the awakening and selected short stories(苏醒)-第38部分
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of them shuddered with superstitious dread of what it might portend。
〃She totin' Cheri！〃 some of them shouted。
Some of the more daring gathered about her； and followed at her heels；
only to fall back with new terror when she turned her distorted face upon
them。 Her eyes were bloodshot and the saliva had gathered in a white
foam on her black lips。
Some one had run ahead of her to where P'tit Maitre sat with his
family and guests upon the gallery。
〃P'tit Maitre！ La Folle done cross de bayou！ Look her！ Look her
yonda totin' Cheri！〃 This startling intimation was the first which they
had of the woman's approach。
She was now near at hand。 She walked with long strides。 Her eyes
were fixed desperately before her； and she breathed heavily； as a tired ox。
At the foot of the stairway； which she could not have mounted； she laid
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the boy in his father's arms。 Then the world that had looked red to La
Folle suddenly turned black；like that day she had seen powder and
blood。
She reeled for an instant。 Before a sustaining arm could reach her；
she fell heavily to the ground。
When La Folle regained consciousness； she was at home again； in her
own cabin and upon her own bed。 The moon rays； streaming in through
the open door and windows； gave what light was needed to the old black
mammy who stood at the table concocting a tisane of fragrant herbs。 It
was very late。
Others who had come； and found that the stupor clung to her； had gone
again。 P'tit Maitre had been there； and with him Doctor Bonfils； who
said that La Folle might die。
But death had passed her by。 The voice was very clear and steady
with which she spoke to Tante Lizette； brewing her tisane there in a corner。
〃Ef you will give me one good drink tisane； Tante Lizette； I b'lieve I'm
goin' sleep； me。〃
And she did sleep； so soundly； so healthfully； that old Lizette without
compunction stole softly away； to creep back through the moonlit fields to
her own cabin in the new quarters。
The first touch of the cool gray morning awoke La Folle。 She arose；
calmly； as if no tempest had shaken and threatened her existence but
yesterday。
She donned her new blue cottonade and white apron； for she
remembered that this was Sunday。 When she had made for herself a cup
of strong black coffee； and drunk it with relish； she quitted the cabin and
walked across the old familiar field to the bayou's edge again。
She did not stop there as she had always done before； but crossed with
a long； steady stride as if she had done this all her life。
When she had made her way through the brush and scrub cottonwood…
trees that lined the opposite bank； she found herself upon the border of a
field where the white； bursting cotton； with the dew upon it； gleamed for
acres and acres like frosted silver in the early dawn。
La Folle drew a long； deep breath as she gazed across the country。
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She walked slowly and uncertainly； like one who hardly knows how；
looking about her as she went。
The cabins； that yesterday had sent a clamor of voices to pursue her；
were quiet now。 No one was yet astir at Bellissime。 Only the birds that
darted here and there from hedges were awake； and singing their matins。
When La Folle came to the broad stretch of velvety lawn that
surrounded the house； she moved slowly and with delight over the springy
turf； that was delicious beneath her tread。
She stopped to find whence came those perfumes that were assailing
her senses with memories from a time far gone。
There they were； stealing up to her from the thousand blue violets that
peeped out from green； luxuriant beds。 There they were； showering
down from the big waxen bells of the magnolias far above her head； and
from the jessamine clumps around her。
There were roses； too； without number。 To right and left palms
spread in broad and graceful curves。 It all looked like enchantment
beneath the sparkling sheen of dew。
When La Folle had slowly and cautiously mounted the many steps that
led up to the veranda； she turned to look back at the perilous ascent she
had made。 Then she caught sight of the river； bending like a silver bow
at the foot of Bellissime。 Exultation possessed her soul。
La Folle rapped softly upon a door near at hand。 Cheri's mother soon
cautiously opened it。 Quickly and cleverly she dissembled the
astonishment she felt at seeing La Folle。
〃Ah； La Folle！ Is it you； so early？〃
〃Oui； madame。 I come ax how my po' li'le Cheri do； 's mo'nin'。〃
〃He is feeling easier； thank you； La Folle。 Dr。 Bonfils says it will be
nothing serious。 He's sleeping now。 Will you come back when he
awakes？〃
〃Non； madame。 I'm goin' wait yair tell Cheri wake up。〃 La Folle
seated herself upon the topmost step of the veranda。
A look of wonder and deep content crept into her face as she watched
for the first time the sun rise upon the new； the beautiful world beyond the
bayou。
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The Awakening and Selected Short Stories
Ma'ame Pelagie
I
When the war began； there stood on Cote Joyeuse an imposing
mansion of red brick； shaped like the Pantheon。 A grove of majestic live…
oaks surrounded it。
Thirty years later； only the thick walls were standing； with the dull red
brick showing here and there through a matted growth of clinging vines。
The huge round pillars were intact； so to some extent was the stone
flagging of hall and portico。 There had been no home so stately along
the whole stretch of Cote Joyeuse。 Every one knew that； as they knew it
had cost Philippe Valmet sixty thousand dollars to build； away back in
1840。 No one was in danger of forgetting that fact； so long as his
daughter Pelagie survived。 She was a queenly； white…haired woman of
fifty。 〃Ma'ame Pelagie；〃 they called her； though she was unmarried； as
was her sister Pauline； a child in Ma'ame Pelagie's eyes； a child of thirty…
five。
The two lived alone in a three…roomed cabin； almost within the
shadow of the ruin。 They lived for a dream； for Ma'ame Pelagie's dream；
which was to rebuild the old home。
It would be pitiful to tell how their days were spent to accomplish this
end； how the dollars had been saved for thirty years and the picayunes
hoarded； and yet； not half enough gathered！ But Ma'ame Pelagie felt sure
of twenty years of life before her； and counted upon as many more for her
sister。 And what could not come to pass in twentyin fortyyears？
Often； of pleasant afternoons； the two would drink their black coffee；
seated upon the stone…flagged portico whose canopy was the blue sky of
Louisiana。 They loved to sit there in the silence； with only each other
and the sheeny； prying lizards for company； talking of the old times and
planning for the new； while light breezes stirred the tattered vines high up
among the columns； where owls nested。
〃We can never hope to have all just as it was； Pauline；〃 Ma'ame
Pelagie would say； 〃perhaps the marble pillars of the salon will have to be
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replaced by wooden ones； and the crystal candelabra left out。 Should you
be willing； Pauline？〃
〃Oh； yes Sesoeur； I shall be willing。〃 It was always； 〃Yes； Sesoeur；〃 or
〃No； Sesoeur；〃 〃Just as you please； Sesoeur；〃 with poor little Mam'selle
Pauline。 For what did she remember of that old life and that old spendor？
Only a faint gleam here and there； the half…consciousness of a young；
uneventful existence； and then a great crash。 That meant the nearness of
war； the revolt of slaves； confusion ending in fire and flame through which
she was borne safely in the strong arms of Pelagie； and carried to the log
cabin which was still their home。 Their brother； Leandre； had known
more of it all than Pauline； and not so much as Pelagie。 He had left the
management of the big plantation with all its memories and traditions to
his older sister； and had gone away to dwell in cities。 That was many
years ago。 Now； Leandre's business called him frequently and upon long
journeys from home； and his motherless daughter was coming to stay with
he
