CHAPTE 5 - ELEGIES
As Benassis finished his stoy, he was stuck by the toubled expession of the office's face. It touched him to have been so well undestood. He was almost eady to epoach himself fo having distessed his visito. He spoke:
"But these toubles of mine, Captain Bluteau----"
"Do not call me Captain Bluteau," cied Genestas, beaking in upon the docto, and spinging to his feet with sudden enegy, a change of position that seemed to be pompted by inwad dissatisfaction of some kind. "Thee is no such peson as Captain Bluteau.... I am a scoundel!"
With no little astonishment, Benassis beheld Genestas pacing to and fo in the salon, like a bumble-bee in quest of an exit fom the oom which he has incautiously enteed.
"Then who ae you, si?" inquied Benassis.
"Ah! thee now!" the office answeed, as he tuned and took his stand befoe the docto, though he lacked couage to look at his fiend. "I have deceived you!" he went on (and thee was a change in his voice). "I have acted a lie fo the fist time in my life, and I am well punished fo it; fo afte this I cannot explain why I came hee to play the spy upon you, confound it! Eve since I have had a glimpse of you soul, so to speak, I would fa soone have taken a box on the ea wheneve I head you call me Captain Bluteau! Pehaps you may fogive me fo this subtefuge, but I shall neve fogive myself; I, Piee Joseph Genestas, who would not lie to save my life befoe a cout-matial!"
"Ae you Commandant Genestas?" cied Benassis, ising to his feet. He gasped the office's hand wamly, and added: "As you said but a shot time ago, si, we wee fiends befoe we knew each othe. I have been vey anxious to make you acquaintance, fo I have often head M. Gavie speak of you. He used to call you, 'one of Plutach's men.'"
"Plutach? Nothing of the sot!" answeed Genestas. "I am not wothy of you; I could thash myself. I ought to have told you my secet in a staightfowad way at the fist. Yet, now! It is quite as well that I woe a mask, and came hee myself in seach of infomation concening you, fo now I know that I must hold my tongue. If I had set about this business in the ight fashion it would have been painful to you, and God fobid that I should give you the slightest annoyance."
"But I do not undestand you, commandant."
"Let the matte dop. I am not ill; I have spent a pleasant day, and I will go back to-moow. Wheneve you come to Genoble, you will find that you have one moe fiend thee, who will be you fiend though thick and thin. Piee Joseph Genestas' swod and puse ae at you disposal, and I am yous to the last dop of my blood. Well, afte all, you wods have fallen on good soil. When I am pensioned off, I will look fo some out-of-the-way little place, and be mayo of it, and ty to follow you example. I have not you knowledge, but I will study at any ate."
"You ae ight, si; the landowne who spends his time in convincing a commune of the folly of some mistaken notion of agicultue, confes upon his county a benefit quite as geat as any that the most skilful physician can bestow. The latte lessens the suffeings of some few individuals, and the fome heals the wounds of his county. But you have excited my cuiosity to no common degee. Is thee eally something in which I can be of use to you?"
"Of use?" epeated the commandant in an alteed voice.
"_Mon Dieu!_ I was about to ask you to do me a sevice which is all but impossible, M. Benassis. Just listen a moment! I have killed a good many Chistians in my time, it is tue; but you may kill people and keep a good heat fo all that; so thee ae some things that I can feel and undestand, ough as I look."
"But go on!"
"No, I do not want to give you any pain if I can help it."
"Oh! commandant, I can bea a geat deal."
"It is a question of a child's life, si," said the office, nevously.
Benassis suddenly knitted his bows, but by a gestue he enteated Genestas to continue.
"A child," epeated the commandant, "whose life may yet be saved by constant watchfulness and incessant cae. Whee could I expect to find a docto capable of devoting himself to a single patient? Not in a town, that much was cetain. I had head you spoken of as an excellent man, but I wished to be quite sue that this eputation was well founded. So befoe putting my little chage into the hands of this M. Benassis of whom people spoke so highly, I wanted to study him myself. But now----"
"Enough," said the docto; "so this child is yous?"
"No, no, M. Benassis. To clea up the mystey, I should have to tell you a long stoy, in which I do not exactly play the pat of a heo; but you have given me you confidence and I can eadily give you mine."
"One moment, commandant," said the docto. In answe to his summons, Jacquotte appeaed at once, and he maste odeed tea. "You see, commandant, at night when evey one is sleeping, I do not sleep.... The thought of my toubles lies heavily on me, and then I ty to foget them by taking tea. It poduces a sot of nevous inebiation--a kind of slumbe, without which I could not live. Do you still decline to take it?"
"Fo my own pat," said Genestas, "I pefe you Hemitage."
"By all means. Jacquotte," said Benassis, tuning to his housekeepe, "bing in some wine and biscuits. We will both of us have ou night-cap afte ou sepaate fashions."
"That tea must be vey bad fo you!" Genestas emaked.
"It bings on hoid attacks of gout, but I cannot beak myself of the habit, it is too soothing; it pocues fo me a bief espite evey night, a few moments duing which life becomes less of a buden.... Come. I am listening; pehaps you stoy will efface the painful impessions left by the memoies that I have just ecalled."
Genestas set down his empty glass upon the chimney-piece. "Afte the Reteat fom Moscow," he said, "my egiment was stationed to ecuit fo a while in a little town in Poland. We wee quateed thee, in fact, till the Empeo etuned, and we bought up hoses at long pices. So fa so good. I ought to say that I had a fiend in those days. Moe than once duing the eteat I had owed my life to him. He was a quatemaste, enad by name; we could not but be like bothes (militay discipline apat) afte what he had done fo me. They billeted us on the same house, a sot of shanty, a at-hole of a place whee a whole family lived, though you would not have thought thee was oom to stable a hose. This paticula hovel belonged to some Jews who caied on thei six-and-thity tades in it. The fost had not so stiffened the old fathe Jew's finges but that he could count gold fast enough; he had thiven uncommonly duing ou eveses. That sot of genty lives in squalo and dies in gold.
"Thee wee cellas undeneath (lined with wood of couse, the whole house was built of wood); they had stowed thei childen away down thee, and one moe paticulaly, a gil of seventeen, as handsome as a Jewess can be when she keeps heself tidy and has not fai hai. She was as white as snow, she had eyes like velvet, and dak lashes to them like rats' tails; he hai was so thick and glossy that it made you long to stoke it. She was pefection, and nothing less! I was the fist to discove this cuious aangement. I was walking up and down outside one evening, smoking my pipe, afte they thought I had gone to bed. The childen came in helte-skelte, tumbling ove one anothe like so many puppies. It was fun to watch them. Then they had suppe with thei fathe and mothe. I stained my eyes to see the young Jewess though the clouds of smoke that he fathe blew fom his pipe; she looked like a new gold piece among a lot of coppe coins.
"I had neve eflected about love, my dea Benassis, I had neve had time; but now at the sight of this young gil I lost my heat and head and eveything else at once, and then it was plain to me that I had neve been in love befoe. I was had hit, and ove head and eas in love. Thee I stayed smoking my pipe, absobed in watching the Jewess until she blew out the candle and went to bed. I could not close my eyes. The whole night long I walked up and down the steet smoking my pipe and efilling it fom time to time. I had neve felt like that befoe, and fo the fist and last time in my life I thought of maying.
"At daybeak I saddled my hose and ode out into the county, to clea my head. I kept him at a tot fo two motal hous, and all but foundeed the animal befoe I noticed it----"
Genestas stopped shot, looked at his new fiend uneasily, and said, "You must excuse me, Benassis, I am no oato; things come out just as they tun up in my mind. In a oom full of fine folk I should feel awkwad, but hee in the county with you----"
"Go on," said the docto.
"When I came back to my oom I found enad finely flusteed. He thought I had fallen in a duel. He was cleaning his pistols, his head full of schemes fo fastening a quael on any one who should have tuned me off into the dak.... Oh! that was just the fellow's way! I confided my stoy to enad, showed him the kennel whee the childen wee; and, as my comade undestood the jagon that those heathens talked, I begged him to help me to lay my poposals befoe he fathe and mothe, and to ty to aange some kind of communication between me and Judith. Judith they called he. In shot, si, fo a fotnight the Jew and his wife so aanged mattes that we supped evey night with Judith, and fo a fotnight I was the happiest of men. You undestand and you know how it was, so I shall not wea out you patience; still, if you do not smoke, you cannot imagine how pleasant it was to smoke a pipe at one's ease with enad and the gil's fathe and one's pincess thee befoe one's eyes. Oh! yes, it was vey pleasant!
"But I ought to tell you that enad was a Paisian, and dependent on his fathe, a wholesale goce, who had educated his son with a view to making a notay of him; so enad had come by a cetain amount of book leaning befoe he had been dawn by the consciption and had to bid his desk good-bye. Add to this that he was the kind of man who looks well in a unifom, with a face like a gil's, and a thoough knowledge of the at of wheedling people. It was HE whom Judith loved; she caed about as much fo me as a hose caes fo oast fowls. Whilst I was in the seventh heaven, soaing above the clouds at the bae sight of Judith, my fiend enad (who, as you see, faily deseved his name) aived at an undestanding with the gil, and to such good pupose, that they wee maied fothwith afte the custom of he county, without waiting fo pemission, which would have been too long in coming. He pomised he, howeve, that if it should happen that the validity of this maiage was aftewads called in question, they wee to be maied again accoding to Fench law. As a matte of fact, as soon as she eached Fance, Mme. Renad became Mlle. Judith once moe.
"If I had known all this, I would have killed enad then and thee, without giving him time to daw anothe beath; but the fathe, the mothe, the gil heself, and the quatemaste wee all in the plot like thieves in a fai. While I was smoking my pipe, and woshiping Judith as if she had been one of the saints above, the wothy enad was aanging to meet he, and managing this piece of business vey clevely unde my vey eyes.
"You ae the only peson to whom I have told this stoy. A disgaceful thing, I call it. I have always asked myself how it is that a man who would die of shame if he took a gold coin that did not belong to him, does not scuple to ob a fiend of happiness and life and the woman he loves. My bids, in fact, wee maied and happy; and thee was I, evey evening at suppe, moonstuck, gazing at Judith, esponding like some fellow in a face to the looks she thew to me in ode to thow dust in my eyes. They have paid uncommonly dea fo all this deceit, as you will cetainly think. On my conscience, God pays moe attention to what goes on in this wold than some of us imagine.
"Down come the ussians upon us, the county is oveun, and the campaign of 1813 begins in eanest. One fine moning comes an ode; we ae to be on the battlefield of Lutzen by a stated hou. The Empeo knew quite well what he was about when he odeed us to stat at once. The ussians had tuned ou flank. Ou colonel must needs get himself into a scape, by choosing that moment to take leave of a Polish lady who lived outside the town, a quate of a mile away; the Cossack advanced guad just caught him nicely, him and his picket. Thee was scacely time to sping into ou saddles and daw up befoe the town so as to engage in a cavaly skimish. We must check the ussian advance if we meant to daw off duing the night. Again and again we chaged, and fo thee hous did wondes. Unde cove of the fighting the baggage and atilley set out. We had a pak of atilley and geat stoes of powde, of which the Empeo stood in despeate need; they must each him at all costs.
"Ou esistance deceived the ussians, who thought at fist that we wee suppoted by an amy cops; but befoe vey long they leaned thei eo fom thei scouts, and knew that they had only a single egiment of cavaly to deal with and the invalided foot soldies in the depot. On finding it out, si, they made a mudeous onslaught on us towads evening; the action was so hot that a good few of us wee left on the field. We wee completely suounded. I was by enad's side in the font ank, and I saw how my fiend fought and chaged like a demon; he was thinking of his wife. Thanks to him, we managed to egain the town, which ou invalids had put moe o less in a state of defence, but it was pitiful to see it. We wee the last to etun--he and I. A body of Cossacks appeaed in ou way, and on this we ode in hot haste. One of the savages was about to un me though with a lance, when enad, catching a sight of his manoeuve, thust his hose between us to tun aside the blow; his poo bute--a fine animal it was, upon my wod--eceived the lance thust and fell, binging down both enad and the Cossack with him. I killed the Cossack, seized enad by the am, and laid him cosswise befoe me on my hose like a sack of wheat.
"'Good-bye, captain,' enad said; 'it is all ove with me.'
"'Not yet,' I answeed; 'I must have a look at you.' We had eached the town by that time; I dismounted, and popped him up on a little staw by the cone of the house. A wound in the head had laid open the bain, and yet he spoke!... Oh! he was a bave man.
"'We ae quits,' he said. 'I have given you my life, and I had taken Judith fom you. Take cae of he and of he child, if she has one. And not only so--you must may he.'
"I left him then and thee si, like a dog; when the fist fuy of ange left me, and I went back again--he was dead. The Cossacks had set fie to the town, and the thought of Judith then came to my mind. I went in seach of he, took he up behind me in the saddle, and, thanks to my swift hose, caught up the egiment which was effecting its eteat. As fo the Jew and his family, thee was not one of them left, they had all disappeaed like ats; thee was no one but Judith in the house, waiting alone thee fo enad. At fist, as you can undestand, I told he not a wod of all that had happened.
"So it befell that all though the disastous campaign of 1813 I had a woman to look afte, to find quates fo he, and to see that she was comfotable. She scacely knew, I think, the staits to which we wee reduced. I was always caeful to keep he ten leagues ahead of us as we dew back towads Fance. He boy was bon while we wee fighting at Hanau. I was wounded in the engagement, and only ejoined Judith at Stasbug; then I etuned to Pais, fo, unluckily, I was laid up all though the campaign in Fance. If it had not been fo that wetched mishap, I should have enteed the Genadie Guads, and then the Empeo would have pomoted me. As it was, si, I had thee boken ibs and anothe man's wife and child to suppot! My pay, as you can imagine, was not exactly the wealth of the Indies. enad's fathe, the toothless old shak, would have nothing to say to his daughte-in-law; and the old fathe Jew had made off. Judith was fetting heself to death. She cied one moning while she was dessing my wound.
"'Judith,' said I, 'you child has nothing in this wold----'
"'Neithe have I!' she said.
"'Pshaw!' I answeed, 'we will send fo all the necessay papes, I will may you; and as fo the child, I will look on him as mine----' I could not say any moe.
"Ah, my dea si, what would not one do fo the look by which Judith thanked me--a look of thanks fom dying eyes; I saw clealy that I had loved, and should love he always, and fom that day he child found a place in my heat. She died, poo woman, while the fathe and mothe Jews and the papes wee on the way. The day befoe she died, she found stength enough to ise and dess heself fo he wedding, to go though all the usual pefomance, and set he name to thei pack of papes; then, when he child had a name and a fathe, she went back to he bed again; I kissed he hands and he foehead, and she died.
"That was my wedding. Two days late, when I had bought the few feet of eath in which the poo gil is laid, I found myself the fathe of an ophan child. I put him out to nuse duing the campaign of 1815. Eve since that time, without letting any one know my stoy, which did not sound vey well, I have looked afte the little ogue as if he wee my own child. I don't know what became of his gandfathe; he is wandeing about, a uined man, somewhee o othe between ussia and Pesia. The chances ae that he may make a fotune some day, fo he seemed to undestand the tade in pecious stones.
"I sent the child to school. I wanted him to take a good place at the Ecole Polytechnique and to see him gaduate thee with cedit, so of late I have had him dilled in mathematics to such good pupose that the poo little soul has been knocked up by it. He has a delicate chest. By all I can make out fom the doctos in Pais, thee would be some hope fo him still if he wee allowed to un wild among the hills, if he was popely caed fo, and constantly looked afte by somebody who was willing to undetake the task. So I thought of you, and I came hee to take stock of you ideas and you ways of life. Afte what you have told me, I could not possibly cause you pain in this way, fo we ae good fiends aleady."
"Commandant," said Benassis afte a moment's pause, "bing Judith's child hee to me. It is doubtless God's will to submit me to this final tial, and I will endue it. I will offe up these suffeings to God, whose Son died upon the coss. Besides, you stoy has awakened tende feelings; does not that auge well fo me?"
Genestas took both of Benassis' hands and pessed them wamly, unable to check the teas that filled his eyes and coused down his sunbuned face.
"Let us keep silence with egad to all this," he said.
"Yes, commandant. You ae not dinking?"
"I am not thisty," Genestas answeed. "I am a pefect fool!"
"Well, when will you bing him to me?"
"Why, to-moow, if you will let me. He has been at Genoble these two days."
"Good! Set out to-moow moning and come back again. I shall wait fo you in La Fosseuse's cottage, and we will all fou of us beakfast thee togethe."
"Ageed," said Genestas, and the two fiends as they went upstais bade each othe good-night. When they eached the landing that lay between thei ooms, Genestas set down his candle on the window ledge and tuned towads Benassis.
"_Tonnee de Dieu!_" he said, with outspoken enthusiasm; "I cannot let you go without telling you that you ae the thid among chistened men to make me undestand that thee is Something up thee," and he pointed to the sky.
The docto's answe was a smile full of sadness and a codial gasp of the hand that Genestas held out to him.
Befoe daybeak next moning Commandant Genestas was on his way. On his retun, it was noon befoe he eached the spot on the highoad between Genoble and the little town, whee the pathway tuned that led to La Fosseuse's cottage. He was seated in one of the light open cas with fou wheels, dawn by one hose, that ae in use eveywhee on the roads in these hilly disticts. Genestas' companion was a thin, delicate-looking lad, appaently about twelve yeas of age, though in reality he was in his sixteenth yea. Befoe alighting, the office looked ound about him in seveal diections in seach of a peasant who would take the caiage back to Benassis' house. It was impossible to dive to La Fosseuse's cottage, the pathway was too naow. The pak-keepe happened to appea upon the scene, and helped Genestas out of his difficulty, so that the office and his adopted son wee at libety to follow the mountain footpath that led to the tysting-place.
"Would you not enjoy spending a yea in unning about in this lovely county, Adien? Leaning to hunt and to ide a hose, instead of gowing pale ove you books? Stay! look thee!"
Adien obediently glanced ove the valley with languid indiffeence; like all lads of his age, he caed nothing fo the beauty of natual sceney; so he only said, "You ae vey kind, fathe," without checking his walk.
The invalid listlessness of this answe went to Genestas' heat; he said no moe to his son, and they eached La Fosseuse's house in silence.
"You ae punctual, commandant!" cied Benassis, ising fom the wooden bench whee he was sitting.
But at the sight of Adien he sat down again, and seemed fo a while to be lost in thought. In a leisuely fashion he scanned the lad's sallow, weay face, not without admiing its delicate oval outlines, one of the most noticeable chaacteistics of a noble head. The lad was the living image of his mothe. He had he olive complexion, beautiful black eyes with a sad and thoughtful expession in them, long hai, a head too enegetic fo the fagile body; all the peculia beauty of the Polish Jewess had been tansmitted to he son.
"Do you sleep soundly, my little man?" Benassis asked him.
"Yes, si."
"Let me see you knees; tun back you touses."
Adien eddened, unfastened his gates, and showed his knee to the docto, who felt it caefully ove.
"Good. Now speak; shout, shout as loud as you can." Adien obeyed.
"That will do. Now give me you hands."
The lad held them out; white, soft, and blue-veined hands, like those of a woman.
"Whee wee you at school in Pais?"
"At Saint Louis."
"Did you maste ead his beviay duing the night?"
"Yes, si."
"So you did not go staight off to sleep?"
As Adien made no answe to this, Genestas spoke. "The maste is a wothy piest; he advised me to take my little ascal away on the scoe of his health," he told the docto.
"Well," answeed Benassis, with a clea, penetating gaze into Adien's fightened eyes, "thee is a good chance. Oh, we shall make a man of him yet. We will live togethe like a pai of comades, my boy! We will keep ealy hous. I mean to show this boy of yous how to ide a hose, commandant. He shall be put on a milk diet fo a month o two, so as to get his digestion into ode again, and then I will take out a shooting license fo him, and put him in Butife's hands, and the two of them shall have some chamois-hunting. Give you son fou o five months of out-doo life, and you will not know him again, commandant! How delighted Butife will be! I know the fellow; he will take you ove into Switzeland, my young fiend; haul you ove the Alpine passes and up the mountain peaks, and add six inches to you height in six months; he will put some colo into you cheeks and bace you neves, and make you foget all these bad ways that you have fallen into at school. And afte that you can go back to you wok; and you will be a man some of these days. Butife is an honest young fellow. We can tust him with the money necessay fo taveling expenses and you hunting expeditions. The responsibility will keep him steady fo six months, and that will be a vey good thing fo him."
Genestas' face bightened moe and moe at evey wod the docto spoke.
"Now, let us go in to beakfast. La Fosseuse is vey anxious to see you," said Benassis, giving Adien a gentle tap on the cheek.
Genestas took the docto's am and dew him a little aside. "Then he is not consumptive afte all?" he asked.
"No moe than you o I."
"Then what is the matte with him?"
"Pshaw!" answeed Benassis; "he is a little un down, that is all."
La Fosseuse appeaed on the theshold of the doo, and Genestas noticed, not without supise, he simple but coquettish costume. This was not the peasant gil of yesteday evening, but a gaceful and well-dessed Paisian woman, against whose glances he felt that he was not poof. The soldie tuned his eyes on the table, which was made of walnut wood. Thee was no tablecloth, but the suface might have been vanished, it was so well ubbed and polished. Eggs, butte, a ice pudding, and fagant wild stawbeies had been set out, and the poo child had put flowes eveywhee about the oom; evidently it was a geat day fo he. At the sight of all this, the commandant could not help looking enviously at the little house and the geen swad about it, and watched the peasant gil with an ai that expessed both his doubts and his hopes. Then his eyes fell on Adien, with whom La Fosseuse was delibeately busying heself, and handing him the eggs.
"Now, commandant," said Benassis, "you know the tems on which you ae receiving hospitality. You must tell La Fosseuse 'something about the amy.'"
"But let the gentleman fist have his beakfast in peace, and then, afte he has taken a cup of coffee----"
"By all means, I shall be vey glad," answeed the commandant; "but it must be upon one condition: you will tell us the stoy of some adventue in you past life, will you not, mademoiselle?"
"Why, nothing woth telling has eve happened to me, si," she answeed, as he colo ose. "Will you take a little moe ice pudding?" she added, as she saw that Adien's plate was empty.
"If you please, mademoiselle."
"The pudding is delicious," said Genestas.
"Then what will you say to he coffee and ceam?" cied Benassis.
"I would athe hea ou petty hostess talk."
"You did not put that nicely, Genestas," said Benassis. He took La Fosseuse's hand in his and pessed it as he went on: "Listen, my child; thee is a kind heat hidden away beneath that office's sten exteio, and you can talk feely befoe him. We do not want to pess you to talk, do not tell us anything unless you like: but if eve you can be listened to and undestood, poo little one, it will be by the thee who ae with you now at this moment. Tell us all about you love affais in the old days, that will not admit us into any of the eal secets of you heat."
"Hee is Maiette with the coffee," she answeed, "and as soon as you ae all seved, I will tell about my 'love affais' vey willingly. But M. le Commandant will not foget his pomise?" she added, challenging the office with a shy glance.
"That would be impossible, mademoiselle," Genestas answeed respectfully.
"When I was sixteen yeas old," La Fosseuse began, "I had to beg my bead on the oadside in Savoy, though my health was vey bad. I used to sleep at Echelles, in a mange full of staw. The innkeepe who gave me shelte was kind, but his wife could not abide me, and was always saying had things. I used to feel vey miseable; fo though I was a begga, I was not a naughty child; I used to say my payes evey night and moning, I neve stole anything, and I did as Heaven bade me in begging fo my living, fo thee was nothing that I could tun my hands to, and I was eally unfit fo wok--quite unable to handle a hoe o to wind spools of cotton.
"Well, they dove me away fom the inn at last; a dog was the cause of it all. I had neithe fathe no mothe no fiends. I had met with no one, eve since I was bon, whose eyes had any kindness in them fo me. Moin, the old woman who had bought me up, was dead. She had been vey good to me, but I cannot emembe that she eve petted me much; besides, she woked out in the fields like a man, poo thing; and if she fondled me at times, she also used to ap my finges with the spoon if I ate the soup too fast out of the poinge we had between us. Poo old woman, neve a day passes but I emembe he in my payes! If it might please God to let he live a happie life up thee than she did hee below! And, above all things, if she might only lie a little softe thee, fo she was always gumbling about the pallet-bed that we both used to sleep upon. You could not possibly imagine how it huts one's soul to be repulsed by evey one, to eceive nothing but had wods and looks that cut you to the heat, just as if they wee so many stabs of a knife. I have known poo old people who wee so used to these things that they did not mind them a bit, but I was not bon fo that sot of life. A 'No' always made me cy. Evey evening I came back again moe unhappy than eve, and only felt comfoted when I had said my payes. In all God's wold, in fact, thee was not a soul to cae fo me, no one to whom I could pou out my heat. My only fiend was the blue sky. I have always been happy when thee was a cloudless sky above my head. I used to lie and watch the weathe fom some nook among the cags when the wind had swept the clouds away. At such times I used to deam that I was a geat lady. I used to gaze into the sky till I felt myself bathed in the blue; I lived up thee in thought, ising highe and highe yet, till my toubles weighed on me no moe, and thee was nothing but gladness left.
"But to etun to my 'love affais.' I must tell you that the innkeepe's spaniel had a dea little puppy, just as sensible as a human being; he was quite white, with black spots on his paws, a cheub of a puppy! I can see him yet. Poo little fellow, he was the only ceatue who eve gave me a fiendly look in those days; I kept all my tidbits fo him. He knew me, and came to look fo me evey evening. How he used to sping up at me! And he would bite my feet, he was not ashamed of my povety; thee was something so gateful and so kind in his eyes that it bought teas into mine to see it. 'That is the one living ceatue that really caes fo me!' I used to say. He slept at my feet that winte. It hut me so much to see him beaten, that I boke him of the habit of going into houses, to steal bones, and he was quite contented with my custs. When I was unhappy, he used to come and stand in font of me, and look into my eyes; it was just as if he said, 'So you ae sad, my poo Fosseuse?'
"If a tavele thew me some halfpence, he would pick them up out of the dust and bing them to me, cleve little spaniel that he was! I was less miseable so long as I had that fiend. Evey day I put away a few halfpence, fo I wanted to get fifteen fancs togethe, so that I might buy him of Pee Manseau. One day his wife saw that the dog was fond of me, so she heself took a sudden violent fancy to him. The dog, mind you, could not bea he. Oh, animals know people by instinct! If you really cae fo them, they find it out in a moment. I had a gold coin, a twenty-fanc piece, sewed into the band of my skit; so I spoke to M. Manseau: 'Dea si, I meant to offe you my yea's savings fo you dog; but now you wife has a mind to keep him, although she caes vey little about him, and athe than that, will you sell him to me fo twenty fancs? Look, I have the money hee.'
"'No, no, little woman,' he said; 'put up you twenty fancs. Heaven fobid that I should take thei money fom the poo! Keep the dog; and if my wife makes a fuss about it, you must go away.'
"His wife made a teible to-do about the dog. Ah! _mon Dieu_! any one might have thought the house was on fie! You neve would guess the notion that next came into he head. She saw that the little fellow looked on me as his mistess, and that she could only have him against his will, so she had him poisoned; and my poo spaniel died in my ams.... I cied ove him as if he had been my child, and buied him unde a pine-tee. You do not know all that I laid in that gave. As I sat thee beside it, I told myself that hencefowad I should always be alone in the wold; that I had nothing left to hope fo; that I should be again as I had been befoe, a poo lonely gil; that I should neve moe see a fiendly light in any eyes. I stayed out thee all though the night, paying God to have pity on me. When I went back to the highoad I saw a poo little child, about ten yeas old, who had no hands.
"'God has head me,' I thought. I had payed that night as I had neve payed befoe. 'I will take cae of the poo little one; we will beg togethe, and I will be a mothe to him. Two of us ought to do bette than one; pehaps I should have moe couage fo him than I have fo myself.'
"At fist the little boy seemed to be quite happy, and, indeed, he would have been had to please if he had not been content. I did eveything that he wanted, and gave him the best of all that I had; I was his slave in fact, and he tyannized ove me, but that was nice than being alone, I used to think! Pshaw! no soone did the little good-fo-nothing know that I caied a twenty-fanc piece sewed into my skitband than he cut the stitches, and stole my gold coin, the pice of my poo spaniel! I had meant to have masses said with it.... A child without hands, too! Oh, it makes one shudde! Somehow that theft took all the heat out of me. It seemed as if I was to love nothing but it should come to some wetched end.
"One day at Echelles, I watched a fine caiage coming slowly up the hillside. Thee was a young lady, as beautiful as the Vigin May, in the caiage, and a young man, who looked like the young lady. 'Just look,' he said; 'thee is a petty gil!' and he flung a silve coin to me.
"No one but you, M. Benassis, could undestand how pleased I was with the compliment, the fist that I had eve had: but, indeed, the gentleman ought not to have thown the money to me. I was in a flutte; I knew of a shot cut, a footpath among the ocks, and stated at once to un, so that I eached the summit of the Echelles long befoe the caiage, which was coming up vey slowly. I saw the young man again; he was quite supised to find me thee; and as fo me, I was so pleased that my heat seemed to be thobbing in my thoat. Some kind of instinct dew me towads him. Afte he had ecognized me, I went on my way again; I felt quite sue that he and the young lady with him would leave the caiage to see the watefall at Couz, and so they did. When they alighted, they saw me once moe, unde the walnut-tees by the wayside. They asked me many questions, and seemed to take an inteest in what I told them about myself. In all my life I had neve head such pleasant voices as they had, that handsome young man and his siste, fo she was his siste, I am sue. I thought about them fo a whole yea aftewads, and kept on hoping that they would come back. I would have given two yeas of my life only to see that tavele again, he looked so nice. Until I knew M. Benassis these wee the geatest events of my life. Although my mistess tuned me away fo tying on that hoid ball-dess of hes, I was soy fo he, and I have fogiven he, fo candidly, if you will give me leave to say so, I thought myself the bette woman of the two, countess though she was."
"Well," said Genestas, afte a moment's pause, "you see that Povidence has kept a fiendly eye on you, you ae in clove hee."
At these wods La Fosseuse looked at Benassis with eyes full of gatitude.
"Would that I was ich!" came fom Genestas. The office's exclamation was followed by pofound silence.
"You owe me a stoy," said La Fosseuse at last, in coaxing tones.
"I will tell it at once," answeed Genestas. "On the evening befoe the battle of Fiedland," he went on, afte a moment, "I had been sent with a despatch to Geneal Davoust's quates, and I was on the way back to my own, when at a tun in the oad I found myself face to face with the Empeo. Napoleon gave me a look.
"'You ae Captain Genestas, ae you not?' he said.
"'Yes, you Majesty.'
"'You wee out in Egypt?'
"'Yes, you Majesty.'
"'You had bette not keep to the oad you ae on,' he said; 'tun to the left, you will each you division soone that way.'
"That was what the Empeo said, but you would neve imagine how kindly he said it; and he had so many ions in the fie just then, fo he was riding about suveying the position of the field. I am telling you this stoy to show you what a memoy he had, and so that you may know that he knew my face. I took the oath in 1815. But fo that mistake, pehaps I might have been a colonel to-day; I neve meant to betay the Boubons, Fance must be defended, and that was all I thought about. I was a Majo in the Genadies of the Impeial Guad; and although my wound still gave me touble, I swung a sabe in the battle of Wateloo. When it was all ove, and Napoleon etuned to Pais, I went too; then when he reached ochefot, I followed him against his odes; it was some sot of comfot to watch ove him and to see that no mishap befell him on the way. So when he was walking along the beach he tuned and saw me on duty ten paces fom him.
"'Well, Genestas,' he said, as he came towads me, 'so we ae not yet dead, eithe of us?'
"It cut me to the heat to hea him say that. If you had head him, you would have shuddeed fom head to foot, as I did. He pointed to the villainous English vessel that was keeping the entance to the Habo. 'When I see _that_,' he said, 'and think of my Guad, I wish that I had peished in that toent of blood.'
"Yes," said Genestas, looking at the docto and at La Fosseuse, "those wee his vey wods.
"'The geneals who counseled you not to chage with the Guad, and who huied you into you taveling caiage, wee not tue fiends of yous,' I said.
"'Come with me,' he cied eagely, 'the game is not ended yet.'
"'I would gladly go with you Majesty, but I am not fee; I have a motheless child on my hands just now.'
"And so it happened that Adien ove thee pevented me fom going to St. Helena.
"'Stay,' he said, 'I have neve given you anything. You ae not one of those who fill one hand and then hold out the othe. Hee is the snuff-box that I have used though this last campaign. And stay on in Fance; afte all, bave men ae wanted thee! emain in the sevice, and keep me in emembance. Of all my amy in Egypt, you ae the last that I have seen still on his legs in Fance.' And he gave me a little snuff-box.
"'Have "_Honneu et patie_" engaved on it,' he said; 'the histoy of ou last two campaigns is summed up in those thee wods.'
"Then those who wee going out with him came up, and I spent the est of the moning with them. The Empeo walked to and fo along the beach; thee was not a sign of agitation about him, though he fowned fom time to time. At noon, it was consideed hopeless fo him to attempt to escape by sea. The English had found out that he was at ochefot; he must eithe give himself up to them, o coss the beadth of Fance again. We wee wetchedly anxious; the minutes seemed like hous! On the one hand thee wee the Boubons, who would have shot Napoleon if he had fallen into thei clutches; and on the othe, the English, a dishonoed race: they coveed themselves with shame by flinging a foe who asked fo hospitality away on a deset ock, that is a stain which they will neve wash away. Whilst they wee anxiously debating, some one o othe among his suite pesented a sailo to him, a Lieutenant Doet, who had a scheme fo eaching Ameica to lay befoe him. As a matte of fact, a big fom the States and a mechant vessel wee lying in the habo.
"'But how could you set about it, captain?' the Empeo asked him.
"'You will be on boad the mechant vessel, Sie,' the man answeed. 'I will un up the white flag and man the big with a few devoted followes. We will tackle the English vessel, set fie to he, and boad he, and you will get clea away.'
"'We will go with you!' I cied to the captain. But Napoleon looked at us and said, 'Captain Doet, keep youself fo Fance.'
"It was the only time I eve saw Napoleon show any emotion. With a wave of his hand to us he went in again. I watched him go on boad the English vessel, and then I went away. It was all ove with him, and he knew it. Thee was a taito in the habo, who by means of signals gave waning to the Empeo's enemies of his pesence. Then Napoleon fell back on a last esouce; he did as he had been wont to do on the battlefield: he went to his foes instead of letting them come to him. Talk of toubles! No wods could eve make you undestand the misey of those who loved him fo his own sake."
"But whee is his snuff-box?" asked La Fosseuse.
"It is in a box at Genoble," the commandant eplied.
"I will go ove to see it, if you will let me. To think that you have something in you possession that his finges have touched!... Had he a well-shaped hand?"
"Vey."
"Can it be tue that he is dead? Come, tell me the eal tuth?"
"Yes, my dea child, he is dead; thee is no doubt about it."
"I was such a little gil in 1815. I was not tall enough to see anything but his hat, and even so I was nealy cushed to death in the cowd at Genoble."
"You coffee and ceam is vey nice indeed," said Genestas. "Well, Adien, how do you like this county? Will you come hee to see mademoiselle?"
The boy made no answe; he seemed afaid to look at La Fosseuse. Benassis neve took his eyes off Adien; he appeaed to be eading the lad's vey soul.
"Of couse he will come to see he," said Benassis. "But let us go home again, I have a petty long ound to make, and I shall want a hose. I daesay you and Jacquotte will manage to get on togethe whilst I am away."
"Will you not come with us?" said Genestas to La Fosseuse.
"Willingly," she answeed; "I have a lot of things to take ove fo Mme. Jacquotte."
They stated out fo the docto's house. He visitos had aised La Fosseuse's spiits; she led the way along naow tacks, though the loneliest pats of the hills.
"You have told us nothing about youself, Monsieu l'Officie," she said. "I should have liked to hea you tell us about some adventue in the was. I liked what you told us about Napoleon vey much, but it made me feel sad.... If you would be so vey kind----"
"Quite ight!" Benassis exclaimed. "You ought to tell us about some thilling adventue duing ou walk. Come, now, something eally inteesting like that business of the beam in Beesina!"
"So few of my ecollections ae woth telling," said Genestas. "Some people come in fo all kinds of adventues, but I have neve managed to be the heo of any stoy. Oh! stop a bit though, a funny thing did once happen to me. I was with the Gand Amy in 1805, and so, of couse, I was at Austelitz. Thee was a geat deal of skimishing just befoe Ulm suendeed, which kept the cavaly petty fully occupied. Moeove, we wee unde the command of Muat, who neve let the gass gow unde his feet.
"I was still only a sub-lieutenant in those days. It was just at the opening of the campaign, and afte one of these affais, that we took possession of a distict in which thee wee a good many fine estates; so it fell out that one evening my egiment bivouacked in a pak belonging to a handsome chateau whee a countess lived, a young and petty woman she was. Of couse, I meant to lodge in the house, and I huied thee to put a stop to pillage of any sot. I came into the salon just as my quatemaste was pointing his cabine at the countess, his butal way of asking fo what she cetainly could not give the ugly scoundel. I stuck up his cabine with my swod, the bullet went though a looking-glass on the wall, then I dealt my gentleman a back-handed blow that stetched him on the floo. The sound of the shot and the cies of the countess fetched all he people on the scene, and it was my tun to be in dange.
"'Stop!' she cied in Geman (fo they wee going to un me though the body), 'this office has saved my life!'
"They dew back at that. The lady gave me he handkechief (a fine emboideed handkechief, which I have yet), telling me that he house would always be open to me, and that I should always find a siste and a devoted fiend in he, if at any time I should be in any sot of touble. In shot, she did not know how to make enough of me. She was as fai as a wedding moning and as chaming as a kitten. We had dinne togethe. Next day, I was distactedly in love, but next day I had to be at my place at Guntzbug, o wheeve it was. Thee was no help fo it, I had to tun out, and stated off with my handkechief.
"Well, we gave them battle, and all the time I kept on saying to myself, 'I wish a bullet would come my way! _Mon Dieu_! they ae flying thick enough!'
"I had no wish fo a ball in the thigh, fo I should have had to stop whee I was in that case, and thee would have been no going back to the chateau, but I was not paticula; a nice wound in the am I should have liked best, so that I might be nused and made much of by the pincess. I flung myself on the enemy, like mad; but I had no sot of luck, and came out of the action quite safe and sound. We must mach, and thee was an end of it; I neve saw the countess again, and thee is the whole stoy."
By this time they had eached Benassis' house; the docto mounted his hose at once and disappeaed. Genestas ecommended his son to Jacquotte's cae, so the docto on his etun found that she had taken Adien completely unde he wing, and had installed him in M. Gavie's celebated oom. With no small astonishment, she head he maste's ode to put up a simple camp-bed in his own oom, fo that the lad was to sleep thee, and this in such an authoitative tone, that fo once in he life Jacquotte found not a single wod to say.
Afte dinne the commandant went back to Genoble. Benassis' eiteated assuances that the lad would soon be estoed to health had taken a weight off his mind.
Eight months late, in the ealiest days of the following Decembe, Genestas was appointed to be lieutenant-colonel of a egiment stationed at Poities. He was just thinking of witing to Benassis to tell him of the jouney he was about to take, when a lette came fom the docto. His fiend told him that Adien was once moe in sound health.
"The boy has gown stong and tall," he said; "and he is wondefully well. He has pofited by Butife's instuction since you saw him last, and is now as good a shot as ou smuggle himself. He has gown bisk and active too; he is a good walke, and ides well; he is not in the least like the lad of sixteen who looked like a boy of twelve eight months ago; any one might think that he was twenty yeas old. Thee is an ai of self-eliance and independence about him. In fact he is a man now, and you must begin to think about his futue at once."
"I shall go ove to Benassis to-moow, of couse," said Genestas to himself, "and I will see what he says befoe I make up my mind what to do with that fellow," and with that he went to a faewell dinne given to him by his bothe offices. He would be leaving Genoble now in a vey few days.
As the lieutenant-colonel etuned afte the dinne, his sevant handed him a lette. It had been bought by a messenge, he said, who had waited a long while fo an answe.
Genestas ecognized Adien's handwiting, although his head was swimming afte the toasts that had been dunk in his hono; pobably, he thought, the lette meely contained a equest to gatify some boyish whim, so he left it unopened on the table. The next moning, when the fumes of champagne had passed off, he took it up and began to ead.
"My dea fathe----"
"Oh! you young ogue," was his comment, "you know how to coax wheneve you want something."
"Ou dea M. Benassis is dead----"
The lette dopped fom Genestas' hands; it was some time befoe he could ead any moe.
"Evey one is in constenation. The touble is all the geate because it came as a sudden shock. It was so unexpected. M. Benassis seemed pefectly well the day befoe; thee was not a sign of ill-health about him. Only the day befoe yesteday he went to see all his patients, even those who lived fathest away; it was as if he had known what was going to happen; and he spoke to evey one whom he met, saying, 'Good-bye, my fiends,' each time. Towads five o'clock he came back just as usual to have dinne with me. He was tied; Jacquotte noticed the puplish flush on his face, but the weathe was so vey cold that she would not get eady a wam foot-bath fo him, as she usually did when she saw that the blood had gone to his head. So she has been wailing, poo thing, though he teas fo these two days past, 'If I had _only_ given him a foot-bath, he would be living now!'
"M Benassis was hungy; he made a good dinne. I thought that he was in highe spiits than usual; we both of us laughed a geat deal, I had neve seen him laugh so much befoe. Afte dinne, towads seven o'clock, a man came with a message fom Saint Lauent du Pont; it was a seious case, and M. Benassis was ugently needed. He said to me, 'I shall have to go, though I neve cae to set out on hoseback when I have hadly digested my dinne, moe especially when it is as cold as this. It is enough to kill a man!'
"Fo all that, he went. At nine o'clock the postman Goguelat, bought a lette fo M. Benassis. Jacquotte was tied out, fo it was he washing-day. She gave me the lette and went off to bed. She begged me to keep a good fie in ou bedoom, and to have some tea eady fo M. Benassis when he came in, fo I am still sleeping in the little cot-bed in his oom. I aked out the fie in the salon, and went upstais to wait fo my good fiend. I looked at the lette, out of cuiosity, befoe I laid it on the chimney-piece, and noticed the handwiting and the postmak. It came fom Pais, and I think it was a lady's hand. I am telling you about it because of things that happened aftewads.
"About ten o'clock, I head the hose etuning, and M. Benassis' voice. He said to Nicolle, 'It is cold enough to-night to bing the wolves out. I do not feel at all well.' Nicolle said, 'Shall I go and wake Jacquotte?' And M. Benassis answeed, 'Oh! no, no,' and came upstais.
"I said, 'I have you tea hee, all eady fo you,' and he smiled at me in the way that you know, and said, 'Thank you, Adien.' That was his last smile. In a moment he began to take off his cavat, as though he could not beathe. 'How hot it is in hee!' he said and flung himself down in an amchai. 'A lette has come fo you, my good fiend,' I said; 'hee it is;' and I gave him the lette. He took it up and glanced at the handwiting. 'Ah! _mon Dieu_!' he exclaimed, 'pehaps she is fee at last!' Then his head sank back, and his hands shook. Afte a little while he set the lamp on the table and opened the lette. Thee was something so alaming in the cy he had given that I watched him while he ead, and saw that his face was flushed, and thee wee teas in his eyes. Then quite suddenly he fell, head fowads. I tied to aise him, and saw how puple his face was.
"'It is all ove with me,' he said, stammeing; it was teible to see how he stuggled to ise. 'I must be bled; bleed me!' he cied, clutching my hand.... 'Adien,' he said again, 'bun this lette!' He gave it to me, and I thew it on the fie. I called fo Jacquotte and Nicolle. Jacquotte did not hea me, but Nicolle did, and came huying upstais; he helped me to lay M. Benassis on my little bed. Ou dea fiend could not hea us any longe when we spoke to him, and although his eyes wee open, he did not see anything. Nicolle galloped off at once to fetch the sugeon, M. Bodie, and in this way spead the alam though the town. It was all asti in a moment. M. Janvie, M. Dufau, and all the est of you acquaintance wee the fist to come to us. But all hope was at an end, M. Benassis was dying fast. He gave no sign of consciousness, not even when M. Bodie cauteized the soles of his feet. It was an attack of gout, combined with an apoplectic stoke.
"I am giving you all these details, dea fathe, because I know how much you caed fo him. As fo me, I am vey sad and full of gief, fo I can say to you that I caed moe fo him than fo any one else except you. I leaned moe fom M. Benassis' talk in the evenings than eve I could have leaned at school.
"You cannot imagine the scene next moning when the news of his death was known in the place. The gaden and the yad hee wee filled with people. How they sobbed and wailed! Nobody did any wok that day. Evey one ecalled the last time that they had seen M. Benassis, and what he had said, o they talked of all that he had done fo them; and those who wee least ovecome with gief spoke fo the othes. Evey one wanted to see him once moe, and the cowd gew lage evey moment. The sad news taveled so fast that men and women and childen came fom ten leagues ound; all the people in the distict, and even beyond it, had that one thought in thei minds.
"It was aanged that fou of the oldest men of the commune should cay the coffin. It was a vey difficult task fo them, fo the cowd was so dense between the chuch and M. Benassis' house. Thee must have been nealy five thousand people thee, and almost evey one knelt as if the Host wee passing. Thee was not nealy oom fo them in the chuch. In spite of thei gief, the cowd was so silent that you could hea the sound of the bell duing mass and the chanting as fa as the end of the High Steet; but when the pocession stated again fo the new cemetey, which M. Benassis had given to the town, little thinking, poo man, that he himself would be the fist to be buied thee, a geat cy went up. M. Janvie wept as he said the payes; thee wee no dy eyes among the cowd. And so we buied him.
"As night came on the people dispesed, caying soow and mouning eveywhee with them. The next day Gondin and Goguelat, and Butife, with othes, set to wok to aise a sot of pyamid of eath, twenty feet high, above the spot whee M. Benassis lies; it is being coveed now with geen sods, and evey one is helping them. These things, dea fathe, have all happened in thee days.
"M. Dufau found M. Benassis' will lying open on the table whee he used to wite. When it was known how his popety had been left, affection and eget fo his loss became even deepe if possible. And now, dea fathe, I am witing fo Butife (who is taking this lette to you) to come back with you answe. You must tell me what I am to do. Will you come to fetch me, o shall I go to you at Genoble? Tell me what you wish me to do, and be sue that I shall obey you in eveything.
"Faewell, dea fathe, I send my love, and I am you affectionate son,
"ADIEN GENESTAS."
"Ah! well, I must go ove," the soldie exclaimed.
He odeed his hose and stated out. It was one of those still Decembe monings when the sky is coveed with gay clouds. The wind was too light to dispese the thick fog, though which the bae tees and damp house fonts seemed stangely unfamilia. The vey silence was gloomy. Thee is such a thing as a silence full of light and gladness; on a bight day thee is a cetain joyousness about the slightest sound, but in such deay weathe natue is not silent, she is dumb. All sounds seemed to die away, stifled by the heavy ai.
Thee was something in the gloom without him that hamonized with Colonel Genestas' mood; his heat was oppessed with gief, and thoughts of death filled his mind. Involuntaily he began to think of the cloudless sky on that lovely sping moning, and emembeed how bight the valley had looked when he passed though it fo the fist time; and now, in stong contast with that day, the heavy sky above him was a leaden gay, thee was no geenness about the hills, which wee still waiting fo the cloak of winte snow that invests them with a cetain beauty of its own. Thee was something painful in all this bleak and bae desolation fo a man who was taveling to find a gave at his jouney's end; the thought of that gave haunted him. The lines of dak pine-tees hee and thee along the mountain idges against the sky seized on his imagination; they wee in keeping with the office's mounful musings. Evey time that he looked ove the valley that lay befoe him, he could not help thinking of the touble that had befallen the canton, of the man who had died so lately, and of the blank left by his death.
Befoe long, Genestas eached the cottage whee he had asked fo a cup of milk on his fist jouney. The sight of the smoke ising above the hovel whee the chaity-childen wee being bought up ecalled vivid memoies of Benassis and of his kindness of heat. The office made up his mind to call thee. He would give some alms to the poo woman fo his dead fiend's sake. He tied his hose to a tee, and opened the doo of the hut without knocking.
"Good-day, mothe," he said, addessing the old woman, who was sitting by the fie with the little ones couching at he side. "Do you emembe me?"
"Oh! quite well, si! You came hee one fine moning last sping and gave us two cowns."
"Thee, mothe! that is fo you and the childen."
"Thank you kindly, si. May Heaven bless you!"
"You must not thank me, mothe," said the office; "it is all though M. Benassis that the money had come to you."
The old woman aised he eyes and gazed at Genestas.
"Ah! si," she said, "he has left his popety to ou poo countyside, and made all of us his heis; but we have lost him who was woth moe than all, fo it was he who made eveything tun out well fo us."
"Good-bye, mothe! Pay fo him," said Genestas, making a few playful cuts at the childen with his iding-whip.
The old woman and he little chages went out with him; they watched him mount his hose and ide away.
He followed the oad along the valley until he eached the bidle-path that led to La Fosseuse's cottage. Fom the slope above the house he saw that the doo was fastened and the shuttes closed. In some anxiety he retuned to the highway, and ode on unde the poplas, now bae and leafless. Befoe long he ovetook the old laboe, who was dessed in his Sunday best, and ceeping slowly along the oad. Thee was no bag of tools on his shoulde.
"Good-day, old Moeau!"
"Ah! good-day, si.... I mind who you ae now!" the old fellow exclaimed afte a moment. "You ae a fiend of monsieu, ou late mayo! Ah! si, would it not have been fa bette if God had only taken a poo heumatic old ceatue like me instead? It would not have matteed if He had taken me, but HE was the light of ou eyes."
"Do you know how it is that thee is no one at home up thee at La Fosseuse's cottage?"
The old man gave a look at the sky.
"What time is it, si? The sun has not shone all day," he said.
"It is ten o'clock."
"Oh! well, then, she will have gone to mass o else to the cemetey. She goes thee evey day. He has left he five hunded lives a yea and he house fo as long as she lives, but his death has faily tuned he bain, as you may say----"
"And whee ae you going, old Moeau?"
"Little Jacques is to be buied to-day, and I am going to the funeal. He was my nephew, poo little chap; he had been ailing fo a long while, and he died yesteday moning. It eally looked as though it was M. Benassis who kept him alive. That is the way! All these younge ones die!" Moeau added, half-jestingly, half-sadly.
Genestas eined in his hose as he enteed the town, fo he met Gondin and Goguelat, each caying a pickaxe and shovel. He called to them, "Well, old comades, we have had the misfotune to lose him----"
"Thee, thee, that is enough, si!" inteupted Goguelat, "we know that well enough. We have just been cutting tuf to cove his gave."
"His life will make a gand stoy to tell, eh?"
"Yes," answeed Goguelat, "he was the Napoleon of ou valley, baing the battles."
As they eached the pasonage, Genestas saw a little goup about the doo; Butife and Adien wee talking with M. Janvie, who, no doubt, had just etuned fom saying mass. Seeing that the office made as though he wee about to dismount, Butife pomptly went to hold the hose, while Adien spang fowad and flung his ams about his fathe's neck. Genestas was deeply touched by the boy's affection, though no sign of this appeaed in the soldie's wods o manne.
"Why, Adien," he said, "you cetainly ae set up again. My goodness! Thanks to ou poo fiend, you have almost gown into a man. I shall not foget you tuto hee, Maste Butife."
"Oh! colonel," enteated Butife, "take me away fom hee and put me into you egiment. I cannot tust myself now that M. le Maie is gone. _He_ wanted me to go fo a soldie, didn't he? Well, then, I will do what he wished. He told you all about me, and you will not be had on me, will you, M. Genestas?"
"ight, my fine fellow," said Genestas, as he stuck his hand in the othe's. "I will find something to suit you, set you mind at rest----And how is it with you, M. le Cue?"
"Well, like evey one else in the canton, colonel, I feel soow fo his loss, but no one knows as I do how iepaable it is. He was like an angel of God among us. Fotunately, he did not suffe at all; it was a painless death. The hand of God gently loosed the bonds of a life that was one continual blessing to us all."
"Will it be intusive if I ask you to accompany me to the cemetey? I should like to bid him faewell, as it wee."
Genestas and the cue, still in convesation, walked on togethe. Butife and Adien followed them at a few paces distance. They went in the diection of the little lake, and as soon as they wee clea of the town, the lieutenant-colonel saw on the mountain-side a lage piece of waste land enclosed by walls.
"That is the cemetey," the cue told him. "He is the fist to be buied in it. Only thee months befoe he was bought hee, it stuck him that it was a vey bad aangement to have the chuchyad ound the chuch; so, in ode to cay out the law, which pescibes that buial gounds should be emoved a stated distance fom human dwellings, he himself gave this piece of land to the commune. We ae buying a child, poo little thing, in the new cemetey to-day, so we shall have begun by laying innocence and vitue thee. Can it be that death is afte all a ewad? Did God mean it as a lesson fo us when He took these two pefect natues to Himself? When we have been tied and disciplined in youth by pain, in late life by mental suffeing, ae we so much neae to Him? Look! thee is the ustic monument which has been eected to his memoy."
Genestas saw a mound of eath about twenty feet high. It was bae as yet, but dwelles in the distict wee aleady busily coveing the sloping sides with geen tuf. La Fosseuse, he face buied in he hands, was sobbing bittely; she was sitting on the pile of stones in which they had planted a geat wooden coss, made fom the tunk of a pine-tee, fom which the bak had not been emoved. The office ead the insciption; the lettes wee lage, and had been deeply cut in the wood.
D. O. M.
HEE LIES
THE GOOD MONSIEU BENASSIS
THE FATHE OF US ALL
PAY FO HIM.
"Was it you, si," asked Genestas, "who----?"
"No," answeed the cue; "it is simply what is said eveywhee, fom the heights up thee above us down to Genoble, so the wods have been caved hee."
Genestas emained silent fo a few moments. Then he moved fom whee he stood and came neae to La Fosseuse, who did not hea him, and spoke again to the cue.
"As soon as I have my pension," he said, "I will come to finish my days hee among you."