for the misfortunes which were daily occurring there, M. and Madame
de la Fère would not depress the spirits of their children, by
recurring to events over which they had no control; but on the
contrary, they procured for them such pleasures as were compatible
with their situation. They had somewhat prolonged their journey, in
order to show them various interesting objects situated at a short
distance from their route, and had been settled in the town in which
they intended to reside only a few days, when their host, M. Fiddler,
spoke of a rather curious kind of fair which was then being held at
some distance from that place. They hired one of the carriages of the
country, and wishing to take advantage of the opportunity which the
occasion afforded of enjoying the scenery of the neighbourhood, which
was very beautiful, they set out early, carrying with them sufficient
provisions to enable them to pass the whole day in the fields. It
was in the month of June; they prolonged their walks so much, that
it was ten o'clock in the evening when they reached town. They were
surprised, on arriving, to find that the servant, whom they had left
in the house, did not come to assist them. They supposed that he must
have gone to the fair on his own account, together with the maid,
whom they also called for in vain. They were at a loss to get in, as
the door of the house was locked, M. Fiddler having also gone to the
fair. At last, a little boy who had been left in charge of it, and
who likewise had been amusing himself, came back, opened the door,
and procured a light from a neighbour, who presented to M. de la Fère
a letter which had arrived during his absence. M. de la Fère stopped
to read it, and then entered the house, so completely absorbed, that
he did not notice the exclamations of distress which were uttered by
his wife and children. At last they ran to him, spoke to him, roused
him from his abstraction, and showed him all their cupboards open
and emptied, the secretary forced, and their money and jewels carried
off: there was nothing left. Roch and the maid, who had also been
taken without sufficient inquiry, and who was an equally ill-disposed
person, had several times, during their journey, given them cause for
distrusting them, and it was their intention to send them back to
France. They had apparently suspected this intention, and profited
by their absence to rob them. This they could very easily do, as the
pavilion, which was the part of the residence occupied by M. and
Madame de la Fère, was separated from the rest of the house, and on
one side opened upon the fields. On this side, the open doors and
windows showed traces of their flight; but there was no possibility
of following them at that hour, nor any hope of otherwise arresting
them. The town was situated on the frontiers of two small German
states, and there was no doubt that they had entered the neighbouring
one, as, from several circumstances which were then recollected, it
might be presumed that they had taken their precautions beforehand.
However, M. de la Fère went to the magistrate of the town to lodge
his complaints, and to take the necessary proceedings.
When he returned, his family had not yet had time to recover from
their consternation. Juliette was crying, and her mother, though
herself overwhelmed with grief, was endeavouring to soothe her;
Raymond, who understood German, was talking to M. Fiddler, who
hearing of their misfortune on his return from the fair, had hastened
with great kindness to offer them his assistance. All this Raymond
communicated to his mother and sister. M. de la Fère also thanked him
in German, for M. Fiddler did not understand French, and told him
that though they had indeed experienced a most serious misfortune, he
hoped, nevertheless, that they would be able to extricate themselves
from it; and M. Fiddler, who was very considerate, fearing to be
importunate, immediately retired.
When they were alone, assembled round a candle which M. Fiddler had
lent them, M. de la Fère, after tenderly embracing his wife and
children, made them sit down by him, and remained for some time
silent, as if he knew not what to say to them.
At length Raymond, who had heard his father's reply to M. Fiddler,
broke the silence.
"Papa," he said, "you told M. Fiddler that we should be able to
extricate ourselves from our difficulties; does the letter, which you
have just received, say that money will be sent to us from France?"
"On the contrary, my child."
"What! on the contrary?" exclaimed Madame de la Fère, with a movement
of alarm. Her husband pressed her hand, and she restrained herself.
He had accustomed her to preserve her self-command in the presence of
their children, in order not to give them exaggerated ideas of what
might happen to them.
"My beloved friends," continued M. de la Fère, taking his daughter
on his knees, and retaining the hand of his wife within his own,
"we must not rely, at least for a very long time to come, on any
assistance from France; for all our property is seized, and God only
knows when we shall regain possession of it."
Madame de la Fère turned pale, but said nothing. Juliette wept and
trembled, and Raymond, leaning on the back of a chair, listened
attentively to his father, whose calm and firm manner completely
reassured him. M. de la Fère continued--
"Of all our effects there remains absolutely nothing, but what we
have upon us, and a small trunk of linen, which I see in the corner
there, and which they seem to have forgotten. Of all our money, there
remains but this louis d'or," said he, holding it up, "which I had in
my pocket."
"Good heavens," exclaimed Juliette, in a tone of despair, "what will
become of us?"
Her father pressed her in his arms. "Have a little patience, sister,"
said Raymond, quickly. He saw that his father had something to
propose, and whatever it might be, he was eager to execute it. M. de
la Fère continued--
"A louis, my dears, may still become a resource, provided one knows
how to turn it to account. We cannot live without work: we must,
therefore, find the means of working."
Madame de la Fère replied, that she and her daughter could embroider,
and that M. Fiddler would be able to recommend them in the town.
"Yes," replied M. de la Fère, "but that is not sufficient. Before
these recommendations have produced their effect, before we receive
work, and before that work is finished, our louis d'or may very
easily be spent; and my watch, which is the only thing left us that
we can sell, for they have taken Raymond's, will not afford us a very
considerable resource: we must, therefore, devise some plan for not
exhausting too rapidly our means of existence."
Juliette said that M. Fiddler, who had so kindly offered his aid,
would be able to assist them until their work afforded them the means
of living.
"We must only accept assistance from others," said M. de la Fère,
"when we can do absolutely nothing for ourselves. Do you feel the
courage to impose upon yourselves, for one week only, the most severe
privations?"
All answered "Yes!" "Even if it be to live on bread and water,"
said Raymond. M. de la Fère pressed his son's hand with an air of
satisfaction. But Juliette turned towards her father with a somewhat
terrified expression, and Madame de la Fère looked first upon her
husband, and then upon her children, and could not restrain a few
tears. M. de la Fère, making a great effort to preserve his firmness,
said to them:
"Listen, my dears, and I hope you will agree with me, that a week's
courage is a very trifling matter, if it can insure our preservation.
This is my calculation. Our rent is paid three months in advance. We
have in the trunk as much linen as we shall want for three weeks,
without requiring anything washed; as it is summer, we shall not need
any fire; the days being long, if we get up and go to bed with the
sun, there will be no necessity for candles; thus, without expending
anything, we are secured on all these points, from all suffering, and
indeed from every real inconvenience, for more than a week. We have
only our food to pay for. In limiting ourselves for a week only to
what is absolutely necessary,--to bread, my dear Juliette," said he,
tenderly embracing his daughter, whom he still held upon his knee,
"it will be possible for us to employ a part of this louis on the
purchase of materials to enable you to embroider, and myself and
Raymond to paint boxes and screens, and various other things which M.
Fiddler doubtless will enable us to sell. In a week we shall probably
have gained something by our labour. If we are compelled to wait
longer, I have still my watch, and I will answer for it, that before
its price is expended, we shall be free from anxiety."
Raymond, animated by the manner in which his father pronounced these
words, embraced his mother, and then his sister, who was still
weeping a little. "Consider, Juliette," he said, "a week is so soon
over!"
Hitherto, indeed, Raymond had always been much more of an epicure
than his sister, and much more eager in the pursuit of what pleased
him; but at the same time, he had more determination, and was
better able to make a sacrifice, where any great object was to be
attained. Besides, the present moment had inspired him with what a
great misfortune ought always to inspire a man--an increased amount
of sense and courage; whilst Juliette, on the contrary, somewhat
overcome by the fatigues of the day, had not been able to recover
from the surprise and terror of the first moment. Their ill-lighted
room gave her melancholy impressions, everything seemed dark around
her, and she felt excessively unhappy, without being exactly able
to tell why. The caresses of her parents calmed her a little;
her mother made her go to bed, and she soon sunk into that sound
sleep which grief usually produces at her age; and on awakening the
following morning, she felt entirely reanimated. Her mother had
already made the purchases necessary for commencing work. It had been
the fashion in France, for some time before their departure, to wear
lawn handkerchiefs, embroidered in coloured silks; and this custom,
though now rather antiquated, had not yet reached the town in which
they were residing, although its inhabitants affected to follow the
French fashions. She bought sufficient lawn for a handkerchief,
silks to embroider it, and some card-board and colours for her
husband and son. These cost rather less than fourteen francs; the
remaining ten were carefully reserved for the maintenance of the
family. Madame de la Fère felt her heart a little oppressed when she
beheld this trifling sum, but the recollection of the watch gave her
confidence that her children would not want for bread; and besides,
accustomed to rely upon her husband, of whose courage and firmness
she was well aware, so long as she saw him tranquil, she could not
feel very uneasy. As M. de la Fère was returning with the bread he
had purchased for the family, he met M. Fiddler, who expressed his
grief for the inconveniences which he suffered, and once more offered
his services. M. de la Fère again thanked him, promising that if he
really stood in need of assistance, it would be to him that he would
apply; and M. Fiddler, being a man of the greatest discretion, did
not press the matter further.
When Juliette entered the room in which the family was assembled, she
found her mother and Raymond already occupied in arranging an old
embroidery-frame, which they had found in a corner of the apartment,
while M. de la Fère was drawing upon the piece of lawn, the wreath
with which it was to be embroidered. The sun shone brilliantly
into the apartment, which looked out upon a magnificent landscape,
and Juliette, forgetting the troubles of the previous evening, set
herself gaily to assist her mother and brother. The wreath was soon
drawn, the frame soon mounted; the tasks were distributed, and
each commenced his labour. During this time, M. de la Fère began
to design the ornaments for a work-box, whilst Raymond, who was
tolerably adroit, cut and gummed the card-board, and even assisted
his father in the less difficult ornaments. After working for some
time, Juliette began to feel hungry. She was afraid to say anything
as yet; Raymond, however, having asked his father if it was not time
for breakfast, opened a cupboard in which the bread had been placed,
and exclaimed, laughing, "Behold our week's provisions!" then he cut
for his mother and sister some slices of bread, which he assured
them had been selected with great care. As to himself, he separated
his own into five or six pieces, calling one a cutlet, another a
leg of mutton, and so on. This made them laugh, and thenceforth
they constantly amused themselves, while eating their bread, with
bestowing upon it the names of the most refined dishes.
Although Madame de la Fère often made Juliette leave her work and
walk with her brother in the road that passed beneath their windows,
yet in three days the handkerchief was embroidered, and M. de la
Fère, on his part, had completed a box, the top of which, painted in
bistre, represented one of the points of view to be seen from his
window, while the sides were ornamented with arabesques, also in
bistre. M. Fiddler, to whom M. and Madame de la Fère had communicated
their determination of living by their labour, recommended them to a
lady in the town, the only one who understood French. Madame de la
Fère called upon her, accompanied by Juliette, who although somewhat
ashamed at being presented under such circumstances, nevertheless
felt a certain degree of pride, in thinking that her work should be
of some consequence. The German lady, to whom M. Fiddler had related
their misfortunes, received them with great kindness. She purchased
the handkerchief, at the price of a louis, in the money of the
country, and also the work-box for twelve francs, and told Madame
de la Fère that she would enable her to sell others. They returned
delighted. "Mamma," said Juliette, on their way home, "since we
have been so successful, I think for to-day at least, we might have
something to eat with our bread."
Madame de la Fère replied that that must depend upon her father; but
when, after relating their success, Juliette renewed her proposition;
"My dears," said M. de la Fère, looking at his children, for Raymond
had listened to his sister's proposition with great attention,
"if we break our fast to-day, it will be more difficult to keep
it to-morrow, and if we do not maintain it until the end of the
week, the fruit of our courage will be lost, for we shall still be
inconvenienced to purchase the materials necessary for continuing
our labours; whereas our having a little in advance will make us
quite comfortable."
"Come," said Raymond, running to the cupboard, and cutting a large
slice of bread, "here is my sturgeon pasty for this day."
"My dear Juliette," said M. de la Fère to his daughter, who seemed a
little sad, "it is merely an advice which I have given you. The money
which we possess is in part gained by your labour, and it would be
unjust to prevent you from spending it according to your fancy; if
you wish; we will give you your share, and you can do what you please
with it." Juliette threw her arms round her father's neck, and told
him that she always wished to do as he did, and whatever he pleased;
and the money was immediately employed in purchasing new materials.
If Juliette had rather more difficulty, on this day, and the
following ones, in eating her bread, to which her brother in vain
gave the most tempting names, she consoled herself by calculating
with her mother, the number of hours, of minutes even, which must
intervene before the close of the last day; and then how many
minutes were required to work a flower. This shortened the time;
for when Juliette had not finished her task in the period which she
had allotted to it, she found the time pass much too quickly. She
was greatly delighted that the watch had not been sold, and felt a
certain pride in thinking that they might be able to preserve it by
their industry.
As constant work suggests methods of abridging labour, they this
time finished, in five days, two handkerchiefs and three boxes, and
to complete their happiness, on the evening of the eighth day, the
German lady sent to inquire if any more were ready. She had given a
party on the previous evening; her handkerchief had been admired;
she had shown her box also, and several of her friends expressed a
wish to purchase similar articles of both kinds. When Madame de la
Fère and her daughter called upon her the following morning, she
not only took all that were finished, but gave orders for a fresh
supply. Juliette could not contain her joy. She had eaten her dry
bread very cheerfully before starting, thinking that, according to
all appearances, they would have a better dinner; and now on their
return, she assisted her mother in preparing it; she could never have
believed it possible for her to have experienced so much pleasure as
she now felt, in peeling onions, touching greasy spoons, or broiling
herself in skimming saucepans, on a hot summer's day. Her mother
wished that, for this day, she should entirely lay aside all other
work. Raymond and she, therefore, passed the morning in laughing till
tears came into their eyes, at the thousand absurdities which their
joy prompted them to utter; and M. and Madame de la Fère, delighted
at seeing them so happy, forgot for a time that they had ever
experienced sorrow.
With what delight Juliette helped her brother to set the table,
to lay the cloth, to place the covers and plates lent them by M.
Fiddler. Just at the moment that she was about to serve up the
dinner, she heard exclamations of joy from Raymond, who came running
to tell her that the Chevalier de Villon, an old friend of his
father, whom they had not seen for several years, as he had left
France a long time before them, had just arrived in the town, and was
coming to dine with them. "How fortunate!" said Raymond, "that he did
not come yesterday;" and he ran out to rejoin the chevalier.
"He comes to diminish our dinner," said Juliette, in a tone of ill
temper, which she was not able to control; for it seemed to her
that the least alteration must interfere with the happiness she
anticipated.
"Juliette," said her mother, "if during the past week you had found a
friend, who was willing to share his dinner with you, you would have
been very glad, even though you thought that he would thereby deprive
himself of something."
"It is because I think M. de Villon does not stand in need of it,"
said Juliette, completely ashamed of what she had said. At this
moment the chevalier entered, his clothes in rags, and himself so
pale and so thin, that Madame de la Fère, on beholding him, could not
suppress a cry of grief; as for him, with his Gascon vivacity, he ran
to embrace her.
"You see," said he, "to what I am reduced. This is _now_ the uniform
of a French gentleman, my dear Madame. Why I am not sure that I have
eaten anything these two days."
Madame de la Fère turned to Juliette, who with a supplicating look
seemed to entreat her to forget what she had said. The chevalier sat
down, for he could scarcely stand; nevertheless his gaiety never
forsook him, as long as his strength remained; but they felt that
it was sinking with every sentence. Juliette laid a cover for him,
and placed a chair at the table, for he was so much fatigued that
he seemed scarcely able to move. When the soup was served, and the
chevalier, with his accustomed politeness, wished to pass to her the
first plate, she entreated him to keep it with so much earnestness,
that he could not refuse. She then raised her eyes to her mother as
if to ask forgiveness: Madame de la Fère smiled, and joy returned
to Juliette's heart. She was at length helped in her turn, and
thought she had never enjoyed anything so much; while Raymond, who,
until then, fancied he disliked carrots and turnips, did not leave
a single bit of them upon his plate. A piece of beef, and a dish of
vegetables, appeared to all this family a magnificent repast. How
happy the poor chevalier felt, at finding himself once more seated,
and at table, and in the midst of his friends! How he amused Raymond
and Juliette, by relating his campaigns and adventures! M. Fiddler,
knowing that M. de la Fère had a friend to dinner, had requested
permission to send in a couple of bottles of good wine, and M. de
la Fère, who was no longer afraid of being obliged to have recourse
to compassion, considered that he ought not to refuse a friendly
present. The wine completely restored to the chevalier his strength,
his originality, and even his hopes. By the time the dinner was
over, he had completely forgotten that he had not a sou, that he had
not a shirt, that his shoes were without soles, and his coat almost
without sleeves; his friends had equally forgotten it, for on this
day no one thought of the future, and it passed away in the enjoyment
of a degree of happiness of which those who have never suffered can
form no conception. At night, M. Fiddler lent them a bed, and the
chevalier slept in the room occupied by M. de la Fère and Raymond,
who could hardly sleep from the joy he felt at having a new companion.
The following morning, M. de la Fère said to the chevalier: "Well!
you remain with us; but every one in this house works,--what can you
do?"
"Faith, not much," said the chevalier. "I can attend to the house, go
of errands, and see to the cooking, when there is any," for they had
related to him the history of the eight days' fast. "Oh, I forgot,"
he continued, "I have a marvellous talent for mending old clothes.
Look!" and he showed them his coat, which was hanging in tatters at
all points. Every one laughed; but on a closer examination, they
found, that if indeed the chevalier's coat was thus torn, it had
been previously well mended. "This," said he, "is the only talent
I have as yet needed; set me to work, and perhaps some other will
spring up." It was agreed that, for the present, he should confine
himself to the exercise of his talents as a tailor, upon the remains
of his coat, in order to make it look somewhat more respectable,
while he was waiting for a better; and that he should undertake the
rough work, while the family was occupied in executing the orders,
which were now numerous and pressing. A few days after, M. Fiddler
consented to let them have, instead of the pavilion which they
occupied, and which was unsuited to their present circumstances, a
much smaller dwelling, to which was attached a little garden; this
the chevalier undertook to cultivate, and it supplied them with
some fruit and vegetables. He also prepared the card-board for the
boxes and screens, and even chimney ornaments, and pendule cases,
which were made by M. de la Fère and his son. These productions, as
well as those of Madame de la Fère, became quite the fashion in the
country. The chevalier took them to the neighbouring fairs, where,
at the same time, he found opportunities of making more advantageous
purchases than in the town. M. de la Fère gave him a per-centage
on all he bought and sold for him, so that in a short time he was
able to carry on a small trade on his own account, in which he
displayed considerable ability. Raymond often accompanied him in
these excursions, and thus began to acquire a knowledge of business.
As for Madame de la Fère, who added to her skill in embroidery, a
talent for millinery, she had soon so much to do that she was obliged
to take work-women, and she opened a shop, to which people came from
all parts, to get the French fashions, of which the chevalier, by
his activity, contrived to obtain for her the patterns. When their
circumstances had so much improved, that there was no longer any
danger of another fast, M. de la Fère said to Raymond and Juliette,
"My children, you have hitherto worked for the benefit of the
community, it is but just that you should also work for yourselves;
I give you each a louis d'or, you now know what it is capable of
producing, turn it to profit on your own account."
They did turn it to so good a use, that it served for their
maintenance during the remainder of the time they continued abroad.
M. and Madame de la Fère, when they returned to France, had acquired
by their industry, a sufficient sum to repurchase a portion of
their property which had been sold, and the Chevalier de Villon,
who remained with them, was in a condition to pay them a small sum
annually. As to Raymond, he had acquired habits of business and
industry, and Juliette those of activity and economy. She had also
learned never to close her heart to the miseries of others, as
sometimes happens with those who are very much engrossed by their own
trials; but it was in the midst of the anxieties of a most painful
position, that Juliette had seen how little it sometimes costs to
alleviate a great misfortune, and it was the louis d'or which had
taught her all this.
CONTINUATION OF THE HISTORY OF A LOUIS D'OR.
The louis d'or paid by Madame de la Fère to the merchant from whom
she had bought the lawn for her first handkerchiefs, was passed by
him to a fellow-tradesman, who was going to another town of Germany,
where he was established as a dealer in lace. Among the workpeople
who supplied him, was a young girl named _Victorine_, a refugee like
M. and Madame de la Fère. Victorine worked for the support of her
godmother, Madame d'Alin, an elderly person who had formerly been
well off; but the dread of the revolution had seized upon her to such
a degree, that almost at the very outbreak she precipitately quitted
France, without taking any precautions to preserve her property, and
without any money but what she happened to have at the moment for her
current expenses. Thinking only of flight, she took no one with her
but her godchild Victorine, the daughter of one of her old servants,
whom she had brought up. She had had her instructed in every kind of
female employment; and when they fell into misfortune, Victorine,
who, though scarcely seventeen years of age, possessed both sense and
courage, set herself vigorously to work for her godmother, whom age,
delicate health, and weakness of character, rendered incapable of
overcoming the difficulties of such a situation.