the four horsemen of the apocalypse-第33部分

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　Socialists　would　bethink　ourselves　of　our　anti…　militarism。　　But　this　is　self…defense；　and　the　government　has　not　been　at　fault。　　Since　we　are　attacked；　we　must　be　united　in　our　defensive。〃

The　carpenter；　who　was　also　anti…clerical；　was　now　showing　a　more　generous　tolerance；　an　amplitude　of　ideas　that　embraced　all　mankind。　The　day　before　he　had　met　at　the　administration　office　a　Reservist　who　was　just　leaving　to　join　his　regiment。　　At　a　glance　he　saw　that　this　man　was　a　priest。

〃I　am　a　carpenter；〃　he　had　said　to　him；　by　way　of　introduction；　〃and　you；　comrade；　are　working　in　the　churches？〃

He　employed　this　figure　of　speech　in　order　that　the　priest　might　not　suspect　him　of　anything　offensive。　　The　two　had　clasped　hands。

〃I　do　not　take　much　stock　in　the　clerical　cowl；〃　Robert　explained　to　Desnoyers。　　〃For　some　time　I　have　not　been　on　friendly　terms　with　religion。　　But　in　every　walk　of　life　there　must　be　good　people；　and　the　good　people　ought　to　understand　each　other　in　a　crisis　like　this。　　Don't　you　think　so；　Boss？〃

The　war　coincided　with　his　socialistic　tendencies。　　Before　this；　when　speaking　of　future　revolution；　he　had　felt　a　malign　pleasure　in　imagining　all　the　rich　deprived　of　their　fortunes　and　having　to　work　in　order　to　exist。　　Now　he　was　equally　enthusiastic　at　the　thought　that　all　Frenchmen　would　share　the　same　fate　without　class　distinction。

〃All　with　knapsacks　on　their　backs　and　eating　at　mess。〃

And　he　was　even　extending　this　military　sobriety　to　those　who　remained　behind　the　army。　　War　was　going　to　cause　great　scarcity　of　provisions；　and　all　would　have　to　come　down　to　very　plain　fare。

〃You；　too；　Boss；　who　are　too　old　to　go　to　waryou；　with　all　your　millions；　will　have　to　eat　the　same　as　I。　。　。　。　　Admit　that　it　is　a　beautiful　thing。〃

Desnoyers　was　not　offended　by　the　malicious　satisfaction　that　his　future　privations　seemed　to　inspire　in　the　carpenter。　　He　was　very　thoughtful。　　A　man　of　his　stamp；　an　enemy　of　existing　conditions；　who　had　no　property　to　defend；　was　going　to　warto　death；　perhaps　because　of　a　generous　and　distant　ideal；　in　order　that　future　generations　might　never　know　the　actual　horrors　of　war！　　To　do　this；　he　was　not　hesitating　at　the　sacrifice　of　his　former　cherished　beliefs；　all　that　he　had　held　sacred　till　now。　。　。　。　　And　he　who　belonged　to　the　privileged　class；　who　possessed　so　many　tempting　things；　requiring　defense；　had　given　himself　up　to　doubt　and　criticism！　。　。　。

Hours　after；　he　again　saw　the　carpenter；　near　the　Arc　de　Triomphe。　He　was　one　of　a　group　of　workmen　looking　much　as　he　did；　and　this　group　was　joining　others　and　still　others　that　represented　every　social　classwell…dressed　citizens；　stylish　and　anaemic　young　men；　graduate　students　with　worn　jackets；　pale　faces　and　thick　glasses；　and　youthful　priests　who　were　smiling　rather　shamefacedly　as　though　they　had　been　caught　at　some　ridiculous　escapade。　　At　the　head　of　this　human　herd　was　a　sergeant；　and　as　a　rear　guard；　various　soldiers　with　guns　on　their　shoulders。　　Forward　march；　Reservists！　。　。　。

And　a　musical　cry；　a　solemn　harmony　like　a　Greek　chant；　menacing　and　monotonous；　surged　up　from　this　mass　with　open　mouths；　swinging　arms；　and　legs　that　were　opening　and　shutting　like　compasses。

Robert　was　singing　the　martial　chorus　with　such　great

energy　that　his　eyes　and　Gallic　moustachios　were　fairly　trembling。　In　spite　of　his　corduroy　suit　and　his　bulging　linen　hand　bag；　he　had　the　same　grand　and　heroic　aspect　as　the　figures　by　Rude　in　the　Arc　de　Triomphe。　　The　〃affinity〃　and　the　boy　were　trudging　along　the　sidewalk　so　as　to　accompany　him　to　the　station。　　For　a　moment　he　took　his　eyes　from　them　to　speak　with　a　companion　in　the　line；　shaven　and　serious…looking；　undoubtedly　the　priest　whom　he　had　met　the　day　before。　　Now　they　were　talking　confidentially；　intimately；　with　that　brotherliness　which　contact　with　death　inspires　in　mankind。

The　millionaire　followed　the　carpenter　with　a　look　of　respect；　immeasurably　increased　since　he　had　taken　his　part　in　this　human　avalanche。　　And　this　respect　had　in　it　something　of　envy；　the　envy　that　springs　from　an　uneasy　conscience。

Whenever　Don　Marcelo　passed　a　bad　night；　suffering　from　nightmare；　a　certain　terrible　thingalways　the　samewould　torment　his　imagination。　　Rarely　did　he　dream　of　mortal　peril　to　his　family　or　self。　　The　frightful　vision　was　always　that　certain　notes　bearing　his　signature　were　presented　for　collection　which　he；　Marcelo　Desnoyers；　the　man　always　faithful　to　his　bond；　with　a　past　of　immaculate　probity；　was　not　able　to　pay。　　Such　a　possibility　made　him　tremble；　and　long　after　waking　his　heart　would　be　oppressed　with　terror。　　To　his　imagination　this　was　the　greatest　disgrace　that　a　man　could　suffer。

Now　that　war　was　overturning　his　existence　with　its　agitations；　the　same　agonies　were　reappearing。　　Completely　awake；　with　full　powers　of　reasoning；　he　was　suffering　exactly　the　same　distress　as　when　in　his　horrible　dreams　he　saw　his　dishonored　signature　on　a　protested　document。

All　his　past　was　looming　up　before　his　eyes　with　such　extraordinary　clearness　that　it　seemed　as　though　until　then　his　mind　must　have　been　in　hopeless　confusion。　　The　threatened　land　of　France　was　his　native　country。　　Fifteen　centuries　of　history　had　been　working　for　him；　in　order　that　his　opening　eyes　might　survey　progress　and　comforts　that　his　ancestors　did　not　even　know。　　Many　generations　of　Desnoyers　had　prepared　for　his　advent　into　life　by　struggling　with　the　land　and　defending　it　that　he　might　be　born　into　a　free　family　and　fireside。　。　。　。　　And　when　his　turn　had　come　for　continuing　this　effort；　when　his　time　had　arrived　in　the　rosary　of　generationshe　had　fled　like　a　debtor　evading　payment！　。　。　。　　On　coming　into　his　fatherland　he　had　contracted　obligations　with　the　human　group　to　whom　he　owed　his　existence。　　This　obligation　should　be　paid　with　his　arms；　with　any　sacrifice　that　would　repel　danger　。　。　。　and　he　had　eluded　the　acknowledgment　of　his　signature；　fleeing　his　country　and　betraying　his　trust　to　his　forefathers！　　Ah；　miserable　coward！　　The　material　success　of　his　life；　the　riches　acquired　in　a　remote　country；　were　comparatively　of　no　importance。　　There　are　failures　that　millions　cannot　blot　out。　　The　uneasiness　of　his　conscience　was　proving　it　now。　　Proof；　too；　was　in　the　envy　and　respect　inspired　by　this　poor　mechanic　marching　to　meet　his　death　with　others　equally　humble；　all　kindled　with　the　satisfaction　of　duty　fulfilled；　of　sacrifice　accepted。

The　memory　of　Madariaga　came　to　his　memory。

〃Where　we　make　our　riches；　and　found　a　familythere　is　our　country。〃

No；　the　statement　of　the　centaur　was　not　correct。　　In　normal　times；　perhaps。　　Far　from　one's　native　land　when　it　is　not　exposed　to　danger；　one　may　forget　it　for　a　few　years。　　But　he　was　living　now　in　France；　and　France　was　being　obliged　to　defend　herself　against　enemies　wishing　to　overpower　her。　　The　sight　of　all　her　people　rising　en　masse　was　becoming　an　increasingly　shameful　torture　for　Desnoyers；　making　him　think　all　the　time　of　what　he　should　have　done　in　his　youth；　of　what　he　had　dodged。

The　veterans　of　'70　were　passing　through　the　streets；　with　the　green　and　black　ribbon　in　their　lapel；　souvenirs　of　the　privations　of　the　Siege　of　Paris；　and　of　heroic　and　disastrous　campaigns。　　The　sight　of　these　men；　satisfied　with　their　past；　made　him　turn　pale。　　Nobody　was　recalling　his；　but　he　knew　it；　and　that　was　enough。　　In　vain　his　reason　would　try　to　lull　this　interior　tempest。　。　。　。　　Those　times　were　different；　then　there　was　none　of　the　present　unanimity；　the　Empire　was　unpopular　。　。　。　everything　was　lost。　。　。　。　　But　the　recollection　of　a　celebrated　sentence　was　fixing　itself　in　his　mind　as　an　obsession〃France　still　remained！〃　　Many　had　thought　as　he　did　in　his　youth；　but　they　had　not；　therefore；　evaded　military　service。　　They　had　stood　by　their　country　in　a　last　and　desperate　resistance。

Useless　was　his　excuse…making　reasoning。　　Nobler　thoughts　showed　him　the　fallacy　of　this　beating　around　the　bush。　　Explanations　and　demonstrations　are　unnecessary　to　the　understanding　of　patriotic　and　religious　ideals；　true　patriotism　does　not　need　them。　　One's　country　。　。　。　is　one's　country。　　And　the　laboring　man；　skeptical　and　jesting；　the　self…centred　farmer；　the　solitary　pastor；　all　had　sprung　to　action　at　the　sound　of　this　conjuring　word；　comprehending　it　instantly；　without　previous　instruction。

〃It　is　necessary　to　pay；〃　Don　Marcelo　kept　repeating　mentally。　　〃I　ought　to　pay　my　debt。〃

As　in　his　dreams；　he　was　constantly　feeling　the　anguish　of　an　upright　and　desperate　man　who　wishes　to　meet　his　obligations。

Pay！　。　。　。　and　how？　　It　was　now　very　late。　　For　a　moment　the　heroic　resolution　came　into　his　head　of　offering　himself　as　a　volunteer；　of　marching　with　his　bag　at　his　side　in　some　one　of　the　groups　of　future　combatants；　the　same　as　the　carpenter。　　But　the　uselessness　of　the　sacrifice　came　immediately　into　his　mind。　　Of　what　use　would　it　be？　。　。　。　　He　looked　robust　and　was　well…preserved　for　his　age；　but　he　was　over　seventy；　and　only　the　young　make　good　soldiers。　Combat　is　but　one　incident　in　the　struggle。　　Equally　necessary　are　the　hardship　and　self…denial　in　the　form　of　interminable　marches；　extremes　of　temperature；　nights　in　the　open　air；　shoveling　earth；　digging　trenches；　loading　carts；　suffering　hunger。　。　。　。　　No；　it　was　too　late。　　He　could　not　even　leave　an　illustrious　name　that　might　serve　as　an　example。

Instinctively　he　glanced　behind。　　He　was　not　alone　in　the　world；　he　had　a　son　who　could　assume　his　father's　debt　。　。　。　but　that　hope　only　lasted　a　minute。　　His　son　was　not　French；　he　belonged　to　another　people；　half　of　his　blood　was　from　another　source。　　Besides；　how　could　the　boy　be　expected　to　feel　as　he　did？　　Would　he　even　understand　if　his　father　should　explain　it　to　him？　。　。　。　　It　was　useless　to　expect　anything　from　this　lady…killing；　dancing　clown；　from　this　fellow　of　senseless　bravado；　who　was　constantly　exposing　his　life　in　duels　in　order　to　satisfy　a　silly　sense　of　honor。

Oh；　the　meekness　of　the　bluff　Senor　Desnoyers　after　these　reflections！　。　。　。　　His　family　felt　alarmed　at　seeing　the　humility　and　gentleness　with　which　he　moved　around　the　house。　　The　two　men…　servants　had　gone　to　join　their　r