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an unsatisfactory remark made by his nephew; and who dreamed all

night about the chances of pecuniary loss augured by the latter's

return。



It was midnight before the husband and wife were alone and able to

give vent to their feelings。  Bertrande still felt half stupefied;

she could not believe her own eyes and ears; nor realise that she saw

again in her marriage chamber her husband of eight years ago; him for

whom she had wept; whose death she had deplored only a few hours

previously。  In the sudden shock caused by so much joy succeeding so

much grief; she had not been able to express what she felt; her

confused ideas were difficult to explain; and she seemed deprived of

the powers of speech and reflection。  When she became calmer and more

capable of analysing her feelings; she was astonished not to feel

towards her husband the same affection which had moved her so

strongly a few hours before。  It was certainly himself; those were

the same features; that was the man to whom she had willingly given

her hand; her heart; herself; and yet now that she saw him again a

cold barrier of shyness; of modesty; seemed to have risen between

them。  His first kiss; even; had not made her happy: she blushed and

felt saddeneda curious result of the long absence!  She could not

define the changes wrought by years in his appearance: his

countenance seemed harsher; yet the lines of his face; his outer man;

his whole personality; did not seem altered; but his soul had changed

its nature; a different mind looked forth from those eyes。  Bertrande

knew him for her husband; and yet she hesitated。  Even so Penelope;

on the; return of Ulysses; required a certain proof to confirm the

evidence of her eyes; and her long absent husband had to remind her

of secrets known only to herself。



Martin; however; as if he understood Bertrande's feeling and divined

some secret mistrust; used the most tender and affectionate phrases;

and even the very pet names which close intimacy had formerly

endeared to them。



〃My queen;〃 he said; 〃my beautiful dove; can you not lay aside your

resentment?  Is it still so strong that no submission can soften it?

Cannot my repentance find grace in your eyes?  My Bertrande; my

Bertha; my Bertranilla; as I used to call you。〃



She tried to smile; but stopped short; puzzled; the names were the

very same; but the inflexion of voice quite different。



Martin took her hands in his。  〃What pretty hands!  Do you still wear

my ring?  Yes; here it is; and with it the sapphire ring I gave you

the day Sanxi was born。〃



Bertrande did not answer; but she took the child and placed him in

his father's arms。



Martin showered caresses on his son; and spoke of the time when he

carried him as a baby in the garden; lifting him up to the fruit

trees; so that he could reach and try to bite the fruit。  He

recollected one day when the poor child got his leg terribly torn by

thorns; and convinced himself; not without emotion; that the scar

could still be seen。



Bertrande was touched by this display of affectionate recollections;

and felt vexed at her own coldness。  She came up to Martin and laid

her hand in his。  He said gently



〃My departure caused you great grief: I now repent what I did。  But I

was young; I was proud; and your reproaches were unjust。〃



〃Ah;〃 said she; 〃you have not forgotten the cause of our quarrel?〃



〃It was little Rose; our neighbour; whom you said I was making love

to; because you found us together at the spring in the little wood。

I explained that we met only by chance;besides; she was only a

child;but you would not listen; and in your anger〃



〃Ah! forgive me; Martin; forgive me!〃 she interrupted; in confusion。



〃In your blind anger you took up; I know not what; something which

lay handy; and flung it at me。  And here is the mark;〃 he continued;

smiling; 〃 this scar; which is still to be seen。〃



〃Oh; Martin!  〃Bertrande exclaimed; 〃can you ever forgive me?〃



〃As you see;〃 Martin replied; kissing her tenderly。



Much moved; Bertrande swept aside his hair; and looked at the scar

visible on his forehead。



〃But;〃 she said; with surprise not free from alarm; 〃this scar seems

to me like a fresh one。〃



〃Ah!〃 Martin explained; with a; little embarrassment; 〃it reopened

lately。  But I had thought no more about it。  Let us forget it;

Bertrande; I should not like a recollection which might make you

think yourself less dear to me than you once were。〃



And he drew her upon his knee。  She repelled him gently。



〃Send the child to bed;〃 said Martin。  〃Tomorrow shall be for him;

to…night you have the first place; Bertrande; you only。〃



The boy kissed his father and went。



Bertrande came and knelt beside her husband; regarding him

attentively with an uneasy smile; which did not appear to please him

by any means。



〃What is the matter?〃 said he。  〃Why do you examine me thus?〃



〃I do not knowforgive me; oh!  forgive me!  。  。  。  But the

happiness of seeing you was so great and unexpected; it is all like a

dream。  I must try to become accustomed to it; give me some time to

collect myself; let me spend this night in prayer。  I ought to offer

my joy and my thanksgiving to Almighty God〃



〃Not so;〃 interrupted her husband; passing his arms round her neck

and stroking her beautiful hair。  〃No; 'tis to me that your first

thoughts are due。  After so much weariness; my rest is in again

beholding you; and my happiness after so many trials will be found in

your love。  That hope has supported me throughout; and I long to be

assured that it is no illusion。〃  So saying; he endeavoured to raise

her。



〃Oh;〃 she murmured; 〃I pray you leave me。〃



〃What!〃 he exclaimed angrily。  〃 Bertrande; is this your love?  Is it

thus you keep faith with me? You will make me doubt the evidence of

your friends; you will make me think that indifference; or even

another love〃



〃You insult me;〃 said Bertrande; rising to her feet。



He caught her in his arms。  〃No; no; I think nothing which could

wound you; my queen; and I believe your fidelity; even as before; you

know; on that first journey; when you wrote me these loving letters

which I have treasured ever since。  Here they are。〃  And he drew

forth some papers; on which Bertrande recognised her own handwriting。

〃Yes;〃 he continued; 〃I have read and …re…read them。。。。  See; you

spoke then of your love and the sorrows of absence。  But why all this

trouble and terror?  You tremble; just as you did when I first

received you from your father's hands。。。。  It was here; in this very

room。。。。  You begged me then to leave you; to let you spend the night

in prayer; but I insisted; do you remember? and pressed you to my

heart; as I do now。〃



〃Oh;〃 she murmured weakly; 〃have pity!〃



But the words were intercepted by a kiss; and the remembrance of the

past; the happiness of the present; resumed their sway; the imaginary

terrors were forgotten; and the curtains closed around the marriage…

bed。



The next day was a festival in the village of Artigues。  Martin

returned the visits of all who had come to welcome him the previous

night; and there were endless recognitions and embracings。  The young

men remembered that he had played with them when they were little;

the old men; that they had been at his wedding when he was only

twelve。



The women remembered having envied Bertrande; especially the pretty

Rose; daughter of Marcel; the apothecary; she who had roused the

demon of jealousy in; the poor wife's heart。  And Rose knew quite

well that the jealousy was not without some cause; for Martin had

indeed shown her attention; and she was unable to see him again

without emotion。  She was now the wife of a rich peasant; ugly; old;

and jealous; and she compared; sighing; her unhappy lot with that of

her more fortunate neighbour。  Martin's sisters detained him amongst

them; and spoke of their childish games and of their parents; both

dead in Biscay。  Martin dried the tears which flowed at these

recollections of the past; and turned their thoughts to rejoicing。

Banquets were given and received。  Martin invited all his relations

and former friends; an easy gaiety prevailed。  It was remarked that

the hero of the feast refrained from wine; he was thereupon

reproached; but answered that on account of the wounds he had

received he was obliged to avoid excess。  The excuse was admitted;

the result of Martin's precautions being that he kept a clear head on

his shoulders; while all the rest had their tongues loosed by

drunkenness。



〃Ah!〃 exclaimed one of the guests; who had studied a little medicine;

〃Martin is quite right to be afraid of drink。  Wounds which have

thoroughly healed may be reopened and inflamed by intemperance; and

wine in the case of recent wounds is deadly poison。  Men have died on

the field of battle in an hour or two merely because they had


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