"You are a downright bashaw, my friend," said my aunt to Huriel,
giving him a push away from Brulette, whom he had approached in much
excitement. Then, taking her niece's hands, she soothed her and
asked her very gently to tell her the real meaning of it all.
"If your grandfather were here," she said, "he would explain what
there is between you and this stranger lad, and we could then leave
the matter to his judgment; but since I am here now as father and
mother both, you must confide in me. Do you wish me to put an end to
this pursuit? Shall I, instead of inviting this brute, or this
rogue,--for I don't know which to call him,--tell him that he must
let you alone?"
"Exactly," said Huriel, "that's what I want. I want her to say what
she wishes, and I will obey her without anger, and she shall still
retain my friendship and respect. If she thinks me a brute or a
rogue let her pack me off. Speak, Brulette; I shall always be your
friend and servant,--you know that very well."
"Be what you will," said Brulette at last, rising and giving him her
hand; "you protected me in danger, and you have suffered such
troubles on my account that I neither can nor will refuse so little a
thing as to dance with you as much as you like."
"But think what your aunt has said," replied Huriel, holding her
hand. "You will be talked of, and if nothing good comes of it
between us, which on your side may still be, any plan you may have
for another marriage would be destined or delayed."
"Well, that is a less danger than the one you threw yourself into on
my account," said Brulette. "Aunt, please excuse me," she added, "if
I cannot explain matters just now; but believe that your niece loves
and respects you, and will never give you reason to blush for her."
"I am certain of that," said my aunt; "but what answer am I to give
to the questions they will be sure to ask?"
"None at all, aunt," said Brulette, resolutely. "I can afford to put
up with all their talk; you know I am in the habit of doing so."
"Thank you, darling of my heart!" cried Huriel, kissing her hand six
or seven times. "You shall never repent what you have granted to me."
"Are you coming, you obstinate fellow?" said my aunt; "I can't stay
away any longer, and if I don't carry Brulette down there at once,
the bride is capable of leaving the wedding and coming after her."
"Go down, Brulette!" cried Thérence, "and leave the baby with me; I
promise I will take care of him."
"Won't you come, too, my handsome Bourbonnaise?" said my aunt, who
could not keep her eyes off Thérence, "I count upon you."
"I will go later, my good woman," replied Thérence. "But just now I
want to give my brother suitable clothes in which to do honor to your
invitation; for, as you see, we are still in our travelling things."
My aunt carried off Brulette, who wanted to take Charlot; but
Thérence insisted on keeping him, wishing to leave her brother free
with his darling without the trouble and annoyance of a small child.
This was not at all satisfactory to Charlot, who set up a yell when
he saw that Brulette was leaving him, and fought with all his
strength in Thérence's arms; but she, looking at him with a grave and
determined manner, said quietly:--
"You must be quiet, my boy; you must, you know."
Charlot, who had never been ordered in his life, was so astonished at
her tone that he gave in immediately; but as I saw that Brulette was
distressed at leaving him with a girl who had never in her life
touched a baby, I promised to bring him to her myself if there should
be the least trouble, and persuaded her to go with our good little
aunt who was getting impatient.
Huriel, urged by his sister, went off to his room to shave and dress,
and I, left alone with Thérence, helped her to unpack her boxes and
shake out the clothes, while Charlot, quite subdued, stood, with open
mouth, looking on. When I had carried Huriel the clothes which
Thérence piled on my arms, I returned to ask if she didn't mean to
dress herself too, and to offer to take the child to walk while she
did so.
"As for me," she said, laying out her finery on her bed, "I will go
if Brulette worries after me; but I will admit that if she would only
forget me for a time, I would prefer to stay quietly here. In any
case, I can be ready in a minute, and I need no one to escort me. I
am accustomed to hunt up and get ready our lodgings in travelling,
like a regular quartermaster on a campaign, and nothing disturbs me
wherever I am."
"Then you don't like dancing?" I said; "or is it shyness at making
new acquaintances that makes you wish to stay at home?"
"No, I don't like dancing," she replied; "nor the racket, nor the
suppers, and particularly not the waste of time which brings
weariness."
"But one doesn't love dancing for dancing's sake only. Do you fear,
or dislike, the attentions the young men pay to the girls?"
"No, I have neither fear nor repugnance," she said, simply. "It does
not amuse me, that is all. I am not witty, like Brulette. I don't
know how to answer patly, nor how to make other people talk, and I
can't be amusing. I am stupid and dreamy, and I am as much out of
place in a lively company as a wolf or a fox at a dance."
"You don't look like a wolf nor any other villanous beast, and you
dance as gracefully as the willow branches when the breeze caresses
them--"
I don't know what more I was going to say, when Huriel came out of
his room, handsome as the sun and more in a hurry to get off than I
was, for I should have been just as satisfied to stay with his
sister. She kept him a moment to straighten his cravat and to tie
his garters at the knee, apparently not thinking him jaunty enough to
dance through the wedding with Brulette, and as she did so she said:
"Tell me, why were you so jealous of her dancing with any one but
you? Were not you afraid of frightening her with such masterful
orders?"
"Tiennet!" exclaimed Huriel, stopping short in what he was doing, and
taking Charlot, whom he placed on the table and gazed at with all his
eyes, "Whose child is this?"
Thérence, astonished, first asked him what he meant by the question,
and then asked me why I did not answer it.
We looked each other in the eyes, like three dolts, and I would have
given all I had to know how to answer, for I saw that a sword was
hanging over our heads. At last, recollecting the virtue and truth I
had seen that very afternoon in my cousin's eyes when I had pretty
nigh asked her the same question, I plucked up courage and going
straight to the point I said to Huriel, "Comrade, if you ask that
question in our village many persons will tell you he is Brulette's
child--"
He did not let me say more; but picking up the boy, he felt him and
turned him over as a hunter examines a head of game. Fearing his
anger, I tried to take the child from him; but he held him firmly,
saying:--
"No fear for the poor innocent thing; my heart is not bad, and if I
saw any resemblance to her I might not be able to refrain from
kissing him, though I should hate the fate that brought me to it.
But there is no such resemblance; my blood runs neither the hotter
nor the colder with this child in my arms."
"Tiennet, Tiennet, answer him," cried Thérence, as if waking from a
dream. "Answer me, too, for I don't know what all this means, and it
makes me wild to think of it. There is no stain on our family and if
my father believed--"
Huriel cut her short. "Wait, sister," he said; "a word too much is
soon said. It is for Tiennet to speak. Come, Tiennet, you who are
an honest man, tell me--one--two--whose child is that?"
"I swear to God I don't know," I answered.
"If it were hers, you would know?"
"I think she could not have hidden it from me."
"Did she ever hide anything else?"
"Never."
"Does she know the parents of the child?"
"Yes, but she will not even let me question her about them."
"Does she deny the child is hers?"
"No one has ever dared to ask her."
"Not even you?"
Thereupon I related in a few words what I knew, and what I believed,
and finished by saying: "I can find no proof for or against Brulette;
but, for the life of me, I cannot doubt her."
"Nor I either!" said Huriel, and kissing Charlot, he set him on the
floor.
"Nor I either!" exclaimed Thérence, "but why should this idea have
come into people's heads? Why into yours, brother, as soon as you
looked at the child? I did not even think of asking whether it were
Brulette's nephew or cousin; I thought it must belong to the family,
and seeing it in her arms made me wish to take it in mine."
"I see I must explain," said Huriel, "though the words will scorch my
mouth. But no," he added, "I would rather tell it! it will be the
first and the last time, for my mind is made up, whatever the truth
may be, and whatever happens. You must know, Thérence, that three
days ago, when we were parting with Joseph at Montaigu--and you know
with what a light heart I left him! he was cured, he gave her up, he
asked you in marriage, and Brulette was still free! He knew she was,
and said so, and when I spoke of her he answered, 'Do what you like,
I no longer love her; you can love her without hurting me.' Well,
sister, at the very moment we were parting, Joseph caught me by the
arm as you were getting into the cart, and said, 'Is it true, Huriel,
that you are going into our parts; and that you mean to court the
girl I loved so well?'"
"Yes," I answered, "since you ask me, that is my intention; and you
have no right to change your mind, or I shall think you were tricking
us when you asked for my sister in marriage."
"'I was not,'" replied Joseph, "'but I should feel I was deceiving
you now if I allowed you to leave without telling you a miserable
thing. God is my witness that these words should never have left my
lips against a person whose father brought me up, if you were not on
the point of taking a false step. But your father has also brought
me up, educating my mind just as the other fed and clothed my body,
and I am forced to tell you the truth. Huriel, at the time when I
left Brulette with my heart full of love, she had already, without my
knowledge, loved another man, and to-day there is a living proof of
it which she does not even take the trouble to hide. Now, then, do
as you please; I shall think no more about her.' So saying, Joseph
turned his back on me and went into the woods. He looked so wild
that I, with my heart full of faith and love, accused him in my
thoughts of madness and wicked anger. You remember, sister, that you
thought me ill as we drove that day to the village of Huriel. When
we got there you found two letters from Brulette, and I found three
from Tiennet, which our friends there had neglected to send on in
spite of their promises. Those letters were so simple, so
affectionate, and showed such truth in every word, that I said to
myself, 'I will go!' and Joseph's words went out of my mind like a
bad dream. I was ashamed for him, and would not remember them. And
then, just now, when I saw Brulette, with that look of hers, so
gentle, so modest, that charmed me so in the old days, I swear to God
I had forgotten all as though it had never happened. The sight of
the child killed me! And that was why I was resolved to know if
Brulette were free to love me. She is; because she has promised to
expose herself for my sake to the criticisms and neglect of others.
Well, as she is now tied to no one--even if there be a fault in
her--whether I believe it a little or not at all--whether she
confesses or explains it--it is all one; I love her!"
"Would you love a degraded girl?" cried Thérence. "No, no, think of
your father, of your sister! Don't go to this wedding; wait till we
know the truth. I don't distrust Brulette, I don't believe in
Joseph. I am sure that Brulette is spotless, but she must say so;
she must do more, she must prove it. Go and fetch her, Tiennet. Let
her explain this thing at once, before my brother takes one of those
steps from which an honest man cannot back down."
"You shall not go, Tiennet," said Huriel, "I forbid you. If, as I
believe, Brulette is as innocent as my sister Thérence, she shall not
be subjected to the insult of that question before I have openly
pledged my word to her."
"Think it over, brother," said Thérence, again urging him.
"Sister," said Huriel, "you forget one thing; if Brulette has done a
wrong thing, I have committed a crime; if love betrayed her into
bringing a child into the world, anger betrayed me into sending a man
out of it." Then as Thérence still remonstrated, he added, kissing
her and pushing her aside, "Enough, enough; I need pardon before I
judge of others; did I not kill a man?"
So saying he rushed off without waiting for me, and I saw him running
towards the bride's house, where the smoke of the chimney and the
uproar within bespoke the wedding feast.
"Ah!" said Thérence, following him with her eyes, "My poor brother
cannot forget his misfortune, and perhaps he will never be comforted."
"He will be comforted, Thérence," I replied, "when he sees how the
girl he loves loves him; I'll answer for her loving him, and in times
past, too."
"I think so too, Tiennet; but suppose she were unworthy of him?"
"My beautiful Thérence, are you so stern that you would think it a
mortal sin if a misfortune happened to a mere child,--and, who knows?
perhaps ignorantly or by force?"
"It is not the misfortune or the fault I should blame so much as the
lies told and acted, and the behavior that followed. If at the first
your cousin had said openly to my brother, 'Do not court me, for I
have been betrayed,' I could understand that he might have forgiven
all to such an honest confession. But to let him court her and
admire her so much without saying a word! Come, Tiennet, tell me, do
you really know nothing about it? Can't you at least guess or
imagine something to set my mind at ease? I do so love Brulette that
I haven't the courage to condemn her. And yet, what will my father
say if he thinks I might have saved Huriel from such a danger?"
"Thérence, I know nothing and can tell you nothing, except that now,
less than ever, do I doubt Brulette; for, if you wish me to tell you
the only person whom I could possibly suspect of abusing her, and on
whom public suspicion fell with some slight appearance of reason, I
must honestly say it was Joseph, who now seems to me, after what your
brother told us, to be as white as the driven snow. Now there is but
one other person who, to my knowledge, was, I will not say capable,
but in a position to use his friendship for Brulette to lead her
wrong. And that is I. Do you believe I did, Thérence? Look me in
the eyes before you answer. No one has accused me of it, that I know
of, but I might be the sinner all the same, and you don't know me
well enough yet to be sure of my honesty and good faith. That is why
I say to you, look in my face and see if falsehood and cowardice are
at home there."
Thérence did as I told her, and looked at me, without showing the
least embarrassment; then she said:--
"No, Tiennet, it is not in you to lie like that. If you are
satisfied about Brulette, I will be too. Come, my lad, now go off to
the dance; I don't want you here any longer."
"Yes, you do," I said; "that child is going to plague you. He is not
amiable with persons he does not know, and I would like either to
carry him off or help you to take care of him."
"Not amiable, isn't he?" said Thérence, taking him on her knee.
"Bah! what difficulty is therein managing a little monkey like that?
I never tried, but I don't believe there is much art in it. Come, my
young man, what do you want? Don't you want something to eat?"
"No," said Charlot, who was sulky without daring to show it.
"Well, just as you like. When you want your broth you can ask for
it. I'll give you all you want, and even play with you, if you get
tired. Say, do you want me to play with you?"
"No," said Charlot, frowning fiercely.
"Very good; then play alone," said Thérence, quietly, setting him on
the floor. "I am going into the courtyard to see the pretty little
black horse."
She moved to go; Charlot wept; Thérence pretended not to hear him
till he came to her. "Dear me! what's the matter?" she said, as if
surprised; "make haste and tell me, for I am going,--I can't wait."
"I want to see the pretty little black horse," sobbed Charlot.
"Then come along; but stop crying, for he runs away when he hears
children cry."
Charlot choked down his sobs, and went off to stroke and admire the
_clairin_.
"Should you like to get on him?" asked Thérence.
"No, I'm afraid."
"I'll hold you."
"No, I'm afraid."
"Very good, then don't get on."
In a minute more he wanted to.
"No," said Thérence, "you'll be afraid."
"No."
"Yes, you will."
"No, no!" said Charlot.
She put him on the horse and led it along, holding the child very
carefully. After watching them a little while, I saw that Charlot's
whims could not hold out against so quiet a will as Thérence's. She
had discovered the way to manage a troublesome child at her first
attempt, though it had taken Brulette a year of patience and
weariness; but it really seemed as if the good God had made Thérence
a mother without an apprenticeship. She had guessed the astuteness
and decision needed, and practised them without worrying herself, or
feeling surprised or impatient at anything.
Charlot, who had thought himself master of everybody, was much
astonished to find that with her he was only master of the power to
sulk, and as she did not trouble herself about that, he soon saw it
was trouble wasted. At the end of half an hour he became quite
pleasant, asking for what he wanted, and making haste to accept
whatever was offered to him. Thérence gave him something to eat; and
I admired how, out of her own judgment, she knew just what quantity
to give him, not too much nor yet too little, and how to keep him
occupied beside her while she was occupied in her own affairs,
talking with him as if he were a reasonable being, and treating the
imp with such confidence that, without seeming to question him, he
soon ran over all his little tales, which he usually required much
begging to do when others tried to make him. He even took such
pleasure in her and was so proud of knowing how to converse that he
got impatient at not knowing the words he wanted, and so invented
some to express his meaning,--and they were not at all silly or
meaningless either.
"What are you doing here, Tiennet?" she said to me suddenly, as if to
let me know she thought I had been there long enough.
As I had already invented about fifty little reasons for staying on,
her question took me short, and I could think of nothing to say
except that I was occupied in looking at her. "Does that amuse you?"
she exclaimed.
"I don't know," I answered; "You might as well ask the wheat if it
likes to grow in the sunshine."
"Oh, oh! so you are getting mischievous and turning compliments, are
you? but please remember it is lost time with me, for I know nothing
about them and can't make any reply."
"I don't know anything about them either, Thérence. All that I meant
to say was that to my mind there is nothing so beautiful and saintly
as a young girl taking pleasure in a child's prattle."
"Is not that natural?" said Thérence. "It seems to me that I get to
the truth of the things of the good God when I look at that little
fellow and talk with him. I feel that I do not live, usually, as a
woman ought to like to live; but I did not choose my own lot, and the
wandering life I lead is my duty, because I am the support and
happiness of my dear father. Therefore I never complain, and never
wish for a life which would not be his; only I can understand the
happiness of others; for instance, that of Brulette with her Charlot,
whether he be her own or just the good God's, would be very sweet to
me. I have not often had a chance to enjoy such amusement, so I take
it when I find it. Yes, I like the company of this little man, and I
had no idea he was so clever and knew so much."
"And yet, dear, Charlot is only tolerable because Brulette has taken
such pains with him; he will have to improve very much before he is
as amiable as the children God sends good into the world."
"You surprise me," said Thérence. "If there are nicer children than
he it must be very pleasant to live with them. But now, that's
enough, Tiennet. Go away; or they will send after you, and then they
will ask me to go too; and that would, I confess, annoy me, for I am
tired, and would much rather stay quietly here with the little one."
I had to obey; and I departed with my heart full, and topsy-turvy
with ideas that suddenly came into my head about that girl.