The Gamekeeper

by Guy de Maupassant

　　It was after dinner, and we were talking about adventures and accidentswhich happened while out shooting.An old friend, known to all of us, M. Boniface, a great sportsman and aconnoisseur of wine, a man of wonderful physique, witty and gay, andendowed with an ironical and resigned philosophy, which manifested itselfin caustic humor, and never in melancholy, suddenly exclaimed:"I know a story, or rather a tragedy, which is somewhat peculiar. It isnot at all like those which one hears of usually, and I have never toldit, thinking that it would interest no one."It is not at all sympathetic. I mean by that, that it does not arousethe kind of interest which pleases or which moves one agreeably."Here is the story:"I was then about thirty-five years of age, and a most enthusiasticsportsman."In those days I owned a lonely bit of property in the neighborhood ofJumieges, surrounded by forests and abounding in hares and rabbits.I was accustomed to spending four or five days alone there each year,there not being room enough to allow of my bringing a friend with me."I had placed there as gamekeeper, an old retired gendarme, a good man,hot-tempered, a severe disciplinarian, a terror to poachers and fearingnothing. He lived all alone, far from the village, in a little house, orrather hut, consisting of two rooms downstairs, with kitchen and store-room, and two upstairs. One of them, a kind of box just large enough toaccommodate a bed, a cupboard and a chair, was reserved for my use."Old man Cavalier lived in the other one. When I said that he was alonein this place, I was wrong. He had taken his nephew with him, a youngscamp about fourteen years old, who used to go to the village and runerrands for the old man."This young scapegrace was long and lanky, with yellow hair, so lightthat it resembled the fluff of a plucked chicken, so thin that he seemedbald. Besides this, he had enormous feet and the hands of a giant."He was cross-eyed, and never looked at anyone. He struck me as being inthe same relation to the human race as ill-smelling beasts are to theanimal race. He reminded me of a polecat."He slept in a kind of hole at the top of the stairs which led to the tworooms."But during my short sojourns at the Pavilion--so I called the hut--Marius would give up his nook to an old woman from Ecorcheville, calledCeleste, who used to come and cook for me, as old man Cavalier's stewswere not sufficient for my healthy appetite."You now know the characters and the locality. Here is the story:"It was on the fifteenth of October, 1854--I shall remember that date aslong as I live."I left Rouen on horseback, followed by my dog Bock, a big Dalmatianhound from Poitou, full-chested and with a heavy jaw, which couldretrieve among the bushes like a Pont-Andemer spaniel."I was carrying my satchel slung across my back and my gun diagonallyacross my chest. It was a cold, windy, gloomy day, with clouds scurryingacross the sky."As I went up the hill at Canteleu, I looked over the broad valley of theSeine, the river winding in and out along its course as far as the eyecould see. To the right the towers of Rouen stood out against the sky,and to the left the landscape was bounded by the distant slopes coveredwith trees. Then I crossed the forest of Roumare and, toward fiveo'clock, reached the Pavilion, where Cavalier and Celeste were expectingme."For ten years I had appeared there at the same time, in the same manner;and for ten years the same faces had greeted me with the same words:"'Welcome, master! We hope your health is good.'"Cavalier had hardly changed. He withstood time like an old tree; butCeleste, especially in the past four years, had become unrecognizable."She was bent almost double, and, although still active, when she walkedher body was almost at right angles to her legs."The old woman, who was very devoted to me, always seemed affected atseeing me again, and each time, as I left, she would say:"'This may be the last time, master.'"The sad, timid farewell of this old servant, this hopeless resignationto the inevitable fate which was not far off for her, moved me strangelyeach year."I dismounted, and while Cavalier, whom I had greeted, was leading myhorse to the little shed which served as a stable, I entered the kitchen,which also served as dining-room, followed by Celeste."Here the gamekeeper joined us. I saw at first glance that something wasthe matter. He seemed preoccupied, ill at ease, worried."I said to him:"'Well, Cavalier, is everything all right?'"He muttered:"'Yes and no. There are things I don't like.'"I asked:"'What? Tell me about it.'"But he shook his head."'No, not yet, monsieur. I do not wish to bother you with my littletroubles so soon after your arrival.'"I insisted, but he absolutely refused to give me any information beforedinner. From his expression, I could tell that it was something veryserious."Not knowing what to say to him, I asked:"'How about game? Much of it this year?'"'Oh, yes! You'll find all you want. Thank heaven, I looked out forthat.'"He said this with so much seriousness, with such sad solemnity, that itwas really almost funny. His big gray mustache seemed almost ready todrop from his lips."Suddenly I remembered that I had not yet seen his nephew."'Where is Marius? Why does he not show himself?'"The gamekeeper started, looking me suddenly in the face:"Well, monsieur, I had rather tell you the whole business right away;it's on account of him that I am worrying.'"'Ah! Well, where is he?'"'Over in the stable, monsieur. I was waiting for the right time tobring him out.'"'What has he done?'"'Well, monsieur----'"The gamekeeper, however, hesitated, his voice altered and shaky, hisface suddenly furrowed by the deep lines of an old man."He continued slowly:"'Well, I found out, last winter, that someone was poaching in the woodsof Roseraies, but I couldn't seem to catch the man. I spent night afternight on the lookout for him. In vain. During that time they beganpoaching over by Ecorcheville. I was growing thin from vexation. But asfor catching the trespasser, impossible! One might have thought that therascal was forewarned of my plans."'But one day, while I was brushing Marius' Sunday trousers, I foundforty cents in his pocket. Where did he get it?"'I thought the matter over for about a week, and I noticed that he usedto go out; he would leave the house just as I was coming home to go tobed--yes, monsieur."'Then I started to watch him, without the slightest suspicion of thereal facts. One morning, just after I had gone to bed before him, I gotright up again, and followed him. For shadowing a man, there is nobodylike me, monsieur."'And I caught him, Marius, poaching on your land, monsieur; he mynephew, I your keeper!"'The blood rushed to my head, and I almost killed him on the spot, I hithim so hard. Oh! yes, I thrashed him all right. And I promised himthat he would get another beating from my hand, in your presence, as anexample."'There! I have grown thin from sorrow. You know how it is when one isworried like that. But tell me, what would you have done? The boy hasno father or mother, and I am the last one of his blood; I kept him, Icouldn't drive him out, could I?"'I told him that if it happened again I would have no more pity for him,all would be over. There! Did I do right, monsieur?'"I answered, holding out my hand:"'You did well, Cavalier; you are an honest man.'"He rose."'Thank you, monsieur. Now I am going to fetch him. I must give him histhrashing, as an example.'"I knew that it was hopeless to try and turn the old man from his idea.I therefore let him have his own way."He got the rascal and brought him back by the ear."I was seated on a cane chair, with the solemn expression of a judge."Marius seemed to have grown; he was homelier even than the year before,with his evil, sneaking expression."His big hands seemed gigantic."His uncle pushed him up to me, and, in his soldierly voice, said:"'Beg the gentleman's pardon.'"The boy didn't say a word."Then putting one arm round him, the former gendarme lifted him right offthe ground, and began to whack him with such force that I rose to stopthe blows."The boy was now howling: 'Mercy! mercy! mercy! I promise----'"Cavalier put him back on the ground and forced him to his knees:"'Beg for pardon,' he said."With eyes lowered, the scamp murmured:"'I ask for pardon!'"Then his uncle lifted him to his feet, and dismissed him with a cuffwhich almost knocked him down again."He made his escape, and I did not see him again that evening."Cavalier appeared overwhelmed.'"'He is a bad egg,' he said."And throughout the whole dinner, he kept repeating:"'Oh! that worries me, monsieur, that worries me.'"I tried to comfort him, but in vain."I went to bed early, so that I might start out at daybreak."My dog was already asleep on the floor, at the foot of my bed, when Iput out the light."I was awakened toward midnight by the furious barking of my dog Bock. Iimmediately noticed that my room was full of smoke. I jumped out of bed,struck a light, ran to the door and opened it. A cloud of flames burstin. The house was on fire."I quickly closed the heavy oak door and, drawing on my trousers, I firstlowered the dog through the window, by means of a rope made of my sheets;then, having thrown out the rest of my clothes, my game-bag and my gun, Iin turn escaped the same way."I began to shout with all my might: 'Cavalier! Cavalier! Cavalier!'"But the gamekeeper did not wake up. He slept soundly like an oldgendarme."However, I could see through the lower windows that the whole ground-floor was nothing but a roaring furnace; I also noticed that it had beenfilled with straw to make it burn readily."Somebody must purposely have set fire to the place!"I continued shrieking wildly: 'Cavalier!'"Then the thought struck me that the smoke might be suffocating him. Anidea came to me. I slipped two cartridges into my gun, and shot straightat his window."The six panes of glass shattered into the room in a cloud of glass.This time the old man had heard me, and he appeared, dazed, in hisnightshirt, bewildered by the glare which illumined the whole front ofhis 'house."I cried to him:"'Your house is on fire! Escape through the window! Quick! Quick!'"The flames were coming out through all the cracks downstairs, werelicking along the wall, were creeping toward him and going to surroundhim. He jumped and landed on his feet, like a cat."It was none too soon. The thatched roof cracked in the middle, rightover the staircase, which formed a kind of flue for the fire downstairs;and an immense red jet jumped up into the air, spreading like a stream ofwater and sprinkling a shower of sparks around the hut. In a few secondsit was nothing but a pool of flames."Cavalier, thunderstruck, asked:"'How did the fire start?'"I answered:"'Somebody lit it in the kitchen.'"He muttered:"'Who could have started the fire?'"And I, suddenly guessing, answered:"'Marius!'"The old man understood. He stammered:"'Good God! That is why he didn't return.'"A terrible thought flashed through my mind. I cried:"'And Celeste! Celeste!'"He did not answer. The house caved in before us, forming only anenormous, bright, blinding brazier, an awe-inspiring funeral-pile, wherethe poor woman could no longer be anything but a glowing ember, a glowingember of human flesh."We had not heard a single cry."As the fire crept toward the shed, I suddenly bethought me of my horse,and Cavalier ran to free it."Hardly had he opened the door of the stable, when a supple, nimble bodydarted between his legs, and threw him on his face. It was Marius,running for all he was worth."The man was up in a second. He tried to run after the wretch, but,seeing that he could not catch him, and maddened by an irresistibleanger, yielding to one of those thoughtless impulses which we cannotforesee or prevent, he picked up my gun, which was lying on the ground.near him, put it to his shoulder, and, before I could make a motion, hepulled the trigger without even noticing whether or not the weapon wasloaded."One of the cartridges which I had put in to announce the fire was stillintact, and the charge caught the fugitive right in the back,--throwinghim forward on the ground, bleeding profusely. He immediately began toclaw the earth with his hands and with his knees, as though trying to runon all fours like a rabbit who has been mortally wounded, and sees thehunter approaching."I rushed forward to the boy, but I could already hear the death-rattle.He passed away before the fire was extinguished, without having said aword."Cavalier, still in his shirt, his legs bare, was standing near us,motionless, dazed."When the people from the village arrived, my gamekeeper was taken away,like an insane man."I appeared at the trial as witness, and related the facts in detail,without changing a thing. Cavalier was acquitted. He disappeared thatvery day, leaving the country."I have never seen him since."There, gentlemen, that is my story."