Staunton vindicator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1860-1896, 1891-08-14
MS eve his new mouse and his new mis-.

->~>~
tress.
+ The day was beginning to dawn next
morning when Mother Patin heard, I'M
mistakable and distinct, a voice, strong
sonorous, rolling, the voice of Patin, cry
ing:
ssWill We get upP'
She was so frightened that she hid he.
head under the sheets, for every morning
aforetime, as soon as he opened his eyes
her dead husband used to shout in her cal
these words, which she well remembered.
Shaking, rolling in a ball, her back bent
before the blow she expected, she muttered
her face hidden in the pillows:
'Oh, Lord, there he is! Oh, Lord, it's he
He's come backl Oh, Lordr'
Minutes passed; no further sound broke
the silence of the room. Finally, trem-
bling, she raised her head sure that he was
there, waiting, about to strike.
She saw nothing save ray of sunshine
coming through the window, and she
thought:
''He's hidden, for sure"
She waited long time, then, little re
assured, thought:
81 guess | must have dreamed; he don't
show himself"
She was closing her eyes again, when
there burst out, right in her ear, the rag
ing voice, the voice of thunder of the
drowned man, vociferating:
'sBlank to blank to blank, to blank, will
you get up, you?'-
She leaped out of bed, forced by her in
stinct of obedience, her whipped woman's
impulse to obey, that moves her still after
four years, and will always move her, and
will forever respond to that voice! And
she spoke:
"Here I am, Patin-what is it?"
But Patin answered not.
Then, distracted, she looked about her
examining everywhere, in the wardrobe
in the chimney, under the bed, finding nc
one Finally she fell on Il chair, desperate
with misery, convinced that only the sou
Of Patin was there. near her, come back te
torment her.
Suddenly she thought of the garrett
which one could get into from the outside
by means of a ladder. For sure, he was
hidden there to surprise her. Captured by
savages somewhere he could not get away
any sooner. and now he was back, wickedel
than ever. There was no mistake about
it, the sound of his voice was enough.
She asked, lifting her face toward the
Patin did not reply.
Then she went out, and in fear and trem
bling, ler very heart shaking, she climbed
the ladder, opened the trap door, looked
saw nothing, went in, searched, and found
no one.
Sitting down on truss of hay she com
menced to cry; but while she was sobbing
pierced by a poignant and supernatural
fear, she heard in the room below hel
Patin talking He seemed less in a rage
more easy, and he was saying:
''Dirty weather! Hard wind Dirty
weather! I've had no breakfast, damn itr
She sang out through the ceiling:
''Here 1 am, Patin! Pm going to make
your soup. Don't be mad, Pm coming!"
And she came down again. running.
There was no one there.
She felt herself as faint as if death had
touched her, and she was starting to flee
for help to the neighbors, when the voice
cried, right in her ear:
''I've had no breakfast, dammep'
And the parrot in his cage looked at her
with his little round eye, sly and wicked.
She, too, looked at him, dismayed, muir
muring:
"Ah! it's you'll"
He began again, wagging his head:
"Wait, wait, wait, I'll teach you to
skulk, will!''
What passed in her mind? She felt, she
realized, that it was he, sure enough, the
dead man, who walked again, who came
back hidden in the feathers of this bird tc
torment her once more, to swear as be-
fore, all day, and bite her, and shout at he1
to bring the neighbors and make them
laugh at her.
She rushed on the cage, opened it, seized
the bird, which, defending himself, tore
her flesh with beak and claws But she
held him with all her strength, with both
hands, and throwing herself on the ground
rolled upon him with the frenzy of mad
woman, crushing him, making of him a
shred of flesh, a little soft green thing that
no longer moved, no longer spoke, hung
limp; then wrapping him up in towel, as
in a shroud, she ran out in her ohemise,
barefooted, to the edge of the quay, which
the sea was tapping in little waves, and,
shaking the cloth, she let fall into the
water the little dead thing that looked
like a handful of grass. Then she came
back, threw herself on her knees before
the empty cage, and, upset completely by
what she had done, besought pardon of the
good Lord, sobbing as if she had commit
ted some frightful crime.-Translated from
the French of Guy de Maupassant by Fred
eric Hart Wilson for Short Stories.