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As the mayor was about
to sit down to breakfast, word was brought to him that the rural
policeman, with two prisoners, was awaiting him at the Hotel de
Ville. He went there at once and found old Hochedur standing guard
before a middle-class couple whom he was regarding with a severe
expression on his face.
The man, a fat old fellow with a red nose and white hair, seemed
utterly dejected; while the woman, a little roundabout individual
with shining cheeks, looked at the official who had arrested them,
with defiant eyes.
"What is it? What is it, Hochedur?"
The rural policeman made his deposition: He had gone out that
morning at his usual time, in order to patrol his beat from the
forest of Champioux as far as the boundaries of Argenteuil. He had
not noticed anything unusual in the country except that it was a
fine day, and that the wheat was doing well, when the son of old
Bredel, who was going over his vines, called out to him: "Here,
Daddy Hochedur, go and have a look at the outskirts of the wood. In
the first thicket you will find a pair of pigeons who must be a
hundred and thirty years old between them!"
He went in the direction indicated, entered the thicket, and there
he heard words which made him suspect a flagrant breach of morality.
Advancing, therefore, on his hands and knees as if to surprise a
poacher, he had arrested the couple whom he found there.
The mayor looked at the culprits in astonishment, for the man was
certainly sixty, and the woman fifty-five at least, and he began to
question them, beginning with the man, who replied in such a weak
voice that he could scarcely be heard.
"What is your name?"
"Nicholas Beaurain."
"Your occupation?"
"Haberdasher, in the Rue des Martyrs, in Paris."
"What were you doing in the wood?"
The haberdasher remained silent, with his eyes on his fat paunch,
and his hands hanging at his sides, and the mayor continued:
"Do you deny what the officer of the municipal authorities states?"
"No, monsieur."
"So you confess it?"
"Yes, monsieur."
"What have you to say in your defence?"
"Nothing, monsieur."
"Where did you meet the partner in your misdemeanor?"
"She is my wife, monsieur."
"Your wife?"
"Yes, monsieur."
"Then--then--you do not live together-in Paris?"
"I beg your pardon, monsieur, but we are living together!"
"But in that case--you must be mad, altogether mad, my dear sir, to
get caught playing lovers in the country at ten o'clock in the
morning."
The haberdasher seemed ready to cry with shame, and he muttered: "It
was she who enticed me! I told her it was very stupid, but when a
woman once gets a thing into her head--you know--you cannot get it
out."
The mayor, who liked a joke, smiled and replied: "In your case, the
contrary ought to have happened. You would not be here, if she had
had the idea only in her head."
Then Monsieur Beauain was seized with rage and turning to his wife,
he said: "Do you see to what you have brought us with your poetry?
And now we shall have to go before the courts at our age, for a
breach of morals! And we shall have to shut up the shop, sell our
good will, and go to some other neighborhood! That's what it has
come to."
Madame Beaurain got up, and without looking at her husband, she
explained herself without embarrassment, without useless modesty,
and almost without hesitation.
"Of course, monsieur, I know that we have made ourselves ridiculous.
Will you allow me to plead my cause like an advocate, or rather like
a poor woman? And I hope that you will be kind enough to send us
home, and to spare us the disgrace of a prosecution.
"Years ago, when I was young, I made Monsieur Beaurain's
acquaintance one Sunday in this neighborhood. He was employed in a
draper's shop, and I was a saleswoman in a ready-made clothing
establishment. I remember it as if it were yesterday. I used to come
and spend Sundays here occasionally with a friend of mine, Rose
Leveque, with whom I lived in the Rue Pigalle, and Rose had a
sweetheart, while I had none. He used to bring us here, and one
Saturday he told me laughing that he should bring a friend with him
the next day. I quite understood what he meant, but I replied that
it would be no good; for I was virtuous, monsieur.
"The next day we met Monsieur Beaurain at the railway station, and
in those days he was good-looking, but I had made up my mind not to
encourage him, and I did not. Well, we arrived at Bezons. It was a
lovely day, the sort of day that touches your heart. When it is fine
even now, just as it used to be formerly, I grow quite foolish, and
when I am in the country I utterly lose my head. The green grass,
the swallows flying so swiftly, the smell of the grass, the scarlet
poppies, the daisies, all that makes me crazy. It is like champagne
when one is not accustomed to it! "Well, it was lovely weather, warm
and bright, and it seemed to penetrate your body through your eyes
when you looked and through your mouth when you breathed. Rose and
Simon hugged and kissed each other every minute, and that gave me a
queer feeling! Monsieur Beaurain and I walked behind them, without
speaking much, for when people do not know each other, they do not
find anything to talk about. He looked timid, and I liked to see his
embarrassment. At last we got to the little wood; it was as cool as
in a bath there, and we four sat down. Rose and her lover teased me
because I looked rather stern, but you will understand that I could
not be otherwise. And then they began to kiss and hug again, without
putting any more restraint upon themselves than if we had not been
there; and then they whispered together, and got up and went off
among the trees, without saying a word. You may fancy what I looked
like, alone with this young fellow whom I saw for the first time. I
felt so confused at seeing them go that it gave me courage, and I
began to talk. I asked him what his business was, and he said he was
a linen draper's assistant, as I told you just now. We talked for a
few minutes, and that made him bold, and he wanted to take liberties
with me, but I told him sharply to keep his place. Is not that true,
Monsieur Beaurain?" Monsieur Beaurain, who was looking at his feet
in confusion, did not reply, and she continued: "Then he saw that I
was virtuous, and he began to make love to me nicely, like an
honorable man, and from that time he came every Sunday, for he was
very much in love with me. I was very fond of him also, very fond of
him! He was a good-looking fellow, formerly, and in short he married
me the next September, and we started in business in the Rue des
Martyrs. "It was a hard struggle for some years, monsieur. Business
did not prosper, and we could not afford many country excursions,
and, besides, we had got out of the way of them. One has other
things in one's head, and thinks more of the cash box than of pretty
speeches, when one is in business. We were growing old by degrees
without perceiving it, like quiet people who do not think much about
love. One does not regret anything as long as one does not notice
what one has lost.
"And then, monsieur, business became better, and we were tranquil as
to the future! Then, you see, I do not exactly know what went on in
my mind, no, I really do not know, but I began to dream like a
little boarding-school girl. The sight of the little carts full of
flowers which are drawn about the streets made me cry; the smell of
violets sought me out in my easy-chair, behind my cash box, and made
my heart beat! Then I would get up and go out on the doorstep to
look at the blue sky between the roofs. When one looks up at the sky
from the street, it looks like a river which is descending on Paris,
winding as it flows, and the swallows pass to and fro in it like
fish. These ideas are very stupid at my age! But how can one help
it, monsieur, when one has worked all one's life? A moment comes in
which one perceives that one could have done something else, and
that one regrets, oh! yes, one feels intense regret! Just think, for
twenty years I might have gone and had kisses in the woods, like
other women. I used to think how delightful it would be to lie under
the trees and be in love with some one! And I thought of it every
day and every night! I dreamed of the moonlight on the water, until
I felt inclined to drown myself.
"I did not venture to speak to Monsieur Beaurain about this at
first. I knew that he would make fun of me, and send me back to sell
my needles and cotton! And then, to speak the truth, Monsieur
Beaurain never said much to me, but when I looked in the glass, I
also understood quite well that I no longer appealed to any one!
"Well, I made up my mind, and I proposed to him an excursion into
the country, to the place where we had first become acquainted. He
agreed without mistrusting anything, and we arrived here this
morning, about nine o'clock.
"I felt quite young again when I got among the wheat, for a woman's
heart never grows old! And really, I no longer saw my husband as he
is at present, but just as he was formerly! That I will swear to
you, monsieur. As true as I am standing here I was crazy. I began to
kiss him, and he was more surprised than if I had tried to murder
him. He kept saying to me: 'Why, you must be mad! You are mad this
morning! What is the matter with you?' I did not listen to him, I
only listened to my own heart, and I made him come into the wood
with me. That is all. I have spoken the truth, Monsieur le Maire,
the whole truth."
The mayor was a sensible man. He rose from his chair, smiled, and
said: "Go in peace, madame, and when you again visit our forests, be
more discreet."