by Eugène Sue
CHAPTER XXXI. AGRICOLA AND MOTHER BUNCH.
Within one hour after the different scenes which have just beendescribed the most profound silence reigned in the soldier's humbledwelling. A flickering light, which played through two panes of glassin a door, betrayed that Mother Bunch had not yet gone to sleep; forher gloomy recess, without air or light, was impenetrable to the raysof day, except by this door, opening upon a narrow and obscure passage,connected with the roof. A sorry bed, a table, an old portmanteau, and achair, so nearly filled this chilling abode, that two persons could notpossibly be seated within it, unless one of them sat upon the side ofthe bed.
The magnificent and precious flower that Agricola had given to the girlwas carefully stood up in a vessel of water, placed upon the table on alinen cloth, diffusing its sweet odor around, and expanding its purplecalix in the very closet, whose plastered walls, gray and damp, werefeebly lighted by the rays of an attenuated candle. The sempstress, whohad taken off no part of her dress, was seated upon her bed--her lookswere downcast, and her eyes full of tears. She supported herself withone hand resting on the bolster; and, inclining towards the door,listened with painful eagerness, every instant hoping to hear thefootsteps of Agricola. The heart of the young sempstress beat violently;her face, usually very pale, was now partially flushed--so exciting wasthe emotion by which she was agitated. Sometimes she cast her eyes withterror upon a letter which she held in her hand, a letter that hadbeen delivered by post in the course of the evening, and which hadbeen placed by the housekeeper (the dyer) upon the table, while shewas rendering some trivial domestic services during the recognitions ofDagobert and his family.
After some seconds, Mother Bunch heard a door, very near her own, softlyopened.
"There he is at last!" she exclaimed, and Agricola immediately entered.
"I waited till my father went to sleep," said the blacksmith, in a lowvoice, his physiognomy evincing much more curiosity than uneasiness."But what is the matter, my good sister? How your countenance ischanged! You weep! What has happened? About what danger would you speakto me?"
"Hush! Read this!" said she, her voice trembling with emotion, while shehastily presented to him the open letter. Agricola held it towards thelight, and read what follows:
"A person who has reasons for concealing himself, but who knows thesisterly interest you take in the welfare of Agricola Baudoin, warnsyou. That young and worthy workman will probably be arrested in thecourse of to-morrow."
"I!" exclaimed Agricola, looking at Mother Bunch with an air ofstupefied amazement. "What is the meaning of all this?"
"Read on!" quickly replied the sempstress, clasping her hands.
Agricola resumed reading, scarcely believing the evidence of hiseyes:-"The song, entitled 'Working-men Freed,' has been declaredlibellous. Numerous copies of it have been found among the papers of asecret society, the leaders of which are about to be incarcerated, asbeing concerned in the Rue des Prouvaires conspiracy."
"Alas!" said the girl, melting into tears, "now I see it all. The manwho was lurking about below, this evening, who was observed by the dyer,was, doubtless, a spy, lying in wait for you coming home."
"Nonsense!" exclaimed Agricola. "This accusation is quite ridiculous!Do not torment yourself. I never trouble myself with politics. My versesbreathe nothing but philanthropy. Am I to blame, if they have been foundamong the papers of a secret society?" Agricola disdainfully threw theletter upon the table.
"Read! pray read!" said the other; "read on."
"If you wish it," said Agricola, "I will; no time is lost."
He resumed the reading of the letter:
"A warrant is about to be issued against Agricola Baudoin. There is modoubt of his innocence being sooner or later made clear; but it will bewell if he screen himself for a time as much as possible from pursuit,in order that he may escape a confinement of two or three monthsprevious to trial--an imprisonment which would be a terrible blow forhis mother, whose sole support he is.
"A SINCERE FRIEND, who is compelled to remain unknown."
After a moment's silence, the blacksmith raised his head; hiscountenance resumed its serenity; and laughing, he said: "Reassureyourself, good Mother Bunch, these jokers have made a mistake by tryingtheir games on me. It is plainly an attempt at making an April-fool ofme before the time."
"Agricola, for the love of heaven!" said the girl, in a supplicatingtone; "treat not the warning thus lightly. Believe in my forebodings,and listen to my advice."
"I tell you again, my good girl," replied Agricola, "that it is twomonths since my song was published. It is not in any way political;indeed, if it were, they would not have waited till now before comingdown on me."
"But," said the other, "you forget that new events have arisen. It isscarcely two days since the conspiracy was discovered, in this veryneighborhood, in the Rue des Prouvaires. And," continued she, "if theverses, though perhaps hitherto unnoticed, have now been found in thepossession of the persons apprehended for this conspiracy, nothing moreis necessary to compromise you in the plot."
"Compromise me!" said Agricola; "my verses! in which I only praise thelove of labor and of goodness! To arrest me for that! If so, justicewould be but a blind noodle. That she might grope her way, it would benecessary to furnish her with a dog and a pilgrim's staff to guide hersteps."
"Agricola," resumed Mother Bunch; overwhelmed with anxiety and terror onhearing the blacksmith jest at such a moment, "I conjure you to listento me! No doubt you uphold in the verses the sacred love of labor; butyou do also grievously deplore and deprecate the unjust lot of the poorlaborers, devoted as they are, without hope, to all the miseries oflife; you recommend, indeed, only fraternity among men; but your goodand noble heart vents its indignation, at the same time, against theselfish and the wicked. In fine, you fervently hasten on, with the ardorof your wishes, the emancipation of all the artisans who, less fortunatethan you, have not generous M. Hardy for employer. Say, Agricola, inthese times of trouble, is there anything more necessary to compromiseyou than that numerous copies of your song have been found in possessionof the persons who have been apprehended?"
Agricola was moved by these affectionate and judicious expressions ofan excellent creature, who reasoned from her heart; and he began to viewwith more seriousness the advice which she had given him.
Perceiving that she had shaken him, the sewing-girl went on to say: "Andthen, bear your fellow-workman, Remi, in recollection."
"Remi!" said Agricola, anxiously.
"Yes," resumed the sempstress; "a letter of his, a letter in itselfquite insignificant, was found in the house of a person arrested lastyear for conspiracy; and Remi, in consequence, remained a month inprison."
"That is true, but the injustice of his implication was easily shown,and he was set at liberty."
"Yes, Agricola: but not till he had lain a month in prison; and that hasfurnished the motive of the person who advised you to conceal yourself!A month in prison! Good heavens! Agricola, think of that! and yourmother."
These words made a powerful impression upon Agricola. He took up theletter and again read it attentively.
"And the man who has been lurking all this evening about the house?"proceeded she. "I constantly recall that circumstance, which cannot benaturally accounted for. Alas! what a blow it would be for your father,and poor mother, who is incapable of earning anything. Are you notnow their only resource? Oh! consider, then, what would become of themwithout you--without your labor!"
"It would indeed be terrible," said Agricola, impatiently casting theletter upon the table. "What you have said concerning Remi is too true.He was as innocent as I am: yet an error of justice, an involuntaryerror though it be, is not the less cruel. But they don't commit a manwithout hearing him."
"But they arrest him first, and hear him afterwards," said Mother Bunch,bitterly; "and then, after a month or two, they restore him his liberty.And if he have a wife and children, whose only means of living is hisdaily labor, what beco
mes of them while their only supporter is inprison? They suffer hunger, they endure cold, and they weep!"
At these simple and pathetic words, Agricola trembled.
"A month without work," he said, with a sad and thoughtful air. "And mymother, and father, and the two young ladies who make part of our familyuntil the arrival in Paris of their father, Marshal Simon. Oh! you areright. That thought, in spite of myself, affrights me!"
"Agricola!" exclaimed the girl impetuously; "suppose you apply to M.Hardy; he is so good, and his character is so much esteemed and honored,that, if he offered bail for you, perhaps they would give up theirpersecution?"
"Unfortunately," replied Agricola, "M. Hardy is absent; he is on ajourney with Marshal Simon."
After a silence of some time, Agricola, striving to surmount his fear,added: "But no! I cannot give credence to this letter. After all, I hadrather await what may come. I'll at least have the chance of proving myinnocence on my first examination: for indeed, my good sister, whetherit be that I am in prison or that I fly to conceal myself, my workingfor my family will be equally prevented."
"Alas! that is true," said the poor girl; "what is to be done! Oh, whatis to be done?"
"My brave father," said Agricola to himself, "if this misfortune happento-morrow, what an awakening it will be for him, who came here to sleepso joyously!" The blacksmith buried his face in his hands.
Unhappily Mother Bunch's fears were too well-founded, for it will berecollected that at that epoch of the year 1832, before and after theRue des Prouvaires conspiracy, a very great number of arrests had beenmade among the working classes, in consequence of a violent reactionagainst democratical ideas.
Suddenly, the girl broke the silence which had been maintained for someseconds. A blush colored her features, which bore the impressions of anindefinable expression of constraint, grief, and hope.
"Agricola, you are saved!"
"What say you?" he asked.
"The young lady, so beautiful, so good, who gave you this flower" (sheshowed it to the blacksmith) "who has known how to make reparation withso much delicacy for having made a painful offer, cannot but have agenerous heart. You must apply to her--"
With these words which seemed to be wrung from her by a violent effortover herself, great tears rolled down her cheeks. For the first time inher life she experienced a feeling of grievous jealousy. Another womanwas so happy as to have the power of coming to the relief of him whomshe idolized; while she herself, poor creature, was powerless andwretched.
"Do you think so?" exclaimed Agricola surprised. "But what could be donewith this young lady?"
"Did she not say to you," answered Mother Bunch, "'Remember my name; andin all circumstances address yourself to me?'"
"She did indeed!" replied Agricola.
"This young lady, in her exalted position, ought to have powerfulconnections who will be able to protect and defend you. Go to her tomorrow morning; tell her frankly what has happened, and request hersupport."
"But tell me, my good sister, what it is you wish me to do?"
"Listen. I remember that, in former times, my father told us that he hadsaved one of his friends from being put in prison, by becoming suretyfor him. It will be easy for you so to convince this young lady of yourinnocence, that she will be induced to become surety; and after that,you will have nothing more to fear."
"My poor child!" said Agricola, "to ask so great a service from a personto whom one is almost unknown is hard."
"Believe me, Agricola," said the other sadly, "I would never counselwhat could possibly lower you in the eyes of any one, and above all--doyou understand?--above all, in the eyes of this young lady. I do notpropose that you should ask money from her; but only that she shouldgive surety for you, in order that you may have the liberty ofcontinuing at your employment, so that the family may not be withoutresources. Believe me, Agricola, that such a request is in no respectinconsistent with what is noble and becoming upon your part. The heartof the young lady is generous. She will comprehend your position. Therequired surety will be as nothing to her; while to you it will beeverything, and will even be the very life to those who depend uponyou."
"You are right, my good sister," said Agricola, with sadness anddejection. "It is perhaps worth while to risk taking this step. If theyoung lady consent to render me this service, and if giving surety willindeed preserve me from prison, I shall be prepared for every event. Butno, no!" added he, rising, "I'd never dare to make the request to her!What right have I to do so? What is the insignificant service that Irendered her, when compared with that which I should solicit from her?"
"Do you imagine then, Agricola, that a generous spirit measures theservices which ought to be rendered, by those previously received? Trustto me respecting a matter which is an affair of the heart. I am, it istrue, but a lowly creature, and ought not to compare myself with anyother person. I am nothing, and I can do nothing. Nevertheless, I amsure--yes, Agricola, I am sure--that this young lady, who is so very farabove me, will experience the same feelings that I do in this affair;yes, like me, she will at once comprehend that your position is a cruelone; and she will do with joy, with happiness, with thankfulness, thatwhich I would do, if, alas! I could do anything more than uselesslyconsume myself with regrets."
In spite of herself, she pronounced the last words with an expressionso heart-breaking--there was something so moving in the comparison whichthis unfortunate creature, obscure and disdained, infirm and miserable,made of herself with Adrienne de Cardoville, the very type ofresplendent youth, beauty, and opulence--that Agricola was moved even totears; and, holding out one of his hands to the speaker, he said to her,tenderly, "How very good you are; how full of nobleness, good feeling,and delicacy!"
"Unhappily," said the weeping girl, "I can do nothing more than advise."
"And your counsels shall be followed out, my sister dear. They are thoseof a soul the most elevated I have ever known. Yes, you have won me overinto making this experiment, by persuading me that the heart of Miss deCardoville is perhaps equal in value to your own!"
At this charming and sincere assimilation of herself to Miss Adrienne,the sempstress forgot almost everything she had suffered, so exquisitelysweet and consoling were her emotions. If some poor creatures, fatallydevoted to sufferings, experience griefs of which the world knowsnaught, they sometimes, too, are cheered by humble and timid joys, ofwhich the world is equally ignorant. The least word of true tendernessand affection, which elevates them in their own estimation, is ineffablyblissful for these unfortunate beings, habitually consigned, not only tohardships and to disdain, but even to desolating doubts, and distrust ofthemselves.
"Then it is agreed that you will go, to-morrow morning to this younglady's house?" exclaimed Mother Bunch, trembling with a new-born hope."And," she quickly added, "at break of day I'll go down to watch at thestreet-door, to see if there be anything suspicious, and to apprise youof what I perceive."
"Good, excellent girl!" exclaimed Agricola, with increasing emotion.
"It will be necessary to endeavor to set off before the wakening ofyour father," said the hunchback. "The quarter in which the young ladydwells, is so deserted, that the mere going there will almost serve foryour present concealment."
"I think I hear the voice of my father," said Agricola suddenly.
In truth, the little apartment was so near Agricola's garret, that heand the sempstress, listening, heard Dagobert say in the dark:
"Agricola, is it thus that you sleep, my boy? Why, my first sleep isover; and my tongue itches deucedly."
"Go quick, Agricola!" said Mother Bunch; "your absence would disquiethim. On no account go out to-morrow morning, before I inform you whetheror not I shall have seen anything suspicious."
"Why, Agricola, you are not here?" resumed Dagobert, in a louder voice.
"Here I am, father," said the smith, while going out of the sempstress'sapartment, and entering the garret, to his father.
"I have been to fasten t
he shutter of a loft that the wind agitated,lest its noise should disturb you."
"Thanks, my boy; but it is not noise that wakes me," said Dagobert,gayly; "it is an appetite, quite furious, for a chat with you. Oh, mydear boy, it is the hungering of a proud old man of a father, who hasnot seen his son for eighteen years."
"Shall I light a candle, father?"
"No, no; that would be luxurious; let us chat in the dark. It will be anew pleasure for me to see you to-morrow morning at daybreak. It will belike seeing you for the first time twice." The door of Agricola's garretbeing now closed, Mother Bunch heard nothing more.
The poor girl, without undressing, threw herself upon the bed, andclosed not an eye during the night, painfully awaiting the appearance ofday, in order that she might watch over the safety of Agricola. However,in spite of her vivid anxieties for the morrow, she sometimes allowedherself to sink into the reveries of a bitter melancholy. She comparedthe conversation she had just had in the silence of night, with the manwhom she secretly adored, with what that conversation might have been,had she possessed some share of charms and beauty--had she been loved asshe loved, with a chaste and devoted flame! But soon sinking into beliefthat she should never know the ravishing sweets of a mutual passion, shefound consolation in the hope of being useful to Agricola. At the dawnof day, she rose softly, and descended the staircase with little noise,in order to see if anything menaced Agricola from without.
