Complete Works of Emile Zola (1774 page)

You want me to tell you what she did with the two lovers. Really, my pet, I dare not do so. I am afraid you will not believe me, or else that, jealous of their good fortune, you will cease returning me my kisses. But now you are very curious to know, naughty girl, and I can see that I shall have to satisfy you.

So, know that the fairy wandered about thus until night. When she wished to separate the lovers, she saw them so pained, but so pained at having to leave one another, that she began to speak to them in a whisper. It seems that she told them something very beautiful, for their faces were beaming, and their eyes expanded with delight. And, when she had spoken and they had consented, she touched their foreheads with her wand.

Suddenly — oh! Ninon, what great wondering eyes! How you would tap your foot, were I not to tell you the end!

Loïs and Odette were suddenly transformed into sprigs of sweet majoram, but such lovely majoram that only a fairy could make any like it. They found themselves placed side by side, so close to one another that their leaves entwined together. Marvellous flowers grew there, which were always to remain in bloom; exchanging their perfume and dew everlastingly.

As to Count Enguerrand, they say that he consoled himself by relating every night how the giant Buch-Iron-Head was slaughtered by a terrific blow from Giralda-Heavy-Sword And now, Ninon, when we go into the country, we will seek for the enchanted sweet majorams, to ask them in which flower the Love-Fairy is. Perhaps, my pet, a moral is concealed in this tale. But I have only told it you, with our feet before the grate, to make you forget the December rain which is beating against our windows, and to instil a little more love in you, to-night, for the young story-teller.

BLOOD

HERE already are many sunbeams, many flowers, many perfumes. Are you not tired, Ninon, of this everlasting spring? Always loving, always chaunting that dream of sixteen summers. You fall asleep at night, naughty girl, when I talk to you at great length of the coquetry of the rose, and the infidelity of the dragon-fly. You close your great eyes wearily, and I, who no longer find inspiration there, stammer on, without coming to a conclusion.

I’ll vanquish your idle eyelids, Ninon. To-day I am going to relate such a terrible tale to you, that you’ll not close them for a week. Listen. Terror is delicious after a deal of laughter.

I

Four soldiers, on the night of a victory, had encamped in a deserted corner of the battle-field. Night had come, and they were supping joyously among the dead.

Seated on the grass round a camp fire, they were grilling slices of lamb on the burning embers, and eating them when only half done. The red glare of the fire threw a faint light over the companions, casting their gigantic shadows to a distance. Every now and then, the arms lying around them, slightly flashed, and then amidst the night, one perceived men sleeping with their eyes open.

The soldiers laughed with long peals of merriment, without perceiving the staring gaze that was fixed upon them. The day had been a hard one. Not knowing what the morrow reserved for them, they were enjoying the rations and repose of the moment.

Night and Death flew across the battle-field, their great wings agitating its silence and horror.

When the meal was over, Gneuss sang. His sonorous voice uttered false notes in the sad, mournful air; the song, which burst joyfully from his lips, echoed in sobs. Astounded at these accents issuing from his mouth, and which he failed to recognise, the soldier sang in a higher key, when a terrible cry, proceeding from the darkness, sped through space.

Gneuss was silent, as if seized with uneasiness, and said to Elberg:

“Go and see what corpse is awakening.”

Elberg took a flaming brand and disappeared. His companions were able to follow him for a few instants by the light of the torch. They saw him stoop down, examining the dead, piercing the bushes with his sword. Then he disappeared.

“Clérian,” said Gneuss after a silence, “the wolves are wandering about to-night: go and look for our friend.”

And Clérian in his turn was lost in the darkness.

Gneuss and Flem, tired of waiting, wrapped themselves up in their cloaks and both lay down beside the smouldering fire. Their eyes were just closing, when the same terrible cry passed over their heads. Flem arose in silence, and walked towards the darkness where his two companions had disappeared.

Then Gneuss found himself alone. He was afraid, afraid of the darkness through which ran the death-rattle. He threw some dry roots on to the fire, hoping that the bright light would dispel his fright. A red flame burst out, and the ground was lit up in a wide luminous circle; in this circle, the bushes were dancing fantastically, and the dead, sleeping in the shadow of them, seemed shaken by invisible hands.

Gneuss was afraid of the light He spread out the flaming stalks, and extinguished them beneath his heels. As the darkness returned, more dense and weighty, he shuddered, dreading to hear the cry of death pass by. He sat down, then rose up to call his companions.

The high notes of his voice frightened him; and he feared he had attracted the attention of the corpses.

The moon appeared, and Gneuss, terrified, noticed a pale beam of light gliding across the battle-field. Night no longer hid its abominations. The devastated plain, strewn with fragments and corpses, extended before his eyes, wrapped in a winding-sheet of light; and this light, which was not the light of day, lit up the darkness without dispelling its silent horror.

Gneuss, erect, his forehead bathed in perspiration, thought of ascending the hillock to extinguish the pale torch of night. He wondered what the dead were waiting for, to arise and surround him, now that they saw him. Their immobility caused him anguish; and expecting some terrible event to happen, he closed his eyes.

And, as he stood there, he felt a tepid warmth at his left heel. He bent down towards the ground, and saw a narrow streak of blood escaping from beneath his feet. This streak bounding from stone to stone, ran along with a merry murmur; it came out of the darkness, twirled about in the light of the moon, to fly away and return into the night; one would have taken it for a serpent with black scales, the rings gliding along and following one another without end. Gneuss’ started back without being able to close his eyes again; they kept wide open, fixed on the sanguinary brook.

He saw it slowly swell, increase the breadth of its bed. The brook became a stream, a slow and peaceful stream that a child could have cleared at a bound. The stream became a torrent, and passed rumbling over the ground, casting a reddish spray on either side. The torrent became a river, an immense river.

This river bore away the corpses, and this blood which had poured from the wounds in such abundance that it carried away the dead, was a horrible prodigy.

Gneuss continued to retreat before the rising flood. He could no longer see its opposite bank; it seemed to him that the valley had changed into a lake.

All at once he found himself with his back against a rocky slope; he had to pause in his flight. Then he felt the waves beating against his knees. The dead, who were borne along by the current, insulted him as they passed by; each of their wounds became a mouth, that jeered at his fright. The thick ocean rose, continued rising; now it moaned around his hips. He made a supreme effort, and stretching up, clutched the crevices in the rocks; the rocks gave way, he fell, and the flood covered his shoulders.

The pale, sad moon looked down upon this sea, and fell on it without reflex. Light floated in the sky. The immense expanse of firmament, full of shadows and riotous sounds, seemed like the gaping opening to an abyss.

The wave rose, rose and reddened Gneuss’ lips with its foam.

II

Elberg’s arrival at daybreak awakened Gneuss, who was sleeping with his head on a stone.

“Friend,” he said, “I lost myself in the bush. As I was sitting at the foot of a tree, sleep overcame me, and my soul’s eyes saw strange scenes unrolled before them, which remained impressed on my memory when I awoke.

“The world was in its infancy. The sky resembled an immense smile. The earth, which was still virgin, expanded its chaste nudity, in the rays of the May sun. The blade of grass grew green and larger than the largest of our oaks; the trees spread leaves out into the air, that are unknown to us. The sap coursed copiously in the veins of the world, and its flood was so abundant, that being unable to limit itself to the plants, it streamed into the entrails of the rocks and gave them life.

“The horizons extended calm and radiant. Holy nature was awakening. Like the child who kneels down in the morning, and thanks the God of light, it poured out all its perfumes, all its songs to heaven, penetrating perfumes, unutterable songs, which my senses could hardly bear, so divine was the impression they produced on me.

“Sweet and fruitful earth, engendered without pain. Fruit-trees multiplied at will. Fields of corn bordered the highways, as fields of nettles do now. One felt in the air that human toil was not mingled with the breath of heaven. The Almighty alone worked for his children.

“Man, like the bird, lived on the food Providence gave him. He went about blessing God, picking fruit from the trees, drinking water at the spring, sheltered at night beneath the foliage. His lips had a horror of flesh; he knew not what the taste of blood was like, he found savour only in such viands as dew and sun prepared for his meals.

“It was thus that man remained innocent, and that his innocence crowned him king of the other animals of creation. Concord reigned everywhere. The world was of inconceivable whiteness, and was rocked in infinity by inconceivable supreme peace. The birds’ wings did not beat to fly away; the thickets in the forests were not places of refuge. All God’s creatures lived in the sun, and formed but one people, having but one law — goodness.

“I walked among these people, amidst this nature, and felt myself becoming stronger and better. My chest inhaled a full provision of the air of heaven. Suddenly leaving our impure winds for these breezes of a less infected world, I experienced the delicious sensation of a miner ascending to the open air.

“As the angel of dreams continued rocking me in my sleep, this is what my mind saw in a forest where it seemed lost.

“Two men followed a narrow path lost in the foliage. The younger walked in front; happiness beaming upon his lips, and his eyes having a caress for each blade of grass. Sometimes he turned round and smiled at his companion. I know not by what sweet expression it was that I recognised the smile was that of a brother.

“The lips and eyes of the other man continued mute and gloomy. He cast a look of hatred upon the youth, hastening on, stumbling behind him. He seemed to be pursuing a victim who did not fly. I saw him cut a tree which he roughly fashioned into a club. Then fearing to lose his companion, he ran, hiding his weapon behind him. The young man who had sat down to wait for him, arose at his approach, and kissed him on the forehead, as if after a long absence. They set out walking again. Daylight was drawing in. The child perceiving in the distance, between the large trunks of the forest, the soft lines of a hill that looked yellow in the sun’s farewell, hastened on. The gloomy man thought he was flying, and raised the club.

“His young brother turned round with a happy word of encouragement on his lips. The club smashed his face and blood spurted from it. The blade of grass which received the first drop, shook it with horror on the earth. Earth, shuddering and terrified, swallowed this drop; a long cry of repugnance escaped from its bosom, and the sand on the path turned the hideous beverage into blood-stained moss.

“At the victim’s cry, I noticed the creatures disperse in terror. They fled all over the world, avoiding the roads; they gathered together in the glades, and the strongest attacked the weakest. I saw them when alone, polishing their fangs and sharpening their claws. The great brigandage of creation was commencing.

“Then passed before me an everlasting flight The hawk pounced on the swallow, the swallow seized the fly on the wing, the fly settled on the corpse. From worm to lion, all creatures found themselves threatened. The world bit its tail, and went on devouring itself for evermore.

“Nature itself, struck with horror, had a prolonged convulsion. The pure lines of the horizon were broken. Sunrises and sunsets were attended by blood-like clouds; the waters heaved with eternal sobs, and the trees, twisting their branches, cast dead leaves every year upon the earth.”

III

As Elberg ceased speaking, Clérian appeared; he seated himself between his two companions and said to them:

“I know not whether I saw or dreamed what I am about to relate to you, the dream was so like reality, and reality so like a dream.

“I found myself on a road crossing the world. It was bordered by cities, and the multitudes followed it in their journeys.

“I saw the paving stones were black. My feet slid, and I perceived they were black with blood. The road sloped down on either side; a brook of thick, red water ran in the centre of it.

“I followed this road on which a crowd was stirring. I went from group to group, watching life pass before me.

“Here fathers sacrificed their daughters whose blood they had promised to some monstrous divinity. The fair heads bowed beneath the knife, and turned pale at the embrace of death.

“There proud, trembling virgins killed themselves, to escape the kiss of shame, and the tomb was the white raiment of their virginity.

“Further on, lovers died amid kisses. This one, weeping at being abandoned, expired at the waterside, her eyes fixed on the flood which had borne away her heart; that one, murdered in the arms of her lover, met her end clinging to his neck, and both expired in a supreme strain.

“Further on, men tired of darkness and misery, sent their souls to seek, in a better world, the liberty they had searched for, in vain, on this earth.

“Everywhere, the feet of kings left sanguinary imprints on the stones. This one walked in the blood of his brothers; that one, in the blood of his people; this other, in the blood of his God. Their crimson footprints in the dust made the people exclaim: ‘A king had been this way.’