The works of Guy de Maupassant, Vol. 5: Une Vie and Other StoriesMaupassant, Guy de
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The works of Guy de Maupassant, Vol. 5: Une Vie and Other Stories
Maupassant, Guy de
French fiction -- Translations into English; Short stories, French -- Translations into English
He no longer ventured to speak, keeping his eyes fixed on the table
which stood in the center of the room, with three covers laid on it,
one of which was for a child. He glanced at the chair which had its back
turned to the fire. They had been expecting him. That was his bread
which he saw, and which he recognized near the fork, for the crust had
been removed on account of Hautot's bad teeth. Then, raising his eyes,
he noticed on the wall his father's portrait, the large photograph taken
at Paris the year of the exhibition, the same as that which hung above
the bed in the sleeping apartment at Ainville.
The young woman again asked:
"Well, Monsieur Cesar?"
He kept staring at her. Her face was livid with anguish; and she waited,
her hands trembling with fear.
Then he took courage.
"Well, Mam'zelle, papa died on Sunday last just after he had opened the
shooting."
She was so much overwhelmed that she did not move. After a silence of a
few seconds, she faltered in an almost inaudible tone:
"Oh! it is not possible!"
Then, on a sudden, tears showed themselves in her eyes, and covering her
face with her hands, she burst out sobbing.
At that point the little boy turned round, and, seeing his mother
weeping, began to howl. Then, realizing that this sudden trouble was
brought about by the stranger, he rushed at Cesar, caught hold of his
breeches with one hand, and with the other hit him with all his strength
on the thigh. And Cesar remained agitated, deeply affected, with this
woman mourning for his father at one side of him, and the little boy
defending his mother at the other. He felt their emotion taking
possession of himself, and his eyes were beginning to brim over with the
same sorrow; so, to recover her self-command, he began to talk:
"Yes," he said, "the accident occurred on Sunday, at eight o'clock--."
And he told, as if she were listening to him, all the facts without
forgetting a single detail, mentioning the most trivial matters with the
minuteness of a countryman. And the child still kept assailing him,
making kicks at his ankles.
When he came to the time at which his father had spoken about her, her
attention was caught by hearing her own name, and, uncovering her face
she said:
"Pardon me! I was not following you; I would like to know--If you did
not mind beginning over again."
He related everything at great length, with stoppages, breaks and
reflections of his own from time to time. She listened to him eagerly
now perceiving with a woman's keen sensibility all the sudden changes of
fortune which his narrative indicated, and trembling with horror, every
now and then, exclaiming:
"Oh, my God!"
The little fellow, believing that she had calmed down, ceased beating
Cesar, in order to catch his mother's hand, and he listened, too, as if
he understood.
When the narrative was finished, young Hautot continued:
"Now we will settle matters together in accordance with his wishes."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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