The Guy de Maupassant MEGAPACK ®. Guy de Maupassant

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      “You’re sure you had it on when you left the ball?” he asked.

      “Yes, I felt it in the vestibule of the minister’s house.”

      “But if you had lost it in the street we should have heard it fall. It must be in the cab.”

      “Yes, probably. Did you take his number?”

      “No. And you—didn’t you notice it?”

      “No.”

      They looked, thunderstruck, at each other. At last Loisel put on his clothes.

      “I shall go back on foot,” said he, “over the whole route, to see whether I can find it.”

      He went out. She sat waiting on a chair in her ball dress, without strength to go to bed, overwhelmed, without any fire, without a thought.

      Her husband returned about seven o’clock. He had found nothing.

      He went to police headquarters, to the newspaper offices to offer a reward; he went to the cab companies—everywhere, in fact, whither he was urged by the least spark of hope.

      She waited all day, in the same condition of mad fear before this terrible calamity.

      Loisel returned at night with a hollow, pale face. He had discovered nothing.

      “You must write to your friend,” said he, “that you have broken the clasp of her necklace and that you are having it mended. That will give us time to turn round.”

      She wrote at his dictation.

      At the end of a week they had lost all hope. Loisel, who had aged five years, declared:

      “We must consider how to replace that ornament.”

      The next day they took the box that had contained it and went to the jeweler whose name was found within. He consulted his books.

      “It was not I, madame, who sold that necklace; I must simply have furnished the case.”

      Then they went from jeweler to jeweler, searching for a necklace like the other, trying to recall it, both sick with chagrin and grief.

      They found, in a shop at the Palais Royal, a string of diamonds that seemed to them exactly like the one they had lost. It was worth forty thousand francs. They could have it for thirty-six.

      So they begged the jeweler not to sell it for three days yet. And they made a bargain that he should buy it back for thirty-four thousand francs, in case they should find the lost necklace before the end of February.

      Loisel possessed eighteen thousand francs which his father had left him. He would borrow the rest.

      He did borrow, asking a thousand francs of one, five hundred of another, five louis here, three louis there. He gave notes, took up ruinous obligations, dealt with usurers and all the race of lenders. He compromised all the rest of his life, risked signing a note without even knowing whether he could meet it; and, frightened by the trouble yet to come, by the black misery that was about to fall upon him, by the prospect of all the physical privations and moral tortures that he was to suffer, he went to get the new necklace, laying upon the jeweler’s counter thirty-six thousand francs.

      When Madame Loisel took back the necklace Madame Forestier said to her with a chilly manner:

      “You should have returned it sooner; I might have needed it.”

      She did not open the case, as her friend had so much feared. If she had detected the substitution, what would she have thought, what would she have said? Would she not have taken Madame Loisel for a thief?

      Thereafter Madame Loisel knew the horrible existence of the needy. She bore her part, however, with sudden heroism. That dreadful debt must be paid. She would pay it. They dismissed their servant; they changed their lodgings; they rented a garret under the roof.

      She came to know what heavy housework meant and the odious cares of the kitchen. She washed the dishes, using her dainty fingers and rosy nails on greasy pots and pans. She washed the soiled linen, the shirts and the dishcloths, which she dried upon a line; she carried the slops down to the street every morning and carried up the water, stopping for breath at every landing. And dressed like a woman of the people, she went to the fruiterer, the grocer, the butcher, a basket on her arm, bargaining, meeting with impertinence, defending her miserable money, sou by sou.

      Every month they had to meet some notes, renew others, obtain more time.

      Her husband worked evenings, making up a tradesman’s accounts, and late at night he often copied manuscript for five sous a page.

      This life lasted ten years.

      At the end of ten years they had paid everything, everything, with the rates of usury and the accumulations of the compound interest.

      Madame Loisel looked old now. She had become the woman of impoverished households—strong and hard and rough. With frowsy hair, skirts askew and red hands, she talked loud while washing the floor with great swishes of water. But sometimes, when her husband was at the office, she sat down near the window and she thought of that gay evening of long ago, of that ball where she had been so beautiful and so admired.

      What would have happened if she had not lost that necklace? Who knows? who knows? How strange and changeful is life! How small a thing is needed to make or ruin us!

      But one Sunday, having gone to take a walk in the Champs Elysees to refresh herself after the labors of the week, she suddenly perceived a woman who was leading a child. It was Madame Forestier, still young, still beautiful, still charming.

      Madame Loisel felt moved. Should she speak to her? Yes, certainly. And now that she had paid, she would tell her all about it. Why not?

      She went up.

      “Good-day, Jeanne.”

      The other, astonished to be familiarly addressed by this plain good-wife, did not recognize her at all and stammered:

      “But—madame!—I do not know—You must have mistaken.”

      “No. I am Mathilde Loisel.”

      Her friend uttered a cry.

      “Oh, my poor Mathilde! How you are changed!”

      “Yes, I have had a pretty hard life, since I last saw you, and great poverty—and that because of you!”

      “Of me! How so?”

      “Do you remember that diamond necklace you lent me to wear at the ministerial ball?”

      “Yes. Well?”

      “Well, I lost it.”

      “What do you mean? You brought it back.”

      “I brought you back another exactly like it. And it has taken us ten years to pay for it. You can understand СКАЧАТЬ