When George came home of an even erect; not arrogantly, not in mean terror] and abject self-depreciation, but in rev-ing, after having gone round the timbererent affection and trust: as a man ought to stand. PETER BAYNE. From The St. James Magazine. THE TWO BROTHERS. A TALE BY MM. ERCKMANN-CHATRIAN, AUTHORS OF 66 THE CONSCRIPT," ETC. CHAPTER XVII. LOUISE became gradually worse and worse from the day this notice was hung up at the Mairie. The wedding had to be delayed. Physicians were sent for in all directions; they came and held consultations. There were Monsieur Bourgard from Saarbourg, a man of great fame and experience, he was well known all over the country; there was Monsieur Péquignot from Lorquin, Monsieur Heitz from Fénétrange, Monsieur Weber from Bouxwiller, and, finally, all the medical authorities to be had for ten leagues round Chaumes. They were to be seen continually coming and going, but no one knew the result of their deliberations. The head-keeper had obtained a leave of absence and had gone, it was said, to fetch the legal certificates required for his marriage. His place was filled during his absence by Caille, the horseguard from St. Quirin. Autumn had returned with its deep melancholy and cold winds which always heralded winter in. I went to Monsieur le Maire's every day after school, to fill the duties of secretary of the commune. I found him a great sufferer from rheumatism; but he suffered in silence, sitting with his leg stretched out on a stool, his elbow on his desk, and his eyes turned towards the windows, against the panes of which withered vine-leaves fell from off the gable branches, while the wind blew pieces of straw all about from the loft. Everything seemed to be dying away, and the tall poplars along the roadside kept up a constant moan. I used to sit writing, while he remained quiet, always in deep thought. "I am getting old, Florent," said he one day to me; “I have worked too hard - and what for?" "Monsieur le Maire," I replied, "there are still happy days in store for you." 'Never," said he, " never; it is all over ! " yards and saw-mills, the young fellow turned his head away to avoid seeing what was going on within. The father and son behaved as if they did not know each other, and the mother, whose eyes were now always red, carried her boy's meals up-stairs to him. Once only did Monsieur Jacques say, with great bitterness, "Florent, I have two brother Jeans now! one in-doors, one out; this house is no longer mine, I am no longer master here." His misery and sorrow oozed out in spite of his will. "Ah," he would say, "if I did but sleep on the hill-side, with the others, by our old church! They are at rest and know nothing of the troubles of this world." But if Monsieur Jacques was wretched on one side of the street, Monsieur Jean was just as miserable on the other. Each time I went by the bare hedges at the bottom of his garden I saw Monsieur Jean walking up and down, bareheaded, in nothing but his greyish-blue knitted jacket, in rain or in sunshine. He never ceased walking up and down, and could not stop in-doors, where the nurse Rosalie and the physicians were masters. This stony-hearted man was sinking. He stooped, and his nose lengthened visibly, like the beaks of certain eagles, which grow down so long that they cannot part them, and die for want of food; a proper retribution for their ferocity and love of prey. In my opinion Monsieur Jean had deserved all this; and I used to think, "You old sinner! you have not only brought all this on yourself for the past, but you deserve it all for the present, because you have obstinately made up your mind to sacrifice your own child, by forcing her to marry a man she cannot bear. I do not pity you-pride and hatred should be punished.” I saw him one evening on his knees in church, praying with his whole heart, and apparently in great trouble of mind. Louise, I thought, must be in a very alarming state for such a man as this to be praying so fervently. I looked and saw there was no sham in him then; something extraordinary was certainly going on. I had gone up to fetch a book from off the organ-desk, and the sight of this terrible man all alone in the dark church, kneeling, with his head in his two hands, greatly struck me. I feared it would soon be over with poor Louise, and raised my soul to my Maker, imploring His help and mercy. I was not mistaken, for the first thing Marie-Barbe said when I reached home was, "Have you heard that all the doctors have given Louise up, Florent? A great physician, of the name of Ducondray, has been sent for from Nancy." "No, I knew nothing about it," I replied: “but I had a kind of load here, a forewarning of some evil. That's what it was." I entered my study in a more solemn reverie than I had ever been in before. We did not mention Louise's name over supper, but we all thought of her, each sorrowing for the poor child we had seen so beautiful, so full of life and youth, so good to the poor, and now in a hopeless condition. into almost nothing. He speaks to nobody; people come and go without his minding. Come, in the name of heaven, Monsieur Florent!" I had not waited for all this, but had already put my hat on and was running down-stairs, neither did I slacken my pace until I got near the house. As Rosalie had said, the house-door was wide open, any one who liked could walk in and out. Servants were standing about their masters' carriages, and looked at me when I went in. The doctors were all assembled in the large pianoroom, which opened in the hall. Four or five of the older looking, in hooded cloaks, untied neckties, and with their hair in disorder, were quarrelling together, like all savants do, caring for no one's concerns but their own. When I entered, Monsieur Bourgard, from Saarbourg, who knew me, exclaimed, I prayed for her before I sought rest." There he is." The next day the medical men arrived, I bowed in some confusion to all of and met, under the presidence of Mon- them. One of the number, a tall man in sieur Ducondray, for a final consultation. a black coat and white necktie, with a It was now the end of autumn, the long face, big nose, wide mouth, broad, weather, after incessant rain, had set high wrinkled forehead, and with as digin fine again; the trees were leafless, and nified a mien as one of our university the flocks had ceased to be led out to inspectors, Monsieur Ducondray from pasture, the grass meadows being sod- Nancy, politely inquired,— den; our schoolroom was, therefore, full of boys and girls. No one ignored what was going on at Monsieur Jean's, everybody felt uneasy about Louise. I had finished the morning lessons at about eleven, and had gone | up-stairs, where the cloth was laid for dinner, when Rosalie, Monsieur Jean's servant, entered. "You are Monsieur Florent, the master at Chaumes, are you not?" "I am, Monsieur." "Well," said he, in a pleasant but very serious manner, 66 we have a case of great responsibility in hand, and we believe you can enlighten us.” I protested that I was only a simple village master, and quite unfit to enlighten such clever men. "Wait a moment," said he, interrupt "Quick, Monsieur Florent!" she cried, in a mournful voice; "come, you are wanted; Monsieur Ducondray, the doc-ing me. "Let me first tell you how we tor from Nancy, has sent for you." "Me?" I asked, in astonishment. "You must be making a mistake, Rosalie. What can a savant have to say to a village schoolmaster?" 66 No, no; I am certain. All the gentlemen want to speak to you, Monsieur Florent." My surprise can be fancied. I took my hooded cloak down from its peg and threw it over my house-jacket. "Where are you going, Florent?" asked Marie-Barbe, coming in. "Be cautious, Monsieur Jean is there; remember how he treated you last time." "Ah! fear nothing now, Marie-Barbe," said Rosalie, "our Monsieur is no longer the same man. Since the last con-ultation he has dwindled down, all of a piece, are situated. You have doubtless been informed that my colleagues have several times been called to Chaumes for Mdlle. Rantzau; they have come separately and collectively." "I have been told so." "Well, these gentlemen have now recourse to my experience, and I have seen their invalid. I think she is in a deep decline, which will prove fatal unless we can discover its cause. I have pressed her to give us some clue as to the origin of her disease, but she is either too frightened or too modest, and we can draw nothing from her. After great persuasion, however, our interesting invalid hid her face, saying that she would never be able to tell what she had on her mind, but that we were to ask Monsieur Florent. After having made this partial disclosure | I contained my emotion as well as I could, and replied,— And taking up his hat, which was on the table, lying by a grey cloak, he turned to the physicians. "Gentlemen," said he, "the consultation is over. I think we can leave." When he had gone out of the room the others followed, and the servants put their horses to the carriages. I looked on, thinking of what had occurred. Monsieur Jean Rantzau re "This is what I know of the case, gentlemen, and I will tell you all I do know, though I may lose my situation by so doing, and misery may be my lot in con-mained in the hall. I do not know what sequence. Louise loves her cousin he looked like, but he could have struck George Rantzau; George loves her in his bosom and said, return, and they would give up their life one for the other; but the fathers of these young people, although they are brothers, have hated each other for years and years; they have divided this place and caused much scandal with their dissensions and abominable hatred; neither will consent to the union of their children, who are thus both driven to despair. As to Louise, she would rather die than marry the man who is forced on her for a husband, that is Monsieur Lebel, the head-keeper. I have told you the whole truth, gentlemen, you may believe my word." "We readily believe you," replied the old doctor from Nancy, looking at his colleagues. "You see, gentlemen, that I am not mistaken: this is the second case of the kind I have had to deal with. It is love, more powerful than the instinct of self-preservation. Faithful even to death!" When he had done speaking I turned and saw Monsieur Jean behind me. He had come in through the side-door and had heard everything: he was an altered man, nothing now but skin and bones, sallow and untidy in his appearance. His waistcoat was unbuttoned, he wore no necktie, and altogether looked like a ruined man who has ceased to care for himself. As he stood, bent with the weight of his sorrow, he reminded me of old misers who have lost all their fortune; he had lost his pride. Monsieur Ducondray addressed him. "You have heard what has just been said, Monsieur?" "It is my fault; it is all my own fault!" When the clock struck one I hastened back to school. There was just time to swallow a mouthful, for the children had already gathered. They were shouting, whistling, and enjoying my absence, the very first that had occurred for five and twenty years. Order was restored as soon as I appeared, but I had no taste for teaching that day. I was much shaken by the events of the last two months, and found I could not bear up against the wickedness of mankind; everything seemed dark around me. Í had forsaken my herbal, my insects, my fossils, and suffered that day more than usual on account of Louise's desperate state, so that Marie-Barbe's questions and observations were intolerable. Leave me alone, and don't speak to me," I said. "Life is bitter enough without all these vain words." After supper Marie-Barbe and Juliette folded up the table-cloth, finished their work, and went to bed. I sat in my study, by the lamp, thinking over the events of the day and wondering whether Monsieur Jean would be wicked enough to persevere in his resolve to the end; if he would stand by and see his daughter die rather than quicken her with a hope; and questioning whether so great an injustice could be committed. Towards eleven I felt tired of my reflections and went down to lock up the house before I went to bed. It was a cold, cloudy night, but the cool wind did my head good, and I walked up and down the street, at the end of which shone a "Thus," replied Monsieur Jean slowly, light in Monsieur Jean's house from the 66 'you can do nothing more? You have window of Louise's room. The confitried everything? That is all you know?" | dence she had shown when she told the doctors to ask me what was the cause of her illness proved that she had not forgotten me. I liked to fancy, in that silent hour of night, that the poor child knew a friend watched near her. It was nothing but a superstitious idea, yet it comforted me. When I reached the end of the street I noticed that a pile of timber stood in front of Monsieur le Maire's house; it was to be sawn the following day; and behind this pile of logs I saw a light burning in the office. So Monsieur Jacques was up too? He could not sleep either! brothers standing face to face after thirty years' hatred! Jacques held the lamp, showing his own features expressive of stern wonder and Jean's inclined head — he was the picture of misery. "What do you want?" asked Jacques, in a harsh voice. "I have something to tell you," replied Jean very humbly; but finding his brother did not move and looked haughtily at him, he pleaded, "Jacques, my child is dying." He received no answer, but the mayor closed the window and stepped out to open the house-door. Both entered like two shadows. When they were inside, Jacques reopened the window to pull the outer shutters together. I stood in the shade of the timber to look up at the sick-room, and fancied Louise, being given up by the doctors, lying without a friend to hold her hand or say a syllable of comfort to her through all that solemn space of time during which life recedes. I pictured to myself the old nurse knitting at the foot of dying people and quietly listening to their sighs, provided her brandy-bottle stood on the mantelpiece. Then I next thought of Monsieur Jean looking on with gloomy features, and feeling indignant that a child of his should prefer death to his head-was Thursday; and no sooner had it keeper. struck eight than curiosity led me to Monsieur Jacques, where I hoped something would be betrayed on his countenance. I listened a full quarter of an hour: not a sound, not a word, were to be heard, and I went home much astonished at the scene I had witnessed. I dreamt all night of the two faces gleaming in front of each other in the darkness. "What can it all mean?" I thought. have they told each other? next thing we shall hear ?" The following day was a holiday. It My blood boiled. Though I am not a harsh man, and never struck a child, yet for once I felt sorry I was not strong enough to chastise the unnatural monster, and thought George would do well to exterminate him. Finding that no one moved in the two houses, and the two lights remaining motionless, I was going back towards home, when I heard a slight stir. Somebody was walking about in Monsieur Jean's house, where a second light appeared, then it was extinguished; a heavy tread came down his stairs, then the passage-door was opened with great caution. I could not see, but I heard the same heavy steps cross the street and near the spot I stood by. I was frightened. It was perhaps Monsieur Jean. If he were to find me there! The person stopped, then listened. A moment after I saw Monsieur Jean's tall figure in front of Monsieur Jacques' lighted office. What did he mean to do? My heart throbbed. He looked in for a few moments, then knocked at the window. A gruff voice, which I recognized to be that of Monsieur Jacques, asked, in the deep silence, "Who is there?" It is I," replied Jean in a stifled voice. The window was suddenly thrown open and a light brought that revealed the two "What What is the On reaching his house the first person I saw was Madame Rantzau coming downstairs with a pile of shirts on one arm. The door of the dining-room was open, and I saw a large leather trunk half filled with clothes, brushes, shoes, and waistcoats, wrapped in newspaper parcels. The good lady only had the other half to fill, and continued packing. Monsieur Jacques stood, in shirt-sleeves, combing his hair and beard in front of a small mirror hung upon the window-frame. On seeing me enter he said, in a short, off-hand way, "Ah, is that you, Florent ? I was going to send for you. I am leaving for Saarbrück: one of my customers there has run off with my money. All men .now-a-days are liars, thieves, and swindlers - go and trust people! I have sent word to my substitute; he will be here presently. Ah, there he is!" Good-day, Monsieur le Maire," said Monsieur Rigaud, who just then entered; "you have sent for me; what is there going on?" "I am being robbed of my money, that is what's going on. A thief of a timberdealer is going to Hombourg or Havre after having sold my wood and put the cash in his pocket. I must run after him with this bad leg of mine, and catch him, too, before he sails." 66 "Ah!" replied Father Rigaud, "bad news indeed; and when do you expect to be back again?" "There is no telling," answered the mayor, in a cross, peevish way. "If I succeed in collaring the confounded thief I shall have to call a board of men together to examine the scoundrel's accounts, for he is bankrupt; I shall have to go to law and soap the fingers first of one, then of the other. It will be a slow affair, especially with the Prussian authorities. If I get clear of it all in six weeks I shall consider myself lucky. If, on the other hand, the swindler has gone over to America a thing these German bankrupts all do I shall have to scrape together all the sums I can collect, to find out if he has been paid for all he has delivered. It is the very devil to get money out of an absconding party!" I and Rigaud looked at each other. When the mayor had put his overcoat on, he went to his writing-table and opened the drawer. 66 Now, Rigaud," he said, "you will not forget to post up the price of wheat and of bread; you will sign the parochial tickets, passports, and the rest - you are to take my place; here's the stamp of the Mairie, Renaud will soon get you in the way of transacting affairs." It is really very unpleasant for you to have to travel in such weather," said Father Rigaud; "look at the rain; it is awfully wet." "What's the use of making a fuss about it?" asked the mayor, who did not evidently want to be condoled with. "What has to be done must be done, that's all." He then produced a letter sealed up at each corner with red wax. "Monsieur Florent," said he, turning to me," my brother-in-law from Lutzelbourg, Monsieur Picot, will be here this night or to-morrow morning. You will give him this - do you hear?" "Yes, Monsieur le Maire." "Don't forget it. It is an important and private matter." "You know, Monsieur le Maire, that I never forget anything." He looked round, saw the packed trunk and asked for the key, felt in his pockets, threw a cloak, having a strong silver snap to it, over his shoulders, pulled his fur cap down over his ears and abruptly left the house. The char-à-bancs stood at the door with its great leather hood drawn down, as well as the curtains, which were provided with glass loopholes for the traveller to see out of. The man came in for the trunk, which he tied on behind and covered over with the oil-cloth roof canvas. We were all standing in the passage. Madame Charlotte hoped her husband would at least give her a parting kiss, but Monsieur le Maire was in too bad a humor to think of that, and took the reins in hand as he went up the driver's steps, saying to all, "Be sure you forget nothing. Hue!" Just as the carriage drove off George came down the house-passage, for he was going out. He had on his woollen frieze with a hood to it, held a cudgel in his hand, and had pulled down the brim of his wide beaver hat. He looked gloomy, and, without saying good-day or goodnight to any one, turned up the street on his way to the woods. The old man cast a side-glance at him; but George walked straight on without turning his head round, and the char-à-bancs rolled by as if he had not seen it. I and Monsieur Rigaud stood for some minutes looking at the heavy shower coming down, then in deep thought went to the Mairie together. CHAPTER XVIII THE departure of Monsieur Jacques in search of his timber-merchant astonished no one. It was a natural thing for a business man to do under the circumstances, and every one of the villagers would have acted as he had done. Marie Barbe and my daughter even sympathized with him and abused the Prussian thief who compelled a poor rheumatic old man to travel in such inclement weather. I shared their feelings. But universal surprise can be imagined when a carriage, similar to that of Monsieur Jacques, but covered with parcels, was seen on the following morning with Monsieur Jean, as driver, inside. He sat on the back seat, half-concealed by the hood overhead and the leather apron in front, which he had drawn up to his chin. He wore his large travelling-cape and foxfur cap, from under which he looked out on both sides of the way, lashing his horses most furiously, as if he were afraid of being overtaken and had to save his life. At this sight a clamour arose among the Chaumes people everybody ran out to see him go by; faces appeared at all the doors, stables, sheds, and air-holes. From the room in which I was dressing I |