The snow had been falling for another hour; The trees are covered with snow. The fir tree was almost bent over by the gray-white coat, and looked like white pyramids or huge sugar cones; Through the gray drapery of fine snowflakes, only the smaller shrubs could be faintly seen, which had become very faint in the darkness. The snow was falling so hard that I could only see ten paces away. Thanks to the lantern, it cast a dazzling light in front of us. When I started to walk down the staircase hewn into the walls, I was honestly scared. It's as if someone is coming up behind me and they're going to grab me by the shoulders and drag me away. I really want to go back; But when I got home, I had to walk through the whole garden, and I didn't dare to.
I heard the door that led to the plain open; Then, the uncle scolded again: "Damn, he's gone again!" This dog bastard, as long as I see his shadow, I will shoot him. ”
The wilderness looks eerie, no, it feels eerie, because we can't see it; All you can see is the endless curtain of snow, overhead, underfoot, front, left, right, overwhelming.
Then the uncle said, "Listen, the dog barks again; I'm going to let it learn how to shoot. It's still so crisp. ”
But my father, who had a good heart, said, "It is better to look for it, for the poor beast is very hungry." It's crying out for help, this unfortunate thing; It is shouting to us like a person in distress. Let's go. ”
We moved on, through the curtain of snow, through the continuous, thick snow, through the flying flotsam that filled the night and the night sky. The flotsam danced, fluttered, fell, fell on our skin, melted, and froze our skin; Like a fire, every time a small white snowflake touches the skin, the skin will feel a rapid, severe pain.
We sank to our knees in this soft, cold snow; You have to lift your legs high to take a step. The further we walked, the clearer and louder the dog's bark became. The uncle suddenly shouted, "There it is! "We stopped and watched as if we had encountered an enemy at night.
As for me, I didn't see anything; So I ran a few steps and rushed to the others, and then I saw it. The dog looked scary and peculiar. It was a big black dog, a shepherd dog with long fur and a head like a wolf, standing at the end of the long strip of light that the lantern had cast on the snow. It didn't walk away, and suddenly fell silent, staring at us.
My uncle said, "How strange it is, it doesn't rush up or retreat." I really want to give it a shot. ”
My father said firmly, "No, catch it." ”
That's when my brother Jacques added, "And it's not just this dog. There's another thing next to it. ”
There was something behind it, a gray-colored thing, and I couldn't tell what it was. We began to walk cautiously again.
Seeing us approaching, the dog sat on the ground. It didn't look vicious, but rather glad that it had finally attracted people.
My father walked straight up to it and stroked it. The dog licked his hand; That's when we realized that it was tethered to the wheels of a small car, a toy-like car tightly wrapped in three or four layers of blankets. We carefully uncovered the blanket, and Baptiste moved the lantern through the small door of the car, which looked like a small shack on wheels, and saw a sleeping baby inside.
We were so amazed that we couldn't even speak. My father first regained his composure. He was very kind-hearted, but also a little impulsive, and immediately put his hand on the roof of the car and said, "Poor outcast, you will be a member of our family from now on." He then instructed my brother Jacques to walk ahead of the unexpected discovery.
The father said to himself, "It must be an illegitimate child; The poor mother thought of the Holy Child, so she chose to call our door on the night of the Pilgrimage of the Three Kings. ”
He paused again, and through the night, shouted to the sky on all sides: "We have taken him!" Then he put his hand on my uncle's shoulder and whispered, "François, what if you shot the dog?" ……”
The uncle did not answer, but he drew a large cross in the darkness; Don't look at him for big talk, he's a devout believer.
The leash on which the dog was tied was untied, and it followed us.
Yes! It's the scene when we go home that is interesting. We first took great difficulty to carry the cart up the staircase inside the city walls; But we succeeded and pushed it all the way to the foyer.
My mother's expression was amused, she was both happy and alarmed. And my four cousins, the youngest of whom was six years old at the time, were like four chicks in a clump around a chicken coop. Finally, we took the sleeping child out of the trolley. It was a girl about six weeks old. Ten thousand francs of gold were also found in her swaddling clothes, yes, ten thousand francs! Dad saved the money to give her a dowry. This shows that she is not a child of a poor family...... It may have been born to a nobleman and a woman from a small burgher class in the city...... Otherwise, ...... In short, we have made all kinds of speculations, but we will never know anything...... Nothing...... No one even recognized the dog. The dog is not local. In any case, however, it can be asserted that the man or woman who rang the bell three times at my door knew my parents very well and chose them.
This is how Miss Pearl came to Chantal's house when she was only six weeks old.
But we called her Miss Pearl, and that was later. She was originally given the name "Marie-Simone Claire", and "Claire" counted as her last name.
I dare say it was a lot of fun when we brought this baby into the dining room. She had woken up, looking at the people and the lights around her with those blind, misty blue eyes.
Everyone sat down again and shared the cakes. I became king, and I chose Miss Pearl to be my queen as you just did. On that day, she certainly didn't expect that someone would give her this honor.
The child was taken in and raised in our house. She grew up; How many years have passed in a flash. She is kind, gentle, and easy-going. Everyone loved her; If it weren't for my mother's obstruction, we would have gotten used to her as she was.
Mother is a person with a strong sense of family and hierarchy. She agrees to treat little Claire as well as her own sons, but she insists that we must draw a clear distance and make our identities clear.
Therefore, as soon as the child was sensible, she let her know about her origins, and instilled in the little girl's mind in a very tactful, even gentle way, the idea that to the people of the Chantal family, she was an adopted daughter, a hostess, and in any case an outsider.
Claire has a rare intelligence and amazing instincts, and she understands her situation; And she knew to accept and strictly abide by the position left to her, always so measured, so willing, so understanding, that she often moved my father to tears.
This gentle, lovely child, full of enthusiasm and even a little fearful devotion to it, even my mother was deeply moved and began to call her "my daughter". Sometimes, when she did something kind and considerate, my mother would push her glasses to her forehead—a sign of her emotion—and say, "What a pearl, this child, a real pearl!" —the name was left to little Claire. Claire became Miss Pearl, as we've always called her.
4
Mr. Chantal was silent. He sits on a pool table, his legs shaking, his left hand playing with a billiard ball, and his right hand rubbing a rag for wiping the score written on the slate, which is what we call a "powder eraser". His face flushed slightly, and his voice was low. He was now speaking to himself, as if he had stepped into the realm of memories, moving slowly forward in the reappearance of the old traces and the past, as if we had revisited the garden of our hometown, where we grew up, where every tree, every road, every kind of flower and tree: the pointed medlar-leaf holly, the fragrant laurel, the bright red and fat fruit, the yew that broke when pinched, every step evoked a small thing in our past life, a small thing that was insignificant and interesting, However, it is these little things that constitute the essence of our life, the content of life.
I, still facing him, with my back against the wall, my hands on the useless pool cue.
He was silent for a moment, and then said, "Oh my God, how beautiful she was when she was eighteen...... How elegant...... How perfect...... Yes! Pretty...... Pretty...... Pretty...... And kind...... Honest...... Charming girl! …… Her eyes were blue...... Clear...... Bright...... I've never seen eyes like this before...... Never! ”
He was silent again. I asked, "Why isn't she married?" ”
He replied, not to me, but to the word "married" in a flash:
"Why! Why! She didn't want to...... Unwilling. Although she had a family of 30,000 francs and several people had proposed to her...... But she just didn't want to! She seemed to be in a bad mood during that time. That's when I married my current wife, my cousin Charlotte Jr., and I got engaged to her ten years ago. ”
I looked at Mr. Chantal, as if deep into his soul, and suddenly saw a scene in the midst of countless ordinary and cruel tragedies that took place in the hearts of honest, upright, and blameless. This tragedy is often buried in the heart, never confided in, never explored, and unaware of anyone, not even the victims of the tragedy who have endured the pain in silence.
Suddenly driven by curiosity, I presumptuously asked:
"You should have married her, didn't you, Mr. Chantal?"
He shuddered, looked at me, and said:
"Me? Who to marry? ”
"Miss Pearl."
"Why?"
"Because you love her more than your cousin."
His eyes were wide open, and he looked at me with a look of surprise and panic, and then he said:
"I ...... I love her? …… How to love? Who told you that? ……”
"Needless to say, you can see it at a glance...... It was for her that you took so long to marry your cousin and made her wait for six years. ”
He put down the billiard ball he was holding in his left hand, grabbed the piece of powder with both hands, covered his face, and whimpered. The way he cried was pitiful and ridiculous, like squeezing a sponge, with snot, tears, and saliva flowing together. He coughed, spitted, blew his nose with powder, rubbed his eyes, sneezed, and then the cracks on his face began to flow back with a sound reminiscent of gargling in his throat.
As for me, I panicked and felt guilty, and I really wanted to slip away, because I didn't know what to say, what to do, and what to do.
Suddenly, Mrs. Chantal's voice came from the staircase: "You're running out of cigarettes, aren't you?" ”
I opened the door and shouted, "Yes, ma'am, let's come down now." ”
Then I hurried to her husband's side, took him by the elbows, and said, "Monsieur Chantal, my dear Chantal, listen to me; Your wife is telling you, calm down, calm down, it's time to go downstairs, calm down. ”
He stammered, "Good...... Good...... I'll just come...... Poor girl! …… I'll just come...... Please tell her I'm coming. ”
He began to carefully wipe his face with the rag that had been wiping the various marks on the slate for two or three years; Later, his face was revealed, but he became white and red, and his forehead, nose, cheeks, and chin were stained with white powder; His eyes were still swollen and full of tears.
I grabbed his hand and pulled him to his bedroom, whispering to him, "I'm sorry for you, very sorry for you, Mr. Chantal, for making you sad...... But...... I don't know...... You...... You'll understand......"
He clasped my hand and said, "Yes...... Yes...... Everyone has a hard time......"
With that, he dipped his face in the basin. When his face came out of the water, I felt that I could not see anyone; But I came up with a little plan. When he saw himself in the mirror, and was feeling a little worried, I said to him, "As long as you say that you have fallen a piece of sand in your eye, you can cry as much as you like in front of everyone." ”
He literally rubbed his eyes with a handkerchief and walked downstairs. Everyone is in a hurry; Everyone had to come looking for the sand that they couldn't find at all, and they gave a few similar cases that they had to go to the doctor later.
I, as for me, had walked up to Miss Pearl and looked at her. I am tormented by a strong curiosity that is turning into a pain. Indeed, she must have been beautiful earlier; Her gentle eyes, so big, so serene, so cheerful, as if they had never been closed like ordinary people. She was dressed a little strangely, like an authentic old virgin, but that only reduced her appearance and didn't make her look clumsy.
Everything I had just seen in Mr. Chantal's mind seemed to be clear in her; This woman's humble, simple, and loyal life seemed to unfold before my eyes from beginning to end. But my lips were still tickling, and I couldn't help but ask her, to find out if she had loved him too; Did she, too, suffer long, intense pain in silence like him, which no one could see, no one knew, and no one guessed; But at night, when you are alone in a dark bedroom, you can't help but feel sad. I looked at her as if I saw her heart beating beneath her turtleneck; I asked if this innocent and gentle face sighed every night in the tear-soaked pillow, and if this body shivered in the hot and sleepless bed.
Just as a child would rather smash a toy to see what was going on inside, I said to her in a low voice: "If you saw how sad Mr. Chantal was crying, you would have taken pity on him." ”
She couldn't help but shudder: "What, he cried?" ”
"Ahh No, he cried. ”
"Why are you crying?"
She seemed excited. I replied:
"Because of you."
"Because of me?"
"yes. And he said unto me, He loved thee in the past; What a price did he pay for not marrying you but his current wife......"
I saw that her pale face was elongated a little; The eyes that were always open, the quiet eyes, closed all at once, so fast that they seemed to never open again. Then she slid off her chair and gently and slowly collapsed to the floor like a slippery shawl.
I shouted, "Come on!" Come on! Miss Pearl is not good. ”
Mrs. Chantal and her two daughters hurried over; While they were busy looking for water, towels, and vinegar, I took my hat and slipped away.
I strode away, but my heart was violently shaken, regret and guilt. But sometimes I'm secretly happy because I think I've done something commendable and necessary.
I asked myself, "Am I doing something wrong?" Or is it the right thing? "Before, they hid it all in their hearts, like lead bullet buried in a closed wound. Aren't they more relaxed now? It may be too late to start the old love that tormented them again, but it's always too late for them to reminisce about that time.
Perhaps one evening in the coming spring, a ray of moonlight shining through the branches of the trees on the grass at their feet would make them touch the scene, snuggle up to each other, hold each other's hands, and recall together the cruel pain hidden in their hearts; Perhaps this brief intimacy will stir up in them a tremor that has never been comprehended, and infuse these people who have awakened for a moment with a fleeting, sacred intoxication and a sense of madness; And this intoxication, this madness, in a trembling thrill, may give lovers more happiness than anyone else can gain in a lifetime!
* * *
[1] This article was first published in the Literary Supplement to Le Figaro on January 16, 1886; In the same year, it was included in the short story collection "Little Locke".
[2] Three Kings Feast: Also known as Epiphany, it is a Catholic holiday that is celebrated on January 6 every year. There is a custom of eating the three kings to the court cake on this festival, and a broad bean or small porcelain figure is placed in the cake, and the one who eats it is the king, and he chooses the queen.
[3] Grasse: A small city in the south of France near the Mediterranean.
[4] 季风桥(Pont-à-Moussoon):法国东北部莫特-摩泽尔省的一个小城。
[5] The Comédie and the Théâtre de France are both famous theaters in Paris, both located on the right bank of the Seine.
[6] August 15 is the Catholic feast of the Assumption.
[7] This refers to the Boulevard Linyin between Place de la Bastille and Place de la Madeleine in Paris.
[8] Tokyo Incident: This Tokyo refers to northern Vietnam. In 1883, France forced Vietnam to sign the Treaty of Hue, turning Vietnam into its "protectorate". Later, he launched an attack on the Chinese army and provoked a Sino-French war. In 1885, the Chinese army defeated the French army, causing political turmoil in France and the collapse of the Ferry cabinet. Maupassant wrote in a commentary published in the newspaper Gilles Blas on April 7, 1885: "It [the French people] is ashamed of its defeat at the hands of Prussia, but it is glorious at the defeat of China." ”
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