Paul and His Dog

Chapter 88

"Do you think so? And a scornful mouth?"

"Oh, no! his smile is very agreeable."

"What! did he smile while he was talking to us?"

"When I slipped and almost fell, I clung to him, and that made him smile."

"It"s strange; I remember nothing of all that."



"Oh! the storm was so violent!--Well, I am sure, for my part, that it makes Madame Droguet furious to see we already know that gentleman, who has refused to have anything to do with anyone in the neighborhood!

Just for that reason, I am delighted that she saw him bringing us home."

The conversation of the two friends was interrupted by sobs from Poucette, who tried in vain to check them. They rose at once to inquire the cause of their servant"s grief.

VII

A SALE BY AUTHORITY OF LAW

Little Claudine, Poucette"s cousin, had just arrived; her eyes were red, and she too was crying; evidently it was something that she had told Poucette which caused the young peasant to sob so bitterly.

"What is the matter, my child; what makes you so unhappy?" Madame Dalmont asked her servant.

But she, according to the custom of country people, continued to sob and made no reply.

"And you, my girl," said Agathe to Claudine, "you are crying too; is it something you have told your cousin that is making her cry?"

"Yes--yes--mamzelle."

"What misfortune has come upon you? Come, speak."

"Ye--Ye--yes, madame!"

"Come, Poucette, tell us about it; this child will never be able to, you see."

The young peasant succeeded at last in forcing back her sobs.

"Madame, Claudine has just told me that they"re very unhappy at home. My poor uncle--poor aunt! what is going to become of them! They"re going to sell everything in their home to-day, furniture and everything! Mon Dieu! mon Dieu! and turn them out of their cottage, which won"t belong to them any more! What is going to become of them! Here, Claudine, I"ve got three francs left out of my wages, and I"ll give "em to you. Oh! if I had more!"

"You can"t have any more, when you give us all you earn!"

"Poor people! why this is frightful!" cried Honorine. "Who on earth is so hard-hearted as to despoil those unfortunate creatures, who have hardly enough to provide their children with food and shelter?"

"Who? Alas! madame, it"s Monsieur Jarnouillard; he has lent small sums to Uncle Guillot at different times. Well! it was a hard winter, and he had four children to take care of, and me too with the rest. It seems that Monsieur Jarnouillard made my uncle sign some bits of paper, so, if he wasn"t paid just on the minute, he could take everything my poor uncle owned!"

"And as papa couldn"t pay him, although he had given him some money on account," added Claudine, "a man all dressed in black came to-day and told mamma that all she could do was to leave the house with the children, but she didn"t have any right to take anything away."

"Oh! what a wretch that Monsieur Jarnouillard is!" cried Agathe, "he does well not to show his face here, for we would put him out of doors, we wouldn"t have him in the house. And these are the people that say unkind things about us, who would be so distressed to cause pain to anyone! Madame Droguet"s society contains some most estimable people!"

While Agathe made these reflections, Honorine had gone up hastily to her room; she returned with her bonnet on her head, and said to Agathe:

"Come with me."

"Where are we going, my dear?"

"Mon Dieu! to Guillot"s cottage, to see if there is any way of a.s.sisting those poor people, and at the very least to save some of their furniture. I have a hundred francs I can give them; it"s very little, but still it will help them."

"Oh! my good Honorine, if it were possible, I would love you even more."

The two friends left the house, followed by Poucette and Claudine, who had ceased to weep because they hoped and divined that the ladies proposed to a.s.sist their dear ones.

In due time they reached the farmer"s cottage, where a number of people had already collected. For the announcement of a sale on execution always brings together a mult.i.tude of bargain-hunters and idlers.

A melancholy spectacle was presented to that a.s.semblage, which would have touched their hearts, had there been any persons susceptible to emotion among those who were disputing over the purchase of an old chair.

Guillot"s wife sat at the foot of a tree, about forty yards from the house, holding her last-born child at her breast, while the two others stood at her side, hiding their faces against their mother"s skirts as if terrified by the sight of all those people. The peasant gazed with tear-dimmed eyes at her hovel and at all the poor furniture that was brought from it, to be offered for sale; then she turned her eyes on her children, and her glance said plainly:

"We have no roof to shelter us; where will they sleep to-night?"

A short distance away, the farmer himself, in despair but striving to retain his courage, watched the officers of the law who had taken their places at a table, and were preparing to begin the sale.

Monsieur Jarnouillard walked about, examining the different articles as they were brought from the house, and muttering with a shrug:

"Mon Dieu! what wretched stuff! I shall never get my money back. The wood is rotten; it will crumble to powder!"

Meanwhile Guillot approached his creditor, hat in hand, and said to him in a suppliant tone:

"Oh! monsieur, are you going to sell my house, too?"

"His house! that"s a pretty name for it! He calls this a house--a miserable hovel that will hardly hold together!"

"Such as it is, monsieur, it has sheltered me and my family; it came to me from my father, too, and I was fond of it."

"What difference does all that make to me? It would have been better for me if it had come from the devil and had been built of hewn stone.

n.o.body"ll give anything for your hut."

"If you don"t think anybody"ll give anything for it, monsieur, why do you have it sold?"

"Why? and what about the money you owe me? do you imagine I shall get it back from the sale of your furniture? Nice stuff, that is! You have taken me in, my good man; I am sold, trapped is the word."

On hearing this accusation from the mouth of the man who was robbing him, the farmer proudly raised his head and replied in a firm voice:

"I have never deceived anybody, monsieur! I am an honest man, and everybody in the neighborhood knows it; and if either of us has cheated the other I am not the one, do you understand?"

The usurer lowered his crest and his tone, as such men always do when they are afraid of being unmasked.

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