""Dear James, misfortune is either the greatest enemy or the greatest friend of men. There are people whom it makes wicked; there are others made better by it. For you, it must make you beloved by everybody; you must become so grateful, so affectionate, that when they wish to speak of any one who is good, they will say, good as the blind man of the Noiesemont. That will serve for a dowry to your daughter." This is the way he talked to me, sir: and it gave me heart to be unfortunate."
"Yes; but when he was not here?"
"Ah, when he was not here, I had, to be sure, some heavy moments. I thought of my eyes--the light is so beautiful! Oh, G.o.d! cried I, in anguish, if ever I should see clearly again, I would get up at three o"clock in the morning, and I would, not go to bed till ten at night, that I might gather up more light."
"James, James!" said his wife.
"You are right, Juliana; he has forbidden me to be sad. He would perceive it, sir. Do you think that when my head had gone wrong in the night, and he came in the morning, and merely looked at me, he would say--"James, you have been thinking that;" and then he would scold me, this dear friend. Yes," added he, with an expression of joy--"he would scold me, and that would give me pleasure, because he tried to make his words cross, but he could not do it."
"And what gave you the idea of becoming a water-carrier?"
"He gave me that, also. Do you suppose I have ideas? I began to lose my grief, but my time hung heavy on my hands. At thirty-two years old, to be sitting all day in a chair! He then began to instruct me, as he said, and he told me beautiful stories. The Bible--the history of an old man, blind like me, named Tobias; the history of Joseph; the history of David; the history of Jesus Christ. And then he made me repeat them after him. But my head, it was hard--it was hard; it was not used to learning, and I was always getting tired in my arms and my legs."
"And he tormented us to death," said his wife, laughing.
"True, true," replied he, laughing also; "I became cross. He came again, and said,
""James, you must go to work."
"I showed him my poor, burned hands.
""It is no matter; I have bought you a capital in trade."
""Me, Mr. Desgranges?"
""Yes, James, a capital into which they never put goods, and where they always find them."
""It must have cost you a great deal, sir."
""Nothing at all, my lad."
""What is then this fund?"
""The river."
""The river? Do you wish me to become a fisherman?"
""Not all; a water-carrier."
""Water-carrier! but eyes?"
""Eyes; of what use are they? do the dray-horses have eyes? If they do, they make use of them; if they do not, they do without them. Come, you must be a water-carrier."
""But a cask?"
""I will give you one."
""A cart?"
""I have ordered one at the cart-maker"s."
""But customers?"
"I will give you my custom, to begin with, eighteen francs a month; (my dear friend pays for water as dearly as for wine.) Moreover, you have nothing to say, either yes or no. I have dismissed my water-carrier, and you would not let my wife and me die with thirst. This dear Madame Desgranges, just think of it. And so, my boy, in three days--work. And you, Madam James, come here;" and he carried off Juliana."
"Yes, sir," continued the wife, "he carried me off, ordered leather straps, made me buy the wheels, harnessed me; we were all astonishment, James and I; but stop, if you can, when Mr. Desgranges drives you.
At the end of three days, here we are with the cask, he harnessed and drawing it, I behind, pushing; we were ashamed at crossing the village, as if we were doing something wrong; it seemed as if everybody would laugh at us. But Mr. Desgranges was there in the street.
""Come on, James," said he, "courage."
"We came along, and in the evening he put into our hands a piece of money, saying," continued the blind man, with emotion--
""James, here are twenty sous you have earned to-day."
"Earned, sir, think of that! earned, it was fifteen months that I had only eaten what had been given to me. It is good to receive from good people, it is true; but the bread that one earns, it is as we say, half corn, half barley; it nourishes better, and then it was done, I was no longer the woman, I was a labourer--a labourer--James earned his living."
A sort of pride shone from his face.
"How!" said the young man, "was your cask sufficient to support you?"
"Not alone, sir; but I have still another profession."
"Another profession!"
"Ha, ha, yes, sir; the river always runs, except when it is frozen, and, as Mr. Desgranges says, "water-carriers do not make their fortune with ice," so he gave me a Winter trade and Summer trade."
"Winter trade!"
Mr. Desgranges returned at this moment--James heard him--"Is it not true, Mr. Desgranges, that I have another trade besides that of water-carrier?"
"Undoubtedly."
"What is it then?"
"Wood-sawyer."
"Wood-sawyer? impossible; how could you measure the length of the sticks? how could you cut wood without cutting yourself?"
"Cut myself, sir," replied the blind man, with a pleasant shade of confidence; "I formerly was a woodsawyer, and the saw knows me well; and then one learns everything--I go to school, indeed. They put a pile of wood at my left side, my saw and saw horse before me, a stick that is to be sawed in three; I take a thread, I cut it the size of the third of the stick--this is the measure. Every place I saw, I try it, and so it goes on till now there is nothing burned or drunk in the village without calling upon me."
"Without mentioning," added Mr. Desgranges, "that he is a commissioner."
"A commissioner!" said the young man, still more surprised.
"Yes, sir, when there is an errand to be done at Melun, I put my little girl on my back, and then off I go. She sees for me, I walk for her; those who meet me, say, "Here is a gentleman who carries his eyes very high;" to which I answer, "that is so I may see the farther." And then at night I have twenty sous more to bring home."
"But are you not afraid of stumbling against the stones?"
"I lift my feet pretty high; and then I am used to it; I come from Noiesemont here all alone."