“You must surely also have been married? One could not get as
bald-headed as you are without having been in love.”
He shook his head, shaking dandruff down on his coat as he did so.
“No, I have always been virtuous.”
And, raising his eyes toward the chandelier which heated our heads, he
said:
“If I am bald, it is the fault of the gas. It destroys the hair. Waiter,
a 'bock.' Are you not thirsty?”
“No, thank you. But you really interest me. Since when have you been so
morbid? Your life is not normal, it is not natural. There is something
beneath it all.”
“Yes, and it dates from my infancy. I received a great shock when I was
very young, and that turned my life into darkness which will last to the
end.”
“What was it?”
“You wish to know about it? Well, then, listen. You recall, of course,
the castle in which I was brought up, for you used to spend five or six
months there during vacation. You remember that large gray building, in
the middle of a great park, and the long avenues of oaks which opened to
the four points of the compass. You remember my father and mother, both
of whom were ceremonious, solemn, and severe.
“I worshipped my mother; I was afraid of my father; but I respected
both, accustomed always as I was to see every one bow before them. They
were Monsieur le Comte and Madame la Comtesse to all the country round,
and our neighbors, the Tannemares, the Ravelets, the Brennevilles,
showed them the utmost consideration.
“I was then thirteen years old. I was happy, pleased with everything, as
one is at that age, full of the joy of life.
“Well, toward the end of September, a few days before returning to
college, as I was playing about in the shrubbery of the park, among
the branches and leaves, as I was crossing a path, I saw my father and
mother, who were walking along.
“I recall it as though it were yesterday. It was a very windy day. The
whole line of trees swayed beneath the gusts of wind, groaning, and
seeming to utter cries-those dull, deep cries that forests give out
during a tempest.
“The falling leaves, turning yellow, flew away like birds, circling and
falling, and then running along the path like swift animals.
“Evening came on. It was dark in the thickets. The motion of the wind
and of the branches excited me, made me tear about as if I were crazy,
and howl in imitation of the wolves.
“As soon as I perceived my parents, I crept furtively toward them,
under the branches, in order to surprise them, as though I had been
a veritable prowler. But I stopped in fear a few paces from them. My
father, who was in a terrible passion, cried:
“'Your mother is a fool; moreover, it is not a question of your mother.
It is you. I tell you that I need this money, and I want you to sign
this.'
“My mother replied in a firm voice:
“'I will not sign it. It is Jean's fortune. I shall guard it for him and
I will not allow you to squander it with strange women, as you have your
own heritage.'
“Then my father, trembling with rage, wheeled round and, seizing his
wife by the throat, began to slap her with all his might full in the
face with his disengaged hand.
“My mother's hat fell off, her hair became loosened and fell over her
shoulders; she tried to parry the blows, but she could not do so. And
my father, like a madman, kept on striking her. My mother rolled over on
the ground, covering her face with her hands. Then he turned her over on
her back in order to slap her still more, pulling away her hands, which
were covering her face.
“As for me, my friend, it seemed as though the world was coming to an
end, that the eternal laws had changed. I experienced the overwhelming
dread that one has in presence of things supernatural, in presence of
irreparable disasters. My childish mind was bewildered, distracted. I
began to cry with all my might, without knowing why; a prey to a fearful
dread, sorrow, and astonishment. My father heard me, turned round, and,
on seeing me, started toward me. I believe that he wanted to kill
me, and I fled like a hunted animal, running straight ahead into the
thicket.
“I ran perhaps for an hour, perhaps for two. I know not. Darkness set
in. I sank on the grass, exhausted, and lay there dismayed, frantic with
fear, and devoured by a sorrow capable of breaking forever the heart of
a poor child. I was cold, hungry, perhaps. At length day broke. I was
afraid to get up, to walk, to return home, to run farther, fearing to
encounter my father, whom I did not wish to see again.
“I should probably have died of misery and of hunger at the foot of a
tree if the park guard had not discovered me and led me home by force.
“I found my parents looking as usual. My mother alone spoke to me “'How
you frightened me, you naughty boy. I lay awake the whole night.'
“I did not answer, but began to weep. My father did not utter a single
word.
“Eight days later I returned to school.
“Well, my friend, it was all over with me. I had witnessed the other
side of things, the bad side. I have not been able to perceive the
good side since that day. What has taken place in my mind, what strange
phenomenon has warped my ideas, I do not know. But I no longer had a
taste for anything, a wish for anything, a love for anybody, a desire
for anything whatever, any ambition, or any hope. And I always see my
poor mother on the ground, in the park, my father beating her. My mother
died some years later; my father still lives. I have not seen him since.
Waiter, a 'bock.'”
A waiter brought him his “bock,” which he swallowed at a gulp. But, in
taking up his pipe again, trembling as he was, he broke it. “Confound
it!” he said, with a gesture of annoyance. “That is a real sorrow. It
will take me a month to color another!”
And he called out across the vast hall, now reeking with smoke and full
of men drinking, his everlasting: “Garcon, un 'bock'--and a new pipe.”