An Historical Mystery (The Gondreville Mystery). Honore de Balzac

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СКАЧАТЬ were disclosed in this trifling yet important circumstance.

      “I’ve an appointment the other side of the forest,” said the bailiff. “I can’t go with you, but my son here will take you to the chateau. How did you get to Gondreville? did you come by Cinq-Cygne?”

      “We had, like yourself, business in the forest,” said Corentin, without apparent sarcasm.

      “Francois,” cried Michu, “take these gentlemen to the chateau by the wood path, so that no one sees them; they don’t follow the beaten tracks. Come here,” he added, as the strangers turned to walk away, talking together as they did so in a low voice. Michu caught the boy in his arms, and kissed him almost solemnly with an expression which confirmed his wife’s fears; cold chills ran down her back; she glanced at her mother with haggard eyes, for she could not weep.

      “Go,” said Michu; and he watched the boy until he was entirely out of sight. Couraut was barking on the other side of the road in the direction of Grouage. “Oh, that’s Violette,” remarked Michu. “This is the third time that old fellow has passed here to-day. What’s in the wind? Hush, Couraut!”

      A few moments later the trot of a pony was heard approaching.

      CHAPTER II. A CRIME RELINQUISHED

      Violette, mounted on one of those little nags which the farmers in the neighborhood of Paris use so much, soon appeared, wearing a round hat with a broad brim, beneath which his wood-colored face, deeply wrinkled, appeared in shadow. His gray eyes, mischievous and lively, concealed in a measure the treachery of his nature. His skinny legs, covered with gaiters of white linen which came to the knee, hung rather than rested in the stirrups, seemingly held in place by the weight of his hob-nailed shoes. Above his jacket of blue cloth he wore a cloak of some coarse woollen stuff woven in black and white stripes. His gray hair fell in curls behind his ears. This dress, the gray horse with its short legs, the manner in which Violette sat him, stomach projecting and shoulders thrown back, the big chapped hands which held the shabby bridle, all depicted him plainly as the grasping, ambitious peasant who desires to own land and buys it at any price. His mouth, with its bluish lips parted as if a surgeon had pried them open with a scalpel, and the innumerable wrinkles of his face and forehead hindered the play of features which were expressive only in their outlines. Those hard, fixed lines seemed menacing, in spite of the humility which country-folks assume and beneath which they conceal their emotions and schemes, as savages and Easterns hide theirs behind an imperturbable gravity. First a mere laborer, then the farmer of Grouage through a long course of persistent ill-doing, he continued his evil practices after conquering a position which surpassed his early hopes. He wished harm to all men and wished it vehemently. When he could assist in doing harm he did it eagerly. He was openly envious; but, no matter how malignant he might be, he kept within the limits of the law, – neither beyond it nor behind it, like a parliamentary opposition. He believed his prosperity depended on the ruin of others, and that whoever was above him was an enemy against whom all weapons were good. A character like this is very common among the peasantry.

      Violette’s present business was to obtain from Malin an extension of the lease of his farm, which had only six years longer to run. Jealous of the bailiff’s means, he watched him narrowly. The neighbors reproached him for his intimacy with “Judas”; but the sly old farmer, wishing to obtain a twelve years’ lease, was really lying in wait for an opportunity to serve either the government or Malin, who distrusted Michu. Violette, by the help of the game-keeper of Gondreville and others belonging to the estate, kept Malin informed of all Michu’s actions. Malin had endeavored, fruitlessly, to win over Marianne, the Michus’ servant-woman; but Violette and his satellites heard everything from Gaucher, – a lad on whose fidelity Michu relied, but who betrayed him for cast-off clothing, waistcoats, buckles, cotton socks and sugar-plums. The boy had no suspicion of the importance of his gossip. Violette in his reports blackened all Michu’s actions and gave them a criminal aspect by absurd suggestions, – unknown, of course, to the bailiff, who was aware, however, of the base part played by the farmer, and took delight in mystifying him.

      “You must have a deal of business at Bellache to be here again,” said Michu.

      “Again! is that meant as a reproach, Monsieur Michu? – Hey! I did not know you had that gun. You are not going to whistle for the sparrows on that pipe, I suppose – ”

      “It grew in a field of mine which bears guns,” replied Michu. “Look! this is how I sow them.”

      The bailiff took aim at a viper thirty feet away and cut it in two.

      “Have you got that bandit’s weapon to protect your master?” said Violette. “Perhaps he gave it to you.”

      “He came from Paris expressly to bring it to me,” replied Michu.

      “People are talking all round the neighborhood of this journey of his; some say he is in disgrace and has to retire from office; others that he wants to see things for himself down here. But anyway, why does he come, like the First Consul, without giving warning? Did you know he was coming?”

      “I am not on such terms with him as to be in his confidence.”

      “Then you have not seen him?”

      “I did not know he was here till I got back from my rounds in the forest,” said Michu, reloading his gun.

      “He has sent to Arcis for Monsieur Grevin,” said Violette; “they are scheming something.”

      “If you are going round by Cinq-Cygne, take me up behind you,” said the bailiff. “I’m going there.”

      Violette was too timid to have a man of Michu’s strength on his crupper, and he spurred his beast. Judas slung his gun over his shoulder and walked rapidly up the avenue.

      “Who can it be that Michu is angry with?” said Marthe to her mother.

      “Ever since he heard of Monsieur Malin’s arrival he has been gloomy,” replied the old woman. “But it is getting damp here, let us go in.”

      After the two women had settled themselves in the chimney corner they heard Couraut’s bark.

      “There’s my husband returning!” cried Marthe.

      Michu passed up the stairs; his wife, uneasy, followed him to their bedroom.

      “See if any one is about,” he said to her, in a voice of some emotion.

      “No one,” she replied. “Marianne is in the field with the cow, and Gaucher – ”

      “Where is Gaucher?” he asked.

      “I don’t know.”

      “I distrust that little scamp. Go up in the garret, look in the hay-loft, look everywhere for him.”

      Marthe left the room to obey the order. When she returned she found Michu on his knees, praying.

      “What is the matter?” she said, frightened.

      The bailiff took his wife round the waist and drew her to him, saying in a voice of deep feeling: “If we never see each other again remember, my poor wife, that I loved you well. Follow minutely the instructions which you will find in a letter buried at the foot of the larch in that copse. It is enclosed in a tin tube. Do not touch it until after my death. And remember, Marthe, whatever happens to me, that in spite of man’s injustice, my arm has been the instrument of the justice of God.”

      Marthe, who turned pale by degrees, СКАЧАТЬ