The Seven Cardinal Sins: Envy and Indolence Part 43

"Ah, well, mother, those farewells at night, you remember?--it was not a dream."

"Why, did you really come to me that dreadful night?"

"Yes, to bid you farewell."

"My G.o.d! and where were you going?"

"I was going to kill myself."

Marie uttered a shriek of fright, and turned pale.

"Frederick," said David, "you see what imprudence--"

"No, no, M. David," interrupted the young woman, trying to smile. "It is I who am absurdly weak. Have I not my son here in my arms, on my heart?"

As she said these words, Marie pressed her son in her arms, as they sat together on the sofa; then kissing him on the forehead, she added, in a trembling voice:

"Oh, I have you in my arms. Now I have no more fear, I can hear all."

"Well, mother, devoured by envy, and more than that, pursued by remorse, which always awakened at the sound of your voice, I wanted to kill myself. I went out with M. David, I escaped from him. He succeeded in finding my tracks. I had run to the Loire, and when he arrived--"

"Ah! unhappy child!" cried Marie, "but for him you would have drowned!"

"Yes, and when I was about to drown I called you, mother, as one calls for help. He heard my cries, and threw himself in the Loire, and--"

Frederick was interrupted by Marguerite.

The old servant this time did not present herself smiling and triumphant, but timid and alarmed, as she whispered to her mistress, as if she were announcing some fatal news:

"Madame, madame, monsieur has come!"

CHAPTER x.x.xIII.

These words of Marguerite, "Monsieur has come!" announcing the arrival of Jacques Bastien at the very moment in which Marie realised that she owed to David not only the moral restoration but the life of her son, so appalled the young woman that she sat mute and motionless, as if struck by an unexpected blow; for the incidents of the morning had banished from her mind every thought of her husband's letter. Frederick, on his part, felt a sad surprise. Thanks to his mother's reticence he was ignorant of much of his father's unkindness and injustice, but certain domestic scenes in which the natural brutality of Jacques Bastien's character had been manifested, and the unwise severity with which he exercised his paternal authority in his rare visits to the farm, united in rendering the relations of father and son very strained.

David also saw the arrival of M. Bastien with profound apprehension; although prepared to make all possible concessions to this man, even to the point of utter self-effacement, it pained him to think that the continuity of his relations with Frederick and his mother depended absolutely on the caprice of Jacques Bastien.

Marguerite was so little in advance of her master that David, Marie, and her son were still under the effects of their astonishment and painful reflections, when Jacques Bastien entered the library, accompanied by his companion, Bridou, the bailiff of Pont Brillant.

Jacques Bastien, as we have said, was an obese Hercules; his large head, covered with a forest of reddish blond curls, was joined close to his broad shoulders by the neck of a bull; his face was large, florid, and almost beardless, as is frequently the case in athletic physiques; his nose big, his lips of the kind called blubber, and his eye at the same time shrewd, wicked, and deceitful. The blue blouse, which, according to his custom, he wore over his riding-coat, distinctly delineated the prominence of his Falstaff-like stomach; he wore a little cap of fox hair, with ear-protectors, trousers of cheap velvet, and iron-tipped boots that had not been cleaned for several days; in one of his short, yet enormous hands, broader than they were long, he carried a stick of holly-wood, fastened to his wrist by a greasy leather string; and if the truth must be told, this man, a sort of mastodon, at ten paces distant, smelled like a goat.

His boon companion, Bridou, also clad in a blouse over his old black coat, and wearing a round hat, was a small man, with spectacles, lank, covered with freckles, with a cunning, sly expression, pinched mouth, and high cheek-bones: one might have taken him for a ferret wearing eyegla.s.ses.

At the sight of Jacques Bastien, David shuddered with pain and apprehension, as he thought that Marie's life was for ever linked to the life of this man, who even lacked the generosity of remaining absent from the unhappy woman.

Jacques Bastien and Bridou entered the library without salutation; the first words that the master of the domicile, with an angry frown and rude voice, addressed to his wife, who rose to receive him, were these:

"Who gave the order to fell my fir-trees?"

"What fir-trees, monsieur?" asked Marie, without knowing what she said, so much was she upset by her husband's arrival.

"How, what fir-trees?" replied Jacques Bastien. "What but my fir-trees on the road? Do I speak enigmas? In pa.s.sing along the road I have just seen that more than a thousand of the finest trees on the border of the plantation have been cut down! I ask you who has allowed them to be sold without my order?"

"They have not been sold, monsieur," replied Marie, regaining her self-possession.

"If they have not been sold, why were they cut down? Who ordered them cut down?"

"I did, monsieur."

"You?"

And Jacques Bastien, overwhelmed with astonishment, was silent a moment; then he said:

"Ah! so it was you, madame! A new performance, forsooth! You are drawing it rather strong. What do you say about it, Bridou?"

"Bless me, Jacques, you had better look into it."

"That is just what I am going to do; and what use did you have for the money, madame, that you had more than a thousand of my finest firs cut down, if you please?"

"Monsieur, it would be better, I think, to talk of business when we are alone. You must see that my son's preceptor, M. David, is present."

And Madame Bastien indicated by her glance David, who was sitting apart from the company.

Jacques Bastien turned around abruptly, and after having contemptuously measured David from head to foot, said to him, rudely:

"Monsieur, I wish to speak with my wife."

David bowed and went out, and Frederick followed him, outraged at the treatment received by his friend.

"Come, madame," continued Jacques Bastien, "you see your Latin spitter has departed; are you going to answer me at last?"

"When we are alone, monsieur."

"If it is I who restrain you," said Bridou, walking toward the door, "I am going to march out."

"Come now, Bridou, do you make a jest of everybody? Please stay where you are," cried Jacques.

Then, turning to Marie, he said:

"My companion knows my business as well as I do; now, madame, we are talking of business, for a thousand firs on the edge of my farm is a matter of business, and a big one, too; so Bridou will remain."

"As you please, monsieur; then I will tell you before M. Bridou that I thought it my duty to have your fir-trees cut down, in order to give them to the unfortunate valley people, that they might rebuild their dwellings half destroyed by the overflow."