Rose was choking, and she grew scarlet, while her
tears suddenly stopped and dried up on her cheeks,
like drops of water on hot iron, and she exclaimed:
“No, it is not he, it is not he!” “Is
that really a fact?” asked the cunning peasant,
who partly guessed the truth; and she replied, hastily:
“I will swear it; I will swear it to you—”
She tried to think of something by which to swear,
as she did not venture to invoke sacred things, but
he interrupted her: “At any rate, he used
to follow you into every corner and devoured you with
his eyes at meal times. Did you ever give him
your promise, eh?”
This time she looked her master straight in the face.
“No, never, never; I will solemnly swear to
you that if he were to come to-day and ask me to marry
him I would have nothing to do with him.”
She spoke with such an air of sincerity that the farmer
hesitated, and then he continued, as if speaking to
himself: “What, then? You have not
had a misfortune, as they call it, or it would have
been known, and as it has no consequences, no girl
would refuse her master on that account. There
must be something at the bottom of it, however.”
She could say nothing; she had not the strength to
speak, and he asked her again: “You will
not?” “I cannot, master,” she said,
with a sigh, and he turned on his heel.
She thought she had got rid of him altogether and
spent the rest of the day almost tranquilly, but was
as exhausted as if she had been turning the thrashing
machine all day in the place of the old white horse,
and she went to bed as soon as she could and fell
asleep immediately. In the middle of the night,
however, two hands touching the bed woke her.
She trembled with fear, but immediately recognized
the farmer’s voice, when he said to her:
“Don’t be frightened, Rose; I have come
to speak to you.” She was surprised at
first, but when he tried to take liberties with her
she understood and began to tremble violently, as she
felt quite alone in the darkness, still heavy from
sleep, and quite unprotected, with that man standing
near her. She certainly did not consent, but she
resisted carelessly struggling against that instinct
which is always strong in simple natures and very
imperfectly protected by the undecided will of inert
and gentle races. She turned her head now to the
wall, and now toward the room, in order to avoid the
attentions which the farmer tried to press on her,
but she was weakened by fatigue, while he became brutal,
intoxicated by desire.
They lived together as man and wife, and one morning
he said to her: “I have put up our banns,
and we will get married next month.”
She did not reply, for what could she say? She
did not resist, for what could she do?
PART IV
She married him. She felt as if she were in a
pit with inaccessible sides from which she could never
get out, and all kinds of misfortunes were hanging
over her head, like huge rocks, which would fall on
the first occasion. Her husband gave her the
impression of a man whom she had robbed, and who would
find it out some day or other. And then she thought
of her child, who was the cause of her misfortunes,
but who was also the cause of all her happiness on
earth, and whom she went to see twice a year, though
she came back more unhappy each time.
