The Mysteries Of Paris Volume Iii Part 40

"Who could have the heart to think of harming it?"

"They must be downright monsters!"

"Perfect savages!"

"Worse than wild beasts!"

"I told you so," resumed Fleur-de-Marie. "I said you were not intentionally unkind; and you have proved that you are good and pitying towards Mont Saint-Jean. The fault consisted in your not reflecting that, although her child is yet unborn, it is still liable to harm from any mischief that befalls its mother. That is all the wrong you have done."

"All the wrong we have done!" exclaimed La Louve, much excited. "But I say it is not all. You were right, La Goualeuse. We acted like a set of cowards; and you alone deserve to be called courageous, because you did not fear to tell us so, or shrink from us after you had told us. It is nonsense to seek to deny the fact that you are not a creature like us,--it is no use trying to persuade ourselves you are like such beings as we are, so we may as well give it up. I don't like to own it, but it is so; and I may just as well confess it. Just now, when we were all in the wrong, you had courage enough, not only to refuse to join us, but to tell us of our fault."

"That is true enough; and the fair-faced girl must have had a pretty stock of courage to tell us the truth so plainly to our faces."

"But, bless you, these blue-eyed people, who look so soft and gentle, if once they are worked up--"

"They become courageous as lions."

"Poor Mont Saint-Jean! She has good reason to be thankful to her!"

"What she says is true enough. We could not injure the mother without harming the child also."

"I never thought of that."

"Nor I either."

"But you see La Goualeuse did,--she never forgets anything."

"The idea of hurting an infant! horrible! Is it not?"

"I'm sure there is not one of us would do it for anything that could be offered us."

Nothing is more variable than popular pa.s.sion, or more abrupt than its rapid transition from bad to good, and even the reverse. The simple yet touching arguments of Fleur-de-Marie had effected a powerful reaction in favour of Mont Saint-Jean, who shed tears of deep joy. Every heart seemed moved; for, as we have already said, the womanly feelings of the prisoners had been awakened, and they now felt a solicitude for the unhappy creature in proportion as they had formerly held her in dislike and contempt. All at once, La Louve, violent and impetuous in all her actions, twisted the little cap she held in her hand into a sort of purse, and feeling in her pocket brought out twenty sous, which she threw into the purse; then presenting it to her companions, exclaimed:

"Here is my twenty sous towards buying baby clothes for Mont Saint-Jean's child. We will cut them out and make them ourselves, in order that the work may cost nothing."

"Oh, yes, let us."

"To be sure,--let us all join!"

"I will for one."

"What a capital idea!"

"Poor creature!"

"Though she is so frightfully ugly, yet she has a mother's feelings the same as another."

"La Goualeuse was right. It is really enough to make one cry one's eyes out, to see what a wretched collection of rags the poor creature has sc.r.a.ped together for her baby."

"Well, I'll give thirty sous."

"And I ten."

"I'll give twenty sous."

"I've only got four sous, but I'll give them."

"I have no money at all; but I'll sell my allowance for to-morrow, and put whatever any one will give for it into the collection. Who'll buy my to-morrow's rations?"

"I will," said La Louve. "So, here I put in ten sous for you; but you shall keep your rations. And now, Mont Saint-Jean shall have baby clothes fit for a princess."

To express the joy and grat.i.tude of Mont Saint-Jean would be wholly impossible. The most intense delight and happiness illumined her countenance, and rendered even her usual hideous features interesting.

Fleur-de-Marie was almost as happy, though compelled to say, when La Louve handed to her the collecting-cap:

"I am very sorry I have not a single sou of money, but I will work as long as you please at making the clothes."

"Oh, my dear heavenly angel!" cried Mont Saint-Jean, throwing herself on her knees before La Goualeuse, and striving to kiss her hand. "What have I ever done to merit such goodness on your part, or the charity of these kind ladies? Gracious Father! Do I hear aright? Baby things! and all nice and comfortable for my child! A real, proper set of baby clothes!

Everything I can require! Who would ever have thought of such a thing? I am sure I never should. I shall lose my senses with joy! Only to think that a poor, miserable wretch like myself, the make-game of everybody, should all at once, just because you spoke a few soft, sweet words out of that heavenly mouth, have such wonderful blessings! See how your words have changed those who meant to harm me, but who now pity me and are my friends; and I feel as though I could never thank them enough, or express my grat.i.tude! Oh, how very, very kind of them! How wrong of me to be offended and angry with what they said! How stupid and ungrateful I must have been not to perceive that they were only playing with me,--that they had no intention of harming me. Oh, no! It was all meant for my good. Here is a proof of it. Oh, for the future, if they like to knock me about ever so, I will not so much as cry out! Oh, I was too impatient when I complained before; but I will make up for it next time!"

"Eighty-eight francs seven sous!" said La Louve, finishing her reckoning of the collection gathered by handing about the little bonnet. "Who will be treasurer till we lay out the money? We must not entrust it to Mont Saint-Jean, she is too simple."

"Let La Goualeuse take charge of it!" cried a unanimous burst of voices.

"No," said Fleur-de-Marie; "the best way will be to beg of the inspectress, Madame Armand, to take charge of the sum collected, and to buy the necessary articles for Mont Saint-Jean's confinement; and then,--who knows?--perhaps Madame Armand may take notice of the good action you have performed, and report it, so as to be the means of shortening the imprisonment of all whose names are mentioned as being concerned in it. Tell me, La Louve," added Fleur-de-Marie, taking her companion by the arm, "are you not better satisfied with yourself than you were just now, when you were throwing about all Mont Saint-Jean's poor baby's things?"

La Louve did not immediately reply. To the generous excitement which a few moments before animated her features, succeeded a sort of half savage air of defiance. Unable to comprehend the cause of this sudden change, Fleur-de-Marie looked at her with surprise.

"Come here, La Goualeuse," said La Louve at last, with a gloomy tone; "I want to speak to you."

Then abruptly quitting the other prisoners, she led Fleur-de-Marie to a reservoir of water, surrounded by a stone coping, which had been hollowed out in the midst of an adjoining meadow. Near the water was a bench, also of stone, on which La Louve and La Goualeuse placed themselves, and were thus, in a manner, beyond the observation or hearing of their companions.

CHAPTER XI.

LA LOUVE AND LA GOUALEUSE.

We firmly believe in the influence of certain master minds so far sympathising with the ma.s.ses, so powerful over them as to impose on them the bias of good or evil. Some, bold, enthusiastic, indomitable, addressing themselves to the worst pa.s.sions, will rouse them, as the storm raises the foam of the sea; but, like all tempests, these are as ephemeral as they are furious; to these terrible effervescences will succeed the sullen reversion of sadness and restlessness, which will obtain supremacy over the most miserable conditions. The reaction of violence is always severe; the waking after an excess is always painful.

La Louve, if you will, personifies this fatal influence.

Other organisations, more rare, because their generous instincts must be fertilised by intelligence, and with them the mind is on an equality with the heart,--others, we say, will inspire good, as well as some inspire evil. Their wholesome influence will gently penetrate into the soul, as the warm rays of the sun penetrate the body with invigorating heat, as the arid and burning earth imbibes the fresh and grateful dew of night.

Fleur-de-Marie, if you will, personifies this benevolent influence.

The reaction to good is not so sudden as the reaction to evil; its effects are more protracted. It is something delicious, inexplicable, which gradually extends itself, calms and soothes the most hardened heart, and gives it the feeling of inexpressible serenity. Unfortunately the charm ceases.