Mademoiselle Fifi
G >>
Guy de Maupassant >> Mademoiselle Fifi
Cornudet raised his voice:
--"War is barbarous when you attack a peaceful neighbor; it is a
sacred duty when waged in defense of one's country."
The old woman lowered her head.
--"Yes in self-defense, it is another matter, but shouldn't we
rather kill off all the Kings who go to war for their own pleasure?"
--Cornudet's eyes flashed:
--"Bravo, citoyenne[*]!" said he.
[*][Note from Brett: This translates, roughly, into "citizen"]
Mr. Carre-Lamadon was in deep meditation. Although a fanatical
admirer of illustrious generals, the common sense of that peasant
woman made him think of the opulence that would bring to a country
so many hands now idle and necessarily ruinous, so many forces
kept unproductive, if they were employed for the great industrial
enterprises which, at the present pace, it would take centuries to
complete.
But Loiseau, leaving his seat, went and spoke in a very low
voice to the inn-keeper. The fat man was laughing, coughing, and
expectorating. His enormous stomach shook with merriment at the
jokes of his neighbor, and he bought from him six casks of claret
to be delivered in the Spring, after the departure of the Prussians.
Hardly were they through with supper, they retired, as they were
all tired out.
Loiseau, however, who had kept an eye on what was going on, send
his wife to bed; then he pressed now his ear, now his eye to the
keyhole in order to try and discover what he called "the mysteries
of the hall."--
After about an hour, he heard a rustle, peeped out quickly and saw
Boule de Suif, who looked still more corpulent in a blue cashmere
dressing gown trimmed with white lace. She held a candle in her
hand and made straight for the room at the other end of the hall
bearing a conspicuous number. But a side-door opened, and when,
after a few minutes, she came back, Cornudet, in his shirt-sleeves
and suspenders, was following her. Boule de Suif seemed to deny
him energetically admission to her room. Unfortunately Loisseau
could not hear what they said, but in the end, as they raised their
voices, he was able to catch a few words. Cornudet was insisting
eagerly:
--"Come, now, you are silly! what does it matter to you?"--
She seemed indignant and replied:
--"No, my friend, there are times when we cannot do such things,
and why, here, it would be a shame!"
Apparently, he failed to understand and asked why.--Then she became
excited and speaking louder, she said:
--"Why? Don't you understand why? When Prussians are in the house,
maybe in the next room?" He had a newspaper which he unfolded on
his knees. A hussy who denied herself to the solicitations of a
man while they were near the enemy, must have aroused in his heart
his failing dignity, for, after having kissed her, he went back
stealthily to his room.
Loiseau, quite excited, left the keyhole, and quickly jumped into the
conjugal bed to seek solace near the hard carcass of his espoused.
Then the whole house became silent. But soon there arose from
somewhere, from some indeterminate direction, which might have
been the cellar as well as the attic, a powerful monotonous snore,
a deep and prolonged noise, like the throbbing of a boiler under
pressure--Mr. Follenvie was sleeping.
As it had been decided that they would start at eight o'clock the
next morning, at that hour everybody was in the kitchen; but the
coach, the hood of which formed a roof of snow, stood solitary
in the middle of the yard, without horses and without driver. In
vain a search was made for the latter in the stable, barns, and
coach-house. Then all the men decided to scour the country, and
they set out. They found themselves in the Square, with the Church
at the farther end, and on both sides low houses in which Prussian
soldiers could be seen. The first one they saw was peeling
potatoes; further on, the second was washing the barber's shop.
Another, bearded up to his eyes, was kissing a crying child and
lulling him on his knees to quiet it; fat peasant women, whose
husbands were "in the fighting army," were showing by the language
of signs to their obedient conquerors the work they had to do: chop
wood, prepare soup, grind coffee; one of them was even washing for
his hostess, an impotent grandmother.
The Count, surprised, questioned the beadle who was coming out of
the presbytery. The old Church rat replied:--"Oh, those here are
not bad; they are not Prussians, according to what I hear. They
come from farther off, I don't know exactly where; and they have
all left wives and children at home; they are not so fond of war,
I assure you; I am positive that over there they are mourning for
their men; and war will cause them much distress, as it does us.
Here at least we are not so badly off for the present, because the
soldiers don't harm us and they work as if they were in their own
houses. You see, Sir, we poor people, must help each other. It
is the wealthy ones who make war."
Cornudet, indignant at the cordial understanding established between
the conquerors and the conquered, went away, preferring to shut
himself up in the inn. Loiseau cracked a joke: "They are re-peopling
the country." Mr. Carre-Lamadon, more serious, interjected:--"They
are repairing." But they could not find the driver. Finally they
discovered him in the village Cafe, fraternizing and drinking with
the orderly of the Prussian Officer. The Count interpolated:
--"Didn't you have orders to have the coach ready for eight o'clock?"
--"Oh yes, but I have received other orders since."
--"What orders?"
--"Not to harness the horses at all."
--"Who gave you that order?"
--"Upon my faith, the Prussian Commander."
--"Why?"
--"I don't know. Go and ask him. I am forbidden to harness the
horses and I don't; that is all there is to it."
--"Did he tell you so himself?"
--"No. Sir, it is the inn-keeper that gave me the order for him."
--"When did he give it?"
--"Last night, just as I was going to bed!"
The three men became quite alarmed.
They called for Monsieur Follenvie, but the servant told them that
on account of his asthma, that gentleman never got up before ten
o'clock. He had even left formal orders not to wake him up earlier,
except in case of fire.
They wanted to see the officer, but it was absolutely impossible,
although he lodged in the inn. Mr. Follenvie only was authorized
to speak to him about civil matters. Then they waited. The women
went up to their rooms and got busy with their trifles.
Cornudet sat down and made himself comfortable in front of the high
fireplace of the kitchen, in which a big fire was blazing. He had
one of the small tables of the Cafe brought there, ordered a jug
of beer, and drew out his pipe which, among the democrats, enjoyed
a consideration almost equal to his own, as if it had served the
country in serving Cornudet. It was a superb meerschaum pipe,
admirably blackened, as black as its master's teeth, but fragrant,
nicely curved, shining, familiar to his hand, and completing his
physiognomy. And he remained still, his eyes fixed now on the
flame of the fire, now on the foam crowning his jug; and every
time, after he had drunk, he passed, with an air of satisfaction,
his thin, long fingers in his flowing greasy hair, while he sucked
his mustache fringed with foam.
Loiseau, under pretence of stretching his legs, went out to sell
wine to the dealers of the village. The Count and the manufacturer
began to talk politics. They were forecasting France's future. The
one kept faith in the Orleans dynasty, the other expected an unknown
savior, a hero who would rise up when everything was desperate:
a Duguseclin, a Jeanne d'Arc perhaps? or another Napoleon the
Great?--"Ah! if the Imperial Prince had not been so young!"--Cornudet
listening to their conversation, was smiling as a man who holds
the keys to destiny.--His pipe perfumed the whole kitchen.
As it was striking ten o'clock, Mr. Follenvie appeared. He was
immediately questioned, but he only repeated two or three times,
without any variation, the following words:--"The Officer told me
so!"--"Monsieur Follenvie, you will forbid the driver to harness
up the coach of these travelers to-morrow morning. I don't want
them to go without my order. You understand? That is enough!"
Then they wanted to see the Officer. The Count sent in his card
on which Mr. Carre-Lamadon added his own name and all his titles.
The Prussian sent word that the two men would be admitted to speak
to him after he had had his luncheon, that is to say about one
o'clock.
The ladies came down, and they all had a bite, in spite of their
anxiety. Boule de Suif seemed to be sick and prodigiously worried.
They were finishing their coffee, when the orderly came to call
the gentlemen. Loiseau joined the first two, but as they tried to
induce Cornudet to go with them in order to add more solemnity to
their application, he declared proudly that he expected not to have
any intercourse with the Germans; and he resumed his seat near the
fire-place, ordering another jug of beer.
The three men went up and were ushered into the finest room of the
inn, in which the Officer received them, stretched on an armchair,
his feet resting on the mantelpiece, and smoking a long porcelain
pipe, wrapped in a flamboyant dressing-robe, no doubt stolen from
the abandoned residence of some bourgeois lacking in taste. He did
not get up, neither did he greet them nor look at them. He was a
magnificent specimen of the insolence natural to victorious soldiers.
After a few seconds, he said in his defective French:
--"What do you want?"
The Count spoke:--"We wish to continue our journey, Sir."
--"No!"
--"May I inquire what is the reason for this refusal?"
--"Because I don't want."
--"I would respectfully call your attention to the fact, Sir, that
your General in chief has delivered us a permit to go to Dieppe,
and I don't think we did anything to deserve your rigors."
--"I don't want to let you go, that is all; you may retire!"
Having bowed, all three retired.
They spent a wretched afternoon. They could not in any way account
for this German's caprice, and the most singular ideas worried
their heads. Everybody stayed in the kitchen and there was endless
discussion imagining the most unlikely things. Perhaps they wanted
to hold them as hostages--but for what object?--or take them away
as prisoners? or, rather, demand from them a large ransom? at this
thought they became panic-stricken. The wealthiest were the most
alarmed, seeing themselves already compelled, in order to redeem
their lives, to pour bags of gold into the hands of this insolent
soldier. They racked their brains to find plausible and acceptable
lies, conceal their wealth, pass themselves off as very poor,
very poor. Loiseau took off his watch and chain and hid it in his
pocket. The approaching night filled them with apprehension.--The
lamp was lighted, and as they still had fully two hours before
dinner, Madame Loiseau proposed a game of "trente-et-un." That
would be a diversion. They accepted. Even Cornudet, having put
out his pipe, joined the party out of politeness.
The Count shuffled the cards and dealt; Boule de Suif had a full
thirty-one; and soon the interest in the game quieted the fears
that were haunting the minds. But Cornudet noticed that the Loiseau
couple had arranged to cheat.
As they were going to sit down to dinner, Mr. Follenvie reappeared,
and with his grating voice announced: "The Prussian Officer sends
me to ask Mlle. Elizabeth Rousset whether she has changed her mind?"
Boule de Suif stood still, pale as death. Then turning suddenly
crimson, she felt so suffocated by anger that she could not speak.
Finally she gasped out: "You will please tell that scoundrel, that
rascal, that carrion of a Prussian, that I shall never consent;
you understand, never, never, never!"
The fat inn-keeper went away. Then Boule de Suif was surrounded,
questioned, solicited by everybody to reveal the mystery of her
visit. First she resisted, but soon exasperation got the best of
her.--"What he wants?...what he wants?.... He wants me to keep
company with him," she exclaimed. Nobody was shocked by this
revelation, so great was their indignation. Cornudet broke his
jug as he banged it down on the table. There was a general clamor
of reprobation against the ignoble soldier, a waive of anger, a
combination of all for resistance as if each one of the party had
been called upon to make the sacrifice demanded of Boule de Suif.
The Count declared just like the barbarians in ancient times. The
women specially showed Boule de Suif an affectionate and energetic
commiseration. The good sisters who showed up only at meal time,
had bowed their heads and said nothing.
They dined however as soon as the first furor had abated, but they
spoke little.
The ladies retired early; and the men, while smoking, organized a
game of ecarte and invited Mr. Follenvie to join them, because they
wanted to question him skillfully as to the means to be used to
overcome the Officer's resistance. but he had his mind concentrated
on the cards; he did not hear anything, did not answer anything, and
kept on repeating: "Attend to the game, Gentlemen! attend to the
game!"--His attention was so tense that he even forgot to expectorate,
which produced at times a wheezing in his chest like the sounds of
an organ. His whistling lungs gave out every note of the asthmatic
scale from the deep and hollow tones up to the shrill crowing of
young roosters trying to sing.
He even refused to go up when his wife, overcome with sleep, came
to get him. Then she went away all alone, because she was an
early riser, getting up with the sun, whereas her husband kept late
hours, always ready to spend the night with friends. He called
to her:--"Put my eggnog near the fire!"--and continued the game.
When the travelers saw that they could not get anything out of
him, they announced that it was time to retire, and they all went
to bed.
They rose quite early again the next morning with a vague hope, a
greater desire to be able to proceed on their journey, and a dread
of having to spend another day in this wretched little inn. Alas!
the horses remained in the stable, the driver was invisible. Having
nothing better to do, they went and wandered around the coach.
Luncheon was very gloomy, and there had developed a general coolness
toward Boule de Suif, for night, which brings counsel, had somewhat
modified their judgment. They almost bore a grudge against the
girl for not having surreptitiously gone to the Prussian Officer
to afford a pleasant surprise to her companions when they awoke.
Nothing more simple! Beside, who would have suspected it? She
might have saved appearances by having the Officer say that he had
taken pity on their distress. To her it would have been of little
consequence.
But nobody as yet gave expression to such thoughts.
In the afternoon, as they were bored to death, the Count proposed
to take a walk around the village. Each one wrapped himself
up carefully and the small company set off, with the exception of
Cornudet, who preferred to remain by the fire, and the good Nuns
who spent their days in Church or at the Parish house.
The cold, growing daily more and more intense, bit mercilessly
the nose and ears of the strollers; their feet pained them so much
that each step was a torture; and when the country opened up before
them, it looked so frightfully dismal under the boundless sheet
of white, that they all retraced their steps hastily, with souls
frozen and hearts heavy.
The four women walked in front and the three men followed them a
little behind.
Loiseau, who understood the situation very clearly, inquired suddenly
whether that "wench" was going to keep them much longer in such a
place. The Count, always courteous, realized that they could not
expect such a painful sacrifice from a woman, and that the offer
should originate from her. Monsieur Carre-Lamadon remarked that
if the French undertook, as it was rumored, a counter-offensive
by way of Dieppe, the battle would certainly be fought in Totes.
This remark made the other two quite anxious--"How about trying
to escape on foot?" suggested Loiseau. The Count shrugged his
shoulders:--"That is out of the question in this snow, and with
our wives! And furthermore we would be pursued immediately, caught
in ten minutes and brought back as prisoners, at the mercy of the
soldiers"--That was true. There was silence again.
The ladies talked toilette, but a certain constraint seemed to
separate them.
Suddenly the Officer appeared at the end of the street. On the snow
that bound the horizon, his tall and wasp-like uniformed figure
outlined itself; he walked, knees apart, with that motion particular
to soldiers who are anxious not to soil their carefully polished
boots.
He bowed as he passed the ladies, and looked scornfully at the
men who, it must be said to their credit, had enough dignity not
to raise their hats, although Loiseau made a move to take off his
headgear.
Boule de Suif blushed red to her ears, and the three married women
felt greatly humiliated to have been met by the Officer while they
were in the company of this girl whom he had treated so unceremoniously.
Then they spoke of him, of his figure and his face. Madame
Carre-Lamadon, who had known many officers and who judged them as
a connoisseur, found that this one was not so bad looking after
all; she even regretted that he was not French, because he would
have made a very handsome husband with whom all the women would
have fallen in love.
Once back in the inn, they did not know what to do with themselves.
Even acrid words were exchanged about insignificant matters. The
silent dinner did not last long and each went upstairs to bed, in
the hope of sleeping the time away.
The next morning they came down with tired faces and exasperated
tempers. The women hardly spoke to Boule de Suif.
A Church bell began to ring; it was for a baptism. Boule de Suif
had a child being brought up by peasants in Yvetot. She did not
see it even once a year and never gave it a thought; but the idea
of the one that was going to be baptized developed a sudden and
violent tenderness for her own and she insisted absolutely on going
to the ceremony.
As soon as she was gone, those who remained looked at each other,
and drew their chairs closer, for they felt that in the end they had
to take some decision.--Loiseau had an inspiration: he suggested
that they should propose to the officer to keep Boule de Suif only
and let the others go.
Mr. Follenvie undertook again to convey the message, but he came
down almost immediately. The German, who knew human nature, had
kicked him out of his room. He meant to keep everybody as long as
his wishes had not been complied with.
Then the vulgar temper of Madame Loiseau broke loose:--"And yet
we are not going to die of old age here! Since it is that vixen's
trade to carry it on with all men, I think that she has no right to
refuse one rather than another. Imagine, she has taken all that
she found in Rouen, even coachmen, yes, Madame, the coachman of
the Prefecture; I know it for a fact, because he buys his wine of
us. And now that it is a question of getting us out of trouble,
she is putting on virtuous airs, the drab! I find that the Officer
behaves very well. Possibly he may have abstained for a long time,
and here we are three of us whom he certainly would have preferred.
But no, he is satisfied with the girl who is public property. He
respects married women. Think of it, he is the master here. All
that he had to do was to say: 'I want' and he might have taken us
by force, with the aid of his soldiers."
The two other women shuddered slightly. The eyes of pretty Madame
Carre-Lamadon sparkled, and she grew a little pale as if she felt
herself already taken by force by the officer.
The men who were arguing among themselves, came near them. Loiseau,
excited, wanted to deliver up that "miserable woman," bound
hand and foot, to the enemy. But the Count, descended from three
generations of Ambassadors, and endowed with the physique of a
diplomat, was advocating more tactfulness and persuasion--"We should
persuade her"--said he.
Then they conspired.
The women drew close to each other; the tone of their voices was
lowered, and the discussion became general, each giving her opinion.
It was most correct, besides. The ladies specially found delicate
euphemisms, charming subtleties of expression to say the most
shocking things. A stranger would have understood nothing, so well
were the precautions of language observed. But as the thin veneer
of pudor[*], with which every Society woman is provided, covers
only the surface, they showed their real selves in this wretched
adventure, and were as a matter of fact enjoying themselves
immensely, feeling themselves in their element, handling love with
the sensuousness of a gourmand cook who prepares supper for somebody
else.
[*][Note from Brett: I think this is an excellent, though unintentional,
pun. "Pudor" is Spanish for "shame," but this meaning makes the
sentence difficult to read (at best), although it does convey the
intent. I think that the word intended is "powder," but left the
original in case I am wrong]
Their gaiety came back of itself, so amusing after all did the whole
incident seem to them. The Count found rather risky witticisms,
but so cleverly told that they provoked smiles. In his turn Loiseau
fired some broader jokes, which did not shock the listeners; and
the thought brutally expressed by his wife preponderated in every
one's mind: "Since it is her business, why should the girl refuse
this man rather than another?"--The pretty Mme. Carre-Lamadon seemed
even inclined to think that in her place she would refuse this one
less than any other.
The blockade was carefully prepared, as if they were besieging
a fortress. Each agreed to play the part assigned to him or her,
the arguments to be used, the maneuvers to be executed. They decided
on the plan of attack, the stratagems and the surprise assault to
be attempted in order to compel this living citadel to receive the
enemy.
Cornudet, however, remained apart, completely unwilling to participate
in this plot.
The minds were so tensely absorbed in this scheme that nobody
heard Boule de Suif coming in. But the Count whispered a gentle:
"Hush!" which caused all eyes to look up. There she stood. There
was a sudden silence and a certain embarrassment prevented them
first from speaking to her. The Countess having more than the
others the habit of drawing-room duplicities, questioned her:--"Was
the baptism interesting?--"
The girl, still laboring under her emotion, told everything,
described the faces, the attitudes, and even the appearance of the
Church. She added:--"It does one so much good to pray sometimes!--"
However, until lunch time the ladies confined themselves to being
nice to her with a view to make her feel more confident and amenable
to their advances.
As soon as they sat down to luncheon, the preliminary attack was
initiated. It was at first a vague discussion about self-sacrifice.
They quoted instances from ancient History, such as Judith and
Holophern, then, without any reason Lucretia with Sextus, Cleopatra
who admitted to her intimacy all the enemy generals and reduced
them to slavish servility. Then a fancy History was propounded,
originating in the imagination of those ignorant millionaires, and
according to which Roman matrons used to go to Capua and lull Hannibal
in their arms, and with him, his lieutenants and the phalanxes
of his mercenaries. They quoted all the women who had stopped
conquerors, converted their bodies into battlefields, a means of
conquest, a weapon, who by their heroic caresses had vanquished
frightful and execrated beings, and had sacrificed their chastity
to vengeance and patriotic devotion.
They even spoke, in veiled terms, of that English lady of noble
family, who had allowed herself to be inoculated with a horrid and
contagious disease, which she wanted to communicate to Bonaparte,
and how the latter had been miraculously saved by a sudden faintness
during the fatal appointment.
And all this was told without overstepping the bounds of propriety
and moderation, with her and there a studied manifestation of
enthusiasm intended to provoke emulation.
In the end one would have been led to believe that the only mission
of woman on this earth was a perpetual sacrifice of her person, a
continual offering of herself to the caprices of enemy soldiers.
The two nuns did not seem to hear this conversation, lost as they
were in their own deep thoughts. Boule de Suif was silent.
The whole afternoon she was left to herself. But instead of
calling her "Madame" as they had done so far, they addressed her
as mademoiselle, nobody knew why, as if they wanted to lower her
one step in their esteem, which she had escaladed, and make her
feel her shameful situation.