The Man With The Broken Ear
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Edmond About >> The Man With The Broken Ear
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"If I could but be sure that you will be happy! But no! This man, before
whom you immolate me, will never know the worth of a soul as delicate as
yours. He is a brute, a swash-buckler, a drunkard."
"I beseech you, Leon, remember that he has a right to my unreserved
respect!"
"Respect! For him! And why? I ask of you, in Heaven's name, what you
find respectable in the character of Mister Fougas? His age? He is
younger than I. His talents? He never shows them anywhere but at the
table. His education? It's lovely! His virtues? _I_ know what is to be
thought of his refinement and gratitude!"
"I have respected him, Leon, since I first saw him in his coffin. It is
a sentiment stronger than all else; I cannot explain it, I can but
submit to it."
"Very well! Respect him as much as you please! Yield to the superstition
that enchains you. See in him a miraculous being, consecrated, rescued
from the grip of Death to accomplish something great on earth! But this
itself, Oh my dear Clementine, is a barrier between you and him! If
Fougas is outside of the conditions of humanity, if he is a phenomenon,
a being apart, a hero, a demigod, a fetich, you cannot seriously think
of becoming his wife. As for me, I am but a man like others, born to
work, to suffer and to love. I love you! Love me!"
"Scoundrel!" cried Fougas, opening the door.
Clementine uttered a cry, Leon sprung up quickly, but the Colonel had
already seized him by the most practicable part of his nankeen suit,
before he had even time to think of a single word in reply. The engineer
was lifted up, balanced like an atom in one of the sunbeams, and flung
into the very midst of the heliotropes. Poor Leon! Poor heliotropes!
In less than a second, the young man was on his feet. He dusted the
earth from his knees and elbows, approached the window, and said in a
calm but resolute voice: "Mister Colonel, I sincerely regret having
brought you back to life, but possibly the folly of which I have been
guilty is not irreparable. I hope soon to have an opportunity to find
out if it be! As for you, Mademoiselle, I love you!"
The Colonel shrugged his shoulders and put himself at the young girl's
feet on the very cushion which still bore the impression left by Leon.
Mlle. Virginie Sambucco, attracted by the noise, came down stairs like
an avalanche and heard the following conversation.
"Idol of a great soul! Fougas returns to thee like the eagle to his
eyrie. I have long traversed the world in pursuit of rank, fortune and
family which I was burning to lay at thy feet. Fortune has obeyed me as
a slave: she knows in what school I learned the art of controlling her.
I have gone through Paris and Germany like a victorious meteor led by
its star. I have everywhere associated as an equal with the powers of
Earth, and made the trumpet of truth resound in the halls of kings. I
have put my foot on the throat of greedy Avarice, and snatched from him
a part, at least, of the treasures which he had stolen from
too-confiding Honor. One only blessing is denied me: the son I hoped to
see has escaped the lynx-eyes of paternal love. Neither have I found the
ancient object of my first affections. But what matters it? I shall feel
the want of nothing, if you fill for me the place of all. What do we
wait for now? Are you deaf to the voice of Happiness which calls you?
Let us go to the temple of the laws, then you shall follow me to the
foot of the altar; a priest shall consecrate our bonds, and we will go
through life leaning on one another, I like the oak sustaining weakness,
thou like the graceful ivy ornamenting the emblem of strength."[10]
Clementine remained a few moments without answering, as if stunned by
the Colonel's vehement rhetoric. "Monsieur Fougas," she said to him, "I
have always obeyed you, I promise to obey you all my life. If you do not
wish me to marry poor Leon, I will renounce him. I love him devotedly,
nevertheless, and a single word from him arouses more emotion in my
heart than all the fine things you have said to me."
"Good! Very good!" cried the Aunt. "As for me, sir, although you have
never done me the honor to consult me, I will tell you my opinion. My
niece is not at all the woman to suit you. Were you richer than M. de
Rothschild and more illustrious than the Duke of Malakoff, I would not
advise Clementine to marry you."
"And why, chaste Minerva?"
"Because you would love her fifteen days, and then, at the first sound
of cannon, be off to the wars! You would abandon her, sir, just as you
did that unhappy Clementine whose misfortunes have been recounted to
us!"
"Zounds! Lady Aunt! I _do_ advise you to bestow your pity on _her_!
Three months after Leipzic, she married a fellow named Langevin at
Nancy."
"What do you say?"
"I say that she married a military commissary named Langevin."
"At Nancy?"
"At that identical town."
"This is strange!
"It's outrageous!
"But this woman--this young girl--her name?
"I've told you a hundred times: Clementine!"
"Clementine what?
"Clementine Pichon."
"Gracious Heavens! My keys! Where are my keys? I'm sure I put them in my
pocket! Clementine Pichon! M. Langevin! It's impossible! My senses are
forsaking me! Come, my child, bestir yourself! The happiness of your
whole life is concerned. Where _did_ you poke my keys? Ah! Here they
are!"
Fougas bent over to Clementine's ear, and said:
"Is she subject to these attacks? One, would suppose that the poor old
girl had lost her head!"
But Virginie Sambucco had already opened a little rosewood secretary.
Her unerring glance discovered in a file of papers, a sheet yellow with
age.
"I've got it!" said she with a cry of joy. "Marie Clementine Pichon,
legitimate daughter of August Pichon, hotel keeper, _rue des Merlettes_,
in this town of Nancy; married June 10th, 1814, to Joseph Langevin,
military sub-commissary. Is it surely she, Monsieur? Dare to say it
isn't she!"
"Well! But how do you happen to have my family papers?"
"Poor Clementine! And you accuse her of unfaithfulness! You do not
understand then that you had been taken for dead! That she supposed
herself a widow without having been a wife; that--"
"It's all right! It's all right! I forgive her. Where is she? I want to
see her, to embrace her, to tell her--"
"She is dead, Monsieur! She died three months after she was married,"
"Ah! The Devil!"
"In giving birth to a daughter--"
"Where is my daughter? I'd rather have had a son, but never mind! Where
is she? I want to see her, to embrace her, to tell her--"
"Alas! She is no more! But I can conduct you to her tomb."
"But how the Devil did you know her?"
"Because she married my brother!"
"Without my consent? But never mind! At least she left some children,
didn't she?"
"Only one."
"A son! He is my grandson!"
"A daughter."
"Never mind! She is my granddaughter! I'd rather have had a grandson,
but where is she? I want to see her, to embrace her, to tell her--"
"Embrace away, Monsieur! Her name is Clementine: after her grandmother,
and there she is!"
"She! That accounts for the resemblance! But then I can't marry her!
Never mind! Clementine! Come to my arms! Embrace your grandfather!"
The poor child had not been able entirely to comprehend this rapid
conversation, from which events had been falling like tiles, upon the
head of the Colonel. She had always heard M. Langevin spoken of as her
maternal grandfather, and now she seemed to hear that her mother was the
daughter of Fougas. But she knew at the first words, that it was no
longer possible for her to marry the Colonel, and that she would soon be
married to Leon Renault. It was, therefore, from an impulse of joy and
gratitude that she flung herself into the arms of the young-old man.
"Ah, Monsieur!" said she, "I have always loved and respected you like a
grandfather!"
"And I, my poor child, have always behaved myself like an old beast! All
men are brutes, and all women are angels. You divined with the delicate
instinct of your sex, that you owed me respect, and I, fool that I am,
didn't divine anything at all! Whew! Without the venerable Aunt there,
I'd have made a pretty piece of work!"
"No," said the aunt. "You would have found out the truth in going over
our family papers."
"Would that I could have seen them and nothing more! Just to think that
I went off to seek my heirs in the department of Meurthe, when I had
left my family in Fontainebleau! Imbecile! Bah! But never mind.
Clementine! You shall be rich, you shall marry the man you love! Where
is he, the brave boy? I want to see him, to embrace him, to tell him--"
"Alas, Monsieur; you just threw him out of the window."
"I? Hold on, it _is_ true. I had forgotten all about it. Fortunately
he's not hurt, and I'll go at once and make amends for my folly. You
shall get married when you want to; the two weddings shall come off
together.--But in fact, no! What am I saying? I shall not marry now! It
will all be well soon, my child, my dear granddaughter. Mademoiselle
Sambucco you're a model aunt; embrace me!"
He ran to M. Renault's house, and Gothon, who saw him coming, ran down
to shut him out.
"Ain't you ashamed of yourself," said she, "to act this way with them as
brought you to life again? Ah! If it had to be done over again! We
wouldn't turn the house upside down again for the sake of your fine
eyes! Madame's crying, Monsieur is tearing his hair, M. Leon has just
been sending two officers to hunt you up. What have you been at again
since morning?"
Fougas gave her a twirl on her feet and found himself face to face with
the engineer. Leon had heard the sound of a quarrel, and on seeing the
Colonel excited, with flashing eyes, he expected some brutal aggression
and did not wait for the first blow. A struggle took place in the
passage amid the cries of Gothon, M. Renault and the poor old lady, who
was screaming: "Murder!" Leon wrestled, kicked, and from time to time
launched a vigorous blow into the body of his antagonist. He had to
succumb, nevertheless; the Colonel finished by upsetting him on the
ground and holding him there. Then he kissed him on both cheeks and said
to him:
"Ah! You naughty boy! Now I'm pretty sure to make you listen to me! I am
Clementine's grandfather, and I give her to you in marriage, and you can
have the wedding to-morrow if you want to! Do you hear? Now get up, and
don't you punch me in the stomach any more. It would be almost
parricide!"
Mlle. Sambucco and Clementine arrived in the midst of the general
stupefaction. They completed the recital of Fougas, who had gotten
himself pretty badly mixed up in the genealogy. Leon's seconds appeared
in their turn. They had not found the enemy in the hotel where he had
taken up his quarters, and came to give an account of their mission. A
tableau of perfect happiness met their astonished gaze, and Leon invited
them to the wedding.
"My friends," said Fougas, "you shall see undeceived Nature bless the
chains of Love."
CHAPTER XX.
A THUNDERBOLT FROM A CLEAR SKY.
"Mlle. Virginie Sambucco has the honor to announce to
you the marriage of Mlle. Clementine Sambucco, her
niece, to M. Leon Renault, civil engineer.
"M. and Mme. Renault have the honor to announce to you
the marriage of M. Leon Renault, their son, to Mlle.
Clementine Sambucco;
"And invite you to be present at the nuptial benediction
which will be given them on the 11th of September, 1859,
in the church of Saint Maxcence, in their parish, at
eleven o'clock precisely."
Fougas absolutely insisted that his name should figure on the cards.
They had all the trouble in the world to cure him of this whim. Mme.
Renault lectured him two full hours. She told him that in the eyes of
society, as well as in the eyes of the law, Clementine was the
granddaughter of M. Langevin; that, moreover, M. Langevin had acted very
liberally in legitimizing by marriage, a daughter that was not his own;
finally, that the publication of such a family secret would be an
outrage against the sanctity of the grave and would tarnish the memory
of poor Clementine Pichon. The Colonel answered with the warmth of a
young man, and the obstinacy of an old one:
"Nature has her rights; they are anterior to the conventions of society,
and a thousand times more exalted. The honor of her I called my AEgle, is
dearer to me than all the treasures of the world, and I would cleave the
soul of any rash being who should attempt to tarnish it. In yielding to
the ardor of my vows, she but conformed to the custom of a great epoch
when the uncertainty of life and the constant existence of war
simplified all formalities. And in conclusion, I do not wish that my
grandchildren, yet to be born, should be ignorant that the source of
their blood is in the veins of Fougas. Your Langevin is but an intruder
who covertly slipped into my family. A commissary! It's almost a sutler!
I spurn under foot the ashes of Langevin!"
His obstinacy would not yield to the arguments of Mme. Renault, but it
succumbed to the entreaties of Clementine. The young creole twisted him
around her finger with irresistible grace.
"My good Grandpa this, my pretty little Grandpa that; my old baby of a
Grandpa, we'll send you off to college if you're not reasonable!"
She used to seat herself familiarly on Fougas' knee, and give him little
love pats on the cheeks. The Colonel would assume the gruffest possible
voice, and then his heart would overflow with tenderness, and he would
cry like a child.
These familiarities added nothing to the happiness of Leon Renault; I
even think that they slightly tempered his joy. Yet he certainly did not
doubt either the love of his betrothed or the honor of Fougas. He was
forced to admit that between a grandfather and his granddaughter such
little liberties are natural and proper and could justly offend no one.
But the situation was so new and so unusual that he needed a little time
to adapt his feelings to it, and forget his chagrin. This grandfather,
for whom he had paid five-hundred francs, whose ear he had broken, for
whom he had bought a burial-place in the Fontainebleau cemetery: this
ancestor younger than himself, whom he had seen drunk, whom he had found
agreeable, then dangerous, then insupportable: this venerable head of
the family who had begun by demanding Clementine's hand and ended by
pitching his future grandson into the heliotropes, could not all at once
obtain unmingled respect and unreserved affection.
M. and Mme. Renault exhorted their son to submission and deference. They
represented M. Fougas to him as a relative who ought to be treated with
consideration.
"A few days of patience!" said the good mother. "He will not stay with
us long; he is a soldier and can't live out of the army any better than
a fish out of water."
But Leon's parents, in the bottom of their hearts, held a bitter
remembrance of so many pangs and mortifications. Fougas had been the
scourge of the family; the wounds which he had made could not heal over
in a day. Even Gothon bore him ill will without confessing it. She
heaved great sighs while preparing for the wedding festivities at Mlle.
Sambucco's.
"Ah! my poor Celestin!" said she to her acolyte. "What a little rascal
of a grandfather we're going to have to be sure!"
The only person who was perfectly at ease was Fougas. He had passed the
sponge over his pranks; out of all the evil he had done, he retained no
ill will against any one. Very paternal with Clementine, very gracious
with M. and Mme. Renault, he evinced for Leon the most frank and cordial
friendship.
"My dear boy," said he to him, "I have studied you, I know you, and I
love you thoroughly; you deserve to be happy, and you shall be. You
shall soon see that in buying me for twenty-five napoleons, you didn't
make a bad bargain. If gratitude were banished from the universe, it
would find a last abiding place in the heart of Fougas!"
Three days before the marriage, M. Bonnivet informed the family that the
colonel had come into his office to ask for a conference about the
contract. He had scarcely cast his eyes on the sheet of stamped paper,
when Rrrrip! it was in pieces in the fireplace.
"Mister Note-scratcher," he said, "do me the honor of beginning your
_chef-d'oeuvre_ over again. The granddaughter of Fougas does not marry
with an annuity of eight thousand francs. Nature and Friendship give her
a million. Here it is!"
Thereupon he took from his pocket a bank check for a million, paced the
study proudly, making his boots creak, and threw a thousand-franc note
on a clerk's desk, crying in his clearest tones:
"Children of the Law! Here's something to drink the health of the
Emperor and the Grand Army with!"
The Renault family strongly remonstrated against this liberality.
Clementine, on being told of it by her intended, had a long discussion,
in the presence of Mlle. Sambucco, with the young and terrible
grandpapa; she tried to impress upon him that he was but twenty-four
years old, that he would be getting married some day, and that his
property belonged to his future family.
"I do not wish," said she, "that your children should accuse me of
having robbed them. Keep your millions for my little uncles and aunts!"
But for once, Fougas would not yield an inch.
"Are you mocking me?" he said to Clementine. "Do you think that I will
be guilty of the folly of marrying now? I do not promise you to live
like a monk of La Trappe, but at my age, a man put together like I am
can find enough to talk to around the garrisons without marrying
anybody. Mars does not borrow the torch of Hymen to light the little
aberrations of Venus! Why does man ever tie himself in matrimonial
bonds?... For the sake of being a father. I am one already, in the
comparative degree, and in a year, if our brave Leon does a man's part,
I shall assume the superlative. Great-grandfather! That's a lovely
position for a trooper twenty-five years old! At forty-five or fifty, I
shall be great-great-grandfather. At seventy ... the French language has
no more words to express what I shall become! But we can order one from
those babblers of the Academy! Are you afraid that I'll want for
anything in my old age? I have my pay, in the first place, and my
officer's cross. When I reach the years of Anchises or Nestor, I will
have my halt-pay. Add to all this the two hundred and fifty thousand
francs from the king of Prussia, and you shall see that I have not only
bread, but all essential fixings in the bargain, up to the close of my
career. Moreover, I have a perpetual grant, for which your husband has
paid in advance, in the Fontainebleau cemetery. With all these
possessions, and simple tastes, one is sure not to eat up one's
resources!"
Willing or unwilling, they had to concede all he required and accept his
million. This act of generosity made a great commotion in the town, and
the name of Fougas, already celebrated in so many ways, acquired a new
prestige. The signature of the bride was attested by the Marshal the
Duke of Solferino and the illustrious Karl Nibor, who but a few days
before had been elected to the Academy of Sciences. Leon modestly
retained the old friends whom he had long since chosen, M. Audret the
architect, and M. Bonnivet the notary.
The Mayor was brilliant in his new scarf. The _cure_ addressed to the
young couple an affecting allocution on the inexhaustible goodness of
Providence, which still occasionally performs a miracle for the benefit
of true Christians. Fougas, who had not discharged his religious duties
since 1801, soaked two handkerchiefs with tears.
"One must always part from those nearest the heart," said he on going
out of church. "But God and I are made to understand each other! After
all, what is God but a little more universal Napoleon!"
A Pantagruelic feast, presided over by Mlle. Virginie Sambucco in a
dress of puce-colored silk, followed immediately upon the marriage
ceremony. Twenty-four persons were present at this family _fete_, among
others the new colonel of the 23d and M. du Marnet, who was almost well
of his wound.
Fougas took up his napkin with a certain anxiety. He hoped that the
Marshal had brought his brevet as brigadier general. His expressive
countenance manifested lively disappointment at the empty plate.
The Duke of Solferino, who had been seated at the place of honor,
noticed this physiognomical display, and said aloud:
"Don't be impatient, my old comrade! I know what you miss; it was not my
fault that the _fete_ was not complete. The minister of war was out
when I dropped in on my way here. I was told however, at the department,
that your affair was kept in suspense by a technical question, but that
you would receive a letter from the office within twenty-four hours."
"Devil take the documents!" cried Fougas. "They've got them all, from my
birth-certificate, down to the copy of my brevet colonel's commission.
You'll find out that they want a certificate of vaccination or some such
six-penny shinplaster!"
"Oh! Patience, young man! You've time enough to wait. It's not such a
case as mine: without the Italian campaign, which gave me a chance to
snatch the baton, they would have slit my ear like a condemned horse,
under the empty pretext that I was sixty-five years old. You're not yet
twenty-five, and you're on the point of becoming a brigadier: the
Emperor promised it to you before me. In four or five years from now,
you'll have the gold stars, unless some bad luck interferes. After which
you'll need nothing but the command of an army and a successful campaign
to make you Marshal of France and Senator, which may nothing prevent!"
"Yes," responded Fougas; "I'll reach it. Not only because I am the
youngest of all the officers of my grade, and because I have been in the
mightiest of wars and followed the lessons of the master of Bellona's
fields, but above all because Destiny has marked me with her sign. Why
did the bullets spare me in more than twenty battles? Why have I sped
over oceans of steel and fire without my skin receiving a scratch? It is
because I have a star, as _He_ had. His was the grander, it is true, but
it went out at St. Helena, while mine is burning in Heaven still! If
Doctor Nibor resuscitated me with a few drops of warm water, it was
because my destiny was not yet accomplished. If the will of the French
people has re-established the imperial throne, it was to furnish me a
series of opportunities for my valor, during the conquest of Europe
which we are about to recommence! _Vive l'Empereur_, and me too! I shall
be duke or prince in less than ten years, and ... why not? One might try
to be at roll-call on the day when crowns are distributed! In that case,
I will adopt Clementine's oldest son: we will call him Pierre Victor
II., and he shall succeed me on the throne just as Louis XV. succeeded
his grandfather Louis XIV.!"
As he was finishing this wonderful speech, a _gendarme_ entered the
dining room, asked for Colonel Fougas, and handed him a letter from the
Minister of War.
"Gad!" cried the Marshal, "it would be pleasant to have your promotion
arrive at the end of such a discourse. For once, we would prostrate
ourselves before your star! The Magi kings would be nowhere compared
with us."
"Read it yourself," said he to the Marshal, holding out to him the
great sheet of paper. "But no! I have always looked Death in the face; I
will not turn my eyes away from this paper thunder if it is killing me.
"COLONEL:
"In preparing the Imperial decree which elevated you to
the rank of brigadier general, I found myself in the
presence of an insurmountable obstacle: viz., your
certificate of birth. It appears from that document that
you were born in 1789, and that you have already passed
your seventieth year. Now, the limit of age being fixed
at sixty years for colonels, sixty-two for brigadier
generals and sixty-five for generals of division, I find
myself under the absolute necessity of placing you upon
the retired list with the rank of colonel. I know,
Monsieur, how little this measure is justified by your
apparent age, and I sincerely regret that France should
be deprived of the services of a man of your capacity
and merit. Moreover, it is certain that an exception in
your favor would arouse no dissatisfaction in the army
and would meet with nothing but sympathetic approval.
But the law is express, and the Emperor himself cannot
violate or elude it. The impossibility resulting from it
is so absolute that if, in your ardor to serve the
country, you were willing to lay aside your epaulettes
for the sake of beginning upon a new career, your
enlistment could not be received in a single regiment of
the army. It is fortunate, Monsieur, that the Emperor's
government has been able to furnish you the means of
subsistence in obtaining from His Royal Highness the
Regent of Prussia the indemnity which was due you; for
there is not even an office in the civil administration
in which, even by special favor, a man seventy years old
could be placed. You will very justly object that the
laws and regulations now in force date from a period
when experiments on the revivification of men had not
yet met with favorable results. But the law is made for
the mass of mankind, and cannot take any account of
exceptions. Undoubtedly attention would be directed to
its amendment if cases of resuscitation were to present
themselves in sufficient number.
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