an old maid-第23章

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see　your　youth　go　by　without　a　joy！　nothing　but　toil　for　my　poor　boy

in　life！　That　thought　is　like　an　illness　to　a　mother；　it　tortures　me

at　night；　it　wakes　me　in　the　morning。　O　God！　what　have　I　done？　for

what　crime　dost　thou　punish　me　thus？〃



She　left　her　sofa；　took　a　little　chair；　and　sat　close　to　Athanase；　so

as　to　lay　her　head　on　the　bosom　of　her　child。　There　is　always　the

grace　of　love　in　true　motherhood。　Athanase　kissed　her　on　the　eyes；　on

her　gray　hair；　on　her　forehead；　with　the　sacred　desire　of　laying　his

soul　wherever　he　applied　his　lips。



〃I　shall　never　succeed；〃　he　said；　trying　to　deceive　his　mother　as　to

the　fatal　resolution　he　was　revolving　in　his　mind。



〃Pooh！　don't　get　discouraged。　As　you　often　say；　thought　can　do　all

things。　With　ten　bottles　of　ink；　ten　reams　of　paper；　and　his　powerful

will；　Luther　upset　all　Europe。　Well；　you'll　make　yourself　famous；　you

will　do　good　things　by　the　same　means　which　he　used　to　do　evil　things。

Haven't　you　said　so　yourself？　For　my　part；　I　listen　to　you；　I

understand　you　a　great　deal　more　than　you　think　I　do；for　I　still

bear　you　in　my　bosom；　and　your　every　thought　still　stirs　me　as　your

slightest　motion　did　in　other　days。〃



〃I　shall　never　succeed　here；　mamma；　and　I　don't　want　you　to　witness

the　sight　of　my　struggles；　my　misery；　my　anguish。　Oh；　mother；　let　me

leave　Alencon！　I　want　to　suffer　away　from　you。〃



〃And　I　wish　to　be　at　your　side；〃　replied　his　mother；　proudly。　〃Suffer

without　your　mother！that　poor　mother　who　would　be　your　servant　if

necessary；　who　will　efface　herself　rather　than　injure　you；　your

mother；　who　will　never　shame　you。　No；　no；　Athanase；　we　must　not　part。〃



Athanase　clung　to　his　mother　with　the　ardor　of　a　dying　man　who　clings

to　life。



〃But　I　wish　it；　nevertheless。　If　not；　you　will　lose　me；　this　double

grief；　yours　and　mine；　is　killing　me。　You　would　rather　I　lived　than

died？〃



Madame　Granson　looked　at　her　son　with　a　haggard　eye。



〃So　this　is　what　you　have　been　brooding？〃　she　said。　〃They　told　me

right。　Do　you　really　mean　to　go？〃



〃Yes。〃



〃You　will　not　go　without　telling　me；　without　warning　me？　You　must　have

an　outfit　and　money。　I　have　some　louis　sewn　into　my　petticoat；　I　shall

give　them　to　you。〃



Athanase　wept。



〃That's　all　I　wanted　to　tell　you；〃　he　said。　〃Now　I'll　take　you　to　the

du　Roncerets'。　Come。〃



The　mother　and　the　son　went　out。　Athanase　left　his　mother　at　the　door

of　the　house　where　she　intended　to　pass　the　evening。　He　looked　long　at

the　light　which　came　through　the　shutters；　he　clung　closely　to　the

wall；　and　a　frenzied　joy　came　over　him　when　he　presently　heard　his

mother　say；　〃He　has　great　independence　of　heart。〃



〃Poor　mother！　I　have　deceived　her；〃　he　cried；　as　he　made　his　way　to

the　Sarthe。



He　reached　the　noble　poplar　beneath　which　he　had　meditated　so　much　for

the　last　forty　days；　and　where　he　had　placed　two　heavy　stones　on　which

he　now　sat　down。　He　contemplated　that　beautiful　nature　lighted　by　the

moon；　he　reviewed　once　more　the　glorious　future　he　had　longed　for；　he

passed　through　towns　that　were　stirred　by　his　name；　he　heard　the

applauding　crowds；　he　breathed　the　incense　of　his　fame；　he　adored　that

life　long　dreamed　of；　radiant；　he　sprang　to　radiant　triumphs；　he

raised　his　stature；　he　evoked　his　illusions　to　bid　them　farewell　in　a

last　Olympic　feast。　The　magic　had　been　potent　for　a　moment；　but　now　it

vanished　forever。　In　that　awful　hour　he　clung　to　the　beautiful　tree　to

which；　as　to　a　friend；　he　had　attached　himself；　then　he　put　the　two

stones　into　the　pockets　of　his　overcoat；　which　he　buttoned　across　his

breast。　He　had　come　intentionally　without　a　hat。　He　now　went　to　the

deep　pool　he　had　long　selected；　and　glided　into　it　resolutely；　trying

to　make　as　little　noise　as　possible；　and；　in　fact；　making　scarcely

any。



When；　at　half…past　nine　o'clock；　Madame　Granson　returned　home；　her

servant　said　nothing　of　Athanase；　but　gave　her　a　letter。　She　opened　it

and　read　these　few　words；



〃My　good　mother；　I　have　departed；　don't　be　angry　with　me。〃



〃A　pretty　trick　he　has　played　me！〃　she　thought。　〃And　his　linen！　and

the　money！　Well；　he　will　write　to　me；　and　then　I'll　follow　him。　These

poor　children　think　they　are　so　much　cleverer　than　their　fathers　and

mothers。〃



And　she　went　to　bed　in　peace。



During　the　preceding　morning　the　Sarthe　had　risen　to　a　height　foreseen

by　the　fisherman。　These　sudden　rises　of　muddy　water　brought　eels　from

their　various　runlets。　It　so　happened　that　a　fisherman　had　spread　his

net　at　the　very　place　where　poor　Athanase　had　flung　himself；　believing

that　no　one　would　ever　find　him。　About　six　o'clock　in　the　morning　the

man　drew　in　his　net；　and　with　it　the　young　body。　The　few　friends　of

the　poor　mother　took　every　precaution　in　preparing　her　to　receive　the

dreadful　remains。　The　news　of　this　suicide　made；　as　may　well　be

supposed；　a　great　excitement　in　Alencon。　The　poor　young　man　of　genius

had　no　protector　the　night　before；　but　on　the　morrow　of　his　death　a

thousand　voices　cried　aloud；　〃I　would　have　helped　him。〃　It　is　so　easy

and　convenient　to　be　charitable　gratis！



The　suicide　was　explained　by　the　Chevalier　de　Valois。　He　revealed；　in

a　spirit　of　revenge；　the　artless；　sincere；　and　genuine　love　of

Athanase　for　Mademoiselle　Cormon。　Madame　Granson；　enlightened　by　the

chevalier；　remembered　a　thousand　little　circumstances　which　confirmed

the　chevalier's　statement。　The　story　then　became　touching；　and　many

women　wept　over　it。　Madame　Granson's　grief　was　silent；　concentrated；

and　little　understood。　There　are　two　forms　of　mourning　for　mothers。

Often　the　world　can　enter　fully　into　the　nature　of　their　loss：　their

son；　admired；　appreciated；　young；　perhaps　handsome；　with　a　noble　path

before　him；　leading　to　fortune；　possibly　to　fame；　excites　universal

regret；　society　joins　in　the　grief；　and　alleviates　while　it　magnifies

it。　But　there　is　another　sorrow　of　mothers　who　alone　know　what　their

child　was　really；　who　alone　have　received　his　smiles　and　observed　the

treasures　of　a　life　too　soon　cut　short。　That　sorrow　hides　its　woe；　the

blackness　of　which　surpasses　all　other　mourning；　it　cannot　be

described；　happily　there　are　but　few　women　whose　heart…strings　are

thus　severed。



Before　Madame　du　Bousquier　returned　to　town；　Madame　du　Ronceret；　one

of　her　good　friends；　had　driven　out　to　Prebaudet　to　fling　this　corpse

upon　the　roses　of　her　joy；　to　show　her　the　love　she　had　ignored；　and

sweetly　shed　a　thousand　drops　of　wormwood　into　the　honey　of　her　bridal

month。　As　Madame　du　Bousquier　drove　back　to　Alencon；　she　chanced　to

meet　Madame　Granson　at　the　corner　of　the　rue　Val…Noble。　The　glance　of

the　mother；　dying　of　her　grief；　struck　to　the　heart　of　the　poor　woman。

A　thousand　maledictions；　a　thousand　flaming　reproaches；　were　in　that

look：　Madame　du　Bousquier　was　horror…struck；　that　glance　predicted　and

called　down　evil　upon　her　head。



The　evening　after　the　catastrophe；　Madame　Granson；　one　of　the　persons

most　opposed　to　the　rector　of　the　town；　and　who　had　hitherto　supported

the　minister　of　Saint…Leonard；　began　to　tremble　as　she　thought　of　the

inflexible　Catholic　doctrines　professed　by　her　own　party。　After

placing　her　son's　body　in　its　shroud　with　her　own　hands；　thinking　of

the　mother　of　the　Saviour；　she　went；　with　a　soul　convulsed　by　anguish；

to　the　house　of　the　hated　rector。　There　she　found　the　modest　priest　in

an　outer　room；　engaged　in　putting　away　the　flax　and　yarns　with　which

he　supplied　poor　women；　in　order　that　they　might　never　be　wholly　out

of　work；a　form　of　charity　which　saved　many　who　were　incapable　of

begging　from　actual　penury。　The　rector　left　his　yarns　and　hastened　to

take　Madame　Granson　into　his　dining…room；　where　the　wretched　mother

noticed；　as　she　looked　at　his　supper；　the　frugal　method　of　his　own

living。



〃Monsieur　l'abbe；〃　she　said；　〃I　have　come　to　implore　you〃　She　burst

into　tears；　unable　to　continue。



〃I　know　what　brings　you；〃　replied　the　saintly　man。　〃I　must　trust　to

you；　madame；　and　to　your　relation；　Madame　du　Bousquier；　to　pacify

Monseigneur　the　Bishop　at　Seez。　Yes；　I　will　pray　for　your　unhappy

child；　yes；　I　will　say　the　masses。　But　we　must　avoid　all　scandal；　and

give　no　opportunity　for　evil…judging　persons　to　assemble　in　the

church。　I　alone；　without　other　clergy；　at　night〃



〃Yes；　yes；　as　you　think　best；　if　only　he　may　lie　in　consecrated

ground；〃　said　the　poor　mother；　taking　the　priest's　hand　and　kissing

it。



Toward　midnight　a　coffin　was　clandestinely　borne　to　the　parish　church

by　four　young　men；　comrades　whom　Athanase　had　liked　the　best。　A　few

friends　of　Madame　Granson；　women　dressed　in　black；　and　veiled；　were

present；　and　half　a　dozen　other　young　men　who　had　been　somewhat

intimate　with　this　lost　genius。　Four　torches　flickered　on　the　coffin；

which　was　covered　with　crape。　The　rector；　assisted　by　one　discreet

choirboy；　said　the　mortuary　mass。　Then　the　body　of　the　suicide　was

noiselessly　carried　to　a　corner　of　the　cemetery；　where　a　black　wooden

cross；　without　inscription；　was　all　that　indicated　its　place　hereafter

to　the　mother。　Athanase　lived　and　died　in　shadow。　No　voice　was　raised

to　blame　the　rector；　the　bishop　kept　silence。　The　piety　of　the　mother

redeemed　the　impiety　of　the　son's　last　act。



Some　months　later；　the　poor　woman；　half　beside　herself　with　grief；　and

moved　by　one　of　those　inexplicable　thirsts　which　misery　feels　to　steep

its　lips　in　the　bitter　chalice；　determined　to　see　the　spot　where　her

son　was　drowned。　Her　instinct　may　have　told　her　that　thoughts　of　his

could　be　recovered　beneath　that　poplar；　perhaps；　too；　she　desired　to

see　what　his　eyes　had　seen　for　the　last　time。　Some　mothers　would　die

of　the　sight；　others　give　themselves　up　to　it　in　saintly　adoration。

Patient　anatomists　of　human　nature　cannot　too　often　enunciate　the

truths　before　which　all　educations；　laws；　and　philosophical　systems

must　give　way。　Let　us　repeat　continually：　it　is　absurd　to　force

sentiments　into　one　formula：　appearing　as　they　do；　in　each　individual

man；　they　combine　with　the　elements　that　form　his　nature　and　take　his

own　physiognomy。



Madame　Granson；　as　she　stood　on　that　fatal　spot；　saw　a　woman　approach

it；　who　exclaimed；



〃Was　it　here？〃



That　woman　wept　as　the　mother　wept。　It　was　Suzanne。　Arriving　that

morning　at　the　hotel　du　More；　she　had　been　told　of　the　catastrophe。　If

poor　Athanase　had　been　living；　she　meant　to　do　as　many　noble　souls；

who　are　moneyless；　dream　of　doing；　and　as　the　rich　never　think　of

doing；she　meant　to　have　sent　him　several　thousand　francs；　writing　up

the　envelope　the　words：　〃Money　due　to　your　father　from　a　comrade　who

makes　restitution　to　you。〃　This　tender　scheme　had　been　arranged　by

Suzanne　during　her　journey。



The　courtesan　caught　sight　of　Madame　Granson　and　moved　rapidly　away；

whispering　as　she　passed　her；　〃I　loved　him！〃



Suzanne；　faithful　to　her　nature；　did　not　l