This one is so very old that I cannot understand how it has clung so vividly1 and tenaciously2 to my memory. Since then I have seen so many sinister3 things, which were either affecting or terrible, that I am astonished at not being able to pass a single day without the face of Mother Bellflower recurring4 to my mind's eye, just as I knew her formerly5, now so long ago, when I was ten or twelve years old.
She was an old seamstress who came to my parents' house once a week, every Thursday, to mend the linen6. My parents lived in one of those country houses called chateaux, which are merely old houses with gable roofs, to which are attached three or four farms lying around them.
The village, a large village, almost a market town, was a few hundred yards away, closely circling the church, a red brick church, black with age.
Well, every Thursday Mother Clochette came between half-past six and seven in the morning, and went immediately into the linen-room and began to work. She was a tall, thin, bearded or rather hairy woman, for she had a beard all over her face, a surprising, an unexpected beard, growing in improbable tufts, in curly bunches which looked as if they had been sown by a madman over that great face of a gendarme7 in petticoats. She had them on her nose, under her nose, round her nose, on her chin, on her cheeks; and her eyebrows8, which were extraordinarily9 thick and long, and quite gray, bushy and bristling10, looked exactly like a pair of mustaches stuck on there by mistake.
She limped, not as lame11 people generally do, but like a ship at anchor. When she planted her great, bony, swerving12 body on her sound leg, she seemed to be preparing to mount some enormous wave, and then suddenly she dipped as if to disappear in an abyss, and buried herself in the ground. Her walk reminded one of a storm, as she swayed about, and her head, which was always covered with an enormous white cap, whose ribbons fluttered down her back, seemed to traverse the horizon from north to south and from south to north, at each step.
I adored Mother Clochette. As soon as I was up I went into the linen-room where I found her installed at work, with a foot-warmer under her feet. As soon as I arrived, she made me take the foot-warmer and sit upon it, so that I might not catch cold in that large, chilly13 room under the roof.
“That draws the blood from your throat,” she said to me.
She told me stories, whilst mending the linen with her long crooked14 nimble fingers; her eyes behind her magnifying spectacles, for age had impaired15 her sight, appeared enormous to me, strangely profound, double.
She had, as far as I can remember the things which she told me and by which my childish heart was moved, the large heart of a poor woman. She told me what had happened in the village, how a cow had escaped from the cow-house and had been found the next morning in front of Prosper16 Malet's windmill, looking at the sails turning, or about a hen's egg which had been found in the church belfry without any one being able to understand what creature had been there to lay it, or the story of Jean-Jean Pila's dog, who had been ten leagues to bring back his master's breeches which a tramp had stolen whilst they were hanging up to dry out of doors, after he had been in the rain. She told me these simple adventures in such a manner, that in my mind they assumed the proportions of never-to-be-forgotten dramas, of grand and mysterious poems; and the ingenious stories invented by the poets which my mother told me in the evening, had none of the flavor, none of the breadth or vigor17 of the peasant woman's narratives18.
Well, one Tuesday, when I had spent all the morning in listening to Mother Clochette, I wanted to go upstairs to her again during the day after picking hazelnuts with the manservant in the wood behind the farm. I remember it all as clearly as what happened only yesterday.
On opening the door of the linen-room, I saw the old seamstress lying on the ground by the side of her chair, with her face to the ground and her arms stretched out, but still holding her needle in one hand and one of my shirts in the other. One of her legs in a blue stocking, the longer one, no doubt, was extended under her chair, and her spectacles glistened19 against the wall, as they had rolled away from her.
I ran away uttering shrill20 cries. They all came running, and in a few minutes I was told that Mother Clochette was dead.
I cannot describe the profound, poignant21, terrible emotion which stirred my childish heart. I went slowly down into the drawing-room and hid myself in a dark corner, in the depths of an immense old armchair, where I knelt down and wept. I remained there a long time, no doubt, for night came on. Suddenly somebody came in with a lamp, without seeing me, however, and I heard my father and mother talking with the medical man, whose voice I recognized.
He had been sent for immediately, and he was explaining the causes of the accident, of which I understood nothing, however. Then he sat down and had a glass of liqueur and a biscuit.
He went on talking, and what he then said will remain engraved22 on my mind until I die! I think that I can give the exact words which he used.
“Ah!” said he, “the poor woman! She broke her leg the day of my arrival here, and I had not even had time to wash my hands after getting off the diligence before I was sent for in all haste, for it was a bad case, very bad.
“She was seventeen, and a pretty girl, very pretty! Would any one believe it? I have never told her story before, and nobody except myself and one other person who is no longer living in this part of the country ever knew it. Now that she is dead, I may be less discreet23.
“Just then a young assistant-teacher came to live in the village; he was a handsome, well-made fellow, and looked like a non-commissioned officer. All the girls ran after him, but he paid no attention to them, partly because he was very much afraid of his superior, the schoolmaster, old Grabu, who occasionally got out of bed the wrong foot first.
“Old Grabu already employed pretty Hortense who has just died here, and who was afterwards nicknamed Clochette. The assistant master singled out the pretty young girl, who was, no doubt, flattered at being chosen by this impregnable conqueror24; at any rate, she fell in love with him, and he succeeded in persuading her to give him a first meeting in the hay-loft25 behind the school, at night, after she had done her day's sewing.
“She pretended to go home, but instead of going downstairs when she left the Grabus' she went upstairs and hid among the hay, to wait for her lover. He soon joined her, and was beginning to say pretty things to her, when the door of the hay-loft opened and the schoolmaster appeared, and asked: 'What are you doing up there, Sigisbert?' Feeling sure that he would be caught, the young schoolmaster lost his presence of mind and replied stupidly: 'I came up here to rest a little amongst the bundles of hay, Monsieur Grabu.'
“The loft was very large and absolutely dark, and Sigisbert pushed the frightened girl to the further end and said: 'Go over there and hide yourself. I shall lose my position, so get away and hide yourself.'
“When the schoolmaster heard the whispering, he continued: 'Why, you are not by yourself?' 'Yes, I am, Monsieur Grabu!' 'But you are not, for you are talking.' 'I swear I am, Monsieur Grabu.' 'I will soon find out,' the old man replied, and double locking the door, he went down to get a light.
“Then the young man, who was a coward such as one frequently meets, lost his head, and becoming furious all of a sudden, he repeated: 'Hide yourself, so that he may not find you. You will keep me from making a living for the rest of my life; you will ruin my whole career. Do hide yourself!' They could hear the key turning in the lock again, and Hortense ran to the window which looked out on the street, opened it quickly, and then said in a low and determined26 voice: 'You will come and pick me up when he is gone,' and she jumped out.
“Old Grabu found nobody, and went down again in great surprise, and a quarter of an hour later, Monsieur Sigisbert came to me and related his adventure. The girl had remained at the foot of the wall unable to get up, as she had fallen from the second story, and I went with him to fetch her. It was raining in torrents27, and I brought the unfortunate girl home with me, for the right leg was broken in three places, and the bones had come trough the flesh. She did not complain, and merely said, with admirable resignation: 'I am punished, well punished!'
“I sent for assistance and for the work-girl's relatives and told them a made-up story of a runaway28 carriage which had knocked her down and lamed29 her outside my door. They believed me, and the gendarmes30 for a whole month tried in vain to find the author of this accident.
“That is all! And I say that this woman was a heroine and belonged to the race of those who accomplish the grandest deeds of history.
“That was her only love affair, and she died a virgin31. She was a martyr32, a noble soul, a sublimely33 devoted34 woman! And if I did not absolutely admire her, I should not have told you this story, which I would never tell any one during her life; you understand why.”
The doctor ceased. Mamma cried and papa said some words which I did not catch; then they left the room and I remained on my knees in the armchair and sobbed35, whilst I heard a strange noise of heavy footsteps and something knocking against the side of the staircase.
They were carrying away Clochette's body.
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1
vividly
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| adv.清楚地，鲜明地，生动地 | |
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tenaciously
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| 坚持地 | |
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sinister
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| adj.不吉利的，凶恶的，左边的 | |
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recurring
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| adj.往复的，再次发生的 | |
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5
formerly
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| adv.从前，以前 | |
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6
linen
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| n.亚麻布，亚麻线，亚麻制品；adj.亚麻布制的，亚麻的 | |
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7
gendarme
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| n.宪兵 | |
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8
eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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9
extraordinarily
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| adv.格外地；极端地 | |
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bristling
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| a.竖立的 | |
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11
lame
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| adj.跛的，(辩解、论据等)无说服力的 | |
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12
swerving
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| v.（使）改变方向，改变目的( swerve的现在分词 ) | |
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chilly
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| adj.凉快的，寒冷的 | |
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14
crooked
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| adj.弯曲的；不诚实的，狡猾的，不正当的 | |
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15
impaired
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| adj.受损的；出毛病的；有（身体或智力）缺陷的v.损害，削弱( impair的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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16
prosper
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| v.成功，兴隆，昌盛；使成功，使昌隆，繁荣 | |
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17
vigor
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| n.活力，精力，元气 | |
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18
narratives
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| 记叙文( narrative的名词复数 )； 故事； 叙述； 叙述部分 | |
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19
glistened
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| v.湿物闪耀，闪亮( glisten的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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20
shrill
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| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
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21
poignant
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| adj.令人痛苦的，辛酸的，惨痛的 | |
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22
engraved
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| v.在（硬物）上雕刻（字，画等）( engrave的过去式和过去分词 )；将某事物深深印在（记忆或头脑中） | |
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23
discreet
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| adj.(言行)谨慎的；慎重的；有判断力的 | |
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24
conqueror
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| n.征服者，胜利者 | |
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25
loft
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| n.阁楼，顶楼 | |
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26
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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27
torrents
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| n.倾注；奔流( torrent的名词复数 )；急流；爆发；连续不断 | |
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28
runaway
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| n.逃走的人，逃亡，亡命者；adj.逃亡的，逃走的 | |
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29
lamed
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| 希伯莱语第十二个字母 | |
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30
gendarmes
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| n.宪兵，警官( gendarme的名词复数 ) | |
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31
virgin
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| n.处女，未婚女子；adj.未经使用的；未经开发的 | |
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32
martyr
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| n.烈士，殉难者；vt.杀害，折磨，牺牲 | |
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33
sublimely
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| 高尚地，卓越地 | |
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34
devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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35
sobbed
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| 哭泣，啜泣( sob的过去式和过去分词 )； 哭诉，呜咽地说 | |
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