Country life -- Fiction; French fiction -- Translations into English; Peasants -- France -- Fiction
At nightfall she made an effort to collect her powers; and when she
heard Jeannie come home singing with the flock, she rose with difficulty
and set about preparing supper. Shortly afterward, she heard the noise
of the return of the oxen, who were drawing home the oak-tree that
Blanchet had bought, and Jeannie ran joyfully to meet his friend
François, whose presence he had missed all day. Poor little Jeannie had
been grieved for a moment by his father's cruel behaviour to his dear
mother, and he had run off to cry in the fields, without knowing what
the quarrel could be. But a child's sorrow lasts no longer than the dew
of the morning, and he had already forgotten his trouble. He took
François by the hand, and skipping as gaily as a little partridge,
brought him to Madeleine.
There was no need for the waif to look twice to see that her eyes were
reddened and her face blanched.
"Good God," thought he, "some misfortune has happened." Then he turned
pale too, and trembled, fixing his eyes on Madeleine, and expecting her
to speak to him. She made him sit down, and set his meal before him in
silence, but he could not swallow a mouthful. Jeannie eat and prattled
on by himself; he felt no uneasiness, for his mother kissed him from
time to time and encouraged him to make a good supper.
When he had gone to bed, and the servant was putting the room in order,
Madeleine went out, and beckoned François to follow her. She walked
through the meadow as far as the fountain, and then calling all her
courage to her aid, she said:
"My child, misfortune has fallen upon you and me, and God strikes us
both a heavy blow. You see how much I suffer, and out of love for me,
try to strengthen your own heart, for if you do not uphold me, I cannot
tell what will become of me."
François guessed nothing, although he at once supposed that the trouble
came from Monsieur Blanchet.
"What are you saying?" said he to Madeleine, kissing her hands as if she
were his mother. "How can you think that I shall not have courage to
comfort and sustain you? Am not I your servant for as long as I have to
stay upon the earth? Am not I your child, who will work for you, and is
now strong enough to keep you from want. Leave Monsieur Blanchet alone,
let him squander his money, since it is his choice. I shall feed and
clothe both you and our Jeannie. If I must leave you for a time, I shall
go and hire myself out, though not far from here, so that I can see you
every day, and come and spend Sundays with you. I am strong enough now
to work and earn all the money you need. You are so careful and live on
so little. Now you will not be able to deny yourself so many things for
others, and you will be the better for it. Come, Madame Blanchet, my
dear mother, calm yourself and do not cry, or I think I shall die of
grief."
When Madeleine saw that he had not understood, and that she must tell
him everything, she commended her soul to God, and made up her mind to
inflict this great pain upon him.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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