by Hector Malot
CHAPTER XXII
A CABLE TO DACCA
M. Vulfran was waiting for her. She had no time to think over whatTalouel had threatened. She went on with her translation, hoping thather emotion would die down and leave her in a state better able to cometo a decision as to what she should do. She continued to write:
"So much time has elapsed since the marriage of your son, M. EdmondPaindavoine, that I have had some difficulty in getting together thefacts. It was our own Father Leclerc who performed this marriage.
"The lady who became your son's wife was endowed with the finest womanlyqualities. She was upright, kind, charming; added to these qualities,she was gifted with remarkable personal charms. The time is past whenall the knowledge the Hindu woman possessed consisted in the art ofbeing graceful and the science of etiquette of their social world. Todaythe Hindu woman's mind is cultivated to a remarkable degree. Your son'swife was a highly educated girl. Her father and mother were of theBrahmin faith, but Father Leclerc had the joy of converting them to ourown religion. Unfortunately, when a Hindu is converted to our religionhe loses his caste, his rank, his standing in social life. This was thecase with the family whose daughter married your son. By becomingChristians, they became to a certain extent outcasts.
"So you will quite understand that being cast off by the all-powerfulHindu world, this charming girl, who was now a Christian, should turnand take her place in European society. Her father went into partnershipwith a well-known French exporter, and the firm was known as Doressany(Hindu) & Bercher (French).
"It was in the home of Madame Bercher that your son met Marie Doressanyand fell in love with her. Everybody spoke in the highest praise of thisyoung lady. I did not know her, for I came to Dacca after she left. Whythere should have been any obstacle to this union I cannot say. That isa matter I must not discuss. Although there were, however, objections,the marriage took place and in our own Chapel. The Reverend FatherLeclerc bestowed the nuptial blessing upon the marriage of your son andMarie Doressany. This marriage was recorded in our registers, and a copyof it can be sent to you if you wish.
"For four years your son Edmond lived at the home of his wife's parents.There a little girl was born to the young couple. Everyone who remembersthem speaks of them, as a model couple, and like all young people, theytook part in the social pleasures of their world.
"For some time the firm of Doressany & Bercher prospered, then hardtimes came, and after several bad seasons the firm was ruined. M. andMme. Doressany died at some months' interval, and Monsieur Bercher withhis family returned to France. Your son then traveled to Dalhousie ascollector of plants and antiquities for various English houses. He tookwith him his young wife and his little girl, who was about three yearsold.
"He did not return to Dacca, but I learn from one of his friends to whomhe has written several times, and from Father Leclerc, who wroteregularly to Mme. Paindavoine, that they had a villa at Dehra. Theyselected this spot to live in as it was the center of his voyages; hetraveled between the Thiberian frontier and the Himalayas.
"I do not know Dehra, but we have a mission in this town, and if youthink it might help in our researches I shall be pleased to send you aletter for one of the Fathers whose help might be useful in thismatter...."
At last the letter was finished. The moment she had translated the lastword, without even waiting to write the polite ending, she gathered upher sheets and went quickly to M. Vulfran's office. She found himwalking back and forth the length of the room, counting his steps asmuch to avoid bumping against the wall as to curb his impatience.
"You have been very slow," he said.
"The letter was long and difficult," she replied.
"And you were interrupted, were you not? I heard the door of your officeopen and close twice."
Since he put the question to her, she thought that she ought to replytruthfully. It would solve the problem that had caused her so muchanxiety.
"Monsieur Theodore and Monsieur Talouel came into the office," she said.
"Ah!..."
He seemed as though he wanted to say more, but refrained.
"Give me the letter first," he said, "and we'll see to the other matterafter. Sit down beside me and read slowly. Don't raise your voice."
She read. Her voice was somewhat weak.
As she read the blind man murmured to himself from time to time: "Modelcouple" ... "social pleasures" ... "English houses" ... "which?" ..."One of his friends" ... "Which friend?"
When she had finished there was a silence. Finally M. Vulfran spoke:
"Can you translate into English as well as you translate English intoFrench?" he asked.
"I can do it if the phrases are not too difficult," she replied.
"A cable?"
"Yes, I think so."
"Well, sit down at that little table and write."
He dictated in French:
"Father Fields' Mission, Dacca:
"Thanks for letter. Please send by cable, reply prepaid, twenty words ... name of friend who received last news, date of letter. Send also name of the Reverend Father at Dehra. Inform him that I shall write him immediately. Paindavoine."
* * * * *
"Translate that into English and make it shorter rather than longer, ifpossible. At one franc sixty centimes a word, we must not waste words.Write very clearly."
The translation was quickly made.
"How many words?" he asked.
"In English ... thirty-seven."
He made the calculation for the message and for the return answer.
"Now," he said to Perrine, giving her the money, "take it yourself tothe telegraph office, hand it in and see that no mistakes are made bythe receiver."
As she crossed the veranda she saw Talouel, who, with his hands thrustin his pockets, was strolling about as though on the lookout for allthat passed in the yards as well as in the offices.
"Where are you going?" he demanded.
"To the cable office with a message," replied Perrine. She held thepaper in one hand and the money in the other. He took the paper fromher, snatching it so roughly that if she had not let it go he would havetorn it. He hastily opened it. His face flushed with anger when he sawthat the message was written in English.
"You know that you've got to talk with me later on, eh?" he said.
"Yes, sir."
She did not see M. Vulfran again before three o'clock, when he rang forher to go out. She had wondered who would replace William, and she wasvery surprised when M. Vulfran told her to take her seat beside him,after having sent away the coachman who had brought old Coco around.
"As you drove him so well yesterday, there is no reason why you shouldnot drive him well today," said M. Vulfran. "Besides, I want to talk toyou, and it is better for us to be alone like this."
It was not until they had left behind the village, where theirappearance excited the same curiosity as the evening before, and weregoing at a gentle trot along the lanes, that M. Vulfran began to talk.Perrine would like to have put off this moment; she was very nervous.
"You told me that M. Theodore and Talouel came into your office?" saidthe blind man.
"Yes, sir."
"What did they want?"
She hesitated. Her little face wore a very worried look.
"Why do you hesitate?" asked the blind man. "Don't you think that youought to tell me everything?"
"Yes, indeed," said Perrine, fervently. Was this not the best way tosolve her difficulties? She told what had happened when Theodore hadcome into the office.
"Was that all?" asked M. Vulfran, when she stopped.
"Yes, sir; that was all."
"And Talouel?"
Again she told exactly what had occurred, only omitting to tell him thatTalouel had said that a sudden announcement of news, good or bad, mightprove fatal to him. She then told him what had passed regarding thecable; and also that Talouel said he was going to talk with her afterwork that sa
me day.
As she talked she had let old Coco go at her own will, and the oldhorse, taking advantage of her freedom, shambled along calmly from oneside of the road to the other, sniffing the odor of the warm hay thatthe breeze wafted to his nostrils.
When Perrine stopped talking her grandfather remained silent for sometime. Knowing that he could not see her, she fixed her eyes on his faceand she read in his expression as much sadness as annoyance.
"No harm shall come to you," he said at last. "I shall not mention whatyou have told me, and if anyone wants to take revenge on you foropposing their attempts I shall be near to protect you. I thoughtsomething like this would happen, but it will not occur a second time.In the future you will sit at the little table that is in my office. Ihardly think that they'll try to question you before me. But as theymight try to do so after you leave off work, over at Mother Francoise'swhere you eat, I shall take you to my home to live with me. You willhave a room in the chateau, and you will eat at my table. As I amexpecting to have some correspondence with persons in India, and Ishall receive letters in English and cables, you alone will know aboutthem. I must take every precaution, for they will do their utmost tomake you talk. I shall be able to protect you if you are by my side;besides, this will be my reply to those who try to force you to speak,as well as a warning if they still try to tempt you. Then, also, it willbe a reward for you."
Perrine, who had been trembling with anxiety when M. Vulfran commencedto speak, was now so overcome with joy that she could find no words withwhich to reply.
"I had faith in you, child," continued the old man, "from the moment Iknew what struggle you had made against poverty. When one is as brave asyou, one is honest. You have proved to me that I have not made amistake, and that I can be proud of you. It is as though I have knownyou for years. I am a very lonely and unhappy man. What is my wealth tome? It is a heavy burden if you have not the health to enjoy it. And yetthere are those who envy me. There are seven thousand men and women whodepend upon me for a living. If I failed there would be misery andhunger and perhaps death for many. I must keep up for them. I mustuphold the honor of this house which I have built up, little by little.It is my joy, my pride ... and yet ... I am blind!"
The last words were said with such bitterness that Perrine's eyes filledwith tears. The blind man continued: "You ought to know from villagetalk and from the letter that you translated that I have a son. My sonand I disagreed. We parted; there were many reasons for us doing so. Hethen married against my wishes and our separation was complete. But withall this my affection for him has not changed. I love him after allthese years of absence as though he were still the little boy I broughtup, and when I think of him, which is day and night, it is the littleboy that I see with my sightless eyes. My son preferred that woman tohis own father. Instead of coming back to me he preferred to live withher because I would not, or could not, receive her. I hoped that hewould give in, but he thought probably that I in time would give in. Wehave both the same characters. I have had no news from him. After myillness, of which I am sure he knew, for I have every reason to believethat he has been kept informed of all that happens here, I thought thathe would come back to me, but he has not returned. That wretched womanevidently holds him back. She is not content with having taken him fromme, she keeps him ... the wretch...."
The blind man stopped. Perrine, who had been hanging on his words, hadscarcely breathed, but at the last words she spoke.
"The letter from Father Fields said that she was a lady, honorable andupright. He does not speak of her as a wretch."
"What the letter says cannot go against facts," said the blind man,obstinately. "The main fact which has made me hate her is that she keepsmy son from me. A creature of her kind should efface herself and let himreturn and take up again the life which is his. It is through her thatwe are parted. I have tried to find him, but I cannot. He must come backand take his place. You may not understand all I tell you, my child, butwhen I die my whole fortune must go to my son. He is my heir. When I diewho will take my place if he is not here? Can you understand what I amsaying, little girl?" said the old man, almost entreatingly.
"I think so, sir," said Perrine gently.
"But there, I don't wish you to understand entirely. There are thosearound me who ought to help me. There are certain ones who do not wantmy boy to return; it is to their interest that he should not come back,so they try to think that he is dead. My boy dead! Could he be? CouldGod strike me such a terrible blow? They try to believe it, but I willnot. No, I will not! It can't be! Oh, what should I do if my boy wasdead!"
Perrine's eyes were no longer fixed on the blind man's face; she hadturned her face from him as though he could see her own.
"I talk to you frankly, little girl," continued the old man, "because Ineed your help. They are going to try and tempt you again to spy forthem. I have warned you; that is all that I can do."
They could now see the factory chimneys of Fercheux. Still a few morerods and they came to the village. Perrine, who was trembling, couldonly find words to say in a broken voice: "Monsieur Vulfran, you maytrust me. I will serve you faithfully with all my heart."
