The Test

by Guy de Maupassant

The Bondels were a happy family, and although they frequently quarrelledabout trifles, they soon became friends again.Bondel was a merchant who had retired from active business after savingenough to allow him to live quietly; he had rented a little house atSaint-Germain and lived there with his wife. He was a quiet man withvery decided opinions; he had a certain degree of education and readserious newspapers; nevertheless, he appreciated the gaulois wit.Endowed with a logical mind, and that practical common sense which is themaster quality of the industrial French bourgeois, he thought little, butclearly, and reached a decision only after careful consideration of thematter in hand. He was of medium size, with a distinguished look, andwas beginning to turn gray.His wife, who was full of serious qualities, had also several faults.She had a quick temper and a frankness that bordered upon violence. Shebore a grudge a long time. She had once been pretty, but had now becometoo stout and too red; but in her neighborhood at Saint-Germain she stillpassed for a very beautiful woman, who exemplified health and anuncertain temper.Their dissensions almost always began at breakfast, over some trivialmatter, and they often continued all day and even until the followingday. Their simple, common, limited life imparted seriousness to the mostunimportant matters, and every topic of conversation became a subject ofdispute. This had not been so in the days when business occupied theirminds, drew their hearts together, and gave them common interests andoccupation.But at Saint-Germain they saw fewer people. It had been necessary tomake new acquaintances, to create for themselves a new world amongstrangers, a new existence devoid of occupations. Then the monotony ofloneliness had soured each of them a little; and the quiet happinesswhich they had hoped and waited for with the coming of riches did notappear.One June morning, just as they were sitting down to breakfast, Bondelasked:"Do you know the people who live in the little red cottage at the end ofthe Rue du Berceau?"Madame Bondel was out of sorts. She answered:"Yes and no; I am acquainted with them, but I do not care to know them.""Why not? They seem to be very nice.""Because--""This morning I met the husband on the terrace and we took a little walktogether."Seeing that there was danger in the air, Bendel added: "It was he whospoke to me first."His wife looked at him in a displeased manner. She continued: "You wouldhave done just as well to avoid him.""Why?""Because there are rumors about them.""What kind?""Oh! rumors such as one often hears!"M. Bondel was, unfortunately, a little hasty. He exclaimed:"My dear, you know that I abhor gossip. As for those people, I find themvery pleasant."She asked testily: "The wife also?""Why, yes; although I have barely seen her."The discussion gradually grew more heated, always on the same subject forlack of others. Madame Bondel obstinately refused to say what she hadheard about these neighbors, allowing things to be understood withoutsaying exactly what they were. Bendel would shrug his shoulders, grin,and exasperate his wife. She finally cried out: "Well! that gentleman isdeceived by his wife, there!"The husband answered quietly: "I can't see how that affects the honor ofa man."She seemed dumfounded: "What! you don't see? --you don't see? --well,that's too much! You don't see! --why, it's a public scandal! he isdisgraced!"He answered: "Ah! by no means! Should a man be considered disgracedbecause he is deceived, because he is betrayed, robbed? No, indeed!I'll grant you that that may be the case for the wife, but as for him--"She became furious, exclaiming: "For him as well as for her. They areboth in disgrace; it's a public shame."Bondel, very calm, asked: "First of all, is it true? Who can assert sucha thing as long as no one has been caught in the act?"Madame Bondel was growing uneasy; she snapped: "What? Who can assert it?Why, everybody! everybody! it's as clear as the nose on your face.Everybody knows it and is talking about it. There is not the slightestdoubt."He was grinning: "For a long time people thought that the sun revolvedaround the earth. This man loves his wife and speaks of her tenderly andreverently. This whole business is nothing but lies!"Stamping her foot, she stammered: "Do you think that that fool, thatidiot, knows anything about it?"Bondel did not grow angry; he was reasoning clearly: "Excuse me. Thisgentleman is no fool. He seemed to me, on the contrary, to be veryintelligent and shrewd; and you can't make me believe that a man withbrains doesn't notice such a thing in his own house, when the neighbors,who are not there, are ignorant of no detail of this liaison--for I'llwarrant that they know everything."Madame Bondel had a fit of angry mirth, which irritated her husband'snerves. She laughed: "Ha! ha! ha! they're all the same! There's not aman alive who could discover a thing like that unless his nose was stuckinto it!"The discussion was wandering to other topics now. She was exclaimingover the blindness of deceived husbands, a thing which he doubted andwhich she affirmed with such airs of personal contempt that he finallygrew angry. Then the discussion became an angry quarrel, where she tookthe side of the women and he defended the men. He had the conceit todeclare: "Well, I swear that if I had ever been deceived, I should havenoticed it, and immediately, too. And I should have taken away yourdesire for such things in such a manner that it would have taken morethan one doctor to set you on foot again!"Boiling with anger, she cried out to him: "You! you! why, you're as big afool as the others, do you hear!"He still maintained: "I can swear to you that I am not!"She laughed so impertinently that he felt his heart beat and a chill rundown his back. For the third time he said:"I should have seen it!"She rose, still laughing in the same manner. She slammed the door andleft the room, saying: "Well! if that isn't too much!"Bondel remained alone, ill at ease. That insolent, provoking laugh hadtouched him to the quick. He went outside, walked, dreamed. Therealization of the loneliness of his new life made him sad and morbid.The neighbor, whom he had met that morning, came to him with outstretchedhands. They continued their walk together. After touching on varioussubjects they came to talk of their wives. Both seemed to have somethingto confide, something inexpressible, vague, about these beings associatedwith their lives; their wives. The neighbor was saying:"Really, at times, one might think that they bear some particular ill-will toward their husband, just because he is a husband. I love my wife--I love her very much; I appreciate and respect her; well! there aretimes when she seems to have more confidence and faith in our friendsthan in me."Bondel immediately thought: "There is no doubt; my wife was right!"When he left this man he began to think things over again. He felt inhis soul a strange confusion of contradictory ideas, a sort of interiorburning; that mocking, impertinent laugh kept ringing in his ears andseemed to say: "Why; you are just the same as the others, you fool!" Thatwas indeed bravado, one of those pieces of impudence of which a womanmakes use when she dares everything, risks everything, to wound andhumiliate the man who has aroused her ire. This poor man must also beone of those deceived husbands, like so many others. He had said sadly:"There are times when she seems to have more confidence and faith in ourfriends than in me." That is how a husband formulated his observationson the particular attentions of his wife for another man. That was all.He had seen nothing more. He was like the rest--all the rest!And how strangely Bondel's own wife had laughed as she said: "You, too--you, too." How wild and imprudent these creatures are who can arousesuch suspicions in the heart for the sole purpose of revenge!He ran over their whole life since their marriage, reviewed his mentallist of their acquaintances, to see whether she had ever appeared to showmore confidence in any one else than in himself. He never had suspectedany one, he was so calm, so sure of her, so confident.But, now he thought of it, she had had a friend, an intimate friend, whofor almost a year had dined with them three times a week. Tancret, goodold Tancret, whom he, Bendel, loved as a brother and whom he continued tosee on the sly, since his wife, he did not know why, had grown angry atthe charming fellow.He stopped to think, looking over the past with anxious eyes. Then hegrew angry at himself for harboring this shameful insinuation of thedefiant, jealous, bad ego which lives in all of us. He blamed andaccused himself when he remembered the visits and the demeanor of thisfriend whom his wife had dismissed for no apparent reason. But,suddenly, other memories returned to him, similar ruptures due to thevindictive character of Madame Bondel, who never pardoned a slight. Thenhe laughed frankly at himself for the doubts which he had nursed; and heremembered the angry looks of his wife as he would tell her, when hereturned at night: "I saw good old Tancret, and he wished to beremembered to you," and he reassured himself.She would invariably answer: "When you see that gentleman you can tellhim that I can very well dispense with his remembrances." With what anirritated, angry look she would say these words! How well one could feelthat she did not and would not forgive--and he had suspected her even fora second? Such foolishness!But why did she grow so angry? She never had given the exact reason forthis quarrel. She still bore him that grudge! Was it? --But no--no--andBondel declared that he was lowering himself by even thinking of suchthings.Yes, he was undoubtedly lowering himself, but he could not help thinkingof it, and he asked himself with terror if this thought which had enteredinto his mind had not come to stop, if he did not carry in his heart theseed of fearful torment. He knew himself; he was a man to think over hisdoubts, as formerly he would ruminate over his commercial operations, fordays and nights, endlessly weighing the pros and the cons.He was already becoming excited; he was walking fast and losing hiscalmness. A thought cannot be downed. It is intangible, cannot becaught, cannot be killed.Suddenly a plan occurred to him; it was bold, so bold that at first hedoubted whether he would carry it out.Each time that he met Tancret, his friend would ask for news of MadameBondel, and Bondel would answer: "She is still a little angry." Nothingmore. Good Lord! What a fool he had been! Perhaps!Well, he would take the train to Paris, go to Tancret, and bring him backwith him that very evening, assuring him that his wife's mysterious angerhad disappeared. But how would Madame Bondel act? What a scene therewould be! What anger! what scandal! What of it?--that would berevenge! When she should come face to face with him, unexpectedly, hecertainly ought to be able to read the truth in their expressions.He immediately went to the station, bought his ticket, got into the car,and as soon as he felt him self being carried away by the train, he felta fear, a kind of dizziness, at what he was going to do. In order not toweaken, back down, and return alone, he tried not to think of the matterany longer, to bring his mind to bear on other affairs, to do what he haddecided to do with a blind resolution; and he began to hum tunes fromoperettas and music halls until he reached Paris.As soon as he found himself walking along the streets that led toTancret's, he felt like stopping, He paused in front of several shops,noticed the prices of certain objects, was interested in new things, feltlike taking a glass of beer, which was not his usual custom; and as heapproached his friend's dwelling he ardently hoped not meet him. ButTancret was at home, alone, reading. He jumped up in surprise, crying:"Ah! Bondel! what luck!"Bondel, embarrassed, answered: "Yes, my dear fellow, I happened to be inParis, and I thought I'd drop in and shake hands with you.""That's very nice, very nice! The more so that for some time you havenot favored me with your presence very often.""Well, you see--even against one's will, one is often influenced bysurrounding conditions, and as my wife seemed to bear you some ill-will""Jove! 'seemed'--she did better than that, since she showed me the door.""What was the reason? I never heard it.""Oh! nothing at all--a bit of foolishness--a discussion in which we didnot both agree.""But what was the subject of this discussion?""A lady of my acquaintance, whom you may perhaps know by name, MadameBoutin.""Ah! really. Well, I think that my wife has forgotten her grudge, forthis very morning she spoke to me of you in very pleasant terms."Tancret started and seemed so dumfounded that for a few minutes he couldfind nothing to say. Then he asked: "She spoke of me--in pleasantterms?""Yes.""You are sure?""Of course I am. I am not dreaming.""And then?""And then--as I was coming to Paris I thought that I would please you bycoming to tell you the good news.""Why, yes--why, yes--"Bondel appeared to hesitate; then, after a short pause, he added: "I evenhad an idea.""What is it?""To take you back home with me to dinner."Tancret, who was naturally prudent, seemed a little worried by thisproposition, and he asked: "Oh! really--is it possible? Are we notexposing ourselves to--to--a scene?""No, no, indeed!""Because, you know, Madame Bendel bears malice for a long time.""Yes, but I can assure you that she no longer bears you any ill--will.I am even convinced that it will be a great pleasure for her to see youthus, unexpectedly.""Really?""Yes, really!""Well, then! let us go along. I am delighted. You see, thismisunderstanding was very unpleasant for me."They set out together toward the Saint-Lazare station, arm in arm. Theymade the trip in silence. Both seemed absorbed in deep meditation.Seated in the car, one opposite the other, they looked at each otherwithout speaking, each observing that the other was pale.Then they left the train and once more linked arms as if to unite againstsome common danger. After a walk of a few minutes they stopped, a littleout of breath, before Bondel's house. Bondel ushered his friend into theparlor, called the servant, and asked: "Is madame at home?""Yes, monsieur.""Please ask her to come down at once."They dropped into two armchairs and waited. Both were filled with thesame longing to escape before the appearance of the much-feared person.A well-known, heavy tread could be heard descending the stairs. A handmoved the knob, and both men watched the brass handle turn. Then thedoor opened wide, and Madame Bondel stopped and looked to see who wasthere before she entered. She looked, blushed, trembled, retreated astep, then stood motionless, her cheeks aflame and her hands restingagainst the sides of the door frame.Tancret, as pale as if about to faint, had arisen, letting fall his hat,which rolled along the floor. He stammered out: "Mon Dieu--madame--it isI--I thought--I ventured--I was so sorry--"As she did not answer, he continued: "Will you forgive me?"Then, quickly, carried away by some impulse, she walked toward him withher hands outstretched; and when he had taken, pressed, and held thesetwo hands, she said, in a trembling, weak little voice, which was new toher husband:"Ah! my dear friend--how happy I am!"And Bondel, who was watching them, felt an icy chill run over him, as ifhe had been dipped in a cold bath.

Previous Authors："The Terror" Next Authors：The Thief