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CAPTAIN BURLE-Part6_Emile Zola(1840-1902)_Translated Works(翻译文学)

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orderly to find out if the acceptance had arrived. He lost his
sleep and, careless as to people's remarks, he leaned more and more

heavily on his stick, hobbling about with no attempt to steady his
gait.

On the day before that fixed for the inspection he was, as usual, on
his way to the colonel's quarters when he paused, startled, to see

Mme Burle (who was taking Charles to school) a few paces ahead of
him. He had not met her since the scene at the Cafe de Paris, for

she had remained in seclusion at home. Unmanned at thus meeting
her, he stepped down to leave the whole sidewalk free. Neither he

nor the old lady bowed, and the little boy lifted his large
inquisitive eyes in mute surprise. Mme Burle, cold and erect,

brushed past the major without the least sign of emotion or
recognition. When she had passed he looked after her with an

expression of stupefied compassion.
"Confound it, I am no longer a man," he growled, dashing away a

tear.
When he arrived at the colonel's quarters a captain in attendance

greeted him with the words: "It's all right at last. The papers
have come."

"Ah!" murmured Laguitte, growing very pale.
And again he beheld the old lady walking on, relentlessly rigid and

holding the little boy's hand. What! He had longed so eagerly for
those papers for eight days past, and now when the scraps had come

he felt his brain on fire and his heart lacerated.
The duel took place on the morrow, in the barrack yard behind a low

wall. The air was keen, the sun shining brightly. Laguitte had
almost to be carried to the ground; one of his seconds supported him

on one side, while on the other he leaned heavily, on his stick.
Burle looked half asleep; his face was puffy with unhealthy fat, as

if he had spent a night of debauchery. Not a word was spoken. They
were all anxious to have it over.

Captain Doucet crossed the swords of the two adversaries and then
drew back, saying: "Set to, gentlemen."

Burle was the first to attack; he wanted to test Laguitte's strength
and ascertain what he had to expect. For the last ten days the

encounter had seemed to him a ghastlynightmare which he could not
fathom. At times a hideoussuspicion assailed him, but he put it

aside with terror, for it meant death, and he refused to believe
that a friend could play him such a trick, even to set things right.

Besides, Laguitte's leg reasssured him; he would prick the major on
the shoulder, and then all would be over.

During well-nigh a couple of minutes the swords clashed, and then
the captain lunged, but the major, recovering his old suppleness of

wrist, parried in a masterly style, and if he had returned the
attack Burle would have been pierced through. The captain now fell

back; he was livid, for he felt that he was at the mercy of the man
who had just spared him. At last he understood that this was an

execution.
Laguitte, squarely poised on his infirm legs and seemingly turned to

stone, stood waiting. The two men looked at each other fixedly. In
Burle's blurred eyes there arose a supplication--a prayer for

pardon. He knew why he was going to die, and like a child he
promised not to transgress again. But the major's eyes remained

implacable; honor had spoken, and he silenced his emotion and his
pity.

"Let it end," he muttered between his teeth.
Then it was he who attacked. Like a flash of lightning his sword

flamed, flying from right to left, and then with a resistless thrust
it pierced the breast of the captain, who fell like a log without

even a groan.
Laguitte had released his hold upon his sword and stood gazing at

that poor old rascal Burle, who was stretched upon his back with his
fat stomach bulging out.

"Oh, my God! My God!" repeated the major furiously and
despairingly, and then he began to swear.

They led him away, and, both his legs failing him, he had to be
supported on either side, for he could not even use his stick.

Two months later the ex-major was crawling slowly along in the
sunlight down a lonely street of Vauchamp, when he again found

himself face to face with Mme Burle and little Charles. They were
both in deep mourning. He tried to avoid them, but he now only

walked with difficulty, and they advanced straight upon him without
hurrying or slackening their steps. Charles still had the same

gentle, girlish, frightened face, and Mme Burle retained her stern,
rigid demeanor, looking even harsher than ever.

As Laguitte shrank into the corner of a doorway to leave the whole
street to them, she abruptly stopped in front of him and stretched

out her hand. He hesitated and then took it and pressed it, but he
trembled so violently that he made the old lady's arm shake. They

exchanged glances in silence.
"Charles," said the boy's grandmother at last, "shake hands with the

major." The boy obeyed without understanding. The major, who was
very pale, barely ventured to touch the child's frail fingers; then,

feeling that he ought to speak, he stammered out: "You still intend
to send him to Saint-Cyr?"

"Of course, when he is old enough," answered Mme Burle.
But during the following week Charles was carried off by typhoid

fever. One evening his grandmother had again read him the story of
the Vengeur to make him bold, and in the night he had become

delirious. The poor little fellow died of fright.
End




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