CHAPTER V.
MISANTHROPY PLAYS ITS PRANKS.
A strange and alarming grinding of teeth reached him through thedarkness.
It was enough to drive one back: he advanced. To those to whom silencehas become dreadful a howl is comforting.
That fierce growl reassured him; that threat was a promise. There wasthere a being alive and awake, though it might be a wild beast. Headvanced in the direction whence came the snarl.
He turned the corner of a wall, and, behind in the vast sepulchral lightmade by the reflection of snow and sea, he saw a thing placed as if forshelter. It was a cart, unless it was a hovel. It had wheels--it was acarriage. It had a roof--it was a dwelling. From the roof arose afunnel, and out of the funnel smoke. This smoke was red, and seemed toimply a good fire in the interior. Behind, projecting hinges indicated adoor, and in the centre of this door a square opening showed a lightinside the caravan. He approached.
Whatever had growled perceived his approach, and became furious. It wasno longer a growl which he had to meet; it was a roar. He heard a sharpsound, as of a chain violently pulled to its full length, and suddenly,under the door, between the hind wheels, two rows of sharp white teethappeared. At the same time as the mouth between the wheels a head wasput through the window.
"Peace there!" said the head.
The mouth was silent.
The head began again,--
"Is any one there?"
The child answered,--
"Yes."
"Who?"
"I."
"You? Who are you? whence do you come?"
"I am weary," said the child.
"What o'clock is it?"
"I am cold."
"What are you doing there?"
"I am hungry."
The head replied,--
"Every one cannot be as happy as a lord. Go away."
The head was withdrawn and the window closed.
The child bowed his forehead, drew the sleeping infant closer in hisarms, and collected his strength to resume his journey. He had taken afew steps, and was hurrying away.
However, at the same time that the window closed the door had opened; astep had been let down; the voice which had spoken to the child criedout angrily from the inside of the van,--
"Well! why do you not enter?"
The child turned back.
"Come in," resumed the voice. "Who has sent me a fellow like this, whois hungry and cold, and who does not come in?"
The child, at once repulsed and invited, remained motionless.
The voice continued,--
"You are told to come in, you young rascal."
He made up his mind, and placed one foot on the lowest step.
There was a great growl under the van. He drew back. The gaping jawsappeared.
"Peace!" cried the voice of the man.
The jaws retreated, the growling ceased.
"Come up!" continued the man.
The child with difficulty climbed up the three steps. He was impeded bythe infant, so benumbed, rolled up and enveloped in the jacket thatnothing could be distinguished of her, and she was but a littleshapeless mass.
He passed over the three steps; and having reached the threshold,stopped.
No candle was burning in the caravan, probably from the economy of want.The hut was lighted only by a red tinge, arising from the opening at thetop of the stove, in which sparkled a peat fire. On the stove weresmoking a porringer and a saucepan, containing to all appearancesomething to eat. The savoury odour was perceptible. The hut wasfurnished with a chest, a stool, and an unlighted lantern which hungfrom the ceiling. Besides, to the partition were attached some boards onbrackets and some hooks, from which hung a variety of things. On theboards and nails were rows of glasses, coppers, an alembic, a vesselrather like those used for graining wax, which are called granulators,and a confusion of strange objects of which the child understoodnothing, and which were utensils for cooking and chemistry. The caravanwas oblong in shape, the stove being in front. It was not even a littleroom; it was scarcely a big box. There was more light outside from thesnow than inside from the stove. Everything in the caravan wasindistinct and misty. Nevertheless, a reflection of the fire on theceiling enabled the spectator to read in large letters,--
URSUS, PHILOSOPHER.
The child, in fact, was entering the house of Homo and Ursus. The one hehad just heard growling, the other speaking.
The child having reached the threshold, perceived near the stove a man,tall, smooth, thin and old, dressed in gray, whose head, as he stood,reached the roof. The man could not have raised himself on tiptoe. Thecaravan was just his size.
"Come in!" said the man, who was Ursus.
The child entered.
"Put down your bundle."
The child placed his burden carefully on the top of the chest, for fearof awakening and terrifying it.
The man continued,--
"How gently you put it down! You could not be more careful were it acase of relics. Is it that you are afraid of tearing a hole in yourrags? Worthless vagabond! in the streets at this hour! Who are you?Answer! But no. I forbid you to answer. There! You are cold. Warmyourself as quick as you can," and he shoved him by the shoulders infront of the fire.
"How wet you are! You're frozen through! A nice state to come into ahouse! Come, take off those rags, you villain!" and as with one hand,and with feverish haste, he dragged off the boy's rags which tore intoshreds, with the other he took down from a nail a man's shirt, and oneof those knitted jackets which are up to this day called kiss-me-quicks.
"Here are clothes."
He chose out of a heap a woollen rag, and chafed before the fire thelimbs of the exhausted and bewildered child, who at that moment, warmand naked, felt as if he were seeing and touching heaven. The limbshaving been rubbed, he next wiped the boy's feet.
"Come, you limb; you have nothing frost-bitten! I was a fool to fancyyou had something frozen, hind legs or fore paws. You will not lose theuse of them this time. Dress yourself!"
The child put on the shirt, and the man slipped the knitted jacket overit.
"Now...."
The man kicked the stool forward and made the little boy sit down, againshoving him by the shoulders; then he pointed with his finger to theporringer which was smoking upon the stove. What the child saw in theporringer was again heaven to him--namely, a potato and a bit of bacon.
"You are hungry; eat!"
The man took from the shelf a crust of hard bread and an iron fork, andhanded them to the child.
The boy hesitated.
"Perhaps you expect me to lay the cloth," said the man, and he placedthe porringer on the child's lap.
"Gobble that up."
Hunger overcame astonishment. The child began to eat. The poor boydevoured rather than ate. The glad sound of the crunching of bread filedthe hut. The man grumbled,--
"Not so quick, you horrid glutton! Isn't he a greedy scoundrel? Whensuch scum are hungry, they eat in a revolting fashion. You should see alord sup. In my time I have seen dukes eat. They don't eat; that'snoble. They drink, however. Come, you pig, stuff yourself!"
The absence of ears, which is the concomitant of a hungry stomach,caused the child to take little heed of these violent epithets, temperedas they were by charity of action involving a contradiction resulting inhis benefit. For the moment he was absorbed by two exigencies and by twoecstasies--food and warmth.
Ursus continued his imprecations, muttering to himself,--
"I have seen King James supping _in propria persona_ in the BanquetingHouse, where are to be admired the paintings of the famous Rubens. HisMajesty touched nothing. This beggar here browses: browses, a wordderived from brute. What put it into my head to come to this Weymouthseven times devoted to the infernal deities? I have sold nothing sincemorning I have harangued the snow. I have played the flute to thehurricane. I have not pocketed a farthing; and now, to-night, beggarsdrop in. Horrid place! There is battle, strugg
le, competition betweenthe fools in the street and myself. They try to give me nothing butfarthings. I try to give them nothing but drugs. Well, to-day I've madenothing. Not an idiot on the highway, not a penny in the till. Eat away,hell-born boy! Tear and crunch! We have fallen on times when nothing canequal the cynicism of spongers. Fatten at my expense, parasite! Thiswretched boy is more than hungry; he is mad. It is not appetite, it isferocity. He is carried away by a rabid virus. Perhaps he has theplague. Have you the plague, you thief? Suppose he were to give it toHomo! No, never! Let the populace die, but not my wolf. But by-the-bye Iam hungry myself. I declare that this is all very disagreeable. I haveworked far into the night. There are seasons in a man's life when he ishard pressed. I was to-night, by hunger. I was alone. I made a fire. Ihad but one potato, one crust of bread, a mouthful of bacon, and a dropof milk, and I put it to warm. I said to myself, 'Good.' I think I amgoing to eat, and bang! this crocodile falls upon me at the very moment.He installs himself clean between my food and myself. Behold, how mylarder is devastated! Eat, pike, eat! You shark! how many teeth have youin your jaws? Guzzle, wolf-cub; no, I withdraw that word. I respectwolves. Swallow up my food, boa. I have worked all day, and far into thenight, on an empty stomach; my throat is sore, my pancreas in distress,my entrails torn; and my reward is to see another eat. 'Tis all one,though! We will divide. He shall have the bread, the potato, and thebacon; but I will have the milk."
Just then a wail, touching and prolonged, arose in the hut. The manlistened.
"You cry, sycophant! Why do you cry?"
The boy turned towards him. It was evident that it was not he who cried.He had his mouth full.
The cry continued.
The man went to the chest.
"So it is your bundle that wails! Vale of Jehoshaphat! Behold avociferating parcel! What the devil has your bundle got to croak about?"
He unrolled the jacket. An infant's head appeared, the mouth open andcrying.
"Well, who goes there?" said the man. "Here is another of them. When isthis to end? Who is there? To arms! Corporal, call out the guard!Another bang! What have you brought me, thief! Don't you see it isthirsty? Come! the little one must have a drink. So now I shall not haveeven the milk!"
He took down from the things lying in disorder on the shelf a bandage oflinen, a sponge and a phial, muttering savagely, "What an infernalplace!"
Then he looked at the little infant. "'Tis a girl! one can tell that byher scream, and she is drenched as well." He dragged away, as he haddone from the boy, the tatters in which she was knotted up rather thandressed, and swathed her in a rag, which, though of coarse linen, wasclean and dry. This rough and sudden dressing made the infant angry.
"She mews relentlessly," said he.
He bit off a long piece of sponge, tore from the roll a square piece oflinen, drew from it a bit of thread, took the saucepan containing themilk from the stove, filled the phial with milk, drove down the spongehalfway into its neck, covered the sponge with linen, tied this cork inwith the thread, applied his cheeks to the phial to be sure that it wasnot too hot, and seized under his left arm the bewildered bundle whichwas still crying. "Come! take your supper, creature! Let me suckle you,"and he put the neck of the bottle to its mouth.
The little infant drank greedily.
He held the phial at the necessary incline, grumbling, "They are all thesame, the cowards! When they have all they want they are silent."
The child had drunk so ravenously, and had seized so eagerly this breastoffered by a cross-grained providence, that she was taken with a fit ofcoughing.
"You are going to choke!" growled Ursus. "A fine gobbler this one, too!"
He drew away the sponge which she was sucking, allowed the cough tosubside, and then replaced the phial to her lips, saying, "Suck, youlittle wretch!"
In the meantime the boy had laid down his fork. Seeing the infant drinkhad made him forget to eat. The moment before, while he ate, theexpression in his face was satisfaction; now it was gratitude. Hewatched the infant's renewal of life; the completion of the resurrectionbegun by himself filled his eyes with an ineffable brilliancy. Ursuswent on muttering angry words between his teeth. The little boy now andthen lifted towards Ursus his eyes moist with the unspeakable emotionwhich the poor little being felt, but was unable to express. Ursusaddressed him furiously.
"Well, will you eat?"
"And you?" said the child, trembling all over, and with tears in hiseyes. "You will have nothing!"
"Will you be kind enough to eat it all up, you cub? There is not toomuch for you, since there was not enough for me."
The child took up his fork, but did not eat.
"Eat," shouted Ursus. "What has it got to do with me? Who speaks of me?Wretched little barefooted clerk of Penniless Parish, I tell you, eat itall up! You are here to eat, drink, and sleep--eat, or I will kick youout, both of you."
The boy, under this menace, began to eat again. He had not much troublein finishing what was left in the porringer. Ursus muttered, "Thisbuilding is badly joined. The cold comes in by the window pane." A panehad indeed been broken in front, either by a jolt of the caravan or by astone thrown by some mischievous boy. Ursus had placed a star of paperover the fracture, which had become unpasted. The blast entered there.
He was half seated on the chest. The infant in his arms, and at the sametime on his lap, was sucking rapturously at the bottle, in the happysomnolency of cherubim before their Creator, and infants at theirmothers' breast.
"She is drunk," said Ursus; and he continued, "After this, preachsermons on temperance!"
The wind tore from the pane the plaster of paper, which flew across thehut; but this was nothing to the children, who were entering life anew.Whilst the little girl drank, and the little boy ate, Ursus grumbled,--
"Drunkenness begins in the infant in swaddling clothes. What usefultrouble Bishop Tillotson gives himself, thundering against excessivedrinking. What an odious draught of wind! And then my stove is old. Itallows puffs of smoke to escape enough to give you trichiasis. One hasthe inconvenience of cold, and the inconvenience of fire. One cannot seeclearly. That being over there abuses my hospitality. Well, I have notbeen able to distinguish the animal's face yet. Comfort is wantinghere. By Jove! I am a great admirer of exquisite banquets in well closedrooms. I have missed my vocation. I was born to be a sensualist. Thegreatest of stoics was Philoxenus, who wished to possess the neck of acrane, so as to be longer in tasting the pleasures of the table.Receipts to-day, naught. Nothing sold all day. Inhabitants, servants,and tradesmen, here is the doctor, here are the drugs. You are losingyour time, old friend. Pack up your physic. Every one is well down here.It's a cursed town, where every one is well! The skies alone havediarrhoea--what snow! Anaxagoras taught that the snow was black; and hewas right, cold being blackness. Ice is night. What a hurricane! I canfancy the delight of those at sea. The hurricane is the passage ofdemons. It is the row of the tempest fiends galloping and rolling headover heels above our bone-boxes. In the cloud this one has a tail, thatone has horns, another a flame for a tongue, another claws to its wings,another a lord chancellor's paunch, another an academician's pate. Youmay observe a form in every sound. To every fresh wind a fresh demon.The ear hears, the eye sees, the crash is a face. Zounds! There arefolks at sea--that is certain. My friends, get through the storm as bestyou can. I have enough to do to get through life. Come now, do I keep aninn, or do I not? Why should I trade with these travellers? Theuniversal distress sends its spatterings even as far as my poverty. Intomy cabin fall hideous drops of the far-spreading mud of mankind. I amgiven up to the voracity of travellers. I am a prey--the prey of thosedying of hunger. Winter, night, a pasteboard hut, an unfortunate friendbelow and without, the storm, a potato, a fire as big as my fist,parasites, the wind penetrating through every cranny, not a halfpenny,and bundles which set to howling. I open them and find beggars inside.Is this fair? Besides, the laws are violated. Ah! vagabond with yourvagabond child! Mischievous pick-pocket, evil-
minded abortion, so youwalk the streets after curfew? If our good king only knew it, would henot have you thrown into the bottom of a ditch, just to teach youbetter? My gentleman walks out at night with my lady, and with the glassat fifteen degrees of frost, bare-headed and bare-footed. Understandthat such things are forbidden. There are rules and regulations, youlawless wretches. Vagabonds are punished, honest folks who have housesare guarded and protected. Kings are the fathers of their people. I havemy own house. You would have been whipped in the public street had youchanced to have been met, and quite right, too. There must be order inan established city. For my own part, I did wrong not to denounce you tothe constable. But I am such a fool! I understand what is right and dowhat is wrong. O the ruffian! to come here in such a state! I did notsee the snow upon them when they came in; it had melted, and here's mywhole house swamped. I have an inundation in my home. I shall have toburn an incredible amount of coals to dry up this lake--coals at twelvefarthings the miners' standard! How am I going to manage to fit threeinto this caravan? Now it is over; I enter the nursery; I am going tohave in my house the weaning of the future beggardom of England. I shallhave for employment, office, and function, to fashion the miscarriedfortunes of that colossal prostitute, Misery, to bring to perfectionfuture gallows' birds, and to give young thieves the forms ofphilosophy. The tongue of the wolf is the warning of God. And to thinkthat if I had not been eaten up by creatures of this kind for the lastthirty years, I should be rich; Homo would be fat; I should have amedicine-chest full of rarities; as many surgical instruments as DoctorLinacre, surgeon to King Henry VIII.; divers animals of all kinds;Egyptian mummies, and similar curiosities; I should be a member of theCollege of Physicians, and have the right of using the library, built in1652 by the celebrated Hervey, and of studying in the lantern of thatdome, whence you can see the whole of London. I could continue myobservations of solar obfuscation, and prove that a caligenous vapourarises from the planet. Such was the opinion of John Kepler, who wasborn the year before the Massacre of St. Bartholomew, and who wasmathematician to the emperor. The sun is a chimney which sometimessmokes; so does my stove. My stove is no better than the sun. Yes, Ishould have made my fortune; my part would have been a different one--Ishould not be the insignificant fellow I am. I should not degradescience in the highways, for the crowd is not worthy of the doctrine,the crowd being nothing better than a confused mixture of all sorts ofages, sexes, humours, and conditions, that wise men of all periods havenot hesitated to despise, and whose extravagance and passion the mostmoderate men in their justice detest. Oh, I am weary of existence! Afterall, one does not live long! The human life is soon done with. Butno--it is long. At intervals, that we should not become too discouraged,that we may have the stupidity to consent to bear our being, and notprofit by the magnificent opportunities to hang ourselves which cordsand nails afford, nature puts on an air of taking a little care ofman--not to-night, though. The rogue causes the wheat to spring up,ripens the grape, gives her song to the nightingale. From time to time aray of morning or a glass of gin, and that is what we call happiness! Itis a narrow border of good round a huge winding-sheet of evil. We have adestiny of which the devil has woven the stuff and God has sewn the hem.In the meantime, you have eaten my supper, you thief!"
In the meantime the infant whom he was holding all the time in his armsvery tenderly whilst he was vituperating, shut its eyes languidly; asign of repletion. Ursus examined the phial, and grumbled,--
"She has drunk it all up, the impudent creature!"
He arose, and sustaining the infant with his left arm, with his right heraised the lid of the chest and drew from beneath it a bear-skin--theone he called, as will be remembered, his real skin. Whilst he was doingthis he heard the other child eating, and looked at him sideways.
"It will be something to do if, henceforth, I have to feed that growingglutton. It will be a worm gnawing at the vitals of my industry."
He spread out, still with one arm, the bear-skin on the chest, workinghis elbow and managing his movements so as not to disturb the sleep intowhich the infant was just sinking.
Then he laid her down on the fur, on the side next the fire. Having doneso, he placed the phial on the stove, and exclaimed,--
"I'm thirsty, if you like!"
He looked into the pot. There were a few good mouthfuls of milk left init; he raised it to his lips. Just as he was about to drink, his eyefell on the little girl. He replaced the pot on the stove, took thephial, uncorked it, poured into it all the milk that remained, which wasjust sufficient to fill it, replaced the sponge and the linen rag overit, and tied it round the neck of the bottle.
"All the same, I'm hungry and thirsty," he observed.
And he added,--
"When one cannot eat bread, one must drink water."
Behind the stove there was a jug with the spout off. He took it andhanded it to the boy.
"Will you drink?"
The child drank, and then went on eating.
Ursus seized the pitcher again, and conveyed it to his mouth. Thetemperature of the water which it contained had been unequally modifiedby the proximity of the stove.
He swallowed some mouthfuls and made a grimace.
"Water! pretending to be pure, thou resemblest false friends. Thou artwarm at the top and cold at bottom."
In the meantime the boy had finished his supper. The porringer was morethan empty; it was cleaned out. He picked up and ate pensively a fewcrumbs caught in the folds of the knitted jacket on his lap.
Ursus turned towards him.
"That is not all. Now, a word with you. The mouth is not made only foreating; it is made for speaking. Now that you are warmed and stuffed,you beast, take care of yourself. You are going to answer my questions.Whence do you come?"
The child replied,--
"I do not know."
"How do you mean? you don't know?"
"I was abandoned this evening on the sea-shore."
"You little scamp! what's your name? He is so good for nothing that hisrelations desert him."
"I have no relations."
"Give in a little to my tastes, and observe that I do not like those whosing to a tune of fibs. Thou must have relatives since you have asister."
"It is not my sister."
"It is not your sister?"
"No."
"Who is it then?"
"It is a baby that I found."
"Found?"
"Yes."
"What! did you pick her up?"
"Yes."
"Where? If you lie I will exterminate you."
"On the breast of a woman who was dead in the snow."
"When?"
"An hour ago."
"Where?"
"A league from here."
The arched brow of Ursus knitted and took that pointed shape whichcharacterizes emotion on the brow of a philosopher.
"Dead! Lucky for her! We must leave her in the snow. She is well offthere. In which direction?"
"In the direction of the sea."
"Did you cross the bridge?"
"Yes."
Ursus opened the window at the back and examined the view.
The weather had not improved. The snow was falling thickly andmournfully.
He shut the window.
He went to the broken glass; he filled the hole with a rag; he heapedthe stove with peat; he spread out as far as he could the bear-skin onthe chest; took a large book which he had in a corner, placed it underthe skin for a pillow, and laid the head of the sleeping infant on it.
Then he turned to the boy.
"Lie down there."
The boy obeyed, and stretched himself at full length by the side of theinfant.
Ursus rolled the bear-skin over the two children, and tucked it undertheir feet.
He took down from a shelf, and tied round his waist, a linen belt with alarge pocket containing, no doubt, a case of instruments and bottles ofrestoratives.
Then he took the lantern from where it hung
to the ceiling and lightedit. It was a dark lantern. When lighted it still left the children inshadow.
Ursus half opened the door, and said,--
"I am going out; do not be afraid. I shall return. Go to sleep."
Then letting down the steps, he called Homo. He was answered by aloving growl.
Ursus, holding the lantern in his hand, descended. The steps werereplaced, the door was reclosed. The children remained alone.
From without, a voice, the voice of Ursus, said,--
"You, boy, who have just eaten up my supper, are you already asleep?"
"No," replied the child.
"Well, if she cries, give her the rest of the milk."
The clinking of a chain being undone was heard, and the sound of a man'sfootsteps, mingled with that of the pads of an animal, died off in thedistance. A few minutes after, both children slept profoundly.
The little boy and girl, lying naked side by side, were joined throughthe silent hours, in the seraphic promiscuousness of the shadows; suchdreams as were possible to their age floated from one to the other;beneath their closed eyelids there shone, perhaps, a starlight; if theword marriage were not inappropriate to the situation, they were husbandand wife after the fashion of the angels. Such innocence in suchdarkness, such purity in such an embrace; such foretastes of heaven arepossible only to childhood, and no immensity approaches the greatness oflittle children. Of all gulfs this is the deepest. The fearfulperpetuity of the dead chained beyond life, the mighty animosity of theocean to a wreck, the whiteness of the snow over buried bodies, do notequal in pathos two children's mouths meeting divinely in sleep,[10] andthe meeting of which is not even a kiss. A betrothal perchance,perchance a catastrophe. The unknown weighs down upon theirjuxtaposition. It charms, it terrifies; who knows which? It stays thepulse. Innocence is higher than virtue. Innocence is holy ignorance.They slept. They were in peace. They were warm. The nakedness of theirbodies, embraced each in each, amalgamated with the virginity of theirsouls. They were there as in the nest of the abyss.