the lawyer's house looked on to the square. behind it, there was a nice, well-kept garden, extending to the passage des piques, which was almost always deserted, and from which it was separated by a wall.
at the bottom of that garden ma?tre moreau's wife had promised, for the first time, to meet captain sommerive, who had been making love to her for a long time.
her husband had gone to paris for a week, so she was quite free for the time being. the captain had begged so hard, and had used such loving words; she was certain that he loved her so ardently, and she felt so isolated, so misunderstood, so neglected amid all the law business which seemed to be her husband's sole pleasure, that she had given away her heart without even asking herself whether she would give anything else some day.
then, after some months of platonic love, of pressing of hands, of quick kisses stolen behind a door, the captain had declared that he would ask permission to exchange, and leave the town immediately, if she would not grant him a meeting, a real meeting in the shadow of the trees, during her husband's absence. so she had yielded to his importunity, as she had promised.
just then she was waiting, close against the wall, with a beating heart, trembling at the slightest sound, and when she heard somebody climbing up the wall, she very nearly ran away.
suppose it were not he, but a thief? but no; some one called out softly, "mathilde!" and when she replied, "étienne!" a man jumped on to the path with a crash.
it was he! what a kiss!
for a long time they remained in each other's arms, with united lips. but suddenly a fine rain began to fall, and the drops from the leaves fell on to her neck and made her start. whereupon he said:
"mathilde, my adored one, my darling, my angel, let us go indoors. it is twelve o'clock, we can have nothing to fear; please let us go in."
"no, dearest; i am too frightened. who knows what might happen?"
but he held her in his arms, and whispered in her ear:
"your servants sleep on the third floor, looking on to the square, and your room, on the first, looks on to the garden, so nobody can hear us. i love you so that i wish to love you entirely, from head to foot." and he embraced her vehemently, maddening her with his kisses.
she resisted still, frightened and even ashamed. but he put his arms round her, lifted her up, and carried her off through the rain, which was by this time descending in torrents.
the door was open; they groped their way upstairs; and when they were in the room she bolted the door while he lit a match.
then she fell, half fainting, into a chair, while he kneeled down beside her and slowly he undressed her, beginning with her shoes and stockings in order to kiss her feet.
at last, she said, panting:
"no! no! étienne, please let me remain a virtuous woman; i should be too angry with you afterwards; and after all, it is so horrid, so common. cannot we love each other with a spiritual love only? oh! étienne!"
with the skill of a lady's maid and the speed of a man in a hurry, he unbuttoned, untied, unhooked and unlaced without stopping, and when she tried to get up and run away, she suddenly emerged from her dress, her petticoat and her underclothes as naked as a hand thrust from a muff. in her fright she ran to the bed in order to hide herself behind the curtains; but it was a dangerous place of refuge, and he followed her. but in haste he took off his sword too quickly, and it fell on to the floor with a crash. and then a prolonged, shrill child's cry came from the next room, the door of which had remained open.
"you have awakened andré," she whispered, "and he won't be able to go to sleep again."
her son was only fifteen months old and slept in a room opening out of hers, so that she might be able to watch over him all the time.
the captain exclaimed ardently:
"what does it matter, mathilde? how i love you; you must come to me, mathilde."
but she struggled and resisted in her fright.
"no! no! just listen how he is crying; he will wake up the nurse, and what should we do if she were to come? we should be lost. just listen to me, étienne. when he screams at night his father always takes him into our bed, and he is quiet immediately; it is the only means of keeping him still. do let me take him."
the child roared, uttering shrill screams, which pierced the thickest walls and could be heard by passers-by in the streets.
in his consternation the captain got up, and mathilde jumped out and took the child into her bed, when he was quiet at once.
étienne sat astride on a chair, and rolled a cigarette, and in about five minutes andré went to sleep again.
"i will take him back," his mother said; and she took him back very carefully to his cradle.
when she returned, the captain was waiting for her with open arms, and put his arms round her in a transport of love, while she, embracing him more closely, said, stammering:
"oh! étienne, my darling, if you only knew how i love you; how—"
andré began to cry again, and he, in a rage, exclaimed:
"confound it all, won't the little brat be quiet?"
no, the little brat would not be quiet, but howled all the louder, on the contrary.
she thought she heard a noise downstairs; no doubt the nurse was coming, so she jumped up and took the child into bed, and he grew quiet directly.
three times she put him back, and three times she had to fetch him again, and an hour before daybreak the captain had to go, swearing like the proverbial trooper; and, to calm his impatience, mathilde promised to receive him again the next night. of course he came, more impatient and ardent than ever, excited by the delay.
he took care to lay his sword carefully on the arms of a chair, he took off his boots like a thief, and spoke so low that mathilde could hardly hear him. at last, he was just going to be really happy when the floor, or some piece of furniture, or perhaps the bed itself, creaked; it sounded as if something had broken; and in a moment a cry, feeble at first, but which grew louder, every moment, made itself heard. andré was awake again.
he yapped like a fox, and there was not the slightest doubt that if he went on like that the whole house would awake; so his mother, not knowing what to do, got up and brought him. the captain was more furious than ever, but did not move, and very carefully he put out his hand, took a small piece of the child's flesh between his two fingers, no matter where it was, the thighs or elsewhere, and pinched it. the little one struggled and screamed in a deafening manner, but his tormentor pinched everywhere, furiously and more vigorously. he took a piece of flesh and twisted and turned it, and then let go, only to take hold of another piece, and then another and another.
the child screamed like a chicken having its throat cut, or a dog being mercilessly beaten. his mother caressed him, kissed him, and tried to stifle his cries by her tenderness; but andré grew purple, as if he were going into convulsions, and kicked and struggled with his little arms and legs in an alarming manner.
the captain said, softly:
"try to take him back to his cradle; perhaps he will be quiet."
and mathilde went into the other room with the child in her arms. as soon as he was out of his mother's bed he cried less loudly, and when he was in his own he was quiet, with the exception of a few broken sobs. the rest of the night was quiet and the captain was happy.
the next night the captain came again. as he happened to speak rather loudly, andré awoke again and began to scream. his mother went and fetched him immediately, but the captain pinched so hard and long that the child was nearly suffocated by its cries, its eyes turned in its head and it foamed at the mouth. as soon as it was back in its cradle it was quiet, and in four days andré did not cry any more to come into his mother's bed.
on saturday evening the lawyer returned, and took his place again at the domestic hearth and in the conjugal chamber. as he was tired with his journey he went to bed early; but he had not long lain down when he said to his wife:
"why, how is it that andré is not crying? just go and fetch him, mathilde; i like to feel that he is between us."
she got up and brought the child, but as soon as he saw that he was in that bed, in which he had been so fond of sleeping a few days before, he wriggled and screamed so violently in his fright that she had to take him back to his cradle.
m. moreau could not get over his surprise. "what a very funny thing! what is the matter with him this evening? i suppose he is sleepy?"
"he has been like that all the time that you were away; i have never been able to have him in bed with me once."
in the morning the child woke up and began to laugh and play with his toys.
the lawyer, who was an affectionate man, got up, kissed his offspring, and took him into his arms to carry him to their bed. andré laughed, with that vacant laugh of little creatures whose ideas are still vague. he suddenly saw the bed and his mother in it, and his happy little face puckered up, till suddenly he began to scream furiously, and struggled as if he were going to be put to the torture.
in his astonishment his father said:
"there must be something the matter with the child," and mechanically he lifted up his little nightshirt.
he uttered a prolonged "o—o—h!" of astonishment. the child's calves, thighs, and buttocks were covered with blue spots as big as half-pennies.
"just look, mathilde!" the father exclaimed; "this is horrible!" and the mother rushed forward in a fright. it was horrible; no doubt the beginning of some sort of leprosy, of one of those strange affections of the skin which doctors are often at a loss to account for. the parents looked at one another in consternation.
"we must send for the doctor," the father said.
but mathilde, pale as death, was looking at her child, who was spotted like a leopard. then suddenly uttering a violent cry as if she had seen something that filled her with horror, she exclaimed:
"oh! the wretch!"
m. moreau, surprised asked: "what? whom are you speaking about? what wretch?"
she reddened up to the roots of her hair and stammered: "nothing... it is... you see, i guess... it must be... don't let us get the doctor. it is surely that miserable nurse who pinches the little one to make him stop when he cries." the notary, very angry, went to the nurse and nearly beat her. she denied the charges, but was discharged. her conduct was denounced to the municipal authorities, and she could never get another situation.
