THE ANGEL OF REFORM
As the days passed M. Vulfran became very weak. At last he was confined
to his room with a serious attack of bronchitis, and the entire
management of the works was given over to Talouel, who was triumphant.
When he recovered he was in such a state of apathy that it was alarming.
They could not rouse him; nothing seemed to interest him, not even his
business. Previously they had feared the effect a shock would have on
his system, but now the doctors desired it, for it seemed that only a
great shock could drag him out of this terrible condition. What could
they do?
After a time he returned to his business, but he scarcely took account
of what Talouel had done during his absence. His manager, however, had
been too clever and shrewd to take any steps that his employer would not
have taken himself.
Every day Perrine took him to his various factories, but the drives were
made in silence now. Frequently he did not reply to the remarks she made
from time to time, and when he reached the works he scarcely listened to
what his men had to say.
"Do what you think best," he said always. "Arrange the matter with
Talouel."
How long would this apathy last?
One afternoon, when old Coco was bringing them back to Maraucourt, they
heard a bell ringing.
"Stop," he said; "I think that's the fire alarm."
Perrine stopped the horse.
"Yes, it's a fire," he said, listening. "Do you see anything?"
"I can see a lot of black smoke over by the poplars on the left,"
replied Perrine.
"On the left? That is the way to the factory."
"Yes; shall I drive that way?" asked Perrine.
"Yes," replied M. Vulfran, indifferently.
It was not until they reached the village that they knew where the fire
was.
"Don't hurry, M. Vulfran," called out a peasant; "the fire ain't in your
house. It's La Tiburce's house that's on fire."
La Tiburce was a drunken creature who minded little babies who were too
young to be taken to the creche. She lived in a miserable tumble-down
house near the schools.
"Let us go there," said M. Vulfran.
They had only to follow the crowd, for the people, when they saw the
flames and smoke rising, were running excitedly to the spot where the
fire was. Before reaching the scene Perrine had to stop several times
for fear of running someone down. Nothing in the world would have made
the people get out of their way. Finally M. Vulfran got out of the
carriage and, guided by Perrine, walked through the crowd. As they
neared the entrance to the house, Fabry, wearing a helmet, for he was
chief of the firemen, came up to them.
"We've got it under control," he said, "but the house is entirely burnt,
and what's worse, several children, five or six, perhaps, are lost. One
is buried beneath, two have been suffocated, and we don't know where the
other three are."
"How did it happen?" asked M. Vulfran.
"La Tiburce was asleep, drunk. She is still in that condition. The
biggest of the children were playing with the matches. When the fire
began to flare up some of the children got out, and La Tiburce woke up.
She is so drunk she got out herself but left the little ones in the
cradle."
The sound of cries and loud talking could be heard in the yard. M.
Vulfran wanted to go in.
"Don't go in there, sir," said Fabry. "The mothers whose two children
were suffocated are carrying on pretty badly."
"Who are they?"
"Two women who work in your factory."
"I must speak to them."
Leaning on Perrine's shoulder, he told her to guide him. Preceded by
Fabry, who made way for them, they went into the yard where the firemen
were turning the hose on the house as the flames burst forth in a
crackling sound.
In a far-off corner several women stood round the two mothers who were
crying. Fabry brushed aside the group. M. Vulfran went up to the
bereaved parents, who sat with their dead children on their knees. Then
one of the women, who thought perhaps that a supreme help had come,
looked up with a gleam of hope in her eyes. When she recognized M.
Vulfran she raised her arm to him threateningly.
"Ah," she cried, "come and see for yourself what they do to our babies
while we are sweating and killing ourselves for you. Can you give us
back their lives? Oh, my little boy."
She burst into sobs as she bent over her child.
M. Vulfran hesitated for a moment; then he turned to Fabry and said:
"You are right; let us go."
They returned to the offices. After a time Talouel came to tell his
employer that out of the six children that they had thought were dead,
three had been found in the homes of neighbors, where they had been
carried when the fire first broke out. The burial for the other three
tiny victims was to take place the next day.
When Talouel had gone, Perrine, who had been very thoughtful, decided to
speak to M. Vulfran.
"Are you not going to the burial service of these little babies?" she
asked. Her trembling voice betrayed her emotion.
"Why should I go?" asked M. Vulfran.
"Because that would be the most dignified answer you could give to what
that poor woman said."
"Did my work people come to the burial service of my son?" asked M.
Vulfran, coldly.
"They did not share your sorrow," said Perrine gravely, "but if you
share theirs now they will be touched."
"You don't know how ungrateful the workingman is."
"Ungrateful! For what? The money they receive? They consider that they
have a right to the money they earn. It is theirs. Would they show
ingratitude if an interest was taken in them, if a little friendly help
was given them? Perhaps it would not be the same, do you think so?
Friendship creates friendship. One often loves when one knows one is
loved, and it seems to me that when we are friendly to others, we make
friends ourselves. It means so much to lighten the burdens of the poor,
but how much more is it to lighten their sorrows ... by helping to share
them."
It seemed to her that she had still so much to say on this subject, but
M. Vulfran did not reply. He did not even appear to be listening to her,
and she was afraid to say more. Later she might make another attempt.
As they left the office M. Vulfran turned to Talouel, who was standing
on the steps, and said:
"Tell the priest to arrange a suitable burial for the three children. It
will be at my expense and I shall be there."
Talouel jumped.
"And let everyone know," continued M. Vulfran, "that all who wish to go
to the church tomorrow, can take the time off. This fire is a great
misfortune."
"We are not responsible for it," said Talouel.
"Not directly ... no," said M. Vulfran.
Perrine had another surprise the next morning. After the mail had been
opened and the replies dictated, M. Vulfran detained Fabry and said: "I
want you to start for Rouen. I think you can spare the time. I have
heard that they have built a model creche there. It is not built by the
town, but someone has had it built to the memory of one whom they have
lost. I want you to see how this is made. Study it in all its
details--the construction, heating and ventilation and the expense of
keeping it up. In three months we must have a creche at the entrance of
all my factories. I don't want such a calamity as that which occurred
yesterday to take place again. I rely upon you and the responsibility is
upon you now."
That evening Perrine told the great news to her governess, who was
delighted. While they were talking about it, M. Vulfran came into the
room.
"Mademoiselle," he said, "I have come to ask a favor of you in the name
of all the village. It is a big favor. It may mean a great sacrifice on
your part. This is it."
In a few words he outlined the request he had to make. It was that
mademoiselle should send in her resignation at the schools and take
charge of the five creches which he was going to build. He knew of no
one who was capable of taking on their shoulders such a big burden. He
would donate a creche to each village and endow it with sufficient
capital to keep up its maintenance.
Although Mlle. Belhomme loved to teach, and it would be indeed a
sacrifice for her to give up her school, she felt, after she had talked
with the blind man, that it was here where her duty lay. It was indeed a
great work that she was called upon to do, and she would enter upon her
task with all the enthusiasm of which her big heart was capable.
"This is a great thing you are doing, Monsieur Vulfran," she said, with
tears in her eyes, "and I will do all I can to make this work a
success."
"It is your pupil one must thank for it," said the blind man, "not I.
Her words and suggestions have awakened something in my heart. I have
stepped out on a new road. I am only at the first steps. It is nothing
compared with what I intend to do."
"Oh, please," said Perrine, her eyes bright with delight and pride, "if
you still want to do something...."
"What is it?" he asked with a smile.
"I want to take you somewhere ... tonight."
"What do you mean? Where do you want to take me?" asked the blind man,
mystified.
"To a place where your presence only for a few moments will bring about
extraordinary results," said Perrine.
"Well, can't you tell me where this mysterious place is?" asked M.
Vulfran.
"But if I tell you, your visit will not have the same effect. It will be
a failure. It will be a fine evening and warm, and I am sure that you
will not take cold. Please say you will go!"
"I think one could have confidence in her," said Mademoiselle Belhomme,
"although her request seems a little strange and childish."
"Well," said M. Vulfran, indulgently, "I'll do as you wish, Aurelie. Now
at what hour are we to start on this adventure?"
"The later it is the better it will be," said Perrine.
During the evening he spoke several times of the outing they were to
have, but Perrine would not explain.
"Do you know, little girl, you have aroused my curiosity?" he said at
last.
"I am glad you are interested," she said gravely. "There is so much that
can be done in the future. Do not look back to the past any more."
"The future is empty for me," said the blind man bitterly.
"Oh, no; it is not," said Perrine, lifting her lovely face to his. Her
eyes were shining with a beautiful light. "It will not be empty if you
think of others. When one is a child, and not very happy, one often
thinks that if a wonderful fairy came to them, of what beautiful things
they would ask. But if one is the fairy, or rather the magician oneself,
and can do all the wonderful things alone, wouldn't it be splendid to
use one's power?..."
The evening passed. Several times the blind man asked if it were not
time to start, but Perrine delayed as long as possible.
At last she said that she thought they could start. The night was warm,
no breeze, no mists. The atmosphere was a trifle heavy and the sky dark.
When they reached the village it was all quiet. All seemed to sleep. Not
a light shone from the windows.
The dark night made no difference to the blind man. As they walked along
the road from the chateau he knew exactly where he was.
"We must be nearing Francoise's house," he said, after they had walked a
little distance.
"That is just where we are going," said Perrine. "We are there now. Let
me take your hand and guide you, and please don't speak. We have some
stairs to go up, but they are quite easy and straight. When we get to
the top of these stairs I shall open a door and we shall go into a room
for just one moment."
"What do you want me to see ... when I can't see anything?" he said.
"There will be no need for you to see," replied Perrine.
"Then why come?"
"I want you here," said Perrine earnestly. "Here are the stairs. Now
step up, please."
They climbed up the stairs and Perrine opened a door and gently drew M.
Vulfran inside a room and closed the door again.
They stood in a suffocating, evil-smelling room.
"Who is there?" asked a weary voice.
Pressing his hand, Perrine warned M. Vulfran not to speak.
The same voice spoke:
"Get into bed, La Noyelle. How late you are."
This time M. Vulfran clasped Perrine's hand in a sign for them to leave
the place.
She opened the door and they went down, while a murmur of voices
accompanied them. When they reached the street M. Vulfran spoke: "You
wanted me to know what that room was the first night when you slept
there?"
"I wanted you to know what kind of a place all the women who work for
you have to sleep in. They are all alike in Maraucourt and the other
villages. You have stood in one of these dreadful rooms; all the others
are like it. Think of your women and children, your factory hands, who
are breathing that poisoned air. They are slowly dying. They are almost
all weak and sick."
M. Vulfran was silent. He did not speak again, neither did Perrine. When
they entered the hall he bade her good night, and guided by Bastien, he
went to his own room.