Death -- Fiction; France -- Fiction; Villages -- France -- Fiction
Then, sobbing and staggering, Louise fell into her father's arms; and,
sinking together upon one of the forms of the classroom, they long
remained there, weeping together. Night had completely fallen now,
nothing but the faint sound of their sobs was to be heard in the large
dark room. The deep silence of abandonment and mourning filled the
empty house. The wife, the mother, had gone, stolen from the husband
and the child, in order that they might be tortured, cast into despair.
Before Marc's tearful eyes there rose the whole machination, the
hypocritical, underhand efforts of years, which now wrenched from him
the wife whom he adored, in order to weaken him and goad him into some
sudden rebellion which would sweep both his work and himself away. His
heart bled, but he had found the strength to accept his torture, and
none would ever know his distress, for none could see him sobbing with
his daughter in the darkness of his deserted home, like a poor man who
had nought left him save that child, and who was seized with terror at
the thought that she likewise might be wrested from him, some day.
A little later that same evening, as Marc had to conduct a course
of evening lessons for adults, the four gas jets of the classroom
were lighted, and students flocked in. Several of his former pupils,
artisans and young men of modest commercial pursuits, assiduously
followed these courses of history, geography, physical and natural
science. And for an hour and a half Marc, installed at his desk, spoke
on very clearly, contending with error and conveying a little truth to
the minds of the humble. But all the time frightful grief was consuming
him, his home was pillaged, destroyed, his love bewailed the lost wife
whom he would find no longer overhead, in the room once warm with
tender love, and now so cold.
Nevertheless, like the obscure hero he was, he bravely pursued his
work.
BOOK III
I
Directly the Court of Cassation started on its inquiry, David and
Marc, meeting one evening in the Lehmanns' dark little shop, decided
that it would be best to abstain from all agitation, and remain in the
background. Now that the idea of a revision of the case was accepted,
the family's great joy and hope had restored its courage. If the
inquiry should be loyally conducted by the Court, Simon's innocence
would surely be recognised, and acquittal would become certain. So
it would suffice to remain wakeful and watchful of the march of the
affair, without exhibiting any doubt of the conscientiousness and
equity of the highest judges in the land.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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