Chapter XIV

by Emile Zola

　　Nana suddenly disappeared. It was a fresh plunge, an escapade, aflight into barbarous regions. Before her departure she had treatedherself to a new sensation: she had held a sale and had made a cleansweep of everything--house, furniture, jewelry, nay, even dressesand linen. Prices were cited--the five days' sale produced morethan six hundred thousand francs. For the last time Paris had seenher in a fairy piece. It was called Melusine, and it played at theTheatre de la Gaite, which the penniless Bordenave had taken out ofsheer audacity. Here she again found herself in company withPrulliere and Fontan. Her part was simply spectacular, but it wasthe great attraction of the piece, consisting, as it did, of threeposes plastiques, each of which represented the same dumb andpuissant fairy. Then one fine morning amid his grand success, whenBordenave, who was mad after advertisement, kept firing the Parisianimagination with colossal posters, it became known that she musthave started for Cairo the previous day. She had simply had a fewwords with her manager. Something had been said which did notplease her; the whole thing was the caprice of a woman who is toorich to let herself be annoyed. Besides, she had indulged an oldinfatuation, for she had long meditated visiting the Turks.Months passed--she began to be forgotten. When her name wasmentioned among the ladies and gentlemen, the strangest stories weretold, and everybody gave the most contradictory and at the same timeprodigious information. She had made a conquest of the viceroy; shewas reigning, in the recesses of a palace, over two hundred slaveswhose heads she now and then cut off for the sake of a littleamusement. No, not at all! She had ruined herself with a great bignigger! A filthy passion this, which had left her wallowing withouta chemise to her back in the crapulous debauchery of Cairo. Afortnight later much astonishment was produced when someone swore tohaving met her in Russia. A legend began to be formed: she was themistress of a prince, and her diamonds were mentioned. All thewomen were soon acquainted with them from the current descriptions,but nobody could cite the precise source of all this information.There were finger rings, earrings, bracelets, a reviere ofphenomenal width, a queenly diadem surmounted by a central brilliantthe size of one's thumb. In the retirement of those farawaycountries she began to gleam forth as mysteriously as a gem-ladenidol. People now mentioned her without laughing, for they were fullof meditative respect for this fortune acquired among thebarbarians.One evening in July toward eight o'clock, Lucy, while getting out ofher carriage in the Rue du Faubourg Saint-Honore, noticed CarolineHequet, who had come out on foot to order something at a neighboringtradesman's. Lucy called her and at once burst out with:"Have you dined? Are you disengaged? Oh, then come with me, mydear. Nana's back."The other got in at once, and Lucy continued:"And you know, my dear, she may be dead while we're gossiping.""Dead! What an idea!" cried Caroline in stupefaction. "And whereis she? And what's it of?""At the Grand Hotel, of smallpox. Oh, it's a long story!"Lucy had bidden her coachman drive fast, and while the horsestrotted rapidly along the Rue Royale and the boulevards, she toldwhat had happened to Nana in jerky, breathless sentences."You can't imagine it. Nana plumps down out of Russia. I don'tknow why--some dispute with her prince. She leaves her traps at thestation; she lands at her aunt's--you remember the old thing. Well,and then she finds her baby dying of smallpox. The baby dies nextday, and she has a row with the aunt about some money she ought tohave sent, of which the other one has never seen a sou. Seems thechild died of that: in fact, it was neglected and badly cared for.Very well; Nana slopes, goes to a hotel, then meets Mignon just asshe was thinking of her traps. She has all sorts of queer feelings,shivers, wants to be sick, and Mignon takes her back to her placeand promises to look after her affairs. Isn't it odd, eh? Doesn'tit all happen pat? But this is the best part of the story: Rosefinds out about Nana's illness and gets indignant at the idea of herbeing alone in furnished apartments. So she rushes off, crying, tolook after her. You remember how they used to detest one another--like regular furies! Well then, my dear, Rose has had Nanatransported to the Grand Hotel, so that she should, at any rate, diein a smart place, and now she's already passed three nights thereand is free to die of it after. It's Labordette who told me allabout it. Accordingly I wanted to see for myself--""Yes, yes," interrupted Caroline in great excitement "We'll go up toher."They had arrived at their destination. On the boulevard thecoachman had had to rein in his horses amid a block of carriages andpeople on foot. During the day the Corps Legislatif had voted forwar, and now a crowd was streaming down all the streets, flowingalong all the pavements, invading the middle of the roadway. Beyondthe Madeleine the sun had set behind a blood-red cloud, which cast areflection as of a great fire and set the lofty windows flaming.Twilight was falling, and the hour was oppressively melancholy, fornow the avenues were darkening away into the distance but were notas yet dotted over by the bright sparks of the gas lamps. And amongthe marching crowds distant voices swelled and grew ever louder, andeyes gleamed from pale faces, while a great spreading wind ofanguish and stupor set every head whirling."Here's Mignon," said Lucy. "He'll give us news."Mignon was standing under the vast porch of the Grand Hotel. Helooked nervous and was gazing at the crowd. After Lucy's first fewquestions he grew impatient and cried out:"How should I know? These last two days I haven't been able to tearRose away from up there. It's getting stupid, when all's said, forher to be risking her life like that! She'll be charming if shegets over it, with holes in her face! It'll suit us to a tee!"The idea that Rose might lose her beauty was exasperating him. Hewas giving up Nana in the most downright fashion, and he could notin the least understand these stupid feminine devotions. ButFauchery was crossing the boulevard, and he, too, came up anxiouslyand asked for news. The two men egged each other on. Theyaddressed one another familiarly in these days."Always the same business, my sonny," declared Mignon. "You oughtto go upstairs; you would force her to follow you.""Come now, you're kind, you are!" said the journalist. "Why don'tyou go upstairs yourself?"Then as Lucy began asking for Nana's number, they besought her tomake Rose come down; otherwise they would end by getting angry.Nevertheless, Lucy and Caroline did not go up at once. They hadcaught sight of Fontan strolling about with his hands in his pocketsand greatly amused by the quaint expressions of the mob. When hebecame aware that Nana was lying ill upstairs he affected sentimentand remarked:"The poor girl! I'll go and shake her by the hand. What's thematter with her, eh?""Smallpox," replied Mignon.The actor had already taken a step or two in the direction of thecourt, but he came back and simply murmured with a shiver:"Oh, damn it!"The smallpox was no joke. Fontan had been near having it when hewas five years old, while Mignon gave them an account of one of hisnieces who had died of it. As to Fauchery, he could speak of itfrom personal experience, for he still bore marks of it in the shapeof three little lumps at the base of his nose, which he showed them.And when Mignon again egged him on to the ascent, on the pretextthat you never had it twice, he violently combated this theory andwith infinite abuse of the doctors instanced various cases. ButLucy and Caroline interrupted them, for the growing multitude filledthem with astonishment."Just look! Just look what a lot of people!" The night wasdeepening, and in the distance the gas lamps were being lit one byone. Meanwhile interested spectators became visible at windows,while under the trees the human flood grew every minute more dense,till it ran in one enormous stream from the Madeleine to theBastille. Carriages rolled slowly along. A roaring sound went upfrom this compact and as yet inarticulate mass. Each member of ithad come out, impelled by the desire to form a crowd, and was nowtrampling along, steeping himself in the pervading fever. But agreat movement caused the mob to flow asunder. Among the jostling,scattering groups a band of men in workmen's caps and white blouseshad come in sight, uttering a rhythmical cry which suggested thebeat of hammers upon an anvil."To Ber-lin! To Ber-lin! To Ber-lin!" And the crowd stared ingloomy distrust yet felt themselves already possessed and inspiredby heroic imaginings, as though a military band were passing."Oh yes, go and get your throats cut!" muttered Mignon, overcome byan access of philosophy.But Fontan thought it very fine, indeed, and spoke of enlisting.When the enemy was on the frontier all citizens ought to rise up indefense of the fatherland! And with that he assumed an attitudesuggestive of Bonaparte at Austerlitz."Look here, are you coining up with us?" Lucy asked him."Oh dear, no! To catch something horrid?" he said.On a bench in front of the Grand Hotel a man sat hiding his face ina handkerchief. On arriving Fauchery had indicated him to Mignonwith a wink of the eye. Well, he was still there; yes, he wasalways there. And the journalist detained the two women also inorder to point him out to them. When the man lifted his head theyrecognized him; an exclamation escaped them. It was the CountMuffat, and he was giving an upward glance at one of the windows."You know, he's bemight be the face. Lucyadded:"I never saw her since that time at the Gaite, when she was at theend of the grotto."At this Rose awoke from her stupor and smiled as she said:"Ah, she's changed; she's changed."Then she once more lapsed into contemplation and neither moved norspoke. Perhaps they would be able to look at her presently! Andwith that the three women joined the others in front of thefireplace. Simonne and Clarisse were discussing the dead woman'sdiamonds in low tones. Well, did they really exist--those diamonds?Nobody had seen them; it must be a bit of humbug. But Lea de Hornknew someone who knew all about them. Oh, they were monster stones!Besides, they weren't all; she had brought back lots of otherprecious property from Russia--embroidered stuffs, for instance,valuable knickknacks, a gold dinner service, nay, even en waiting there since this morning," Mignoninformed them. "I saw him at six o'clock, and he hasn't movedsince. Directly Labordette spoke about it he came there with hishandkerchief up to his face. Every half-hour he comes dragginghimself to where we're standing to ask if the person upstairs isdoing better, and then he goes back and sits down. Hang it, thatroom isn't healthy! It's all very well being fond of people, butone doesn't want to kick the bucket."The count sat with uplifted eyes and did not seem conscious of whatwas going on around him. Doubtless he was ignorant of thedeclaration of war, and he neither felt nor saw the crowd."Look, here he comes!" said Fauchery. "Now you'll see."The count had, in fact, quitted his bench and was entering the loftyporch. But the porter, who was getting to know his face at last,did not give him time to put his question. He said sharply:"She's dead, monsieur, this very minute."Nana dead! It was a blow to them all. Without a word Muffat hadgone back to the bench, his face still buried in his handkerchief.The others burst into exclamations, but they were cut short, for afresh band passed by, howling, "A BERLIN! A BERLIN! A BERLIN!"Nana dead! Hang it, and such a fine girl too! Mignon sighed andlooked relieved, for at last Rose would come down. A chill fell onthe company. Fontan, meditating a tragic role, had assumed a lookof woe and was drawing down the corners of his mouth and rolling hiseyes askance, while Fauchery chewed his cigar nervously, for despitehis cheap journalistic chaff he was really touched. Nevertheless,the two women continued to give vent to their feelings of surprise.The last time Lucy had seen her was at the Gaite; Blanche, too, hadseen her in Melusine. Oh, how stunning it was, my dear, when sheappeared in the depths of the crystal grot! The gentlemenremembered the occasion perfectly. Fontan had played the PrinceCocorico. And their memories once stirred up, they launched intointerminable particulars. How ripping she looked with that richcoloring of hers in the crystal grot! Didn't she, now? She didn'tsay a word: the authors had even deprived her of a line or two,because it was superfluous. No, never a word! It was grander thatway, and she drove her public wild by simply showing herself. Youwouldn't find another body like hers! Such shoulders as she had,and such legs and such a figure! Strange that she should be dead!You know, above her tights she had nothing on but a golden girdlewhich hardly concealed her behind and in front. All round her thegrotto, which was entirely of glass, shone like day. Cascades ofdiamonds were flowing down; strings of brilliant pearls glistenedamong the stalactites in the vault overhead, and amid thetransparent atmosphere and flowing fountain water, which was crossedby a wide ray of electric light, she gleamed like the sun with thatflamelike skin and hair of hers. f Paris would always picture herthus--would see her shining high up among crystal glass like thegood God Himself. No, it was too stupid to let herself die undersuch conditions! She must be looking pretty by this time in thatroom up there!"And what a lot of pleasures bloody well wasted!" said Mignon inmelancholy tones, as became a man who did not like to see good anduseful things lost.He sounded Lucy and Caroline in order to find out if they were goingup after all. Of course they were going up; their curiosity hadincreased. Just then Blanche arrived, out of breath and muchexasperated at the way the crowds were blocking the pavement, andwhen she heard the news there was a fresh outburst of exclamations,and with a great rustling of skirts the ladies moved toward thestaircase. Mignon followed them, crying out:"Tell Rose that I'm waiting for her. She'll come at once, eh?""They do not exactly know whether the contagion is to be feared atthe beginning or near the end," Fontan was explaining to Fauchery."A medical I know was assuring me that the hours immediatelyfollowing death are particularly dangerous. There are miasmaticexhalations then. Ah, but I do regret this sudden ending; I shouldhave been so glad to shake hands with her for the last time."What good would it do you now?" said the journalist."Yes, what good?" the two others repeated.The crowd was still on the increase. In the bright light thrownfrom shop-windows and beneath the wavering glare of the gas twoliving streams were distinguishable as they flowed along thepavement, innumerable hats apparently drifting on their surface. Atthat hour the popular fever was gaining ground rapidly, and peoplewere flinging themselves in the wake of the bands of men in blouses.A constant forward movement seemed to sweep the roadway, and the crykept recurring; obstinately, abruptly, there rang from thousands ofthroats:"A BERLIN! A BERLIN! A BERLIN!"The room on the fourth floor upstairs cost twelve francs a day,since Rose had wanted something decent and yet not luxurious, forsumptuousness is not necessary when one is suffering. Hung withLouis XIII cretonne, which was adorned with a pattern of largeflowers, the room was furnished with the mahogany commonly found inhotels. On the floor there was a red carpet variegated with blackfoliage. Heavy silence reigned save for an occasional whisperingsound caused by voices in the corridor."I assure you we're lost. The waiter told us to turn to the right.What a barrack of a house!""Wait a bit; we must have a look. Room number 401; room number401!""Oh, it's this way: 405, 403. We ought to be there. Ah, at last,401! This way! Hush now, hush!"The voices were silent. Then there was a slight coughing and amoment or so of mental preparation. Then the door opened slowly,and Lucy entered, followed by Caroline and Blanche. But theystopped directly; there were already five women in the room; Gagawas lying back in the solitary armchair, which was a red velvetVoltaire. In front of the fireplace Simonne and Clarisse were nowstanding talking to Lea de Horn, who was seated, while by the bed,to the left of the door, Rose Mignon, perched on the edge of achest, sat gazing fixedly at the body where it lay hidden in theshadow of the curtains. All the others had their hats and gloves onand looked as if they were paying a call: she alone sat there withbare hands and untidy hair and cheeks rendered pale by three nightsof watching. She felt stupid in the face of this sudden death, andher eyes were swollen with weeping. A shaded lamp standing on thecorner of the chest of drawers threw a bright flood of light overGaga."What a sad misfortune, is it not?" whispered Lucy as she shookhands with Rose. "We wanted to bid her good-by."And she turned round and tried to catch sight of her, but the lampwas too far off, and she did not dare bring it nearer. On the bedlay stretched a gray mass, but only the ruddy chignon wasdistinguishable and a pale blotch which urniture."Yes, my dear, fifty-two boxes, enormous cases some of them, threetruckloads of them!" They were all lying at the station. "Wasn'tit hard lines, eh?--to die without even having time to unpack one'straps?" Then she had a lot of tin, besides--something like amillion! Lucy asked who was going to inherit it all. Oh, distantrelations--the aunt, without doubt! It would be a pretty surprisefor that old body. She knew nothing about it yet, for the sickwoman had obstinately refused to let them warn her, for she stillowed her a grudge over her little boy's death. Thereupon they wereall moved to pity about the little boy, and they remembered seeinghim at the races. Oh, it was a wretchedly sickly baby; it looked soold and so sad. In fact, it was one of those poor brats who neverasked to be born!"He's happier under the ground," said Blanche."Bah, and so's she!" added Caroline. "Life isn't so funny!"In that gloomy room melancholy ideas began to take possession oftheir imaginations. They felt frightened. It was silly to standtalking so long, but a longing to see her kept them rooted to thespot. It was very hot--the lamp glass threw a round, moonlike patchof light upon the ceiling, but the rest of the room was drowned insteamy darkness. Under the bed a deep plate full of phenol exhaledan insipid smell. And every few moments tiny gusts of wind swelledthe window curtains. The window opened on the boulevard, whencerose a dull roaring sound."Did she suffer much?" asked Lucy, who was absorbed in contemplationof the clock, the design of which represented the three Graces asnude young women, smiling like opera dancers.Gaga seemed to wake up."My word, yes! I was present when she died. I promise you it wasnot at all pleasant to see. Why, she was taken with a shudderingfit--"But she was unable to proceed with her explanation, for a cry aroseoutside:"A BERLIN! A BERLIN! A BERLIN!"And Lucy, who felt suffocated, flung wide the window and leaned uponthe sill. It was pleasant there; the air came fresh from the starrysky. Opposite her the windows were all aglow with light, and thegas sent dancing reflections over the gilt lettering of the shopsigns.Beneath these, again, a most amusing scene presented itself. Thestreams of people were discernible rolling torrentwise along thesidewalks and in the roadway, where there was a confused processionof carriages. Everywhere there were vast moving shadows in whichlanterns and lampposts gleamed like sparks. But the band which nowcame roaring by carried torches, and a red glow streamed down fromthe direction of the Madeleine, crossed the mob like a trail of fireand spread out over the heads in the distance like a vividreflection of a burning house. Lucy called Blanche and Caroline,forgetting where she was and shouting:"Do come! You get a capital view from this window!"They all three leaned out, greatly interested. The trees got intheir way, and occasionally the torches disappeared under thefoliage. They tried to catch a glimpse of the men of their ownparty below, but a protruding balcony hid the door, and they couldonly make out Count Muffat, who looked like a dark parcel throwndown on the bench where he sat. He was still burying his face inhis handkerchief. A carriage had stopped in front, and yet anotherwoman hurried up, in whom Lucy recognized Maria Blond. She was notalone; a stout man got down after her."It's that thief of a Steiner," said Caroline. "How is it theyhaven't sent him back to Cologne yet? I want to see how he lookswhen he comes in."They turned round, but when after the lapse of ten minutes MariaBlond appeared, she was alone. She had twice mistaken thestaircase. And when Lucy, in some astonishment, questioned her:"What, he?" she said. "My dear, don't you go fancying that he'llcome upstairs! It's a great wonder he's escorted me as far as thedoor. There are nearly a dozen of them smoking cigars."As a matter of fact, all the gentlemen were meeting downstairs.They had come strolling thither in order to have a look at theboulevards, and they hailed one another and commented loudly on thatpoor girl's death. Then they began discussing politics andstrategy. Bordenave, Daguenet, Labordette, Prulliere and others,besides, had swollen the group, and now they were all listening toFontan, who was explaining his plan for taking Berlin within a week.Meanwhile Maria Blond was touched as she stood by the bedside andmurmured, as the others had done before her:"Poor pet! The last time I saw her was in the grotto at the Gaite.""Ah, she's changed; she's changed!" Rose Mignon repeated with asmile of gloomiest dejection.Two more women arrived. These were Tatan Nene and Louise Violaine.They had been wandering about the Grand Hotel for twenty minutespast, bandied from waiter to waiter, and had ascended and descendedmore than thirty flights of stairs amid a perfect stampede oftravelers who were hurrying to leave Paris amid the panic caused bythe war and the excitement on the boulevards. Accordingly they justdropped down on chairs when they came in, for they were too tired tothink about the dead. At that moment a loud noise came from theroom next door, where people were pushing trunks about and strikingagainst furniture to an accompaniment of strident, outlandishsyllables. It was a young Austrian couple, and Gaga told how duringher agony the neighbors had played a game of catch as catch can andhow, as only an unused door divided the two rooms, they had heardthem laughing and kissing when one or the other was caught."Come, it's time we were off," said Clarisse. "We shan't bring herto life again. Are you coming, Simonne?"They all looked at the bed out of the corners of their eyes, butthey did not budge an inch. Nevertheless, they began getting readyand gave their skirts various little pats. Lucy was again leaningout of window. She was alone now, and a sorrowful feeling beganlittle by little to overpower her, as though an intense wave ofmelancholy had mounted up from the howling mob. Torches still keptpassing, shaking out clouds of sparks, and far away in the distancethe various bands stretched into the shadows, surging unquietly toand fro like flocks being driven to the slaughterhouse at night. Adizzy feeling emanated from these confused masses as the human floodrolled them along--a dizzy feeling, a sense of terror and all thepity of the massacres to come. The people were going wild; theirvoices broke; they were drunk with a fever of excitement which sentthem rushing toward the unknown "out there" beyond the dark wall ofthe horizon."A BERLIN! A BERLIN! A BERLIN!"Lucy turned round. She leaned her back against the window, and herface was very pale."Good God! What's to become of us?"The ladies shook their heads. They were serious and very anxiousabout the turn events were taking."For my part," said Caroline Hequet in her decisive way, "I startfor London the day after tomorrow. Mamma's already over theregetting a house ready for me. I'm certainly not going to let myselfbe massacred in Paris."Her mother, as became a prudent woman, had invested all herdaughters' money in foreign lands. One never knows how a war mayend! But Maria Blond grew vexed at this. She was a patriot andspoke of following the army."There's a coward for you! Yes, if they wanted me I should put onman's clothes just to have a good shot at those pigs of Prussians!And if we all die after? What of that? Our wretched skins aren'tso valuable!"Blanche de Sivry was exasperated."Please don't speak ill of the Prussians! They are just like othermen, and they're not always running after the women, like yourFrenchmen. They've just expelled the little Prussian who was withme. He was an awfully rich fellow and so gentle: he couldn't havehurt a soul. It's disgraceful; I'm ruined by it. And, you know,you mustn't say a word or I go and find him out in Germany!"After that, while the two were at loggerheads, Gaga began murmuringin dolorous tones:"It's all over with me; my luck's always bad. It's only a week agothat I finished paying for my little house at Juvisy. Ah, God knowswhat trouble it cost me! I had to go to Lili for help! And nowhere's the war declared, and the Prussians'll come and they'll burneverything. How am I to begin again at my time of life, I shouldlike to know?""Bah!" said Clarisse. "I don't care a damn about it. I shallalways find what I want.""Certainly you will," added Simonne. "It'll be a joke. Perhaps,after all, it'll be good biz."And her smile hinted what she thought. Tatan Nene and LouiseViolaine were of her opinion. The former told them that she hadenjoyed the most roaring jolly good times with soldiers. Oh, theywere good fellows and would have done any mortal thing for thegirls. But as the ladies had raised their voices unduly RoseMignon, still sitting on the chest by the bed, silenced them with asoftly whispered "Hush!" They stood quite still at this and glancedobliquely toward the dead woman, as though this request for silencehad emanated from the very shadows of the curtains. In the heavy,peaceful stillness which ensued, a void, deathly stillness whichmade them conscious of the stiff dead body lying stretched close bythem, the cries of the mob burst forth:"A BERLIN! A BERLIN! A BERLIN!"But soon they forgot. Lea de Horn, who had a political salon whereformer ministers of Louis Philippe were wont to indulge in delicateepigrams, shrugged her shoulders and continued the conversation in alow tone:"What a mistake this war is! What a bloodthirsty piece ofstupidity!"At this Lucy forthwith took up the cudgels for the empire. She hadbeen the mistress of a prince of the imperial house, and its defensebecame a point of family honor with her."Do leave them alone, my dear. We couldn't let ourselves be furtherinsulted! Why, this war concerns the honor of France. Oh, you knowI don't say that because of the prince. He was just mean! Justimagine, at night when he was going to bed he hid his gold in hisboots, and when we played at bezique he used beans, because one dayI pounced down on the stakes for fun. But that doesn't prevent mybeing fair. The emperor was right."Lea shook her head with an air of superiority, as became a woman whowas repeating the opinions of important personages. Then raisingher voice:"This is the end of all things. They're out of their minds at theTuileries. France ought to have driven them out yesterday. Don'tyou see?"They all violently interrupted her. What was up with her? Was shemad about the emperor? Were people not happy? Was business doingbadly? Paris would never enjoy itself so thoroughly again.Gaga was beside herself; she woke up and was very indignant."Be quiet! It's idiotic! You don't know what you're saying. I--I've seen Louis Philippe's reign: it was full of beggars and misers,my dear. And then came '48! Oh, it was a pretty disgustingbusiness was their republic! After February I was simply dying ofstarvation--yes, I, Gaga. Oh, if only you'd been through it all youwould go down on your knees before the emperor, for he's been afather to us; yes, a father to us."She had to be soothed but continued with pious fervor:"O my God, do Thy best to give the emperor the victory. Preservethe empire to us!"They all repeated this aspiration, and Blanche confessed that sheburned candles for the emperor. Caroline had been smitten by himand for two whole months had walked where he was likely to pass buthad failed to attract his attention. And with that the others burstforth into furious denunciations of the Republicans and talked ofexterminating them on the frontiers so that Napoleon III, afterhaving beaten the enemy, might reign peacefully amid universalenjoyment."That dirty Bismarck--there's another cad for you!" Maria Blondremarked."To think that I should have known him!" cried Simonne. "If only Icould have foreseen, I'm the one that would have put some poison inhis glass."But Blanche, on whose heart the expulsion of her Prussian stillweighed, ventured to defend Bismarck. Perhaps he wasn't such a badsort. To every man his trade!"You know," she added, "he adores women.""What the hell has that got to do with us?" said Clarisse. "Wedon't want to cuddle him, eh?""There's always too many men of that sort!" declared Louise Violainegravely. "It's better to do without 'em than to mix oneself up withsuch monsters!"And the discussion continued, and they stripped Bismarck, and, inher Bonapartist zeal, each of them gave him a sounding kick, whileTatan Nene kept saying:"Bismarck! Why, they've simply driven me crazy with the chap! Oh,I hate him! I didn't know that there Bismarck! One can't knoweverybody.""Never mind," said Lea de Horn by way of conclusion, "that Bismarckwill give us a jolly good threshing."But she could not continue. The ladies were all down on her atonce. Eh, what? A threshing? It was Bismarck they were going toescort home with blows from the butt ends of their muskets. Whatwas this bad Frenchwoman going to say next?"Hush," whispered Rose, for so much noise hurt her.The cold influence of the corpse once more overcame them, and theyall paused together. They were embarrassed; the dead woman wasbefore them again; a dull thread of coming ill possessed them. Onthe boulevard the cry was passing, hoarse and wild:"A BERLIN! A BERLIN! A BERLIN!"Presently, when they were making up their minds to go, a voice washeard calling from the passage:"Rose! Rose!"Gaga opened the door in astonishment and disappeared for a moment.When she returned:"My dear," she said, "it's Fauchery. He's out there at the end ofthe corridor. He won't come any further, and he's beside himselfbecause you still stay near that body."Mignon had at last succeeded in urging the journalist upstairs.Lucy, who was still at the window, leaned out and caught sight ofthe gentlemen out on the pavement. They were looking up, makingenergetic signals to her. Mignon was shaking his fists inexasperation, and Steiner, Fontan, Bordenave and the rest werestretching out their arms with looks of anxious reproach, whileDaguenet simply stood smoking a cigar with his hands behind hisback, so as not to compromise himself."It's true, dear," said Lucy, leaving the window open; "I promisedto make you come down. They're all calling us now."Rose slowly and painfully left the chest."I'm coming down; I'm coming down," she whispered. "It's verycertain she no longer needs me. They're going to send in a Sisterof Mercy."And she turned round, searching for her hat and shawl. Mechanicallyshe filled a basin of water on the toilet table and while washingher hands and face continued:"I don't know! It's been a great blow to me. We used scarcely tobe nice to one another. Ah well! You see I'm quite silly over itnow. Oh! I've got all sorts of strange ideas--I want to die myself--I feel the end of the world's coming. Yes, I need air."The corpse was beginning to poison the atmosphere of the room. Andafter long heedlessness there ensued a panic."Let's be off; let's be off, my little pets!" Gaga kept saying. "Itisn't wholesome here."They went briskly out, casting a last glance at the bed as theypassed it. But while Lucy, Blanche and Caroline still remainedbehind, Rose gave a final look round, for she wanted to leave theroom in order. She drew a curtain across the window, and then itoccurred to her that the lamp was not the proper thing and that ataper should take its place. So she lit one of the coppercandelabra on the chimney piece and placed it on the night tablebeside the corpse. A brilliant light suddenly illumined the deadwoman's face. The women were horror-struck. They shuddered andescaped."Ah, she's changed; she's changed!" murmured Rose Mignon, who wasthe last to remain.She went away; she shut the door. Nana was left alone with upturnedface in the light cast by the candle. She was fruit of the charnelhouse, a heap of matter and blood, a shovelful of corrupted fleshthrown down on the pillow. The pustules had invaded the whole ofthe face, so that each touched its neighbor. Fading and sunken,they had assumed the grayish hue of mud; and on that formless pulp,where the features had ceased to be traceable, they alreadyresembled some decaying damp from the grave. One eye, the left eye,had completely foundered among bubbling purulence, and the other,which remained half open, looked like a deep, black, ruinous hole.The nose was still suppurating. Quite a reddish crush was peelingfrom one of the cheeks and invading the mouth, which it distortedinto a horrible grin. And over this loathsome and grotesque mask ofdeath the hair, the beautiful hair, still blazed like sunlight andflowed downward in rippling gold. Venus was rotting. It seemed asthough the poison she had assimilated in the gutters and on thecarrion tolerated by the roadside, the leaven with which she hadpoisoned a whole people, had but now remounted to her face andturned it to corruption.The room was empty. A great despairing breath came up from theboulevard and swelled the curtain."A BERLIN! A BERLIN! A BERLIN!"