One of the boating men made a martyr of himself and took the mother.
"Let us go to the little wood on the _Ile aux Anglias_!" he called out, as he rowed off. The other skiff went slower, for the rower was looking at his companion so intently, that he thought of nothing else, and his emotion paralyzed his strength, while the girl, who was sitting on the steerer"s seat, gave herself up to the enjoyment of being on the water.
She felt disinclined to think, felt a la.s.situde in her limbs, and a total abandonment of herself, as if she were intoxicated, and she had become very flushed, and breathed shortly. The effects of the wine, which were increased by the extreme heat, made all the trees on the bank seem to bow, as she pa.s.sed. A vague wish for enjoyment and a fermentation for her blood, seemed to pervade her whole body, which was excited by the heat of the day; and she was also agitated by this _tete-a-tete_ on the water, in a place which seemed depopulated by the heat, with this young man who thought her pretty, whose looks seemed to caress her skin, and whose looks were as penetrating and pervading as the sun"s rays.
Their inability to speak, increased their emotion, and they looked about them, but at last he made an effort and asked her name.
"Henriette," she said.
"Why! My name is Henri," he replied. The sound of their voices had calmed them, and they looked at the banks. The other skiff had pa.s.sed them, and seemed to be waiting for them, and the rower called out:
"We will meet you in the wood; we are going as far as _Robinson"s_[13]
because Madame Dufour is thirsty." Then he bent over his oars again, and rowed off so quickly that he was soon out of sight.
[Footnote 13: A well-known restaurant on the banks of the Seine, which is much frequented by the middle cla.s.ses.--TRANSLATOR.]
Meanwhile, a continual roar, which they had heard for some time, came nearer, and the river itself seemed to shiver, as if the dull noise were rising from its depths.
"What is that noise?" she asked. It was the noise of the weir, which cut the river in two, at the island, and he was explaining it to her, when above the noise of the waterfall, they heard the song of a bird, which seemed a long way off.
"Listen!" he said; "the nightingales are singing during the day, so the females must be sitting."
A nightingale! She had never heard one before, and the idea of listening to one roused visions of poetic tenderness in her heart. A nightingale!
That is to say, the invisible witness of her lovers" interview which Juliette invoked on her balcony[14]; the celestial music, which is attuned to human kisses, that eternal inspirer of all those languorous romances which open an ideal sky to all the poor little tender hearts of sensitive girls!
[Footnote 14: Romeo and Juliet, Act III, Scene V.]
She was going to hear a nightingale.
"We must not make a noise," her companion said, "and then we can go into the wood, and sit down close to it."
The skiff seemed to glide. They saw the trees on the island, whose banks were so low, that they could look into the depths of the thickets. They stopped, he made the boat fast, Henriette took hold of Henri"s arm, and they went beneath the trees.
"Stop," he said, so she bent down, and they went into an inextricable thicket of creepers, leaves, and reed-gra.s.s, which formed an inpenetrable asylum, and which the young man laughingly called, "his private room."
Just above their heads, perched in one of the trees which hid them, the bird was still singing. He uttered shakes and roulades, and then long, vibrating sounds that filled the air, and seemed to lose themselves on the horizon, across the level country, through that burning silence which weighed upon the whole country round. They did not speak for fear of frightening it away. They were sitting close together, and slowly Henri"s arm stole round the girl"s waist and squeezed it gently. She took that daring hand without any anger, and kept removing it whenever he put it round her; without, however, feeling at all embarra.s.sed by this caress, just as if it had been something quite natural, which she was resisting just as naturally.
She was listening to the bird in ecstasy. She felt an infinite longing for happiness, for some sudden demonstration of tenderness, for the revelation of super-human poetry, and she felt such a softening at her heart, and relaxation of her nerves, that she began to cry, without knowing why, and now the young man was straining her close to him, and she did not remove his arm; she did not think of it. Suddenly the nightingale stopped, and a voice called out in the distance:
"Henriette!"
"Do not reply," he said in a low voice; "you will drive the bird away."
But she had no idea of doing so, and they remained in the same position for some time. Madame Dufour had sat down somewhere or other, for from time to time they heard the stout lady break out into little bursts of laughter.
The girl was still crying; she was filled with strange sensations.
Henri"s head was on her shoulder, and suddenly he kissed her on the lips. She was surprised and angry, and, to avoid him, she stood up.
They were both very pale, when they quitted their gra.s.sy retreat. The blue sky looked dull to them, and the ardent sun was clouded over to their eyes, but they perceived not the solitude and silence. They walked quickly side by side, without speaking or touching each other, for they appeared to be irreconcilable enemies, as if disgust had sprung up between them, and hatred between their souls, and from time to time Henriette called out: "Mamma!"
By-and-bye they heard a noise in a thicket, and the stout lady appeared looking rather confused, and her companion"s face was wrinkled with smiles which he could not check.
Madame Dufour took his arm, and they returned to the boats, and Henri, who was going on first, still without speaking, by the girl"s side, and at last they got back to Bezons. Monsieur Dufour, who had got sober, was waiting for them very impatiently, while the young man with the yellow hair, was having a mouthful of something to eat, before leaving the inn.
The carriage was in the yard, with the horse in, and the grandmother, who had already got in, was very frightened at the thought of being overtaken by night, before they got back to Paris, as the outskirts were not safe.
They shook hands, and the Dufour family drove off.
"Good-bye, until we meet again!" the oarsman cried, and the answer they got was a sigh and a tear.
Two months later, as Henri was going along the _Rue des Martyrs_, he saw _Dufour, Ironmonger_ over a door, and so he went in, and saw the stout lady sitting at the counter. They recognized each other immediately, and after an interchange of polite greetings, he asked after them all.
"And how is Mademoiselle Henriette?" he inquired, specially.
"Very well, thank you; she is married."
"Ah!" ... But mastering his feelings, he added: "Whom was she married to?"
"To that young man who went with us, you know, he has joined us in business."
"I remember him, perfectly."
He was going out, feeling very unhappy, though scarcely knowing why, when Madame called him back.
"And how is your friend?" she asked, rather shyly.
"He is very well, thank you."
"Please give him our compliments, and beg him to come and call, when he is in the neighborhood."
She then added: "Tell him it will give me great pleasure."
"I will be sure to do so. Adieu!"
"I will not say that; come again, very soon."
The next year, one very hot Sunday, all the details of that adventure which he had never forgotten, suddenly came back to him so clearly, that he returned to their room in the wood, and he was overwhelmed with astonishment when he went in. She was sitting on the gra.s.s, looking very sad, while by her side, again in his shirt sleeves the young man with the yellow hair was sleeping soundly, like some brute.
She grew so pale when she saw Henri, that at first he thought she was going to faint, then, however, they began to talk quite naturally. But when he told her that he was very fond of that spot, and went there very often on Sundays, she looked into his eyes for a long time. "I, too, think of it," she replied.
"Come, my dear," her husband said, with a yawn; "I think it is time for us to be going."
THE LANCER"S WIFE