The Guy de Maupassant MEGAPACK ®. Guy de Maupassant

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СКАЧАТЬ They paid their bill and got up from table. Parent then noticed Limousin. He might have been taken for a retired diplomat, for he looked a man of great importance, with his soft white whiskers, the tips of which touched his coat collar.

      They walked away. Parent rose and followed them. First they went up and down the terrace, and calmly admired the landscape, and then they went. into the forest. Parent followed them at a distance, hiding himself so as not to excite their suspicion too soon.

      Parent came up to them by degrees, breathing hard with emotion and fatigue, for he was unused to walking now. He soon came up to them, but was seized with fear, an inexplicable fear, and he passed them, so as to turn round and meet them face to face. He walked on, his heart beating, feeling that they were just behind him now, and he said to himself: “Come, now is the time. Courage! courage! Now is the moment!”

      He turned round. They were all three sitting on the grass, at the foot of a huge tree, and were still chatting. He made up his mind, and walked back rapidly; stopping in front of them in the middle of the road, he said abruptly, in a voice broken by emotion:

      “It is I! Here I am! I suppose you did not expect me?”

      They all three stared at this man, who seemed to be insane. He continued:

      “One would suppose that you did not know me again. Just look at me! I am Parent, Henri Parent. You thought it was all over, and that you would never see me again. Ah! but here I am once more, you see, and now we will have an explanation.”

      Henriette, terrified, hid her face in her hands, murmuring: “Oh! Good heavens!”

      Seeing this stranger, who seemed to be threatening his mother, George sprang up, ready to seize him by the collar. Limousin, thunderstruck, looked in horror at this apparition, who, after gasping for breath, continued:

      “So now we will have an explanation; the proper moment has come! Ah! you deceived me, you condemned me to the life of a convict, and you thought that I should never catch you!”

      The young man took him by the shoulders and pushed him back.

      “Are you mad?” he asked. “What do you want? Go on your way immediately, or I shall give you a thrashing!”

      “What do I want?” replied Parent. “I want to tell you who these people are.”

      George, however, was in a rage, and shook him; and was even going to strike him.

      “Let me go,” said Parent. “I am your father. There, see whether they recognize me now, the wretches!”

      The young man, thunderstruck, unclenched his fists and turned toward his mother. Parent, as soon as he was released, approached her.

      “Well,” he said, “tell him yourself who I am! Tell him that my name is Henri Parent, that I am his father because his name is George Parent, because you are my wife, because you are all three living on my money, on the allowance of ten thousand francs which I have made you since I drove you out of my house. Will you tell him also why I drove you out? Because I surprised you with this beggar, this wretch, your lover! Tell him what I was, an honorable man, whom you married for money, and whom you deceived from the very first day. Tell him who you are, and who I am—”

      He stammered and gasped for breath in his rage. The woman exclaimed in a heartrending voice:

      “Paul, Paul, stop him; make him be quiet! Do not let him say this before my son!”

      Limousin had also risen to his feet. He said in a very low voice: “Hold your tongue! Hold your tongue! Do you understand what you are doing?”

      “I quite know what I am doing,” resumed Parent, “and that is not all. There is one thing that I will know, something that has tormented me for twenty years.” Then, turning to George, who was leaning against a tree in consternation, he said:

      “Listen to me. When she left my house she thought it was not enough to have deceived me, but she also wanted to drive me to despair. You were my only consolation, and she took you with her, swearing that I was not your father, but, that he was your father. Was she lying? I do not know. I have been asking myself the question for the last twenty years.” He went close up to her, tragic and terrible, and, pulling away her hands, with which she had covered her face, he continued:

      “Well, now! I call upon you to tell me which of us two is the father of this young man; he or I, your husband or your lover. Come! Come! tell us.”

      Limousin rushed at him. Parent pushed him back, and, sneering in his fury, he said: “Ah! you are brave now! You are braver than you were that day when you ran downstairs because you thought I was going to murder you. Very well! If she will not reply, tell me yourself. You ought to know as well as she. Tell me, are you this young fellow’s father? Come! Come! Tell me!”

      He turned to his wife again. “If you will not tell me, at any rate tell your son. He is a man, now, and he has the right to know who his father is. I do not know, and I never did know, never, never! I cannot tell you, my boy.”

      He seemed to be losing his senses; his voice grew shrill and he worked his arms about as if he had an epileptic ‘fit.

      “Come!… Give me an answer. She does not know… I will make a bet that she does not know… No…she does not know, by Jove! Ha! ha! ha! Nobody knows…nobody… How can one know such things?

      “You will not know either, my boy, you will not know any more than I do…never.… Look here… Ask her you will find that she does not know… I do not know either…nor does he, nor do you, nobody knows. You can choose… You can choose…yes, you can choose him or me… Choose.

      “Good evening… It is all over. If she makes up her mind to tell you, you will come and let me know, will you not? I am living at the Hotel des Continents… I should be glad to know… Good evening… I hope you will enjoy yourselves very much…”

      And he went away gesticulating, talking to himself under the tall trees, in the quiet, the cool air, which was full of the fragrance of growing plants. He did not turn round to look at them, but went straight on, walking under the stimulus of his rage, under a storm of passion, with that one fixed idea in his mind. All at once he found himself outside the station. A train was about to start and he got in. During the journey his anger calmed down, he regained his senses and returned to Paris, astonished at his own boldness, full of aches and pains as if he had broken some bones. Nevertheless, he went to have a “bock” at his brewery.

      When she saw him come in, Mademoiselle Zoe asked in surprise: “What! back already? are you tired?”

      “Yes—yes, I am tired…very tired… You know, when one is not used to going out… I’ve had enough of it. I shall not go into the country again. It would have been better to have stayed here. For the future, I shall not stir out.”

      She could not persuade him to tell her about his little excursion, much as she wished to.

      For the first time in his life he got thoroughly drunk that night, and had to be carried home.

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