The Works of Guy de Maupassant, Volume 2 (of 8) eBook
Guy de Maupassant
I almost envied those unfortunate wretches who had
the right to be jealous, who had to fight against
a woman’s coquettes and light behavior, and
who had to defend their honor that was threatened by
some poacher on the preserves of love. They had
a target to aim at; they knew their enemies and knew
what they were doing, while I was wounding in a land
of terrible mirages, was struggling in the midst of
vague suppositions, and was causing my own troubles
and was enraged with her past, which was, I felt sure,
as white and pure as any bridal veil.
Ah! It would be better to blow my brains out,
I thought to myself, than to prolong such a situation!
I had had enough of it. I scarcely lived, and
I wished to know all that Elaine had done before we
became engaged. I wanted to know whether I was
the first or the second, and I determined to know
it, even if I had to sacrifice years of my life in
inquiry, and to lower myself to compromising words
and acts, and to every species of artifice and to
spend everything that I possessed!
She might believe whatever she liked, for after all,
I should only laugh at it. We might have been
so happy, and there were so many who envied me, and
who would gladly have consented to take my place!
PART XI
I no longer knew where I was going, but was like a
train going at full speed through a dense fog, and
which in vain disturbs the perfect silence of the
sleeping country with its puffing and shrill whistles;
when the driver cannot distinguish the changing lights
of the discs, nor the signals, and when soon some
terrible crash will send the train off the rails,
and the carriages will become a heap of ruins.
I was afraid of going mad, and at times I asked myself
whether any of my family had shown any signs of mental
aberration, and had been locked up in a lunatic asylum,
and whether the life of constant fast pleasures, of
turning night into day and of frequent violent emotions,
that I had led for years, had not at last affected
my brain. If I had believed in anything, and
in the science of the occult, which haunts so many
restless brains, I should have imagined that some enemy
was bewitching me and laying invisible snares for
me, that he was suggesting those actions which were
quite unworthy of the frank, upright and well-bred
man that I was, and was trying to destroy the happiness
of which she and I had dreamt.
For a whole week I devoted myself to that hateful
business of playing the spy, and to those inquiries
which were killing me. I had succeeded in discovering
the lady’s maid who had been in Elaine’s
service before we were married, and whom she loved
as if she had been her foster sister, who used to
accompany her whenever she went out, when she went
to visit the poor and when she went for a walk, who
used to wake her every morning, do her hair and dress
her. She was young and rather pretty, and one
saw that Paris had improved her and given her a polish,
and that she knew her difficult business from end to
end.