The Bagpipers

by George Sand

One of the worst tongues against Brulette was that of Mère Lamouche, ever since Brulette had found her out and taken the boy away from her. She had so long been the willing servant and slave of the girl that she knew she could look for no further gain from her, and in revenge she invented and told anything that people wanted her to say. She related, to whoever listened, how Brulette had sacrificed her honor to that "puny fellow, José," and that she was so ashamed of it that she had forced him to leave the place. José had submitted, on condition that she would marry no one else; and he was now in foreign parts trying to earn enough money to marry her. The child, said the woman, had been taken into the Bourbonnais country by men with blackened faces who called themselves muleteers, and whose acquaintance Joseph had made under pretence of buying his bagpipe; but there had never been any other bagpipe in the case than that squalling Charlot. About a year after his birth Brulette had gone to see her lover and the baby, in company with me and a muleteer who was as ugly as the devil. There we made acquaintance with a mendicant friar, who offered to bring the baby back for us, and with whom we concocted the story of its being a rich foundling; which was altogether false, for this child had brought not one penny of profit to Père Brulet.

When Mère Lamouche invented this tale, in which, you see, lies were mixed up with facts, her word was believed by everybody, and Joseph's short and almost secret visit assisted the belief. So, with much laughter and derision, Brulette was nicknamed "Josette."

In spite of my wrath at these outrageous stories, Brulette took so little pains to make herself agreeable, and showed by her care for the child such contempt for the gossips, that I began to get bewildered myself. Was it absolutely impossible that I had been a dupe? Once upon a time I had certainly been jealous of Joseph. However virtuous and discreet a girl might be, however shy the lad, it had often happened that love and ignorance got the better of them, and some young couples had never known the meaning of evil until they had committed it. If she had once done wrong, Brulette, a clever girl, was none the less capable of hiding her misfortune, being too proud to confess it, yet too right-minded to deceive others. Was it not by her orders that Joseph wished to make himself a worthy husband and father? It was certainly a wise and patient scheme. Was I deceived in thinking she had a fancy for Huriel? I might have been; but even if she had felt it, in spite of herself, she had not yielded to her feelings, and so had done no wrong to Joseph. In short, was it conscientious duty, or strength of friendship, which made her go to the relief of the poor sick man? In either case she was right to do so. If she were a mother, she was a good mother, though her natural inclinations were not that way. All women can have children, but all women are not fond of children for all that, and Brulette ought therefore to have the more credit for taking back her own in spite of her love for company, and the questions she thus raised as to the truth.

All things considered, I did not see, even in what I might suppose the worst of my cousin's conduct, anything that lowered my friendship for her. Only I felt she had been so contradictory in her statements that I no longer knew how to rely on them. If she loved Joseph then she had certainly been artful; but if she did not love him, she had been too lively in spirits and forgetful of what had happened, for a person who was resolved to do her duty.

If she had not been so ill-treated by the community, I might have lessened my visits, for these doubts certainly lowered my confidence in her; but on the contrary, I controlled myself and went to the house every day, taking pains not to show her the least distrust. For all this, I was continually surprised at the difficulty with which she broke herself in, as it were, to the duties of a mother. In spite of the weight of care I believed she had on her mind, there were times when all her beauty and youth came back to her. She wore neither silk nor laces, that is true, but her hair was silky, her stockings well-fitting, and her pretty little feet were itching for a dance wherever she saw a bit of greensward or heard the sound of the bagpipes. Sometimes at home, when the thought of a Bourbonnais reel came over her, she would put Charlot on her grandfather's knee and make me dance it with her, singing and laughing and carrying herself jauntily, as if all the parish were there to see her; but a minute later, if Charlot cried or wanted to go to bed, or to be carried, or to be fed when he wasn't hungry, or given drink that he didn't want, she would take him in her arms with tears in her eyes, like a dog who is being chained up, and then, with a sigh, she would croon him a tune or pamper him with a bit of cake.

Seeing how she regretted her gay life, I offered her my sister's services in taking care of the little one, while she went to the fêtes at Saint-Chartier. I must tell you that in those days there lived in the old castle (of which nothing is now left but the shell) an old maiden lady, who was very good-natured and gave balls to all the country round. Tradesmen and noblemen, peasants and artisans, as many as liked, went there. You saw gentlemen and ladies going along the abominable roads in mid-winter, mounted on horses and donkeys, and wearing silk stockings, silver shoe-buckles, and powdered wigs as white as the snow on the trees along the road. Nothing deterred the company, rich or poor, for they amused them hugely and were well entertained from midday till six at night.

The lady of Saint-Chartier, who had noticed Brulette dancing in the market-place the year before, and was always anxious to have pretty girls at her daylight balls, invited her, and by my advice, she went once. I thought it was good advice, for she seemed to be getting depressed and to make no effort to raise her spirits. She was always so sweet to look at, and so ready with the right thing to say, that I never thought it possible people wouldn't receive her kindly, especially when she dressed so well and looked so handsome.

When she entered on my arm, whisperings went round, but no one dared to do more. She danced first with me, and as she had that sort of charm that everybody yields to, others came and asked her, possibly intending to show her some freedom, but not daring to risk it. All went well till a party of rich folks came into the room where we were; for the peasantry, I should tell you, had their ballroom apart and did not mix with the rich till nearly the end, when the ladies, deserted by their partners, would come and mingle with the country girls, who attracted people of all kinds by their lively chatter and their healthy looks.

Brulette was at first stared at as the handsomest article of the show, and the silk stockings paid such attention to the woollen stockings that no one could get near her. Then, in the spirit of contradiction, all those who had been tearing her to pieces for the last six months became frantically jealous all at once, and more in love than they had ever been. So then it was a struggle who should invite her first; in fact, they were almost ready to fight for the kiss that opened the dance.

The ladies and the young ladies were provoked; and our class of women complained to the lads for not keeping up their ill-will; but they might as well have talked to the winds; one glance of a pretty girl has more sweetness than the tongue of an ugly one has venom.