首页 >出版文学> English Stories France>第2章
  Atsightofhertheeyesoftheoldwomanmoistenedandgrewdimmerthanagehadmadethem;shesmiledstill,butthesmilehadthesweetnessofablessinginit,andnolongerthekindlybanterofhumour。"Youlovehim,mylittleone?"shesaid,inasoft,hushedvoice。
  "Ah,madame!"Margotcouldnotsaymore。Shecoveredherfacewithherhands,andturnedtothewall,andweptwithapassionofjoy。
  DownintheBerceauthereweregossipswhowouldhavesaid,withwiseshakesoftheirheads,"Tut,tut!howeasyitistomakebelieveinalittlelovewhenoneisaserving-maid,andhasnotasou,noraroof,norafriendintheworld,andacomelyyouthwell-to-doiswillingtomarryus!"
  ButReineAllixknewbetter。Shehadnotlivedninetyyearsintheworldnottobeabletodiscernbetweentruefeelingandcounterfeit。
  Shewastouched,anddrewthetremblingframeofMargotintoherarms,andkissedhertwiceontheclosed,blue-veinedlidsofherblackeyes。
  "Makehimhappy,onlymakehimhappy,"shemurmured;"forIamveryold,Margot,andheisalone,allalone。"
  Andthechildcrepttoher,sobbingforveryrapturethatshe,friendless,homeless,andpenniless,shouldbethuselectedforsofairafate,andwhisperedthroughhertears,"Iwill。"
  ReineAllixspokeinallformtothemillerandhiswife,andwithasmuchearnestnessinherdemandasthoughshehadbeenseekingthehandofrichYacobe,thetavern-keeper’sonlydaughter。Thepeopleassented;
  theyhadnopretexttooppose;andReineAllixwrappedhercloakaboutheranddescendedthehillandthestreetjustasthetwilightclosedinandthelittlelightsbegantoglimmerthroughthelatticesandtheshuttersandthegreenmantleoftheboughs,whiletheredfiresofthesmithyforgeglowedbrightlyinthegloom,andawhitehorsewaitedtobeshod,aboyinablueblouseseatedonitsbackandswitchingawaywithabranchofbuddinghazelthefirstgraygnatsoftheearlyyear。
  "Itiswelldone,itiswelldone,"shesaidtoherself,lookingatthelowrosycloudsandthepalegoldofthewaningsky。"Ayearortwo,andIshallbeinmygrave。IshallleavehimeasierifIknowhehassomecreaturetocareforhim,andIshallbequietinmycoffin,knowingthathischildren’schildrenwillliveonandonandonintheBerceau,andsometimesperhapsthinkalittleofmewhenthenightsarelongandtheysitroundthefire。"
  Shewentinoutofthedewyair,intothelittlelow,squareroomofhercottage,andwentuptoBernadouandlaidherhandsonhisshoulders。
  "Beitwellwiththee,mygrandson,andwiththysons’sonsafterthee,"shesaidsolemnly。"Margotwillbethywife。Maythydaysandhersbelonginthybirthplace!"
  Amonthlatertheyweremarried。ItwasthenMay。ThegreennestoftheBerceauseemedtooverflowwiththesingingofbirdsandtheblossomingofflowers。Thecorn-landspromisedarareharvest,andtheappleorchardswereweigheddownwiththeirredandwhiteblossoms。Thelittlebrownstreamsinthewoodsbrimmedoverinthegrass,andtheairwasfullofsweetmellowsunlight,acoolfragrantbreeze,acontinualmusicofhummingbeesandsoaringlarksandmule-bellsringingontheroads,andchildishlaughterechoingfromthefields。
  InthisgladspringtimeBernadouandMargotwerewedded,goingwiththeirfriendsonesunnymorningupthewindinghill-pathtothelittlegraychapelwhosewallswerehiddeninivy,andwhosesorrowfulChristlookeddownthroughtheopenporchacrosstheblueandhazywidthoftheriver。Georges,thebaker,whosefiddlemademerrymelodyatallthevillagedances,playedbeforethemtunefully;littlechildren,withtheirhandsfullofwood-flowers,ranbeforethem;hisoldblindpoodlesmeltitswayfaithfullybytheirfootsteps;theirpriestledthewayupwardwiththecrosshelderectagainstthelight;ReineAllixwalkedbesidethem,nearlyasfirmlyasshehadtroddenthesameroadseventyyearsbeforeinherownbridalhour。InthehollowbelowlaytheBerceaudeDieu,withitsredgablesanditsthatchedroofshiddenbeneathleaves,anditspeacefulpasturessmilingunderthesereneblueskiesofFrance。
  Theywerehappy——ah,heaven,sohappy!——andalltheirlittleworldrejoicedwiththem。
  Theycamehomeandtheirneighboursenteredwiththem,andateanddrank,andgavethemgoodwishesandgaysongs,andtheoldpriestblessedthemwithafather’stendernessupontheirthreshold;andthefiddleofGeorgessentgladdestdance-musicflyingthroughtheopencasements,acrosstheroad,upthehill,farawaytothecloudsandtheriver。
  Atnight,whentheguestshaddepartedandallwasquitestillwithinandwithout,ReineAllixsataloneatherwindowintheroof,thinkingoftheirfutureandofherpast,andwatchingthestarscomeout,onebyanother,abovethewoods。Fromherlatticeintheeavesshesawstraightupthevillagestreet;sawthedwellingsofherlifelongneighbours,theslopesoftherichfields,thegleamofthebroadgraywater,thewhitenessofthecrucifixagainstthedarkenedskies。Shesawitall——allsofamiliar,withthatintimateassociationonlypossibletothepeasantwhohasdweltononespotfrombirthtoage。Inthatfaintlight,inthosedeepshadows,shecouldtraceallthesceneasthoughthebrightnessofthemoonshoneonit;itwasall,initshomelinessandsimplicity,intenselydeartoher。Intheplaytimeofherchildhood,inthecourtshipofheryouth,inthejoysandwoesofherwifehoodandwidowhood,thebitterpainsandsweetecstasiesofhermaternity,thehungerandprivationofstrugglingdesolateyears,thecontentmentandserenityofoldage——inallthesehereyeshadrestedonlyonthissmall,quaint,leafystreet,withitsdwellingscloseandlow,likebee-hivesinagarden,anditspasture-landsandcorn-lands,wood-girtandwater-fed,stretchingasfarasthesightcouldreach。
  Everyinchofitssoil,everyturnofitspaths,washallowedtoherwithinnumerablememories;allherbeloveddeadweregarneredtherewherethewhiteChristwatchedthem;whenhertimeshouldcome,shethought,shewouldrestwiththemnothingloath。Asshelooked,thetearsofthanksgivingrolleddownherwitheredcheeks,andshebentherfeeblelimbsandkneltdowninthemoonlight,praisingGodthatHehadgivenhertoliveanddieinthischerishedhome,andbeseechingHimforherchildrenthattheylikewisemightdwellinhonesty,andwithlengthofdaysabidebeneaththatroof。
  "Godisgood,"shemurmured,asshestretchedherselftosleepbeneaththeeaves,——"Godisgood。Maybe,whenHetakesmetoHimself,ifIbeworthy,HewilltellHisholysaintstogivemealittlecornerinHiskingdom,thatHeshallfashionformeinthelikenessoftheBerceau。"
  Foritseemedtoherthat,thantheBerceau,heavenitselfcouldholdnosweeterorfairernookofParadise。
  Theyearrolledon,andthecottageunderthesycamoreswasbutthehappierforitsnewinmate。Bernadouwasseriousoftemper,thoughsogentle,andthearch,gayhumourofhisyoungwifewaslikeperpetualsunlightinthehouse。Margot,too,wassodocile,soeager,sobright,andsoimbuedwithdevotionalreverenceforherhusbandandhishome,thatReineAllixdaybydayblessedthefatethathadbroughttoherthisfatherlessandpennilesschild。Bernadouhimselfspokelittle;
  wordswerenotinhisway;buthisblue,frankeyesshonewithanuncloudedradiancethatneverchanged,andhisvoice,whenhedidspeak,hadamellowsoftnessinitthatmadehisslightestspeechtothetwowomenwithhimtenderasacaress。
  "Thouartahappywoman,mysister,"saidthepriest,whowaswell-nighasoldasherself。
  ReineAllixbowedherheadandmadethesignofthecross。"Iam,praisebetoGod!"
  Andbeinghappy,shewenttothehovelofpoorMadelonDreux,thecobbler’swidow,andnursedherandherchildrenthroughamalignantfever,sittingearlyandlate,andleavingherownpeacefulhearthforthedesolatehutwiththedeliriousravingsandheartrendingmoansofthefever-stricken。"Howoughtonetodaretobehappyifoneisnotofuse?"shewouldsaytothosewhosoughttodissuadeherfromrunningsuchperil。
  MadelonDreuxandherfamilyrecovered,owingtohertheirlives;andshewashappierthanbefore,thinkingofthemwhenshesatonthesettlebeforethewoodfireroastingchestnutsandspinningflaxonthewheel,andeverandagainwatchingtheflamereflectedonthefairheadofBernadouorinthedark,smilingeyesofMargot。
  Anotherspringpassedandanotheryearwentby,andthelittlehomeunderthesycamoreswasstillnolesshonestinitslaboursorbrightinitsrest。ItwasoneamongamillionofsuchhomesinFrance,whereasunnytempermademirthwithamealofherbs,andfiliallovetouchedtopoetrytheproseofdailyhouseholdtasks。
  AchildwasborntoMargotinthespringtimewiththevioletsanddaisies,andReineAllixwasproudofthefourthgeneration,and,asshecaressedtheboy’shealthy,fairlimbs,thoughtthatGodwasindeedgoodtoher,andthatherracewouldlivelongintheplaceofherbirth。ThechildresembledBernadou,andhadhisclear,candideyes。Itsoonlearnedtoknowthevoiceof"/gran’mere/,"andwouldturnfromitsyoungmother’sbosomtostretchitsarmstoReineAllix。Itgrewfairandstrong,andalltheensuingwinterpasseditshourscurledlikeadormouseorplayinglikeapuppyatherfeetinthechimney-
  corner。Anotherspringandsummercame,andtheboywasmorethanayearold,withcurlsofgold,andcheekslikeapples,andamouththatalwayssmiled。Hecouldtalkalittle,andtumbledlikeayoungrabbitamongthefloweringgrasses。ReineAllixwatchedhim,andhereyesfilled。"Godistoogood,"shethought。Shefearedthatsheshouldscarcebesowillingtogotoherlastsleepunderthetreesonthehillsideassheusedtobe。Shecouldnothelpadesiretoseethischild,thissecondBernadou,growuptoyouthandmanhood;andofthissheknewitwaswildtodream。
  Itwasripemidsummer。Thefieldswereallrussetandamberwithanabundanceofcorn。Thelittlegardenshadseldomyieldedsorichaproduce。Thecattleandtheflockswereinexcellenthealth。Therehadneverbeenaseasonofgreaterpromiseandprosperityforthelittletrafficthatthevillageanditsfarmsdroveinsendingmilkandsheepandvegetablewealthtothatgreatcitywhichwastoitasadim,wonderful,mysticnamewithoutmeaning。
  Oneeveninginthisgraciousandgoldentimethepeoplesatoutasusualwhenthedaywasdone,talkingfromdoortodoor,theoldwomenknittingorspinning,theyoungeronesmendingtheirhusbands’orbrothers’blousesorthelittleblueshirtsoftheirinfants,thechildrenplayingwiththedogsontheswardthatedgedthestonesofthestreet,andaboveallthegreatcalmheavensandtheglowofthesunthathadset。
  ReineAllix,liketheothers,satbeforethedoor,foroncedoingnothing,butwithfoldedhandsandbendedheaddreamilytakingpleasureinthecoolnessthathadcomewithevening,andthesmellofthelimesthatwereinblossom,andtheblithechatterofMargotwiththeneighbours。Bernadouwasclosebesidethem,wateringandweedingthoseflowersthatwereatoncehisprideandhisrecreation,makingthefaceofhisdwellingbrightandtheairarounditfulloffragrance。
  Thelittlestreetwasquietintheeveninglight,onlythelaughterofthechildrenandthegaygossipoftheirmothersbreakingthepleasantstillness;ithadbeenthusateveningwiththeBerceaucenturiesbeforetheirtime;theythoughtthatitwouldthuslikewisebewhenthecenturiesshouldhaveseentheyoungest-bornthereinhisgrave。
  Suddenlycamealongtheroadbetweenthetreesanoldmanandamule;
  itwasMathurin,themiller,whohadbeenthatdaytoalittletownfourleaguesoff,whichwasthetrade-martandthecorn-exchangeofthedistrict。HepausedbeforethecottageofReineAllix;hewasdusty,travel-stained,andsad。Margotceasedlaughingamongherflowersasshesawheroldmaster。Noneofthemknewwhy,yetthesightofhimmadetheairseemcoldandthenightseemnear。
  "Thereisterriblenews,"hesaid,drawingasheetofprintedwordsfromhiscoat-pocket——"terriblenews!Wearetogotowar。"
  "War!"Thewholevillageclusteredroundhim。Theyhadheardofwar,far-offwarsinAfricaandMexico,andsomeoftheirsonshadbeentakenofflikeyoungwheatmownbeforeitstime;butitstillremainedtothemathingremote,impersonal,inconceivable,withwhichtheyhadnothingtodo,noreverwouldhaveanything。
  "Read!"saidtheoldman,stretchingouthissheet。Theonlyonetherewhocoulddoso,Picot,thetailor,tookitandspelledthenewsouttotheirwonderingears。ItwasthedeclarationofFranceagainstPrussia。
  Therearoseagreatwailfromthemotherswhosesonswereconscripts。
  Therestaskedintrembling,"Willittouchus?"
  "Us!"echoedPicot,thetailor,incontempt。"Howshouldittouchus?
  OurbraveswillbeinBerlinwithanotherfortnight。Thepapersaysso。"
  Thepeopleweresilent;theywerenotsurewhathemeantbyBerlin,andtheywereafraidtoask。
  "Myboy!myboy!"wailedonewoman,smitingherbreast。Hersonwasinthearmy。
  "Marengo!"murmuredReineAllix,thinkingofthatfar-offtimeinherdimyouthwhenthehorsemanhadflownthroughtheduskystreetandthebonfirehadblazedonthehighesthillabovetheriver。
  "Breadwillbedear,"mutteredMathurin,themiller,goingonwardwithhisfoot-wearymule。Bernadoustoodsilent,withhisrosesdryandthirstyroundhim。
  "Whyartthousad?"whisperedMargot,withwistfuleyes。"Thouartexemptfromwarservice,mylove?"
  Bernadoushookhishead。"Thepoorwillsuffersomehow,"wasallheanswered。
  Yettohim,astoalltheBerceau,thenewswasnotveryterrible,becauseitwassovagueanddistant——anevilsofaroffandshapeless。
  MonsieurPicot,thetailor,whoalonecouldread,ranfromhousetohouse,fromgrouptogroup,breathless,gay,andtriumphant,tellingthemallthatintwoweeksmoretheirbrethrenwouldsupintheking’spalaceatBerlin;andthepeoplebelievedandlaughedandchattered,and,standingoutsidetheirdoorsinthecoolnights,thoughtthatsomegoodhadcometothemandtheirs。
  OnlyReineAllixlookeduptothehillabovetheriverandmurmured,"Whenwelitthebonfirethere,Claudislaydead;"andBernadou,standingmusingamonghisroses,said,withasmilethatwasverygrave,"Margot,seehere!WhenPicotshouted,’/ABerlin!/’hetrodonmyGloiredeDijonroseandkilledit。"
  Thesultryheatsandcloudlessnightsofthewondrousandawfulsummeroftheyear1870passedby,andtotheBerceaudeDieuitwasasummeroffairpromiseandnobleharvest,andneverhadthelandbroughtforthinricherprofusionformanandbeast。Someoftheyoungestandablest-
  bodiedlabourerswereindeeddrawnawaytojointhoseswifttrainsthathurriedthousandsandtensofthousandstothefrontierbytheRhine。
  Butmostofthemalepopulationweremarried,andwerethefathersofyoungchildren;andthevillagewasonlymovedtoathrillofloveandofhonestpridetothinkhowitsyoungLouisandJeanandAndreandValentinweregonefullofhighhopeandhighspirit,tocomeback,maybe,——whocouldsaynot?——withepauletsandribbonsofhonour。Whytheyweregonetheyknewnotveryclearly,buttheirsuperiorsaffirmedthattheyweregonetomakegreaterthegreatnessofFrance;andthefolkoftheBerceaubelievedit,havinginacorneroftheirquietheartsacertainvague,dormant,yetdeep-rootedlove,onwhichwaswrittenthenameoftheircountry。
  NewscameslowlyandseldomtotheBerceau。Unlesssomeoneofthemenrodehismuletothelittletown,whichwasbutveryrarely,orunlesssomepeddlercamethroughthevillagewithanews-sheetorsoinhispackorrumoursandtidingsonhislips,nothingthatwasdonebeyonditsfieldsandwoodscametoit。Andthetruthofwhatitheardithadnomeansofmeasuringorsifting。Itbelievedwhatitwastold,withoutquestioning;andasitreapedtheharvestsintherichhotsunofAugust,itspeasantslabouredcheerilyinthesimpleandfirmbeliefthatmightythingswerebeingdoneforthemandtheirsinthefareasternprovincesbytheirgreatarmy,andthatLouisandJeanandAndreandValentinandtherest——thoughindeednotidingshadbeenheardofthem——weresafeandwellandglorioussomewhere,awaywherethesunrose,inthesackedpalacesoftheGermanking。ReineAllixaloneofthemwasseriousandsorrowful,shewhosememoriesstretchedbackoverthewidespaceofnearacentury。
  "Whyartthouanxious,/gran’mere/?"theysaidtoher。"Thereisnocause。Ourarmyisvictoriouseverywhere;andtheysayourladswillsendusallthePrussians’cornandcattle,sothattheverybeggarswillhavetheirstomachsfull。"
  ButReineAllixshookherhead,sittingknittinginthesun。"Mychildren,Irememberthedaysofmyyouth。Ourarmywasvictoriousthen;atleast,theysaidso。Well,allIknowisthatlittleClaudisandtheboyswithhimnevercameback;andasforbread,youcouldnotgetitforloveormoney,andthepeoplelaydeadoffamineoutonthepublicroads。"
  "Butthatissolongago,/gran’mere/!"theyurged。
  ReineAllixnodded。"Yes,itislongago,mydears。ButIdonotthinkthatthingschangeverymuch。"
  Theyweresilentoutofrespectforher,butamongthemselvestheysaid,"Sheisveryold。Nothingisasitwasinhertime。"
  Oneevening,whenthesunwassettingredoverthereapenfields,tworidersontremblingandsinkinghorseswentthroughthevillageusingwhipandspur,andscarcelydrewreinastheyshoutedtothecottagerstoknowwhethertheyhadseengobyamanrunningforhislife。Thepeoplerepliedthattheyhadseennothingofthekind,andthehorsemenpressedon,jammingtheirspursintotheirpoorbeasts’steamingflanks。"Ifyouseehim,catchandhanghim,"theyshouted,astheyscouredaway;"heisaPrussianspy!"
  "APrussian!"thevillagersechoed,withastupidstare——"aPrussianinFrance!"
  Oneoftheriderslookedoverhisshoulderforamoment。"Youfools!doyounotknow?Wearebeaten,——beateneverywhere,——andthePrussianpigsmarchonParis。"
  ThespywasnotseenintheBerceau,butthenewsbroughtbyhispursuersscaredsleepfromtheeyesofeverygrownmanthatnightinthelittlevillage。"ItistheaccursedEmpire!"screamedthepatriotsofthewine-shop。Buttherestofthepeopleweretooterrifiedanddown-strickentotakeheedofempiresorpatriots;theyonlythoughtofLouisandJeanandAndreandValentin;andtheycollectedroundReineAllix,whosaidtothem,"Mychildren,forloveofmoneyallourfairestfruitsandflowers——yea,eventothebestblossomsofourmaidenhood——weresenttobeboughtandsoldinParis。Wesinnedtherein,andthisisthewillofGod。"
  Thiswasallforatimethattheyheard。Itwasaplacelowlyandobscureenoughtobeleftinpeace。Thelawpounceddownonitonceortwiceandcarriedoffafewmoreofitsmenforarmyservice,andarmsweresenttoitfromitsneighbouringtown,andanoldsoldieroftheFirstEmpiretriedtoinstructitsremainingsonsintheiruse。ButhehadnoaptpupilexceptBernadou,whosoonlearnedtohandleamusketwithskillandwithprecision,andwhocarriedhisstraightformgallantlyandwell,thoughhiswordswereseldomheardandhiseyeswerealwayssad。
  "Youwillnotbecalledtillthelast,Bernadou,"saidtheoldsoldier;
  "youaremarried,andmaintainyourgrandamandwifeandchild。Butastrong,muscular,well-builtyouthlikeyoushouldnotwaittobecalled;youshouldvolunteertoserveFrance。"
  "IwillserveFrancewhenmytimecomes,"saidBernadou,simply,inanswer。Buthewouldnotleavehisfieldsbarren,andhisorcharduncaredfor,andhiswifetosickenandstarve,andhisgrandmothertoperishaloneinherninety-thirdyear。Theyjeeredandfloutedandupbraidedhim,thosepatriotswhoscreamedagainstthefallenEmpireinthewine-shop;buthelookedthemstraightintheeyes,andheldhispeace,anddidhisdailywork。
  "Ifheiscalled,hewillnotbefoundwanting,"saidReineAllix,whoknewhimbetterthandideventheyoungwifewhomheloved。
  Bernadouclungtohishomewithadoggeddevotion。Hewouldnotgofromittofightunlesscompelled,butforithewouldhavefoughtlikealion。Hisloveforhiscountrywasonlyanindefinite,shadowyexistencethatwasnotcleartohim;hecouldnotsavealandthathehadneverseen,acapitalthatwasonlytohimasanemptyname;norcouldhecomprehendthedangerthathisnationran,norcouldhedesiretogoforthandspendhislife-bloodindefenceofthingsunknowntohim。Hewasonlyapeasant,andhecouldnotreadnorgreatlyunderstand。Butaffectionforhisbirthplacewasapassionwithhim,muteindeed,butdeep-seatedasanoak。Forhisbirthplacehewouldhavestruggledasamancanonlystrugglewhensupremeloveaswellasdutynerveshisarm。NeitherhenorReineAllixcouldseethataman’sdutymightliefromhome,butinthathomebothwerealikereadytodareanythingandtosuffereverything。Itwasanarrowformofpatriotism,yetithadnobleness,endurance,andpatienceinit;insongithasbeenoftentimesdeifiedasheroism,butinmodernwarfareitispunishedastheblackestcrime。
  SoBernadoutarriedinhiscottagetillheshouldbecalled,keepingwatchbynightoverthesafetyofhisvillage,andbydaydoingallhecouldtoaidthedesertedwivesandmothersoftheplacebythetillingoftheirgroundforthemandthetendingofsuchpoorcattleaswereleftintheirdesolatefields。HeandMargotandReineAllix,betweenthem,fedmanymouthsthatwouldotherwisehavebeenclosedindeathbyfamine,anddeniedthemselvesallexceptthebarestandmostmeagresubsistence,thattheymightgiveawaythelittletheypossessed。
  Andallthiswhilethewarwenton,butseemedfarfromthem,soseldomdidanytidingsofitpiercetheseclusioninwhichtheydwelt。By-and-
  by,astheautumnwenton,theylearnedalittlemore。Fugitivescomingtothesmithyforahorse’sshoe;womenfleeingtotheiroldvillagehomesfromtheirbase,gaylifeinthecity;mandatesfromthegovernmentofdefencesenttoeveryhamletinthecountry;straynews-
  sheetsbroughtinbycarriersorhawkersandhucksters——allthesebydegreestoldthemoftheperiloftheircountry,vaguelyindeed,andseldomtruthfully,butsothatbymutilatedrumourstheycameatlasttoknowtheawfulfactsofthefateofSedan,thefalloftheEmpire,thesiegeofParis。Itdidnotaltertheirdailylives;itwasstilltoofaroffandtooimpalpable。Butaforeboding,adread,anunspeakablewoesettleddownonthem。Alreadytheirlandsandcattlehadbeenharassedtoyieldprovisionforthearmyandlargetowns;
  alreadytheirbesthorseshadbeentakenforthesiege-trainsandtheforage-waggons;alreadytheirploughshareswereperforceidle,andtheirchildrencriedbecauseofthescarcityofnourishment;alreadytheironofwarhadenteredtheirsouls。
  Thelittlestreetateveningwasmournfulandverysilent;thefewwhotalkedspokeinwhispers,lestaspyshouldhearthem,andtheyoungoneshadnostrengthtoplay——theywantedfood。
  "Itisasitwasinmyyouth,"saidReineAllix,eatingherpieceofblackbreadandputtingasidethebetterfoodpreparedforher,thatshemightsaveit,unseen,forthe"child。"
  Itwashorribletoherandtoallofthemtoliveinthatcontinualterrorofanunknownfoe,thatperpetualexpectationofsomeghastly,shapelessmisery。Theywerequiet,——soquiet!——butbyalltheyheardtheyknewthatanynight,astheywenttotheirbeds,thethunderofcannonmightawakenthem;anymorning,astheylookedontheirbelovedfields,theyknewthateresunsettheflamesofwarmighthavedevouredthem。Theyknewsolittletoo;alltheyweretoldwassoindefiniteandgarbledthatsometimestheythoughtthewholewassomehorriddream——
  thoughtso,atleast,untiltheylookedattheiremptystables,theiruntilledland,theirchildrenwhocriedfromhunger,theirmotherswhoweptfortheconscripts。
  Butasyetitwasnotsoverymuchworsethanithadbeenintimesofbadharvestandofdiredistress;andthestormwhichragedoverthelandhadasyetsparedthislittlegreennestamongthewoodsontheSeine。
  Novembercame。"Itisacoldnight,Bernadou;putonsomemorewood,"
  saidReineAllix。Fuelattheleastwasplentifulinthatdistrict,andBernadouobeyed。
  Hesatatthetable,workingatanewchurnforhiswife;hehadsomeskillatturneryandatinventioninsuchmatters。Thechildsleptsoundlyinitscradlebythehearth,smilingwhileitdreamed。Margotspunatherwheel。ReineAllixsatbythefire,seldomliftingherheadfromherlongknitting-needles,excepttocastalookonhergrandsonoratthesleepingchild。Thelittlewoodenshutterofthehousewasclosed。Somewinterrosesbloomedinapotbeneaththelittlecrucifix。
  Bernadou’sflutelayonashelf;hehadnothadheartenoughtoplayitsincethenewsofthewarhadcome。
  Suddenlyagreatsobbingcryrosewithout——thecryofmanyvoices,allraisedinwoetogether。Bernadourose,tookhismusketinhishand,undidhisdoor,andlookedout。Allthepeoplewereturnedoutintothestreet,andthewomen,loudlylamenting,beattheirbreastsandstrainedtheirchildrentotheirbosoms。Therewasasullenredlightintheskytotheeastward,andonthewindalow,hollowroarstoletothem。
  "Whatisit?"heasked。
  "ThePrussiansareonus!"answeredtwentyvoicesinoneaccord。"Thatredglareisthetownburning。"
  Thentheywereallstill——astillnessthatwasmorehorriblethantheirlamentations。
  ReineAllixcameandstoodbyhergrandson。"Ifwemustdie,letusdie/here/,"shesaid,inavoicethatwaslowandsoftandgrave。
  Hetookherhandandkissedit。Shewascontentwithhisanswer。
  Margotstoleforthtoo,andcrouchedbehindthem,holdingherchildtoherbreast。"Whatcantheydotous?"sheasked,trembling,withtherichcoloursofherfaceblanchedwhite。
  Bernadousmiledonher。"Idonotknow,mydear。Ithinkeventheycanhardlybringdeathuponwomenandchildren。"
  "Theycan,andtheywill,"saidavoicefromthecrowd。
  Noneanswered。Thestreetwasveryquietinthedarkness。Farawayintheeasttheredglareglowed。Onthewindwasstillthatfaint,distant,raveningroar,liketheroaroffamishedwolves;itwastheroaroffireandofwar。
  InthesilenceReineAllixspoke:"Godisgood。ShallwenottrustinHim?"
  Withonegreatchokingsobthepeopleanswered;theirheartswerebreaking。Allnightlongtheywatchedinthestreet——theywhohaddonenomoretobringthiscurseuponthemthantheflower-rootsthatsleptbeneaththesnow。Theydarednotgototheirbeds;theyknewnotwhentheenemymightbeuponthem。Theydarednotflee;evenintheirownwoodsthefoemightlurkforthem。Onemanindeeddidcryaloud,"Shallwestayhereinourhousestobesmokedoutlikebeesfromtheirhives?
  Letusfly!"
  Butthecalm,firmvoiceofReineAllixrebukedhim:"Letwhowill,runlikeaharefromthehounds。Formeandmine,weabidebyourhomestead。"
  Andtheywereashamedtobeoutdonebyawoman,andawomanofninetyyearsold,andnomanspokeanymoreofflight。Allthenightlongtheywatchedinthecoldandthewind,thechildrenshiveringbeneaththeirmothers’skirts,themensullenlywatchingthelightoftheflamesinthedark,starlesssky。Allnightlongtheywereleftalone,thoughfarofftheyheardthedroppingshotsofscatteredfiring,andintheleaflesswoodsaroundthemtheswiftflightofwoodlandbeastsstartledfromtheirsleep,andthehurryingfeetofsheepterrifiedfromtheirfoldsintheoutlyingfields。
  Thedaybreakcame,gray,cheerless,verycold。Adensefog,whiteandraw,hungovertheriver;intheeast,wherethesun,theyknew,wasrising,theycouldonlyseethelividlightofthestilltoweringflamesandpillarsofblacksmokeagainsttheleadenclouds。
  "Wewillletthemcomeandgoinpeaceiftheywill,"murmuredoldMathurin。"Whatcanwedo?Wehavenoarms,nopowderhardly,nosoldiers,nodefence。"
  Bernadousaidnothing,buthestraightenedhistalllimbs,andinhisgraveblueeyesalightgleamed。
  ReineAllixlookedathimasshesatinthedoorwayofherhouse。"Thyhandsarehonest,thyheartpure,thyconscienceclear。Benotafraidtodieifneedtherebe,"shesaidtohim。
  Helookeddownandsmiledonher。Margotclungtohiminapassionofweeping。Heclaspedhercloseandkissedhersoftly,butthewomanwhoreadhisheartwasthewomanwhohadheldhimathisbirth。
  Bydegreesthewomencrepttimidlybackintotheirhouses,hidingtheireyessothattheyshouldnotseethathorridlightagainstthesky,whilethestarvingchildrenclungtotheirbreastsortotheirskirts,wailingaloudinterror。Thefewmentherewereleft,forthemostpartofthemveryoldorelsemerestriplings,gatheredtogetherinahurriedcouncil。OldMathurin,themiller,andthepatriotsofthewine-shopwereagreedthatthereshouldbenoresistance,whatevermightbefallthem;thatitwouldbebesttohidesuchweaponsastheyhadandanyprovisionsthatstillremainedtothem,andyieldupthemselvesandtheirhomeswithhumblegracetothedirefoe。"Ifwedootherwise,"theysaid,"thesoldierswillsurelyslayus,andwhatcanamiserablelittlehamletlikethisachieveagainstcannonandsteelandfire?"
  Bernadoualoneraisedhisvoiceinopposition。Hiseyekindled,hischeekflushed,hiswordsforoncesprangfromhislipslikefire。
  "What!"hesaidtothem,"shallweyieldupourhomesandourwivesandourinfantswithoutasingleblow?ShallwebesovileastotruckletotheenemiesofFranceandshowthatwecanfearthem?Itwereashame,afoulshame;wewerenotworthyofthenameofmen。LetusprovetothemthattherearepeopleinFrancewhoarenotafraidtodie。Letusholdourownsolongaswecan。Ourmusketsaregood,ourwallsstrong,ourwoodsinthisweathermorassesthatwillsuckinandswallowthemifonlywehavetacttodrivethemthere。Letusdowhatwecan。Thecampofthefrancs-tireursisbutthreeleaguesformus。Theywillbecertaintocometoouraid。Atanyrate,letusdiebravely。Wecandolittle,thatmaybe;butifeverymaninFrancedoesthatlittlethathecan,thatlittlewillbegreatenoughtodrivetheinvadersoffthesoil。"
  Mathurinandtheothersscreamedathimandhooted。"Youareafool!"
  theyshouted。"Youwillbetheundoingofusall。Doyounotknowthatoneshotfired,nay,onlyonemusketfound,andtheenemyputsatorchtothewholeplace?"
  "Iknow,"saidBernadou,withadarkradianceinhisazureeyes。"Butthenitisachoicebetweendisgraceandtheflames;letusonlytakeheedtobeclearofthefirst——thelastmustrageasGodwills。"
  Buttheyscreamedandmouthedandhissedathim:"Ohyes!finetalk,finetalk!Seeyourownroofinflamesifyouwill;youshallnotruinours。Dowhatyouwillwithyourownneck;keepiterectorhangbyit,asyouchoose。Butyouhavenorighttogiveyourneighboursovertodeath,whethertheywillorno。"
  Hestrove,hepleaded,heconjured,hestruggledwiththemhalfthenight,withthesalttearsrunningdownhischeeks,andallhisgentlebloodburningwithrighteouswrathandloathingshame,stirredforthefirsttimeinallhislifetoarude,simple,passionateeloquence。Buttheywerenotpersuaded。Theirfewgoldpieceshiddenintherafters,theirfewfeeblesheepstarvinginthefolds,theirownmiserablelives,allhungry,woe-begone,andspentindailyterrors——thesewerestilldeartothem,andtheywouldnotimperilthem。Theycalledhimamadman;theydenouncedhimasonewhowouldbetheirmurderer;theythrewthemselvesonhimanddemandedhismusket,toburyitwiththerestunderthealtarintheoldchapelonthehill。
  Bernadou’seyesflashedfire;hisbreastheaved;hisnervesquivered;
  heshookthemoffandstrodeastepforward。"Asyoulive,"hemuttered,"Ihaveamindtofireonyou,ratherthanletyoulivetoshameyourselvesandme!"
  ReineAllix,whostoodbyhimsilentallthewhile,laidherhandonhisshoulder。"Myboy,"shesaidinhisear,"youareright,andtheyarewrong。Yetletnotdissensionbetweenbrethrenopenthedoorfortheenemytoentertherebyintoyourhomes。Dowhatyouwillwithyourownlife,Bernadou,——itisyours,——butleavethemtodoastheywillwiththeirs。Youcannotmakesheepintolions,andletnotthefirstbloodshedherebeabrother’s。"
  Bernadou’sheaddroppedonhisbreast。"Doasyouwill,"hemutteredtohisneighbours。Theytookhismusketfromhim,andinthedarknessofthenightstolesilentlyupthewoodedchapelhillandburiedit,withalltheirotherarms,underthealtarwherethewhiteChristhung。"Wearesafenow,"saidMathurin,themiller,tothepatriotsofthetavern。"Hadthatmadmanhadhisway,hehaddestroyedusall。"
  ReineAllixsoftlyledhergrandsonacrosshisownthreshold,anddrewhisheaddowntohers,andkissedhimbetweentheeyes。"Youdidwhatyoucould,Bernadou,"shesaidtohim;"lettherestcomeasitwill。"
  Thensheturnedfromhim,andflunghercloakoverherhead,andsankdown,weepingbitterly;forshehadlivedthroughninety-threeyearsonlytoseethisagonyatthelast。
  Bernadou,nowthatallmeansofdefencewasgonefromhim,andtheonlythinglefttohimtodealwithwashisownlife,hadbecomequietandsilentandpassionless,aswashishabit。Hewouldhavefoughtlikeamastiffforhishome,butthistheyhadforbiddenhimtodo,andhewaspassiveandwithouthope。Heshuttohisdoor,andsatdownwithhishandinthatofReineAllixandhisarmaroundhiswife。"Thereisnothingtodobuttowait,"hesaid,sadly。Thedayseemedverylongincoming。
  Thefiringceasedforawhile;thenitsrollcommencedafresh,andgrewnearertothevillage。Thenagainallwasstill。
  Atnoonashepherdstaggeredintotheplace,pale,bleeding,bruised,coveredwithmire。ThePrussians,hetoldthem,hadforcedhimtobetheirguide,hadknottedhimtighttoatrooper’ssaddle,andhaddraggedhimwiththemuntilhewashalfdeadwithfatigueandpain。Atnighthehadbrokenfromthemandhadfled。Theywerecloseathand,hesaid,andhadburnedthetownfromendtoendbecauseamanhadfiredatthemfromahousetop。Thatwasallheknew。Bernadou,whohadgoneouttohearhisnews,returnedintothehouseandsatdownandhidhisfacewithinhishands。"IfIresistyouarealllost,"hemuttered。
  "Andyettoyieldlikeacur!"Itwasapiteousquestion,whethertofollowtheinstinctinhimandseehisbirthplaceinflamesandhisfamilyslaughteredforhisact,ortocrushoutthemanhoodinhimandlive,loathinghimselfasacowardforevermore。
  ReineAllixlookedathim,andlaidherhandonhisbowedhead,andhervoicewasstrongandtenderasmusic:"Fretnotthyself,mybeloved。
  Whenthemomentcomes,thendoasthineownheartandthewhisperofGodinitbidthee。"
  Agreatsobansweredher;itwasthefirstsincehisearliestinfancythatshehadeverheardfromBernadou。
  Itgrewdark。Theautumndaydied。Thesullencloudsdroppedscatteredrain。Theredleaveswereblowninmillionsbythewind。Thelittlehousesoneithersidetheroadweredark,forthedwellersinthemdarednotshowanylightthatmightbeastartoalluretothemthefootstepsoftheirfoes。Bernadousatwithhisarmsonthetable,andhisheadrestingonthem。Margotnursedherson。ReineAllixprayed。
  Suddenlyinthestreetwithouttherewasthesoundofmanyfeetofhorsesandofmen,theshoutingofangryvoices,thesplashingofquickstepsinthewateryways,thescreamsofwomen,theflashofsteelthroughthegloom。Bernadousprangtohisfeet,hisfacepale,hisblueeyesdarkasnight。"Theyarecome!"hesaid,underhisbreath。Itwasnotfearthathefelt,norhorror;itwasratherapassionofloveforhisbirthplaceandhisnation——apassionoflongingtostruggleandtodieforboth。Andhehadnoweapon!
  Hedrewhishouse-dooropenwithasteadyhand,andstoodonhisownthresholdandfacedthesehisenemies。Thestreetwasfullofthem,somemounted,someonfoot;crowdsofthemswarmedinthewoodsandontheroads。Theyhadsettledonthevillageasvulturesonadeadlamb’sbody。Itwasalittle,lowlyplace;itmightwellhavebeenleftinpeace。Ithadhadnomoreshareinthewarthanachildstillunborn,butitcameinthevictors’way,andtheirmailedheelcrusheditastheypassed。Theyhadheardthatarmswerehiddenandfrancs-tireursshelteredthere,andtheyhadswoopeddownonitandheldithardandfast。Someweretoldofftosearchthechapel;sometoransackthedwellings;sometoseizesuchfoodandbringsuchcattleastheremightbeleft;sometoseekoutthedeviouspathsthatcrossedandrecrossedthefields;andyetthereremainedinthelittlestreethundredsofarmedmen,forceenoughtoaweacitadelorstormabreach。
  Thepeopledidnotattempttoresist。Theystoodpassive,dry-eyedinmisery,lookingonwhilethelittletreasuresoftheirhouseholdlivesweresweptawayforever,andignorantwhatfatebyfireorironmightbetheirportionerethenightwasdone。Theysawthecornthatwastheirwinterstoretosavetheiroffspringfromfaminepouredoutlikeditch-water。Theysawoatsandwheatflungdowntobetroddenintoasloughofmudandfilth。Theysawthewalnutpressesintheirkitchensbrokenopen,andtheiroldheirloomsofsilver,centuriesold,borneawayasbooty。Theysawtheoakcupboardsintheirwives’bed-chambersransacked,andthehomespunlinenandthequaintbitsofplatethathadformedtheirnuptialdowerscastasideinderisionortrampledintoabatteredheap。Theysawthepetlamboftheirinfants,thesilverear-
  ringsoftheirbrides,thebravetankardstheyhaddrunktheirmarriagewinein,thetamebirdthatflewtotheirwhistle,allseizedforfoodorseizedforspoil。Theysawallthis,andhadtostandbywithmutetonguesandpassivehands,lestanyglanceofwrathorgestureofrevengeshouldbringtheleadenbulletintheirchildren’sthroatsortheyellowflameamidtheirhomesteads。Greateragonytheworldcannothold。
  Undertheporchofthecottage,bythesycamores,onegroupstoodandlooked,silentandverystill:Bernadou,erect,pale,calm,withafiercescornburninginhiseyes;Margot,quietbecausehewishedherso,holdingtohertherosyandgoldenbeautyofherson;ReineAllix,withapatienthorroronherface,herfiguredrawntoitsfullheight,andherhandsholdingtoherbreastthecrucifix。Theystoodthus,waitingtheyknewnotwhat,onlyresolutetoshownocowardiceandmeetnoshame。
  Behindthemwasthedull,waningglowofthewoodfireonthehearthwhichhadbeenthecentreofalltheirhopesandjoys;beforethemthedim,darkcountry,andthewoe-strickenfacesoftheirneighbours,andthemovingsoldierywiththeirtorches,andthequiveringformsofthehalf-dyinghorses。
  Suddenlyavoicearosefromthearmedmass:"Bringmethepeasanthither。"
  Bernadouwasseizedbyseveralhandsandforcedanddraggedfromhisdoorouttotheplacewheretheleaderoftheuhlanssatonawhitechargerthatshookandsnortedbloodinitsexhaustion。Bernadoucastoffthealiengraspthatheldhim,andstooderectbeforehisfoes。Hewasnolongerpale,andhiseyeswereclearandsteadfast。
  "Youlooklessafoolthantherest,"saidthePrussiancommander。"Youknowthiscountrywell?"
  "Well!"Thecountryinwhosefieldsandwoodlandshehadwanderedfromhisinfancy,andwhoseeverymeadow-pathandwaysidetreeandflower-
  sownbrookheknewbyheartasaloverknowsthelinesofhismistress’sface!
  "Youhavearmshere?"pursuedtheGerman。
  "Wehad。"
  "Whathaveyoudonewiththem?"
  "IfIhadhadmyway,youwouldnotneedask。Youwouldhavefeltthem。"
  ThePrussianlookedathimkeenly,doinghomagetotheboldnessoftheanswer。"Willyouconfesswheretheyare?"
  "No。"
  "Youknowthepenaltyforconcealmentofarmsisdeath?"
  "Youhavemadeitso。"
  "Wehave,andPrussianwillisFrenchlaw。Youareaboldman;youmeritdeath。Butstill,youknowthecountrywell?"
  Bernadousmiled,asamothermightsmilewereanyfoolishenoughtoaskherifsherememberedthelookherdeadchild’sfacehadworn。
  "Ifyouknowitwell,"pursuedthePrussian,"Iwillgiveyouachance。
  Layholdofmystirrup-leatherandbelashedtoit,andshowmestraightasthecrowfliestowheretheweaponsarehidden。Ifyoudo,Iwillleaveyouyourlife。Ifyoudonot——"
  "IfIdonot?"
  "Youwillbeshot。"
  Bernadouwassilent;hiseyesglancedthroughthemassofsoldierstothelittlecottageunderthetreesopposite。Thetwotherewerestrainingtobeholdhim,butthesoldierspushedthemback,sothatintheflareofthetorchestheycouldnotsee,norinthetumulthear。HethankedGodforit。
  "Yourchoice?"askedtheuhlan,impatiently,afteramoment’spause。
  Bernadou’slipswerewhite,buttheydidnottrembleasheanswered,"I
  amnotraitor。"Andhiseyes,ashespoke,wentsoftlytothelittleporchwherethelightglowedfromthathearthbesidewhichhewouldneveragainsitwiththecreatureshelovedaroundhim。
  TheGermanlookedathim。"Isthataboast,orafact?"
  "Iamnotraitor,"Bernadouanswered,simply,oncemore。
  ThePrussiangaveasigntohistroopers。Therewasthesharpreportofadoubleshot,andBernadoufelldead。Onebullethadpiercedhisbrain,theotherwasbeddedinhislungs。Thesoldierskickedasidethewarmandquiveringbody。Itwasonlyapeasantkilled!
  Withashriekthatroseabovetheroarofthewind,andcutlikesteeltoeveryhumanheartthatbeatthere,ReineAllixforcedherwaythroughthethrong,andfellonherkneesbesidehim,andcaughthiminherarms,andlaidhisheaduponherbreast,wherehehadusedtosleephissoftestsleepininfancyandchildhood。"ItisGod’swill!itisGod’swill!"shemuttered;andthenshelaughed——alaughsoterriblethatthebloodoftheboldestthererancold。
  Margotfollowedherandlooked,andstooddry-eyedandsilent;thenflungherselfandthechildshecarriedinherarmsbeneaththehoofofthewhitecharger。"Endyourwork!"sheshriekedtothem。"Youhavekilledhim——killus。Haveyounotmercyenoughforthat?"
  Thehorse,terrifiedandsnortingblood,plungedandtrampledtheground;hisforefootstruckthechild’sgoldenheadandstampeditsfaceoutofallhumanlikeness。SomepeasantspulledMargotfromthelashinghoofs;shewasquitedead,thoughneitherwoundnorbruisewasonher。
  ReineAllixneitherlookednorpaused。WithallherstrengthshehadbeguntodragthebodyofBernadouacrossthethresholdofhishouse。
  "Heshalllieathome,heshalllieathome,"shemuttered。Shewouldnotbelievethatalreadyhewasdead。Withalltheforceofherearliestwomanhoodsheliftedhim,andhalfdrew,halfborehimintothehousethathehadloved,andlaidhimdownuponthehearth,andkneltbyhim,caressinghimasthoughhewereoncemoreachild,andsayingsoftly,"Hush!"——forhermindwasgone,andshefanciedthatheonlyslept。
  Without,thetumultofthesoldieryincreased。Theyfoundthearmshiddenunderthealtaronthehill;theyseizedfivepeasantstoslaythemforthedireoffence。Themenstruggled,andwouldnotgoasthesheeptotheshambles。Theywereshotdowninthestreet,beforetheeyesoftheirchildren。Thentheorderwasgiventofiretheplaceinpunishment,andleaveittoitsfate。Thetorcheswereflungwithalaughonthedrythatchedroofs;brandssnatchedfromthehousefiresonthehearthsweretossedamongthedwelling-housesandthebarns。Thestrawandtimberflaredalightliketow。
  Anoldman,hernearestneighbour,rushedtothecottageofReineAllixandseizedherbythearm。"TheyfiretheBerceau,"hescreamed。
  "Quick!quick!oryouwillbeburnedalive!"
  ReineAllixlookedupwithasmile。"Bequiet!Doyounotsee!Hesleeps。"
  Theoldmanshookher,imploredher,strovetodragheraway;indesperationpointedtotheroofabove,whichwasalreadyinflames。
  ReineAllixlooked。Atthatsighthermindcleared,andregainedconsciousness;sherememberedall,sheunderstoodall;sheknewthathewasdead。"Goinpeaceandsaveyourself,"shesaid,intheold,sweet,strongtoneofanearlierday。"Asforme,Iamveryold。Iandmydeadwillstaytogetherathome。"
  Themanfled,andlefthertoherchoice。
  Thegreatcurledflamesandthelividvapoursclosedaroundher;shenevermoved。Thedeathwasfierce,butswift,andevenindeathsheandtheonewhomshehadlovedandrearedwerenotdivided。Theendsooncame。FromhilltohilltheBerceaudeDieubrokeintoflames。Thevillagewasalakeoffire,intowhichthestatueoftheChrist,burningandreeling,fell。Somefewpeasants,withtheirwivesandchildren,fledtothewoods,andthereescapedonetorturetoperishmoreslowlyofcoldandfamine。Allotherthingsperished。Therapidstreamoftheflamelickedupalltherewasinitspath。Thebaretreesraisedtheirleaflessbranches,onfireatathousandpoints。Thestoresofcornandfruitwerelappedbymillionsofcrimsontongues。
  Thepigeonsflewscreamingfromtheirroosts,andsankintothesmoke。
  Thedogsweresuffocatedonthethresholdstheyhadguardedalltheirlives。Thesheepranbleatingwiththewoolburningontheirlivingbodies。Thelittlecagedbirdsflutteredhelpless,andthendropped,scorchedtocinders。Theagedandthesickwerestifledintheirbeds。
  Allthingsperished。
  TheBerceaudeDieuwasasonevastfurnace,inwhicheverylivingcreaturewascaughtandconsumedandchangedtoashes。Thetideofwarhasrolledon,andleftitablackenedwaste,asmokingruin,whereinnotsomuchasamousemaycreeporabirdmaynestle。Itisgone,anditsplacecanknowitnevermore。
  Nevermore。Butwhoistheretocare?Itwasbutasaleafwhichthegreatstormsweptawayasitpassed。
  THETRAVELLER’SSTORYOFA
  TERRIBLYSTRANGEBED
  BY
  WILKIECOLLINS
  PROLOGUETOTHEFIRSTSTORY
  BeforeIbegin,bytheaidofmywife’spatientattentionandreadypen,torelateanyofthestorieswhichIhaveheardatvarioustimesfrompersonswhoselikenessesIhavebeenemployedtotake,itwillnotbeamissifItrytosecurethereader’sinterestinthefollowingpagesbybrieflyexplaininghowIbecamepossessedofthenarrativematterwhichtheycontain。
  OfmyselfIhavenothingtosay,butthatIhavefollowedtheprofessionofatravellingportrait-painterforthelastfifteenyears。
  ThepursuitofmycallinghasnotonlyledmeallthroughEngland,buthastakenmetwicetoScotlandandoncetoIreland。Inmovingfromdistricttodistrict,Iamneverguidedbeforehandbyanysettledplan。
  SometimesthelettersofrecommendationwhichIgetfrompersonswhoaresatisfiedwiththeworkIhavedoneforthemdeterminethedirectioninwhichItravel。SometimesIhearofanewneighbourhoodinwhichthereisnoresidentartistofability,andremovethitheronspeculation。Sometimesmyfriendsamongthepicture-dealerssayagoodwordonmybehalftotheirrichcustomers,andsopavethewayformeinthelargetowns。Sometimesmyprosperousandfamousbrotherartists,hearingofsmallcommissionswhichitisnotworththeirwhiletoaccept,mentionmyname,andprocuremeintroductionstopleasantcountryhouses。ThusIgeton,nowinonewayandnowinanother,notwinningareputationormakingafortune,buthappier,perhaps,onthewhole,thanmanymenwhohavegotboththeoneandtheother。So,atleast,Itrytothinknow,thoughIstartedinmyyouthwithashighanambitionasthebestofthem。ThankGod,itisnotmybusinessheretospeakofpasttimesandtheirdisappointments。Atwingeoftheoldhopelessheartachecomesovermesometimesstill,whenIthinkofmystudentdays。
  Onepeculiarityofmypresentwayoflifeis,thatitbringsmeintocontactwithallsortsofcharacters。Ialmostfeel,bythistime,asifIhadpaintedeverycivilisedvarietyofthehumanrace。Uponthewhole,myexperienceoftheworld,roughasithasbeen,hasnottaughtmetothinkunkindlyofmyfellow-creatures。IhavecertainlyreceivedsuchtreatmentatthehandsofsomeofmysittersasIcouldnotdescribewithoutsaddeningandshockinganykind-heartedreader;but,takingoneyearandoneplacewithanother,Ihavecausetorememberwithgratitudeandrespect,sometimesevenwithfriendshipandaffection,averylargeproportionofthenumerouspersonswhohaveemployedme。
  Someoftheresultsofmyexperiencearecuriousinamoralpointofview。Forexample,Ihavefoundwomenalmostuniformlylessdelicateinaskingmeaboutmyterms,andlessgenerousinremuneratingmeformyservices,thanmen。Ontheotherhand,men,withinmyknowledge,aredecidedlyvaineroftheirpersonalattractions,andmorevexatiouslyanxioustohavethemdonefulljusticetooncanvas,thanwomen。Takingbothsexestogether,Ihavefoundyoungpeople,forthemostpart,moregentle,morereasonable,andmoreconsideratethanold。And,summingup,inageneralway,myexperienceofdifferentranks(whichextends,letmepremise,allthewaydownfrompeerstopublicans),Ihavemetwithmostofmyformalandungraciousreceptionsamongrichpeopleofuncertainsocialstanding;thehighestclassesandthelowestamongmyemployersalmostalwayscontrive——inwidelydifferentways,ofcourse——
  tomakemefeelathomeassoonasIentertheirhouses。
  TheonegreatobstaclethatIhavetocontendagainstinthepracticeofmyprofessionisnot,assomepersonsmayimagine,thedifficultyofmakingmysitterskeeptheirheadsstillwhileIpaintthem,butthedifficultyofgettingthemtopreservethenaturallookandtheevery-
  daypeculiaritiesofdressandmanner。Peoplewillassumeanexpression,willbrushuptheirhair,willcorrectanylittlecharacteristiccarelessnessintheirapparel——will,inshort,whentheywanttohavetheirlikenessestaken,lookasiftheyweresittingfortheirpictures。IfIpaintthemundertheseartificialcircumstances,I
  fail,ofcourse,topresentthemintheirhabitualaspect;andmyportrait,asanecessaryconsequence,disappointseverybody,thesitteralwaysincluded。Whenwewishtojudgeofaman’scharacterbyhishandwriting,wewanthiscustomaryscrawldashedoffwithhiscommonworkadaypen,nothisbestsmalltexttracedlaboriouslywiththefinestprocurablecrow-quillpoint。Soitiswithportrait-painting,whichis,afterall,nothingbutarightreadingoftheexternalsofcharacterrecognisablypresentedtotheviewofothers。
  Experience,afterrepeatedtrials,hasprovedtomethattheonlywayofgettingsitterswhopersistinassumingasetlooktoresumetheirhabitualexpressionistoleadthemintotalkingaboutsomesubjectinwhichtheyaregreatlyinterested。IfIcanonlybeguilethemintospeakingearnestly,nomatteronwhattopic,Iamsureofrecoveringtheirnaturalexpression;sureofseeingallthelittlepreciousevery-
  daypeculiaritiesofthemanorwomanpeepout,oneafteranother,quiteunawares。Thelongmaunderingstoriesaboutnothing,thewearisomerecitalsofpettygrievances,thelocalanecdotesunrelievedbythefaintestsuspicionofanythinglikegeneralinterest,whichI
  havebeencondemnedtohear,asaconsequenceofthawingtheiceoffthefeaturesofformalsittersbythemethodjustdescribed,wouldfillhundredsofvolumesandpromotethereposeofthousandsofreaders。Ontheotherhand,ifIhavesufferedunderthetediousnessofthemany,I
  havenotbeenwithoutmycompensatinggainsfromthewisdomandexperienceofthefew。TosomeofmysittersIhavebeenindebtedforinformationwhichhasenlargedmymind,tosomeforadvicewhichhaslightenedmyheart,tosomefornarrativesofstrangeadventurewhichrivetedmyattentionatthetime,whichhaveservedtointerestandamusemyfiresidecircleformanyyearspast,andwhicharenow,I
  wouldfainhope,destinedtomakekindfriendsformeamongawideraudiencethananythatIhaveyetaddressed。
  Singularlyenough,almostallthebeststoriesthatIhaveheardfrommysittershavebeentoldbyaccident。Ionlyremembertwocasesinwhichastorywasvolunteeredtome;and,althoughIhaveoftentriedtheexperiment,Icannotcalltomindevenasingleinstanceinwhichleadingquestions(aslawyerscallthem)onmypart,addressedtoasitter,everproducedanyresultworthrecording。OverandoveragainI
  havebeendisastrouslysuccessfulinencouragingdullpeopletowearyme。Butthecleverpeoplewhohavesomethinginterestingtosayseem,sofarasIhaveobservedthem,toacknowledgenootherstimulantthanchance。Foreverystory,exceptingone,Ihavebeenindebted,inthefirstinstance,tothecapriciousinfluenceofthesamechance。
  Somethingmysitterhasseenaboutme,somethingIhaveremarkedinmysitter,orintheroominwhichItakethelikeness,orintheneighbourhoodthroughwhichIpassonmywaytowork,hassuggestedthenecessaryassociation,orhasstartedtherighttrainofrecollections,andthenthestoryappearedtobeginofitsownaccord。Occasionallythemostcasualnotice,onmypart,ofsomeveryunpromisingobjecthassmoothedthewayfortherelationofalongandinterestingnarrative。
  Ifirstheardoneofthemostdramaticstoriesmerelythroughbeingcarelesslyinquisitivetoknowthehistoryofastuffedpoodle-dog。
  ItisthusnotwithoutreasonthatIlaysomestressonthedesirablenessofprefacingthefollowingnarrativebyabriefaccountofthecuriousmannerinwhichIbecamepossessedofit。Astomycapacityforrepeatingthestorycorrectly,Icananswerforitthatmymemorymaybetrusted。Imayclaimitasamerit,becauseitis,afterall,amechanicalone,thatIforgetnothing,andthatIcancalllong-
  pastconversationsandeventsasreadilytomyrecollectionasiftheyhadhappenedbutafewweeksago。OftwothingsatleastIfeeltolerablycertainbefore-hand,inmeditatingoveritscontents:first,thatIcanrepeatcorrectlyallthatIhaveheard;and,secondly,thatIhavenevermissedanythingworthhearingwhenmysitterswereaddressingmeonaninterestingsubject。AlthoughIcannottaketheleadintalkingwhileIamengagedinpainting,Icanlistenwhileothersspeak,andworkallthebetterforit。
  SomuchinthewayofgeneralprefacetothepagesforwhichIamabouttoaskthereader’sattention。Letmenowadvancetoparticulars,anddescribehowIcametohearthestory。IbeginwithitbecauseitisthestorythatIhaveoftenest"rehearsed,"toborrowaphrasefromthestage。WhereverIgo,Iamsoonerorlatersuretotellit。OnlylastnightIwaspersuadedintorepeatingitoncemorebytheinhabitantsofthefarm-houseinwhichIamnowstaying。
  Notmanyyearsago,onreturningfromashortholidayvisittoafriendsettledinParis,Ifoundprofessionallettersawaitingmeatmyagent’sinLondon,whichrequiredmyimmediatepresenceinLiverpool。
  Withoutstoppingtounpack,Iproceededbythefirstconveyancetomynewdestination;and,callingatthepicture-dealer’sshopwhereportrait-paintingengagementswerereceivedforme,foundtomygreatsatisfactionthatIhadremunerativeemploymentinprospect,inandaboutLiverpool,foratleasttwomonthstocome。Iwasputtingupmylettersinhighspirits,andwasjustleavingthepicture-dealer’sshoptolookoutforcomfortablelodgings,whenIwasmetatthedoorbythelandlordofoneofthelargesthotelsinLiverpool——anoldacquaintancewhomIhadknownasmanagerofataverninLondoninmystudentdays。
  "Mr。Kerby!"heexclaimed,ingreatastonishment。"Whatanunexpectedmeeting!thelastmanintheworldwhomIexpectedtosee,andyettheverymanwhoseservicesIwanttomakeuseof!"
  "What!moreworkforme?"saidI。"AreallthepeopleinLiverpoolgoingtohavetheirportraitspainted?"
  "Ionlyknowofone,"repliedthelandlord,"agentlemanstayingatmyhotel,whowantsachalkdrawingdoneofhim。Iwasonmywayheretoinquireforanyartistwhomourpicture-dealingfriendcouldrecommend。
  HowgladIamthatImetyoubeforeIhadcommittedmyselftoemployingastranger!"
  "Isthislikenesswantedatonce?"Iasked,thinkingofthenumberofengagementsthatIhadalreadygotinmypocket。
  "Immediately——to-day——thisveryhour,ifpossible,"saidthelandlord。
  "Mr。Faulkner,thegentlemanIamspeakingof,wastohavesailedyesterdayfortheBrazilsfromthisplace;butthewindshiftedlastnighttothewrongquarter,andhecameashoreagainthismorning。Hemay,ofcourse,bedetainedhereforsometime;buthemayalsobecalledonboardshipathalfanhour’snotice,ifthewindshiftsbackagainintherightdirection。Thisuncertaintymakesitamatterofimportancethatthelikenessshouldbebegunimmediately。Undertakeitifyoupossiblycan,forMr。Faulknerisaliberalgentleman,whoissuretogiveyouyourownterms。"
  Ireflectedforaminuteortwo。Theportraitwasonlywantedinchalk,andwouldnottakelong;besides,Imightfinishitintheevening,ifmyotherengagementspressedharduponmeinthedaytime。Whynotleavemyluggageatthepicture-dealer’s,putofflookingforlodgingstillnight,andsecurethenewcommissionboldlybygoingbackatoncewiththelandlordtothehotel?Idecidedonfollowingthiscoursealmostassoonastheideaoccurredtome;putmychalksinmypocket,andasheetofdrawing-paperinthefirstofmyportfoliosthatcametohand;
  andsopresentedmyselfbeforeMr。Faulkner,readytotakehislikeness,literallyatfiveminutes’notice。
  Ifoundhimaverypleasant,intelligentman,youngandhandsome。Hehadbeenagreattraveller,hadvisitedallthewondersoftheEast,andwasnowabouttoexplorethewildsofthevastSouthAmericancontinent。Thusmuchhetoldmegood-humouredlyandunconstrainedlywhileIwaspreparingmydrawingmaterials。
  AssoonasIhadputhimintherightlightandposition,andhadseatedmyselfoppositetohim,hechangedthesubjectofconversation,andaskedme,alittleconfusedlyasIthought,ifitwasnotacustomarypracticeamongportrait-painterstoglossoverthefaultsintheirsitters’faces,andtomakeasmuchaspossibleofanygoodpointswhichtheirfeaturesmightpossess。
  "Certainly,"Ianswered。"Youhavedescribedthewholeartandmysteryofsuccessfulportrait-paintinginafewwords。"
  "MayIbeg,then,"saidhe,"thatyouwilldepartfromtheusualpracticeinmycase,anddrawmewithallmydefects,exactlyasIam?
  Thefactis,"hewenton,afteramoment’spause,"thelikenessyouarenowpreparingtotakeisintendedformymother。myrovingdispositionmakesmeagreatanxietytoher,andshepartedfrommethislasttimeverysadlyandunwillingly。Idon’tknowhowtheideacameintomyhead,butitstruckmethismorningthatIcouldnotbetteremploythetimewhileIwasdelayedhereonshorethanbygettingmylikenessdonetosendtoherasakeepsake。ShehasnoportraitofmesinceIwasachild,andsheissuretovalueadrawingofmemorethananythingelseIcouldsendtoher。IonlytroubleyouwiththisexplanationtoprovethatIamreallysincereinmywishtobedrawnunflatteringly,exactlyasIam。"
  Secretlyrespectingandadmiringhimforwhathehadjustsaid,I
  promisedthathisdirectionsshouldbeimplicitlyfollowed,andbegantoworkimmediately。BeforeIhadpursuedmyoccupationfortenminutes,theconversationbegantoflag,andtheusualobstacletomysuccesswithasittergraduallysetitselfupbetweenus。Quiteunconsciously,ofcourse,Mr。Faulknerstiffenedhisneck,shuthismouth,andcontractedhiseyebrows——evidentlyundertheimpressionthathewasfacilitatingtheprocessoftakinghisportraitbymakinghisfaceaslikealifelessmaskaspossible。Alltracesofhisnaturalanimatedexpressionwerefastdisappearing,andhewasbeginningtochangeintoaheavyandrathermelancholy-lookingman。
  ThiscompletealterationwasofnogreatconsequencesolongasIwasonlyengagedindrawingtheoutlineofhisfaceandthegeneralformofhisfeatures。Iaccordinglyworkedondoggedlyformorethananhour;
  thenleftofftopointmychalksagain,andtogivemysitterafewminutes’rest。ThusfarthelikenesshadnotsufferedthroughMr。
  Faulkner’sunfortunatenotionoftherightwayofsittingforhisportrait;butthetimeofdifficulty,asIwellknew,wastocome。ItwasimpossibleformetothinkofputtinganyexpressionintothedrawingunlessIcouldcontrivesomemeans,whenheresumedhischair,ofmakinghimlooklikehimselfagain。"Iwilltalktohimaboutforeignparts,"thoughtI,"andtryifIcan’tmakehimforgetthatheissittingforhispictureinthatway。"
  WhileIwaspointingmychalks,Mr。Faulknerwaswalkingupanddowntheroom。HechancedtoseetheportfolioIhadbroughtwithmeleaningagainstthewall,andaskediftherewereanysketchesinit。ItoldhimtherewereafewwhichIhadmadeduringmyrecentstayinParis。
  "InParis?"herepeated,withalookofinterest;"mayIseethem?"
  Igavehimthepermissionheaskedasamatterofcourse。Sittingdown,hetooktheportfolioonhisknee,andbegantolookthroughit。Heturnedoverthefirstfivesketchesrapidlyenough;butwhenhecametothesixthIsawhisfaceflushdirectly,andobservedthathetookthedrawingoutoftheportfolio,carriedittothewindow,andremainedsilentlyabsorbedinthecontemplationofitforfullfiveminutes。