stories by english authors in france(旅法英国作家的故事)-第11节
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Berlin； and the people believed and laughed and chattered； and； standing
outside their doors in the cool nights； thought that some good had come to
them and theirs。
Only Reine Allix looked up to the hill above the river and murmured；
〃When we lit the bonfire there； Claudis lay dead；〃 and Bernadou； standing
musing among his roses； said； with a smile that was very grave； 〃Margot；
see here！ When Picot shouted； '/A Berlin！/' he trod on my Gloire de Dijon
rose and killed it。〃
The sultry heats and cloudless nights of the wondrous and awful
summer of the year 1870 passed by； and to the Berceau de Dieu it was a
summer of fair promise and noble harvest； and never had the land brought
forth in richer profusion for man and beast。 Some of the youngest and
ablest… bodied labourers were indeed drawn away to join those swift trains
that hurried thousands and tens of thousands to the frontier by the Rhine。
But most of the male population were married； and were the fathers of
young children； and the village was only moved to a thrill of love and of
honest pride to think how its young Louis and Jean and Andre and
Valentin were gone full of high hope and high spirit； to come back；
maybe；who could say not？with epaulets and ribbons of honour。 Why
they were gone they knew not very clearly； but their superiors affirmed
that they were gone to make greater the greatness of France； and the folk
of the Berceau believed it； having in a corner of their quiet hearts a certain
vague； dormant； yet deep…rooted love； on which was written the name of
their country。
News came slowly and seldom to the Berceau。 Unless some one of the
men rode his mule to the little town； which was but very rarely； or unless
some peddler came through the village with a news…sheet or so in his pack
or rumours and tidings on his lips； nothing that was done beyond its fields
and woods came to it。 And the truth of what it heard it had no means of
measuring or sifting。 It believed what it was told； without questioning； and
as it reaped the harvests in the rich hot sun of August； its peasants
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laboured cheerily in the simple and firm belief that mighty things were
being done for them and theirs in the far eastern provinces by their great
army； and that Louis and Jean and Andre and Valentin and the restthough
indeed no tidings had been heard of themwere safe and well and glorious
somewhere； away where the sun rose； in the sacked palaces of the German
king。 Reine Allix alone of them was serious and sorrowful； she whose
memories stretched back over the wide space of near a century。
〃Why art thou anxious； /gran'mere/？〃 they said to her。 〃There is no
cause。 Our army is victorious everywhere； and they say our lads will send
us all the Prussians' corn and cattle； so that the very beggars will have their
stomachs full。〃
But Reine Allix shook her head； sitting knitting in the sun。 〃My
children； I remember the days of my youth。 Our army was victorious then；
at least； they said so。 Well； all I know is that little Claudis and the boys
with him never came back； and as for bread； you could not get it for love
or money； and the people lay dead of famine out on the public roads。〃
〃But that is so long ago； /gran'mere/！〃 they urged。
Reine Allix nodded。 〃Yes； it is long ago； my dears。 But I do not think
that things change very much。〃
They were silent out of respect for her； but among themselves they
said； 〃She is very old。 Nothing is as it was in her time。〃
One evening； when the sun was setting red over the reapen fields； two
riders on trembling and sinking horses went through the village using
whip and spur； and scarcely drew rein as they shouted to the cottagers to
know whether they had seen go by a man running for his life。 The people
replied that they had seen nothing of the kind； and the horsemen pressed
on； jamming their spurs into their poor beasts' steaming flanks。 〃If you see
him； catch and hang him；〃 they shouted； as they scoured away； 〃he is a
Prussian spy！〃
〃A Prussian！〃 the villagers echoed； with a stupid stare〃a Prussian in
France！〃
One of the riders looked over his shoulder for a moment。 〃You fools！
do you not know？ We are beaten；beaten everywhere；and the Prussian
pigs march on Paris。〃
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The spy was not seen in the Berceau； but the news brought by his
pursuers scared sleep from the eyes of every grown man that night in the
little village。 〃It is the accursed Empire！〃 screamed the patriots of the
wine…shop。 But the rest of the people were too terrified and down…stricken
to take heed of empires or patriots； they only thought of Louis and Jean
and Andre and Valentin； and they collected round Reine Allix； who said to
them； 〃My children； for love of money all our fairest fruits and flowers
yea； even to the best blossoms of our maidenhoodwere sent to be bought
and sold in Paris。 We sinned therein； and this is the will of God。〃
This was all for a time that they heard。 It was a place lowly and
obscure enough to be left in peace。 The law pounced down on it once or
twice and carried off a few more of its men for army service； and arms
were sent to it from its neighbouring town； and an old soldier of the First
Empire tried to instruct its remaining sons in their use。 But he had no apt
pupil except Bernadou； who soon learned to handle a musket with skill
and with precision； and who carried his straight form gallantly and well；
though his words were seldom heard and his eyes were always sad。 〃You
will not be called till the last； Bernadou；〃 said the old soldier； 〃you are
married； and maintain your grandam and wife and child。 But a strong；
muscular； well…built youth like you should not wait to be called； you
should volunteer to serve France。〃
〃I will serve France when my time comes；〃 said Bernadou； simply； in
answer。 But he would not leave his fields barren； and his orchard uncared
for； and his wife to sicken and starve； and his grandmother to perish alone
in her ninety…third year。 They jeered and flouted and upbraided him； those
patriots who screamed against the fallen Empire in the wine…shop； but he
looked them straight in the eyes； and held his peace； and did his daily
work。
〃If he is called； he will not be found wanting；〃 said Reine Allix； who
knew him better than did even the young wife whom he loved。
Bernadou clung to his home with a dogged devotion。 He would not go
from it to fight unless compelled； but for it he would have fought like a
lion。 His love for his country was only an indefinite； shadowy existence
that was not clear to him； he could not save a land that he had never seen；
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a capital that was only to him as an empty name； nor could he comprehend
the danger that his nation ran； nor could he desire to go forth and spend his
life…blood in defence of things unknown to him。 He was only a peasant；
and he could not read nor greatly understand。 But affection for his
birthplace was a passion with him； mute indeed； but deep…seated as an oak。
For his birthplace he would have struggled as a man can only struggle
when supreme love as well as duty nerves his arm。 Neither he nor Reine
Allix could see that a man's duty might lie from home； but in that home
both were alike ready to dare anything and to suffer everything。 It was a
narrow form of patriotism； yet it had nobleness； endurance； and patience in
it； in song it has been oftentimes deified as heroism； but in modern warfare
it is punished as the blackest crime。
So Bernadou tarried in his cottage till he should be called； keeping
watch by night over the safety of his village； and by day doing all he could
to aid the deserted wives and mothers of the place by the tilling of their
ground for them and the tending of such poor cattle as were left in their
desolate fields。 He and Margot and Reine Allix； between them； fed
