the four horsemen of the apocalypse-第37节

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omething　of　envy；　the　envy　that　springs　from　an　uneasy　conscience。

Whenever　Don　Marcelo　passed　a　bad　night；　suffering　from　nightmare；　a　certain　terrible　thingalways　the　samewould　torment　his　imagination。　　Rarely　did　he　dream　of　mortal　peril　to　his　family　or　self。　　The　frightful　vision　was　always　that　certain　notes　bearing　his　signature　were　presented　for　collection　which　he；　Marcelo　Desnoyers；　the　man　always　faithful　to　his　bond；　with　a　past　of　immaculate　probity；　was　not　able　to　pay。　　Such　a　possibility　made　him　tremble；　and　long　after　waking　his　heart　would　be　oppressed　with　terror。　　To　his　imagination　this　was　the　greatest　disgrace　that　a　man　could　suffer。

Now　that　war　was　overturning　his　existence　with　its　agitations；　the　same　agonies　were　reappearing。　　Completely　awake；　with　full　powers　of　reasoning；　he　was　suffering　exactly　the　same　distress　as　when　in　his　horrible　dreams　he　saw　his　dishonored　signature　on　a　protested　document。

All　his　past　was　looming　up　before　his　eyes　with　such　extraordinary　clearness　that　it　seemed　as　though　until　then　his　mind　must　have　been　in　hopeless　confusion。　　The　threatened　land　of　France　was　his　native　country。　　Fifteen　centuries　of　history　had　been　working　for　him；　in　order　that　his　opening　eyes　might　survey　progress　and　comforts　that　his　ancestors　did　not　even　know。　　Many　generations　of　Desnoyers　had　prepared　for　his　advent　into　life　by　struggling　with　the　land　and　defending　it　that　he　might　be　born　into　a　free　family　and　fireside。　。　。　。　　And　when　his　turn　had　come　for　continuing　this　effort；　when　his　time　had　arrived　in　the　rosary　of　generationshe　had　fled　like　a　debtor　evading　payment！　。　。　。　　On　coming　into　his　fatherland　he　had　contracted　obligations　with　the　human　group　to　whom　he　owed　his　existence。　　This　obligation　should　be　paid　with　his　arms；　with　any　sacrifice　that　would　repel　danger　。　。　。　and　he　had　eluded　the　acknowledgment　of　his　signature；　fleeing　his　country　and　betraying　his　trust　to　his　forefathers！　　Ah；　miserable　coward！　　The　material　success　of　his　life；　the　riches　acquired　in　a　remote　country；　were　comparatively　of　no　importance。　　There　are　failures　that　millions　cannot　blot　out。　　The　uneasiness　of　his　conscience　was　proving　it　now。　　Proof；　too；　was　in　the　envy　and　respect　inspired　by　this　poor　mechanic　marching　to　meet　his　death　with　others　equally　humble；　all　kindled　with　the　satisfaction　of　duty　fulfilled；　of　sacrifice　accepted。

The　memory　of　Madariaga　came　to　his　memory。

〃Where　we　make　our　riches；　and　found　a　familythere　is　our　country。〃

No；　the　statement　of　the　centaur　was　not　correct。　　In　normal　times；　perhaps。　　Far　from　one's　native　land　when　it　is　not　exposed　to　danger；　one　may　forget　it　for　a　few　years。　　But　he　was　living　now　in　France；　and　France　was　being　obliged　to　defend　herself　against　enemies　wishing　to　overpower　her。　　The　sight　of　all　her　people　rising　en　masse　was　becoming　an　increasingly　shameful　torture　for　Desnoyers；　making　him　think　all　the　time　of　what　he　should　have　done　in　his　youth；　of　what　he　had　dodged。

The　veterans　of　'70　were　passing　through　the　streets；　with　the　green　and　black　ribbon　in　their　lapel；　souvenirs　of　the　privations　of　the　Siege　of　Paris；　and　of　heroic　and　disastrous　campaigns。　　The　sight　of　these　men；　satisfied　with　their　past；　made　him　turn　pale。　　Nobody　was　recalling　his；　but　he　knew　it；　and　that　was　enough。　　In　vain　his　reason　would　try　to　lull　this　interior　tempest。　。　。　。　　Those　times　were　different；　then　there　was　none　of　the　present　unanimity；　the　Empire　was　unpopular　。　。　。　everything　was　lost。　。　。　。　　But　the　recollection　of　a　celebrated　sentence　was　fixing　itself　in　his　mind　as　an　obsession〃France　still　remained！〃　　Many　had　thought　as　he　did　in　his　youth；　but　they　had　not；　therefore；　evaded　military　service。　　They　had　stood　by　their　country　in　a　last　and　desperate　resistance。

Useless　was　his　excuse…making　reasoning。　　Nobler　thoughts　showed　him　the　fallacy　of　this　beating　around　the　bush。　　Explanations　and　demonstrations　are　unnecessary　to　the　understanding　of　patriotic　and　religious　ideals；　true　patriotism　does　not　need　them。　　One's　country　。　。　。　is　one's　country。　　And　the　laboring　man；　skeptical　and　jesting；　the　self…centred　farmer；　the　solitary　pastor；　all　had　sprung　to　action　at　the　sound　of　this　conjuring　word；　comprehending　it　instantly；　without　previous　instruction。

〃It　is　necessary　to　pay；〃　Don　Marcelo　kept　repeating　mentally。　　〃I　ought　to　pay　my　debt。〃

As　in　his　dreams；　he　was　constantly　feeling　the　anguish　of　an　upright　and　desperate　man　who　wishes　to　meet　his　obligations。

Pay！　。　。　。　and　how？　　It　was　now　very　late。　　For　a　moment　the　heroic　resolution　came　into　his　head　of　offering　himself　as　a　volunteer；　of　marching　with　his　bag　at　his　side　in　some　one　of　the　groups　of　future　combatants；　the　same　as　the　carpenter。　　But　the　uselessness　of　the　sacrifice　came　immediately　into　his　mind。　　Of　what　use　would　it　be？　。　。　。　　He　looked　robust　and　was　well…preserved　for　his　age；　but　he　was　over　seventy；　and　only　the　young　make　good　soldiers。　Combat　is　but　one　incident　in　the　struggle。　　Equally　necessary　are　the　hardship　and　self…denial　in　the　form　of　interminable　marches；　extremes　of　temperature；　nights　in　the　open　air；　shoveling　earth；　digging　trenches；　loading　carts；　suffering　hunger。　。　。　。　　No；　it　was　too　late。　　He　could　not　even　leave　an　illustrious　name　that　might　serve　as　an　example。

Instinctively　he　glanced　behind。　　He　was　not　alone　in　the　world；　he　had　a　son　who　could　assume　his　father's　debt　。　。　。　but　that　hope　only　lasted　a　minute。　　His　son　was　not　French；　he　belonged　to　another　people；　half　of　his　blood　was　from　another　source。　　Besides；　how　could　the　boy　be　expected　to　feel　as　he　did？　　Would　he　even　understand　if　his　father　should　explain　it　to　him？　。　。　。　　It　was　useless　to　expect　anything　from　this　lady…killing；　dancing　clown；　from　this　fellow　of　senseless　bravado；　who　was　constantly　exposing　his　life　in　duels　in　order　to　satisfy　a　silly　sense　of　honor。

Oh；　the　meekness　of　the　bluff　Senor　Desnoyers　after　these　reflections！　。　。　。　　His　family　felt　alarmed　at　seeing　the　humility　and　gentleness　with　which　he　moved　around　the　house。　　The　two　men…　servants　had　gone　to　join　their　regiments；　and　to　them　the　most　surprising　result　of　the　declaration　of　war　was　the　sudden　kindness　of　their　master；　the　lavishness　of　his　farewell　gifts；　the　paternal　care　with　which　he　supervised　their　preparations　for　departure。　　The　terrible　Don　Marcelo　embraced　them　with　moist　eyes；　and　the　two　had　to　exert　themselves　to　prevent　his　accompanying　them　to　the　station。

Outside　of　his　home　he　was　slipping　about　humbly　as　though　mutely　asking　pardon　of　the　many　people　around　him。　　To　him　they　all　appeared　his　superiors。　　It　was　a　period　of　economic　crisis；　for　the　time　being；　the　rich　also　were　experiencing　what　it　was　to　be　poor　and　worried；　the　banks　had　suspended　operations　and　were　paying　only　a　small　part　of　their　deposits。　　For　some　weeks　the　millionaire　was　deprived　of　his　wealth；　and　felt　restless　before　the　uncertain　future。　　How　long　would　it　be　before　they　could　send　him　money　from　South　America？　　Was　war　going　to　take　away　fortunes　as　well　as　lives？　。　。　。　　And　yet　Desnoyers　had　never　appreciated　money　less；　nor　disposed　of　it　with　greater　generosity。

Numberless　mobilized　men　of　the　lower　classes　who　were　going　alone　toward　the　station　met　a　gentleman　who　would　timidly　stop　them；　put　his　hand　in　his　pocket　and　leave　in　their　right　hand　a　bill　of　twenty　francs；　fleeing　immediately　before　their　astonished　eyes。　The　working…women　who　were　returning　weeping　from　saying　good…bye　to　their　husbands　saw　this　same　gentleman　smiling　at　the　children　who　were　with　them；　patting　their　cheeks　and　hastening　away；　leaving　a　five…franc　piece　in　their　hands。

Don　Marcelo；　who　had　never　smoked；　was　now　frequenting　the　tobacco　shops；　coming　out　with　hands　and　pockets　filled　in　order　that　he　might；　with　lavish　generosity；　press　the　packages　upon　the　first　soldier　he　met。　　At　times　the　recipient；　smiling　courteously；　would　thank　him　with　a　few　words；　revealing　his　superior　breeding　afterwards　passing　the　gift　on　to　others　clad　in　cloaks　as　coarse　and　badly　cut　as　his　own。　　The　mobilization；　universally　obligatory；　often　caused　him　to　make　these　mistakes。

The　rough　hands　pressing　his　with　a　grateful　clasp；　left　him　satisfied　for　a　few　moments。　　Ah；　if　he　could　only　do　more！　。　。　。　The　Government　in　mobilizing　its　vehicles　had　appropriated　three　of　his　monumental　automobiles；　and　Desnoyers　felt　very　sorry　that　they　were　not　also　taking　the　fourth　mastodon。　　Of　what　use　were　they　to　him？　　The　shepherds　of　this　monstrous　herd；　the　chauffeur　and　his　assistants；　were　now　in　the　army。　　Everybody　was　marching　away。　Finally　he　and　his　son　would　be　the　only　ones　lefttwo　useless　creatures。

He　roared　with　wrath　on　learning　of　the　enemy's　entrance　into　Belgium；　considering　this　the　most　unheard…of　treason　in　history。　He　suffered　agonies　of　shame　at　remembering　that　at　first　he　had　held　the　exalted　patriots　of　his　country　responsible　for　the　war。　。　。　。　　What　perfidy；　methodically　carried　out　after　long　years　of　preparation！　　The　accounts　of　the　sackings；　fires　and　butcheries　made　him　turn　pale　and　gnash　his　teeth。　　To　him；　to　Mar