The Complete Short Stories of Émile Zola. Эмиль Золя
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the current in the cool of the evening. The baskets had been carried back to the boat, and we had laid down, here and there, each according to fancy.
Antoinette and Léon had seated themselves beneath a large sweetbriar, which extended its limbs above their heads. They were half hidden by the green branches. As their backs were turned to me, I could not see whether they were laughing or crying. They spoke in an undertone, and appeared to be quarrelling. As for myself, I had selected a little mound covered with fine grass; and stretching out lazily, I saw at the same time the heavens and the turf on which my feet were resting. The two lovers, appreciating, no doubt, the charm of my attitude, had come and laid down, one on my right and the other on my left.
They profited by their position to talk to me both at the same time.
The one on my left nudged me slightly with his arm when he found I was no longer listening to him.
“Sir,” he said to me, “I have rarely met a more capricious woman than Mademoiselle Antoinette. You cannot imagine how her head turns at the least thing. For example, when we met you this morning we were on our way to dine two leagues away from here. You had hardly disappeared, when she made us retrace our steps; the country didn’t please her, she said. It’s enough to drive one crazy. For my part, I like doing things one can understand.”
The man who was on my right said at the same time, obliging me to listen to him:
“Sir, I have been seeking an opportunity to speak to you in private since this morning. My companion and myself think we owe you an explanation. We have noticed your great friendship for Mademoiselle Antoinette, and we very much regret to interfere with your plans. If we had known of your love a week earlier, we would have withdrawn, so as not to cause a gentleman the least pain; but now it is rather late: we no longer feel strong enough to make the sacrifice. Besides, I will be straightforward: Antoinette loves me. I pity you, and am ready to give you satisfaction.”
I hastened to allay his fears. But although I vowed to him that I never had been, and never would be Antoinette’s sweetheart, he nevertheless continued to lavish the most tender consolation upon me. He found it so delicious to think that he had robbed me of my love.
The other, annoyed at the attention I was paying to his companion, bent over towards me. To compel me to lend him an ear, he confided to me a great secret.
“I want to be straightforward with you,” he said; “Antoinette loves me. I sincerely pity her other admirers.”
At that moment I heard a peculiar sound; it came from the bush beneath which Léon and Antoinette were sheltering themselves. I couldn’t tell whether it was a kiss or the note of a frightened fauvette.
In the meanwhile, my right-hand neighbour had surprised my left-hand neighbour, telling me Antoinette loved him. He raised himself and looked at him defiantly. I slipped away from them, and slyly gained a hedge, behind which I ensconced myself. Then they found themselves face to face.
My cluster of brambles was admirably situated. I could see Antoinette and Léon, but without, however, hearing what they said. They were still quarrelling; only they seemed closer to one another. As to the men in love, they were above me, and I could follow their dispute. The young woman was turning her back to them, so they were able to give vent to their fury at ease.
“You have behaved very badly,” said one; “you should have withdrawn two days ago. Haven’t you sufficient intelligence to see? Antoinette prefers me.”
“No indeed,” answered the other, “I have not that intelligence. But you have the stupidity, you, to take for yourself the smiles and glances intended for me.”
“Rest assured, my poor gentleman, that Antoinette loves me.”
“Rest assured, my happy sir, that Antoinette adores me.”
I looked at Antoinette. There was certainly no fauvette in the bush.
“I am tired of all this,” resumed one of the suitors. “Are not you of my opinion, that it is time for one of us to make himself scarce?”
“I was about to suggest to you that we should cut one another’s throats,” answered the other.
They had raised their voices; were gesticulating, getting up and sitting down again in their anger. The young woman, attracted by the increasing noise of the quarrel, turned her head. I saw her look astonished, then smile. She called Léon’s attention to the two young men, and said a few words to him which made him quite merry.
He rose and went towards the river, leading his companion along with him. They stifled their bursts of laughter, and avoided kicking the stones as they walked along. I thought they were going to hide themselves, so as to cause a search to be made for them afterwards.
The two wooers were shouting still louder; having no swords, they were making ready to use their fists. In the meantime Léon had reached the. boat; he helped Antoinette into it, and quietly began to undo the cord; then he jumped in himself.
Just as one of the suitors was about to strike the other, he caught sight of the boat in mid-stream. Thunderstruck, forgetting to hit, he pointed it out to his companion.
“Heh! heh!” he shouted, running to the bank, “what’s the meaning of this joke?”
I had been entirely forgotten behind my bush. Happiness and misfortune, alike, make persons egotists. I rose.
“Gentlemen,” I said to the poor fellows who stood gaping and bewildered, “don’t you remember the fable? The joke means this: Antoinette, whom you thought you had stolen from me, is being stolen from you.”
“The comparison is gallant!” Léon shouted out to me. “Those gentlemen are thieves, and madam is an—”
Madam kissed him, and the kiss smothered the ugly word.
“Brothers,” I added, turning towards my stranded companions, “here we are without food and without a roof above our heads. Let us build a hut, and live on wild berries until a vessel comes to take us off our desert island.”
VI
And then?
And then, what do I know! You are asking me too much, Ninette. Antoinette and Léon have been living for two months, now, in the sky-blue nest. Antoinette continues a frank and good girl. Léon speaks ill of women more impetuously than ever. They dote on each other.
SISTER-OF-THE-POOR
I
AT the age of ten, the poor child seemed so delicate, that it was pitiful to see her working as hard as a farm-servant. She had great, wondering eyes, and the sad smile of those who suffer without complaining. The rich farmers who met her of an evening coming out of the wood, ill-clad and loaded with a heavy burden, sometimes offered, when the corn had sold well, to buy her a good petticoat in thick fustian, and she would then answer: “I know of a poor old man, who stands under the church porch, exposed to this December cold, and who has only one blouse; buy him a cloth jacket, and tomorrow, when I see him so well clad, I shall feel warm.” It was for that reason they had nicknamed her Sister-of-the-poor; and some called her so in derision, on account of her old clothes, whilst others did so as a reward for her kind heart.
Sister-of-the-poor, in her early days, had had a fine lace cradle and enough playthings to fill a room. Then, one morning, her mother did not come to kiss her when it was time to get up. As she cried at not seeing her, they told her that one of God’s angels had borne her away to Paradise, and that dried her tears. A month previous, her father had gone in the same way. The dear little thing thought he had just called her mother from the sky, and that the two being united, unable to live without their daughter, would soon send an angel to carry her away in her turn.
She had forgotten how she had lost her playthings