CHAPTER XXX.
THE MOTHER'S BLESSING.
It was six o'clock in the afternoon, broad day, when Catherine arrivedhome.
Had Isidore been alive and she were coming to visit her mother inhealth, she would have got down from the stage at the end of the villageand slipped round upon her father's farm, without going through. Buta widow and a mother, she did not give a thought to rustic jests; shealighted without fear; it seemed to her that scorn and insult ought tobe warded off from her by her child and her sorrow, the dark and thebright angel.
At the first she was not recognized; she was so pale and so changed thatshe did not seem the same woman; and what set her apart from her classwas the lofty air which she had already caught from community with anelegant man.
One person knew her again but not till she had passed by.
This was Pitou's aunt Angelique. She was gossiping at the townhouse doorwith some cronies about the oath required of the clergy, declaring thatshe had heard Father Fortier say that he would never vow allegiance tothe Revolution, preferring to submit to martyrdom than bend his head tothe democratic yoke.
"Bless us and save us!" she broke forth, in the midst of her speech, "ifhere ain't Billet's daughter and her fondling a-stepping down off thecoach."
"Catherine?" cried several voices.
"Yes, but look at her running away, down the lane."
Aunt Angelique was making a mistake: Catherine was not running away andshe took the sideway simply because she was in haste to see her mother.
At the cry the children scampered after her, and as she was fond of themalways, and more than ever at present, she gave them some small changewith which they returned.
"What is that?" asked the gossips.
"It is Miss Catherine; she asked how her mother was and when we said thedoctor says she is good for a week yet, she thanked us and gave us somemoney."
"Hem! then, she seems to have taken her pigs to a good market in Paris,"sneered Angelique, "to be able to give silver to the urchins who run ather heels."
She did not like Catherine because the latter was young and sweet andAngelique was old and sour; Catherine was tall and well made while theother was short and limped. Besides, when Angelique turned her nephewAnge out of doors, it was on Billet's farm that he took refuge.
Again, it was Billet who had lugged Father Fortier out of his rectory tosay the mass for the country on the day of the Declaration of the Rightsof Man.
All these were ample reasons for Angelique to hate Catherine, joined toher natural asperity, in particular, and the Billet's in general. Andwhen she hated it was thorough, as becomes a prude and a devotee.
She ran to the priest's to tell him and his sister the fresh scandal ofBillet's daughter returning home with her child.
"Indeed," said Fortier, "I should have thought she would drop it intothe box at the Foundling Hospital."
"The proper thing to do, for then the thing would not have to blush forhis mother."
"That is a new point from which to regard that institution! But what hasshe come after here?"
"It looks as if to see her mother, who might not have been livingstill."
"Stay, a woman who does not come to confess, methinks?" said the abbe,with a wicked smile.
"Oh, that is not her fault!" said the old maid, "but she has hadsoftening of the brain lately; up to the time when her daughter threwthis grief upon her, she was a pious soul who feared God and paid fortwo chairs when she came to church, one to sit in, the other to put herfeet upon."
"But how many chairs did her husband pay for, Billet, the Hero of theMobs, the Conqueror of the Bastile?" cried the priest, his little eyessparkling with spite.
"I do not know," returned Angelique simply, "for he never comes tochurch, while his good wife----"
"Very well, we will settle accounts with him on the day of his goodwife's funeral."
In the meantime Catherine continued her way, one long series of memoriesof him who was no more, unless his arms were around the little boy whomshe carried on her bosom.
What would the neighbors say of her shame and dishonor? So handsome aboy would be a shame and disgrace to a peasant!
But she entered the farm without fear though rapidly.
A huge dog barked as she came up, but suddenly recognizing his youngmistress, he neared her to the stretch of his chain, and stood up withhis forepaws in the air to utter little joyous yelps.
At the dog's barking a man ran out to see the cause.
"Miss Catherine," he exclaimed.
"Father Clovis," she said.
"Welcome, dear young mistress--the house much needs you, by heaven!"
"And my poor mother?"
"Sorry to say she is just the same, neither worse nor better--she isdying out like an oilless lamp, poor dear!"
"Where is she?"
"In her own room."
"Alone?"
"No, no, no! I would not have allowed that. You must excuse me, MissCatherine, coming out as the master here, but your having stopped at myhouse before you went to town made me one of the family, I thought, in amanner of speaking, and I was very fond of you and poor Master Isidore."
"So you know?" said Catherine, wiping away her tears.
"Yes, yes, killed for the Queen's sake, like his brother. But he hasleft something behind him, a lovely boy, so while we mourn for thefather we must smile for the son."
"Thank you, Clovis," said she, giving her hand: "but my mother?"
"I had Mother Clement the nurse to sit with her, the same who attendedto you----"
"Has my mother her senses yet?" asked the girl hesitating.
"Sometimes I think so, when your name is spoken. That was the greatmeans of stirring her, but since yesterday she has not showed any signseven when you are spoken of."
He opened the bedroom door and she could glance in.
Mother Clement was dozing in a large armchair, while her patient seemedto be asleep: she was not much changed but her complexion was like ivoryin pallor.
"Mother, my dear mother," exclaimed Catherine, rushing into the room.
The dying one opened her eyes and tried to turn her head, as a gleamof intelligence sparkled in her look; but, babbling, her movement wasabortive, and her arm sank inert on the head of the girl, kneeling byher side.
From the lethargy of the father and the mother had shot two oppositefeelings: hate from the former, love from the latter.
The girl's arrival caused excitement on the farm, where Billet wasexpected, not his daughter. She related the accident to the farmer, andhow he was as near death's door as his wife at home, only he was movingfrom it on the right side.
She went into her own room, where there were many tears evoked by thememories where she had passed in the bright dreams of childhood, and thegirl's burning passions, and returned with the widow's broken heart.
At once she resumed the sway over that house in disorder which herfather had delegated to her to the detriment of her mother.
Father Clovis, thanked and rewarded, retook the road to his "earth," ashis hut was called.
When Dr. Raynal came next day on his tri-weekly visit, he was glad tosee the girl.
He broached the great question which he had not dared debate withBillet, whether the poor woman should receive the Last Sacrament.Billet was a rabid Voltairian, while the doctor was a scientist. But hebelieved it his duty in such cases to warn the family of the dying andlet them settle it.
Catherine was pious and attached little importance to the wranglesbetween her father and the priest.
But the abbe was one of the sombre school, who would have been aninquisitor in Spain. When he found the sufferer unconscious, he saidthat he could not give absolution to those unable to confess, and wentout again.
There was no use applying elsewhere as he was monarch over this parish.
Catherine accepted the refusal as still another grief and went on withher cares as daughter and mother for eight or nine days and nights.
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p; As she was watching by her mother, frail bark sinking deeper and deeperon Eternity's sea, the door opened, and Pitou appeared on the sill.
He came from Paris that morning. Catherine shuddered to see him, fearingthat her father was dead. But his countenance, without being what youwould call gay, was not that of the bearer of bad news. Indeed, Billetwas mending; since a few days the doctor had answered for him: thatmorning he had been moved from the hospital to the doctor's house.
Pitou feared for Catherine, now. His opinion was that the moment Billetlearned what he was sure to ask, how his wife was, he would start forhome.
What would it be if he found Catherine there?
It was Gilbert who had therefore sent Pitou down into the country.But when Pitou expressed their fears about their meeting, Catherinedeclared that she would not leave her mother's pillow although herfather slew her there.
Pitou groaned at such a determination but he did not combat it.
So he stayed there to intervene, if he might.
During two days and nights, Mother Billet's life seemed going, breath bybreath. It was a wonder how a body lived with so little breath, but howslightly it lived!
During the night, when all animation seemed extinct, the patient awokeas it were, and she stared at Catherine, who ran to bring her boy.
The eyes were bright when she returned, a sound was heard, and the armswere held out.
Catherine fell on her knees beside the bed.
A strange phenomenon took place: Mother Billet rose on her pillow,slowly held out her arms over the girl's head and the boy, and with amighty effort, said:
"Bless you, my children!"
She fell back, dead. Her eyes remained open, as though she longed to seeher daughter from beyond the grave from not having seen enough of herbefore.
The Royal Life Guard; or, the flight of the royal family. Page 30
