第72章

Cowardice is like courage; of both there are various kinds.Bonnebault would have fought like a brave soldier, but he was weak in presence of his vices and his desires.Lazy as a lizard, that is to say, active only when it suited him, without the slightest decency, arrogant and base, able for much but neglectful of all, the sole pleasure of this "breaker of hearts and plates," to use a barrack term, was to do evil or inflict damage.Such a nature does as much harm in rural communities as it does in a regiment.Bonnebault, like Tonsard and like Fourchon, desired to live well and do nothing; and he had his plans laid.Making the most of his gallant appearance with increasing success, and of his talents for billiards with alternate loss and gain, he flattered himself that the day would come when he could marry Mademoiselle Aglae Socquard, only daughter of the proprietor of the Cafe de la Paix, a resort which was to Soulanges what, relatively speaking, Ranelagh is to the Bois de Boulogne.To get into the business of tavern-keeping, to manage the public balls, what a fine career for the marshal's baton of a ne'er-do-well! These morals, this life, this nature, were so plainly stamped upon the face of the low-

lived profligate that the countess was betrayed into an exclamation when she beheld the pair, for they gave her the sensation of beholding snakes.

Marie, desperately in love with Bonnebault, would have robbed for his benefit.Those moustachios, the swaggering gait of a trooper, the fellow's smart clothes, all went to her heart as the manners and charms of a de Marsay touch that of a pretty Parisian.Each social sphere has its own standard of distinction.The jealous Marie rebuffed Amaury Lupin, the other dandy of the little town, her mind being made up to become Madame Bonnebault.

"Hey! you there, hi! come on!" cried Nicolas and Catherine from afar, catching sight of Marie and Bonnebault.

The sharp call echoed through the woods like the cry of savages.

Seeing the pair at his feet, Michaud shuddered and deeply repented having spoken.If Bonnebault and Marie Tonsard had overheard the conversation, nothing but harm could come of it.This event, insignificant as it seems, was destined, in the irritated state of feeling then existing between Les Aigues and the peasantry, to have a decisive influence on the fate of all,--just as victory or defeat in battle sometimes depends upon a brook which shepherds jump while cannon are unable to pass it.

Gallantly bowing to the countess, Bonnebault passed Marie's arm through his own with a conquering air and took himself off triumphantly.

"The King of Hearts of the valley," muttered Michaud to the countess.

"A dangerous man.When he loses twenty francs at billiards he would murder Rigou to get them back.He loves a crime as he does a pleasure."

"I have seen enough for to-day; take me home, gentlemen," murmured the countess, putting her hand on Emile's arm.

She bowed sadly to Madame Michaud, after watching La Pechina safely back to the pavilion.Olympe's depression was transferred to her mistress.

"Ah, madame," said the abbe, as they continued their way, "can it be that the difficulty of doing good is about to deter you? For the last five years I have slept on a pallet in a parsonage which has no furniture; I say mass in a church without believers; I preach to no hearers; I minister without fees or salary; I live on the six hundred francs the law allows me, asking nothing of my bishop, and I give the third of that in charity.Still, I am not hopeless.If you knew what my winters are in this place you would understand the strength of those words,--I am not hopeless.I keep myself warm with the belief that we can save this valley and bring it back to God.No matter for ourselves, madame; think of the future! If it is our duty to say to the poor, 'Learn how to be poor; that is, how to work, to endure, to strive,' it is equally our duty to say to the rich, 'Learn your duty as prosperous men,'--that is to say, 'Be wise, be intelligent in your benevolence; pious and virtuous in the place to which God has called you.' Ah! madame, you are only the steward of Him who grants you wealth; if you do not obey His behests you will never transmit to your children the prosperity He gives you.You will rob your posterity.If you follow in the steps of that poor singer's selfishness, which caused the evils that now terrify us, you will bring back the scaffolds on which your fathers died for the faults of their fathers.

To do good humbly, in obscurity, in country solitudes, as Rigou now does evil,--ah! that indeed is prayer in action and dear to God.If in every district three souls only would work for good, France, our country, might be saved from the abyss that yawns; into which we are rushing headlong, through spiritual indifference to all that is not our own self-interest.Change! you must change your morals, change your ethics, and that will change your laws."

Though deeply moved as she listened to this grand utterance of true catholic charity, the countess answered in the fatal words, "We will consider it,"--words of the rich, which contain that promise to the ear which saves their purses and enables them to stand with arms crossed in presence of all disaster, under pretext that they were powerless.

Hearing those words, the abbe bowed to Madame de Montcornet and turned off into a path which led him direct to the gate of Blangy.

"Belshazzar's feast is the everlasting symbol of the dying days of a caste, of an oligarchy, of a power!" he thought as he walked away."My God! if it be Thy will to loose the poor like a torrent to reform society, I know, I comprehend, why it is that Thou hast abandoned the wealthy to their blindness!"