The Complete Works: Short Stories, Novels, Plays, Poetry, Memoirs and more. Guy de Maupassant
room, then came back, one carrying two lighted wax-candles, the other four wineglasses without stems, glasses such as the poor use. The wax-candles were fresh looking and were garnished with red paper — placed, no doubt, by way of ornament on the young girl’s mantelpiece.
Then, Colosse rose up; for only the male members of the family visited the cellar. Andermatt had an idea. “It would give me great pleasure to see your cellar. You are the principal vinedresser of the district, and it must be a very fine one.”
Oriol, touched to the heart, hastened to conduct them, and, taking up one of the wax-candles, led the way. They had to pass through the kitchen again, then they got into a court where the remnant of daylight that was left enabled them to discern empty casks standing on end, big stones of giant granite in a corner pierced with a hole in the middle, like the wheels of some antique car of colossal size, a dismounted winepress with wooden screws, its brown divisions rendered smooth by wear and tear, and glittering suddenly in the light thrown by the candle on the shadows that surrounded it. Close to it, the working implements of polished steel on the ground had the glitter of arms used in warfare. All these things gradually grew more distinct, as the old man drew nearer to them with the candle in his hand, making a shade of the other.
Already they got the smell of the wine, the pounded grapes drained dry. They arrived in front of a door fastened with two locks. Oriol opened it, and quickly raising the candle above his head vaguely pointed toward a long succession of barrels standing in a row, and having on their swelling flanks a second line of smaller casks. He showed them first of all that this cellar, all on one floor, sank right into the mountain, then he explained the contents of its different casks, the ages, the nature of the various vine-crops, and their merits; then, having reached the supply reserved for the family, he caressed the cask with his hand just as one might rub the crupper of a favorite horse, and in a proud tone said:
“You are going to taste this. There’s not a wine bottled equal to it — not one, either at Bordeaux or elsewhere.”
For he possessed the intense passion of countrymen for wine kept in a cask.
Colosse followed him, carrying a jug, stooped down, turned the cock of the funnel, while his father cautiously held the light for him, as though he were accomplishing some difficult task requiring minute attention. The candle’s flame fell directly on their faces, the father’s head like that of an old attorney, and the son’s like that of a peasant soldier.
Andermatt murmured in Gontran’s ear: “Hey, what a fine Teniers!”
The young man replied in a whisper: “I prefer the girls.”
Then they went back into the house. It was necessary, it seemed, to drink this wine, to drink a great deal of it, in order to please the two Oriols.
The lassies had come across to the table where they continued their work as if there had been no visitors. Gontran kept incessantly staring at them, asking himself whether they were twins, so closely did they resemble one another. One of them, however, was plumper and smaller, while the other was more ladylike. Their hair, dark-brown rather than black, drawn over their temples in smooth bands, gleamed with every slight movement of their heads. They had the rather heavy jaw and forehead peculiar to the people of Auvergne, cheekbones somewhat strongly marked, but charming mouths, ravishing eyes, with brows of rare neatness, and delightfully fresh complexions. One felt, on looking at them, that they had not been brought up in this house, but in a select boarding-school, in the convent to which the daughters of the aristocracy of Auvergne are sent, and that they had acquired there the well-bred manners of cultivated young ladies.
Meanwhile, Gontran, seized with disgust before this red glass in front of him, pressed Andermatt’s foot to induce him to leave. At length he rose, and they both energetically grasped the hands of the two peasants; then they bowed once more ceremoniously, the young girls each responding with a slight nod, without again rising from their seats.
As soon as they had reached the village, Andermatt began talking again. —
“Hey, my dear boy, what an odd family! How manifest here is the transition from people in good society. A son’s services are required to cultivate the vine so as to save the wages of a laborer, — stupid economy, — however, he discharges this function, and is one of the people. As for the girls, they are like girls of the better class — almost quite so already.
Let them only make good matches, and they would pass as well as any of the women of our own class, and even much better than most of them. I am as much gratified at seeing these people as a geologist would be at finding an animal of the tertiary period.”
Gontran asked: “Which do you prefer?”
“Which? How, which? Which what?”
“Of the lassies?”
“Oh! upon my honor, I haven’t an idea on the subject. I have not looked at them from the standpoint of comparison. But what difference can this make to you? You have no intention to carry off one of them?”
Gontran began to laugh: “Oh! no, but I am delighted to meet for once fresh women, really fresh, fresh as women never are with us. I like looking at them, just as you like looking at a Teniers. There is nothing pleases me so much as looking at a pretty girl, no matter where, no matter of what class. These are my objects of vertu. I don’t collect them, but I admire them — I admire them passionately, artistically, my friend, in the spirit of a convinced and disinterested artist. What would you have? I love this! By the bye, could you lend me five thousand francs?”
The other stopped, and murmured an “Again!” energetically.
Gentran replied, with an air of simplicity: “Always!” Then they resumed their walk.
Andermatt then said: “What the devil do you do with the money?”
“I spend, it.”
“Yes, but you spend it to excess.”
“My dear friend, I like spending money as much as you like making it. Do you understand?”
“Very fine, but you don’t make it.”
“That’s true. I know it. One can’t have everything. You know how to make it, and, upon my word, you don’t at all know how to spend it. Money appears to you no use except to get interest on it. I, on the other hand, don’t know how to make it, but I know thoroughly how to spend it. It procures me a thousand things of which you don’t know the name. We were cut out for brothers-in-law. We complete one another admirably.”
Andermatt murmured: “What stuff! No, you sha’n’t have five thousand francs, but I’ll lend you fifteen hundred francs, because — because in a few days I shall, perhaps, have need of you.”
Gontran rejoined: “Then I accept them on account.” The other gave him a slap on the shoulder without saying anything by way of answer.
They reached the park, which was illuminated with lamps hung to the branches of the trees. The orchestra of the Casino was playing in slow time a classical piece that seemed to stagger along, full of breaks and silences, executed by the same four performers, exhausted with constant playing, morning and evening, in this solitude for the benefit of the leaves and the brook, with trying to produce the effect of twenty instruments, and tired also of never being fully paid at the end of the month. Petrus Martel always completed their remuneration, when it fell short, with hampers of wine or pints of liqueurs which the bathers might have left unconsumed.
Amid the noise of the concert could also be distinguished that of the billiard-table, the clicking of the balls and the voices calling out: “Twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two.”
Andermatt and Gontran went in. M. Aubry-Pasteur and Doctor Honorat, by themselves, were drinking their coffee, at the side facing the musicians. Petrus Martel and Lapalme were playing their game with desperation; and the female attendant woke up to ask:
“What do these gentlemen wish to take?”
French