In December, the eighth month of her morning, Madame Josserand for the first time accepted an invitation to dine out. It was merely at the Duveyriers’, almost a family gathering, with which Clotilde opened her Saturday receptions of the new winter. The day before, Adèle had been told that she would have to help Julie with the washing-up. The ladies were in the habit of thus lending their servants to each other on the days when they gave parties.
“And above all, try and put a little more go into yourself,” said Madame Josserand to her maid-of-all-work. “I don’t know what you’ve got in your body now, you’re as limp as rags. Yet you’re fat and plump.”
Adèle was simply nine months gone in the family way. For a long time she had thought she was merely growing stouter, which greatly surprised her however; and she would get into a perfect rage, with her ever hungry empty stomach, on the days when madame triumphantly showed her to her guests; ah, well! those who accused her of weighing her servant’s bread might come and look at that great glutton, it was not likely she got so fat by merely licking the walls! When, in her stupidity, Adèle at length became aware of her misfortune, she restrained herself twenty times from telling the truth to her mistress, who was really taking advantage of her condition to make the neighborhood think that she was at length feeding her.
But, from this moment, terror stultified her entirely. Her village ideas once more took possession of her obtuse skull. She thought herself damned, she fancied that the gendarmes would come and take her, if she admitted her pregnancy. Then all her low cunning was made use of to hide it. She concealed the feelings of sickness, twice she thought she would drop down dead before her kitchen fire, whilst stirring some sauces. The pain that she had endured for the two last months with the obstinacy of an heroic silence was indeed frightful.
Adèle went up to bed that night about eleven o’clock. The thought of to-morrow evening terrified her; more drudgery, more bullying by Julie! and she could scarcely move about.
During the night she was seized with labor pains, and a desire came over her to move about, so as to walk them off. She therefore lighted the candle and began to wander round the room, her tongue dried up, tormented with a burning thirst, and her cheeks on fire. Hours passed in this cruel wandering, without her daring to put on her shoes, for fear of making a noise, whilst she was only protected against the cold by an old shawl thrown across her shoulders. Two o’clock struck, then three o’clock.
Not a soul stirred in the adjoining rooms, every one was snoring; she could hear Julie’s sonorous hum, whilst Lisa made a kind of hissing noise like the shrill notes of a fife. Four o’clock had just struck, when, seized with a violent pain, she felt that the end was approaching, and could not restrain uttering a loud cry.
At this the occupants of the other rooms began to rouse up. Voices thick with sleep were heard saying: “Well! what? who’s being murdered?—Some one’s being taken by force!—Don’t dream out loud like that!” Dreadfully frightened, she drew the bedclothes over the new-born child, which was uttering plaintive cries like a little kitten. But she soon heard Julie snoring again, after turning over; whilst Lisa, once more asleep, no longer uttered a sound. Then she experienced an immense relief, an infinite comfort of calm and repose, and lay as one dead.
She must have dozed thus for the best part of an hour. When six o’clock struck, the consciousness of her position awoke her again. Time was flying, she rose up painfully, and did whatever things came into her head, without deciding on them beforehand. A frosty moon shone full into the room. After dressing herself, she wrapped the infant up in some old rags, and then folded a couple of newspapers around it. It uttered no cry now, yet its little heart was beating.
Not one of the servants was about as yet, and, after getting slumbering Monsieur Gourd to unfasten the door from his room, she was able to go out and lay her bundle in the Passage Choiseul, the gates of which had just been opened, and then quietly returned up-stairs. She met no one. For once in her lifetime, luck was on her side!