The Heart of A Man by William Merriam Rouse

by Monte Herridge

  Argosy, August 19, 1919

  The Heart of A Man

  by William Merriam Rouse

  HERE were neither men nor women in

  words of Marcellin with a half smile and of Riviere du Loup who could not look

  course, from that time he no longer went to T steadily upon a little bloodletting, and the house. But love cannot be cut with a knife.

  yet many of those who saw the beating that

  The home of Boivin lay on one side of the

  Marcellin Fortier, the blacksmith, gave stone bridge over the Riviere du Loup, which Achille Boivin were made sick and had no

  dashed fiercely through the village, and the appetite for food during the remainder of that buildings of Fortier lay within hailing distance day.

  on the other side, Achille could hear the tinkle It was of a manner unknown ever to

  of iron on iron from the blacksmith-shop, and the wickedest of the wood-choppers’ camps in he could easily signal lo Angelique when to Canada; and undoubtedly if the men of the

  start for the store or the post-office-really to village had not lacked a leader they would

  meet him in the kitchen of some neighbor

  have hurled Fortier down into the foaming

  friendly to romance.

  rapids under the bridge, so evil were the things The love affair flowed secretly and

  he did. Afterward the affair took on a different smoothly for a time. That was the trouble. It complexion, and no one thought it wise to

  should have beaten its way onward like the

  interfere with that which seemed especially to Riviere du Loup, showing angry white water

  be in the hands of God.

  where the locks were and winning to

  For a long time Achille Boivin had

  tranquility by a powerful swiftness. One day been courting Angelique Fortier, the daughter in summer Mlle. Angelique said as much to

  of Marcellin. He loved her with that kind of Achille, when they were coming in from a

  love which is undivided with anything in the meeting on the outskirts of the village.

  world, which has no eyes for any other

  “We will wail,” replied Achille, with a

  woman, which is gentle, persistent and smile. “Perhaps your father will be persuaded unchanging. Although Achille was a when he sees that you will not marry any one cabinetmaker by trade, and had a good shop

  else.”

  and house, he was more a dreamer of dreams

  “Wait?” echoed the girl. She stood

  than a worker, and many of the beautiful only as high as the shoulder of Boivin, who pieces of furniture which he had created in his was by no means a man of great stature, but mind had not found physical substance now she appeared to grow. Tiny candles through the various woods and the keen tools seemed to light, in the depths of her dark eyes, of his shop. He never had much more money

  and her clear, while skin turned the hue of than was necessary to live; and it was pale roses. “Truly, you speak more with the probably because of this defect in his wisdom of eighty than with the understanding character that Fortier at length forbade him to of twenty. We are both very young, certainly, talk with Angelique.

  but nevertheless the days go slipping away

  On that occasion Achille seemed like

  from our hands and they will never come

  one who knew neither fear nor courage. He

  back. Put your wits to the matter, Achille!

  listened to the snarling and contemptuous Otherwise you deserve to lose—”

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  “Not you!” he cried, bending over her

  of an inch long red scratch upon his wrist.

  tenderly. “Without at least the hope of you, What she thought of in the few seconds before my soul, I could not live.”

  he was upon Boivin it is impossible to know; It was while they stood thus, looking at

  all the world saw what she did before the end each other with eyes brimming with love, that of the tragedy.

  Marcellin Fortier came upon them. Perhaps it Just at the beginning she moved a few

  was chance although he seldom left the shop steps away from her lover and looked at him in the daytime but more likely some trouble-with a proud and confident eye; her little chin breeder had whispered a few words in his ear.

  lifted and her face dead white under its glory Certainly he came padding along the street

  of blue-black hair.

  lightly with the weight of his thick and hairy The next instant she saw the smile of

  body, half naked because of the heat of the Achille, which still lingered faintly, turn to a forge, balanced nicely for attack.

  big red smear. She saw one of his fists, as he It was like the man that he came rocked upon his feet, draw blood on her speaking no word; but with his knotty, father’s cheek. Then began that terrible blackened fingers crawling against each other punishment which is sometimes talked of even as stubby snakes might crawl. His head rolled now when the old men of the parish meet

  slightly; his short, stiff beard jutted out like a together after mass. Red flesh beaten as a

  living menace.

  butcher mauls tough meat; and the snap of

  The people in the streets who saw more than one bone under the iron hands of Fortier move onward toward his daughter and the blacksmith. One terrible cry, choked back young Boivin became silent also. They stood by blood, came from the tortured throat of

  still. A woman gave a little gasp as he drew Boivin.

  near to the pair, but there was no other sound Despite the thoroughness of the thing

  to break the summer quiet except the swish-it was completed in not much more than a

  swish of his feet in the dust.

  minute of time. Achille lay upon the ground, Achille was puzzled. Instinctively he

  and but for the outline of his form and the realized that this giant of a man was about to clothing he wore one would have doubled that attack him, and he fell singularly helpless in he was human. Fortier, with red hands and a the face of the impending battle. His smile and little trickle of blood upon his face, drew back his gentleness had won him friends all his life a heavily shod foot to change his crime to

  so that it is doubtful if he had had a fight since murder. Then Angelique leaped in front of her the days when he rolled in the snow with other father, so close to him that the kick swung off youngsters about the parochial school. He did into the air, and struck her open hand against not want to fight, but he knew that it was the the wound Achille had made upon his check.

  thing to do. So the muscles along his slender

  “You are a devil!” she said, in a tone

  but well-knit body grew taut and his arms

  no louder than she would have used in

  curved almost involuntarily.

  speaking to Achille. So still was the street, Angelique Fortier without doubt, knew

  however, with the horror of what it had just what was going to happen, for she knew her

  seen, that her words went to many ears and

  father in all his black moods and rages. She were repeated often and often later on.

  had been in the shop the time he killed the Fortier looked at her for an instant with

  horse of Jacques Painehaud with a hammer

  death flaming in his face. A man or two

  because it had stepped on his foot; she had started forward from the crowd, but they were seen him hurl a kitten into the rapids because not needed. With a shrug, Marcellin Fortier

  The Heart of A Man

  3
<
br />   turned away and shuffled his heavy shoes,

  and often he caught her watching him with an swish-swish, through the dust toward his unfamiliar expression upon her seamed and blacksmith-shop.

  yellow face.

  Mlle, Fortier knelt in the street beside

  For days, many days after he had fully

  Achille. Her little hand dipped inside his shirt regained his health and strength, Achille

  it lingered there a few seconds, and a tinge of Boivin went from house to shop and back

  color came back to her face. She nodded to the again; working slowly but with his old

  men who were nearest.

  cunning of hand. During this time he caught

  “Take him home!” she said. “Thank

  glimpses of Angelique in the garden back of God he will live!”

  her home; he had long since learned from

  She said this boldly, in the face of the

  Catin that the girl lived in her father’s house, world, and yet there was so much simple

  doing his work for him, but holding no

  loyalty in her voice and bearing that neither communication, save what was made

  then nor afterward did the worst gossip in

  necessary by their residence under the same Riviere du Loup speak one word against her.

  roof.

  More than that, her defiance of such a parent Fortier had cursed Achille Boivin,

  as Satan had contrived to make her father was people said, to the deepest hell: and there were praised even in a country where the words of some even who thought the blacksmith ought

  the elders, especially as to marriage, is almost to be arrested. But this talk soon fell through everywhere respected.

  as being both cowardly and ridiculous. A man They carried Achille Boivin home on a

  should settle his own quarrels—unless they

  mattress, and they got a doctor from the next concerned money or land, in which case the

  village, who set what bones were broken and more lawyers the better.

  left medicine for the fever which he said

  The first glimpse of Angelique was

  would follow. For the rest it was old Catin both a torture and a pleasure; she stood and Poisson, a dried and bony woman servant,

  waved to Achille, regardless of whether or not bequeathed to Achille by his father and her father might see. But as time passed her mother, who made him well.

  hands remained at her sides when she saw

  She was with him day and night, him, and she would stand gazing earnestly sleeping in a drafty hallway outside his across the river until he turned away; bedroom door: cheering him with the story of sometimes to go to work, but more often to

  Angelique’s defiance of her father, with droll huddle himself down in a chair and stay there bits of gossip from the village, and with the the remainder of the day.

  most marvelous dishes of broth and trifles of It was after one of these long

  other foods. It was not until the bones of

  exchanges of glances that Boivin wheeled,

  Achille were knit and the wounds on his face unable to bear it longer, and found himself had turned to slowly disappearing red scars looking into the eyes of old Catin. Those

  that Catin began to act differently toward him.

  glittering little orbs pierced him with a

  He was able to sit up by that time, in the sun at question, and he felt the hot blood pounding in the side of his shop, and very possibly his face. He forced himself to meet her gaze, something of the change that had taken place jerking his head up; and then he walked to the within him communicated intelligence of itself shop with something of resolution in his step.

  to the servant. Her stream of gossip gradually He look a big limb of hardback and

  ran dry, the tenderness of her care gave place shaped it with hatchet and draw-shave until he to the ordinary attention of a faithful servant, had a knotty club, heavy at the striking end

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  and balanced nicely to the hand, it was a

  Lord God! Did she expect him to be able to

  weapon with which to stun, or even kill, a

  give her father a beating?

  man.

  A roar from Fortier blotted out the

  The clang and ring of the anvil came to

  picture, and all his thoughts.

  him as he left the shop and walked lingeringly

  “If you ever cross that bridge I’ll tear

  down toward the bridge. The sounds which he your legs and arms off!”

  had vaguely thought of as music all his life Angelique disappeared for a moment,

  now became a kind of knell which struck into to reappear at the door of the shop with

  his soul. He had the feeling of being in a dank something that looked like a weapon in her

  cellar; his hands were cold and moist at the hand. There was a stirring among the men in same time, and in his mouth there was a

  front of the building. Fortier had nothing but sudden dryness. Angelique had come out into his hands. Achille realized that he had

  the garden, and she was watching him. Her

  sympathy, possibly aid, and a chance of

  hand went up with a quick flutter of victory; yet at the thought of again going encouragement.

  within reach of those itching fingers and

  Very likely Marcellin Fortier kept a

  corded arms he became all soft within himself, constant sidewise watch upon his daughter, for and he could not lift one foot and put it down the shop was open front and back in summer, before the other.

  and he could see into the garden. Anyhow hw Houses and people swung before his

  came to the front door as Boivin neared the gaze in a mist. He trembled. Then came a

  bridge, and shading his eyes with his hand, sudden, sickening kind of physical comfort

  made sure that he saw aright. Down from his coincident with the knowledge that he was not shop he started with that shuffling but lithe going lo cross the bridge. Achille Boivin was tread of his. He reached the bridgehead and a coward.

  waited.

  His shoulders drooped forward and the

  Achille marched on, but with steps that

  club hung listless in his hand. In a rambling grew slower and slower. All the terror of the fashion he headed up the hill toward home:

  long minute he had spent under the hands of and in the moment of turning he saw

  Fortier came back to him all the long hours Angelique fling whatever she had hold in her and days of agony that had followed. His flesh hand into the middle of the road. He saw a

  drew back, quivering, from the prospect of an fierce grin on the face of Marcellin

  encounter, and his muscles moved Fortier and heard a murmur from those who protestingly, like the muscles of a very old had seen his shame.

  man. He reached the bridgehead on his own

  He wanted to go back, and could not.

  side and halted. Less than a hundred feet He knew that many brave men are afraid—

  separated the two.

  but they do the thing that has to be done. That A few men had come out of the black-is why they are brave men. He, however, had smith-shop and were whispering together. given the victory to fear. He wished that death Children playing in the street, had gone back would strike him.

  to their doorsteps, feeling the shadow of evil, Catin was in the doorway. As he drew

  and the heads of women, here and there dotted near she turned away, but he saw that her face the windows of the whitewashed stone houses.

  was as though it had been graven from stone.

  Angelique Fortior stood still in the garden, Was there any place under the sun where he

  and now Achille was near enough to see upon could hide himself? He went to his bedroom

  her face an expression of triumphant love.

  and lay down there with h
is face buried in the

  The Heart of A Man

  5

  pillows and the brave club idle upon the floor.

  the village. She did the marketing, she

  All the rest of the day he lay there until, at changed Boivin’s money into gold so that he dusk, Catin came wish some thick soup. She

  could hide it under the floor of his shop, and put it on a little table and went out without a she made all arrangements for supplies of rare word: and he knew that whether or not she

  woods to be brought in by wagon or sleigh

  remained with him he was quite alone in the from the railroad.

  world.

  Toward her master Catin Poisson

  The next day was better; for the soul,

  maintained the same grim silence which had

  like the body, cannot endure the acuteness of come upon her the day of his failure at the misery forever. Achille went to work, and on bridge. She spoke when she was spoken to;

  his way he saw, with a swift, shamed glance.

  and she made brief reports as to business

  Angelique in her garden. She did not look

  transactions. Otherwise they were like a pair toward him. Never before had her intuition

  of mules, living a life as regular as a monk’s failed lo tell her when he was outside, and he upon the surface, but underneath seething with knew that it did not fail now.

  self-contempt and agony on his part, and

  He worked furiously, and yet with the

  shame and longing on hers. For Catin had

  greatest care. A chest of drawers of red cedar been long enough in the service of the family began to grow. He pictured it in his mind, and Boivin to feel that its honor was her own.

  knew that it would be more beautiful in ills Of Angelique Achille learned little that

  purity of line than anything he had yet created, little being from people of the town who

  he strove to forget his self-contempt in the came, to have some unpretentious cabinet

  work of creation; and to a certain extent he work done, and who liked to watch the effect succeeded. No doubt it was this which kept