France -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction
"Shall I bring you a bowl of milk, Monsieur Jean?"
"If you please!"
And closing the door, I flung myself on the lounge and sobbed for a
long, long time.
The next day I got up at dawn.... The Priory had not changed much:
there was only more grass in the alleys, more moss on the steps, and a
few trees were dead. Again I saw the gate, the scurfy lawn, the puny
looking sorbs, the aged chestnut trees. Again I saw the basin where the
little kitten had been shot, the curtain of fir trees which hid the
commons from view, the abandoned study; I saw the park, its twisted
trees and stone benches that looked like ancient tombs.... In the
kitchen garden Felix was digging a border bed for flowers.... Ah! poor
man, how battered his frame was!
He showed me a hawthorn and said:
"That is where you used to come with your poor deceased father to lie
in wait for the blackbirds.... Do you remember, Monsieur Jean?"
"Yes, yes, Felix!"
"And also the thrush?"
"Yes, yes, Felix!"
I walked away. I could not bear the sight of this old man any longer,
this man who thought he was going to live to the end of his days at the
Priory and whom I was about to drive out ... and where was he to go?...
He had served us faithfully, he was almost one of our family, poor,
unable to gain a livelihood otherwise. And I was going to chase him
out!... Ah! How could I bring myself to do that?
At breakfast Marie seemed nervous. She walked around my chair,
unusually excited.
"Beg pardon!" she said to me at last, "I must clear up all my doubts
about this matter.... Is it true that you are selling the Priory?..."
"Yes, Marie."
The old woman opened wide her eyes, stupefied, and, placing her hands
on the table, repeated:
"You are selling the Priory?"
"Yes, Marie."
"The Priory where all your family was born?... The Priory where your
father and your mother died?... The Priory, Holy Jesus!"
"Yes, Marie."
She recoiled as if frightened.
"Then you are a wicked son, Monsieur Jean!"
I made no reply. Marie left the dining room and did not speak to me any
more.
Two days later, my business having been attended to, the deed signed,
I left.... My money was hardly enough to last me a month.... I was
done for! Overwhelming debts, ignoble debts was all that was left to
me!... Ah! if the train could only carry me on and on, always further
on, never to arrive anywhere!... It was only in Paris that I reminded
myself that I had not even gone to kneel down at the grave of my father
and mother.
Juliette received me tenderly. She embraced me passionately.
"Ah! dear, dear!... I thought you would never come back!... Five days,
just think of it!... Next time if you have to go again I want to go
with you."
She appeared so affectionate, so truly moved, her caresses gave me such
confidence, and then the burden on my soul was so heavy, that I did not
hesitate to tell her everything. I took her in my arms and put her on
my lap.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account