A CHANGE FOR THE BETTER
We were billeted in a school, a pleasant change after the wretched
holes we had been given in Argonne. I slept until it was broad daylight.
When I awoke, our _poilus_ had been up for a long time. Judsi was
parting his hair, and talking of asking for leave to go and see his
lady friend. I went on lying in my corner for quite a long time. I
was haunted by the gloomy speculations which had attacked me the day
before. I thought of you, Jeannine, and wondered if you were thinking
of me....
De Valpic appeared at the door and glanced round the room. He caught
sight of me and came up.
"Good morning, old chap!"
He sat down beside me.
"This Paris air does buck one up. I'm in the 'pink' this morning!"
He coughed.
"And what about you?"
"Not so dusty."
He continued:
"You did look cut up last night. Directly I got up, I said to myself,
now it's my turn to go and cheer him up!"
I smiled.
"Awfully decent of you, but did I need it as much as all that?"
There was a moment's silence, while his warm gaze probed me. Then he
put his hand on my shoulder:
"We aren't getting letters," he said, "but it doesn't mean that they
have forgotten us, old man!"
He had accentuated his words, with the intuition of a generous
heart. How cleverly he had seen through the almost unconscious yet
ever-present motive of my bitterness. I hoped he would continue--but he
did not force my reserve. Simply and quietly he began to open his heart
to me again, as he had the other day. I learnt that his betrothed was
named Anne-Marie, and he told me her family name too, an illustrious
one, as I had supposed. The last card he had had from her had been sent
from Laon, he said.... Yes, she was down there with a detachment of
nurses.
De Valpic spoke slowly, in his expressive, caressing voice. He told me
what strength and stoical tenacity of purpose he had drawn more than
once, from the tender daily letter. Without this assistance he would
have faltered and fallen at the beginning. He considered that now was
the time, when he, like me, had been deprived of all news, for so long,
to stand fast, to show himself worthy of her, to put forth all the
strength which she had inculcated into him.
It was a confidence which seemed to prompt mine, or take it for
granted, a new bond between us. All he told me of his fiancée, I could
attribute to Jeannine. Valiant children, they were both alike in their
attachment to us, in their task of inspiration. I too invoked a certain
passage in one of the recent letters, buttoned up in my tunic, where
courage and patience were preached to me, where I was implored never
to despair of happiness. Stick to it, then, by way of homage, in proof
of manly devotion. I fervently forbade myself to let despondency get a
hold over me. Ah! If only I could have made enthusiasm my daily bread.
"I've just been writing," continued De Valpic. "Sent from here, perhaps
it will arrive. Won't you imitate me?"
I asked him to excuse me for a moment while I scrawled a few lines. I
told Jeannine that fate had deigned to answer my prayer, and bring me
near to her.... Nothing more than a smiling testimony to our faith and
hope.
On reading it over I laughed and said:
"Well, if she is not cheered up by that!"
"You know," he said, "that Paris is showing a most admirable spirit."
"Really? How can you judge of it?"
"Come along!"
He gave me a hand by which to pull myself up. We went out. In the
street I was at once struck by all the windows decked with flags
flapping in the wind, the serenity written on the faces of the people
walking about, the tranquil hum. I had seen the city look like this
during the mobilisation.
"Has there been--a victory?" I murmured.
"It will come all in good time!" De Valpic said gaily. "Don't be in
such a hurry!"
Bells were beginning to ring.
"It's Sunday," he continued. "What luck to be here on a Sunday!"
We took a few steps. It was a clear, spring-like morning; a gentle
breeze made the sunlit tree-tops quiver. A troop of little children
ran up brandishing sticks and spades.
"Hurrah for the soldiers!" they cried.
They had the attractive, wide-awake faces common to Paris boys. They
nudged each other.
"It's the 3rd ... just look!"
"My big bruvver's in the 302nd."
Some of them gazed into our eyes saying:
"'Ad a 'ard time, 'aven't yer, but we're sure to wop 'em, ain't we?"
"Wop 'em--rather!" De Valpic retorted joyously.
The passers-by smiled at us, or gave us a friendly wave of the hand.
The City greeted us, not as her saviours--Paris did not admit that she
was in any danger,--but simply as good children who had suffered for
her sake.
The rare trams which were running, began to turn out numbers of Sunday
excursionists. A great many had come with their families either on
foot, or bicycling, to enjoy the air of their beloved suburb. Not
one of them showed the least trace of terror. They were marvellously
light-hearted. It was amusing to see the fathers pointing out the
preparations for defence to their offspring, the trenches and
barricades made of trees placed at intervals along the avenues, and
supplying the explanations in a serious or amused tone of voice. The
little brats enjoyed the unusual sight. Their eyes were often turned
skywards, a Taube was the only thing wanting to make their joy complete.
De Valpic pressed my arm. He was triumphant.
"Well, what do you say to it?"
Two pretty young women, who were crossing the road, came up to us. They
were attractive and distinguished-looking. They both had baskets on
their arms, and we noticed their brassards. They gracefully offered us
cigarettes, cakes, and packets of sweets tied up with ribbons. I helped
myself discreetly. De Valpic would only accept a flower, which he stuck
in his cap.
"And what about your comrades?"
We called Bouillon who was passing. He was still only half-clothed, as
he had been washing at a fountain. At last he made up his mind to it
and they made a great fuss over "the brave _poilu_."
Having stuffed him with dainties, they began to question him. Where did
he come from? From Paris, really! And what quarter? Grenelle. One of
them exclaimed that she lived in that part too. Bouillon was stammering
in his embarrassment.
I took it upon myself to give them "Marie's" address. The young woman
promised to go and see her, no later than to-morrow, and she would take
something for the baby.
I think that they had recognised De Valpic and myself as belonging to
their world. Just as they were about to go on their way, they turned
round once more.
"Perhaps you have some letters to send?"
"Yes, indeed."
We gave them the missives.
"Good luck to you!"
They held out their hands to us, with a pretty gesture.
* * * * *
Directly they had gone, I said to De Valpic:
"What we ought to have done was to ask them for some papers!"
"What does it matter?"
He accosted the first passer-by, and then went on to the next group.
His courtesy stood him in good stead. In five minutes he had collected
six or seven newspapers, of that day or the day before. We went in
again to revel in this literature.
Our eyes grew wet with joy, at the very first glance.
I have spoken of my obstinate fears concerning the interior peril. They
soon vanished. There was no confusion at all.
The Government was intact, and had become greater and more sanctified.
All the different parties were working together. The alterations in the
Ministry had no other significance. It was a Sacred Union. The words
exactly described it.
I fell upon the _communiqués_. That day's said that the enemy was
continuing his change of front in the south-east....
That of the day before mentioned that Rheims and La Ferté had been
reached.... That was no news to us!
Most of the space was devoted to the enormous advance by the Russians,
a piece of news which astounded, and overjoyed us. What fun has since
been made of the wave of hope let loose by these victories at the
beginning, of the naïve enthusiasm of the crowds, and the tale of
the Cossacks being only a few days' march from Berlin? Wrongly, in
my opinion. The benefit derived from such illusions will never be
exaggerated. Our salvation was built on them and by them,--by the
fervour aroused in the veins of each Frenchman, the fierce resolution
to strain every faculty, to fight side by side, to hold out until the
mighty flood of Slavs, pouring out of the Steppes, should overwhelm
everything....
And besides, they were not all chimeras. There were already some
definite results. Oriental Prussia was invaded, and "Altenstein" and
"Gumbinnen"--the censor was silent on the subject of "Thannenberg." And
then, at the other extremity of this front, the triumphs in Galicia,
the occupation of Lemberg, which had just been announced, and endless
booty and trophies!
Farther on other flourishes were sounded. There was an avalanche of
details on the marvellous exploits of the Serbians--their success at
Lonitza, dated from the week before--down to the splendid Montenegrins
who were said to be threatening Cattaro.
What could be more impressive, too, than the firmness of the English
resolution! The expeditionary force, coming over in numbers, day after
day; Lord Kitchener's allusion to the "formidable factor"--everyone
knew what he meant by that.
Above all, the solemn compact made by the Three Powers not to sign a
separate peace.
And then what life and courage there was in the style of all these
articles. They would always be read and re-read for the edification of
the people. There was no sign of depression or giving way. Nothing but
a superb confidence in the destiny of the country. They approved the
action of the Ministry, frankly and completely. It was an excellent
move to take the Government to Bordeaux, as a measure of prudence.
Gallièni was to replace Michel. Well if the latter submitted, he
must be imitated. There were sober commentaries on the strategical
situation. The errors and defeats were admitted, but public opinion
convinced that further mistakes were being guarded against, was not
affected by them. The possibility of an attack against the Intrenched
Camp was recognised, but there were strong arguments tending to prove
that it would fail utterly. There were interviews with combatants,
wounded, and prisoners; noble traits, and heroic sayings. In fact, one
might say that the atmosphere was one of cocksureness and joviality.
The press and the nation were attaining to the fine temper of the
_poilus_.
Here and there anonymous pieces of information or an article, signed
by a celebrated writer or politician, were conspicuous--all great
successes. It was not my smallest surprise. These people, worthy of
their reputation, of their readers, of the Moment! Supple geniuses
moving without effort at the zenith of eloquence.
Why quote any names? They were superbly-tuned instruments, all
vibrating on the same note, taking their part in the pæon, even to a
certain divine flute-player, whom I had formerly admired as an artist,
without considering him sincere, even without always relishing his
disdainful irony--I was struck by the direct, earnest style which he
suddenly displayed. I felt my soul thrill in unison with his great
soul, which he unveiled with a quiver.
De Valpic and I devoured the papers, and handed them on to each other.
"Just read that!"
I know quite well that we brought the most credulous state of mind to
our reading--I was even tempted to upbraid myself with it. The world of
the press was well known to me! It was turned on at a word of command.
Even in face of all likelihood and reason. Perhaps all the probable
sorrows of the hour were being hidden from us.
De Valpic read my thoughts:
"As long as it goes down...!" he said.
It was true enough. They were happy lies to judge by their fruits. If
those who traced these lines despaired at heart, all the more honour
to them.... Who could thank them enough for the manly assurance they
had inscribed on the face of the crowd? Could I not feel the benefit of
their encouragement upon myself?
My companion looked at his watch.
"I must leave you."
"Where are you going?"
He smiled:
"Will you come with me? There is a mass at nine o'clock, just near by."