesideasandbeliefswithasingleword，asadogtearswithonebiteofhisteeththetissueswithwhichheplays.

HerepeatedformethecommentofthisFrenchmanashewentaway，astonishedandterrified："IthoughtIhadspentanhourwiththedevil."

Thenheadded：

"Hehad，indeed，monsieur，afrightfulsmile，whichterrifiedusevenafterhisdeath.Icantellyouananecdoteaboutitthatisnotgenerallyknown，ifitwouldinterestyou."

Andhebegan，inalanguidvoice，interruptedbyfrequentfitsofcoughing.

"Schopenhauerhadjustdied，anditwasarrangedthatweshouldwatch，inturn，twobytwo，tillmorning.

"Hewaslyinginalargeapartment，verysimple，vastandgloomy.Twowaxcandleswereburningonthestandbythebedside.

"ItwasmidnightwhenIwentonwatch，togetherwithoneofourcomrades.

Thetwofriendswhomwereplacedhadlefttheapartment，andwecameandsatdownatthefootofthebed.

"Thefacewasnotchanged.Itwaslaughing.Thatpuckerwhichweknewsowelllingeredstillaroundthecornersofthelips，anditseemedtousthathewasabouttoopenhiseyes，tomoveandtospeak.Histhought，orratherhisthoughts，envelopedus.Wefeltourselvesmorethaneverintheatmosphereofhisgenius，absorbed，possessedbyhim.

Hisdominationseemedtobeevenmoresovereignnowthathewasdead.

Afeelingofmysterywasblendedwiththepowerofthisincomparablespirit.

"Thebodiesofthesemendisappear，buttheythemselvesremain;andinthenightwhichfollowsthecessationoftheirheart’spulsationIassureyou，monsieur，theyareterrifying.

"Andinhushedtoneswetalkedabouthim，recallingtomindcertainsayings，certainformulasofhis，thosestartlingmaximswhicharelikejetsofflameflung，inafewwords，intothedarknessoftheUnknownLife.

"’Itseemstomethatheisgoingtospeak，’saidmycomrade.Andwestaredwithuneasinessborderingonfearatthemotionlessface，withitseternallaugh.Gradually，webegantofeelillatease，oppressed，onthepointoffainting.Ifaltered：

"’Idon’tknowwhatisthematterwithme，but，IassureyouIamnotwell.’

"Andatthatmomentwenoticedthattherewasanunpleasantodorfromthecorpse.

"Then，mycomradesuggestedthatweshouldgointotheadjoiningroom，andleavethedooropen;andIassentedtohisproposal.

"Itookoneofthewaxcandleswhichburnedonthestand，andIleftthesecondbehind.Thenwewentandsatdownattheotherendoftheadjoiningapartment，insuchapositionthatwecouldseethebedandthecorpse，clearlyrevealedbythelight.

"Buthestillheldpossessionofus.Onewouldhavesaidthathisimmaterialessence，liberated，free，all—powerfulanddominating，wasflittingaroundus.Andsometimes，too，thedreadfulodorofthedecomposedbodycametowardusandpenetratedus，sickeningandindefinable.

"Suddenlyashiverpassedthroughourbones：asound，aslightsound，camefromthedeath—chamber.Immediatelywefixedourglancesonhim，andwesaw，yes，monsieur，wesawdistinctly，bothofus，somethingwhitepassacrossthebed，fallonthecarpet，andvanishunderanarmchair.

"Wewereonourfeetbeforewehadtimetothinkofanything，distractedbystupefyingterror，readytorunaway.Thenwestaredateachother.

Wewerehorriblypale.Ourheartsthrobbedfiercelyenoughtohaveraisedtheclothingonourchests.Iwasthefirsttospeak：

"’Didyousee？’

"’Yes，Isaw.’

"’Canitbethatheisnotdead？’

"’Why，whenthebodyisputrefying？’

"’Whatarewetodo？’

"Mycompanionsaidinahesitatingtone：

"’Wemustgoandlook.’

"Itookourwaxcandleandenteredfirst，glancingintoallthedarkcornersinthelargeapartment.Nothingwasmovingnow，andIapproachedthebed.ButIstoodtransfixedwithstuporandfright：

Schopenhauerwasnolongerlaughing！Hewasgrinninginahorriblefashion，withhislipspressedtogetheranddeephollowsinhischeeks.

Istammeredout：

"’Heisnotdead！’

"Buttheterribleodorascendedtomynoseandstifledme.AndInolongermoved，butkeptstaringfixedlyathim，terrifiedasifinthepresenceofanapparition.

"Thenmycompanion，havingseizedtheotherwaxcandle，bentforward.

Next，hetouchedmyarmwithoututteringaword.Ifollowedhisglance，andsawontheground，underthearmchairbythesideofthebed，standingoutwhiteonthedarkcarpet，andopenasiftobite，Schopenhauer’ssetofartificialteeth.

"Theworkofdecomposition，looseningthejaws，hadmadeitjumpoutofthemouth.

"Iwasreallyfrightenedthatday，monsieur."

Andasthesunwassinkingtowardtheglitteringsea，theconsumptiveGermanrosefromhisseat，gavemeapartingbow，andretiredintothehotel.

EndOriginalShortStories，Vol.3.

ByGuydeMaupassantVOLUMEIII.

MISSHARRIET

LITTLELOUISEROQUE

THEDONKEY

MOIRON

THEDISPENSEROFHOLYWATER

THEPARRICIDE

BERTHA

THEPATRON

THEDOOR

ASALE

THEIMPOLITESEX

AWEDDINGGIFT

THERELIC

MISSHARRIET

Thereweresevenofusonadrag，fourwomenandthreemen;oneofthelattersatontheboxseatbesidethecoachman.Wewereascending，atasnail’space，thewindingroadupthesteepcliffalongthecoast.

SettingoutfromEtretatatbreakofdayinordertovisittheruinsofTancarville，wewerestillhalfasleep，benumbedbythefreshairofthemorning.Thewomenespecially，whowerelittleaccustomedtotheseearlyexcursions，halfopenedandclosedtheireyeseverymoment，noddingtheirheadsoryawning，quiteinsensibletothebeautiesofthedawn.

Itwasautumn.Onbothsidesoftheroadstretchedthebarefields，yellowedbythestubbleofwheatandoatswhichcoveredthesoillikeabeardthathadbeenbadlyshaved.Themoistearthseemedtosteam.

Larksweresinginghighupintheair，whileotherbirdspipedinthebushes.

Thesunroseatlengthinfrontofus，brightredontheplaneofthehorizon，andinproportionasitascended，growingclearerfromminutetominute，thecountryseemedtoawake，tosmile，toshakeitselflikeayounggirlleavingherbedinherwhiterobeofvapor.TheComted’Etraille，whowasseatedonthebox，cried：

"Look！look！ahare！"andheextendedhisarmtowardtheleft，pointingtoapatchofclover.Theanimalscurriedalong，almosthiddenbytheclover，onlyitslargeearsshowing.Thenitswervedacrossafurrow，stopped，startedoffagainatfullspeed，changeditscourse，stoppedanew，uneasy，spyingouteverydanger，uncertainwhatroutetotake，whensuddenlyitbegantorunwithgreatbounds，disappearingfinallyinalargepatchofbeet—root.Allthemenhadwakeduptowatchthecourseoftheanimal.

ReneLamanoirexclaimed：

"Wearenotatallgallantthismorning，"and;regardinghisneighbor，thelittleBaronessdeSerennes，whostruggledagainstsleep，hesaidtoherinalowtone："Youarethinkingofyourhusband，baroness.Reassureyourself;hewillnotreturnbeforeSaturday，soyouhavestillfourdays."

Sheansweredwithasleepysmile：

"Howstupidyouare！"Then，shakingoffhertorpor，sheadded："Now，letsomebodysaysomethingtomakeuslaugh.You，MonsieurChenal，whohavethereputationofhavinghadmoreloveaffairsthantheDuedeRichelieu，tellusalovestoryinwhichyouhaveplayedapart;anythingyoulike."

LeonChenal，anoldpainter，whohadoncebeenveryhandsome，verystrong，veryproudofhisphysiqueandverypopularwithwomen，tookhislongwhitebeardinhishandandsmiled.Then，afterafewmoments’

reflection，hesuddenlybecameserious.

"Ladies，itwillnotbeanamusingtale，forIamgoingtorelatetoyouthesaddestloveaffairofmylife，andIsincerelyhopethatnoneofmyfriendsmayeverpassthroughasimilarexperience.

"Iwastwenty—fiveyearsofageandwaspillagingalongthecoastofNormandy.Icall’pillaging’wanderingabout，withaknapsackonone’sback，frominntoinn，underthepretextofmakingstudiesandsketchinglandscapes.Iknewnothingmoreenjoyablethanthathappy—go—luckywanderinglife，inwhichoneisperfectlyfree，withoutshacklesofanykind，withoutcare，withoutpreoccupation，withoutthinkingevenofthemorrow.Onegoesinanydirectiononepleases，withoutanyguidesavehisfancy，withoutanycounsellorsavehiseyes.Onestopsbecausearunningbrookattractsone，becausethesmellofpotatoesfryingticklesone’solfactoriesonpassinganinn.Sometimesitistheperfumeofclematiswhichdecidesoneinhischoiceortheroguishglanceoftheservantataninn.Donotdespisemeformyaffectionfortheserustics.

Thesegirlshaveasoulaswellassenses，nottomentionfirmcheeksandfreshlips;whiletheirheartyandwillingkisseshavetheflavorofwildfruit.Loveisalwayslove，comewhenceitmay.Aheartthatbeatsatyourapproach，aneyethatweepswhenyougoawayarethingssorare，sosweet，sopreciousthattheymustneverbedespised.

"Ihavehadrendezvousinditchesfullofprimroses，behindthecowstableandinbarnsamongthestraw，stillwarmfromtheheatoftheday.

Ihaverecollectionsofcoarsegrayclothcoveringsupplepeasantskinandregretsforsimple，frankkisses，moredelicateintheirunaffectedsinceritythanthesubtlefavorsofcharminganddistinguishedwomen.

"Butwhatonelovesmostamidallthesevariedadventuresisthecountry，thewoods，therisingofthesun，thetwilight，themoonlight.Theseare，forthepainter，honeymoontripswithNature.Oneisalonewithherinthatlongandquietassociation.Yougotosleepinthefields，amidmargueritesandpoppies，andwhenyouopenyoureyesinthefullglareofthesunlightyoudescryinthedistancethelittlevillagewithitspointedclocktowerwhichsoundsthehourofnoon.

"Yousitdownbythesideofaspringwhichgushesoutatthefootofanoak，amidagrowthoftall，slenderweeds，glisteningwithlife.Yougodownonyourknees，bendforwardanddrinkthatcold，pellucidwaterwhichwetsyourmustacheandnose;youdrinkitwithaphysicalpleasure，asthoughyoukissedthespring，liptolip.Sometimes，whenyoufindadeepholealongthecourseofthesetinybrooks，youplungeinquitenaked，andyoufeelonyourskin，fromheadtofoot，asitwere，anicyanddeliciouscaress，thelightandgentlequiveringofthestream.

"Youaregayonthehills，melancholyontheedgeofponds，inspiredwhenthesunissettinginanoceanofblood—redcloudsandcastsredreflectionsortheriver.Andatnight，underthemoon，whichpassesacrossthevaultofheaven，youthinkofathousandstrangethingswhichwouldneverhaveoccurredtoyourmindunderthebrilliantlightofday.

"So，inwanderingthroughthesamecountrywherewe，arethisyear，I

cametothelittlevillageofBenouville，onthecliffbetweenYportandEtretat.IcamefromFecamp，followingthecoast，ahighcoastasstraightasawall，withitsprojectingchalkcliffsdescendingperpendicularlyintothesea.Ihadwalkedsinceearlymorningontheshortgrass，smoothandyieldingasacarpet，thatgrowsontheedgeofthecliff.And，singinglustily，Iwalkedwithlongstrides，lookingsometimesattheslowcirclingflightofagullwithitswhitecurvedwingsoutlinedonthebluesky，sometimesatthebrownsailsofafishingbarkonthegreensea.Inshort，Ihadpassedahappyday，adayoflibertyandoffreedomfromcare.

"Alittlefarmhousewheretravellerswerelodgedwaspointedouttome，akindofinn，keptbyapeasantwoman，whichstoodinthecentreofaNormancourtyardsurroundedbyadoublerowofbeeches.

"Leavingthecoast，Ireachedthehamlet，whichwashemmedinbygreattrees，andIpresentedmyselfatthehouseofMotherLecacheur.

"Shewasanold，wrinkledandsternpeasantwoman，whoseemedalwaystoreceivecustomersunderprotest，withakindofdefiance.

"ItwasthemonthofMay.Thespreadingappletreescoveredthecourtwithashowerofblossomswhichrainedunceasinglybothuponpeopleanduponthegrass.

"Isaid：’Well，MadameLecacheur，haveyouaroomforme？’

"AstonishedtofindthatIknewhername，sheanswered：

"’Thatdepends;everythingislet，butallthesameIcanfindout."

"Infiveminuteswehadcometoanagreement，andIdepositedmybagupontheearthenfloorofarusticroom，furnishedwithabed，twochairs，atableandawashbowl.Theroomlookedintothelarge，smokykitchen，wherethelodgerstooktheirmealswiththepeopleofthefarmandthelandlady，whowasawidow.

"Iwashedmyhands，afterwhichIwentout.Theoldwomanwasmakingachickenfricasseefordinnerinthelargefireplaceinwhichhungtheironpot，blackwithsmoke.

"’Youhavetravellers，then，atthepresenttime？’saidItoher.

"Sheansweredinanoffendedtoneofvoice：

"’Ihavealady，anEnglishlady，whohasreachedyearsofmaturity.Sheoccupiestheotherroom.’

"Iobtained，bymeansofanextrafivesousaday，theprivilegeofdiningaloneoutintheyardwhentheweatherwasfine.

"Myplacewassetoutsidethedoor，andIwasbeginningtognawtheleanlimbsoftheNormandychicken，todrinktheclearciderandtomunchthehunkofwhitebread，whichwasfourdaysoldbutexcellent.

"Suddenlythewoodengatewhichgaveonthehighwaywasopened，andastrangeladydirectedherstepstowardthehouse.Shewasverythin，verytall，sotightlyenvelopedinaredScotchplaidshawlthatonemighthavesupposedshehadnoarms，ifonehadnotseenalonghandappearjustabovethehips，holdingawhitetouristumbrella.Herfacewaslikethatofamummy，surroundedwithcurlsofgrayhair，whichtossedaboutateverystepshetookandmademethink，Iknownotwhy，ofapickledherringincurlpapers.Loweringhereyes，shepassedquicklyinfrontofmeandenteredthehouse.

"Thatsingularapparitioncheeredme.Sheundoubtedlywasmyneighbor，theEnglishladyofmatureageofwhomourhostesshadspoken.

"Ididnotseeheragainthatday.Thenextday，whenIhadsettledmyselftocommencepaintingattheendofthatbeautifulvalleywhichyouknowandwhichextendsasfarasEtretat，Iperceived，onliftingmyeyessuddenly，somethingsingularstandingonthecrestofthecliff，onemighthavesaidapoledeckedoutwithflags.Itwasshe.Onseeingme，shesuddenlydisappeared.Ireenteredthehouseatmiddayforlunchandtookmyseatatthegeneraltable，soastomaketheacquaintanceofthisoddcharacter.Butshedidnotrespondtomypoliteadvances，wasinsensibleeventomylittleattentions.Ipouredoutwaterforherpersistently，Ipassedherthedisheswithgreateagerness.Aslight，almostimperceptible，movementoftheheadandanEnglishword，murmuredsolowthatIdidnotunderstandit，wereheronlyacknowledgments.

"Iceasedoccupyingmyselfwithher，althoughshehaddisturbedmythoughts.

"AttheendofthreedaysIknewasmuchaboutherasdidMadameLecacheurherself.

"ShewascalledMissHarriet.Seekingoutasecludedvillageinwhichtopassthesummer，shehadbeenattractedtoBenouvillesomesixmonthsbeforeanddidnotseemdisposedtoleaveit.Sheneverspokeattable，aterapidly，readingallthewhileasmallbookoftheProtestantpropaganda.Shegaveacopyofittoeverybody.Thecurehimselfhadreceivednolessthanfourcopies，conveyedbyanurchintowhomshehadpaidtwosouscommission.Shesaidsometimestoourhostessabruptly，withoutpreparingherintheleastforthedeclaration：

"’IlovetheSaviourmorethanall.Iadmirehiminallcreation;

Iadorehiminallnature;Icarryhimalwaysinmyheart.’

"Andshewouldimmediatelypresenttheoldwomanwithoneofhertractswhichweredestinedtoconverttheuniverse.

"In，thevillageshewasnotliked.Infact，theschoolmasterhavingpronouncedheranatheist，akindofstigmaattachedtoher.Thecure，whohadbeenconsultedbyMadameLecacheur，responded：

"’Sheisaheretic，butGoddoesnotwishthedeathofthesinner，andI

believehertobeapersonofpuremorals.’

"Thesewords，’atheist，’’heretic，’wordswhichnoonecanpreciselydefine，threwdoubtsintosomeminds.Itwasasserted，however，thatthisEnglishwomanwasrichandthatshehadpassedherlifeintravellingthrougheverycountryintheworldbecauseherfamilyhadcastheroff.Whyhadherfamilycastheroff？Becauseofherimpiety，ofcourse！

"Shewas，infact，oneofthosepeopleofexaltedprinciples;oneofthoseopinionatedpuritans，ofwhichEnglandproducessomany;oneofthosegoodandinsupportableoldmaidswhohauntthetablesd’hoteofeveryhotelinEurope，whospoilItaly，poisonSwitzerland，renderthecharmingcitiesoftheMediterraneanuninhabitable，carryeverywheretheirfantasticmaniastheirmannersofpetrifiedvestals，theirindescribabletoiletsandacertainodorofindia—rubberwhichmakesonebelievethatatnighttheyareslippedintoarubbercasing.

"WheneverIcaughtsightofoneoftheseindividualsinahotelIfledlikethebirdswhoseeascarecrowinafield.

"Thiswoman，however，appearedsoverysingularthatshedidnotdispleaseme.

"MadameLecacheur，hostilebyinstincttoeverythingthatwasnotrustic，feltinhernarrowsoulakindofhatredfortheecstaticdeclarationsoftheoldmaid.Shehadfoundaphrasebywhichtodescribeher，atermofcontemptthatrosetoherlips，calledforthbyIknownotwhatconfusedandmysteriousmentalratiocination.Shesaid：’Thatwomanisademoniac.’Thisepithet，appliedtothataustereandsentimentalcreature，seemedtomeirresistiblydroll.Imyselfnevercalledheranythingnowbut’thedemoniac，’experiencingasingularpleasureinpronouncingaloudthiswordonperceivingher.

"OnedayIaskedMotherLecacheur：’Well，whatisourdemoniacaboutto—

day？’

"Towhichmyrusticfriendrepliedwithashockedair：

"’Whatdoyouthink，sir？Shepickedupatoadwhichhadhaditspawcrushedandcarriedittoherroomandhasputitinherwashbasinandbandageditasifitwereaman.IfthatisnotprofanationIshouldliketoknowwhatis！’

"Onanotheroccasion，whenwalkingalongtheshoresheboughtalargefishwhichhadjustbeencaught，simplytothrowitbackintotheseaagain.Thesailorfromwhomshehadboughtit，althoughshepaidhimhandsomely，nowbegantoswear，moreexasperated，indeed，thanifshehadputherhandintohispocketandtakenhismoney.Formorethanamonthhecouldnotspeakofthecircumstancewithoutbecomingfuriousanddenouncingitasanoutrage.Oh，yes！Shewasindeedademoniac，thisMissHarriet，andMotherLecacheurmusthavehadaninspirationinthuschristeningher.

"Thestableboy，whowascalledSapeur，becausehehadservedinAfricainhisyouth，entertainedotheropinions.Hesaidwitharoguishair：

’Sheisanoldhagwhohasseenlife.’

"Ifthepoorwomanhadbutknown！

"Thelittlekind—heartedCelestedidnotwaituponherwillingly，butI

wasneverabletounderstandwhy.Probablyheronlyreasonwasthatshewasastranger，ofanotherrace;ofadifferenttongueandofanotherreligion.Shewas，infact，ademoniac！

"Shepassedhertimewanderingaboutthecountry，adoringandseekingGodinnature.Ifoundheroneeveningonherkneesinaclusterofbushes.

Havingdiscoveredsomethingredthroughtheleaves，Ibrushedasidethebranches，andMissHarrietatoncerosetoherfeet，confusedathavingbeenfoundthus，fixingonmeterrifiedeyeslikethoseofanowlsurprisedinopenday.

"Sometimes，whenIwasworkingamongtherocks，Iwouldsuddenlydescryherontheedgeoftheclifflikealighthousesignal.Shewouldbegazinginraptureatthevastseaglitteringinthesunlightandtheboundlessskywithitsgoldentints.SometimesIwoulddistinguishherattheendofthevalley，walkingquicklywithherelasticEnglishstep，andIwouldgotowardher，attractedbyIknownotwhat，simplytoseeherilluminatedvisage，herdried—up，ineffablefeatures，whichseemedtoglowwithinwardandprofoundhappiness.

"Iwouldoftenencounterheralsointhecornerofafield，sittingonthegrassundertheshadowofanappletree，withherlittlereligiousbookletlyingopenonherkneewhileshegazedoutatthedistance.

"Icouldnottearmyselfawayfromthatquietcountryneighborhood，towhichIwasattachedbyathousandlinksofloveforitswideandpeacefullandscape.Iwashappyinthissequesteredfarm，farremovedfromeverything，butintouchwiththeearth，thegood，beautiful，greenearth.And——mustIavowit？——therewas，besides，alittlecuriositywhichretainedmeattheresidenceofMotherLecacheur.IwishedtobecomeacquaintedalittlewiththisstrangeMissHarrietandtoknowwhattranspiresinthesolitarysoulsofthosewanderingoldEnglishwomen.

"Webecameacquaintedinarathersingularmanner.Ihadjustfinishedastudywhichappearedtometobeworthsomething，andsoitwas，asitsoldfortenthousandfrancsfifteenyearslater.Itwasassimple，however，astwoandtwomakefourandwasnotaccordingtoacademicrules.Thewholerightsideofmycanvasrepresentedarock，anenormousrock，coveredwithsea—wrack，brown，yellowandred，acrosswhichthesunpouredlikeastreamofoil.Thelightfellupontherockasthoughitwereaflamewithoutthesun，whichwasatmyback，beingvisible.Thatwasall.Afirstbewilderingstudyofblazing，gorgeouslight.

"Ontheleftwasthesea，notthebluesea，theslate—coloredsea，butaseaofjade，greenish，milkyandsolidbeneaththedeep—coloredsky.

"IwassopleasedwithmyworkthatIdancedfromsheerdelightasI

carrieditbacktotheinn.Iwouldhavelikedthewholeworldtoseeitatonce.IcanrememberthatIshowedittoacowthatwasbrowsingbythewayside，exclaimingasIdidso：’Lookatthat，myoldbeauty;youwillnotoftenseeitslikeagain.’

"WhenIhadreachedthehouseIimmediatelycalledouttoMotherLecacheur，shoutingwithallmymight：

"’Hullo，there！Mrs.Landlady，comehereandlookatthis.’

"Therusticapproachedandlookedatmyworkwithherstupideyeswhichdistinguishednothingandcouldnoteventellwhetherthepicturerepresentedanoxorahouse.

"MissHarrietjustthencamehome，andshepassedbehindmejustasIwasholdingoutmycanvasatarm’slength，exhibitingittoourlandlady.

Thedemoniaccouldnothelpbutseeit，forItookcaretoexhibitthethinginsuchawaythatitcouldnotescapehernotice.Shestoppedabruptlyandstoodmotionless，astonished.Itwasherrockwhichwasdepicted，theonewhichsheclimbedtodreamawayhertimeundisturbed.

"SheutteredaBritish’Aoh，’whichwasatoncesoaccentuatedandsoflatteringthatIturnedroundtoher，smiling，andsaid：

"’Thisismylateststudy，mademoiselle.’

"Shemurmuredrapturously，comicallyandtenderly：

"’Oh！monsieur，youunderstandnatureasalivingthing.’

"Icoloredandwasmoretouchedbythatcomplimentthanifithadcomefromaqueen.Iwascaptured，conquered，vanquished.Icouldhaveembracedher，uponmyhonor.

"Itookmyseatattablebesideherasusual.Forthefirsttimeshespoke，thinkingaloud：

"’Oh！Idolovenature.’

"Ipassedhersomebread，somewater，somewine.Shenowacceptedthesewithalittlesmileofamummy.Ithenbegantotalkaboutthescenery.

"Afterthemealwerosefromthetabletogetherandwalkedleisurelyacrossthecourtyard;then，attracteddoubtlessbythefieryglowwhichthesettingsuncastoverthesurfaceofthesea，Iopenedthegatewhichledtothecliff，andwewalkedalongsidebyside，ascontentedastwopersonsmightbewhohavejustlearnedtounderstandandpenetrateeachother’smotivesandfeelings.

"Itwasoneofthosewarm，softeveningswhichimpartasenseofeasetofleshandspiritalike.Allisenjoyment，everythingcharms.Thebalmyair，ladenwiththeperfumeofgrassesandthesmellofseaweed，soothestheolfactorysensewithitswildfragrance，soothesthepalatewithitsseasavor，soothesthemindwithitspervadingsweetness.

"Wewerenowwalkingalongtheedgeofthecliff，highabovetheboundlessseawhichrolleditslittlewavesbelowusatadistanceofahundredmetres.Andwedrankinwithopenmouthandexpandedchestthatfreshbreeze，brinyfromkissingthewaves，thatcamefromtheoceanandpassedacrossourfaces.

"Wrappedinherplaidshawl，withalookofinspirationasshefacedthebreeze，theEnglishwomangazedfixedlyatthegreatsunballasitdescendedtowardthehorizon.Faroffinthedistanceathree—masterinfullsailwasoutlinedontheblood—redskyandasteamship，somewhatnearer，passedalong，leavingbehinditatrailofsmokeonthehorizon.

Theredsunglobesankslowlylowerandlowerandpresentlytouchedthewaterjustbehindthemotionlessvessel，which，initsdazzlingeffulgence，lookedasthoughframedinaflameoffire.Wesawitplunge，growsmalleranddisappear，swallowedupbytheocean.

"MissHarrietgazedinraptureatthelastgleamsofthedyingday.Sheseemedlongingtoembracethesky，thesea，thewholelandscape.

"Shemurmured：’Aoh！Ilove——Ilove’Isawatearinhereye.Shecontinued：’IwishIwerealittlebird，sothatIcouldmountupintothefirmament.’

"SheremainedstandingasIhadoftenbeforeseenher，perchedonthecliff，herfaceasredashershawl.Ishouldhavelikedtohavesketchedherinmyalbum.Itwouldhavebeenacaricatureofecstasy.

"Iturnedawaysoasnottolaugh.

"IthenspoketoherofpaintingasIwouldhavedonetoafellowartist，usingthetechnicaltermscommonamongthedevoteesoftheprofession.

Shelistenedattentively，eagerlyseekingtodivinethemeaningoftheterms，soastounderstandmythoughts.Fromtimetotimeshewouldexclaim：

’Oh！Iunderstand，Iunderstand.Itisveryinteresting.’

"Wereturnedhome.

"Thenextday，onseeingme，sheapproachedme，cordiallyholdingoutherhand;andweatoncebecamefirmfriends.

"Shewasagoodcreaturewhohadakindofsoulonsprings，whichbecameenthusiasticatabound.Shelackedequilibriumlikeallwomenwhoarespinstersattheageoffifty.Sheseemedtobepreservedinapickleofinnocence，butherheartstillretainedsomethingveryyouthfulandinflammable.Shelovedbothnatureandanimalswithafervor，alovelikeoldwinefermentedthroughage，withasensuouslovethatshehadneverbestowedonmen.

"Onethingiscertain，thatthesightofabitchnursingherpuppies，amareroaminginameadowwithafoalatitsside，abird’snestfullofyoungones，screaming，withtheiropenmouthsandtheirenormousheads，affectedherperceptibly.

"Poor，solitary，sad，wanderingbeings！IloveyoueversinceIbecameacquaintedwithMissHarriet.

"Isoondiscoveredthatshehadsomethingshewouldliketotellme，butdarenot，andIwasamusedathertimidity.WhenIstartedoutinthemorningwithmyknapsackonmyback，shewouldaccompanymeinsilenceasfarastheendofthevillage，evidentlystrugglingtofindwordswithwhichtobeginaconversation.Thenshewouldleavemeabruptlyandwalkawayquicklywithherspringystep.

"Oneday，however，shepluckedupcourage：

"Iwouldliketoseehowyoupaintpictures.Areyouwilling？Ihavebeenverycurious.’

"Andsheblushedasifshehadsaidsomethingveryaudacious.

"IconductedhertothebottomofthePetit—Val，whereIhadbegunalargepicture.

"Sheremainedstandingbehindme，followingallmygestureswithconcentratedattention.Then，suddenly，fearingperhapsthatshewasdisturbingme，shesaid：’Thankyou，’andwalkedaway.

"Butshesoonbecamemorefriendly，andaccompaniedmeeveryday，hercountenanceexhibitingvisiblepleasure.Shecarriedhercampstoolunderherarm，notpermittingmetocarryit.Shewouldremainthereforhours，silentandmotionless，followingwithhereyesthepointofmybrush，initseverymovement.WhenIobtainedunexpectedlyjusttheeffectIwantedbyadashofcolorputonwiththepaletteknife，sheinvoluntarilyutteredalittle’Ah！’ofastonishment，ofjoy，ofadmiration.Shehadthemosttenderrespectformycanvases，analmostreligiousrespectforthathumanreproductionofapartofnature’sworkdivine.Mystudiesappearedtoherakindofreligiouspictures，andsometimesshespoketomeofGod，withtheideaofconvertingme.

"Oh，hewasaqueer，good—naturedbeing，thisGodofhers！Hewasasortofvillagephilosopherwithoutanygreatresourcesandwithoutgreatpower，forshealwaysfiguredhimtoherselfasinconsolableoverinjusticescommittedunderhiseyes，asthoughhewerepowerlesstopreventthem.

"Shewas，however，onexcellenttermswithhim，affectingeventobetheconfidanteofhissecretsandofhistroubles.Shewouldsay：

"’Godwills’or’Goddoesnotwill，’justlikeasergeantannouncingtoarecruit：’Thecolonelhascommanded.’

"AtthebottomofherheartshedeploredmyignoranceoftheintentionsoftheEternal，whichsheendeavoredtoimparttome.

"AlmosteverydayIfoundinmypockets，inmyhatwhenIlifteditfromtheground，inmypaintbox，inmypolishedshoes，standinginfrontofmydoorinthemorning，thoselittlepioustractswhichshenodoubt，receiveddirectlyfromParadise.

"Itreatedherasonewouldanoldfriend，withunaffectedcordiality.