The Complete Works: Short Stories, Novels, Plays, Poetry, Memoirs and more. Guy de Maupassant

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СКАЧАТЬ troubling himself about the old people. It seemed to her that one day had wrought this change in him. Was it possible that this was her son, her poor little boy who had helped her to replant the lettuce, this great big bearded youth who had a will of his own!

      For three months Paul came home only occasionally, and always seemed impatient to get away again, trying to steal off an hour earlier each evening. Jeanne was alarmed, but the baron consoled her, saying: “Let him alone; the boy is twenty years old.”

      One morning, however, an old man, poorly dressed, inquired in German-French for “Madame la Vicomtesse,” and after many ceremonious bows, he drew from his pocket a dilapidated pocketbook, saying: “Che un betit bapier bour fous,” and unfolding as he handed it to her a piece of greasy paper. She read and reread it, looked at the Jew, read it over again and asked: “What does it mean?”

      He obsequiously explained: “I will tell you. Your son needed a little money, and as I knew that you are a good mother, I lent him a trifle to help him out.”

      Jeanne was trembling. “But why did he not ask me?” The Jew explained at length that it was a question of a debt that must be paid before noon the following day; that Paul not being of age, no one would have lent him anything, and that his “honor would have been compromised” without this little service that he had rendered the young man.

      Jeanne tried to call the baron, but had not the strength to rise, she was so overcome by emotion. At length she said to the usurer: “Would you have the kindness to ring the bell?”

      He hesitated, fearing some trap, and then stammered out: “If I am intruding, I will call again.” She shook her head in the negative. He then rang, and they waited in silence, sitting opposite each other.

      When the baron came in he understood the situation at once. The note was for fifteen hundred francs. He paid one thousand, saying close to the man’s face: “And on no account come back.” The other thanked him and went his way.

      The baron and Jeanne set out at once for Havre. On reaching the college they learned that Paul had not been there for a month. The principal had received four letters signed by Jeanne saying that his pupil was not well and then to tell how he was getting along. Each letter was accompanied by a doctor’s certificate. They were, of course, all forged. They were all dumbfounded, and stood there looking at each other.

      The principal, very much worried, took them to the commissary of police. Jeanne and her father stayed at a hotel that night. The following day the young man was found in the apartment of a courtesan of the town. His grandfather and mother took him back to “The Poplars” and not a word was exchanged between them during the whole journey.

      A week later they discovered that he had contracted fifteen thousand francs’ worth of debts within the last three months. His creditors had not come forward at first, knowing that he would soon be of age.

      They entered into no discussion about it, hoping to win him back by gentleness. They gave him dainty food, petted him, spoiled him. It was spring and they hired a boat for him at Yport, in spite of Jeanne’s fears, so that he might amuse himself on the water.

      They would not let him have a horse, for fear he should ride to Havre.

      He was there with nothing to do and became irritable and occasionally brutally so. The baron was worried at the discontinuance of his studies. Jeanne, distracted at the idea of a separation, asked herself what they could do with him.

      One evening he did not come home. They learned that he had gone out in a boat with two sailors. His mother, beside herself with anxiety, went down to Yport without a hat in the dark. Some men were on the beach, waiting for the boat to come in. There was a light on board an incoming boat, but Paul was not on board. He had made them take him to Havre.

      The police sought him in vain; he could not be found. The woman with whom he had been found the first time had also disappeared without leaving any trace; her furniture was sold and her rent paid. In Paul’s room at “The Poplars” were found two letters from this person, who seemed to be madly in love with him. She spoke of a voyage to England, having, she said, obtained the necessary funds.

      The three dwellers in the château lived silently and drearily, their minds tortured by all kinds of suppositions. Jeanne’s hair, which had become gray, now turned perfectly white. She asked in her innocence why fate had thus afflicted her.

      She received a letter from the Abbé Tolbiac: “Madame, the hand of God is weighing heavily on you. You refused Him your child; He took him from you in His turn to cast him into the hands of a prostitute. Will not you open your eyes at this lesson from Heaven? God’s mercy is infinite. Perhaps He may pardon you if you return and fall on your knees before Him. I am His humble servant. I will open to you the door of His dwelling when you come and knock at it.”

      She sat a long time with this letter on her lap. Perhaps it was true what the priest said. And all her religious doubts began to torment her conscience. And in her cowardly hesitation, which drives to church the doubting, the sorrowful, she went furtively one evening at twilight to the parsonage, and kneeling at the feet of the thin abbé, begged for absolution.

      He promised her a conditional pardon, as God could not pour down all His favors on a roof that sheltered a man like the baron. “You will soon feel the effects of the divine mercy,” he declared.

      Two days later she did, indeed, receive a letter from her son, and in her discouragement and grief she looked upon this as the commencement of the consolation promised her by the abbé. The letter ran:

      “My Dear Mamma: Do not be uneasy. I am in London, in good health, in very great need of money. We have not a sou left, and we do not have anything to eat some days. The one who is with me, and whom I love with all my heart, has spent all that she had so as not to leave me — five thousand francs — and you see that I am bound in honor to return her this sum in the first place. So I wish you would be kind enough to advance me fifteen thousand francs of papa’s fortune, for I shall soon be of age. This will help me out of very serious difficulties.

      “Good-by, my dear mamma. I embrace you with all my heart, and also grandfather and Aunt Lison. I hope to see you soon.

      “Your son,

      “Vicomte Paul de Lamare.”

      He had written to her! He had not forgotten her then. She did not care anything about his asking for money! She would send him some as long as he had none. What did money matter? He had written to her! And she ran, weeping for joy, to show this letter to the baron. Aunt Lison was called and read over word by word this paper that told of him. They discussed each sentence.

      Jeanne, jumping from the most complete despair to a kind of intoxication of hope, took Paul’s part. “He will come back, he will come back as he has written.”

      The baron, more calm, said: “All the same he left us for that creature, so he must love her better than us, as he did not hesitate about it.”

      A sudden and frightful pang struck Jeanne’s heart, and immediately she was filled with hatred of this woman who had stolen her son from her, an unappeasable, savage hate, the hatred of a jealous mother. Until now all her thoughts had been given to Paul. She scarcely took into consideration that a girl had been the cause of his vagaries. But the baron’s words had suddenly brought before her this rival, had revealed her fatal power, and she felt that between herself and this woman a struggle was about to begin, and she also felt that she would rather lose her son than share his affection with another. And all her joy was at an СКАЧАТЬ