One afternoon, towards two o'clock, my father took his hat, and said to me, in rather a mysterious tone: "I must go out on an errand. I'll be back in a moment."
Half an hour later I became aware of shuffling going on outside my door. Somebody knocked.
"Come in!"
A little boy, dressed in black, appeared on the threshold. My heart gave a bound. That prominent forehead, where fair curls rolled, that straight, brilliant gaze. Victor! Victor, at five years old. Victor as he had been when my eyes had opened on him as a little child.
It was his son—little Robert.
Behind him was my sister-in-law. She came straight up to my bed, and bent down, raising her long widow's veil. We kissed each other, and I demanded my little niece Brigitte, who was shy and was burying her face in her mother's skirts.
The conversation immediately started off, quite naturally and delightfully, free of its whilom reserve. We ingenuously confessed that we had learnt to know each other, and how we had felt the mutual affection grow, in the course of these terrible months.
[Pg 501]
Madeleine had come to stay at Vichy for a few days.
"We will give you new courage," she said.
"I'm not lacking in it! You're the one who needs it, poor little sister."
"Oh! I have enough for three."
It was true enough. I was struck by her spirit of determination. And I had thought her in danger of giving way entirely beneath the blow. She spoke of nothing but the future; of her plans; of the education of her children. She thought of going to live at Versailles: the rents were not so high there as in Paris, they would be near the town, and the Lycée Hoche. For she wanted to keep Robert with her, in order that the whole family should cling together.
As my eyes were again drawn irresistibly to the little boy, she said: "Isn't he like——"
She did not complete the sentence. Tears pearled on her eyelashes. It was one of the few allusions she allowed herself, to her great sorrow.
I told her that her children would find a second father in me.
"He counted on it," she assured me.
And she showed me a note which Victor had written before leaving St. Mihiel; a few lines in which he confided those dearest to him on earth, to my charge. What instinct warned him that he would fall; that I should be preserved?
I reverently welcomed this sacred bequest. When my father had gone I should be the head of the family. New duties which I hailed with delight. And in a short time, I said to myself, Madeleine would find in Jeannine a friend, more than a friend. I think that if we had been alone it would have been to her, first of all, that I should have revealed my secret.
[Pg 502]
Those were calm days perfumed by sympathy and friendship. I had to tell the story of my campaign in full detail. Not even the children seemed bored as they listened.
Dear mites they were! Too quiet and good. I sent to a neighbouring bazaar for some toys for them. Then I drew up a plan for the future.
I asked my sister-in-law what she meant to do for the winter. It was impossible for her to go back home. The enemy had just laid hands on St. Mihiel.
"Stay in Paris," she said.
"How depressing that would be!"
I pretended to be seized with a sudden inspiration. "Suppose we all went off to the Riviera for a time, for a rest?"
The suggestion was carried unanimously. It was a landmark set up.... To draw all my belongings down there. It seemed to me that in accompanying me, they would share my joy. As for me—could I hesitate? The Landrys' departure for Antibes, seriously delayed by certain complications, was fixed for the following month. I had reminded Jeannine of her promise to come round by the Bourbon line. The matter was arranged.
I fondly imagined that I should have recovered by that date. Bujard spoke to me every day of the marvellous apparatus which was to disguise my misfortune.
My sister left again with her children, recalled to Paris by various purchases and other matters. The sweetness she had brought with her persisted. Those were radiant days.
I began to get up. First a foot out of bed, nothing[Pg 503] more. My father who was still vigorous lent me the support of his arm. My head swam when I stood up. I was just able to reach an arm-chair, and doubted whether my strength could ever come back. I was especially bewildered by the strange lack of equilibrium.
I held the crutches in abhorrence. I should never get accustomed to that. Directly it was possible, Bujard brought me a wooden stump. Frightful! However, it was a way of progressing. My left leg was able to get exercise, and regain strength, little by little. I walked up and down the landings, and the hotel garden.
I was measured for a jointed limb. Bujard had told me of an American firm which was supplying both groups of belligerents, so he assured me. I sent my order to them.
The delay demanded had seemed to me very reasonable. But, when I first began to go into the town I fell a prey to the embarrassing compassion of the passers-by. They nudged each other, when they met me.
"Another one!"
"Poor fellow!"
I, who aspired to losing myself in the crowd, like other people!
I happened just then to come across the prospectus of an English firm, which offered to provide the whole thing complete in a fortnight, at a price defying all competition!
"A hoax!" Bujard warned me.
It couldn't be helped. I was consumed with impatience. I wrote, enclosing my cheque. We should see. It would be well worth the twelve pounds it would cost me.
[Pg 504]
Those were happy weeks, I repeat. I went before a Board; I was passed, and left the hospital. I was free! And had the satisfaction of feeling that I had paid my debt to the full.
I wrote letters, and received them. Madeleine wrote me jewels of sisterly affection. Guillaumin, for his part, sent me picturesque epistles. They had had a rough time again, at the beginning of October, round Champieu and De Roye.
Since then, trench warfare had been inaugurated: they were settling down for the winter. There was not a wo............