martin guerre-第2章

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one　would　not　know　us　apart！　　。　　。　　。　　I　might　be　surveying　myself　in

a　mirror。　　I　did　well　to　look　for　him　in　the　rear　of　the　Spanish

army；　and；　thanks　to　the　fellow　who　rolled　him　over　so　conveniently

with　that　arquebus…shot；　I　was　able　to　escape　the　dangers　of　the

melee　by　carrying　him　out　of　it。〃



〃But　that's　not　all；〃　he　thought；　still　carefully　studying　the

tortured　face　of　the　unhappy　sufferer；　〃it　is　not　enough　to　have　got

out　of　that。　　I　have　absolutely　nothing　in　the　world；　no　home；　no

resources。　　Beggar　by　birth；　adventurer　by　fortune；　I　have　enlisted；

and　have　consumed　my　pay；　I　hoped　for　plunder；　and　here　we　are　in

full　flight！　　What　am　I　to　do？　　Go　and　drown　myself？　　No；　certainly

a　cannon…ball　would　be　as　good　as　that。　　But　can't　I　profit　by　this

chance；　and　obtain　a　decent　position　by　turning　to　my　own　advantage

this　curious　resemblance；　and　making　some　use　of　this　man　whom　Fate

has　thrown　in　my　way；　and　who　has　but　a　short　time　to　live？〃



Arguing　thus；　he　bent　over　the　prostrate　man　with　a　cynical　laugh：

one　might　have　thought　he　was　Satan　watching　the　departure　of　a　soul

too　utterly　lost　to　escape　him。



〃Alas！　alas！〃　cried　the　sufferer；　〃may　God　have　mercy　on　me！　　I　feel

my　end　is　near。〃



〃Bah！　comrade；　drive　away　these　dismal　thoughts。　　Your　leg　pains　you

well　they　will　cut　it　off！　　Think　only　of　the　other　one；　and　trust

in　Providence！〃



〃Water；　a　drop　of　water；　for　Heaven's　sake！〃　The　sufferer　was　in　a

high　fever。　　The　would…be　nurse　looked　round　and　saw　a　jug　of　water；

towards　which　the　dying　man　extended　a　trembling　hand。　　A　truly

infernal　idea　entered　his　mind。　　He　poured　some　water　into　a　gourd

which　hung　from　his　belt；　held　it　to　the　lips　of　the　wounded　man；　and

then　withdrew　it。



〃Oh！　　I　thirst…that　water！　　。　　。　　。　　For　pity's　sake；　give　me　some！〃



〃Yes；　but　on　one　condition　you　must　tell　me　your　whole　history。〃



〃Yes　。　　。　　。　　but　give　me　water！〃



His　tormentor　allowed　him　to　swallow　a　mouthful；　then　overwhelmed　him

with　questions　as　to　his　family；　his　friends　and　fortune；　and

compelled　him　to　answer　by　keeping　before　his　eyes　the　water　which

alone　could　relieve　the　fever　which　devoured　him。　　After　this　often

interrupted　interrogation；　the　sufferer　sank　back　exhausted；　and

almost　insensible。　　But；　not　yet　satisfied；　his　companion　conceived

the　idea　of　reviving　him　with　a　few　drops　of　brandy；　which　quickly

brought　back　the　fever；　and　excited　his　brain　sufficiently　to　enable

him　to　answer　fresh　questions。　　The　doses　of　spirit　were　doubled

several　times；　at　the　risk　of　ending　the　unhappy　man's　days　then　and

there：　Almost　delirious；　his　head　feeling　as　if　on　fire；　his

sufferings　gave　way　to　a　feverish　excitement；　which　took　him　back　to

other　places　and　other　times：　he　began　to　recall　the　days　of　his

youth　and　the　country　where　he　lived。　　But　his　tongue　was　still

fettered　by　a　kind　of　reserve：　his　secret　thoughts；　the　private

details　of　his　past　life　were　not　yet　told；　and　it　seemed　as　though

he　might　die　at　any　moment。　　Time　was　passing；　night　already　coming

on；　and　it　occurred　to　the　merciless　questioner　to　profit　by　the

gathering　darkness。　　By　a　few　solemn　words　he　aroused　the　religious

feelings　of　the　sufferer；　terrified　him　by　speaking　of　the

punishments　of　another　life　and　the　flames　of　hell；　until　to　the

delirious　fancy　of　the　sick　man　he　took　the　form　of　a　judge　who　could

either　deliver　him　to　eternal　damnation　or　open　the　gates　of　heaven

to　him。　　At　length；　overwhelmed　by　a　voice　which　resounded　in　his　ear

like　that　of　a　minister　of　God；　the　dying　man　laid　bare　his　inmost

soul　before　his　tormentor；　and　made　his　last　confession　to　him。



Yet　a　few　moments；　and　the　executionerhe　deserves　no　other　name

hangs　over　his　victim；　opens　his　tunic；　seizes　some　papers　and　a　few

coins；　half　draws　his　dagger；　but　thinks　better　of　it；　then；

contemptuously　spurning　the　victim；　as　the　other　surgeon　had　done



〃I　might　kill　you；〃　he　says；　〃but　it　would　be　a　useless　murder；　it

would　only　be　hastening　your　last　Sigh　by　an　hour　or　two；　and

advancing　my　claims　to　your　inheritance　by　the　same　space　of　time。〃



And　he　adds　mockingly：



〃Farewell；　my　brother！〃



The　wounded　soldier　utters　a　feeble　groan；　the　adventurer　leaves　the

room。





Four　months　later；　a　woman　sat　at　the　door　of　a　house　at　one　end　；of

the　village　of　Artigues；　near　Rieux；　and　played　with　a　child　about

nine　or　ten　years　of　age。　　Still　young；　she　had　the　brown　complexion

of　Southern　women；　and　her　beautiful　black　hair　fell　in　curls　about

her　face。　　Her　flashing　eyes　occasionally　betrayed　hidden　passions；

concealed；　however；　beneath　an　apparent　indifference　and　lassitude；

and　her　wasted　form　seemed　to　acknowledge　the　existence　of　some

secret　grief。　　An　observer　would　have　divined　a　shattered　life；　a

withered　happiness；　a　soul　grievously　wounded。



Her　dress　was　that　of　a　wealthy　peasant；　and　she　wore　one　of　the　long

gowns　with　hanging　sleeves　which　were　in　fashion　in　the　sixteenth

century。　　The　house　in　front　of　which　she　sat　belonged　to　her；　so

also　the　immense　field　which　adjoined　the　garden。　　Her　attention　was

divided　between　the　play　of　her　son　and　the　orders　she　was　giving　to

an　old　servant；　when　an　exclamation　from　the　child　startled　her。



〃Mother！〃　he　cried；　〃mother；　there　he　is！〃



She　looked　where　the　child　pointed；　and　saw　a　young　boy　turning　the

corner　of　the　street。



〃Yes；〃　continued　the　child；　〃that　is　the　lad　who；　when　I　was　playing

with　the　other　boys　yesterday；　called　me　all　sorts　of　bad　names。〃



〃What　sort　of　names；　my　child？〃



〃There　was　one　I　did　not　understand；　but　it　must　have　been　a　very　bad

one；　for　the　other　boys　all　pointed　at　me；　and　left　me　alone。　　He

called　meand　he　said　it　was　only　what　his　mother　had　told　himhe

called　me　a　wicked　bastard！〃



His　mother's　face　became　purple　with　indignation。　　〃What！〃　she　cried；

〃they　dared！　　。　　。　　。　　What　an　insult！〃



〃What　does　this　bad　word　mean；　mother？〃　asked　the　child；　half

frightened　by　her　anger。　　〃Is　that　what　they　call　poor　children　who

have　no　father？〃



His　mother　folded　him　in　her　arms。　　〃Oh！〃　she　continued；　〃it　is　an

infamous　slander！　　These　people　never　saw　your　father；　they　have　only

been　here　six　years；　and　this　is　the　eighth　since　he　went　away；　but

this　is　abominable！　　We　were　married　in　that　church；　we　came　at　once

to　live　in　this　house；　which　was　my　marriage　portion；　and　my　poor

Martin　has　relations　and　friends　here　who　will　not　allow　his　wife　to

be　insulted〃



〃Say　rather；　his　widow；〃　interrupted　a　solemn　voice。



〃Ah！　uncle！〃　exclaimed　the　woman；　turning　towards　an　old　man　who　had

just　emerged　from　the　house。



〃Yes；　Bertrande；〃　continued　the　new…comer；　〃you　must　get　reconciled

to　the　idea　that　my　nephew　has　ceased　to　exist。　　I　am　sure　he　was　not

such　a　fool　as　to　have　remained　all　this　time　without　letting　us　hear

from　him。　　He　was　not　the　fellow　to　go　off　at　a　tangent；　on　account

of　a　domestic　quarrel　which　you　have　never　vouchsafed　to　explain　to

me；　and　to　retain　his　anger　during　all　these　eight　years！　　Where　did

he　go？　　What　did　he　do？　　We　none　of　us　know；　neither　you　nor　I；　nor

anybody　else。　　He　is　assuredly　dead；　and　lies　in　some　graveyard　far

enough　from　here。　　May　God　have　mercy　on　his　soul！〃



Bertrande；　weeping；　made　the　sign　of　the　cross；　and　bowed　her　head

upon　her　hands。



〃Good…bye；　Sanxi；〃　said　the　uncle；　tapping　the　child's；'　cheek。

Sanxi　turned　sulkily　away。



There　was　certainly　nothing　specially　attractive　about　the　uncle：　he

belonged　to　a　type　which　children　instinctively　dislike；　false；

crafty；　with　squinting　eyes　which　continually　appeared　to　contradict

his　honeyed　tongue。



〃Bertrande；〃　he　said；　〃your　boy　is　like　his　father　before　him；　and

only　answers　my　kindness　with　rudeness。〃



〃Forgive　him；〃　answered　the　mother；　〃he　is　very　young；　and　does　not

understand　the　respect　due　to　his　father's　uncl