Three short works / The Dance of Death, the Legend of Saint Julian the Hospitaller, a Simple Soul.

ld walk up the aisle between the double lines of chair

priest stood beside the reading-desk; on one stained window of the side-aisle the Holy Ghost hovered over the Virgin; on anot

of His wrath. Then, when she listened to the Passion, she wept. Why had they crucified Him who loved little children, nourished the people, made the blind see, and who, out of humility, had wished to be born among the poor, in a stable? The sowings, the har

ath? Perhaps it is its light that at night hovers over swamps, its breath that propels the clouds, its voice that render

ursed, the children recited, and she went to sleep, only to awaken with a start when

r youth; and thenceforth she imitated all Virginia's religious practises, fasted when she d

fussed about the shoes, the rosary, the book and the gloves.

heads bent and there was a silence. Then, at the peals of the organ the singers and the worshippers struck up the Agnus Dei; the boys' procession began; behind them came the girls. With clasped hands, they advanced step by step to the lighted altar, knelt at the first step, received one by one the Host, and returned to their seats in th

to receive communion from the curé. She took it with the proper fee

daughter; and as Guyot could not teach English nor musi

e things were beyond her sphere. Finally, one day, an old fiacre stopped in front of the door and a nun stepped out. Félicité put Virginia's lugg

again and again, while the latter kissed her on her forehead, and said: "

including the two Lormeaus, Madame Lechaptois, the ladies Rochefeuille, Mes

imes a week and the other days she, herself, wrote to Virginia. Then she walked in the

ucking her in her bed, and the bright face and little hand when they used to go out for a walk. In order to occupy herself she tried

on, she asked leave to receive

pposite each other, and eat their dinner; she ate as little as possible, herself, to avoid any extra expense, but would stuff him so with food that he would finally go

sugar, or soap, or brandy, and sometimes even money. He brought her his clothes t

ther took him on

Paul was capricious, and Virginia was growing too old to be thee-and-thou'

a box of shells; the second, a coffee-cup; the third, a big doll of ginger-bread. He was growing handsome, had a good figure, a tiny moustache, kind

en engaged on merchant-vessel and that in two days he would take the steamer at Honfleur and jo

bid him farewell, on Wednesday night, after Madame's dinner, she put on her

; some people she spoke to advised her to hasten. She walked helplessly around the harbour filled with vessels, and knocked against hawsers. Prese

mong barrels of cider, baskets of cheese and bags of meal; chickens cackled, the captain swore and a cabin-boy rested on the railing, apparently indifferent to his surroun

at up against her sides. The sail had turned and nobody was visible;-and on the ocean, silvered by the

a long while she prayed, with uplifted eyes and a face wet with tears. The city was sleeping; some customs officials were

ould annoy Madame; so, in spite of her desire to see the other child, she wen

rmed her. One can come back from England and Brittany; but America, the colonies

that rattled in the chimney and dislodged the tiles on the roof, she imagined that he was being buffeted by the same storm, perched on top of a shattered mast, with his whole body bent backward and covered wi

worried abou

piano lessons. Her mother insisted upon regular letters from the convent. One morning, when the postman failed to come, she g

r mistress by her own

ven't had any news

m wh

nt replie

om my n

o pace the floor as if to say: "I did not think of it.-Besides, I do not care,

reared roughly, was very indig

to her that one should los

rtance; they were united in her hea

her that Victor's ves

e information

nations concerning longitudes, and smiled with superiority at Félicité's bewilderment. At last, he took his pencil and pointed out an imperceptible black point in the scallops of an oval blotch, adding: "There it is." She bent over the map; the maze of coloured lines hurt her eyes without enlightening her; and when Bourais asked her w

market-time, and handed her a letter from her brother-in-law.

ork down beside her, opened the letter, started, and in a low tone and w

he letter told

nd closed her lids; presently they grew pink. Then, with droopi

chap! poor

and sighed. Madame A

girl to go see her

Félicité replied tha

Liébard thought it about

licité

sympathy, they

e to time, mechanically, she toyed with t

ough the yard with a

red her own wash; as she had soaked it the day before, she

eighbouring gardens. The meadows were empty, the breeze wrinkled the stream, at the bottom of which were long grasses that looked like the hair of corpses floating in the water. She restr

unded his death. At the hospital they had bled him too much, treating him for yellow fever.

es anoth

eferred not to see them again, and they made no advanc

was growi

e. Monsieur Poupart had advised a sojourn in Provence. Madame Aubain decided that they would go, and

m and treading the dead vine leaves. Sometimes the sun, shining through the clouds, made her blink her lids, when she gazed at the sails in the distance, and let her eyes roam over the horizon from the chateau of Tancarville

er an errand, she met M. Boupart's coach in front of the door; M. Boupart himself was standing in the vestibule and Madame A

on of the lungs; perh

into the carriage, while the snow fell in th

after an hour's chase, sprang up behind and held on to the straps. But suddenly a thought cross

but had left again. Then she waited at the inn, thinking that strangers might

bout at the middle of it, she heard strange noises, a funeral knell. "It mu

d a nun appeared. The good sister, with an air of compunction, told her that "she h

ix inclined toward her, and stiff curtains which were less white than her face. Madame Aubain lay at the foot of the couch, clasping it with her arms and uttering groans of agony. The Mother S

nge, the lips grew blue, the nose grew pinched, the eyes were sunken. She kissed them several times and would not have been greatly astonished had Virginia opened them; to souls like these the supernatural is always quite simple. She washed her, wrapped he

cording to Madame Aubain's wishes; she

and then came the principal inhabitants of the town, the women covered with black capes, and Félicité. The memory of her nephew, and the th

o! she ought to have taken her South. Other doctors would have saved her. She accused herself, prayed to be able to join her child, and cried in the midst of her dreams. Of the latter, one more especially haunted

and she showed the place), the father and daughter had appeare

. Félicité scolded her gently; she must keep up for

ing, "Oh! yes, yes, you do not forget her!" This was an allusio

f pink marble with a flat stone at its base, and it was surrounded by a little plot enclosed by chains. The flower-beds were bright with blossoms. Félicité watered their leave

ffer the hallowed bread; at that time, Bourais disappeared mysteriously; and the old acquaintances, Guyot, Liébard, Madame Lechaptois, Robelin, old Grémanville, paralysed since a long time, passed away one by one. One night, the driver of the mail in Pont-l'Ev?que announced the Revolution of July. A few days afterward a new sub-prefect was nominated, the Baron de Larsonni?re, ex-consul in America,

id his debts and he made fresh ones; and the sighs that she heaved while she kni

nd asking each other if such and such a thing would have pleased h

le beds. But Madame Aubain looked them over as little as possible. One summer day, howe

ain. The sun fell on the piteous things, disclosing their spots and the creases formed by the motions of the body. The atmosphere was warm and blue, and a blackbird trilled in the garden; everything seemed to live in happiness. They found a little hat of soft brown plush, but

n expansive nature. Félicité was as grateful for it as if it had been some favour

d give the soldiers a drink. She nursed cholera victims. She protected Polish refugees, and one of them even declared that he wished to marry her. But they quarr

ear the river in the ruins of a pig-sty. The urchins peeped at him through the cracks in the walls and threw stones that fell on

she dressed it every day; sometimes she brought him some cake and placed him in the sun on a bundle of hay; and the poor old creature, trembling and droo

the perch and chain and lock. A note from the baroness told Madame Aubain that as her husband had been promoted to a pre

d, because he came from America, which reminded her of

n, she h

ame would be

istress who, not being able to keep the b