VIII

WE MUST NOT JUDGE BY APPEARANCES

Let us leave Edouard and his wife for awhile, and return to Brother Jacques, with whom we must become better acquainted.

After his abrupt departure from the garden, Jacques had struck across the fields, and had walked for a long while without paying any heed to the road he was following; his only object was to get away from his brother, whose manners and language had wounded him to the heart. From time to time Jacques muttered a few words; he raised his eyes, stamped violently on the ground and seemed intensely excited. Having arrived in a lovely valley, shaded by ancient walnut trees, Jacques felt the need of rest; he looked about him as if to make sure that no one was following him; everything was calm and peaceful. The peasants working in the fields were the only living things that enlivened the landscape.

Jacques lay down at the foot of a tree, and reviewed in his memory the conversation which he had just had with Edouard.

"Because I look as if I were unfortunate, he treats me with contempt!

Because I wear moustaches, he dares not introduce me to his wife! He offers me money, and does not ask me to live with him! Is that the way a man should treat his brother? Why that contemptuous air? Have I dishonored my father's name? If my manners are rough, my speech is frank and my conscience clear. I may be poor and unfortunate, but never, no, never, will I commit an action for which I would need to blush. I have done foolish things,--youthful escapades, it is true; but I have no shameful offences to reproach myself with, and this that I have here, on my breast, should guarantee me against all reproach, by commanding me never to deserve it."

Thereupon Jacques opened his coat and gazed proudly at the cross of the Legion of Honor, pinned to an old military jacket which he wore underneath. That reward of his valor was his sole consolation; and yet Jacques had concealed the decoration, because he had been for several days past forced to seek hospitality from peasants, who were not always hospitable, and Jacques did not wish to show his cross at the risk of humiliation. He was right; a man who wears a symbol of merit should not be an object of compa.s.sion to other people.

Jacques had his eyes fixed upon his decoration; he was thinking of the day when his colonel had pinned it on his breast; he remembered the battles in which he had taken part, his mind returned to the battlefield, and he saw himself surrounded by his comrades, and marching eagerly against the enemy; the memory of those glorious days revived his depressed spirit, and he forgot his sorrows and his brother's coldness.

At that moment, a young man, dressed very much like Jacques, but whose bright and animated face denoted neither depression nor poverty, came down a hill leading into the valley, whistling a military march, and marking time with a switch on the gooseberry bushes and lilacs which lined the road.

On arriving in the valley, the traveller stopped and looked about in all directions.

"What the deuce! not an inn! not a poor little wine-shop even! I wonder if I have gone astray? I don't see any sign of a village, and I'm as thirsty as one possessed. But no matter! Forward!"

And he began to sing:

"I saw Jeanneton And her pretty little foot I even saw her----"

"Ah! there's someone at last. I say, my friend!"

The traveller's words were addressed to Jacques, who raised his eyes and recognized his faithful comrade; he ran toward him, exclaiming:

"Ah! it is you, is it, my dear Sans-Souci?"

"Why, it's comrade Jacques! Pardieu! I couldn't have better luck; wait till I lie down beside you in the shade of your walnut; I would rather be in the shade of a cask of burgundy; but however, one must accommodate oneself to everything."

"Still the same, Sans-Souci! still cheerful, and fond of good living!"

"Oh! as for that, I shan't change; cheerfulness is the wealth of poor devils like us. You know that I used to sing when we were going into battle! They--let me see--what do they call that?"

"Disbanded."

"Yes, that's it,--they disbanded us; and instead of being soldiers, here we are civilians again! Well, we must make the best of it; besides, we have always behaved well, and if there is any need to defend the country again some day, why then, forward march!"

"Yes, but how are we to live meanwhile?"

"Like other people, by working."

"My poor Sans-Souci! there are some people that live on the fat of the land without ever turning their hand; and others, with the best will in the world to work, can't find any way to earn their living."

"Bah! you always look at the dark side. Didn't your journey turn out well? You came into this region for some purpose."

"Oh! I found more than I expected."

"And you are not satisfied?"

"I have no reason to be. I just saw my brother, and he received me like a beggar."

"Your brother is a wild Indian, whom I would beat with the flat of my sword if I still had one."

"My dress, my face, and my long moustaches--he didn't like any of them."

"That's a great pity! Didn't he see that token of your valor?"

"No, it was out of sight, and I am very glad of it; my brother isn't capable of appreciating what I have here, and I propose to make him blush for his treatment of me some day."

"So your brother is a rich man?"

"Yes, yes."

"A swell?"

"Yes."

"So you have a family, have you?"

"To be sure."

"Ah! that's something I haven't got. I never knew father or mother. I am a natural child; and it doesn't prevent me from going my way with my head up, because my ancestors' brats don't look at me; and besides that, in the days of our first parents, there wasn't any notaries, and that doesn't prevent the descendants of Cain from being very well thought of in the world. In fact our sergeant, who could talk very well when he wasn't tight, told me that love children made their way better than other children; and on that subject quoted a long list of names that I won't undertake to repeat, because I've forgotten them.--But let's return to your business. You never mentioned your family or your adventures to me; we knew each other in the regiment, and we made several campaigns together; we both had the jaundice in Spain, and frozen feet in Russia; and I say that such things are very good at cementing friendship; you won the cross and I didn't--that's the only difference between us; but you well earned it; you saved the colonel's life. But, the excellent man! that didn't prevent his being killed the next day; it was unlucky that you couldn't always be on hand.--Well, after a great many things had happened, they disbanded us! That's a pity, for perhaps we might have become marshals of France. In order to comfort each other, we stayed together, except that you came alone to this village, while I went to a place nearby to look after a little brunette, whom I courted long ago and who swore a bullet-proof fidelity to me!"

"Well, did you find your brunette?"

"Pardieu, yes! Oh! I tell you that there's some a.n.a.logy between our destinies: while your brother was receiving you so cordially, my sweetheart came to me with three children she had had during my absence, and another half way along. You can imagine that there was nothing to say to that. My first impulse was to give her a good thrashing, but I reflected that the poor child might well have thought me dead and that calmed me down. I kissed my faithless one, and while her children were splashing in the mud with the ducks, and her husband cutting wood, we made peace; in fact, we did better than that, for I mean to have something to do with the fourth, which she began while waiting for me; so we parted good friends and I came off!"

"Poor Sans-Souci! Women are no better than men, but men are simply less skilful at concealing their falseness! I have learned to know the world, I tell you, and I ought to have guessed what sort of welcome my brother would have given me. But one always hopes, and that is where one makes a mistake."

"Come, tell me your adventures; we are in the open air, no one can hear us, and no one will disturb us; and while I listen to you, I will rest and smoke a cigar."

"Well! all right; I will tell you what has happened to me since I was fifteen years old, for that was the time that I began my cruising."

Jacques unb.u.t.toned his coat, leaned back against the tree and made ready to relate his adventures to his comrade; while he, having taken a flint and steel from his pocket and lighted a cigar, gravely placed it in his mouth, in order to listen to his companion's narrative with twofold enjoyment.

IX