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THE MILLER'S DAUGHTER-Part1_Emile Zola(1840-1902)_Translated Works(翻译文学)-第2页

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peasants could not clearly discover, at length gave him a bad

reputation. He was vaguely styled a poacher. At any rate, he was



lazy, for he was often found asleep on the grass when he should have

been at work. The hut he inhabited beneath the last trees on the



edge of the forest did not seem at all like the dwelling of an

honest young fellow. If he had had dealings with the wolves of the



ruins of Gagny the old women would not have been the least bit

surprised. Nevertheless, the young girls sometimes risked defending



him, for this doubtful man was superb; supple and tall as a poplar,

he had a very white skin, with flaxen hair and beard which gleamed



like gold in the sun.

One fine morning Francoise declared to Pere Merlier that she loved



Dominique and would never wed any other man.

It may well be imagined what a blow this was to Pere Merlier. He



said nothing, according to his custom, but his face grew thoughtful

and his internalgaiety no longer sparkled in his eyes. He looked



gruff for a week. Francoise also was exceedingly grave. What

tormented Pere Merlier was to find out how this rogue of a poacher



had managed to fascinate his daughter. Dominique had never visited

the mill. The miller watched and saw the gallant on the other side



of the Morelle, stretched out upon the grass and feigning to be

asleep. Francoise could see him from her chamber window.



Everything was plain: they had fallen in love by casting sheep's

eyes at each other over the mill wheel.



Another week went by. Francoise became more and more grave. Pere

Merlier still said nothing. Then one evening he himself silently



brought in Dominique. Francoise at that moment was setting the

table. She did not seem astonished; she contented herself with



putting on an additional plate, knife and fork, but the little

dimples were again seen in her cheeks, and her smile reappeared.



That morning Pere Merlier had sought out Dominique in his hut on the

border of the wood.



There the two men had talked for three hours with doors and windows

closed. What was the purport of their conversation no one ever



knew. Certain it was, however, that Pere Merlier, on taking his

departure, already called Dominique his son-in-law. Without doubt



the old man had found the youth he had gone to seek a worthy youth

in the lazy fellow who stretched himself out upon the grass to make



the girls fall in love with him.

All Rocreuse clamored. The women at the doors had plenty to say on



the subject of the folly of Pere Merlier, who had thus introduced a

reprobate into his house. The miller let people talk on. Perhaps



he remembered his own marriage. He was without a sou when he wedded

Madeleine and her mill; this, however, had not prevented him from



making a good husband. Besides, Dominique cut short the gossip by

going so vigorously to work that all the district was amazed. The



miller's assistant had just been drawn to serve as a soldier, and

Dominique would not suffer another to be engaged. He carried the



sacks, drove the cart, fought with the old mill wheel when it

refused to turn, and all this with such good will that people came



to see him out of curiosity. Pere Merlier had his silent laugh. He

was excessively proud of having formed a correct estimate of this



youth. There is nothing like love to give courage to young folks.

Amid all these heavy labors Francoise and Dominique adored each



other. They did not indulge in lovers' talks, but there was a

smiling gentleness in their glances.



Up to that time Pere Merlier had not spoken a single word on the

subject of marriage, and they respected this silence, awaiting the



old man's will. Finally one day toward the middle of July he caused

three tables to be placed in the courtyard, beneath the great elm,



and invited his friends of Rocreuse to come in the evening and drink

a glass of wine with him.



When the courtyard was full and all had their glasses in their

hands, Pere Merlier raised his very high and said:



"I have the pleasure to announce to you that Francoise will wed this

young fellow here in a month, on Saint Louis's Day."



Then they drank noisily. Everybody smiled. But Pere Merlier, again

lifting his voice, exclaimed:



"Dominique, embrace your fiancee. It is your right."

They embraced, blushing to the tips of their ears, while all the






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