The Works of Guy de Maupassant, Volume 3 (of 8) eBook

Alas! we who knew how to avenge our comrade, ought to have thought that this woman would know how to avenge her husband, and have been on our guard.  It is true that one of us kept watch every night, and that at first we tied her by a long rope to the great oak bench that was fastened to the wall.  But, by and by, as she had never tried to escape, in spite of her hatred for us, we relaxed our extreme prudence, and allowed her to sleep somewhere else except on the bench, and without being tied.  What had we to fear?  She was at the end of the room, a man was on guard at the door, and between her and the sentinel the captain’s wife and two other men used to lie.  She was alone and unarmed against four, so there could be no danger.

One night when we were asleep, and the captain was on guard, the lancer’s wife was lying more quietly in her corner than usual, and she had even smiled for the first time since she had been our prisoner, during the evening.  Suddenly, however, in the middle of the night, we were all awakened by a terrible cry.  We got up, groping about and scarcely were we up when we stumbled over a furious couple who were rolling about and fighting on the ground.  It was the captain and the lancer’s wife.  We threw ourselves on to them, and separated them in a moment.  She was shouting and laughing, and he seemed to have the death rattle.  All this took place in the dark.  Two of us held her, and when a light was struck, a terrible sight met our eyes.  The captain was lying on the floor in a pool of blood, with an enormous wound in his throat, and his sword bayonet that had been taken from his rifle, was sticking in the red, gaping wound.  A few minutes afterwards he died, without having been able to utter a word.

His wife did not shed a tear.  Her eyes were dry, her throat was contracted, and she looked at the lancer’s wife steadfastly, and with a calm ferocity that inspired fear.

“This woman belongs to me,” she said to us suddenly.  “You swore to me not a week ago, to let me kill her as I chose, if she killed my husband, and you must keep your oath.  You must fasten her securely to the fireplace, upright against the back of it, and then you can go where you like, but far from here.  I will take my revenge on her to myself.  Leave the captain’s body, and we three, he, she, and I, will remain here.”

We obeyed and went away.  She promised to write to us to Geneva, as we were returning there.

VI

Two days later, I received the following letter, dated the day after we had left, and that had been written at an inn on the high road: 

     “MY FRIEND,

     “I am writing to you, according to my promise.  For the moment I am
     at the inn, where I have just handed my prisoner over to a Prussian
     officer.