按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
Arguing thus； he bent over the prostrate man with a cynical laugh：
one might have thought he was Satan watching the departure of a soul
too utterly lost to escape him。
〃Alas！ alas！〃 cried the sufferer； 〃may God have mercy on me！ I feel
my end is near。〃
〃Bah！ comrade； drive away these dismal thoughts。 Your leg pains you
well they will cut it off！ Think only of the other one； and trust
in Providence！〃
〃Water； a drop of water； for Heaven's sake！〃 The sufferer was in a
high fever。 The would…be nurse looked round and saw a jug of water；
towards which the dying man extended a trembling hand。 A truly
infernal idea entered his mind。 He poured some water into a gourd
which hung from his belt； held it to the lips of the wounded man； and
then withdrew it。
〃Oh！ I thirst…that water！ 。 。 。 For pity's sake； give me some！〃
〃Yes； but on one condition you must tell me your whole history。〃
〃Yes 。 。 。 but give me water！〃
His tormentor allowed him to swallow a mouthful； then overwhelmed him
with questions as to his family； his friends and fortune； and
compelled him to answer by keeping before his eyes the water which
alone could relieve the fever which devoured him。 After this often
interrupted interrogation； the sufferer sank back exhausted； and
almost insensible。 But； not yet satisfied； his companion conceived
the idea of reviving him with a few drops of brandy； which quickly
brought back the fever； and excited his brain sufficiently to enable
him to answer fresh questions。 The doses of spirit were doubled
several times； at the risk of ending the unhappy man's days then and
there： Almost delirious； his head feeling as if on fire； his
sufferings gave way to a feverish excitement； which took him back to
other places and other times： he began to recall the days of his
youth and the country where he lived。 But his tongue was still
fettered by a kind of reserve： his secret thoughts； the private
details of his past life were not yet told； and it seemed as though
he might die at any moment。 Time was passing； night already coming
on； and it occurred to the merciless questioner to profit by the
gathering darkness。 By a few solemn words he aroused the religious
feelings of the sufferer； terrified him by speaking of the
punishments of another life and the flames of hell； until to the
delirious fancy of the sick man he took the form of a judge who could
either deliver him to eternal damnation or open the gates of heaven
to him。 At length； overwhelmed by a voice which resounded in his ear
like that of a minister of God； the dying man laid bare his inmost
soul before his tormentor； and made his last confession to him。
Yet a few moments； and the executionerhe deserves no other name
hangs over his victim； opens his tunic； seizes some papers and a few
coins； half draws his dagger； but thinks better of it； then；
contemptuously spurning the victim； as the other surgeon had done
〃I might kill you；〃 he says； 〃but it would be a useless murder； it
would only be hastening your last Sigh by an hour or two； and
advancing my claims to your inheritance by the same space of time。〃
And he adds mockingly：
〃Farewell； my brother！〃
The wounded soldier utters a feeble groan； the adventurer leaves the
room。
Four months later； a woman sat at the door of a house at one end ；of
the village of Artigues； near Rieux； and played with a child about
nine or ten years of age。 Still young； she had the brown complexion
of Southern women； and her beautiful black hair fell in curls about
her face。 Her flashing eyes occasionally betrayed hidden passions；
concealed； however； beneath an apparent indifference and lassitude；
and her wasted form seemed to acknowledge the existence of some
secret grief。 An observer would have divined a shattered life； a
withered happiness； a soul grievously wounded。
Her dress was that of a wealthy peasant； and she wore one of the long
gowns with hanging sleeves which were in fashion in the sixteenth
century。 The house in front of which she sat belonged to her； so
also the immense field which adjoined the garden。 Her attention was
divided between the play of her son and the orders she was giving to
an old servant； when an exclamation from the child startled her。
〃Mother！〃 he cried； 〃mother； there he is！〃
She looked where the child pointed； and saw a young boy turning the
corner of the street。
〃Yes；〃 continued the child； 〃that is the lad who； when I was playing
with the other boys yesterday； called me all sorts of bad names。〃
〃What sort of names； my child？〃
〃There was one I did not understand； but it must have been a very bad
one； for the other boys all pointed at me； and left me alone。 He
called meand he said it was only what his mother had told himhe
called me a wicked bastard！〃
His mother's face became purple with indignation。 〃What！〃 she cried；
〃they dared！ 。 。 。 What an insult！〃
〃What does this bad word mean； mother？〃 asked the child； half
frightened by her anger。 〃Is that what they call poor children who
have no father？〃
His mother folded him in her arms。 〃Oh！〃 she continued； 〃it is an
infamous slander！ These people never saw your father； they have only
been here six years； and this is the eighth since he went away； but
this is abominable！ We were married in that church； we came at once
to live in this house； which was my marriage portion； and my poor
Martin has relations and friends here who will not allow his wife to
be insulted〃
〃Say rather； his widow；〃 interrupted a solemn voice。
〃Ah！ uncle！〃 exclaimed the woman； turning towards an old man who had
just emerged from the house。
〃Yes； Bertrande；〃 continued the new…comer； 〃you must get reconciled
to the idea that my nephew has ceased to exist。 I am sure he was not
such a fool as to have remained all this time without letting us hear
from him。 He was not the fellow to go off at a tangent； on account
of a domestic quarrel which you have never vouchsafed to explain to
me； and to retain his anger during all these eight years！ Where did
he go？ What did he do？ We none of us know； neither you nor I； nor
anybody else。 He is assuredly dead； and lies in some graveyard far
enough from here。 May God have mercy on his soul！〃
Bertrande； weeping； made the sign of the cross； and bowed her head
upon her hands。
〃Good…bye； Sanxi；〃 said the uncle； tapping the child's；' cheek。
Sanxi turned sulkily away。
There was certainly nothing specially attractive about the uncle： he
belonged to a type which children instinctively dislike； false；
crafty； with squinting eyes which continually appeared to contradict
his honeyed tongue。
〃Bertrande；〃 he said； 〃your boy is like his father before him； and
only answers my kindness with rudeness。〃
〃Forgive him；〃 answered the mother； 〃he is very young； and does not
understand the respect due to his father's uncle。 I will teach him
better things； he will soon learn that he ought to be grateful for
the care you have taken of his little property。〃
〃No doubt； no doubt；〃 said the uncle； trying hard to smile。 〃I will
give you a good account of it； for I shall only have to reckon with
you two in future。 Come； my dear； believe me； your husband is really
dead； and you have sorrowed quite enough for a good…for…nothing
fellow。 Think no more of him。〃
So saying； he departed； leaving the poor young woman a prey to the
saddest thoughts。
Bertrande de Rolls； naturally gifted with extreme sensibility； on
which a careful education had imposed due restraint； had barely
completed her twelfth year when she was married to Martin Guerre； a
boy of about the same age； such precocious unions being then not
uncommon； especially in the Southern provinces。 They were generally
settled by considerations of family interest； assisted by the
extremely early development habitual to the climate。 The young
couple lived for a long time as brother and sister； and Bertrande；
thus early familiar with the idea of domestic happiness； bestowed her
whole affection on the youth whom she had been taught to regard as
her life's companion。 He was the Alpha and Omega of her existence；
all her love； all her thoughts； were given to him； and when their
marriage was at length completed； the birth of a son seemed only
another link in the already long existing bond of union。 But； as
many wise men have remarked； a uniform happiness； which only attaches
women more and more； has often upon men a precisely contrary effect；
and so it was with Martin Guerre。 Of a lively and excitable
temperament； he wearied of a yoke which had been imposed so early；
and； anxious to see the world and enjoy some freedom； he one day took
advantage of a domestic difference； in which Bertrande owned herself
to have been wrong； and left his house and family。 He was sought and
awaited