Part 19 (1/2)

Autumn Glory Rene Bazin 37420K 2022-07-22

Toussaint Lumineau foresaw danger.

”It is bad enough that your brother should be going to La Seuliere,”

said he. ”But for you, my poor boy, on no account would it do to go to their dance. It is cold out of doors. Do not go further than the duck meadow, and come back quickly.” He followed with his eyes the cripple, who, in great haste, with the unnatural energy given him by emotion, raised himself on his crutches, hobbled the length of the table, down the steps, and following Andre, was lost in the night.

His sons had gone; an icy wind blew in at the wide open door. Alas!

how difficult it had become to govern the household! Sitting on the bench, his head on his arm, looking out into the dark farmyard, the old man pondered the things he had heard that night, and his powerlessness, despite his great love and long experience, to make himself obeyed, now that interest was lessening in the work of the old farmstead.

But it was not long before he called to his daughter, busy at her work of was.h.i.+ng up; the least word was such a relief in the empty rooms!

”Rousille!”

The girl opened the connecting door, and came, drying the plate in her hands without looking at him.

”I am afraid that Mathurin may go back to see her----”

”Oh, father, he would not do that. Besides, he cannot have his shoes, and he dare not appear at La Seuliere” ... stooping, she searched under Mathurin's bed, then in the chest, then said as she rose:

”Yes. He has taken them ... he must have put them on beforehand ...

the first sound of the horn came at six o'clock.”

The old father began pacing the room with great strides, stopping uneasily from minute to minute to listen for the sound of crutches on the gravel that should announce Mathurin's return.

CHAPTER XI.

THE DANCE AT LA SEULIeRE.

Toussaint Lumineau's uneasiness was well founded. His two sons had gone down to the meadow, where the d.y.k.e, widening, served as a drinking place for the animals on the farm, and as a harbour for the two punts belonging to it.

There Andre had offered no resistance when Mathurin had said:

”Take me. I want to see Felicite.” Venturesome, imprudent in things concerning himself, soldier of but yesterday, still impregnated with barrack maxims, he had merely said:

”There's not a shadow of sense in it; but if it amuses you!”

And he had chosen the best of the boats, and helped the cripple to stretch himself in the prow; then, standing on the raised part in the stern, and taking up the pole, had begun to punt, now pressing the iron point into the bed of the d.y.k.e, now into the bank on either side.

Soon they were far out in the middle of the Marais, the night intensely cold with no moon. Clouds were chasing each other towards the sea; and yet it was not one unbroken darkness; up above in the grey firmament were lighter trails, clear patches constantly broken and effaced by s.h.i.+fting clouds reflected in their pa.s.sage on the surface of the waters, not only of the d.y.k.es, but of the submerged meadows which had been changed into a series of lakes by winter rains, and above which the sloping embankments were scarcely perceptible.

Every light was multiplied. The darkness had eddies of light, which enabled Andre to keep a right course.

The punt followed the ca.n.a.ls, cut at right angles; progress was slow, impeded by ice needles, that formed by the cold cl.u.s.tered on the sedges of the bank. Did the wind not rise, the whole Marais would be one sheet of ice before morning; Andre knew this, and tried to reach La Seuliere as quickly as possible. He began to realise the imprudence he had committed in taking Mathurin with him on such a night and so far. The cripple neither moved nor spoke, anxious not to attract his brother's attention to himself, lest he should straightway turn back.

But when he saw that they were more than two thousand yards from La Fromentiere, sure of reaching their destination, he broke the silence.

Lying on his back, his face hidden by the side of the boat, he asked:

”Driot, when you were speaking to-night of land being given to agricultural emigrants, you were not joking?”

”Of course not.”