by Eugène Sue
CHAPTER XXXI. VICE AND VIRTUE.
Two days have elapsed since Rodin was miraculously restored to life. Thereader will not have forgotten the house in the Rue Clovis, where thereverend father had an apartment, and where also was the lodging ofPhilemon, inhabited by Rose-Pompon. It is about three o'clock in theafternoon. A bright ray of light, penetrating through a round hole inthe door Mother Arsene's subterraneous shop, forms a striking contrastwith the darkness of this cavern. The ray streams full upon a melancholyobject. In the midst of fagots and faded vegetables, and close to agreat heap of charcoal, stands a wretched bed; beneath the sheet, whichcovers it, can be traced the stiff and angular proportions of a corpse.It is the body of Mother Arsene herself, who died two days before, ofthe cholera. The burials have been so numerous, that there has beenno time to remove her remains. The Rue Clovis is almost deserted. Amournful silence reigns without, often broken by the sharp whistling ofthe north wind. Between the squalls, one hears a sort of pattering. Itis the noise of the large rats, running to and fro across the heap ofcharcoal.
Suddenly, another sound is heard, and these unclean animals fly to hidethemselves in their holes. Some one is trying to force open the door,which communicates between the shop and the passage. It offers butlittle resistance, and, in a few seconds, the worn-out lock givesway, and a woman enters. For a short time she stands motionless in theobscurity of the damp and icy cave. After a minute's hesitation, thewoman advances and the ray of light illumines the features of theBacchanal Queen. Slowly, she approached the funeral couch. Since thedeath of Jacques, the alteration in the countenance of Cephyse had goneon increasing. Fearfully pale, with her fine black hair in disorder,her legs and feet naked, she was barely covered with an old patchedpetticoat and a very ragged handkerchief.
When she came near the bed, she cast a glance of almost savage assuranceat the shroud. Suddenly she drew back, with a low cry of involuntaryterror. The sheet moved with a rapid undulation, extending from the feetto the head of the corpse. But soon the sight of a rat, flying along theside of the worm-eaten bedstead, explained the movement of the shroud.Recovering from her fright, Cephyse began to look for several things,and collected them in haste, as though she dreaded being surprisedin the miserable shop. First, she seized a basket, and filled it withcharcoal; then, looking from side to side, she discovered in a corner anearthen pot, which she took with a burst of ominous joy.
"It is not all, it is not all," said Cephyse, as she continued to searchwith an unquiet air.
At last she perceived near the stove a little tin box, containing flint,steel and matches. She placed these articles on the top of the basket,and took it in one hand, and the earthen pot in the other. As shepassed near the corpse of the poor charcoal-dealer, Cephyse said, with astrange smile: "I rob you, poor Mother Arsene, but my theft will not dome much good."
Cephyse left the shop, reclosed the door as well as she could, went upthe passage, and crossed the little court-yard which separated thefront of the building from that part in which Rodin had lodged. With theexception of the windows of Philemon's apartment, where Rose-Pompon hadso often sat perched like a bird, warbling Beranger, the other windowsof the house were open. There had been deaths on the first and secondfloors, and, like many others, they were waiting for the cart piled upwith coffins.
The Bacchanal Queen gained the stairs, which led to the chambersformerly occupied by Rodin. Arrived at the landing-place she ascendedanother ruinous staircase, steep as a ladder, and with nothing but anold rope for a rail. She at length reached the half-rotten door ofa garret, situated in the roof. The house was in such a state ofdilapidation, that, in many places the roof gave admission to the rain,and allowed it to penetrate into this cell, which was not above ten feetsquare, and lighted by an attic window. All the furniture consisted ofan old straw mattress, laid upon the ground, with the straw peeping outfrom a rent in its ticking; a small earthenware pitcher, with the spoutbroken, and containing a little water, stood by the side of this couch.Dressed in rags, Mother Bunch was seated on the side of the mattress,with her elbows on her knees, and her face concealed in her thin, whitehands. When Cephyse entered the room, the adopted sister of Agricolaraised her head; her pale, mild face seemed thinner than ever, hollowwith suffering, grief, misery; her eyes, red with weeping, were fixed onher sister with an expression of mournful tenderness.
"I have what we want, sister," said Cephyse, in a low, deep voice; "inthis basket there is wherewith to finish our misery."
Then, showing to Mother Bunch the articles she had just placed on thefloor, she added: "For the first time in my life, I have been a thief.It made me ashamed and frightened; I was never intended for that orworse. It is a pity." added she, with a sardonic smile.
After a moment's silence, the hunchback said to her sister, in a heartrending tone: "Cephyse--my dear Cephyse--are you quite determined todie?"
"How should I hesitate?" answered Cephyse, in a firm voice. "Come,sister, let us once more make our reckoning. If even I could forget myshame, and Jacques' contempt in his last moments, what would remain tome? Two courses only: first, to be honest, and work for my living. Butyou know that, in spite of the best will in the world, work will oftenfail, as it has failed for the last few days, and, even when I got it, Iwould have to live on four to five francs a week. Live? that is to say,die by inches. I know that already, and I prefer dying at once. Theother course would be to live a life of infamy--and that I will not do.Frankly, sister, between frightful misery, infamy, or death, can thechoice be doubtful? Answer me!"
Then, without giving Mother Bunch time to speak, Cephyse added, in anabrupt tone: "Besides, what is the good of discussing it? I have made upmy mind, and nothing shall prevent my purpose, since all that you, dearsister, could obtain from me, was a delay of a few days, to see if thecholera would not save us the trouble. To please you I consented; thecholera has come, killed every one else in the house, but left us. Yousee, it is better to do one's own business," added she, again smilingbitterly. Then she resumed: "Besides, dear sister, you also wish tofinish with life."
"It is true, Cephyse," answered the sempstress, who seemed very muchdepressed; "but alone--one has only to answer for one's self--and to diewith you," added she, shuddering, "appears like being an accomplice inyour death."
"Do you wish, then, to make an end of it, I in one place, you inanother?--that would be agreeable!" said Cephyse, displaying in thatterrible moment the sort of bitter and despairing irony which is morefrequent than may be imagined in the midst of mortal anguish.
"Oh, no, no!" said the other in alarm, "not alone--I will not diealone!"
"Do you not see, dear sister, we are right not to part? And yet," addedCephyse, in a voice of emotion, "my heart almost breaks sometimes, tothink that you will die like me."
"How selfish!" said the hunchback, with a faint smile. "What reasonshave I to love life? What void shall I leave behind me?"
"But you are a martyr, sister," resumed Cephyse. "The priests talk ofsaints! Is there one of them so good as you? And yet you are about todie like me, who have always been idle, careless, sinful--while you wereso hardworking, so devoted to all who suffered. What should I say?You were an angel on the earth; and yet you will die like me, who havefallen as low as a woman can fall," added the unfortunate, casting downher eyes.
"It is strange," answered Mother Bunch, thoughtfully. "Starting from thesame point, we have followed different roads, and yet we have reachedthe same goal--disgust of life. For you, my poor sister, but a few daysago, life was so fair, so full of pleasure and of youth; and now it isequally heavy with us both. After all, I have followed to the end whatwas my duty," added she, mildly. "Agricola no longer needs me. He ismarried; he loves, and is beloved; his happiness is secured. Mdlle. deCardoville wants for nothing. Fair, rich, prosperous--what could a poorcreature like myself do for her? Those who have been kind to me arehappy. What prevents my going now to my rest? I am so weary!"
"Poor sister!" said Cephyse, with touching e
motion, which seemed toexpand her contracted features; "when I think that, without informingme, and in spite of your resolution never to see that generous younglady, who protected you, you yet had the courage to drag yourself toher house, dying with fatigue and want, to try to interest her in myfate--yes, dying, for your strength failed on the Champs-Elysees."
"And when I was able to reach the mansion, Mdlle. de Cardoville wasunfortunately absent--very unfortunately!" repeated the hunchback, asshe looked at Cephyse with anguish; "for the next day, seeing that ourlast resource had failed us, thinking more of me than of yourself, anddetermined at any price to procure us bread--"
She could not finish. She buried her face in her hands, and shuddered.
"Well, I did as so many other hapless women have done when work fails orwages do not suffice, and hunger becomes too pressing," replied Cephyse,in a broken voice; "only that, unlike so many others, instead of livingon my shame, I shall die of it."
"Alas! this terrible shame which kills you, my poor Cephyse, because youhave a heart, would have been averted, had I seen Mdlle. de Cardoville,or had she but answered the letter which I asked leave to write to herat the porter's lodge. But her silence proves to me that she is justlyhurt at my abrupt departure from her house. I can understand it; shebelieves me guilty of the blackest ingratitude--for she must have beengreatly offended not to have deigned to answer me--and therefore I hadnot the courage to write a second time. It would have been useless, I amsure; for, good and just as she is, her refusals are inexorable when shebelieves them deserved. And besides, for what good? It was too late; youhad resolved to die!"
"Oh, yes, quite resolved: for my infamy was gnawing at my heart. Jacqueshad died in my arms despising me; and I loved him--mark me, sister,"added Cephyse, with passionate enthusiasm, "I loved him as we love onlyonce in life!"
"Let our fate be accomplished, then!" said Mother Bunch with a pensiveair.
"But you have never told me, sister, the cause of your departure fromMdlle. de Cardoville's," resumed Cephyse, after a moment's silence.
"It will be the only secret that I shall take with me, dear Cephyse,"said the other, casting down her eyes. And she thought, with bitter joy,that she would soon be delivered from the fear which had poisoned thelast days of her sad life--the fear of meeting Agricola, informed of thefatal and ridiculous love she felt for him.
For, it must be said, this fatal and despairing love was one ofthe causes of the suicide of the unfortunate creature. Since thedisappearance of her journal, she believed that the blacksmith knewthe melancholy secret contained in its sad pages. She doubted notthe generosity and good heart of Agricola; but she had such doubts ofherself, she was so ashamed of this passion, however pure andnoble, that, even in the extremity to which Cephyse and herself werereduced--wanting work, wanting bread--no power on earth could haveinduced her to meet Agricola, in an attempt to ask him for assistance.Doubtless, she would have taken another view of the subject if her mindhad not been obscured by that sort of dizziness to which the firmestcharacters are exposed when their misfortunes surpass all bounds.Misery, hunger, the influence, almost contagious in such a moment, ofthe suicidal ideas of Cephyse, and weariness of a life so long devotedto pain and mortification, gave the last blow to the sewing-girl'sreason. After long struggling against the fatal design of her sister,the poor, dejected, broken-hearted creature finished by determining toshare Cephyse's fate, and seek in death the end of so many evils.
"Of what are you thinking, sister?" said Cephyse, astonished at the longsilence. The other replied, trembling: "I think of that which made meleave Mdlle. de Cardoville so abruptly, and appear so ungrateful in hereyes. May the fatality which drove me from her house have made no othervictims! may my devoted service, however obscure and powerless, never bemissed by her, who extended her noble hand to the poor sempstress,and deigned to call me sister! May she be happy--oh, ever happy!" saidMother Bunch, clasping her hands with the ardor of a sincere invocation.
"That is noble, sister--such a wish in such a moment!" said Cephyse.
"Oh," said her sister, with energy, "I loved, I admired that marvelof genius, and heart, and ideal beauty--I viewed her with piousrespect--for never was the power of the Divinity revealed in a moreadorable and purer creation. At least one of my last thoughts will havebeen of her."
"Yes, you will have loved and respected your generous patroness to thelast."
"To the last!" said the poor girl, after a moment's silence. "It istrue--you are right--it will soon be the last!--in a few moments, allwill be finished. See how calmly we can talk of that which frightens somany others!"
"Sister, we are calm because we are resolved."
"Quite resolved, Cephyse," said the hunchback, casting once more a deepand penetrating glance upon her sister.
"Oh, yes, if you are only as determined as I am."
"Be satisfied; if I put off from day to day the final moment," answeredthe sempstress, "it was because I wished to give you time to reflect. Asfor me--"
She did not finish, but she shook her head with an air of the utmostdespondency.
"Well, sister, let us kiss each other," said Cephyse; "and, courage!"
The hunchback rose, and threw herself into her sister's arms. They heldone another fast in a long embrace. There followed a few seconds of deepand solemn silence, only interrupted by the sobs of the sisters, for nowthey had begun to weep.
"Oh, heaven! to love each other so, and to part forever!" said Cephyse."It is a cruel fate."
"To part?" cried Mother Bunch, and her pale, mild countenance, bathedin tears, was suddenly illumined with a ray of divine hope; "topart, sister? oh, no! What makes me so calm is the deep and certainexpectation, which I feel here at my heart, of that better world where abetter life awaits us. God, so great, so merciful, so prodigal of good,cannot destine His creatures to be forever miserable. Selfish men maypervert His benevolent designs, and reduce their brethren to a state ofsuffering and despair. Let us pity the wicked and leave them! Come up onhigh, sister; men are nothing there, where God is all. We shall do wellthere. Let us depart, for it is late."
So saying, she pointed to the ruddy beams of the setting sun, whichbegan to shine upon the window.
Carried away by the religious enthusiasm of her sister, whosecountenance, transfigured, as it were, by the hope of an approachingdeliverance, gleamed brightly in the reflected sunset, Cephyse took herhands, and, looking at her with deep emotion, exclaimed, "Oh, sister!how beautiful you look now!"
"Then my beauty comes rather late in the day," said Mother Bunch, with asad smile.
"No, sister; for you appear so happy, that the last scruples I had uponyour account are quite gone."
"Then let us make haste," said the hunchback, as she pointed to thechafing-dish.
"Be satisfied, sister--it will not be long," said Cephyse. And she tookthe chafing-dish full of charcoal, which she had placed in a corner ofthe garret, and brought it out into the middle of the room.
"Do you know how to manage it?" asked the sewing-girl approaching.
"Oh! it is very simple," answered Cephyse; "we have only to close thedoor and window, and light the charcoal."
"Yes, sister; but I think I have heard that every opening must be wellstopped, so as to admit no current of air."
"You are right, and the door shuts so badly."
"And look at the holes in the roof."
"What is to be done, sister?"
"I will tell you," said Mother Bunch. "The straw of our mattress, welltwisted, will answer every purpose."
"Certainly," replied Cephyse. "We will keep a little to light our fire,and with the rest we will stop up all the crevices in the roof, and makefilling for our doors and windows."
Then, smiling with that bitter irony, so frequent, we repeat, in themost gloomy moments, Cephyse added, "I say, sister, weather-boardsat our doors and windows, to prevent the air from getting in--what aluxury! we are as delicate as rich people."
"At such a time, we may as well t
ry to make ourselves a littlecomfortable," said Mother Bunch, trying to jest like the BacchanalQueen.
And with incredible coolness, the two began to twist the straw intolengths of braid, small enough to be stuffed into the cracks of thedoor, and also constructed large plugs, destined to stop up the crevicesin the roof. While this mournful occupation lasted, there was nodeparture from the calm and sad resignation of the two unfortunatecreatures.
