original short stories-6-第14部分

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river；　hidden　by　the　thick　fog；　was　full　of　strange　creatures　which　were
swimming　all　around　me。　　I　felt　horribly　uncomfortable；　my　forehead　felt
as　if　it　had　a　tight　band　round　it；　my　heart　beat　so　that　it　almost
suffocated　me；　and；　almost　beside　myself；　I　thought　of　swimming　away　from
the　place。　　But　then；　again；　the　very　idea　made　me　tremble　with　fear。　　I
saw　myself；　lost；　going　by　guesswork　in　this　heavy　fog；　struggling　about
amid　the　grasses　and　reeds　which　I　could　not　escape；　my　breath　rattling
with　fear；　neither　seeing　the　bank；　nor　finding　my　boat；　and　it　seemed　as
if　I　would　feel　myself　dragged　down　by　the　feet　to　the　bottom　of　these
black　waters。

In　fact；　as　I　should　have　had　to　ascend　the　stream　at　least　five　hundred
metres　before　finding　a　spot　free　from　grasses　and　rushes　where　I　could
land；　there　were　nine　chances　to　one　that　I　could　not　find　my　way　in　the
fog　and　that　I　should　drown；　no　matter　how　well　I　could　swim。

I　tried　to　reason　with　myself。　　My　will　made　me　resolve　not　to　be　afraid；
but　there　was　something　in　me　besides　my　will；　and　that　other　thing　was
afraid。　　I　asked　myself　what　there　was　to　be　afraid　of。　　My　brave　〃ego〃
ridiculed　my　coward　〃ego；〃　and　never　did　I　realize；　as　on　that　day；　the
existence　in　us　of　two　rival　personalities；　one　desiring　a　thing；　the
other　resisting；　and　each　winning　the　day　in　turn。

This　stupid；　inexplicable　fear　increased；　and　became　terror。　　I　remained
motionless；　my　eyes　staring；　my　ears　on　the　stretch　with　expectation。　　Of
what？　　I　did　not　know；　but　it　must　be　something　terrible。　　I　believe　if
it　had　occurred　to　a　fish　to　jump　out　of　the　water；　as　often　happens；
nothing　more　would　have　been　required　to　make　me　fall　over；　stiff　and
unconscious。

However；　by　a　violent　effort　I　succeeded　in　becoming　almost　rational
again。　　I　took　up　my　bottle　of　rum　and　took　several　pulls。　　Then　an　idea
came　to　me；　and　I　began　to　shout　with　all　my　might　towards　all　the　points
of　the　compass　in　succession。　　When　my　throat　was　absolutely　paralyzed　I
listened。　　A　dog　was　howling；　at　a　great　distance。

I　drank　some　more　rum　and　stretched　myself　out　at　the　bottom　of　the　boat。
I　remained　there　about　an　hour；　perhaps　two；　not　sleeping；　my　eyes　wide
open；　with　nightmares　all　about　me。　　I　did　not　dare　to　rise；　and　yet　I
intensely　longed　to　do　so。　　I　delayed　it　from　moment　to　moment。　　I　said
to　myself：　〃Come；　get　up！〃　and　I　was　afraid　to　move。　　At　last　I　raised
myself　with　infinite　caution　as　though　my　life　depended　on　the　slightest
sound　that　I　might　make；　and　looked　over　the　edge　of　the　boat。
I　was　dazzled　by　the　most　marvellous；　the　most　astonishing　sight　that　it
is　possible　to　see。　　It　was　one　of　those　phantasmagoria　of　fairyland；　one
of　those　sights　described　by　travellers　on　their　return　from　distant
lands；　whom　we　listen　to　without　believing。

The　fog　which；　two　hours　before；　had　floated　on　the　water；　had　gradually
cleared　off　and　massed　on　the　banks；　leaving　the　river　absolutely　clear；
while　it　formed　on　either　bank　an　uninterrupted　wall　six　or　seven　metres
high；　which　shone　in　the　moonlight　with　the　dazzling　brilliance　of　snow。
One　saw　nothing　but　the　river　gleaming　with　light　between　these　two　white
mountains；　and　high　above　my　head　sailed　the　great　full　moon；　in　the
midst　of　a　bluish；　milky　sky。

All　the　creatures　in　the　water　were　awake。　　The　frogs　croaked　furiously；
while　every　few　moments　I　heard；　first　to　the　right　and　then　to　the　left；
the　abrupt；　monotonous　and　mournful　metallic　note　of　the　bullfrogs。
Strange　to　say；　I　was　no　longer　afraid。　　I　was　in　the　midst　of　such　an
unusual　landscape　that　the　most　remarkable　things　would　not　have
astonished　me。

How　long　this　lasted　I　do　not　know；　for　I　ended　by　falling　asleep。　　When
I　opened　my　eyes　the　moon　had　gone　down　and　the　sky　was　full　of　clouds。
The　water　lapped　mournfully；　the　wind　was　blowing；　it　was　pitch　dark。
I　drank　the　rest　of　the　rum；　then　listened；　while　I　trembled；　to　the
rustling　of　the　reeds　and　the　foreboding　sound　of　the　river。　　I　tried　to
see；　but　could　not　distinguish　my　boat；　nor　even　my　hands；　which　I　held
up　close　to　my　eyes。

Little　by　little；　however；　the　blackness　became　less　intense。　　All　at
once　I　thought　I　noticed　a　shadow　gliding　past；　quite　near　me。　　I
shouted；　a　voice　replied；　it　was　a　fisherman。　　I　called　him；　he　came　near
and　I　told　him　of　my　ill…luck。　　He　rowed　his　boat　alongside　of　mine　and；
together；　we　pulled　at　the　anchor　chain。　　The　anchor　did　not　move。　　Day
came；　gloomy　gray；　rainy　and　cold；　one　of　those　days　that　bring　one
sorrows　and　misfortunes。　　I　saw　another　boat。　　We　hailed　it。　　The　man　on
board　of　her　joined　his　efforts　to　ours；　and　gradually　the　anchor
yielded。　　It　rose；　but　slowly；　slowly；　loaded　down　by　a　considerable
weight。　　At　length　we　perceived　a　black　mass　and　we　drew　it　on　board。
It　was　the　corpse　of　an　old　women　with　a　big　stone　round　her　neck。






THE　CRIPPLE

The　following　adventure　happened　to　me　about　1882。　　I　had　just　taken　the
train　and　settled　down　in　a　corner；　hoping　that　I　should　be　left　alone；
when　the　door　suddenly　opened　again　and　I　heard　a　voice　say：　〃Take　care；
monsieur；　we　are　just　at　a　crossing；　the　step　is　very　high。〃

Another　voice　answered：　〃That's　all　right；　Laurent；　I　have　a　firm　hold　on
the　handle。〃

Then　a　head　appeared；　and　two　hands　seized　the　leather　straps　hanging　on
either　side　of　the　door　and　slowly　pulled　up　an　enormous　body；　whose　feet
striking　on　the　step；　sounded　like　two　canes。　　When　the　man　had　hoisted
his　torso　into　the　compartment　I　noticed；　at　the　loose　edge　of　his
trousers；　the　end　of　a　wooden　leg；　which　was　soon　followed　by　its　mate。
A　head　appeared　behind　this　traveller　and　asked；　〃Are　you　all　right；
monsieur？〃

〃Yes；　my　boy。〃

〃Then　here　are　your　packages　and　crutches。〃

And　a　servant；　who　looked　like　an　old　soldier；　climbed　in；　carrying　in
his　arms　a　stack　of　bundles　wrapped　in　black　and　yellow　papers　and
carefully　tied；　he　placed　one　after　the　other　in　the　net　over　his
master's　head。　　Then　he　said：　〃There；　monsieur；　that　is　all。　　There　are
five　of　themthe　candy；　the　doll　the　drum；　the　gun；　and　the　pate　de
foies　gras。〃

〃Very　well；　my　boy。〃

〃Thank　you；　Laurent；　good　health！〃

The　man　closed　the　door　and　walked　away；　and　I　looked　at　my　neighbor。
He　was　about　thirty…five；　although　his　hair　was　almost　white；　he　wore　the
ribbon　of　the　Legion　of　Honor；　he　had　a　heavy　mustache　and　was　quite
stout；　with　the　stoutness　of　a　strong　and　active　man　who　is　kept
motionless　on　account　of　some　infirmity。　　He　wiped　his　brow；　sighed；　and；
looking　me　full　in　the　face；　he　asked：　〃Does　smoking　annoy　you；
monsieur？〃

〃No；　monsieur。〃

Surely　I　knew　that　eye；　that　voice；　that　face。　　But　when　and　where　had　I
seen　them？　I　had　certainly　met　that　man；　spoken　to　him；　shaken　his　hand。
That　was　a　long；　long　time　ago。　　It　was　lost　in　the　haze　wherein　the　mind
seems　to　feel　around　blindly　for　memories　and　pursues　them　like　fleeing
phantoms　without　being　able　to　seize　them。　　He；　too；　was　observing　me；
staring　me　out　of　countenance；　with　the　persistence　of　a　man　who
remembers　slightly　but　not　completely。　　Our　eyes；　embarrassed　by　this
persistent　contact；　turned　away；　then；　after　a　few　minutes；　drawn
together　again　by　the　obscure　and　tenacious　will　of　working　memory；　they
met　once　more；　and　I　said：　〃Monsieur；　instead　of　staring　at　each　other
for　an　hour　or　so；　would　it　not　be　better　to　try　to　discover　where　we
have　known　each　other？〃

My　neighbor　answered　graciously：　〃You　are　quite　right；　monsieur。〃

I　named　myself：　〃I　am　Henri　Bonclair；　a　magistrate。〃

He　hesitated　for　a　few　minutes；　then；　with　the　vague　look　and　voice　which
accompany　great　mental　tension；　he　said：　〃Oh；　I　remember　perfectly。
I　met　you　twelve　years　ago；　before　the　war；　at　the　Poincels！〃

〃Yes；　monsieur。　　Ah！　Ah！　　You　are　Lieutenant　Revaliere？〃

〃Yes。　　I　was　Captain　Revaliere　even　up　to　the　time　when　I　lost　my　feet
both　of　them　together　from　one　cannon　ball。〃

Now　that　we　knew　each　other's　identity　we　looked　at　each　other　again。
I　remembered　perfectly　the　handsome；　slender　youth　who　led　the　cotillons
with　such　frenzied　agility　and　gracefulness　that　he　had　been　nicknamed
〃the　fury。〃　　Going　back　into　the　dim；　distant　past；　I　recalled　a　story
which　I　had　heard　and　forgotten；　one　of　those　stories　to　which　one
listens　but　forgets；　and　which　leave　but　a　faint　impression　upon　the
memory。

There　was　something　about　love　in　it。　　Little　by　little　the　shadows
cleared　up；　and　the　face　of　a　young　girl　appeared　before　my　eyes。　　Then
her　name　struck　me　with　the　force　of　an　explosion：　Mademoiselle　de
Mandel。　　I　remembered　everything　now。　　It　was　indeed　a　love　story；　but
quite　commonplace。　　The　young　girl　loved　this　young　man；　and　when　I　had
met　them　there　was　already　talk　of　the　approaching　wedding。　　The　youth
seemed　to　be　very　much　in　love；　very　happy。

I　raised　my　eye　to　the　net；　where　all　the　packages　which　had　been　brought
in　by　the　servant　were　trembling　from　the　motion　of　the　train；　and　the
voice　of　the　servant　came　back　to　me；　as　if　he　had　just　finished
speaking。　　He　had　said：　〃There；　monsieur；　that　is　all。　　There　are　five　of
them：　the　candy；　the　doll；　the　drum；　the　gun；　and　the　pate　de　foies
gras。〃

Then；　in　a　second；　a　whole　romance　unfolded　itself　in　my　head。　　It　was
like　all　those　which　I　had　already　read；　where　the　young　lady　married
notwithstanding　the　catastrophe；　whether　physical　or　financial；
therefore；　this　officer　who　had　been　maimed　in　the　war　had　returned；
after　the　campaign；　to　the　young　girl　who　had　given　him　her　promise；　and
she　had　kept　her　word。

I　considered　that　very　beautiful；　but　simple；　just　as　one；　considers
simple　all　devotions　and　climaxes　in　books　or　in　plays。　　It　always　seems；
when　one　reads　or　listens　to　these　stories　of　magnanimity；　that　one　could
sacrifice　one's　self　with　enthusiastic　pleasure　and　overwhelming　joy。
But　the　following　day；　when　an　unfortunate　friend　comes　to　borrow　some
money；　there　is　a　strange　revulsion　of　feeling。

But；　suddenly；　another　supposition；　less　poetic　and　more　realistic；
replaced　the　first　one。　　Perhaps　he　had　married　before　the　war；　before
this　frightful　accident；　and　she；　in　d