original short stories-13-第13章

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they　answer　with　their　eyes；　which　see；　think；　follow　us　without　leaving
us；　from　the　very　moment　we　enter　the　apartment　they　inhabit。　　This　one
did　not　see　me；　it　saw　nothing；　although　its　look　was　fixed　directly　on
me。　　I　remembered　the　surprising　verse　of　Baudelaire：

And　your　eyes；　attractive　as　those　of　a　portrait。

They　did　indeed　attract　me　in　an　irresistible　manner；　those　painted　eyes
which　had　lived；　or　which　were　perhaps　still　living；　threw　over　me　a
strange；　powerful　spell。　　Oh；　what　an　infinite　and　tender　charm；　like　a
passing　breeze；　like　a　dying　sunset　of　lilac　rose　and　blue；　a　little　sad
like　the　approaching　night；　which　comes　behind　the　sombre　frame　and　out
of　those　impenetrable　eyes！　　Those　eyes；　created　by　a　few　strokes　from　a
brush；　hide　behind　them　the　mystery　of　that　which　seems　to　be　and　which
does　not　exist；　which　can　appear　in　the　eyes　of　a　woman；　which　can　make
love　blossom　within　us。

The　door　opened　and　M。　Milial　entered。　　He　excused　himself　for　being
late。　　I　excused　myself　for　being　ahead　of　time。　　Then　I　said：　〃Might　I
ask　you　who　is　this　lady？〃

He　answered：　〃That　is　my　mother。　　She　died　very　young。〃

Then　I　understood　whence　came　the　inexplicable　attraction　of　this　man。






THE　DRUNKARD

The　north　wind　was　blowing　a　hurricane；　driving　through　the　sky　big；
black；　heavy　clouds　from　which　the　rain　poured　down　on　the　earth　with
terrific　violence。

A　high　sea　was　raging　and　dashing　its　huge；　slow；　foamy　waves　along　the
coast　with　the　rumbling　sound　of　thunder。　　The　waves　followed　each　other
close；　rolling　in　as　high　as　mountains；　scattering　the　foam　as　they
broke。

The　storm　engulfed　itself　in　the　little　valley　of　Yport；　whistling　and
moaning；　tearing　the　shingles　from　the　roofs；　smashing　the　shutters；
knocking　down　the　chimneys；　rushing　through　the　narrow　streets　in　such
gusts　that　one　could　walk　only　by　holding　on　to　the　walls；　and　children
would　have　been　lifted　up　like　leaves　and　carried　over　the　houses　into
the　fields。

The　fishing　smacks　had　been　hauled　high　up　on　land；　because　at　high　tide
the　sea　would　sweep　the　beach。　　Several　sailors；　sheltered　behind　the
curved　bottoms　of　their　boats；　were　watching　this　battle　of　the　sky　and
the　sea。

Then；　one　by　one；　they　went　away；　for　night　was　falling　on　the　storm；
wrapping　in　shadows　the　raging　ocean　and　all　the　battling　elements。

Just　two　men　remained；　their　hands　plunged　deep　into　their　pockets；
bending　their　backs　beneath　the　squall；　their　woolen　caps　pulled　down
over　their　ears；　two　big　Normandy　fishermen；　bearded；　their　skin　tanned
through　exposure；　with　the　piercing　black　eyes　of　the　sailor　who　looks
over　the　horizon　like　a　bird　of　prey。

One　of　them　was　saying：

〃Come　on；　Jeremie；　let's　go　play　dominoes。　　It's　my　treat。〃

The　other　hesitated　a　while；　tempted　on　one　hand　by　the　game　and　the
thought　of　brandy；　knowing　well　that；　if　he　went　to　Paumelle's；　he　would
return　home　drunk；　held　back；　on　the　other　hand；　by　the　idea　of　his　wife
remaining　alone　in　the　house。

He　asked：

〃Any　one　might　think　that　you　had　made　a　bet　to　get　me　drunk　every　night。
Say；　what　good　is　it　doing　you；　since　it's　always　you　that's　treating？〃

Nevertheless　he　was　smiling　at　the　idea　of　all　this　brandy　drunk　at　the
expense　of　another。　　He　was　smiling　the　contented　smirk　of　an　avaricious
Norman。

Mathurin；　his　friend；　kept　pulling　him　by　the　sleeve。

〃Come　on；　Jeremie。　　This　isn't　the　kind　of　a　night　to　go　home　without
anything　to　warm　you　up。　　What　are　you　afraid　of？　　Isn't　your　wife　going
to　warm　your　bed　for　you？〃

Jeremie　answered：

〃The　other　night　I　couldn't　find　the　doorI　had　to　be　fished　out　of　the
ditch　in　front　of　the　house！〃

He　was　still　laughing　at　this　drunkard's　recollection；　and　he　was
unconsciously　going　toward　Paumelle's　Cafe；　where　a　light　was　shining　in
the　window；　he　was　going；　pulled　by　Mathurin　and　pushed　by　the　wind；
unable　to　resist　these　combined　forces。

The　low　room　was　full　of　sailors；　smoke　and　noise。　　All　these　men；　clad
in　woolens；　their　elbows　on　the　tables；　were　shouting　to　make　themselves
heard。　　The　more　people　came　in；　the　more　one　had　to　shout　in　order　to
overcome　the　noise　of　voices　and　the　rattling　of　dominoes　on　the　marble
tables。

Jeremie　and　Mathurin　sat　down　in　a　corner　and　began　a　game；　and　the
glasses　were　emptied　in　rapid　succession　into　their　thirsty　throats。

Then　they　played　more　games　and　drank　more　glasses。　　Mathurin　kept
pouring　and　winking　to　the　saloon　keeper；　a　big；　red…faced　man；　who
chuckled　as　though　at　the　thought　of　some　fine　joke；　and　Jeremie　kept
absorbing　alcohol　and　wagging　his　head；　giving　vent　to　a　roar　of　laughter
and　looking　at　his　comrade　with　a　stupid　and　contented　expression。

All　the　customers　were　going　away。　　Every　time　that　one　of　them　would
open　the　door　to　leave　a　gust　of　wind　would　blow　into　the　cafe；　making
the　tobacco　smoke　swirl　around；　swinging　the　lamps　at　the　end　of　their
chains　and　making　their　flames　flicker；　and　suddenly　one　could　hear　the
deep　booming　of　a　breaking　wave　and　the　moaning　of　the　wind。

Jeremie；　his　collar　unbuttoned；　was　taking　drunkard's　poses；　one　leg
outstretched；　one　arm　hanging　down　and　in　the　other　hand　holding　a
domino。

They　were　alone　now　with　the　owner；　who　had　come　up　to　them；　interested。

He　asked：

〃Well；　Jeremie；　how　goes　it　inside？　　Feel　less　thirsty　after　wetting　your
throat？〃

Jeremie　muttered：

〃The　more　I　wet　it；　the　drier　it　gets　inside。〃

The　innkeeper　cast　a　sly　glance　at　Mathurin。　　He　said：

〃And　your　brother；　Mathurin；　where's　he　now？〃

The　sailor　laughed　silently：

〃Don't　worry；　he's　warm；　all　right。〃

And　both　of　them　looked　toward　Jeremie；　who　was　triumphantly　putting　down
the　double　six　and　announcing：

〃Game！〃

Then　the　owner　declared：

〃Well；　boys；　I'm　goin'　to　bed。　　I　will　leave　you　the　lamp　and　the　bottle；
there's　twenty　cents'　worth　in　it。　　Lock　the　door　when　you　go；　Mathurin；
and　slip　the　key　under　the　mat　the　way　you　did　the　other　night。〃

Mathurin　answered：

〃Don't　worry；　it'll　be　all　right。〃

Paumelle　shook　hands　with　his　two　customers　and　slowly　went　up　the　wooden
stairs。　　For　several　minutes　his　heavy　step　echoed　through　the　little
house。　　Then　a　loud　creaking　announced　that　he　had　got　into　bed。

The　two　men　continued　to　play。　　From　time　to　time　a　more　violent　gust　of
wind　would　shake　the　whole　house；　and　the　two　drinkers　would　look　up；　as
though　some　one　were　about　to　enter。　　Then　Mathurin　would　take　the　bottle
and　fill　Jeremie's　glass。　　But　suddenly　the　clock　over　the　bar　struck
twelve。　　Its　hoarse　clang　sounded　like　the　rattling　of　saucepans。　　Then
Mathurin　got　up　like　a　sailor　whose　watch　is　over。

〃Come　on；　Jeremie；　we've　got　to　get　out。〃

The　other　man　rose　to　his　feet　with　difficulty；　got　his　balance　by
leaning　on　the　table；　reached　the　door　and　opened　it　while　his　companion
was　putting　out　the　light。

As　soon　as　they　were　in　the　street　Mathurin　locked　the　door　and　then
said：

〃Well；　so　long。　　See　you　to…morrow　night！〃

And　he　disappeared　in　the　darkness。

Jeremie　took　a　few　steps；　staggered；　stretched　out　his　hands；　met　a　wall
which　supported　him　and　began　to　stumble　along。　　From　time　to　time　a　gust
of　wind　would　sweep　through　the　street；　pushing　him　forward；　making　him
run　for　a　few　steps；　then；　when　the　wind　would　die　down；　he　would　stop
short；　having　lost　his　impetus；　and　once　more　he　would　begin　to　stagger
on　his　unsteady　drunkard's　legs。

He　went　instinctively　toward　his　home；　just　as　birds　go　to　their　nests。
Finally　he　recognized　his　door；　and　began　to　feel　about　for　the　keyhole
and　tried　to　put　the　key　in　it。　　Not　finding　the　hole；　he　began　to　swear。
Then　he　began　to　beat　on　the　door　with　his　fists；　calling　for　his　wife　to
come　and　help　him：

〃Melina！　　Oh；　Melina！〃

As　he　leaned　against　the　door　for　support；　it　gave　way　and　opened；　and
Jeremie；　losing　his　prop；　fell　inside；　rolling　on　his　face　into　the
middle　of　his　room；　and　he　felt　something　heavy　pass　over　him　and　escape
in　the　night。

He　was　no　longer　moving；　dazed　by　fright；　bewildered；　fearing　the　devil；
ghosts；　all　the　mysterious　beings　of　darkness；　and　he　waited　a　lon