Fleur

“ Fleur-de-Marie and Clémence started at Rodolph's words and manner, while, fixing an earnest gaze on his daughter, the prince said, abruptly:
"What think you, my child, of your cousin, Prince Henry?"
The brightest blush spread over the fair face of Fleur-de-Marie, who, after a momentary hesitation, threw herself weeping in her father's arms. [Pg 255]
"Then you love him, do you not, my darling child?" cried Rodolph, tenderly pressing her hands. "Fear not to confide the truth to your best friends." ”

“ The hour of nine had struck on the Bouqueval clock, when Madame Georges softly entered the chamber of Fleur-de-Marie. The light slumber of the young girl was quickly broken, and she awoke to find her kind friend standing by her bedside. A brilliant winter's sun darted its rays through the blinds and chintz window-curtains, the pink linings of which cast a bright glow on the pale countenance of La Goualeuse, giving it the look of health it so greatly needed. ”

“ The clear and white complexion of Fleur-de-Marie, generally rather pale, was now heightened by the brightest colour. Her large blue eyes sparkled brightly, her vermilion lips, partly opened to recover her breath, displayed two rows of liquid pearls; her bosom throbbed under her worn-out little orange shawl, and she placed one of her hands upon her heart, as if to restrain its quickened pulsation, whilst with the other hand she proffered to Rodolph the bouquet of field flowers which she had just gathered. ”

“ What is the use of regretting that I walk the streets, since I shall die in the streets?" exclaimed La Louve, more and more irritated, and taking in her powerful grasp the small hand of Fleur-de-Marie. "Answer—answer! Why do you try to make me desire that which I cannot have."
"To desire an honest and industrious life is to be worthy of that life, as I have already told you," replied Fleur-de-Marie, without attempting to disengage her hand. ”

“ I am attending to you," replied Fleur-de-Marie, stooping her lovely face towards the hideous countenance of her companion.
"Ah, you'll laugh at me," she replied, sorrowfully. "I want to say something, and I do not know how."
"Oh, yes, say it, Mont Saint-Jean!"
"How kind you look always," said the prisoner, looking [Pg 230] at Fleur-de-Marie in a sort of ecstasy; "your eyes encourage me,—those kind eyes! Well, then, I will try and say what I wish: There is the sun, is it not? It is so warm, it lights up the prison, it is very pleasant to see and feel, isn't it?" ”

“ But take courage, my lord, bear up, as becomes one of your firm, right-minded nature. Directly Fleur-de-Marie is equal to the journey, remove her to Germany; once there, she will benefit so greatly by the grave tranquillity of the country that her mind and feelings will be soothed and calmed down to a placidity and gentle enjoyment of the present, while the past will seem but as a troubled dream. ”

“ Not a leaf stirs, not a bird is heard to sing."
"That is true," repeated La Louve, mechanically, who, forgetting more and more the reality, believed almost that she saw displayed before her eyes the smiling pictures described by the poetic imagination of Fleur-de-Marie, instinctively a lover of the beauties of nature. ”

“ Directly the marquise saw her, she ran and embraced her, exclaiming:
"My poor dear child! What happiness does it not afford me to find you thus in life and safety, when I believed you dead!"
"Be assured, madame," answered Fleur-de-Marie, as she gracefully and modestly returned the affectionate pressure of Madame d'Harville, "that I have equal pleasure in seeing again one whose former kindness has made so deep an impression on my heart!" ”

“ Fleur-de-Marie had thought, with reason, that if her companion would suffer herself to be sufficiently moved at this picture of a rough, poor, and solitary life, to ardently desire to live such a one, this woman would deserve interest and pity.
Enchanted at seeing her companion listen with curiosity, La Goualeuse continued, smiling: "And, then you see Madame Martial—let me call you so, what do you care?"
"On the contrary, it flatters me," said La Louve, shrugging her shoulders, but smiling. "What folly—to play Madame! What children we are! Never mind, go on—it is amusing. ”

“ From the moment in which she had learnt from Rodolph the violent death of Fleur-de-Marie, Sarah had felt crushed and borne down by a disclosure so fatal to all her ambitious hopes. Tortured equally by a too late repentance, she had fallen into a fearful nervous attack, attended even by delirium; her partially healed wound opened afresh, and a long continuation of fainting fits gave rise to the supposition of her death. Yet still the natural strength of her constitution sustained her even amid this severe shock, and life seemed to struggle vigorously against death. ”

“ I am no worse than others."
"Nor we neither."
"A poor little innocent!"
"Who would have a heart to hurt it?"
"Must be a monster!"
"No hearts!"
"Wild beasts!"
"I told you truly," said Fleur-de-Marie. "That you were not cruel. You are kind; your error is not reflecting that Mont Saint Jean deserves as much compassion as though she had her child in her arms, that's all."
"That's all!" cried La Louve, with warmth; "no, that's not all. You were right, La Goualeuse; we were cowards, and you were brave in daring to tell us so; and you are brave in not trembling after having told us. ”

“ Despise and blush for you!—never! You shall take your place among the first princesses of Europe, and prove yourself worthy of the blood of queens which flows in your veins."
"My lord! My lord!" cried Clémence and Murphy at the same time, equally alarmed at the excited manner of Rodolph, and the increasing paleness of Fleur-de-Marie, who gazed on her father in silent amazement. ”

“ Yes, as Fleur-de-Marie spoke, La Louve had yearned to be an indefatigable housekeeper, an honest wife, a pious and devoted mother. To inspire, even for a moment, a violent, immoral, degraded woman, with a love of family, the respect of duty, the desire to labor, gratitude toward the Creator, and that by promising her merely what God gives to all, the sun of Heaven and the shade of the forest, what man owes to the sweat of his brow, bread and shelter—was it not a triumph for Fleur-de-Marie? ”

“ The yellow and red of the Spaniards becomes easily distinguishable, then the white and blue and gold of the French, the green of the arquebusiers, the black of the archers, and even that tiny moving speck, more brilliant even than the gleam of metal, the white banner of France, sown with her Fleur de Lys.
But the watchers up on the ramparts vainly strain their hollow eyes to see the man who has come to save Cambray. They can only guess that he is there, where the fight is fiercest, where death stands most grim and most relentless. ”

“ But these dispiriting thoughts were soon effaced from Fleur-de-Marie's mind before the hope of seeing Bouqueval once more, with Madame Georges and Rodolph, to whom she meant to intercede for La Louve and Martial. It even seemed to her that the warm feeling which she reproached herself for having of her benefactor, being no longer nourished by sadness and solitude, would be calmed down as soon as she resumed her rustic occupations, which she so much delighted in sharing with the good and simple inhabitants of the farm. ”

“ The carriage went away at a great speed, and the two servants conveyed the Chourineur to the low apartment in which the orgies had taken place; several of the women were still there.
"My poor, dear child!" said Rodolph, to his daughter, "let me take you to some room in this place where you can await me, for I cannot abandon this brave fellow, who has again saved my life."
"Oh, my dearest father, I entreat you do not leave me!" exclaimed Fleur-de-Marie, with alarm, and seizing Rodolph's arm. "Do not leave me alone! I should die with fright! Where you go I will go!" ”

“ Poor girl! She is cold and dead. But, no, no!" exclaimed La Louve, stooping still more closely over Fleur-de-Marie, and, as she did so, finding a faint—indeed, almost imperceptible—breath escape her lips; "no, she lives! Merciful Father, she breathes! And 'tis I have snatched her from death! I, who never yet saved any one! Oh, how happy the thought makes me! My heart glows with a new delight. How thankful I feel that none but I saved her! Ha! but my man,—I must save him also. Perhaps he is even now in his death-throes—his mother and brother are even wretches [Pg 284] enough to murder him! ”

“ The sight of these poor little fatherless things, dressed also in deep mourning, increased the pity of the spectators for the unfortunate widow, while it redoubled their indignation against Fleur-de-Marie; while Clara, completely frightened by these demonstrations of approaching violence, exclaimed, in an agitated tone, to a group of farm labourers:
"Take this woman off the premises directly! Do you not perceive grief has driven her out of her senses? Marie! dear Marie! never mind what she says. She is mad, poor creature, and knows not what she does!" ”

“ Ah, I saw it shining in the same way in the basin of the prison a little while ago! God does not forget even the poor prisoners, but allows them to have a sight of his wondrous works. Though they are separated by high stone walls from their fellow creatures, the glorious sun shows them his golden face, and sparkles and glitters upon the water there, the same as in the gardens of a king!" added Fleur-de-Marie, with pious gratitude. ”

“ Show your face, I say! You are a beauty, ain't you?" And the infuriated woman, suiting the action to the word, violently snatched the two hands of poor Fleur-de-Marie from the pale and grief-worn countenance they concealed, and down which tears were fast streaming.
The Goualeuse, sinking under a sense of shame, and terrified at finding herself thus at the mercy of her persecutors, joined her hands, and, turning towards the milk-woman her supplicating and timid looks, she said, in a gentle voice:
"Indeed, indeed, madam, I have been at the farm of Bouqueval these last two months. ”

“ I will say more, my dear daughter; if before you entered this retreat your life had been as wrong as it has been, on the contrary, pure and praiseworthy, the heavenly virtues of which you have given me an example since your abode here would expiate and ransom, in the eyes of the Lord, any past life, however culpable. And now, my dear daughter, judge if your modesty ought not to be reassured."
These words of the abbess were, as you may think, my Clémence, the more precious for Fleur-de-Marie, as she believed the past ineffaceable. ”

“ Nothing is more variable than popular passion, or more abrupt than its rapid transition from bad to good, and even the reverse. The simple yet touching arguments of Fleur-de-Marie had effected a powerful reaction in favour of Mont Saint-Jean, who shed tears of deep joy. Every heart seemed moved; for, as we have already said, the womanly feelings of the prisoners had been awakened, and they now felt a solicitude for the unhappy creature in proportion as they had formerly held her in dislike and contempt. ”

“ La Louve, if you will, personifies this fatal influence.
Other organisations, more rare, because their generous instincts must be fertilised by intelligence, and with them the mind is on an equality with the heart,—others, we say, will inspire good, as well as some inspire evil. Their wholesome influence will gently penetrate into the soul, as the warm rays of the sun penetrate the body with invigorating heat, as the arid and burning earth imbibes the fresh and grateful dew of night.
Fleur-de-Marie, if you will, personifies this benevolent influence. ”

“ And, taking the tiny feet of Fleur-de-Marie, she forcibly placed them on her shawl.
"You spoil me terribly, La Louve."
"It is not for your good behaviour, if I do; always trying to oppose me in everything I try to do for your good. Are you not very much tired? We have been walking more than half an hour; I heard twelve o'clock just strike from Asnières." ”

“ Thanks to this palliating speech, Madame d'Harville regained the confidence of La Goualeuse, for a moment impaired. Fleur-de-Marie, in her innocence, reproached herself for having misinterpreted the words which had wounded her.
"Pardon me, madame," said she; "I was doubtless wrong not to tell you at once what you wished to know; but you asked me the name of my rescuer; in spite of myself, I cannot resist the pleasure of speaking of him."
"Nothing is better; it proves how grateful you are toward him. But why have you left the good people with whom he had placed you? ”

“ At eight o'clock in the evening Fleur-de-Marie knelt and prayed until midnight, but, overpowered by her emotion and the intense cold, she fainted; two nuns instantly raised her, and bore her to her cell. David was instantly summoned, and Murphy came to me. I hastened to the convent, where the abbess assured me that my daughter's swoon, from which she had recovered, had been caused only by her weakness, but that David feared that my presence might seriously affect her. ”

“ It is night, and you must milk your heifers, prepare your supper under the shelter of the vine, for you hear your husband's dogs bark, and then their master's voice, who, tired as he is, comes home singing,—and who could not sing when on a fine summer's eve with cheerful heart you return to the house where a good wife and five children are waiting for you?—eh, Madame Martial?"
"True, true; one could not but sing," replied La Louve, becoming more and more thoughtful.
"Unless one weeps for joy," continued Fleur-de-Marie, herself much touched, "and such tears are as sweet as songs. ”