Eloise Ch. 3637 Novels and Novellas


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‘My friend’s wife washed me and dressed me, showing much care for my person, often thanking me for her and wishing to know whether she had given me sufficient satisfaction. As we bathed, my attention was drawn once again towards the marks on her body: some appeared old, while some were quite recent. They had the unmistakable imprint of a cane.

‘ “Oh, those?” she said, noticing what I was looking at, “don’t blame Auguste: it’s really my fault.”

‘To this, I said nothing. I was beginning to realise that my friend’s life was now his own. When we were both street urchins or when we were soldiers, we lived in each other’s pockets. One had no secrets for the other. Now, so much had changed in my friend’s condition, I felt a great distance between us. I was ashamed to know intimate details of his life and to pry into it, even though these were being revealed to me so openly.

‘After the bath, Delphine dressed me in my uniform, complimenting me for how smart I looked, and saying how glad she was that I was joining her household. Once again, she repeated her wish to give me satisfaction, which surprised me greatly, for I was the servant and she the mistress. Her words made it seem that she was in charge of my comfort, and not the other way around.

‘With my stomach empty, having received from Delphine a kind of pleasure I had nearly forgotten in the past year, and feeling nice and warm in my new uniform, I started to think about my friend’s new and unexpected situation. Hunger, fear, captivity, the exhausting march back to France had frozen my intellect, and the warmth of a comfortable life was now thawing my faculty and allowing me to see things with some clarity.

‘Auguste was living in luxury with a very devoted and obedient wife, who used to regard him as her inferior before he departed for war. How could this be? I was indeed very curious but was fearful of confronting my old friend.

‘ “Is there anything else I can help you with, Mr Grin,” Delphine asked.

‘ “Yes,” I said, trying not to attach too much importance to my question. “How long have you been married to Auguste?”

‘Delphine, not suspecting the reason behind my question, replied: “Nearly a year.”

‘So, I reasoned, while I was rotting in an Austrian prison, Auguste had already returned to France and had had lost no time in marrying this pretty young woman. This discovery troubled me, but I decided I would mention it to Auguste. He had agreed to put me on a salary and to house me: I was in no position to offend him.

‘When I walked downstairs, my old friend greeted me saying: “Your employment begins tomorrow. Tonight, you will be a guest at my table.”

‘We dined together, Auguste and I. Delphine served us, as if she was a servant and not the lady of the house. I was puzzled by this behaviour, but I preferred not to say anything to my host.

‘Auguste regarded me with keenness throughout the dinner, as if he was trying to study me. He had always been a calculating man but had always been ready to share his thoughts with me. Now, he appeared distant and cold.

‘On my part, I was determined not to show my curiosity for how he had come to return to Rennes and to rise in station so quickly; so, I complimented his good fortune, the house he lived in, and his wife who appeared so devoted to him.

‘ “Yes, yes…” he said impatiently. “It’s all very fine. Tell me what happened to you after the camp was taken,” he asked me, still studying me with such cold concentration, I grew scared of him.

‘I told him about the attack, how may of the men we knew had perished that day, and how I was captured.

‘He was very curious about these events, and enquired about the details of these events, so that I spoke for the whole duration of our meal.

‘When we were finished, Auguste and I sat in the drawing room. Delphine brought a bottle of sauternes and an assortment of dried dates, figs, orange peels, cherries, and other fruits coated in chocolate.

‘Auguste sipped the wine and commented: “This liquor is made sweeter and all the more precious by mould. They call it noble rot. I didn’t know these things when I was poor, but now I see how what we regarded as ignoble and intolerable is actually a source of great enjoyment for the discerning man…”

‘I understood the metaphor to apply to his new condition.

‘ “You have told me openly your ,” he said, “it is only fair that you know from my own lips what you probably suspect. Or fear.

‘ “When I entered the tent of our old acquaintance Captain Rifle, I knew not what I was doing. I only knew that I had been risking my life for nothing. All I ever desired, a fortune to buy my way into the good society of France, had been taken by our captain, and I was then determined to take it, whatever it cost me.

‘ “The captain was asleep. The rain was so strong that its noise covered that of my steps. I moved with caution, unable to see anything. I was not familiar with the arrangement or the content of the captain’s quarters, but I couldn’t light a lamp for fear of waking Mr Rifle up.

‘ “I walked in small steps and soon felt lost in the dark. Then, I heard the captain’s voice: ‘Who is there?’ My heart stopped, but I quickly realised that the sound of his voice was the only clue I needed to divine his position. Even though he knew there was an intruder, I felt I had some advantage. I couldn’t let him turn on the light and shoot me with one of the pistols he always kept within reach. So, I ran towards that voice, knife in hand. It landed into some part of his body, for I heard him cry. I felt one of his hands on me, searching for my throat, no doubt the other was looking for his gun, but I lost no time: I jumped on him and plunged the knife in him again. You will remember his bulk and strength: even having had my blade through his flesh twice, he still put up a great fight.

‘ “The captain began thrashing about, trying to grapple with his assailant, and as he did so all the objects that were within his grasp began falling onto the floor with a great noise. He then was able to get a good handle on me, and he threw me onto the floor. In my fall, I lost the knife. Then, the captain was quickly on top of me. His hands closed on my throat. I knew I was as near death as I had ever been. I had no means to defend myself, having lost my weapon. I searched the ground around me, hoping to find the knife, but that was in vain.

‘ ” ‘You son of a bitch!’ the captain screamed, squeezing my throat with such strength I could not draw breath.

‘ “Having no knife or any other object to fight him with, I began punching him with what little strength I had left in me.

‘ “The captain laughed as I did this, until my fingers found one of the wounds my knife had opened.

‘ “I forced my fingers into it.

‘ “The captain screamed, and I felt his grip loosen.

‘ “I then clawed at that wound with more determination until the captain rolled off me. I then jumped on him, careful not to lose my grip onto that injury.

‘ “It was like fighting a wild, wounded animal during a hunt. His body was much stronger than mine, but I knew there’s one part of the body that is equal in between men. I quickly stood up and, without giving him time to move, I kicked his head with my boot. I did it once, then, as he lay stunned on the ground, I did it twice. Then thrice. And again, and again. Even though I was sure that the captain, if he wasn’t already dead, wasn’t conscious, I still feared the still bulk of his body that rested at my feet. I feared turning on a light. I feared searching for my knife. All I wanted was that money that I had coveted. I remember trembling as if cold when I wrapped my fingers around the large neck of the captain; then, I began to tighten my grip.

‘ “I didn’t stop for a moment to think about what I was doing: murder! That’s what I was doing. The captain wasn’t moving. I couldn’t see him, and maybe the blindness that cloaked my act allowed me the courage to go ahead with it.

‘ “I choked him until I heard the noise of the cartilages break under the strain, and I felt the flesh give way. Then I knew the captain was no more.”

‘I said nothing as Auguste spoke these words. I had returned to my post, leaving my friend to either be found and be killed, or to complete this evil deed I knew he had in mind.

‘Now, I looked at him: for a moment his expression betrayed the horror of what he had done, then, like a little cloud on a windy day, it flew away. Auguste sipped some wine and ate a glazed fig, clicking his tongue in appreciation for the sugary treat.

‘I knew then that, although he was conscious of the monstrosity of having killed a countryman, he was reminded daily of what great return the investment of sacrificing his could brought him.

‘ ‘ “I then turned on a lamp, so that I could then search the tent for that treasure I knew the captain had amassed during our plundering. All the while, my conscience was pricking me, and I could not look at the body of our captain. But, when I opened the captain’s trunk and found the sack with all his loot, I then became a different man: my conscience became dumb, and my resolve was even greater.

‘ “Your words, my dear Grin,” my host continued, “rang in my ears: ‘even if we can do it, we will get caught and hanged.'”

‘Here Auguste’s voice trailed off. He didn’t have to say what I knew had passed. To avoid the discovery of the captain’s murder, he must have rushed out of our camp and searched for the enemy army to instruct them of our position and how to conquer it.

‘I looked at Auguste, and he returned my gaze, with a vague hint of a smile. There was no shame in him for how he had carried himself.

‘ “I returned to France, as you may have guessed, a rich man,” he continued. “I was now rich, and, even though I had no reason to do so, I was determined to show my old employer who I had become. I have to confess I also truly loved Delphine.

‘ “We had spent time together conversing and walking together. She had, I believed, encouraged my attentions towards her, and yet she had not demanded her father allowed our union.”

‘Here, Delphine, who was bringing more sweets to the table, stopped hearing the mention of her name. She gave her husband a quick look, which he seemed to ignore, even though I believe he had begun to talk about her ill treatment of him on purpose, knowing she had entered the room.

‘ “Please remain:” he said to her, “you know what happened next.”

‘Delphine gave him a begging look. It was clear she didn’t want to hear another word of this , but she obeyed. She stood before us, as if awaiting orders.

‘ “I often wonder if the love I had felt for her was at all returned…” Auguste said.

‘His words did not demand pity for his unreturned feelings. My old friend was simply explaining what offence he had returned to avenge.

‘Delphine said nothing, and Auguste continued relishing the events he was recounting, in that they vexed his wife gravely.

‘ “I returned to ask the hand of Delphine. You can imagine my surprise when I found out that she was pregnant.” Here, Auguste laughed with some perfidy. “She had gotten herself pregnant by some unknown, moneyless cad she barely knew. While I had been assured she couldn’t marry me because I had no fortune of my own, this quality did not prove a prerequisite in future.”

‘Now, Auguste paused to regard Delphine.

‘This was biting her lips and tormenting her hands.

‘ “Yes, I behaved very badly, and I can only hope my good Auguste can forgive me one day,” she said.

‘I then began to understand the punishment and humiliation this woman seemed so used to, and I felt a great pity for her.

‘ “You will find that a woman’s charm and a man’s fortune have little power when the woman is a known whore. Carrying a bastard! Who would ever marry her?” August mused. “I didn’t even need to show my napoleons. The old man gave her to me for nothing.”

‘Then, he turned towards her and, with great disgust on his face, he ordered Delphine to leave us: “You have nothing to say? What use are you? Leave us, then.”

‘She begged forgiveness and quickly exited the room.

‘Auguste looked at me to assess my reaction at what I was hearing and what I was seeing.

‘I said nothing, and he seemed pleased.

‘He wasn’t after anybody’s forgiveness or understanding. Merely their obedience.

‘Auguste then told me how Delphine’s father hadn’t lived longer after the marriage. Seeing his only daughter losing her honour and marrying this cruel man broke his heart.

‘The child was given away at birth.

‘Auguste used his wife’s fortune and the one he had accumulated during the war to enter the world of commerce. He seemed to have a great talent for business and grew his wealth many times over.

‘Meanwhile, he seemed determined to punish Delphine for the way she had treated him. I later realised that there was no end to this punishment, no way to atone for the crime. Auguste was determined to see her die under the strain of his contempt.

‘The poor woman tried hard to please her husband. She was conscious and much ashamed of her past behaviour. Somehow, she had even grown to love her tormentor. But nothing was enough to appease him.

‘Auguste had truly loved her, and the sting of not having been loved in returned and of seeing her fall for another man had infected him with such hatred that he was determined to destroy her.

‘I was glad when we could bury her next to her father.’

I studied Grin, as he said this, but his gaze evaded me. I wondered then if the way Auguste had treated his wife had weakened her and made her ill, or if Delphine had taken a more active role in her premature demise.

‘You see, Eloise,’ Grin resumed. ‘Auguste can be very generous. I, as his friend, have greatly benefitted from his kindness. As you can understand, I still fear the memory of how I abandoned him outside the captain’s tent that night, and I wonder if there will one day be retribution for that defection. But, until now, I can honestly say I have lived the life of a gentleman under his roof: I have the run of the house, and I can indulge my every whim. I am wealthier than I could ever imagine, and freer.

‘Let’s be friend, Eloise,’ Grin said in conclusion of his . ‘I know you are weary of him, and I see you are prepared to challenge him, but no good can come from making him an enemy. Let him shower you and your mother with gifts. You have nothing to gain from turning against him.’

I had listened to Grin’s with a certain interest. Even though the details had surprised me, and even shocked me, the portrait he had made of Auguste was very similar to the one I had already made for myself. He had been able to change nothing in my estimation of his employer: his poverty, his scorned love, his determination could explain his actions the treatment of his wife, that of the maid, and even the treatment of my mother when she had asked for his help but certainly not excuse them.

I stood up, looked down towards the butler who remained seated, and said with great superiority:

‘I believe my mother should be home any minute. Please let me go home without any more fuss.’

*

My mother arrived at the house in the late afternoon.

I presently asked to speak with her, and, without waiting for an answer, I dragged her into a little study so that I could talk to her privately.

‘What a day,’ she exclaimed, sitting down on a chair. ‘Will you help me with these?’ she added handing me various boxes wrapped in papers of various garish colours. ‘I’ve found this new hatter. It was simply impossible not to buy everything in the shop.’

She could finally indulge in all the pleasures that had been forbidden to her since the downfall of my father. Once again, she no longer needed to worry about anything: her life was now one big party. The only injunction was to enjoy herself. This, she now did with great relish, having suddenly found new friends just as eager as she was to seek the newest and most fashionable dressmakers, to watch the latest play, and to let their husbands and lovers’ money fly from their purses like birds off a cage.

‘Mother, I have to speak to you,’ I said.

She appeared distracted, still seeing pretty little hats, still hearing the garrulous chat, still tasting the delicacies served at the cafes.

‘It’s a matter of great importance,’ I explained, looking gravely and demanding her full attention.

‘What is it?’ she asked, still smiling distractedly.

Having never had to provide for anyone, not even myself, I didn’t fully appreciate how financial worries will eventually dent even the strongest armour. Even the most principled moralist will soon compromise when faced with the prospect of utter ruin. In my innocence, however, I believed myself ready to endure a life of hardship, and I expected my mother to be equally superior to Mr LeClair’s baseness and equally prepared to choose poverty over the company of that man.

I therefore spoke frankly, without any artifice, so unrefusable I thought my argument. I told my mother all I had seen, how Mr LeClair and his familiars had vexed that young maid. I then told my mother about the criminal origin of Mr LeClair’s fortune, and how he had cruelly used his wife.

‘We cannot possibly tolerate life under the same roof as this knave,’ I concluded.

During my speech, I saw my mother’s expression change from one of mirth to a worried one. She then averted her eyes and stood up.

‘What silliness!’ she said.

‘I have seen it with my own eyes!’ I replied, pressing her on.

She made an attempt at laughter, but this came out as an impatient huff:

‘It’s probably not as bad as you’ve imagined.’

‘Mother, this is intolerable! How can you stand it?’

She then turned towards me and said:

‘So what? While us women can be constant and faithful, a man will always have his own distractions. It’s only natural, and it’s time you learned to accept it.’

I pressed her on:

‘But this is more than a distraction. This is pure perfidy.’

She guffawed again dismissively but said nothing.

‘And you have heard of how he murdered a man for his own gain.’

My mother was silent for a moment. A battle was raging inside her. Then, the battle was over, and she said:

‘How do you think the big fortunes of the wealthy men you have met were made and maintained?’

‘Surely, not murder!’ I said.

My mother then replied:

‘Do you think that paying people a sou a day when you’re netting a louis is not murder? Do you think that entering a barter you are sure will mean starvation for another man is not murder? Look at all those dirty men and women lining the streets in the morning walking to the factories! Their labour is netting a fortune to their employers, while they can barely dress themselves with its proceeds. This is how we all live! Eloise, you are indeed still a child!’

‘Do you then excuse how Father was treated, then?’ I said, wanting to make my point, even at the risk of being cruel. ‘He too lost it all to unequal deals.’

‘Yes!’ she exclaimed. This almost surprised her, for she stopped a moment, but then she added: ‘I do. This is how the world works. Once, we were on one side of that trade: we lived in a grand house, while people served us and tended to our fields. Your father never complained about the way other people were treated so that he could live handsomely. He never once suggested he should be more generous towards our servants; he never once proposed to share the great profit he made with the people he entered a barter with.’

‘Mother…’ I began, hoping I could still convince her to abandon Auguste.

‘It is undignified to speak like this: you should not question the good fortune we have found. It’s not done.’

I opened my mouth to say more, but she raised a hand and said:

‘Eloise, I wish you didn’t abuse my patience any longer. I now have to change for supper, and I beg you to do the same. Compose yourself and don’t mention any of this anymore.’

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