Part 11 (2/2)

If Bouchard were not so bored, he would not be very wretched, for he is very courageous, and he has a good temper. But he is terribly bored, in his gentle, uncomplaining fas.h.i.+on. He is too ill to talk or play games.

He cannot sleep; he can only contemplate the wall, and his own thoughts which creep slowly along it, like caterpillars.

In the morning, I bring a catheter with me, and when Bouchard's wounds are dressed, I apply it, for unfortunately, he can no longer perform certain functions independently.

Bouchard has crossed his hands behind the nape of his neck, and watches the process with a certain interest. I ask:

”Did I hurt you? Is it very unpleasant?”

Bouchard gives a melancholy smile and shakes his head:

”Oh, no, not at all! In fact it rather amuses me. It makes a few minutes pa.s.s. The day is so long....”

XXIII

THOUGHTS OF PROSPER RUFFIN

... G.o.d! How awful it is in this carriage! Who is it who is groaning like that? It's maddening! And then, all this would never have happened if they had only brought the coffee at the right time. Well now, a wretched 77... oh, no! Who is it who is groaning like that? G.o.d, another jolt! No, no, man, we are not salad. Take care there. My kidneys are all smashed.

Ah! now something is dripping on my nose. Hi! You up there, what's happening? He doesn't answer. I suppose it's blood, all this mess.

Now again, some one is beginning to squeal like a pig. By the way, can it be me? What! it was I who was groaning! Upon my word, it's a little too strong, that! It was I myself who was making all the row, and I did not know it. It's odd to hear oneself screaming.

Ah! now it's stopping, their beastly motor.

Look, there's the sun! What's that tree over there? I know, it's a j.a.panese pine. Well, you see, I'm a gardener, old chap. Oh, oh, oh! My back! What will Felicie say to me?

Look, there's Felicie coming down to the was.h.i.+ng trough. She pretends not to see me.... I will steal behind the elder hedge. Felicie! Felicie!

I have a piece of a 77 in my kidneys. I like her best in her blue bodice.

What are you putting over my nose, you people? It stinks horribly. I am choking, I tell you. Felicie, Felicie. Put on your blue bodice with the white spots, my little Feli... Oh, but... oh, but...!

Oh, the Whitsuntide bells already! G.o.d--the bells already... the Whitsun bells... the bells....

XXIV

I remember him very well, although he was not long with us. Indeed I think that I shall never forget him, and yet he stayed such a short time....

When he arrived, we told him that an operation was necessary, and he made a movement with his head, as if to say that it was our business, not his.

We operated, and as soon as he recovered consciousness, he went off again into a dream which was like a glorious delirium, silent and haughty.

His breathing was so impeded by blood that it sounded like groaning; but his eyes were full of a strange serenity. That look was never with us.

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