Abbe Mouret's Transgression: Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Abbe Mouret, now wearing his cassock but still bareheaded, had come back
to kneel at the foot of the altar. In the grey light that streamed
through the window, his tonsure showed like a large livid spot amidst
his hair; and a slight quiver, as if from cold, sped down his neck. With
his hands tightly clasped he was praying earnestly, so absorbed in his
devotions that he did not hear the heavy footsteps of La Teuse, who
hovered around without daring to disturb him. She seemed to be grieved
at seeing him bowed down there on his knees. For a moment, she thought
that he was in tears, and thereupon she went behind the altar to watch
him. Since his return, she had never liked to leave him in the church
alone, for one evening she had found him lying in a dead faint upon the
flagstones, with icy lips and clenched teeth, like a corpse.

'Come in, mademoiselle!' she said to Desiree, who was peeping through
the vestry-doorway. 'He is still here, and he will lay himself up. You
know you are the only person that he will listen to.'

'It is breakfast-time,' she replied softly, 'and I am very hungry.'

Then she gently sidled up to the priest, passed an arm round his neck,
and kissed him.

'Good morning, brother,' she said. 'Do you want to make me die of hunger
this morning?'

The face he turned upon her was so intensely sad, that she kissed him
again on both his cheeks. He was emerging from agony. Then, on
recognising her, he tried to put her from him, but she kept hold of one
of his hands and would not release it. She would scarcely allow him to
cross himself, but insisted upon leading him away.

'Come! Come! for I am very hungry. You must be hungry too.'

La Teuse had laid out the breakfast beneath two big mulberry trees,
whose spreading branches formed a sheltering roof at the bottom of the
little garden. The sun, which had at last succeeded in dissipating the
stormy-looking vapours of early morning, was warming the beds of
vegetables, while the mulberry-trees cast a broad shadow over the
rickety table, on which were laid two cups of milk and some thick slices
of bread.

'You see how nice it looks,' said Desiree, delighted at breakfasting in
the fresh air.

She was already cutting some of the bread into strips, which she ate
with eager appetite. And as she saw La Teuse still standing in front of
them, she said, 'Why don't you eat something?'

'I shall, presently,' the old servant answered. 'My soup is warming.'

Then, after a moment's silence, looking with admiration at the girl's
big bites, she said to the priest: 'It is quite a pleasure to see her.
Doesn't she make you feel hungry, Monsieur le Cure? You should force
yourself.'

Abbe Mouret smiled as he glanced at his sister. 'Yes, yes,' he murmured;
'she gets on famously, she grows fatter every day.'

'That's because I eat,' said Desiree. 'If you would eat you would get
fat, too. Are you ill again? You look very melancholy. I don't want to
have it all over again, you know. I was so very lonely when they took
you away to cure you.'

'She is right,' said La Teuse. 'You don't behave reasonably, Monsieur le
Cure. You can't expect to be strong, living, as you do, on two or three
crumbs a day, as though you were a bird. You don't make blood; and
that's why you are so pale. Don't you feel ashamed of keeping as thin as
a lath when we are so fat; we who are only women? People will begin to
think that we gobble up everything and leave you nothing but the empty
plates.'

Then both La Teuse and Desiree, brimful of health and strength, scolded
him affectionately. His eyes seemed very large and bright, but empty,
expressionless. He was still gently smiling.

'I am not ill,' he said; 'I have nearly finished my milk.' He had
swallowed two mouthfuls of it, but had not touched the bread.

'The animals, now,' said Desiree, thoughtfully, 'seem to get on much
more comfortably than we do. The fowls never have headaches, have they?
The rabbits grow as fat as ever one wants them to be. And you never saw
my pig looking sad.'

Then, turning towards her brother, she went on with an air of rapture:

'I have named it Matthew, because it is so like that fat man who brings
the letters. It is growing so big and strong. It is very unkind of you
to refuse to come and look at it as you always do. You will come to see
it some day, won't you?'

While she was thus talking she had laid hold of her brother's share of
bread, and was eating away at it. She had already finished one piece,
and was beginning the second, when La Teuse became aware of what she was
doing.

'That doesn't belong to you, that bread! You are actually stealing his
food from him now!'

'Let her have it,' said Abbe Mouret, gently. 'I shouldn't have touched
it myself. Eat it all, my dear, eat it all.'

For a moment Desiree fell into confusion, with her eyes fixed upon the
bread, whilst she struggled to check her rising tears. Then she began to
laugh, and finished the slice.

'My cow,' said she, continuing her remarks, 'is never as sad as you are.
You were not here when uncle Pascal gave her to me, on the promise that
I would be a good girl, or you would have seen how pleased she was when
I kissed her for the first time.'

She paused to listen. A cock crowed in the yard, and a great uproar
followed, with flapping of wings and cackling, grunting, and hoarse
cries as if the whole yard were in a state of commotion.

'Ah! you know,' resumed Desiree, clapping her hands, 'she must be in
calf now. I took her to the bull at Beage, three leagues from here.
There are very few bulls hereabouts, you know.'

La Teuse shrugged her shoulders, and glanced at the priest with an
expression of annoyance.

'It would be much better, mademoiselle,' said she, 'if you were to go
and quiet your fowls. They all seem to be murdering one another.'

Indeed, the uproar in the yard had now become so great that the girl was
already hurrying off with a great rustling of her petticoats, when the
priest called her back. 'The milk, my dear; you have not finished the
milk.'

He held out his cup to her, which he had scarcely touched. And she came
back and drank the milk without the slightest scruple, in spite of La
Teuse's angry look. Then she again set off for the poultry-yard, where
they soon heard her reducing the fowls to peace and order. She had,
perhaps, sat down in the midst of them, for she could be heard gently
humming as though she were trying to lull them to sleep.

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