The Works of Guy de Maupassant, Volume 3Maupassant, Guy de
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The Works of Guy de Maupassant, Volume 3
Maupassant, Guy de
French fiction -- Translations into English; Short stories, French -- Translations into English
Alas! we who knew how to avenge our comrade, ought to have thought that
this woman would know how to avenge her husband, and have been on our
guard. It is true that one of us kept watch every night, and that at
first we tied her by a long rope to the great oak bench that was
fastened to the wall. But, by and by, as she had never tried to escape,
in spite of her hatred for us, we relaxed our extreme prudence, and
allowed her to sleep somewhere else except on the bench, and without
being tied. What had we to fear? She was at the end of the room, a man
was on guard at the door, and between her and the sentinel the captain's
wife and two other men used to lie. She was alone and unarmed against
four, so there could be no danger.
One night when we were asleep, and the captain was on guard, the
lancer's wife was lying more quietly in her corner than usual, and she
had even smiled for the first time since she had been our prisoner,
during the evening. Suddenly, however, in the middle of the night, we
were all awakened by a terrible cry. We got up, groping about and
scarcely were we up when we stumbled over a furious couple who were
rolling about and fighting on the ground. It was the captain and the
lancer's wife. We threw ourselves on to them, and separated them in a
moment. She was shouting and laughing, and he seemed to have the death
rattle. All this took place in the dark. Two of us held her, and when a
light was struck, a terrible sight met our eyes. The captain was lying
on the floor in a pool of blood, with an enormous wound in his throat,
and his sword bayonet that had been taken from his rifle, was sticking
in the red, gaping wound. A few minutes afterwards he died, without
having been able to utter a word.
His wife did not shed a tear. Her eyes were dry, her throat was
contracted, and she looked at the lancer's wife steadfastly, and with a
calm ferocity that inspired fear.
"This woman belongs to me," she said to us suddenly. "You swore to me
not a week ago, to let me kill her as I chose, if she killed my husband,
and you must keep your oath. You must fasten her securely to the
fireplace, upright against the back of it, and then you can go where you
like, but far from here. I will take my revenge on her to myself. Leave
the captain's body, and we three, he, she, and I, will remain here."
We obeyed and went away. She promised to write to us to Geneva, as we
were returning there.
VI
Two days later, I received the following letter, dated the day after we
had left, and that had been written at an inn on the high road:
"MY FRIEND,
"I am writing to you, according to my promise. For the moment I am
at the inn, where I have just handed my prisoner over to a Prussian
officer.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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