CHAPTER II
THE SHOEMAKER'S VISITOR
In the evening of that same day, after their supper, Louise, havingtaken her spinning-wheel, was gone for a little diversion to the MotherRochart's where all the good women and young girls of the neighborhoodused to assemble till near midnight. They spent their time in relatingold legends, talking of the rain, of the weather, of marriages,baptisms, of the departure or return of the conscripts, and what not,that enabled them to pass the hours agreeably.
Hullin remained alone before his little copper lamp, nailing the shoesof the old wood-cutter. He no longer thought of the madman Yegof. Hishammer rose and fell, driving the great nails into the thick woodenshoes quite mechanically, by force of habit. In the meantime thousandsof ideas came into his head; he was thoughtful without knowing why.Now it was Gaspard, who gave no signs of being alive; then it was thecampaign, which was being indefinitely prolonged. The lamp threw itsyellowish light around the smoky little room. Outside, not a sound.The fire began to die away. Jean-Claude rose to put on a fagot, thensat down again, muttering,--"Bah! this cannot last; we shall receive aletter one of these days."
The old clock began to strike nine; and as Hullin was recommencing hiswork, the door opened and Catherine Lefevre, the mistress ofBois-de-Chenes, appeared on the threshold, to the great stupefaction ofthe shoemaker, for it was not her custom to arrive at such a time.
Catherine Lefevre might have been sixty years old, but she was asupright and strong as at thirty. Her clear gray eyes and beaked noseresembled those of a bird of prey; the corners of her mouth turneddown, and made her look somewhat gloomy and sad; two or three locks ofgray hair fell over her forehead; a brown striped hood reached from herhead, over her shoulders and down to her elbows. Her physiognomyannounced a steadfast, tenacious character, with somethingindescribably grand and mournful about it, which inspired both respectand fear.
"Can it be you, Catherine?" said Hullin, in astonishment.
"Yes, it is I," replied the old dame, calmly. "I am come to talk withyou, Jean-Claude.... Louise is away?"
"She has gone for a little amusement to Madeleine Rochart's."
"It is well."
Then Catherine pushed back her hood from her head, and sat down at theend of the bench. Hullin looked fixedly at her: he perceived somethingextraordinary and mysterious about her which fascinated him.
"What has happened, then?" said he, putting down his hammer.
Instead of answering this question, she turned toward the door, andseemed to be listening; then hearing no sound, her serious expressioncame back.
"Yegof the madman spent last night at the farm," said she.
"He came to see me this afternoon," rejoined Hullin, without attachingany importance to this fact, which was totally indifferent to him.
"Yes," replied the old dame, in a low voice, "he spent the night withus; and yesterday evening, about this time, in the kitchen, before usall, this madman related terrible things!"
Then she relapsed into silence, and the corners of her mouth seemed toturn down more than ever.
"Terrible things!" murmured the shoemaker, excessively astonished: forhe had never seen Catherine Lefevre in such a condition before. "Butwhat then? say, what?"
"Dreams I have had!"
"Dreams? You certainly want to make fun of me!"
"No!"
Then, after a short pause, she slowly continued--"Yesterday evening,all our people were assembled in the kitchen around the large fireplaceafter supper; the table still remained covered with empty dishes,plates, and spoons. Yegof had partaken of it with us, and had amusedus with the history of his treasures, castles, and provinces. It mighthave been toward nine o'clock: the madman was sitting at one end of theblazing fire; old Duchene, my ploughboy, was mending Bruno's saddle;the herdsman, Robin, was plaiting a basket; Annette arranged her panson the shelves: and I had brought my wheel nearer the fire to finishspinning a distaff-ful before going to bed. Out of doors, the dogswere barking at the moon; the cold was very great. We were all there,talking of the coming winter. Duchene said it would be very severe,for he had seen several flocks of wild-geese. And Yegof's raven, onthe edge of the mantel-piece, its head buried in its raffled feathers,seemed to sleep; but now and then it would elongate its neck and watchus, listen a moment and then cover itself again in its plumes."
She remained silent a moment, as though to collect her ideas; hereyelids drooped, her great beaked nose seemed to bend down on to herlips, and a strange pallor came over her face.
"What the devil is coming next?" thought Hullin.
The old woman continued: "Yegof near the fire, with his tin crown, andhis short stick on his knees, was dreaming of something. He looked atthe great black chimney, the stone mantel-piece, which is carved withdifferent figures and trees, and the smoke which went up in greatclouds around the sides of bacon: when suddenly he struck with the endof his stick on to the tiles and called out, as though in adream--'Yes, yes, I have seen that long ago--long ago!' And as we alllooked at him speechless--'In those times,' he went on to say, 'thepine-forests were forests of oak. The Nideck, the Dagsberg,Falkenstein, Geroldseck, all those old ruined castles did not exist.In those times the bison could be hunted in the depths of the woods,the salmon caught in the Sarre, and you, the fair men, were buried insnow six months of the year. You lived on milk and cheese, for you hadmany flocks and herds on the Hengst, the Schneeberg, the Grosmann, theDonon. In the summer you hunted: you came down to the Rhine, theMoselle, the Meuse. I can recall it all!'
"And wonderful to relate, Jean-Claude, as the madman spoke, I seemed tosee also these countries of years gone by, and to remember them as Ishould a dream. I had let fall my distaff, and Duchene, Robin,Jeanne--in fact, everybody--listened. 'Yes, it was long ago,' hecontinued. 'In those days you were already building these greatchimneys; and all around, at a distance of two or three hundred yards,you planted palisades fifteen feet high, and with the points hardenedby the fire. And inside them you kept your big dogs with their hangingcheeks, who barked day and night.'
"We could see what he said, Jean-Claude; we could see it all. But hepaid no heed to us: he regarded the figures on the chimney-piece withhis mouth open; but, in an instant, having stooped his head and seeinghow attentive we all were, he laughed with a wild, mad laughter, andcried out:--'In those days you believed yourselves the lords of thecountry, O fair men, with your blue eyes and white skins, fed on milkand cheese, and only tasting blood in the autumn, at the great hunts:you believed yourselves the masters of the plains and mountains, whenwe, the red men, with the green eyes, out of the sea--we who drankalways blood and only liked battles--one fine morning we arrived withour axes and spears, and ascended the Sarre under the shadows of theold oaks. Ah! it was a cruel war, which lasted weeks and months. Andthe old woman--there--' said he, pointing at me, with a singular smile,'the Margareth of the clan of Kilberix, that old woman with her beakednose, in her palisades, in the midst of her dogs and warriors--shefought like a wolf. But when five moons had passed, hunger arrived.The doors of the palisades opened for flight, and we, in ambush in thestream--we massacred all!--all--except the children and the beautifulyoung girls. The old woman, alone, defended herself to the last withher teeth and nails; and I, Luitprandt, clove her head in two; and Itook her father, the aged man and blind, to chain him at the door of mycastle like a dog!'
"Then, Hullin," continued the old woman, "the madman began to chant along song--the lamentation of the old man chained to his doorway. Waittill I can recall it, Jean-Claude. It was mournful--mournful as a_Miserere_. No, I cannot remember it; but I seem still to hear it. Itmade our blood curdle; and, as he laughed without ceasing, at last allour servants gave a terrible cry, rage seized them. Duchene sprang onthe madman to strangle him; but he, with more strength than one couldsuppose he possessed, threw him back, and raising his stick furiously,said to us:--'On your knees, slaves--on your knees! My armies areadvancing! Do you hear? The earth t
rembles with them. These castles,the Nideck, the Haut-Barr, the Dagsberg, the Turkestein, you shallbuild them up again! On your knees!'
"I never saw a more fearful face than Yegof's at that moment; but,seeing for the second time my servants rising against him, I wasobliged to defend him myself. 'It is a madman,' I said to them. 'Areyou not ashamed to believe in the words of a madman?' They stopped onmy account; but I could not close my eyes that night. The words ofthat wretched man kept recurring to me. I seemed to hear the chant ofthe old prisoner, the barking of our dogs, and the sounds of battle.For years I have never felt so uneasy. That is why I came to see you,Jean-Claude. What do you think of it?"
"I?" exclaimed the shoemaker, in whose ruddy face both irony and pitywere visible. "If I did not know you so well, Catherine, I should sayyou were deranged:--you, Duchene, Robin, and the rest of you. All thathas about the same effect on me as one of Genevieve de Brabant'stales--made up to terrify little children, and which shows us howfoolish our ancestors were."
"You do not comprehend these things," said she, in a calm, grave voice;"you have never had any of those ideas."
"Then you believe all that Yegof has said to you?"
"Yes, I believe it."
"What, you, Catherine?--you, a sensible woman? If it were the motherof Rochart I should say nothing; but you!"
He rose as though annoyed, took off his apron, shrugged his shoulders,then sat down again quickly, and called out:--"This madman, do you knowwhat he is? I will tell you. He is most assuredly one of those Germanschool-masters who stuff their brains with 'Old Mother Goose' tales,and then gravely relate them to others. By dint of studying, dreaming,ruminating, their wits get out of order; they have visions, many-sidedideas, and take their dreams for realities. I have always looked uponYegof as one of those poor wretches. He knows lots of names, he speaksof Brittany and Australasia, of Polynesia and the Nideck, and then ofGeroldseck, of the Turkestein, of the Rhine--in fact of everything athazard; and it ends by having the appearance of something when it isnothing. In ordinary times you would think as I do, Catherine; but youare troubled at not receiving any tidings from Gaspard. These rumorsof war and of invasion that are going about torment and unsettle you.You cannot sleep; and what a poor madman says, you regard as Bibletruths."
"No, Hullin; it is not that. If you yourself had heard Yegof----"
"Get along!" exclaimed the good old fellow. "If I had, I should havelaughed at him as I did just now. Do you know that he came to askLouise of me in marriage, to make her queen of Australasia?"
Catherine Lefevre could not restrain a smile; but, regaining almost atonce her serious expression--"All your reasonings, Jean-Claude," saidshe, "cannot convince me; but, I confess it, the silence of Gasperfrightens me. I know my son: he would certainly have written to me.Why have his letters never reached me? The war is going on badly,Hullin--we have all the world against us. They don't want ourrevolution--you know it as well as I do. So long as we were masters,and won victory after victory, they looked kindly on us; but since ourRussian misfortunes, things wear a bad aspect."
"La, La, Catherine, how you get carried away. You see everythinggloomily."
"Yes, I see everything gloomily, and I am right. What makes me souneasy is, that we never get any news from the outer world; we livehere as in a savage country: one knows of nothing that goes on. TheAustrians and the Cossacks could be upon us at any time, and we shouldbe taken by surprise."
Hullin observed the old dame, whose expression was very animated; andeven he began to be influenced by the same fears.
"Listen, Catherine," said he, suddenly. "When you speak in areasonable manner, it is not I who would say anything against it. Allyou now tell me is possible. I do not believe in it; but one might aswell make sure. I had intended to go to Phalsbourg in a week, to buysheepskins for trimming some shoes: I will go to-morrow. AtPhalsbourg, a garrison and post town, there must be some reliable news.Will you believe those I shall bring you on my return from that place?"
"Yes."
"Good; it is then arranged. I shall leave to-morrow early. There arefive leagues in all. I shall return about six o'clock. You will see,Catherine, that all your dismal ideas have no sense in them."
"I hope so," she replied, rising. "I hope so. You have somewhatreassured me, Hullin. Now I will go to the farm, and may I sleepbetter than I did last night. Good-night, Jean-Claude."