第19章

"Thensheadded：’Ifyouwishtoseeitagain，monsieur，Iveryseldomgooutbeforethreeo’clock;andIcanbefoundathomeeveryday.’

"Inthestreetthestrangeraskedmeforsomedetailsaboutthebaroness，whomhehadfoundcharming.ButIdidnothearanythingmorefromeitherofthem.

"Threemonthspassedby.

"Onemorning，hardlytwoweeksago，shecamehereataboutlunchtime，and，placingarollofbillsinmyhand，said：’Mydear，youareanangel！Herearefiftythousandfrancs;Iambuyingyourcrucifix，andI

ampayingtwentythousandfrancsmoreforitthanthepriceagreedupon，onconditionthatyoualways——alwayssendyourclientstome——foritissillforsale.’"

MOTHERANDSON

Apartyofmenwerechattinginthesmokingroomafterdinner.Weweretalkingofunexpectedlegacies，strangeinheritances.ThenM.leBrument，whowassometimescalled"theillustriousjudge"andatothertimes"theillustriouslawyer，"wentandstoodwithhisbacktothefire.

"Ihave，"saidhe，"tosearchforanheirwhodisappearedunderpeculiarlydistressingcircumstances.Itisoneofthosesimpleandterribledramasofordinarylife，athingwhichpossiblyhappenseveryday，andwhichisneverthelessoneofthemostdreadfulthingsIknow.

Herearethefacts：

"NearlysixmonthsagoIwascalledtothebedsideofadyingwoman.Shesaidtome：

"’Monsieur，Iwanttointrusttoyouthemostdelicate，themostdifficult，andthemostwearisomemissionthatcanbeconceived.Begoodenoughtonoticemywill，whichisthereonthetable.Asumoffivethousandfrancsislefttoyouasafeeifyoudonotsucceed，andofahundredthousandfrancsifyoudosucceed.Iwantyoutofindmysonaftermydeath.’

"Sheaskedmetoassisthertositupinbed，inorderthatshemighttalkwithgreaterease，forhervoice，brokenandgasping，waswhistlinginherthroat.

"Itwasaverywealthyestablishment.Theluxuriousapartment，ofanelegantsimplicity，wasupholsteredwithmaterialsasthickaswalls，withasoftinvitingsurface.

"Thedyingwomancontinued：

"’Youarethefirsttohearmyhorriblestory.Iwilltrytohavestrength，enoughtofinishit.Youmustknowall，inorderthatyou，whomIknowtobeakind—heartedmanaswellasamanoftheworld，mayhaveasinceredesiretoaidmewithallyourpower.

"’Listentome：

"’Beforemymarriage，Ilovedayoungman，whosesuitwasrejectedbymyfamilybecausehewasnotrichenough.Notlongafterward，Imarriedamanofgreatwealth.Imarriedhimthroughignorance，throughobedience，throughindifference，asyounggirlsdomarry.

"’Ihadachild，aboy.Myhusbanddiedinthecourseofafewyears.

"’HewhomIhadlovedhadmarried，inhisturn.WhenhesawthatIwasawidow，hewascrushedbygriefatknowinghewasnotfree.Hecametoseeme;heweptandsobbedsobitterly，thatitwasenoughtobreakmyheart.Hecametoseemeatfirstasafriend.PerhapsIoughtnottohavereceivedhim.WhatcouldIdo？Iwasalone，sosad，sosolitary，sohopeless！AndIlovedhimstill.Whatsufferingswewomenhavesometimestoendure！

"’Ihadonlyhimintheworld，myparentsbeingdead.Hecamefrequently;hespentwholeeveningswithme.Ishouldnothavelethimcomesooften，seeingthathewasmarried.ButIhadnotenoughwill—

powertopreventhimfromcoming.

"’HowcanItellit？——hebecamemylover.Howdidthiscomeabout？CanIexplainit？Cananyoneexplainsuchthings？Doyouthinkitcouldbeotherwisewhentwohumanbeingsaredrawntoeachotherbytheirresistibleforceofmutualaffection？Doyoubelieve，monsieur，thatitisalwaysinourpowertoresist，thatwecankeepupthestruggleforever，andrefusetoyieldtotheprayers，thesupplications，thetears，thefrenziedwords，theappealsonbendedknees，thetransportsofpassion，withwhichwearepursuedbythemanweadore，whomwewanttogratifyeveninhisslightestwishes，whomwedesiretocrownwitheverypossiblehappiness，andwhom，ifwearetobeguidedbyaworldlycodeofhonor，wemustdrivetodespair？Whatstrengthwoulditnotrequire？

Whatarenunciationofhappiness？whatself—denial？andevenwhatvirtuousselfishness？

"’Inshort，monsieur，Iwashismistress;andIwashappy.Ibecame——andthiswasmygreatestweaknessandmygreatestpieceofcowardice—Ibecamehiswife’sfriend.

"’Webroughtupmysontogether;wemadeamanofhim，athoroughman，intelligent，fullofsenseandresolution，oflargeandgenerousideas.

Theboyreachedtheageofseventeen.

"’He，theyoungman，wasfondofmy——mylover，almostasfondofhimasI

wasmyself，forhehadbeenequallycherishedandcaredforbybothofus.Heusedtocallhimhis’dearfriend，’andrespectedhimimmensely，havingneverreceivedfromhimanythingbutwisecounselsandanexampleofintegrity，honor，andprobity.Helookeduponhimasanoldloyalanddevotedcomradeofhismother，asasortofmoralfather，guardian，protector——howamItodescribeit？

"’Perhapsthereasonwhyheneveraskedanyquestionswasthathehadbeenaccustomedfromhisearliestyearstoseethismaninmyhouse，atmyside，andathisside，alwaysconcernedaboutusboth.

"’Oneeveningthethreeofusweretodinetogether——thiswasmychiefamusement——andIwaitedforthetwomen，askingmyselfwhichofthemwouldbethefirsttoarrive.Thedooropened;itwasmyoldfriend.

Iwenttowardhim，withoutstretchedarms;andhepressedmylipsinalong，deliciouskiss.

"’Allofasudden，aslightsound，afaintrustling，thatmysterioussensationwhichindicatesthepresenceofanotherperson，madeusstartandturnroundabruptly.Jean，myson，stoodthere，livid，staringatus.

"’Therewasamomentofatrociousconfusion.Idrewback，holdingoutmyhandtowardmysonasifinsupplication;butIcouldnotseehim.Hehadgone.

"’Weremainedfacingeachother——myloverandI——crushed，unabletoutteraword.Isankintoanarmchair，andIfeltadesire，avague，powerfuldesire，toflee，togooutintothenight，andtodisappearforever.

Thenconvulsivesobsroseinmythroat，andIwept，shakenwithspasms，myheartbreaking，allmynerveswrithingwiththehorriblesensationofanirreparable，misfortune，andwiththatdreadfulsenseofshamewhich，insuchmomentsasthis，fillsamother’sheart.

"’Helookedatmeinaterrifiedmanner，notventuringtoapproach，tospeaktome，ortotouchme，forfearoftheboy’sreturn.Atlasthesaid：

"’Iamgoingtofollowhim—totalktohim——toexplainmatterstohim.Inshort，Imustseehimandlethimknow————"

"’Andhehurriedaway.

"’Iwaited——waitedinadistractedframeofmind，tremblingattheleastsound，startingwithfearandwithsomeunutterablystrangeandintolerableemotionateveryslightcracklingofthefireinthegrate.

"’Iwaitedanhour，twohours，feelingmyheartswellwithadreadIhadneverbeforeexperienced，suchanguishthatIwouldnotwishthegreatestcriminaltoenduretenminutesofsuchmisery.Wherewasmyson？Whatwashedoing？

"’Aboutmidnight，amessengerbroughtmeanotefrommylover.Istillknowitscontentsbyheart：

"’Hasyoursonreturned？Ididnotfindhim.Iamdownhere.Idonotwanttogoupatthishour."

"’Iwroteinpencilonthesameslipofpaper：

"’Jeanhasnotreturned.Youmustfindhim."

"’AndI’remainedallnightinthearmchair，waitingforhim.

"’IfeltasifIweregoingmad.Ilongedtorunwildlyabout，torollontheground.AndyetIdidnotevenstir，butkeptwaitinghourafterhour.Whatwasgoingtohappen？Itriedtoimagine，toguess.ButI

couldformnoconception，inspiteofmyefforts，inspiteofthetorturesofmysoul！

"’AndnowIfearedthattheymightmeet.Whatwouldtheydointhatcase？Whatwouldmysondo？Mymindwastornwithfearfuldoubts，withterriblesuppositions.

"’Youcanunderstandmyfeelings，canyounot，monsieur？

"’Mychambermaid，whoknewnothing，whounderstoodnothing，cameintotheroomeverymoment，believing，naturally，thatIhadlostmyreason.I

sentherawaywithawordoramovementofthehand.Shewentforthedoctor，whofoundmeinthethroesofanervousattack.

"’Iwasputtobed.Ihadbrainfever.

"’WhenIregainedconsciousness，afteralongillness，Isawbesidemybedmy——lover——alone.

"’Iexclaimed：

"’Myson？Whereismyson？

"’Hemadenoreply.Istammered：

"’Dead—dead.Hashecommittedsuicide？

"’No，no，Iswearit.Butwehavenotfoundhiminspiteofallmyefforts.

"’Then，becomingsuddenlyexasperatedandevenindignant——forwomenaresubjecttosuchoutburstsofunaccountableandunreasoninganger——Isaid：

"’Iforbidyoutocomenearmeortoseemeagainunlessyoufindhim.

Goaway！

"Hedidgoaway.

"’Ihaveneverseenoneortheotherofthemsince，monsieur，andthusI

havelivedforthelasttwentyyears.

"’Canyouimaginewhatallthismeanttome？Canyouunderstandthismonstrouspunishment，thisslow，perpetuallacerationofamother’sheart，thisabominable，endlesswaiting？Endless，didIsay？No;itisabouttoend，forIamdying.Iamdyingwithouteveragainseeingeitherofthem——eitheroneortheother！

"’He——themanIloved——haswrittentomeeverydayforthelasttwentyyears;andI——Ihaveneverconsentedtoseehim，evenforonesecond;forIhadastrangefeelingthat，ifheweretocomebackhere，mysonwouldmakehisappearanceatthesamemoment.Oh！myson！myson！Ishedead？

Isheliving？Whereishehiding？Overthere，perhaps，beyondthegreatocean，insomecountrysofarawaythatevenitsverynameisunknowntome！Doesheeverthinkofme？Ah！ifheonlyknew！Howcruelone’schildrenare！Didheunderstandtowhatfrightfulsufferinghecondemnedme，intowhatdepthsofdespair，intowhattortures，hecastmewhileI

wasstillintheprimeoflife，leavingmetosufferuntilthismoment，whenIamabouttodie——me，hismother，wholovedhimwithalltheintensityofamother’slove？Oh！isn’titcruel，cruel？

"’Youwilltellhimallthis，monsieur——willyounot？Youwillrepeattohimmylastwords：

"’Mychild，mydear，dearchild，belessharshtowardpoorwomen！Lifeisalreadybrutalandsavageenoughinitsdealingswiththem.Mydearson，thinkofwhattheexistenceofyourpoormotherhasbeeneversincethedayyoulefther.Mydearchild，forgiveher，andloveher，nowthatsheisdead，forshehashadtoendurethemostfrightfulpenanceeverinflictedonawoman."

"Shegaspedforbreath，trembling，asifshehadaddressedthelastwordstohersonandasifhestoodbyherbedside.

"Thensheadded：

"’Youwilltellhimalso，monsieur，thatIneveragainsaw—theother.’

"Oncemoresheceasedspeaking，then，inabrokenvoice，shesaid：

"’Leavemenow，Ibegofyou.Iwanttodieallalone，sincetheyarenotwithme.’"

MaitreLeBrumentadded：

"AndIleftthehouse，monsieurs，cryinglikeafool，sobitterly，indeed，thatmycoachmanturnedroundtostareatme.

"Andtothinkthat，everyday，dramaslikethisarebeingenactedallaroundus！

"Ihavenotfoundtheson——thatson——well，saywhatyoulikeabouthim，butIcallhimthatcriminalson！"

THEHAND

AllwerecrowdingaroundM.Bermutier，thejudge，whowasgivinghisopinionabouttheSaint—Cloudmystery.ForamonththisinexplicablecrimehadbeenthetalkofParis.Nobodycouldmakeheadortailofit.

M.Bermutier，standingwithhisbacktothefireplace，wastalking，citingtheevidence，discussingthevarioustheories，butarrivingatnoconclusion.

Somewomenhadrisen，inordertogetnearertohim，andwerestandingwiththeireyesfastenedontheclean—shavenfaceofthejudge，whowassayingsuchweightythings.They，wereshakingandtrembling，movedbyfearandcuriosity，andbytheeagerandinsatiabledesireforthehorrible，whichhauntsthesoulofeverywoman.Oneofthem，palerthantheothers，saidduringapause：

"It’sterrible.Itvergesonthesupernatural.Thetruthwillneverbeknown."

Thejudgeturnedtoher：

"True，madame，itislikelythattheactualfactswillneverbediscovered.Asfortheword’supernatural’whichyouhavejustused，ithasnothingtodowiththematter.Weareinthepresenceofaverycleverlyconceivedandexecutedcrime，sowellenshroudedinmysterythatwecannotdisentangleitfromtheinvolvedcircumstanceswhichsurroundit.ButonceIhadtotakechargeofanaffairinwhichtheuncannyseemedtoplayapart.Infact，thecasebecamesoconfusedthatithadtobegivenup."

Severalwomenexclaimedatonce：

"Oh！Tellusaboutit！"

M.Bermutiersmiledinadignifiedmanner，asajudgeshould，andwenton：

"Donotthink，however，thatI，foroneminute，ascribedanythinginthecasetosupernaturalinfluences.Ibelieveonlyinnormalcauses.Butif，insteadofusingtheword’supernatural’toexpresswhatwedonotunderstand，weweresimplytomakeuseoftheword’inexplicable，’itwouldbemuchbetter.Atanyrate，intheaffairofwhichIamabouttotellyou，itisespeciallythesurrounding，preliminarycircumstanceswhichimpressedme.Herearethefacts：

"Iwas，atthattime，ajudgeatAjaccio，alittlewhitecityontheedgeofabaywhichissurroundedbyhighmountains.

"Themajorityofthecaseswhichcameupbeforemeconcernedvendettas.

Therearesomethataresuperb，dramatic，ferocious，heroic.Wefindtherethemostbeautifulcausesforrevengeofwhichonecoulddream，enmitieshundredsofyearsold，quietedforatimebutneverextinguished;abominablestratagems，murdersbecomingmassacresandalmostdeedsofglory.FortwoyearsIheardofnothingbutthepriceofblood，ofthisterribleCorsicanprejudicewhichcompelsrevengeforinsultsmetedouttotheoffendingpersonandallhisdescendantsandrelatives.Ihadseenoldmen，children，cousinsmurdered;myheadwasfullofthesestories.

"OnedayIlearnedthatanEnglishmanhadjusthiredalittlevillaattheendofthebayforseveralyears.HehadbroughtwithhimaFrenchservant，whomhehadengagedonthewayatMarseilles.

"Soonthispeculiarperson，livingalone，onlygoingouttohuntandfish，arousedawidespreadinterest.Heneverspoketoanyone，neverwenttothetown，andeverymorninghewouldpracticeforanhourorsowithhisrevolverandrifle.

"Legendswerebuiltuparoundhim.Itwassaidthathewassomehighpersonage，fleeingfromhisfatherlandforpoliticalreasons;thenitwasaffirmedthathewasinhidingafterhavingcommittedsomeabominablecrime.Someparticularlyhorriblecircumstanceswereevenmentioned.

"InmyjudicialpositionIthoughtitnecessarytogetsomeinformationaboutthisman，butitwasimpossibletolearnanything.HecalledhimselfSirJohnRowell.

"IthereforehadtobesatisfiedwithwatchinghimascloselyasIcould，butIcouldseenothingsuspiciousabouthisactions.

"However，asrumorsabouthimweregrowingandbecomingmorewidespread，Idecidedtotrytoseethisstrangermyself，andIbegantohuntregularlyintheneighborhoodofhisgrounds.

"ForalongtimeIwatchedwithoutfindinganopportunity.AtlastitcametomeintheshapeofapartridgewhichIshotandkilledrightinfrontoftheEnglishman.Mydogfetcheditforme，but，takingthebird，IwentatoncetoSirJohnRowelland，begginghispardon，askedhimtoacceptit.

"Hewasabigman，withredhairandbeard，verytall，verybroad，akindofcalmandpoliteHercules.Hehadnothingoftheso—calledBritishstiffness，andinabroadEnglishaccenthethankedmewarmlyformyattention.Attheendofamonthwehadhadfiveorsixconversations.

"Onenight，atlast，asIwaspassingbeforehisdoor，Isawhiminthegarden，seatedastrideachair，smokinghispipe.Ibowedandheinvitedmetocomeinandhaveaglassofbeer.Ineedednourging.

"HereceivedmewiththemostpunctiliousEnglishcourtesy，sangthepraisesofFranceandofCorsica，anddeclaredthathewasquiteinlovewiththiscountry.

"Then，withgreatcautionandundertheguiseofavividinterest，I

askedhimafewquestionsabouthislifeandhisplans.Heansweredwithoutembarrassment，tellingmethathehadtravelledagreatdealinAfrica，intheIndies，inAmerica.Headded，laughing：

"’Ihavehadmanyadventures.’

"ThenIturnedtheconversationonhunting，andhegavemethemostcuriousdetailsonhuntingthehippopotamus，thetiger，theelephantandeventhegorilla.

"Isaid：

"’Arealltheseanimalsdangerous？’

"Hesmiled：

"’Oh，no！Manistheworst.’

"Andhelaughedagoodbroadlaugh，thewholesomelaughofacontentedEnglishman.

"’Ihavealsofrequentlybeenman—hunting.’

"Thenhebegantotalkaboutweapons，andheinvitedmetocomeinandseedifferentmakesofguns.

"Hisparlorwasdrapedinblack，blacksilkembroideredingold.Bigyellowflowers，asbrilliantasfire，wereworkedonthedarkmaterial.

"Hesaid：

"’ItisaJapanesematerial.’

"Butinthemiddleofthewidestpanelastrangethingattractedmyattention.Ablackobjectstoodoutagainstasquareofredvelvet.I

wentuptoit;itwasahand，ahumanhand.Notthecleanwhitehandofaskeleton，butadriedblackhand，withyellownails，themusclesexposedandtracesofoldbloodonthebones，whichwerecutoffascleanasthoughithadbeenchoppedoffwithanaxe，nearthemiddleoftheforearm.

"Aroundthewrist，anenormousironchain，rivetedandsolderedtothisuncleanmember，fastenedittothewallbyaring，strongenoughtoholdanelephantinleash.

"Iasked：

"’Whatisthat？’

"TheEnglishmanansweredquietly：

"’Thatismybestenemy.ItcomesfromAmerica，too.Theboneswereseveredbyaswordandtheskincutoffwithasharpstoneanddriedinthesunforaweek.’

"Itouchedthesehumanremains，whichmusthavebelongedtoagiant.Theuncommonlylongfingerswereattachedbyenormoustendonswhichstillhadpiecesofskinhangingtotheminplaces.Thishandwasterribletosee;

itmadeonethinkofsomesavagevengeance.

"Isaid：

"’Thismanmusthavebeenverystrong.’

"TheEnglishmanansweredquietly：

"’Yes，butIwasstrongerthanhe.Iputonthischaintoholdhim.’

"Ithoughtthathewasjoking.Isaid：

"’Thischainisuselessnow，thehandwon’trunaway.’

"SirJohnRowellansweredseriously：

"’Italwayswantstogoaway.Thischainisneeded.’

"Iglancedathimquickly，questioninghisface，andIaskedmyself：

"’Isheaninsanemanorapracticaljoker？’

"Buthisfaceremainedinscrutable，calmandfriendly.Iturnedtoothersubjects，andadmiredhisrifles.

"However，Inoticedthathekeptthreeloadedrevolversintheroom，asthoughconstantlyinfearofsomeattack.

"Ipaidhimseveralcalls.ThenIdidnotgoanymore.Peoplehadbecomeusedtohispresence;everybodyhadlostinterestinhim.

"Awholeyearrolledby.Onemorning，towardtheendofNovember，myservantawokemeandannouncedthatSirJohnRowellhadbeenmurderedduringthenight.

"HalfanhourlaterIenteredtheEnglishman’shouse，togetherwiththepolicecommissionerandthecaptainofthegendarmes.Theservant，bewilderedandindespair，wascryingbeforethedoor.AtfirstI

suspectedthisman，buthewasinnocent.

"Theguiltypartycouldneverbefound.

"OnenteringSirJohn’sparlor，Inoticedthebody，stretchedoutonitsback，inthemiddleoftheroom.

"Hisvestwastorn，thesleeveofhisjackethadbeenpulledoff，everythingpointedto，aviolentstruggle.

"TheEnglishmanhadbeenstrangled！Hisfacewasblack，swollenandfrightful，andseemedtoexpressaterriblefear.Heheldsomethingbetweenhisteeth，andhisneck，piercedbyfiveorsixholeswhichlookedasthoughtheyhadbeenmadebysomeironinstrument，wascoveredwithblood.

"Aphysicianjoinedus.Heexaminedthefingermarksontheneckforalongtimeandthenmadethisstrangeannouncement：

"’Itlooksasthoughhehadbeenstrangledbyaskeleton.’

"Acoldchillseemedtorundownmyback，andIlookedovertowhereI

hadformerlyseentheterriblehand.Itwasnolongerthere.Thechainwashangingdown，broken.

"Ibentoverthedeadmanand，inhiscontractedmouth，Ifoundoneofthefingersofthisvanishedhand，cut——orrathersawedoffbytheteethdowntothesecondknuckle.

"Thentheinvestigationbegan.Nothingcouldbediscovered.Nodoor，windoworpieceoffurniturehadbeenforced.Thetwowatchdogshadnotbeenarousedfromtheirsleep.

"Here，inafewwords，isthetestimonyoftheservant：

"Foramonthhismasterhadseemedexcited.Hehadreceivedmanyletters，whichhewouldimmediatelyburn.

"Often，inafitofpassionwhichapproachedmadness，hehadtakenaswitchandstruckwildlyatthisdriedhandrivetedtothewall，andwhichhaddisappeared，nooneknowshow，attheveryhourofthecrime.

"Hewouldgotobedverylateandcarefullylockhimselfin.Healwayskeptweaponswithinreach.Oftenatnighthewouldtalkloudly，asthoughhewerequarrellingwithsomeone.

"Thatnight，somehow，hehadmadenonoise，anditwasonlyongoingtoopenthewindowsthattheservanthadfoundSirJohnmurdered.Hesuspectednoone.

"IcommunicatedwhatIknewofthedeadmantothejudgesandpublicofficials.Throughoutthewholeislandaminuteinvestigationwascarriedon.Nothingcouldbefoundout.

"Onenight，aboutthreemonthsafterthecrime，Ihadaterriblenightmare.Iseemedtoseethehorriblehandrunningovermycurtainsandwallslikeanimmensescorpionorspider.ThreetimesIawoke，threetimesIwenttosleepagain;threetimesIsawthehideousobjectgallopingroundmyroomandmovingitsfingerslikelegs.

"Thefollowingdaythehandwasbroughtme，foundinthecemetery，onthegraveofSirJohnRowell，whohadbeenburiedtherebecausewehadbeenunabletofindhisfamily.Thefirstfingerwasmissing.

"Ladies，thereismystory.Iknownothingmore."

Thewomen，deeplystirred，werepaleandtrembling.Oneofthemexclaimed：

"Butthatisneitheraclimaxnoranexplanation！Wewillbeunabletosleepunlessyougiveusyouropinionofwhathadoccurred."

Thejudgesmiledseverely：

"Oh！Ladies，Ishallcertainlyspoilyourterribledreams.Isimplybelievethatthelegitimateownerofthehandwasnotdead，thathecametogetitwithhisremainingone.ButIdon’tknowhow.Itwasakindofvendetta."

Oneofthewomenmurmured：

"No，itcan’tbethat."

Andthejudge，stillsmiling，said：

"Didn’tItellyouthatmyexplanationwouldnotsatisfyyou？"

ATRESSOFHAIR

Thewallsofthecellwerebareandwhitewashed.Anarrowgratedwindow，placedsohighthatonecouldnotreachit，lightedthissinisterlittleroom.Themadinmate，seatedonastrawchair，lookedatuswithafixed，vacantandhauntedexpression.Hewasverythin，withhollowcheeksandhairalmostwhite，whichoneguessedmighthaveturnedgrayinafewmonths.Hisclothesappearedtobetoolargeforhisshrunkenlimbs，hissunkenchestandemptypaunch.Onefeltthatthisman’smindwasdestroyed，eatenbyhisthoughts，byonethought，justasafruitiseatenbyaworm.Hiscraze，hisideawasthereinhisbrain，insistent，harassing，destructive.Itwastedhisframelittlebylittle.It——theinvisible，impalpable，intangible，immaterialidea——wasmininghishealth，drinkinghisblood，snuffingouthislife.

Whatamysterywasthisman，beingkilledbyanideal！Hearousedsorrow，fearandpity，thismadman.Whatstrange，tremendousanddeadlythoughtsdweltwithinthisforeheadwhichtheycreasedwithdeepwrinkleswhichwereneverstill？

"Hehasterribleattacksofrage，"saidthedoctortome."HisisoneofthemostpeculiarcasesIhaveeverseen.Hehasseizuresoferoticandmacaberesquemadness.Heisasortofnecrophile.Hehaskeptajournalinwhichhesetsforthhisdiseasewiththeutmostclearness.Inityoucan，asitwere，putyourfingeronit.Ifitwouldinterestyou，youmaygooverthisdocument."

Ifollowedthedoctorintohisoffice，wherehehandedmethiswretchedman’sdiary，saying："Readitandtellmewhatyouthinkofit."

Ireadasfollows：

"Untiltheageofthirty—twoIlivedpeacefully，withoutknowinglove.

Lifeappearedverysimple，verypleasantandveryeasy.Iwasrich.

IenjoyedsomanythingsthatIhadnopassionforanythinginparticular.Itwasgoodtobealive！Iawokehappyeverymorninganddidthosethingsthatpleasedmeduringthedayandwenttobedatnightcontented，intheexpectationofapeacefultomorrowandafuturewithoutanxiety.

"Ihadhadafewflirtationswithoutmyheartbeingtouchedbyanytruepassionorwoundedbyanyofthesensationsoftruelove.Itisgoodtolivelikethat.Itisbettertolove，butitisterrible.Andyetthosewholoveintheordinarywaymustexperienceardenthappiness，thoughlessthanminepossibly，forlovecametomeinaremarkablemanner.

"AsIwaswealthy，Iboughtallkindsofoldfurnitureandoldcuriosities，andIoftenthoughtoftheunknownhandsthathadtouchedtheseobjects，oftheeyesthathadadmiredthem，oftheheartsthathadlovedthem;foronedoeslovethings！Isometimesremainedhoursandhourslookingatalittlewatchofthelastcentury.Itwassotiny，soprettywithitsenamelandgoldchasing.Anditkepttimeasonthedaywhenawomanfirstboughtit，enrapturedatowningthisdaintytrinket.

Ithadnotceasedtovibrate，toliveitsmechanicallife，andithadkeptupitsregulartick—tocksincethelastcentury.Whohadfirstwornitonherbosomamidthewarmthofherclothing，theheartofthewatchbeatingbesidetheheartofthewoman？Whathandhadhelditinitswarmfingers，hadturneditoverandthenwipedtheenamelledshepherdsonthecasetoremove，theslightmoisturefromherfingers？Whateyeshadwatchedthehandsonitsornamentalfacefortheexpected，thebeloved，thesacredhour？

"HowIwishedIhadknownher，seenher，thewomanwhohadselectedthisexquisiteandrareobject！Sheisdead！Iampossessedwithalongingforwomenofformerdays.Ilove，fromafar，allthosewhohaveloved.

Thestoryofthosedeadandgonelovesfillsmyheartwithregrets.Oh，thebeauty，thesmiles，theyouthfulcaresses，thehopes！Shouldnotallthatbeeternal？

"HowIhaveweptwholenights—thinkingofthosepoorwomenofformerdays，sobeautiful，soloving，sosweet，whosearmswereextendedinanembrace，andwhonowaredead！Akissisimmortal！Itgoesfromlipstolips，fromcenturytocentury，fromagetoage.Menreceivethem，givethemanddie.

"Thepastattractsme，thepresentterrifiesmebecausethefuturemeansdeath.Iregretallthathasgoneby.Imournallwhohavelived;I

shouldliketochecktime，tostoptheclock.Buttimegoes，itgoes，itpasses，ittakesfrommeeachsecondalittleofmyselffortheannihilationofto—morrow.AndIshallneverliveagain.

"Farewell，yewomenofyesterday.Iloveyou！

"ButIamnottobepitied.Ifoundher，theoneIwaswaitingfor，andthroughherIenjoyedinestimablepleasure.

"IwassaunteringinParisonabright，sunnymorning，withahappyheartandahighstep，lookinginattheshopwindowswiththevagueinterestofanidler.AllatonceInoticedintheshopofadealerinantiquesapieceofItalianfurnitureoftheseventeenthcentury.Itwasveryhandsome，veryrare.IsetitdownasbeingtheworkofaVenetianartistnamedVitelli，whowascelebratedinhisday.

"Iwentonmyway.

"WhydidtheremembranceofthatpieceoffurniturehauntmewithsuchinsistencethatIretracedmysteps？Iagainstoppedbeforetheshop，inordertotakeanotherlookatit，andIfeltthatittemptedme.

"Whatasingularthingtemptationis！Onegazesatanobject，and，littlebylittle，itcharmsyou，itdisturbsyou，itfillsyourthoughtsasawoman’sfacemightdo.Theenchantmentofitpenetratesyourbeing，astrangeenchantmentofform，colorandappearanceofaninanimateobject.Andonelovesit，onedesiresit，onewishestohaveit.A

longingtoownittakespossessionofyou，gentlyatfirst，asthoughitweretimid，butgrowing，becomingintense，irresistible.

"Andthedealersseemtoguess，fromyourardentgaze，yoursecretandincreasinglonging.

"Iboughtthispieceoffurnitureandhaditsenthomeatonce.Iplaceditinmyroom.

"Oh，Iamsorryforthosewhodonotknowthehoneymoonofthecollectorwiththeantiquehehasjustpurchased.Onelooksatittenderlyandpassesone’shandoveritasifitwerehumanflesh;onecomesbacktoiteverymoment，oneisalwaysthinkingofit，whereveroregoes，whateveronedoes.Thedearrecollectionofitpursuesyouinthestreet，insociety，everywhere;andwhenyoureturnhomeatnight，beforetakingoffyourglovesoryourhat;yougoandlookatitwiththetendernessofalover.

"Truly，foreightdaysIworshippedthispieceoffurniture.Iopeneditsdoorsandpulledoutthedrawerseveryfewmoments.Ihandleditwithrapture，withalltheintensejoyofpossession.

"ButoneeveningIsurmised，whileIwasfeelingthethicknessofoneofthepanels，thattheremustbeasecretdrawerinit：Myheartbegantobeat，andIspentthenighttryingtodiscoverthissecretcavity.

"Isucceededonthefollowingdaybydrivingaknifeintoaslitinthewood.ApanelslidbackandIsaw，spreadoutonapieceofblackvelvet，amagnificenttressofhair.

"Yes，awoman’shair，animmensecoiloffairhair，almostred，whichmusthavebeencutoffclosetothehead，tiedwithagoldencord.

"Istoodamazed，trembling，confused.Analmostimperceptibleperfume，soancientthatitseemedtobethespiritofaperfume，issuedfromthismysteriousdrawerandthisremarkablerelic.

"Ilifteditgently，almostreverently，andtookitoutofitshidingplace.Itatonceunwoundinagoldenshowerthatreachedtothefloor，densebutlight;softandgleaminglikethetailofacomet.

"Astrangeemotionfilledme.Whatwasthis？When，how，whyhadthishairbeenshutupinthisdrawer？Whatadventure，whattragedydidthissouvenirconceal？Whohadcutitoff？Aloveronadayoffarewell，ahusbandonadayofrevenge，ortheonewhoseheadithadgracedonthedayofdespair？

"Wasitasshewasabouttotaketheveilthattheyhadcastthitherthatlovedowryasapledgetotheworldoftheliving？Wasitwhentheyweregoingtonaildownthecoffinofthebeautifulyoungcorpsethattheonewhohadadoredherhadcutoffhertresses，theonlythingthathecouldretainofher，theonlylivingpartofherbodythatwouldnotsufferdecay，theonlythinghecouldstilllove，andcaress，andkissinhisparoxysmsofgrief？

"Wasitnotstrangethatthistressshouldhaveremainedasitwasinlife，whennotanatomofthebodyonwhichitgrewwasinexistence？

"Itfellovermyfingers，tickledtheskinwithasingularcaress，thecaressofadeadwoman.ItaffectedmesothatIfeltasthoughIshouldweep.

"Ihelditinmyhandsforalongtime，thenitseemedasifitdisturbedme，asthoughsomethingofthesoulhadremainedinit.AndIputitbackonthevelvet，rustyfromage，andpushedinthedrawer，closedthedoorsoftheantiquecabinetandwentoutforawalktomeditate.

"Iwalkedalong，filledwithsadnessandalsowithunrest，thatunrestthatonefeelswheninlove.IfeltasthoughImusthavelivedbefore，asthoughImusthaveknownthiswoman.

"AndVillon’slinescametomymindlikeasob：

Tellmewhere，andinwhatplaceIsFlora，thebeautifulRoman，HipparchiaandThaisWhowashercousin—german？

EchoanswersinthebreezeO’erriverandlakethatblows，Theirbeautywasaboveallpraise，Butwherearelastyear’ssnows？

Thequeen，whiteaslilies，Whosangassingthebirds，BerthaBroadfoot，Beatrice，Alice，Ermengarde，princessofMaine，AndJoan，thegoodLorraine，BurnedbytheEnglishatRouen，Wherearethey，VirginQueen？

Andwherearelastyear’ssnows？

"WhenIgothomeagainIfeltanirresistiblelongingtoseemysingulartreasure，andItookitoutand，asItouchedit，Ifeltashivergoallthroughme.

"Forsomedays，however，Iwasinmyordinarycondition，althoughthethoughtofthattressofhairwasalwayspresenttomymind.

"WheneverIcameintothehouseIhadtoseeitandtakeitinmy，hands.

Iturnedthekeyofthecabinetwiththesamehesitationthatoneopensthedoorleadingtoone’sbeloved，forinmyhandsandmyheartIfeltaconfused，singular，constantsensuallongingtoplungemyhandsintheenchantinggoldenfloodofthosedeadtresses.

"Then，afterIhadfinishedcaressingitandhadlockedthecabinetI

feltasifitwerealivingthing，shutupinthere，imprisoned;andI

longedtoseeitagain.Ifeltagaintheimperiousdesiretotakeitinmyhands，totouchit，toevenfeeluncomfortableatthecold，slippery，irritating，bewilderingcontact.

"Ilivedthusforamonthortwo，Iforgethowlong.Itobsessedme，hauntedme.Iwashappyandtormentedbyturns，aswhenonefallsinlove，andafterthefirstvowshavebeenexchanged.

"Ishutmyselfintheroomwithittofeelitonmyskin，toburymylipsinit，tokissit.Iwounditroundmyface，coveredmyeyeswiththegoldenfloodsoastoseethedaygleamthroughitsgold.

"Ilovedit！Yes，Ilovedit.Icouldnotbewithoutitnorpassanhourwithoutlookingatit.

"AndIwaited——Iwaited——forwhat？Idonotknow——Forher！

"OnenightIwokeupsuddenly，feelingasthoughIwerenotaloneinmyroom.

"Iwasalone，nevertheless，butIcouldnotgotosleepagain，and，asI

wastossingaboutfeverishly，Igotuptolookatthegoldentress.Itseemedsofterthanusual，morelife—like.Dothedeadcomeback？I

almostlostconsciousnessasIkissedit.Itookitbackwithmetobedandpressedittomylipsasifitweremysweetheart.

"Dothedeadcomeback？Shecameback.Yes，Isawher;Iheldherinmyarms，justasshewasinlife，tall，fairandround.Shecamebackeveryevening——thedeadwoman，thebeautiful，adorable，mysteriousunknown.

"MyhappinesswassogreatthatIcouldnotconcealit.Noloverevertastedsuchintense，terribleenjoyment.IlovedhersowellthatI

couldnotbeseparatedfromher.Itookherwithmealwaysandeverywhere.Iwalkedaboutthetownwithherasifsheweremywife，andtookhertothetheatre，alwaystoaprivatebox.Buttheysawher——theyguessed——theyarrestedme.Theyputmeinprisonlikeacriminal.Theytookher.Oh，misery！"

Herethemanuscriptstopped.AndasIsuddenlyraisedmyastonishedeyestothedoctoraterrificcry，ahowlofimpotentrageandofexasperatedlongingresoundedthroughtheasylum.

"Listen，"saidthedoctor."Wehavetodousetheobscenemadmanwithwaterfivetimesaday.SergeantBertrandwastheonlyonewhowasinlovewiththedead."

Filledwithastonishment，horrorandpity，Istammeredout：

"But——thattress——diditreallyexist？"

Thedoctorrose，openedacabinetfullofphialsandinstrumentsandtossedoveralongtressoffairhairwhichflewtowardmelikeagoldenbird.

Ishiveredatfeelingitssoft，lighttouchonmyhands.AndIsatthere，myheartbeatingwithdisgustanddesire，disgustasatthecontactofanythingaccessorytoacrimeanddesireasatthetemptationofsomeinfamousandmysteriousthing.

Thedoctorsaidasheshruggedhisshoulders：

"Themindofmaniscapableofanything."

ONTHERIVER

IrentedalittlecountryhouselastsummeronthebanksoftheSeine，severalleaguesfromParis，andwentouttheretosleepeveryevening.

AfterafewdaysImadetheacquaintanceofoneofmyneighbors，amanbetweenthirtyandforty，whocertainlywasthemostcuriousspecimenI

evermet.Hewasanoldboatingman，andcrazyaboutboating.Hewasalwaysbesidethewater，onthewater，orinthewater.Hemusthavebeenborninaboat，andhewillcertainlydieinaboatatthelast.

OneeveningaswewerewalkingalongthebanksoftheSeineIaskedhimtotellmesomestoriesabouthislifeonthewater.Thegoodmanatoncebecameanimated，hiswholeexpressionchanged，hebecameeloquent，almostpoetical.Therewasinhisheartonegreatpassion，anabsorbing，irresistiblepassion—theriver.

Ah，hesaidtome，howmanymemoriesIhave，connectedwiththatriverthatyouseeflowingbesideus！Youpeoplewholiveinstreetsknownothingabouttheriver.Butlistentoafishermanashementionstheword.Tohimitisamysteriousthing，profound，unknown，alandofmiragesandphantasmagoria，whereoneseesbynightthingsthatdonotexist，hearssoundsthatonedoesnotrecognize，trembleswithoutknowingwhy，asinpassingthroughacemetery——anditis，infact，themostsinisterofcemeteries，oneinwhichonehasnotomb.

Thelandseemslimitedtotheriverboatman，andondarknights，whenthereisnomoon，theriverseemslimitless.Asailorhasnotthesamefeelingforthesea.Itisoftenremorselessandcruel，itistrue;butitshrieks，itroars，itishonest，thegreatsea;whiletheriverissilentandperfidious.Itdoesnotspeak，itflowsalongwithoutasound;andthiseternalmotionofflowingwaterismoreterribletomethanthehighwavesoftheocean.

Dreamersmaintainthattheseahidesinitsbosomvasttractsofbluewherethosewhoaredrownedroamamongthebigfishes，amidstrangeforestsandcrystalgrottoes.Theriverhasonlyblackdepthswhereonerotsintheslime.Itisbeautiful，however，whenitsparklesinthelightoftherisingsunandgentlylapsitsbankscoveredwithwhisperingreeds.

Thepoetsays，speakingoftheocean，Owaves，whatmournfultragediesyeknow——

Deepwaves，thedreadofkneelingmothers’hearts！

YetellthemtoeachotherasyerollOnflowingtide，andthisitisthatgivesThesaddespairingtonesuntoyourvoiceAsonyerollatevebymountingtide."

Well，Ithinkthatthestorieswhisperedbytheslenderreeds，withtheirlittlesoftvoices，mustbemoresinisterthanthelugubrioustragediestoldbytheroaringofthewaves.

Butasyouhaveaskedforsomeofmyrecollections，Iwilltellyouofasingularadventurethathappenedtometenyearsago.

Iwasliving，asIamnow，inMotherLafon’shouse，andoneofmyclosestfriends，LouisBernetwhohasnowgivenupboating，hislowshoesandhisbareneck，togointotheSupremeCourt，waslivinginthevillageofC.，twoleaguesfurtherdowntheriver.Wedinedtogethereveryday，sometimesathishouse，sometimesatmine.

OneeveningasIwascominghomealongandwasprettytired，rowingwithdifficultymybigboat，atwelve—footer，whichIalwaystookoutatnight，Istoppedafewmomentstodrawbreathnearthereed—coveredpointyonder，abouttwohundredmetresfromtherailwaybridge.

Itwasamagnificentnight，themoonshonebrightly，therivergleamed，theairwascalmandsoft.Thispeacefulnesstemptedme.Ithoughttomyselfthatitwouldbepleasanttosmokeapipeinthisspot.Itookupmyanchorandcastitintotheriver.

Theboatfloateddownstreamwiththecurrent，totheendofthechain，andthenstopped，andIseatedmyselfinthesternonmysheepskinandmademyselfascomfortableaspossible.Therewasnotasoundtobeheard，exceptthatIoccasionallythoughtIcouldperceiveanalmostimperceptiblelappingofthewateragainstthebank，andInoticedtallergroupsofreedswhichassumedstrangeshapesandseemed，attimes，tomove.

Theriverwasperfectlycalm，butIfeltmyselfaffectedbytheunusualsilencethatsurroundedme.Allthecreatures，frogsandtoads，thosenocturnalsingersofthemarsh，weresilent.

Suddenlyafrogcroakedtomyright，andclosebesideme.Ishuddered.

Itceased，andIheardnothingmore，andresolvedtosmoke，tosoothemymind.But，althoughIwasanotedcolorerofpipes，Icouldnotsmoke;

attheseconddrawIwasnauseated，andgaveuptrying.Ibegantosing.

Thesoundofmyvoicewasdistressingtome.SoIlaystill，butpresentlytheslightmotionoftheboatdisturbedme.Itseemedtomeasifsheweremakinghugelurches，frombanktobankoftheriver，touchingeachbankalternately.ThenIfeltasthoughaninvisibleforce，orbeing，weredrawinghertothesurfaceofthewaterandliftingherout，toletherfallagain.Iwastossedaboutasinatempest.Iheardnoisesaroundme.Isprangtomyfeetwithasinglebound.Thewaterwasglistening，allwascalm.

Isawthatmynervesweresomewhatshaky，andIresolvedtoleavethespot.Ipulledtheanchorchain，theboatbegantomove;thenIfeltaresistance.Ipulledharder，theanchordidnotcomeup;ithadcaughtonsomethingatthebottomoftheriverandIcouldnotraiseit.I

beganpullingagain，butallinvain.Then，withmyoars，Iturnedtheboatwithitsheadupstreamtochangethepositionoftheanchor.Itwasnouse，itwasstillcaught.Iflewintoarageandshookthechainfuriously.Nothingbudged.Isatdown，disheartened，andbegantoreflectonmysituation.Icouldnotdreamofbreakingthischain，ordetachingitfromtheboat，foritwasmassiveandwasrivetedatthebowstoapieceofwoodasthickasmyarm.However，astheweatherwassofineIthoughtthatitprobablywouldnotbelongbeforesomefishermancametomyaid.Myill—luckhadquietedme.Isatdownandwasable，atlength，tosmokemypipe.Ihadabottleofrum;Idranktwoorthreeglasses，andwasabletolaughatthesituation.Itwasverywarm;sothat，ifneedbe，Icouldsleepoutunderthestarswithoutanygreatharm.

Allatoncetherewasalittleknockatthesideoftheboat.Igaveastart，andacoldsweatbrokeoutalloverme.Thenoisewas，doubtless，causedbysomepieceofwoodbornealongbythecurrent，butthatwasenough，andIagainbecameapreytoastrangenervousagitation.I

seizedthechainandtensedmymusclesinadesperateeffort.Theanchorheldfirm.Isatdownagain，exhausted.

Theriverhadslowlybecomeenvelopedinathickwhitefogwhichlayclosetothewater，sothatwhenIstoodupIcouldseeneithertheriver，normyfeet，normyboat;butcouldperceiveonlythetopsofthereeds，andfartheroffinthedistancetheplain，lyingwhiteinthemoonlight，withbigblackpatchesrisingupfromittowardsthesky，whichwereformedbygroupsofItalianpoplars.Iwasasifburiedtothewaistinacloudofcottonofsingularwhiteness，andallsortsofstrangefanciescameintomymind.IthoughtthatsomeonewastryingtoclimbintomyboatwhichIcouldnolongerdistinguish，andthattheriver，hiddenbythethickfog，wasfullofstrangecreatureswhichwereswimmingallaroundme.Ifelthorriblyuncomfortable，myforeheadfeltasifithadatightbandroundit，myheartbeatsothatitalmostsuffocatedme，and，almostbesidemyself，Ithoughtofswimmingawayfromtheplace.Butthen，again，theveryideamademetremblewithfear.I

sawmyself，lost，goingbyguessworkinthisheavyfog，strugglingaboutamidthegrassesandreedswhichIcouldnotescape，mybreathrattlingwithfear，neitherseeingthebank，norfindingmyboat;anditseemedasifIwouldfeelmyselfdraggeddownbythefeettothebottomoftheseblackwaters.

Infact，asIshouldhavehadtoascendthestreamatleastfivehundredmetresbeforefindingaspotfreefromgrassesandrusheswhereIcouldland，therewereninechancestoonethatIcouldnotfindmywayinthefogandthatIshoulddrown，nomatterhowwellIcouldswim.

Itriedtoreasonwithmyself.Mywillmademeresolvenottobeafraid，buttherewassomethinginmebesidesmywill，andthatotherthingwasafraid.Iaskedmyselfwhattherewastobeafraidof.Mybrave"ego"

ridiculedmycoward"ego，"andneverdidIrealize，asonthatday，theexistenceinusoftworivalpersonalities，onedesiringathing，theotherresisting，andeachwinningthedayinturn.

Thisstupid，inexplicablefearincreased，andbecameterror.Iremainedmotionless，myeyesstaring，myearsonthestretchwithexpectation.Ofwhat？Ididnotknow，butitmustbesomethingterrible.Ibelieveifithadoccurredtoafishtojumpoutofthewater，asoftenhappens，nothingmorewouldhavebeenrequiredtomakemefallover，stiffandunconscious.

However，byaviolenteffortIsucceededinbecomingalmostrationalagain.Itookupmybottleofrumandtookseveralpulls.Thenanideacametome，andIbegantoshoutwithallmymighttowardsallthepointsofthecompassinsuccession.WhenmythroatwasabsolutelyparalyzedI

listened.Adogwashowling，atagreatdistance.

Idranksomemorerumandstretchedmyselfoutatthebottomoftheboat.

Iremainedthereaboutanhour，perhapstwo，notsleeping，myeyeswideopen，withnightmaresallaboutme.Ididnotdaretorise，andyetI

intenselylongedtodoso.Idelayeditfrommomenttomoment.Isaidtomyself："Come，getup！"andIwasafraidtomove.AtlastIraisedmyselfwithinfinitecautionasthoughmylifedependedontheslightestsoundthatImightmake;andlookedovertheedgeoftheboat.

Iwasdazzledbythemostmarvellous，themostastonishingsightthatitispossibletosee.Itwasoneofthosephantasmagoriaoffairyland，oneofthosesightsdescribedbytravellersontheirreturnfromdistantlands，whomwelistentowithoutbelieving.

Thefogwhich，twohoursbefore，hadfloatedonthewater，hadgraduallyclearedoffandmassedonthebanks，leavingtheriverabsolutelyclear;

whileitformedoneitherbankanuninterruptedwallsixorsevenmetreshigh，whichshoneinthemoonlightwiththedazzlingbrillianceofsnow.

Onesawnothingbuttherivergleamingwithlightbetweenthesetwowhitemountains;andhighabovemyheadsailedthegreatfullmoon，inthemidstofabluish，milkysky.

Allthecreaturesinthewaterwereawake.Thefrogscroakedfuriously，whileeveryfewmomentsIheard，firsttotherightandthentotheleft，theabrupt，monotonousandmournfulmetallicnoteofthebullfrogs.

Strangetosay，Iwasnolongerafraid.Iwasinthemidstofsuchanunusuallandscapethatthemostremarkablethingswouldnothaveastonishedme.

HowlongthislastedIdonotknow，forIendedbyfallingasleep.WhenIopenedmyeyesthemoonhadgonedownandtheskywasfullofclouds.

Thewaterlappedmournfully，thewindwasblowing，itwaspitchdark.

Idranktherestoftherum，thenlistened，whileItrembled，totherustlingofthereedsandtheforebodingsoundoftheriver.Itriedtosee，butcouldnotdistinguishmyboat，norevenmyhands，whichIheldupclosetomyeyes.

Littlebylittle，however，theblacknessbecamelessintense.AllatonceIthoughtInoticedashadowglidingpast，quitenearme.I

shouted，avoicereplied;itwasafisherman.Icalledhim;hecamenearandItoldhimofmyill—luck.Herowedhisboatalongsideofmineand，together，wepulledattheanchorchain.Theanchordidnotmove.Daycame，gloomygray，rainyandcold，oneofthosedaysthatbringonesorrowsandmisfortunes.Isawanotherboat.Wehailedit.Themanonboardofherjoinedhiseffortstoours，andgraduallytheanchoryielded.Itrose，butslowly，slowly，loadeddownbyaconsiderableweight.Atlengthweperceivedablackmassandwedrewitonboard.

Itwasthecorpseofanoldwomenwithabigstoneroundherneck.

THECRIPPLE

Thefollowingadventurehappenedtomeabout1882.Ihadjusttakenthetrainandsettleddowninacorner，hopingthatIshouldbeleftalone，whenthedoorsuddenlyopenedagainandIheardavoicesay："Takecare，monsieur，wearejustatacrossing;thestepisveryhigh."

Anothervoiceanswered："That’sallright，Laurent，Ihaveafirmholdonthehandle."

Thenaheadappeared，andtwohandsseizedtheleatherstrapshangingoneithersideofthedoorandslowlypulledupanenormousbody，whosefeetstrikingonthestep，soundedliketwocanes.WhenthemanhadhoistedhistorsointothecompartmentInoticed，atthelooseedgeofhistrousers，theendofawoodenleg，whichwassoonfollowedbyitsmate.

Aheadappearedbehindthistravellerandasked;"Areyouallright，monsieur？"

"Yes，myboy."

"Thenhereareyourpackagesandcrutches."

Andaservant，wholookedlikeanoldsoldier，climbedin，carryinginhisarmsastackofbundleswrappedinblackandyellowpapersandcarefullytied;heplacedoneaftertheotherinthenetoverhismaster’shead.Thenhesaid："There，monsieur，thatisall.Therearefiveofthem——thecandy，thedollthedrum，thegun，andthepatedefoiesgras."

"Verywell，myboy."

"Thankyou，Laurent;goodhealth！"

Themanclosedthedoorandwalkedaway，andIlookedatmyneighbor.

Hewasaboutthirty—five，althoughhishairwasalmostwhite;heworetheribbonoftheLegionofHonor;hehadaheavymustacheandwasquitestout，withthestoutnessofastrongandactivemanwhoiskeptmotionlessonaccountofsomeinfirmity.Hewipedhisbrow，sighed，and，lookingmefullintheface，heasked："Doessmokingannoyyou，monsieur？"

"No，monsieur."

SurelyIknewthateye，thatvoice，thatface.ButwhenandwherehadI

seenthem？Ihadcertainlymetthatman，spokentohim，shakenhishand.

Thatwasalong，longtimeago.Itwaslostinthehazewhereinthemindseemstofeelaroundblindlyformemoriesandpursuesthemlikefleeingphantomswithoutbeingabletoseizethem.He，too，wasobservingme，staringmeoutofcountenance，withthepersistenceofamanwhoremembersslightlybutnotcompletely.Oureyes，embarrassedbythispersistentcontact，turnedaway;then，afterafewminutes，drawntogetheragainbytheobscureandtenaciouswillofworkingmemory，theymetoncemore，andIsaid："Monsieur，insteadofstaringateachotherforanhourorso，woulditnotbebettertotrytodiscoverwherewehaveknowneachother？"

Myneighboransweredgraciously："Youarequiteright，monsieur."

Inamedmyself："IamHenriBonclair，amagistrate."

Hehesitatedforafewminutes;then，withthevaguelookandvoicewhichaccompanygreatmentaltension，hesaid："Oh，Irememberperfectly.

Imetyoutwelveyearsago，beforethewar，atthePoincels！"

"Yes，monsieur.Ah！Ah！YouareLieutenantRevaliere？"

"Yes.IwasCaptainRevaliereevenuptothetimewhenIlostmyfeet——

bothofthemtogetherfromonecannonball."

Nowthatwekneweachother’sidentitywelookedateachotheragain.

Irememberedperfectlythehandsome，slenderyouthwholedthecotillonswithsuchfrenziedagilityandgracefulnessthathehadbeennicknamed"thefury."Goingbackintothedim，distantpast，IrecalledastorywhichIhadheardandforgotten，oneofthosestoriestowhichonelistensbutforgets，andwhichleavebutafaintimpressionuponthememory.

Therewassomethingaboutloveinit.Littlebylittletheshadowsclearedup，andthefaceofayounggirlappearedbeforemyeyes.Thenhernamestruckmewiththeforceofanexplosion：MademoiselledeMandel.Irememberedeverythingnow.Itwasindeedalovestory，butquitecommonplace.Theyounggirllovedthisyoungman，andwhenIhadmetthemtherewasalreadytalkoftheapproachingwedding.Theyouthseemedtobeverymuchinlove，veryhappy.

Iraisedmyeyetothenet，whereallthepackageswhichhadbeenbroughtinbytheservantweretremblingfromthemotionofthetrain，andthevoiceoftheservantcamebacktome，asifhehadjustfinishedspeaking.Hehadsaid："There，monsieur，thatisall.Therearefiveofthem：thecandy，thedoll，thedrum，thegun，andthepatedefoiesgras."

Then，inasecond，awholeromanceunfoldeditselfinmyhead.ItwaslikeallthosewhichIhadalreadyread，wheretheyoungladymarriednotwithstandingthecatastrophe，whetherphysicalorfinancial;

therefore，thisofficerwhohadbeenmaimedinthewarhadreturned，afterthecampaign，totheyounggirlwhohadgivenhimherpromise，andshehadkeptherword.

Iconsideredthatverybeautiful，butsimple，justasone，considerssimplealldevotionsandclimaxesinbooksorinplays.Italwaysseems，whenonereadsorlistenstothesestoriesofmagnanimity，thatonecouldsacrificeone’sselfwithenthusiasticpleasureandoverwhelmingjoy.

Butthefollowingday，whenanunfortunatefriendcomestoborrowsomemoney，thereisastrangerevulsionoffeeling.

But，suddenly，anothersupposition，lesspoeticandmorerealistic，replacedthefirstone.Perhapshehadmarriedbeforethewar，beforethisfrightfulaccident，andshe，indespairandresignation，hadbeenforcedtoreceive，carefor，cheer，andsupportthishusband，whohaddeparted，ahandsomeman，andhadreturnedwithouthisfeet，afrightfulwreck，forcedintoimmobility，powerlessanger，andfatalobesity.

Washehappyorintorture？Iwasseizedwithanirresistibledesiretoknowhisstory，or，atleast，theprincipalpoints，whichwouldpermitmetoguessthatwhichhecouldnotorwouldnottellme.Stillthinkingthematterover，Ibegantalkingtohim.Wehadexchangedafewcommonplacewords;andIraisedmyeyestothenet，andthought："Hemusthavethreechildren：thebonbonsareforhiswife，thedollforhislittlegirl，thedrumandthegunforhissons，andthispatedefoiesgrasforhimself."

SuddenlyIaskedhim："Areyouafather，monsieur？"

Heanswered："No，monsieur."

Isuddenlyfeltconfused，asifIhadbeenguiltyofsomebreachofetiquette，andIcontinued："Ibegyourpardon.IhadthoughtthatyouwerewhenIheardyourservantspeakingaboutthetoys.Onelistensanddrawsconclusionsunconsciously."

Hesmiledandthenmurmured："No，Iamnotevenmarried.Iamstillatthepreliminarystage."

Ipretendedsuddenlytoremember，andsaid：

"Oh！that’strue！WhenIknewyou，youwereengagedtoMademoiselledeMandel，Ibelieve."

"Yes，monsieur，yourmemoryisexcellent."

Igrewveryboldandadded："IalsoseemtorememberhearingthatMademoiselledeMandelmarriedMonsieur——Monsieur——"

Hecalmlymentionedthename："MonsieurdeFleurel."

"Yes，that’sit！IrememberitwasonthatoccasionthatIheardofyourwound."

Ilookedhimfullintheface，andheblushed.Hisfullface，whichwasalreadyredfromtheoversupplyofblood，turnedcrimson.Heansweredquickly，withasuddenardorofamanwhoispleadingacausewhichislostinhismindandinhisheart，butwhichhedoesnotwishtoadmit.

"Itiswrong，monsieur，tocouplemynamewiththatofMadamedeFleurel.

WhenIreturnedfromthewar—withoutmyfeet，alas！Ineverwouldhavepermittedhertobecomemywife.Wasitpossible？Whenonemarries，monsieur，itisnotinordertoparadeone’sgenerosity;itisinordertoliveeveryday，everyhour，everyminute，everysecondbesideaman;

andifthismanisdisfigured，asIam，itisadeathsentencetomarryhim！Oh，Iunderstand，Iadmireallsacrificesanddevotionswhentheyhavealimit，butIdonotadmitthatawomanshouldgiveupherwholelife，alljoy，allherdreams，inordertosatisfytheadmirationofthegallery.WhenIhear，onthefloorofmyroom，thetappingofmywoodenlegsandofmycrutches，Igrowangryenoughtostranglemyservant.DoyouthinkthatIwouldpermitawomantodowhatImyselfamunabletotolerate？And，then，doyouthinkthatmystumpsarepretty？"

Hewassilent.WhatcouldIsay？Hecertainlywasright.CouldIblameher，holdherincontempt，evensaythatshewaswrong？No.However，theendwhichconformedtotherule，tothetruth，didnotsatisfymypoeticappetite.Theseheroicdeedsdemandabeautifulsacrifice，whichseemedtobelacking，andIfeltacertaindisappointment.Isuddenly.

asked："HasMadamedeFleurelanychildren？"

"Yes，onegirlandtwoboys.ItisforthemthatIambringingthesetoys.Sheandherhusbandareverykindtome."

ThetrainwasgoinguptheinclinetoSaint—Germain.Itpassedthroughthetunnels，enteredthestation，andstopped.Iwasabouttooffermyarmtothewoundedofficer，inordertohelphimdescend，whentwohandswerestretcheduptohimthroughtheopendoor.

"Hello！mydearRevaliere！"

"Ah！Hello，Fleurel！"

Standingbehindtheman，thewoman，stillbeautiful，wassmilingandwavingherhandstohim.Alittlegirl，standingbesideher，wasjumpingforjoy，andtwoyoungboyswereeagerlywatchingthedrumandthegun，whichwerepassingfromthecarintotheirfather’shands.

Whenthecripplewasontheground，allthechildrenkissedhim.Thentheysetoff，thelittlegirlholdinginherhandthesmallvarnishedrungofacrutch，justasshemightwalkbesideherbigfriendandholdhisthumb.

ASTROLL

WhenOldManLeras，bookkeeperforMessieursLabuzeandCompany，leftthestore，hestoodforaminutebewilderedatthegloryofthesettingsun.

Hehadworkedalldayintheyellowlightofasmalljetofgas，farinthebackofthestore，onanarrowcourt，asdeepasawell.Thelittleroomwherehehadbeenspendinghisdaysforfortyyearswassodarkthateveninthemiddleofsummeronecouldhardlyseewithoutgaslightfromelevenuntilthree.

Itwasalwaysdampandcold，andfromthisholeonwhichhiswindowopenedcamethemustyodorofasewer.

ForfortyyearsMonsieurLerashadbeenarrivingeverymorninginthisprisonateighto’clock，andhewouldremainthereuntilsevenatnight，bendingoverhisbooks，writingwiththeindustryofagoodclerk.

Hewasnowmakingthreethousandfrancsayear，havingstartedatfifteenhundred.Hehadremainedabachelor，ashismeansdidnotallowhimtheluxuryofawife，andashehadneverenjoyedanything，hedesirednothing.Fromtimetotime，however，tiredofthiscontinuousandmonotonouswork，heformedaplatonicwish："Gad！IfIonlyhadanincomeoffifteenthousandfrancs，Iwouldtakelifeeasy."

Hehadnevertakenlifeeasy，ashehadneverhadanythingbuthismonthlysalary.Hislifehadbeenuneventful，withoutemotions，withouthopes.Thefacultyofdreamingwithwhicheveryoneisblessedhadneverdevelopedinthemediocrityofhisambitions.

Whenhewastwenty—oneheenteredtheemployofMessieursLabuzeandCompany.Andhehadneverleftthem.

In1856hehadlosthisfatherandthenhismotherin1859.Sincethentheonlyincidentinhislifewaswhenhemoved，in1868，becausehislandlordhadtriedtoraisehisrent.

Everydayhisalarmclock，withafrightfulnoiseofrattlingchains，madehimspringoutofbedat6o’clockprecisely.

Twice，however，thispieceofmechanismhadbeenoutoforder——oncein1866andagainin1874;hehadneverbeenabletofindoutthereasonwhy.Hewoulddress，makehisbed，sweephisroom，dusthischairandthetopofhisbureau.Allthistookhimanhourandahalf.

Thenhewouldgoout，buyarollattheLahureBakery，inwhichhehadseenelevendifferentownerswithoutthenameeverchanging，andhewouldeatthisrollonthewaytotheoffice.

Hisentireexistencehadbeenspentinthenarrow，darkoffice，whichwasstilldecoratedwiththesamewallpaper.Hehadenteredthereasayoungman，asassistanttoMonsieurBrument，andwiththedesiretoreplacehim.

Hehadtakenhisplaceandwishedfornothingmore.

Thewholeharvestofmemorieswhichothermenreapintheirspanofyears，theunexpectedevents，sweetortragicloves，adventurousjourneys，alltheoccurrencesofafreeexistence，allthesethingshadremainedunknowntohim.

Days，weeks，months，seasons，years，allwerealiketohim.Hegotupeverydayatthesamehour，startedout，arrivedattheoffice，ateluncheon，wentaway，haddinnerandwenttobedwithouteverinterruptingtheregularmonotonyofsimilaractions，deedsandthoughts.

Formerlyheusedtolookathisblondmustacheandwavyhairinthelittleroundmirrorleftbyhispredecessor.Now，everyeveningbeforeleaving，hewouldlookathiswhitemustacheandbaldheadinthesamemirror.Fortyyearshadrolledby，longandrapid，drearyasadayofsadnessandassimilarasthehoursofasleeplessnight.Fortyyearsofwhichnothingremained，notevenamemory，notevenamisfortune，sincethedeathofhisparents.Nothing.

ThatdayMonsieurLerasstoodbythedoor，dazzledatthebrilliancyofthesettingsun;andinsteadofreturninghomehedecidedtotakealittlestrollbeforedinner，athingwhichhappenedtohimfourorfivetimesayear.

Hereachedtheboulevards，wherepeoplewerestreamingalongunderthegreentrees.Itwasaspringevening，oneofthosefirstwarmandpleasanteveningswhichfilltheheartwiththejoyoflife.

MonsieurLeraswentalongwithhismincingoldman’sstep;hewasgoingalongwithjoyinhisheart，atpeacewiththeworld.HereachedtheChamps—Elysees，andhecontinuedtowalk，enlivenedbythesightoftheyoungpeopletrottingalong.

Thewholeskywasaflame;theArcdeTriomphestoodoutagainstthebrilliantbackgroundofthehorizon，likeagiantsurroundedbyfire.Asheapproachedtheimmensemonument，theoldbookkeepernoticedthathewashungry，andhewentintoawinedealer’sfordinner.

Themealwasservedinfrontofthestore，onthesidewalk.Itconsistedofsomemutton，saladandasparagus.ItwasthebestdinnerthatMonsieurLerashadhadinalongtime.Hewasheddownhischeesewithasmallbottleofburgundy，hadhisafter—dinnercupofcoffee，athingwhichherarelytook，andfinallyalittleponyofbrandy.

Whenhehadpaidhefeltquiteyouthful，evenalittlemoved.Andhesaidtohimself："Whatafineevening！IwillcontinuemystrollasfarastheentrancetotheBoisdeBoulogne.Itwilldomegood."

Hesetout.Anoldtunewhichoneofhisneighborsusedtosingkeptreturningtohismind.Hekeptonhummingitoverandoveragain.A

hot，stillnighthadfallenoverParis.MonsieurLeraswalkedalongtheAvenueduBoisdeBoulogneandwatchedthecabsdriveby.Theykeptcomingwiththeirshininglights，onebehindtheother，givinghornaglimpseofthecouplesinside，thewomenintheirlightdressesandthemendressedinblack.

Itwasonelongprocessionoflovers，ridingunderthewarm，starlitsky.

Theykeptoncominginrapidsuccession.Theypassedbyinthecarriages，silent，sidebyside，lostintheirdreams，intheemotionofdesire，intheanticipationoftheapproachingembrace.Thewarmshadowsseemedtobefulloffloatingkisses.Asensationoftendernessfilledtheair.Allthesecarriagesfulloftendercouples，allthesepeopleintoxicatedwiththesameidea，withthesamethought，seemedtogiveoutadisturbing，subtleemanation.

AtlastMonsieurLerasgrewalittletiredofwalking，andhesatdownonabenchtowatchthesecarriagespassbywiththeirburdensoflove.

Almostimmediatelyawomanwalkeduptohimandsatdownbesidehim.

"Good—evening，papa，"shesaid.

Heanswered："Madame，youaremistaken."

Sheslippedherarmthroughhis，saying："Comealong，now;don’tbefoolish.Listen————"

Hearoseandwalkedaway，withsadnessinhisheart.Afewyardsawayanotherwomanwalkeduptohimandasked："Won’tyousitdownbesideme？"

Hesaid："Whatmakesyoutakeupthislife？"

Shestoodbeforehimandinanaltered，hoarse，angryvoiceexclaimed：

"Well，itisn’tforthefunofit，anyhow！"

Heinsistedinagentlevoice："Thenwhatmakesyou？"

Shegrumbled："I’vegottolive！Foolishquestion！"Andshewalkedaway，humming.

MonsieurLerasstoodtherebewildered.Otherwomenwerepassingnearhim，speakingtohimandcallingtohim.Hefeltasthoughhewereenvelopedindarknessbysomethingdisagreeable.

Hesatdownagainonabench.Thecarriageswerestillrollingby.Hethought："Ishouldhavedonebetternottocomehere;Ifeelallupset."

Hebegantothinkofallthisvenalorpassionatelove，ofallthesekisses，soldorgiven，whichwerepassingbyitfrontofhim.Love！Hescarcelyknewit.Inhislifetimehehadonlyknowntwoorthreewomen，hismeansforcinghimtoliveaquietlife，andhelookedbackatthelifewhichhehadled，sodifferentfromeverybodyelse，sodreary，somournful，soempty.

Somepeoplearereallyunfortunate.Andsuddenly，asthoughaveilhadbeentornfromhiseyes，heperceivedtheinfinitemisery，themonotonyofhisexistence：thepast，presentandfuturemisery;hislastdaysimilartohisfirstone，withnothingbeforehim，behindhimorabouthim，nothinginhisheartoranyplace.

Thestreamofcarriageswasstillgoingby.Intherapidpassageoftheopencarriagehestillsawthetwosilent，lovingcreatures.Itseemedtohimthatthewholeofhumanitywasflowingonbeforehim，intoxicatedwithjoy，pleasureandhappiness.Healonewaslookingon.To—morrowhewouldagainbealone，alwaysalone，moresothananyoneelse.Hestoodup，tookafewsteps，andsuddenlyhefeltastiredasthoughhehadtakenalongjourneyonfoot，andhesatdownonthenextbench.

Whatwashewaitingfor？Whatwashehopingfor？Nothing.Hewasthinkingofhowpleasantitmustbeinoldagetoreturnhomeandfindthelittlechildren.Itispleasanttogrowoldwhenoneissurroundedbythosebeingswhoowetheirlifetoyou，wholoveyou，whocaressyou，whotellyoucharmingandfoolishlittlethingswhichwarmyourheartandconsoleyouforeverything.

And，thinkingofhisemptyroom，cleanandsad，wherenoonebuthimselfeverentered，afeelingofdistressfilledhissoul;andtheplaceseemedtohimmoremournfuleventhanhislittleoffice.Nobodyevercamethere;nooneeverspokeinit.Itwasdead，silent，withouttheechoofahumanvoice.Itseemsasthoughwallsretainsomethingofthepeoplewholivewithinthem，somethingoftheirmanner，faceandvoice.Theveryhousesinhabitedbyhappyfamiliesaregayerthanthedwellingsoftheunhappy.Hisroomwasasbarrenofmemoriesashislife.Andthethoughtofreturningtothisplace，allalone，ofgettingintohisbed，ofagainrepeatingallthedutiesandactionsofeveryevening，thisthoughtterrifiedhim.Asthoughtoescapefartherfromthissinisterhome，andfromthetimewhenhewouldhavetoreturntoit，hearoseandwalkedalongapathtoawoodedcorner，wherehesatdownonthegrass.

Abouthim，abovehim，everywhere，heheardacontinuous，tremendous，confusedrumble，composedofcountlessanddifferentnoises，avagueandthrobbingpulsationoflife：thelifebreathofParis，breathinglikeagiant.

ThesunwasalreadyhighandshedafloodoflightontheBoisdeBoulogne.Afewcarriageswerebeginningtodriveaboutandpeoplewereappearingonhorseback.

Acouplewaswalkingthroughadesertedalley.

Suddenlytheyoungwomanraisedhereyesandsawsomethingbrowninthebranches.Surprisedandanxious，sheraisedherhand，exclaiming："Look！

whatisthat？"

Thensheshriekedandfellintothearmsofhercompanion，whowasforcedtolayherontheground.

Thepolicemanwhohadbeencalledcutdownanoldmanwhohadhunghimselfwithhissuspenders.

Examinationshowedthathehaddiedtheeveningbefore.PapersfoundonhimshowedthathewasabookkeeperforMessieursLabuzeandCompanyandthathisnamewasLeras.

Hisdeathwasattributedtosuicide，thecauseofwhichcouldnotbesuspected.Perhapsasuddenaccessofmadness！

ALEXANDRE

Atfouro’clockthatday，asoneveryotherday，Alexandrerolledthethree—wheeledchairforcripplesuptothedoorofthelittlehouse;

then，inobediencetothedoctor’sorders，hewouldpushhisoldandinfirmmistressaboutuntilsixo’clock.

Whenhehadplacedthelightvehicleagainstthestep，justattheplacewheretheoldladycouldmosteasilyenterit，hewentintothehouse;

andsoonafurious，hoarseoldsoldier’svoicewasheardcursinginsidethehouse：itissuedfromthemaster，theretiredex—captainofinfantry，JosephMaramballe.

Thencouldbeheardthenoiseofdoorsbeingslammed，chairsbeingpushedabout，andhastyfootsteps;thennothingmore.Afterafewseconds，Alexandrereappearedonthethreshold，supportingwithallhisstrengthMadameMaramballe，whowasexhaustedfromtheexertionofdescendingthestairs.Whenshewasatlastsettledintherollingchair，Alexandrepassedbehindit，graspedthehandle，andsetouttowardtheriver.

Thustheycrossedthelittletowneverydayamidtherespectfulgreeting，ofall.Thesebowswereperhapsmeantasmuchfortheservantasforthemistress，forifshewaslovedandesteemedbyall，thisoldtrooper，withhislong，white，patriarchalbeard，wasconsideredamodeldomestic.

TheJulysunwasbeatingdownunmercifullyonthestreet，bathingthelowhousesinitscrudeandburninglight.Dogsweresleepingonthesidewalkintheshadeofthehouses，andAlexandre，alittleoutofbreath，hastenedhisfootstepsinordersoonertoarriveattheavenuewhichleadstothewater.

MadameMaramballewasalreadyslumberingunderherwhiteparasol，thepointofwhichsometimesgrazedalongtheman’simpassiveface.AssoonastheyhadreachedtheAlleedesTilleuls，sheawokeintheshadeofthetrees，andshesaidinakindlyvoice："Gomoreslowly，mypoorboy;youwillkillyourselfinthisheat."

Alongthispath，completelycoveredbyarchedlindentrees，theMavettekflowedinitswindingbedborderedbywillows.

Thegurglingoftheeddiesandthesplashingofthelittlewavesagainsttherockslenttothewalkthecharmingmusicofbabblingwaterandthefreshnessofdampair.MadameMaramballeinhaledwithdeepdelightthehumidcharmofthisspotandthenmurmured："Ah！Ifeelbetternow！Buthewasn’tinagoodhumorto—day."

Alexandreanswered："No，madame."

Forthirty—fiveyearshehadbeenintheserviceofthiscouple，firstasofficer’sorderly，thenassimplevaletwhodidnotwishtoleavehismasters;andforthelastsixyears，everyafternoon，hehadbeenwheelinghismistressaboutthroughthenarrowstreetsofthetown.Fromthislonganddevotedservice，andthenfromthisdailytete—a—tete，akindoffamiliarityarosebetweentheoldladyandthedevotedservant，affectionateonherpart，deferentialonhis.

Theytalkedovertheaffairsofthehouseexactlyasiftheywereequals.

Theirprincipalsubjectofconversationandofworrywasthebaddispositionofthecaptain，souredbyalongcareerwhichhadbegunwithpromise，runalongwithoutpromotion，endendedwithoutglory.

MadameMaramballecontinued："Hecertainlywasnotinagoodhumortoday.

Thishappenstoooftensincehehaslefttheservice."

AndAlexandre，withasigh，completedhismistress’sthoughts，"Oh，madamemightsaythatithappenseverydayandthatitalsohappenedbeforeleavingthearmy."

"Thatistrue.Butthepoormanhasbeensounfortunate.Hebeganwithabravedeed，whichobtainedforhimtheLegionofHonorattheageoftwenty;andthenfromtwentytofiftyhewasnotabletorisehigherthancaptain，whereasatthebeginningheexpectedtoretirewithatleasttherankofcolonel."

"Madamemightalsoadmitthatitwashisfault.Ifhehadnotalwaysbeenascuttingasawhip，hissuperiorswouldhavelovedandprotectedhimbetter.Harshnessisofnouse;oneshouldtrytopleaseifonewishestoadvance.Asfarashistreatmentofusisconcerned，itisalsoourfault，sincewearewillingtoremainwithhim，butwithothersit’sdifferent."

MadameMaramballewasthinking.Oh，forhowmanyyearshadshethusbeenthinkingofthebrutalityofherhusband，whomshehadmarriedlongagobecausehewasahandsomeofficer，decoratedquiteyoung，andfullofpromise，sotheysaid！Whatmistakesonemakesinlife！

Shemurmured："Letusstopawhile，mypoorAlexandre，andyourestonthatbench：

Itwasalittleworm—eatenbench，placedataturninthealley.EverytimetheycameinthisdirectionAlexandrewasaccustomedtomakingashortpauseonthisseat.

Hesatdownandwithaproudandfamiliargesturehetookhisbeautifulwhitebeardinhishand，and，closinghis，fingersoverit，ranthemdowntothepoint，whichheheldforaminuteatthepitofhisstomach，asifoncemoretoverifythelengthofthisgrowth.

MadameMaramballecontinued："Imarriedhim;itisonlyjustandnaturalthatIshouldbearhisinjustice;butwhatIdonotunderstandiswhyyoualsoshouldhavesupportedit，mygoodAlexandre！"

Hemerelyshruggedhisshouldersandanswered："Oh！I——madame."

Sheadded："Really.Ihaveoftenwondered.WhenImarriedhimyouwerehisorderlyandyoucouldhardlydootherwisethanendurehim.Butwhydidyouremainwithus，whopayyousolittleandwhotreatyousobadly，whenyoucouldhavedoneaseveryoneelsedoes，settledown，marry，haveafamily？"

Heanswered："Oh，madame！withmeit’sdifferent."

Thenhewassilent;buthekeptpullinghisbeardasifhewereringingabellwithinhim，asifheweretryingtopullitout，andherolledhiseyeslikeamanwhoisgreatlyembarrassed.

MadameMaramballewasfollowingherowntrainofthought："Youarenotapeasant.Youhaveaneducation——"

Heinterruptedherproudly："Istudiedsurveying，madame."

"Thenwhydidyoustaywithus，andblastyourprospects？"

Hestammered："That’sit！that’sit！it’sthefaultofmydispositton."

"Howso，ofyourdisposition？"

"Yes，whenIbecomeattachedtoapersonIbecomeattachedtohim，that’sall."

Shebegantolaugh："YouarenotgoingtotrytotellmethatMaramballe’ssweetdispositioncausedyoutobecomeattachedtohimforlife."

Hewasfidgetingaboutonhisbenchvisiblyembarrassed，andhemutteredbehindhislongbeard：

"Itwasnothe，itwasyou！"

Theoldlady，whohadasweetface，withasnowylineofcurlywhitehairbetweenherforeheadandherbonnet，turnedaroundinherchairandobservedherservantwithasurprisedlook，exclaiming："I，mypoorAlexandre！Howso？"

Hebegantolookupintheair，thentooneside，thentowardthedistance，turninghisheadasdotimidpeoplewhenforcedtoadmitshamefulsecrets.Atlastheexclaimed，withthecourageofatrooperwhoisorderedtothelineoffire："Yousee，it’sthisway——thefirsttimeIbroughtalettertomademoisellefromthelieutenant，mademoisellegavemeafrancandasmile，andthatsettledit."

Notunderstandingwell，shequestionedhim"Explainyourself."

Thenhecriedout，likeamalefactorwhoisadmittingafatalcrime：

"Ihadasentimentformadame！There！"

Sheanswerednothing，stoppedlookingathim，hungherhead，andthought.

Shewasgood，fullofjustice，gentleness，reason，andtenderness.Inasecondshesawtheimmensedevotionofthispoorcreature，whohadgivenupeverythinginordertolivebesideher，withoutsayinganything.Andshefeltasifshecouldcry.Then，withasadbutnotangryexpression，shesaid："Letusreturnhome."

Heroseandbegantopushthewheeledchair.

AstheyapproachedthevillagetheysawCaptainMaramballecomingtowardthem.Assoonashejoinedthemheaskedhiswife，withavisibledesireofgettingangry："Whathavewefordinner？"

"Somechickenwithflageolets."

Helosthistemper："Chicken！chicken！alwayschicken！Byallthat’sholy，I’vehadenoughchicken！Haveyounoideasinyourhead，thatyoumakemeeatchickeneveryday？"

Sheanswered，inaresignedtone："But，mydear，youknowthatthedoctorhasordereditforyou.It’sthebestthingforyourstomach.Ifyourstomachwerewell，IcouldgiveyoumanythingswhichIdonotdaresetbeforeyounow."

Then，exasperated，heplantedhimselfinfrontofAlexandre，exclaiming：

"Well，ifmystomachisoutoforderit’sthefaultofthatbrute.Forthirty—fiveyearshehasbeenpoisoningmewithhisabominablecooking."

MadameMaramballesuddenlyturnedaboutcompletely，inordertoseetheolddomestic.Theireyesmet，andinthissingleglancetheybothsaid"Thankyou！"toeachother.

THELOG

Thedrawing—roomwassmall，fullofheavydraperiesanddiscreetlyfragrant.Alargefireburnedinthegrateandasolitarylampatoneendofthemantelpiecethrewasoftlightonthetwopersonswhoweretalking.

She，themistressofthehouse，wasanoldladywithwhitehair，butoneofthoseoldladieswhoseunwrinkledskinisassmoothasthefinestpaper，andscented，impregnatedwithperfume，withthedelicateessenceswhichshehadusedinherbathforsomanyyears.

Hewasaveryoldfriend，whohadnevermarried，aconstantfriend，acompanioninthejourneyoflife，butnothingmore.

Theyhadnotspokenforaboutaminute，andwerebothlookingatthefire，dreamingofnomatterwhat，inoneofthosemomentsoffriendlysilencebetweenpeoplewhohavenoneedtobeconstantlytalkinginordertobehappytogether，whensuddenlyalargelog，astumpcoveredwithburningroots，fellout.Itfelloverthefiredogsintothedrawing—roomandrolledontothecarpet，scatteringgreatsparksaroundit.Theoldlady，withalittlescream，sprangtoherfeettorunaway，whilehekickedthelogbackontothehearthandstampedoutalltheburningsparkswithhisboots.

Whenthedisasterwasremedied，therewasastrongsmellofburning，and，sittingdownoppositetohisfriend，themanlookedatherwithasmileandsaid，ashepointedtothelog：

"ThatisthereasonwhyInevermarried."

Shelookedathiminastonishment，withtheinquisitivegazeofwomenwhowishtoknoweverything，thateyewhichwomenhavewhoarenolongerveryyoung，——inwhichacomplex，andoftenroguish，curiosityisreflected，andsheasked：

"Howso？"

"Oh，itisalongstory，"hereplied;"arathersadandunpleasantstory.

"MyoldfriendswereoftensurprisedatthecoldnesswhichsuddenlysprangupbetweenoneofmybestfriendswhoseChristiannamewasJulien，andmyself.Theycouldnotunderstandhowtwosuchintimateandinseparablefriends，aswehadbeen，couldsuddenlybecomealmoststrangerstooneanother，andIwilltellyouthereasonofit.

"HeandIusedtolivetogetheratonetime.Wewereneverapart，andthefriendshipthatunitedusseemedsostrongthatnothingcouldbreakit.

"Oneeveningwhenhecamehome，hetoldmethathewasgoingtogetmarried，anditgavemeashockasifhehadrobbedmeorbetrayedme.

Whenaman’sfriendmarries，itisalloverbetweenthem.Thejealousaffectionofawoman，thatsuspicious，uneasyandcarnalaffection，willnottoleratethesturdyandfrankattachment，thatattachmentofthemind，oftheheart，andthatmutualconfidencewhichexistsbetweentwomen.

"Yousee，howevergreatthelovemaybethatunitesthemamanandawomanarealwaysstrangersinmindandintellect;theyremainbelligerents，theybelongtodifferentraces.Theremustalwaysbeaconquerorandaconquered，amasterandaslave;nowtheone，nowtheother——theyarenevertwoequals.Theypresseachother’shands，thosehandstremblingwithamorouspassion;buttheyneverpressthemwithalong，strong，loyalpressure，withthatpressurewhichseemstoopenheartsandtolaythembareinaburstofsincere，strong，manlyaffection.Philosophersofold，insteadofmarrying，andprocreatingasaconsolationfortheiroldagechildren，whowouldabandonthem，soughtforagood，reliablefriend，andgrewoldwithhiminthatcommunionofthoughtwhichcanonlyexistbetweenmen.

"Well，myfriendJulienmarried.Hiswifewaspretty，charming，alittle，curly—hairedblonde，plumpandlively，whoseemedtoworshiphim.

AtfirstIwentbutrarelytotheirhouse，feelingmyselfdetrop.But，somehow，theyattractedmetotheirhome;theywereconstantlyinvitingme，andseemedveryfondofme.Consequently，bydegrees，Iallowedmyselftobealluredbythecharmoftheirlife.Ioftendinedwiththem，andfrequently，whenIreturnedhomeatnight，thoughtthatIwoulddoashehaddone，andgetmarried，asmyemptyhousenowseemedverydull.

"Theyappearedtobeverymuchinlove，andwereneverapart.

"Well，oneeveningJulienwroteandaskedmetogotodinner，andI

naturallywent.

"’Mydearfellow，’hesaid，’Imustgooutdirectlyafterwardonbusiness，andIshallnotbebackuntileleveno’clock;butIshallbebackatelevenprecisely，andIreckononyoutokeepBerthacompany.’

"Theyoungwomansmiled.

"’Itwasmyidea，’shesaid，’tosendforyou.’

"Iheldoutmyhandtoher.

"’Youareasniceasever，Isaid，andIfeltalong，friendlypressureofmyfingers，butIpaidnoattentiontoit;sowesatdowntodinner，andateighto’clockJulienwentout.

"Assoonashehadgone，akindofstrangeembarrassmentimmediatelyseemedtoarisebetweenhiswifeandme.Wehadneverbeenalonetogetheryet，andinspiteofourdailyincreasingintimacy，thistete—a—teteplacedusinanewposition.AtfirstIspokevaguelyofthoseindifferentmatterswithwhichonefillsupanembarrassingsilence，butshedidnotreply，andremainedoppositetomewithherheaddowninanundecidedmanner，asifshewerethinkingoversomedifficultsubject，andasIwasatalossforsmalltalk，Iheldmytongue.Itissurprisinghowharditisattimestofindanythingtosay.