第30章

"’Tisagreed."

"It’ssettled，then，fornextSunday？"

"It’ssettledfornextSunday"

"Well，good—morning，Victor."

"Good—morning，MadameHoulbreque."

PARTIII

ThisparticularSundaywasthedayofthevillagefestival，theannualfestivalinhonorofthepatronsaint，whichinNormandyiscalledtheassembly.

Forthelasteightdaysquaint—lookingvehiclesinwhichlivethefamiliesofstrollingfairexhibitors，lotterymanagers，keepersofshootinggalleriesandotherformsofamusementorexhibitorsofcuriositieswhomthepeasantscall"wonder—makers"couldbeseencomingalongtheroadsdrawnslowlybygrayorsorrelhorses.

Thedirtywagonswiththeirfloatingcurtains，accompaniedbyamelancholy—lookingdog，whotrotted，withhisheaddown，betweenthewheels，drewuponeaftertheotheronthegreeninfrontofthetownhall.Thenatentwaserectedinfrontofeachambulantabode，andinsidethistentcouldbeseen，throughtheholesinthecanvas，glitteringthingswhichexcitedtheenvyorthecuriosityofthevillageyoungsters.

Assoonasthemorningofthefetearrivedalltheboothswereopened，displayingtheirsplendorsofglassorporcelain，andthepeasantsontheirwaytomasslookedwithgenuinesatisfactionatthesemodestshopswhichtheysawagain，nevertheless，eachsucceedingyear.

Earlyintheafternoontherewasacrowdonthegreen.Fromeveryneighboringvillagethefarmersarrived，shakenalongwiththeirwivesandchildreninthetwo—wheeledopenchars—a—bancs，whichrattledalong，swayinglikecradles.Theyunharnessedattheirfriends’housesandthefarmyardswerefilledwithstrange—lookingtraps，gray，high，lean，crooked，likelong—clawedcreaturesfromthedepthsofthesea.Andeachfamily，withtheyoungstersinfrontandthegrown—uponesbehind，cametotheassemblywithtranquilsteps，smilingcountenancesandopenhands，bighands，redandbony，accustomedtoworkandapparentlytiredoftheirtemporaryrest.

Aclownwasblowingatrumpet.Thebarrel—organaccompanyingthecarrouselsentthroughtheairitsshrilljerkynotes.Thelottery—wheelmadeawhirringsoundlikethatofclothtearing，andeverymomentthecrackoftheriflecouldbeheard.Andtheslow—movingthrongpassedonquietlyinfrontoftheboothsresemblingpasteinafluidcondition，withthemotionsofaflockofsheepandtheawkwardnessofheavyanimalswhohadescapedbychance.

Thegirls，holdingoneanother’sarmsingroupsofsixoreight，weresinging;theyouthsfollowedthem，makingjokes，withtheircapsovertheirearsandtheirblousesstiffenedwithstarch，swollenoutlikeblueballoons.

Thewholecountrysidewasthere——masters，laboringmenandwomenservants.

OldAmablehimself，wearinghisold—fashionedgreenfrockcoat，hadwishedtoseetheassembly，forheneverfailedtoattendonsuchanoccasion.

Helookedatthelotteries，stoppedinfrontoftheshootinggalleriestocriticizetheshotsandinterestedhimselfspeciallyinaverysimplegamewhichconsistedinthrowingabigwoodenballintotheopenmouthofamannikincarvedandpaintedonaboard.

Suddenlyhefeltataponhisshoulder.ItwasDaddyMalivoire，whoexclaimed：

"Ha，daddy！Comeandhaveaglassofbrandy."

Andtheysatdownatthetableofanopen—airrestaurant.

Theydrankoneglassofbrandy，thentwo，thenthree，andoldAmableoncemorebeganwanderingthroughtheassembly.Histhoughtsbecameslightlyconfused，hesmiledwithoutknowingwhy，hesmiledinfrontofthelotteries，infrontofthewoodenhorsesandespeciallyinfrontofthekillinggame.Heremainedtherealongtime，filledwithdelight，whenhesawaholiday—makerknockingdownthegendarmeorthecure，twoauthoritieswhomheinstinctivelydistrusted.Thenhewentbacktotheinnanddrankaglassofcidertocoolhimself.Itwaslate，nightcameon.Aneighborcametowarnhim：

"You’llgetbackhomelateforthestew，daddy."

Thenhesetoutonhiswaytothefarmhouse.Asoftshadow，thewarmshadowofaspringnight，wasslowlydescendingontheearth.

Whenhereachedthefrontdoorhethoughthesawthroughthewindowwhichwaslighteduptwopersonsinthehouse.Hestopped，muchsurprised，thenhewentin，andhesawVictorLecoqseatedatthetable，withaplatefilledwithpotatoesbeforehim，takinghissupperintheverysameplacewherehissonhadsat.

Andheturnedroundsuddenlyasifhewantedtogoaway.Thenightwasverydarknow.Celestestartedupandshoutedathim：

"Comequick，daddy！Here’ssomegoodstewtofinishofftheassemblywith."

Hecompliedthroughinertiaandsatdown，watchinginturntheman，thewomanandthechild.Thenhebegantoeatquietlyasonordinarydays.

VictorLecoqseemedquiteathome，talkedfromtimetotimetoCeleste，tookupthechildinhislapandkissedhim.AndCelesteagainservedhimwithfood，pouredoutdrinkforhimandappearedhappywhilespeakingtohim.OldAmable’seyesfollowedthemattentively，thoughhecouldnothearwhattheyweresaying.

Whenhehadfinishedsupper（andhehadscarcelyeatenanything，therewassuchaweightathisheart）heroseup，andinsteadofascendingtohisloftashedideverynightheopenedthegateoftheyardandwentoutintotheopenair.

Whenhehadgone，Celeste，alittleuneasy，asked：

"Whatishegoingtodo？"

Victorrepliedinanindifferenttone：

"Don’tbotheryourself.He’llcomebackwhenhe’stired."

Thenshesawafterthehouse，washedtheplatesandwipedthetable，whilethemanquietlytookoffhisclothes.ThenheslippedintothedarkandhollowbedinwhichshehadsleptwithCesaire.

TheyardgateopenedandoldAmableagainappeared.Assoonasheenteredthehousehelookedroundoneverysidewiththeairofanolddogonthescent.HewasinsearchofVictorLecoq.Ashedidnotseehim，hetookthecandleoffthetableandapproachedthedarknicheinwhichhissonhaddied.Intheinteriorofitheperceivedthemanlyingunderthebedclothesandalreadyasleep.Thenthedeafmannoiselesslyturnedround，putbackthecandleandwentoutintotheyard.

Celestehadfinishedherwork.Sheputhersonintohisbed，arrangedeverythingandwaitedforherfather—in—law’sreturnbeforelyingdownherself.

Sheremainedsittingonachair，withoutmovingherhandsandwithhereyesfixedonvacancy.

Ashedidnotcomeback，shemurmuredinatoneofimpatienceandannoyance：

"Thisgood—for—nothingoldmanwillmakeusburnfoursous’worthofcandles."

Victoransweredfromunderthebedclothes：

"It’soveranhoursincehewentout.Weoughttoseewhetherhefellasleeponthebenchoutsidethedoor."

"I’llgoandsee，"shesaid.

Sheroseup，tookthelightandwentout，shadingthelightwithherhandinordertoseethroughthedarkness.

Shesawnothinginfrontofthedoor，nothingonthebench，nothingonthedungheap，wheretheoldmanusedsometimestositinhotweather.

But，justasshewasonthepointofgoinginagain，shechancedtoraisehereyestowardthebigappletree，whichshelteredtheentrancetothefarmyard，andsuddenlyshesawtwofeet——twofeetattheheightofherfacebelongingtoamanwhowashanging.

Sheutteredterriblecries：

"Victor！Victor！Victor！"

Heranoutinhisshirt.Shecouldnotutteranotherword，andturningasideherheadsoasnottosee，shepointedtowardthetreewithheroutstretchedarm.

Notunderstandingwhatshemeant，hetookthecandleinordertofindout，andinthemidstofthefoliagelitupfrombelowhesawoldAmablehanginghighupwithastable—halterroundhisneck.

Aladderwasleaningagainstthetrunkoftheappletree.

Victorrantofetchabill—hook，climbedupthetreeandcutthehalter.

Buttheoldmanwasalreadycoldandhistongueprotrudedhorriblywithafrightfulgrimace.

EndOriginalShortStories，Vol.10.

ByGuydeMaupassantVOLUMEX.

THECHRISTENING

THEFARMER’SWIFE

THEDEVIL

THESNIPE

THEWILL

WALTERSCHNAFF’SADVENTURE

ATSEA

MINUET

THESON

THATPIGOFAMORIN

SAINTANTHONY

LASTINGLOVE

PIERROT

ANORMANDYJOKE

FATHERMATTHEW

THECHRISTENING

"Welldoctor，alittlebrandy？"

"Withpleasure."

Theoldship’ssurgeon，holdingouthisglass，watcheditasitslowlyfilledwiththegoldenliquid.Then，holdingitinfrontofhiseyes，heletthelightfromthelampstreamthroughit，smelledit，tastedafewdropsandsmackedhislipswithrelish.Thenhesaid：

"Ah！thecharmingpoison！Orrathertheseductivemurderer，thedelightfuldestroyerofpeoples！

"YoupeopledonotknowitthewayIdo.YoumayhavereadthatadmirablebookentitledL’Assommoir，butyouhavenot，asIhave，seenalcoholexterminateawholetribeofsavages，alittlekingdomofnegroes——alcoholcalmlyunloadedbythebarrelbyred—beardedEnglishseamen.

"Rightnearhere，inalittlevillageinBrittanynearPont—l’Abbe，I

oncewitnessedastrangeandterribletragedycausedbyalcohol.Iwasspendingmyvacationinalittlecountryhouseleftmebymyfather.

Youknowthisflatcoastwherethewindwhistlesdayandnight，whereonesees，standingorprone，thesegiantrockswhichintheoldentimeswereregardedasguardians，andwhichstillretainsomethingmajesticandimposingaboutthem.Ialwaysexpecttoseethemcometolifeandstarttowalkacrossthecountrywiththeslowandponderoustreadofgiants，ortounfoldenormousgranitewingsandflytowardtheparadiseoftheDruids.

"Everywhereisthesea，alwaysreadyontheslightestprovocationtoriseinitsangerandshakeitsfoamymaneatthoseboldenoughtobraveitswrath.

"Andthemenwhotravelonthisterriblesea，which，withonemotionofitsgreenback，canoverturnandswallowuptheirfrailbarks——theygooutinthelittleboats，dayandnight，hardy，wearyanddrunk.Theyareoftendrunk.Theyhaveasayingwhichsays：’Whenthebottleisfullyouseethereef，butwhenitisemptyyouseeitnomore.’

"Gointooneoftheirhuts;youwillneverfindthefatherthere.Ifyouaskthewomanwhathasbecomeofherhusband，shewillstretchherarmsoutoverthedarkoceanwhichrumblesandroarsalongthecoast.

Heremained，thereonenight，whenhehadhadtoomuchtodrink;sodidheroldestson.Shehasfourmorebig，strong，fair—hairedboys.Soonitwillbetheirtime.

"AsIsaid，IwaslivinginalittlehousenearPont—l’Abbe.Iwastherealonewithmyservant，anoldsailor，andwithanativefamilywhichtookcareofthegroundsinmyabsence.Itconsistedofthreepersons，twosistersandaman，whohadmarriedoneofthem，andwhoattendedtothegarden.

"AshorttimebeforeChristmasmygardener’swifepresentedhimwithaboy.Thehusbandaskedmetostandasgod—father.Icouldhardlydenytherequest，andsoheborrowedtenfrancsfrommeforthecostofthechristening，ashesaid.

"TheseconddayofJanuarywaschosenasthedateoftheceremony.Foraweektheearthhadbeencoveredbyanenormouswhitecarpetofsnow，whichmadethisflat，lowcountryseemvastandlimitless.Theoceanappearedtobeblackincontrastwiththiswhiteplain;onecouldseeitrolling，ragingandtossingitswavesasthoughwishingtoannihilateitspaleneighbor，whichappearedtobedead，itwassocalm，quietandcold.

"Atnineo’clockthefather，Kerandec，cametomydoorwithhissister—

in—law，thebigKermagan，andthenurse，whocarriedtheinfantwrappedupinablanket.Westartedforthechurch.Theweatherwassocoldthatitseemedtodryuptheskinandcrackitopen.Iwasthinkingofthepoorlittlecreaturewhowasbeingcarriedonaheadofus，andIsaidtomyselfthatthisBretonracemustsurelybeofiron，iftheirchildrenwereable，assoonastheywereborn，tostandsuchanouting.

"Wecametothechurch，butthedoorwasclosed;thepriestwaslate.

"Thenthenursesatdownononeofthestepsandbegantoundressthechild.AtfirstIthoughttheremusthavebeensomeslightaccident，butIsawthattheywereleavingthepoorlittlefellownakedcompletelynaked，intheicyair.Furiousatsuchimprudence，Iprotested：

"’Why，youarecrazy！Youwillkillthechild！’

"Thewomanansweredquietly：’Oh，no，sir;hemustwaitnakedbeforetheLord.’

"Thefatherandtheauntlookedonundisturbed.Itwasthecustom.Ifitwerenotadheredtomisfortunewassuretoattendthelittleone.

"Iscolded，threatenedandpleaded.Iusedforcetotrytocoverthefrailcreature.Allwasinvain.Thenurseranawayfrommethroughthesnow，andthebodyofthelittleoneturnedpurple.IwasabouttoleavethesebruteswhenIsawthepriestcomingacrossthecountry，followed.

bythesextonandayoungboy.Irantowardshimandgaveventtomyindignation.Heshowednosurprisenordidhequickenhispaceintheleast.Heanswered：

"’Whatcanyouexpect，sir？It’sthecustom.Theyalldoit，andit’sofnousetryingtostopthem.’

"’Butatleasthurryup！’Icried.

"Heanswered：’ButIcan’tgoanyfaster.’

"Heenteredthevestry，whileweremainedoutsideonthechurchsteps.

Iwassuffering.Butwhataboutthepoorlittlecreaturewhowashowlingfromtheeffectsofthebitingcold.

"Atlastthedooropened.Hewentintothechurch.Butthepoorchildhadtoremainnakedthroughouttheceremony.Itwasinterminable.TheprieststammeredovertheLatinwordsandmispronouncedthemhorribly.

Hewalkedslowlyandwithaponderoustread.Hiswhitesurplicechilledmyheart.Itseemedasthough，inthenameofapitilessandbarbarousgod，hehadwrappedhimselfinanotherkindofsnowinordertotorturethislittlepieceofhumanitythatsufferedsofromthecold.

"FinallythechristeningwasfinishedaccordingtotheritesandIsawthenurseoncemoretakethefrozen，moaningchildandwrapitupintheblanket.

"Thepriestsaidtome：’Doyouwishtosigntheregister？’

"Turningtomygardener，Isaid："Hurryupandgethomequicklysothatyoucanwarmthatchild.’Igavehimsomeadvicesoastowardoff，ifnottoolate，abadattackofpneumonia.Hepromisedtofollowmyinstructionsandleftwithhissister—in—lawandthenurse.Ifollowedthepriestintothevestry，andwhenIhadsignedhedemandedfivefrancsforexpenses.

"AsIhadalreadygiventhefathertenfrancs，Irefusedtopaytwice.

Thepriestthreatenedtodestroythepaperandtoannultheceremony.

I，inturn，threatenedhimwiththedistrictattorney.Thedisputewaslong，andIfinallypaidfivefrancs.

"AssoonasIreachedhomeIwentdowntoKerandec’stofindoutwhethereverythingwasallright.Neitherfather，norsister—in—law，nornursehadyetreturned.Themother，whohadremainedalone，wasinbed，shiveringwithcoldandstarving，forshehadhadnothingtoeatsincethedaybefore.

"’Wherethedeucecantheyhavegone？’Iasked.Sheansweredwithoutsurpriseoranger，’They’regoingtodrinksomethingtocelebrate：Itwasthecustom.ThenIthought，ofmytenfrancswhichweretopaythechurchandwoulddoubtlesspayforthealcohol.

"Isentsomebrothtothemotherandorderedagoodfiretobebuiltintheroom.Iwasuneasyandfuriousandpromisedmyselftodriveoutthesebrutes，wonderingwithterrorwhatwasgoingtohappentothepoorinfant.

"Itwasalreadysix，andtheyhadnotyetreturned.ItoldmyservanttowaitforthemandIwenttobed.Isoonfellasleepandsleptlikeatop.AtdaybreakIwasawakenedbymyservant，whowasbringingmemyhotwater.

"AssoonasmyeyeswereopenIasked：’HowaboutKerandec？’

"Themanhesitatedandthenstammered：’Oh！hecameback，allright，aftermidnight，andsodrunkthathecouldn’twalk，andsowereKermaganandthenurse.Iguesstheymusthavesleptinaditch，forthelittleonediedandtheyneverevennoticedit.’

"Ijumpedupoutofbed，crying：

"’What！Thechildisdead？’

"’Yes，sir.TheybroughtitbacktoMotherKerandec.Whenshesawitshebegantocry，andnowtheyaremakingherdrinktoconsoleher.’

"’What’sthat？Theyaremakingherdrink！’

"’Yes，sir.Ionlyfounditoutthismorning.AsKerandechadnomorebrandyormoney，hetooksomewoodalcohol，whichmonsieurgavehimforthelamp，andallfourofthemarenowdrinkingthat.Themotherisfeelingprettysicknow.’

"Ihadhastilyputonsomeclothes，andseizingastick，withtheintentionofapplyingittothebacksofthesehumanbeasts，Ihastenedtowardsthegardener’shouse.

"Themotherwasravingdrunkbesidethebluebodyofherdeadbaby.

Kerandec，thenurse，andtheKermaganwomanweresnoringonthefloor.

Ihadtotakecareofthemother，whodiedtowardsnoon."

Theolddoctorwassilent.Hetookupthebrandy—bottleandpouredoutanotherglass.Heheldituptothelamp，andthelightstreamingthroughitimpartedtotheliquidtheambercolorofmoltentopaz.Withonegulpheswallowedthetreacherousdrink.

THEFARMER’SWIFE

SaidtheBaronReneduTreillestome：

"WillyoucomeandopenthehuntingseasonwithmeatmyfarmatMarinville？Ishallbedelightedifyouwill，mydearboy.Inthefirstplace，Iamallalone.Itisratheradifficultgroundtogetat，andtheplaceIliveinissoprimitivethatIcaninviteonlymymostintimatefriends."

Iacceptedhisinvitation，andonSaturdaywesetoffonthetraingoingtoNormandy.WealightedatastationcalledAlmivare，andBaronRene，pointingtoacarryalldrawnbyatimidhorseanddrivenbyabigcountrymanwithwhitehair，said：

"Hereisourequipage，mydearboy."

Thedriverextendedhishandtohislandlord，andthebaronpresseditwarmly，asking：

"Well，MaitreLebrument，howareyou？"

"Alwaysthesame，M’sieuleBaron."

Wejumpedintothisswinginghencoopperchedontwoenormouswheels，andtheyounghorse，afteraviolentswerve，startedintoagallop，pitchingusintotheairlikeballs.Everyfallbackwardonthewoodenbenchgavemethemostdreadfulpain.

Thepeasantkeptrepeatinginhiscalm，monotonousvoice：

"There，there！Allrightallright，Moutard，allright！"

ButMoutardscarcelyheard，andkeptcaperingalonglikeagoat.

Ourtwodogsbehindus，intheemptypartofthehencoop，werestandingupandsniffingtheairoftheplains，wheretheyscentedgame.

ThebarongazedwithasadeyeintothedistanceatthevastNormanlandscape，undulatingandmelancholy，likeanimmenseEnglishpark，wherethefarmyards，surroundedbytwoorfourrowsoftreesandfullofdwarfedappletreeswhichhidthehouses，gaveavistaasfarastheeyecouldseeofforesttrees，copsesandshrubberysuchaslandscapegardenerslookforinlayingouttheboundariesofprincelyestates.

AndReneduTreillessuddenlyexclaimed：

"Ilovethissoil;Ihavemyveryrootsinit."

HewasapureNorman，tallandstrong，withaslightpaunch，andoftheoldraceofadventurerswhowenttofoundkingdomsontheshoresofeveryocean.Hewasaboutfiftyyearsofage，tenyearslessperhapsthanthefarmerwhowasdrivingus.

Thelatterwasaleanpeasant，allskinandbone，oneofthosemenwholiveahundredyears.

Aftertwohours’travellingoverstonyroads，acrossthatgreenandmonotonousplain，thevehicleenteredoneofthoseorchardfarmyardsanddrewupbeforeinoldstructurefallingintodecay，whereanoldmaid—

servantstoodwaitingbesideayoungfellow，whotookchargeofthehorse.

Weenteredthefarmhouse.Thesmokykitchenwashighandspacious.Thecopperutensilsandthecrockeryshoneinthereflectionofthehearth.

Acatlayasleeponachair，adogunderthetable.Oneperceivedanodorofmilk，apples，smoke，thatindescribablesmellpeculiartooldfarmhouses;theodoroftheearth，ofthewalls，offurniture，theodorofspilledstalesoup，offormerwash—daysandofformerinhabitants，thesmellofanimalsandofhumanbeingscombined，ofthingsandofpersons，theodoroftime，andofthingsthathavepassedaway.

Iwentouttohavealookatthefarmyard.Itwasverylarge，fullofappletrees，dwarfedandcrooked，andladenwithfruitwhichfellonthegrassaroundthem.InthisfarmyardtheNormansmellofappleswasasstrongasthatofthebloomoforangetreesontheshoresofthesouthofFrance.

Fourrowsofbeechessurroundedthisinclosure.Theyweresotallthattheyseemedtotouchthecloudsatthishourofnightfall，andtheirsummits，throughwhichthenightwindspassed，swayedandsangamournful，interminablesong.

Ireenteredthehouse.

Thebaronwaswarminghisfeetatthefire，andwaslisteningtothefarmer’stalkaboutcountrymatters.Hetalkedaboutmarriages，birthsanddeaths，thenaboutthefallinthepriceofgrainandthelatestnewsaboutcattle.The"Veularde"（ashecalledacowthathadbeenboughtatthefairofVeules）hadcalvedinthemiddleofJune.Theciderhadnotbeenfirst—classlastyear.Apricotswerealmostdisappearingfromthecountry.

Thenwehaddinner.Itwasagoodrusticmeal，simpleandabundant，longandtranquil.AndwhilewewerediningInoticedthespecialkindoffriendlyfamiliaritywhichhadstruckmefromthestartbetweenthebaronandthepeasant.

Outside，thebeechescontinuedsighinginthenightwind，andourtwodogs，shutupinashed，werewhiningandhowlinginanuncannyfashion.

Thefirewasdyingoutinthebigfireplace.Themaid—servanthadgonetobed.MaitreLebrumentsaidinhisturn：

"Ifyoudon’tmind，M’sieuleBaron，I’mgoingtobed.Iamnotusedtostayinguplate."

Thebaronextendedhishandtowardhimandsaid："Go，myfriend，"insocordialatonethatIsaid，assoonasthemanhaddisappeared：

"Heisdevotedtoyou，thisfarmer？"

"Betterthanthat，mydearfellow！Itisadrama，anolddrama，simpleandverysad，thatattacheshimtome.Hereisthestory：

"Youknowthatmyfatherwascolonelinacavalryregiment.Hisorderlywasthisyoungfellow，nowanoldman，thesonofafarmer.Whenmyfatherretiredfromthearmyhetookthisformersoldier，thenaboutforty;ashisservant.Iwasatthattimeaboutthirty.WewerelivinginouroldchateauofValrenne，nearCaudebec—en—Caux.

"Atthisperiodmymother’schambermaidwasoneoftheprettiestgirlsyoucouldsee，fair—haired，slenderandsprightlyinmanner，agenuinesoubretteoftheoldtypethatnolongerexists.To—daythesecreaturesspringupintohussiesbeforetheirtime.Paris，withtheaidoftherailways，attractsthem，callsthem，takesholdofthem，assoonastheyarebuddingintowomanhood，theselittleslutswhoinoldtimesremainedsimplemaid—servants.Everymanpassingby，asrecruitingsergeantsdidformerly，lookingforrecruits，withconscripts，enticesandruinsthem——

thesefoolishlassies——andwehavenowonlythescumofthefemalesexforservantmaids，allthatisdull，nasty，commonandill—formed，toougly，evenforgallantry.

"Well，thisgirlwascharming，andIoftengaveherakissindarkcorners;nothingmore，Isweartoyou！Shewasvirtuous，besides;andI

hadsomerespectformymother’shouse，whichismorethancanbesaidoftheblackguardsofthepresentday.

"Now，ithappenedthatmyman—servant，theex—soldier，theoldfarmeryouhavejustseen，fellmadlyinlovewiththisgirl，perfectlydaft.Thefirstthingwenoticedwasthatheforgoteverything，hepaidnoattentiontoanything.

"Myfathersaidincessantly：

"’Seehere，Jean，what’sthematterwithyou？Areyouill？’

"Hereplied：

"’No，no，M’sieuleBaron.There’snothingthematterwithme.’

"Hegrewthin;hebrokeglassesandletplatesfallwhenwaitingonthetable.Wethoughthemusthavebeenattackedbysomenervousaffection，andsentforthedoctor，whothoughthecoulddetectsymptomsofspinaldisease.Thenmyfather，fullofanxietyabouthisfaithfulman—servant，decidedtoplacehiminaprivatehospital.Whenthepoorfellowheardofmyfather’sintentionshemadeacleanbreastofit.

"’M’sieuleBaron’

"’Well，myboy？’

"’Yousee，thethingIwantisnotphysic.’

"’Ha！whatisit，then？’

"’It’smarriage！’

"Myfatherturnedroundandstaredathiminastonishment.

"’What’sthatyousay，eh？’

"’It’smarriage."

"’Marriage！So，then，youjackass，you’retolove.’

"’That’showitis，M’sieuleBaron.’

"Andmyfatherbegantolaughsoimmoderatelythatmymothercalledoutthroughthewallofthenextroom：

"’Whatintheworldisthematterwithyou，Gontran？’

"Hereplied：

"’Comehere，Catherine.’

"Andwhenshecameinhetoldher，withtearsinhiseyesfromsheerlaughter，thathisidiotofaservant—manwaslovesick.

"Butmymother，insteadoflaughing，wasdeeplyaffected.

"’Whoisitthatyouhavefalleninlovewith，mypoorfellow？’sheasked.

"Heansweredwithouthesitation：

"’WithLouise，MadameleBaronne.’

"Mymothersaidwiththeutmostgravity：’Wemusttrytoarrangethismatterthebestwaywecan.’

"SoLouisewassentforandquestionedbymymother;andshesaidinreplythatsheknewallaboutJean’slikingforher，thatinfactJeanhadspokentoheraboutitseveraltimes，butthatshedidnotwanthim.

Sherefusedtosaywhy.

"AndtwomonthselapsedduringwhichmyfatherandmotherneverceasedtourgethisgirltomarryJean.Asshedeclaredshewasnotinlovewithanyotherman，shecouldnotgiveanyseriousreasonforherrefusal.Myfatheratlastovercameherresistancebymeansofabigpresentofmoney，andstartedthepairofthemonafarm——thisveryfarm.Ididnotseethemforthreeyears，andthenIlearnedthatLouisehaddiedofconsumption.Butmyfatherandmotherdied，too，intheirturn，anditwastwoyearsmorebeforeIfoundmyselffacetofacewithJean.

"AtlastoneautumndayabouttheendofOctobertheideacameintomyheadtogohuntingonthispartofmyestate，whichmyfatherhadtoldmewasfullofgame.

"Sooneevening，onewetevening，Iarrivedatthishouse.Iwasshockedtofindmyfather’soldservantwithperfectlywhitehair，thoughhewasnotmorethanforty—fiveorforty—sixyearsofage