Maupassant Original Short Stories (180), Complete

G >> Guy de Maupassant >> Maupassant Original Short Stories (180), Complete


But there was something in the air, a something strange and subtle, an
intolerable foreign atmosphere like a penetrating odor--the odor of
invasion. It permeated dwellings and places of public resort, changed the
taste of food, made one imagine one's self in far-distant lands, amid
dangerous, barbaric tribes.

The conquerors exacted money, much money. The inhabitants paid what was
asked; they were rich. But, the wealthier a Norman tradesman becomes, the
more he suffers at having to part with anything that belongs to him, at
having to see any portion of his substance pass into the hands of
another.

Nevertheless, within six or seven miles of the town, along the course of
the river as it flows onward to Croisset, Dieppedalle and Biessart,
boat-men and fishermen often hauled to the surface of the water the body
of a German, bloated in his uniform, killed by a blow from knife or club,
his head crushed by a stone, or perchance pushed from some bridge into
the stream below. The mud of the river-bed swallowed up these obscure
acts of vengeance--savage, yet legitimate; these unrecorded deeds of
bravery; these silent attacks fraught with greater danger than battles
fought in broad day, and surrounded, moreover, with no halo of romance.
For hatred of the foreigner ever arms a few intrepid souls, ready to die
for an idea.

At last, as the invaders, though subjecting the town to the strictest
discipline, had not committed any of the deeds of horror with which they
had been credited while on their triumphal march, the people grew bolder,
and the necessities of business again animated the breasts of the local
merchants. Some of these had important commercial interests at Havre
--occupied at present by the French army--and wished to attempt
to reach that port by overland route to Dieppe, taking the boat from
there.

Through the influence of the German officers whose acquaintance they had
made, they obtained a permit to leave town from the general in command.

A large four-horse coach having, therefore, been engaged for the journey,
and ten passengers having given in their names to the proprietor, they
decided to start on a certain Tuesday morning before daybreak, to avoid
attracting a crowd.

The ground had been frozen hard for some time-past, and about three
o'clock on Monday afternoon--large black clouds from the north shed
their burden of snow uninterruptedly all through that evening and night.

At half-past four in the morning the travellers met in the courtyard of
the Hotel de Normandie, where they were to take their seats in the coach.

They were still half asleep, and shivering with cold under their wraps.
They could see one another but indistinctly in the darkness, and the
mountain of heavy winter wraps in which each was swathed made them look
like a gathering of obese priests in their long cassocks. But two men
recognized each other, a third accosted them, and the three began to
talk. "I am bringing my wife," said one. "So am I." "And I, too." The
first speaker added: "We shall not return to Rouen, and if the Prussians
approach Havre we will cross to England." All three, it turned out, had
made the same plans, being of similar disposition and temperament.

Still the horses were not harnessed. A small lantern carried by a
stable-boy emerged now and then from one dark doorway to disappear
immediately in another. The stamping of horses' hoofs, deadened by the
dung and straw of the stable, was heard from time to time, and from
inside the building issued a man's voice, talking to the animals and
swearing at them. A faint tinkle of bells showed that the harness was
being got ready; this tinkle soon developed into a continuous jingling,
louder or softer according to the movements of the horse, sometimes
stopping altogether, then breaking out in a sudden peal accompanied by a
pawing of the ground by an iron-shod hoof.

The door suddenly closed. All noise ceased.

The frozen townsmen were silent; they remained motionless, stiff with
cold.

A thick curtain of glistening white flakes fell ceaselessly to the
ground; it obliterated all outlines, enveloped all objects in an icy
mantle of foam; nothing was to be heard throughout the length and breadth
of the silent, winter-bound city save the vague, nameless rustle of
falling snow--a sensation rather than a sound--the gentle
mingling of light atoms which seemed to fill all space, to cover the
whole world.

The man reappeared with his lantern, leading by a rope a
melancholy-looking horse, evidently being led out against his
inclination. The hostler placed him beside the pole, fastened the traces,
and spent some time in walking round him to make sure that the harness
was all right; for he could use only one hand, the other being engaged in
holding the lantern. As he was about to fetch the second horse he noticed
the motionless group of travellers, already white with snow, and said to
them: "Why don't you get inside the coach? You'd be under shelter, at
least."

This did not seem to have occurred to them, and they at once took his
advice. The three men seated their wives at the far end of the coach,
then got in themselves; lastly the other vague, snow-shrouded forms
clambered to the remaining places without a word.

The floor was covered with straw, into which the feet sank. The ladies at
the far end, having brought with them little copper foot-warmers heated
by means of a kind of chemical fuel, proceeded to light these, and spent
some time in expatiating in low tones on their advantages, saying over
and over again things which they had all known for a long time.

At last, six horses instead of four having been harnessed to the
diligence, on account of the heavy roads, a voice outside asked: "Is
every one there?" To which a voice from the interior replied: "Yes," and
they set out.

The vehicle moved slowly, slowly, at a snail's pace; the wheels sank into
the snow; the entire body of the coach creaked and groaned; the horses
slipped, puffed, steamed, and the coachman's long whip cracked
incessantly, flying hither and thither, coiling up, then flinging out its
length like a slender serpent, as it lashed some rounded flank, which
instantly grew tense as it strained in further effort.

But the day grew apace. Those light flakes which one traveller, a native
of Rouen, had compared to a rain of cotton fell no longer. A murky light
filtered through dark, heavy clouds, which made the country more
dazzlingly white by contrast, a whiteness broken sometimes by a row of
tall trees spangled with hoarfrost, or by a cottage roof hooded in snow.

Within the coach the passengers eyed one another curiously in the dim
light of dawn.

Right at the back, in the best seats of all, Monsieur and Madame Loiseau,
wholesale wine merchants of the Rue Grand-Pont, slumbered opposite each
other. Formerly clerk to a merchant who had failed in business, Loiseau
had bought his master's interest, and made a fortune for himself. He sold
very bad wine at a very low price to the retail-dealers in the country,
and had the reputation, among his friends and acquaintances, of being a
shrewd rascal a true Norman, full of quips and wiles. So well established
was his character as a cheat that, in the mouths of the citizens of
Rouen, the very name of Loiseau became a byword for sharp practice.

Above and beyond this, Loiseau was noted for his practical jokes of every
description--his tricks, good or ill-natured; and no one could
mention his name without adding at once: "He's an extraordinary
man--Loiseau." He was undersized and potbellied, had a florid face
with grayish whiskers.

His wife-tall, strong, determined, with a loud voice and decided manner
--represented the spirit of order and arithmetic in the business
house which Loiseau enlivened by his jovial activity.

Beside them, dignified in bearing, belonging to a superior caste, sat
Monsieur Carre-Lamadon, a man of considerable importance, a king in the
cotton trade, proprietor of three spinning-mills, officer of the Legion
of Honor, and member of the General Council. During the whole time the
Empire was in the ascendancy he remained the chief of the well-disposed
Opposition, merely in order to command a higher value for his devotion
when he should rally to the cause which he meanwhile opposed with
"courteous weapons," to use his own expression.

Madame Carre-Lamadon, much younger than her husband, was the consolation
of all the officers of good family quartered at Rouen. Pretty, slender,
graceful, she sat opposite her husband, curled up in her furs, and gazing
mournfully at the sorry interior of the coach.

Her neighbors, the Comte and Comtesse Hubert de Breville, bore one of the
noblest and most ancient names in Normandy. The count, a nobleman
advanced in years and of aristocratic bearing, strove to enhance by every
artifice of the toilet, his natural resemblance to King Henry IV, who,
according to a legend of which the family were inordinately proud, had
been the favored lover of a De Breville lady, and father of her child
--the frail one's husband having, in recognition of this fact, been
made a count and governor of a province.

A colleague of Monsieur Carre-Lamadon in the General Council, Count
Hubert represented the Orleanist party in his department. The story of
his marriage with the daughter of a small shipowner at Nantes had always
remained more or less of a mystery. But as the countess had an air of
unmistakable breeding, entertained faultlessly, and was even supposed to
have been loved by a son of Louis-Philippe, the nobility vied with one
another in doing her honor, and her drawing-room remained the most select
in the whole countryside--the only one which retained the old spirit
of gallantry, and to which access was not easy.

The fortune of the Brevilles, all in real estate, amounted, it was said,
to five hundred thousand francs a year.

These six people occupied the farther end of the coach, and represented
Society--with an income--the strong, established society of
good people with religion and principle.

It happened by chance that all the women were seated on the same side;
and the countess had, moreover, as neighbors two nuns, who spent the time
in fingering their long rosaries and murmuring paternosters and aves. One
of them was old, and so deeply pitted with smallpox that she looked for
all the world as if she had received a charge of shot full in the face.
The other, of sickly appearance, had a pretty but wasted countenance, and
a narrow, consumptive chest, sapped by that devouring faith which is the
making of martyrs and visionaries.

A man and woman, sitting opposite the two nuns, attracted all eyes.

The man--a well-known character--was Cornudet, the democrat,
the terror of all respectable people. For the past twenty years his big
red beard had been on terms of intimate acquaintance with the tankards of
all the republican cafes. With the help of his comrades and brethren he
had dissipated a respectable fortune left him by his father, an
old-established confectioner, and he now impatiently awaited the
Republic, that he might at last be rewarded with the post he had earned
by his revolutionary orgies. On the fourth of September--possibly as
the result of a practical joke--he was led to believe that he had
been appointed prefect; but when he attempted to take up the duties of
the position the clerks in charge of the office refused to recognize his
authority, and he was compelled in consequence to retire. A good sort of
fellow in other respects, inoffensive and obliging, he had thrown himself
zealously into the work of making an organized defence of the town. He
had had pits dug in the level country, young forest trees felled, and
traps set on all the roads; then at the approach of the enemy, thoroughly
satisfied with his preparations, he had hastily returned to the town. He
thought he might now do more good at Havre, where new intrenchments would
soon be necessary.

The woman, who belonged to the courtesan class, was celebrated for an
embonpoint unusual for her age, which had earned for her the sobriquet of
"Boule de Suif" (Tallow Ball). Short and round, fat as a pig, with puffy
fingers constricted at the joints, looking like rows of short sausages;
with a shiny, tightly-stretched skin and an enormous bust filling out the
bodice of her dress, she was yet attractive and much sought after, owing
to her fresh and pleasing appearance. Her face was like a crimson apple,
a peony-bud just bursting into bloom; she had two magnificent dark eyes,
fringed with thick, heavy lashes, which cast a shadow into their depths;
her mouth was small, ripe, kissable, and was furnished with the tiniest
of white teeth.

As soon as she was recognized the respectable matrons of the party began
to whisper among themselves, and the words "hussy" and "public scandal"
were uttered so loudly that Boule de Suif raised her head. She forthwith
cast such a challenging, bold look at her neighbors that a sudden silence
fell on the company, and all lowered their eyes, with the exception of
Loiseau, who watched her with evident interest.

But conversation was soon resumed among the three ladies, whom the
presence of this girl had suddenly drawn together in the bonds of
friendship--one might almost say in those of intimacy. They decided
that they ought to combine, as it were, in their dignity as wives in face
of this shameless hussy; for legitimized love always despises its
easygoing brother.

The three men, also, brought together by a certain conservative instinct
awakened by the presence of Cornudet, spoke of money matters in a tone
expressive of contempt for the poor. Count Hubert related the losses he
had sustained at the hands of the Prussians, spoke of the cattle which
had been stolen from him, the crops which had been ruined, with the easy
manner of a nobleman who was also a tenfold millionaire, and whom such
reverses would scarcely inconvenience for a single year. Monsieur
Carre-Lamadon, a man of wide experience in the cotton industry, had taken
care to send six hundred thousand francs to England as provision against
the rainy day he was always anticipating. As for Loiseau, he had managed
to sell to the French commissariat department all the wines he had in
stock, so that the state now owed him a considerable sum, which he hoped
to receive at Havre.

And all three eyed one another in friendly, well-disposed fashion.
Although of varying social status, they were united in the brotherhood of
money--in that vast freemasonry made up of those who possess, who
can jingle gold wherever they choose to put their hands into their
breeches' pockets.

The coach went along so slowly that at ten o'clock in the morning it had
not covered twelve miles. Three times the men of the party got out and
climbed the hills on foot. The passengers were becoming uneasy, for they
had counted on lunching at Totes, and it seemed now as if they would
hardly arrive there before nightfall. Every one was eagerly looking out
for an inn by the roadside, when, suddenly, the coach foundered in a
snowdrift, and it took two hours to extricate it.

As appetites increased, their spirits fell; no inn, no wine shop could be
discovered, the approach of the Prussians and the transit of the starving
French troops having frightened away all business.

The men sought food in the farmhouses beside the road, but could not find
so much as a crust of bread; for the suspicious peasant invariably hid
his stores for fear of being pillaged by the soldiers, who, being
entirely without food, would take violent possession of everything they
found.

About one o'clock Loiseau announced that he positively had a big hollow
in his stomach. They had all been suffering in the same way for some
time, and the increasing gnawings of hunger had put an end to all
conversation.

Now and then some one yawned, another followed his example, and each in
turn, according to his character, breeding and social position, yawned
either quietly or noisily, placing his hand before the gaping void whence
issued breath condensed into vapor.

Several times Boule de Suif stooped, as if searching for something under
her petticoats. She would hesitate a moment, look at her neighbors, and
then quietly sit upright again. All faces were pale and drawn. Loiseau
declared he would give a thousand francs for a knuckle of ham. His wife
made an involuntary and quickly checked gesture of protest. It always
hurt her to hear of money being squandered, and she could not even
understand jokes on such a subject.

"As a matter of fact, I don't feel well," said the count. "Why did I not
think of bringing provisions?" Each one reproached himself in similar
fashion.

Cornudet, however, had a bottle of rum, which he offered to his
neighbors. They all coldly refused except Loiseau, who took a sip, and
returned the bottle with thanks, saying: "That's good stuff; it warms one
up, and cheats the appetite." The alcohol put him in good humor, and he
proposed they should do as the sailors did in the song: eat the fattest
of the passengers. This indirect allusion to Boule de Suif shocked the
respectable members of the party. No one replied; only Cornudet smiled.
The two good sisters had ceased to mumble their rosary, and, with hands
enfolded in their wide sleeves, sat motionless, their eyes steadfastly
cast down, doubtless offering up as a sacrifice to Heaven the suffering
it had sent them.

At last, at three o'clock, as they were in the midst of an apparently
limitless plain, with not a single village in sight, Boule de Suif
stooped quickly, and drew from underneath the seat a large basket covered
with a white napkin.

From this she extracted first of all a small earthenware plate and a
silver drinking cup, then an enormous dish containing two whole chickens
cut into joints and imbedded in jelly. The basket was seen to contain
other good things: pies, fruit, dainties of all sorts-provisions, in
fine, for a three days' journey, rendering their owner independent of
wayside inns. The necks of four bottles protruded from among the food.
She took a chicken wing, and began to eat it daintily, together with one
of those rolls called in Normandy "Regence."

All looks were directed toward her. An odor of food filled the air,
causing nostrils to dilate, mouths to water, and jaws to contract
painfully. The scorn of the ladies for this disreputable female grew
positively ferocious; they would have liked to kill her, or throw, her
and her drinking cup, her basket, and her provisions, out of the coach
into the snow of the road below.

But Loiseau's gaze was fixed greedily on the dish of chicken. He said:

"Well, well, this lady had more forethought than the rest of us. Some
people think of everything."

She looked up at him.

"Would you like some, sir? It is hard to go on fasting all day."

He bowed.

"Upon my soul, I can't refuse; I cannot hold out another minute. All is
fair in war time, is it not, madame?" And, casting a glance on those
around, he added:

"At times like this it is very pleasant to meet with obliging people."

He spread a newspaper over his knees to avoid soiling his trousers, and,
with a pocketknife he always carried, helped himself to a chicken leg
coated with jelly, which he thereupon proceeded to devour.

Then Boule le Suif, in low, humble tones, invited the nuns to partake of
her repast. They both accepted the offer unhesitatingly, and after a few
stammered words of thanks began to eat quickly, without raising their
eyes. Neither did Cornudet refuse his neighbor's offer, and, in
combination with the nuns, a sort of table was formed by opening out the
newspaper over the four pairs of knees.

Mouths kept opening and shutting, ferociously masticating and devouring
the food. Loiseau, in his corner, was hard at work, and in low tones
urged his wife to follow his example. She held out for a long time, but
overstrained Nature gave way at last. Her husband, assuming his politest
manner, asked their "charming companion" if he might be allowed to offer
Madame Loiseau a small helping.

"Why, certainly, sir," she replied, with an amiable smile, holding out
the dish.

When the first bottle of claret was opened some embarrassment was caused
by the fact that there was only one drinking cup, but this was passed
from one to another, after being wiped. Cornudet alone, doubtless in a
spirit of gallantry, raised to his own lips that part of the rim which
was still moist from those of his fair neighbor.

Then, surrounded by people who were eating, and well-nigh suffocated by
the odor of food, the Comte and Comtesse de Breville and Monsieur and
Madame Carre-Lamadon endured that hateful form of torture which has
perpetuated the name of Tantalus. All at once the manufacturer's young
wife heaved a sigh which made every one turn and look at her; she was
white as the snow without; her eyes closed, her head fell forward; she
had fainted. Her husband, beside himself, implored the help of his
neighbors. No one seemed to know what to do until the elder of the two
nuns, raising the patient's head, placed Boule de Suif's drinking cup to
her lips, and made her swallow a few drops of wine. The pretty invalid
moved, opened her eyes, smiled, and declared in a feeble voice that she
was all right again. But, to prevent a recurrence of the catastrophe, the
nun made her drink a cupful of claret, adding: "It's just hunger
--that's what is wrong with you."

Then Boule de Suif, blushing and embarrassed, stammered, looking at the
four passengers who were still fasting:

"'Mon Dieu', if I might offer these ladies and gentlemen----"

She stopped short, fearing a snub. But Loiseau continued:

"Hang it all, in such a case as this we are all brothers and sisters and
ought to assist each other. Come, come, ladies, don't stand on ceremony,
for goodness' sake! Do we even know whether we shall find a house in
which to pass the night? At our present rate of going we sha'n't be at
Totes till midday to-morrow."

They hesitated, no one daring to be the first to accept. But the count
settled the question. He turned toward the abashed girl, and in his most
distinguished manner said:

"We accept gratefully, madame."

As usual, it was only the first step that cost. This Rubicon once
crossed, they set to work with a will. The basket was emptied. It still
contained a pate de foie gras, a lark pie, a piece of smoked tongue,
Crassane pears, Pont-Leveque gingerbread, fancy cakes, and a cup full of
pickled gherkins and onions--Boule de Suif, like all women, being
very fond of indigestible things.

They could not eat this girl's provisions without speaking to her. So
they began to talk, stiffly at first; then, as she seemed by no means
forward, with greater freedom. Mesdames de Breville and Carre-Lamadon,
who were accomplished women of the world, were gracious and tactful. The
countess especially displayed that amiable condescension characteristic
of great ladies whom no contact with baser mortals can sully, and was
absolutely charming. But the sturdy Madame Loiseau, who had the soul of a
gendarme, continued morose, speaking little and eating much.

Conversation naturally turned on the war. Terrible stories were told
about the Prussians, deeds of bravery were recounted of the French; and
all these people who were fleeing themselves were ready to pay homage to
the courage of their compatriots. Personal experiences soon followed, and
Bottle le Suif related with genuine emotion, and with that warmth of
language not uncommon in women of her class and temperament, how it came
about that she had left Rouen.

"I thought at first that I should be able to stay," she said. "My house
was well stocked with provisions, and it seemed better to put up with
feeding a few soldiers than to banish myself goodness knows where. But
when I saw these Prussians it was too much for me! My blood boiled with
rage; I wept the whole day for very shame. Oh, if only I had been a man!
I looked at them from my window--the fat swine, with their pointed
helmets!--and my maid held my hands to keep me from throwing my
furniture down on them. Then some of them were quartered on me; I flew at
the throat of the first one who entered. They are just as easy to
strangle as other men! And I'd have been the death of that one if I
hadn't been dragged away from him by my hair. I had to hide after that.
And as soon as I could get an opportunity I left the place, and here I
am."

She was warmly congratulated. She rose in the estimation of her
companions, who had not been so brave; and Cornudet listened to her with
the approving and benevolent smile of an apostle, the smile a priest
might wear in listening to a devotee praising God; for long-bearded
democrats of his type have a monopoly of patriotism, just as priests have
a monopoly of religion. He held forth in turn, with dogmatic
self-assurance, in the style of the proclamations daily pasted on the
walls of the town, winding up with a specimen of stump oratory in which
he reviled "that besotted fool of a Louis-Napoleon."