I brought my horse near the cart, and held out my hand to her; she gave me hers mechanically, smiling with great sweetness. I noticed with surprise that she wore on her long fingers two diamond rings; I thought that here were her mother’s rings still, and wondered how poverty had left them there. I would not have remarked as much to the old commandant for all the world; but, as he followed me with his eyes, and saw mine fixed on Laura’s fingers, he said to me with a certain air of pride:
“They are pretty big diamonds, aren’t they? They might fetch a price on occasion, but I did not want her to part from them, poor child. When they are touched, she cries, she is never without them. Otherwise, she never complains, and she can sew now and then. I have kept my word to her poor little husband, and, in truth, I don’t regret it. I have never left her, and I have said everywhere that she is my mad daughter. People have respected that. In the army everything gets arranged better than they would think at Paris, eh!—She has been through all the Emperor’s wars with me, and I have always got her through safe and sound. I have always kept her comfortable. With straw and a little carriage, it’s never impossible. Her dress was pretty well cared for, and I, being a major, with good pay, my Legion of Honour pension, and the monthly napoleon, whose value was double, formerly, I was quite able to keep things going, and she did not embarrass me. On the contrary, the officers of the 7th Light Horse would sometimes laugh at her child’s play.”
Then he went near, and tapped her on the shoulder, as he would have done to his little mule.
“Well, my girl! come now, say something to the lieutenant there: come, just a nod.”
She went on with her dominoes.
“Oh!” he said, “she is a little shy to-day, because it is raining. Yet she never catches cold. These mad people are never ill, it’s convenient in that way. At the Beresina and all through the retreat from Moscow, she went bareheaded.—There, my girl, go on playing, come, don’t worry about us; there, do as you please, Laurette.”
She took the hand that he rested on her shoulder, a great black and wrinkled hand; she lifted it timidly to her lips and kissed it like a poor slave. My heart was wrung by that kiss, and I turned my horse back violently.
“Shall we continue our march, commandant?” I said; “it will be night before we reach Béthune.”
The commandant carefully scraped off with the end of his sword the yellow mud that covered his boots; then he got up on the footboard of the cart, and pulled over Laura’s head the cloth hood of a little cloak she was wearing. He took off his black silk scarf and put it round his adopted daughter’s neck; after which he gave the mule a kick, jerked his shoulder, and said: “Off you go, you’re a poor lot!” and we set off again.
The rain was still falling dismally; the grey sky and the grey earth stretched out endlessly; a kind of wan light, a pale wet sun, was sinking behind great mills that were not turning. We relapsed into profound silence.