Death -- Fiction; France -- Fiction; Villages -- France -- Fiction
But bad though the news might be, Marc forced himself to remain
hopeful. He was very much encouraged by the brave fidelity of his
assistant, Mignot, who each day took a larger share in his life of
devotion and battle. A singular moral phenomenon had manifested itself
in this transformation in which one observed the slowly increasing
influence of a master over a disciple, who at first had rebelled,
then had been won back and gradually absorbed. In former times nobody
would have suspected there was such heroic stuff in Mignot as now
began to appear. In the affair he had behaved in a most equivocal
manner, helping on the charges against Simon, and particularly
endeavouring to avoid everything compromising. It had seemed as if
his only thoughts were of his own advancement. Neither good nor bad,
he had been liable at that time to turn out well or ill, according to
circumstances and associates. And Marc had come, and had proved to
be the man of intellect and will who was to decide the fate of that
conscience, embellish it, and raise it to a perception of truth and
justice. The lesson shone forth, luminous and positive; example, the
teaching of a hero, sufficed to make other heroes arise from among the
vague dim masses of average folk. On two occasions during the last ten
years there had been a desire to appoint Mignot as head-master in a
neighbouring little village, but he had declined the offer, preferring
to remain by the side of Marc, whose influence over him had become
so great that he spoke of never leaving him, of remaining to the end
his faithful disciple, resolutely sharing his victory or defeat. In
the same way, after postponing in a spirit of expectant prudence the
question whether he would marry or not, he had decided to remain a
bachelor, saying that it was too late for him to seek a wife, and that
his pupils had now become his family. Besides, did he not take his
meals at Marc's, where he was greeted as a brother, making that home
his own, and enjoying all the delights of the nearest ties, those which
are drawn closer and closer as, by degrees, one thinks and feels the
same as one's fellow?
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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