A Parisian Affair and Other Stories. Guy de Maupassant

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      Towards evening Javel, junior, called his comrades and showed them some black spots, all the horrible tokens of mortification in the portion of the arm below the broken bones.

      The sailors examined it, giving their opinion.

      “That might be the ‘Black,’” thought one.

      “He should put salt water on it,” said another.

      They brought some salt water and poured it on the wound. The injured man became livid, ground his teeth and writhed a little, but did not exclaim.

      Then, as soon as the smarting had abated, he said to his brother:

      “Give me your knife.”

      The brother handed it to him.

      “Hold my arm up, quite straight, and pull it.”

      They did as he asked them.

      Then he began to cut off his arm. He cut gently, carefully, severing al the tendons with this blade that was sharp as a razor. And, presently, there was only a stump left. He gave a deep sigh and said:

      “It had to be done. It was done for.”

      He seemed relieved and breathed loud. He then began again to pour water on the stump of arm that remained.

      The sea was still rough and they could not make the shore.

      When the day broke, Javel, junior, took the severed portion of his arm and examined it for a long time. Gangrene had set in. His comrades also examined it and handed it from one to the other, feeling it, turning it over, and sniffing at it.

      “You must throw that into the sea at once,” said his brother.

      But Javel, junior, got angry.

      “Oh, no! Oh, no! I don’t want to. It belongs to me, does it not, as it is my arm?”

      And he took and placed it between his feet.

      “It will putrefy, just the same,” said the older brother. Then an idea came to the injured man. In order to preserve the fish when the boat was long at sea, they packed it in salt, in barrels. He asked:

      “Why can I not put it in pickle?”

      “Why, that’s a fact,” exclaimed the others.

      Then they emptied one of the barrels, which was full from the haul of the last few days; and right at the bottom of the barrel they laid the detached arm. They covered it with salt, and then put back the fish one by one.

      One of the sailors said by way of joke:

      “I hope we do not sell it at auction.”

      And everyone laughed, except the two Javels.

      The wind was still boisterous. They tacked within sight of Boulogne until the following morning at ten o’clock. Young Javel continued to bathe his wound. From time to time he rose and walked from one end to the other of the boat.

      His brother, who was at the tiller, followed him with glances, and shook his head.

      At last they ran into harbor.

      The doctor examined the wound and pronounced it to be in good condition. He dressed it properly and ordered the patient to rest. But Javel would not go to bed until he got back his severed arm, and he returned at once to the dock to look for the barrel which he had marked with a cross.

      It was emptied before him and he seized the arm, which was well preserved in the pickle, had shrunk and was freshened. He wrapped it up in a towel he had brought for the purpose and took it home.

      His wife and children looked for a long time at this fragment of their father, feeling the fingers, and removing the grains of salt that were under the nails. Then they sent for a carpenter to make a little coffin.

      The next day the entire crew of the trawling smack followed the funeral of the detached arm. The two brothers, side by side, led the procession; the parish beadle carried the corpse under his arm.

      Javel, junior, gave up the sea. He obtained a small position on the dock, and when he subsequently talked about his accident, he would say confidentially to his auditors:

      “If my brother had been willing to cut away the net, I should still have my arm, that is sure. But he was thinking only of his property.”

      A Million

      They were a modest middle-class couple. The husband was a government employé and attended strictly to his duties. His name was Léopold Bonnin, and he was a young man whose opinions on every subject were precisely what they should be. He had been brought up in a religious atmosphere, but ever since the Republic had shown a tendency toward a complete separation of Church and State, he had become less strict in his observances. In the office, he would loudly exclaim: “I am religious, in fact, very religious; but only with God; I have no use for the priests.” He laid claim, above all things, to being an upright man and, swelling his chest, went about proclaiming the fact. Of course, he was an upright man in the most commonplace acceptance of the word. He would reach the office on time, leave at the stroke of the hour, despatch his work without dawdling and was always most punctilious about money matters.

      He had wedded the daughter of an impecunious fellow employé, whose sister, however, was wealthy. Married to a rich man, who was deeply in love with her, she had had no children, a fact which had been a great sorrow to both, and consequently she had no one but her niece to whom her fortune might be bequeathed.

      This inheritance was the prevailing preoccupation of the family. It hovered over the household, and even over the government department, in which Bonnin was employed. It was whispered around that “the Bonnins were to inherit a million.”

      The young couple were also childless, a fact which did not distress them in the least, as they were perfectly satisfied with their humdrum, narrow life. Their home was well-kept, clean and thrifty; they were both very placid and calm, and they firmly believed that a child would upset their tranquillity and interfere with their habits.

      They would not have endeavored to remain without heirs; but, since Heaven had not blessed them in that particular respect, they thought it was no doubt for the best.

      The wealthy aunt, however, was not to be consoled, and was profuse with practical advice. Years ago, she had vainly tried a number of methods recommended by clairvoyants and her women friends, and since she had reached the age where all thought of offspring had to be abandoned, she had heard of many more, which she supposed to be unfailing, and which she persisted in revealing to her niece. Every now and then she would inquire: “Well, have you tried what I told you about the other day?”

      Finally she died. The young people experienced a delighted relief which they sought to conceal from themselves as well as from the outside world. Often one’s conscience is garbed in black while the soul sings with joy.

      They were notified that a will had been deposited with a lawyer, and they went to the latter’s office immediately after leaving the church.

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