Original Short Stories of Maupassant, Volume 2

G >> Guy de Maupassant >> Original Short Stories of Maupassant, Volume 2


And he spoke to me about the philosopher and told me about the almost
supernatural impression which this strange being made on all who came
near him.

He gave me an account of the interview of the old iconoclast with a
French politician, a doctrinaire Republican, who wanted to get a glimpse
of this man, and found him in a noisy tavern, seated in the midst of his
disciples, dry, wrinkled, laughing with an unforgettable laugh, attacking
and tearing to pieces ideas and beliefs with a single word, as a dog
tears with one bite of his teeth the tissues with which he plays.

He repeated for me the comment of this Frenchman as he went away,
astonished and terrified: "I thought I had spent an hour with the devil."

Then he added:

"He had, indeed, monsieur, a frightful smile, which terrified us even
after his death. I can tell you an anecdote about it that is not
generally known, if it would interest you."

And he began, in a languid voice, interrupted by frequent fits of
coughing.

"Schopenhauer had just died, and it was arranged that we should watch, in
turn, two by two, till morning.

"He was lying in a large apartment, very simple, vast and gloomy. Two wax
candles were burning on the stand by the bedside.

"It was midnight when I went on watch, together with one of our comrades.
The two friends whom we replaced had left the apartment, and we came and
sat down at the foot of the bed.

"The face was not changed. It was laughing. That pucker which we knew so
well lingered still around the corners of the lips, and it seemed to us
that he was about to open his eyes, to move and to speak. His thought, or
rather his thoughts, enveloped us. We felt ourselves more than ever in
the atmosphere of his genius, absorbed, possessed by him. His domination
seemed to be even more sovereign now that he was dead. A feeling of
mystery was blended with the power of this incomparable spirit.

"The bodies of these men disappear, but they themselves remain; and in
the night which follows the cessation of their heart's pulsation I assure
you, monsieur, they are terrifying.

"And in hushed tones we talked about him, recalling to mind certain
sayings, certain formulas of his, those startling maxims which are like
jets of flame flung, in a few words, into the darkness of the Unknown
Life.

"'It seems to me that he is going to speak,' said my comrade. And we
stared with uneasiness bordering on fear at the motionless face, with its
eternal laugh. Gradually, we began to feel ill at ease, oppressed, on the
point of fainting. I faltered:

"'I don't know what is the matter with me, but, I assure you I am not
well.'

"And at that moment we noticed that there was an unpleasant odor from the
corpse.

"Then, my comrade suggested that we should go into the adjoining room,
and leave the door open; and I assented to his proposal.

"I took one of the wax candles which burned on the stand, and I left the
second behind. Then we went and sat down at the other end of the
adjoining apartment, in such a position that we could see the bed and the
corpse, clearly revealed by the light.

"But he still held possession of us. One would have said that his
immaterial essence, liberated, free, all-powerful and dominating, was
flitting around us. And sometimes, too, the dreadful odor of the
decomposed body came toward us and penetrated us, sickening and
indefinable.

"Suddenly a shiver passed through our bones: a sound, a slight sound,
came from the death-chamber. Immediately we fixed our glances on him, and
we saw, yes, monsieur, we saw distinctly, both of us, something white
pass across the bed, fall on the carpet, and vanish under an armchair.

"We were on our feet before we had time to think of anything, distracted
by stupefying terror, ready to run away. Then we stared at each other. We
were horribly pale. Our hearts throbbed fiercely enough to have raised
the clothing on our chests. I was the first to speak:

"'Did you see?'

"'Yes, I saw.'

"'Can it be that he is not dead?'

"'Why, when the body is putrefying?'

"'What are we to do?'

"My companion said in a hesitating tone:

"'We must go and look.'

"I took our wax candle and entered first, glancing into all the dark
corners in the large apartment. Nothing was moving now, and I approached
the bed. But I stood transfixed with stupor and fright:

"Schopenhauer was no longer laughing! He was grinning in a horrible
fashion, with his lips pressed together and deep hollows in his cheeks. I
stammered out:

"'He is not dead!'

"But the terrible odor ascended to my nose and stifled me. And I no
longer moved, but kept staring fixedly at him, terrified as if in the
presence of an apparition.

"Then my companion, having seized the other wax candle, bent forward.
Next, he touched my arm without uttering a word. I followed his glance,
and saw on the ground, under the armchair by the side of the bed,
standing out white on the dark carpet, and open as if to bite,
Schopenhauer's set of artificial teeth.

"The work of decomposition, loosening the jaws, had made it jump out of
the mouth.

"I was really frightened that day, monsieur."

And as the sun was sinking toward the glittering sea, the consumptive
German rose from his seat, gave me a parting bow, and retired into the
hotel.