by Eugène Sue
CHAPTER XIII.
HOME AGAIN.
On the 10th of September, 1849, two days after General Plouernel broughtto Marik Lebrenn his pardon and complete restitution to civic andpolitical rights, the merchant's family was gathered in a modestapartment on the second floor of their house.
The shop had been closed two hours before. A lamp, placed upon a largeround center table, lighted the several personages who sat around it.
Madam Lebrenn was busy with the mercantile books of the establishment;her daughter, dressed in mourning, gently rocked on her knees a babeasleep; while George, also in mourning, like his wife, on account of thedeath of his grandfather Morin a few months previous, sketched on asheet of paper the draft of a wainscot. Immediately upon his marriage,and agreeable to the wishes of Lebrenn, George had established upon theprofit-sharing principle a large joiner's shop on the ground floor of ahouse contiguous to that of his father-in-law.
Sacrovir Lebrenn was reading a treatise on the mechanics of clothweaving, and from time to time inserted some notes in the margin of hisbook.
Jeanike was busy ironing some napkins, while Gildas, who sat before alittle table with a heap of articles of linen belonging to the shop, waslabeling and folding them in shape for exhibition in the show window.
Madam Lebrenn's face was pensive and sad. So also would surely have beenthe expression on the face of her daughter, then in the full bloom ofher beauty, had she not at that moment exchanged a sweet smile with herbabe, which stretched out its arms to her.
His mind drawn for a moment from his work by the gurgling laughter ofthe child, George turned his eyes to, and completed the group withinexpressible joy.
It was obvious that a settled grief weighed every instant, so to speak,upon this family, otherwise so tenderly and happily united. Indeed, notan hour seemed to pass without the sad thought embittering the minds ofall, that the so-much-beloved, so-much-venerated head was absent fromthe family hearth.
During the first week of the insurrectionary month of June, 1848, MadamLebrenn took a trip to Brittany in order to make some purchases of linenand visit several members of her family. She took her daughter andson-in-law with her. To the young couple the journey was a pleasuretrip. On his part, Sacrovir had gone to Lille on a business errand forhis father. He was due back in Paris before his mother's departure.Being, however, detained on the road longer than was expected, he onlylearned upon his return to Paris of the imprisonment of his father, whowas at first sent to the dungeons of the Tuileries as an insurgent.
So soon as tidings of this shocking event reached them, Madam Lebrenn,her daughter and George returned from Brittany in all haste.
Needless to say that Monsieur Lebrenn received in his prison all theconsolation that the love and devotion of his family could bestow uponhim. After his sentence his wife and children wished to follow him toRochefort, in order, at least, to live in the same city as he, and seehim often. He, however, firmly opposed the plan on several grounds, bothof family comfort, and interests. Moreover, the merchant's principalobjection to such an inconvenient transplantation of the whole householdwas--and in this his otherwise good judgment this time deceived him--hispositive conviction that a general amnesty would sooner or later bedecreed. He caused his family to share his belief, and they, in theirturn, were but too anxious to hug so bright a hope to their hearts. Thusdays, and weeks and months flowed by vainly hoping, and the hope everrising anew.
Every day the prisoner at Rochefort received a long collective letterfrom his wife and children; he, likewise, answered them every day.Thanks to these daily unbosomings, as much as to his own so firmlysteeled character, Lebrenn had sustained without faltering the horribleordeal from which his political enemy, the Count of Plouernel, was atlast able to secure his release.
The merchant's household continued to attend to their several pursuitsin silence. Presently Madam Lebrenn stopped writing for a moment andleaned her head upon her left hand, while her right remainedmotionless, holding the pen.
Noticing the preoccupation of his mother-in-law, George Duchene made asign to Velleda. The two looked at Madam Lebrenn in silence. Presentlyher daughter said to her lovingly:
"Mother, something seems to be troubling you! What is on your mind?"
"This is the first day, children, during the last thirteen months,"answered the merchant's wife, "that we have had no word from yourfather."
"If Monsieur Lebrenn were ill, mother," observed George, "and unable towrite to us, he would have let you know through some one else, soonerthan alarm you by silence. As we were saying a minute ago, it isprobable his letter miscarried this time, through some accident orother."
"George is right, mother," put in the young woman, "you must not yieldso readily to fears for father's safety."
"Besides, who knows," suggested Sacrovir bitterly, "the policeregulations are becoming so exacting and despotic that maybe theydecided to deprive father of his only consolation. The presentadministration of the country hates the republicans with such bitterhatred! Oh, we have relapsed into sad times."
"After imagining the future so beautiful!" exclaimed George with a sigh."And now to see it look so black, almost desperate! There is MonsieurLebrenn--he!--he!--sentenced to the galleys! Oh, such a sight is enoughto make one despair of the triumph of justice and right--except as anaccidental and transitory incident!"
"Oh, brother, brother! I feel as if a frightful ferment of hatred andvengeance were gathering and rising in my breast!" exclaimed themerchant's son in a hollow voice. "If I could have one day--one singleday--to pay back for all this--even if I were to spend the rest of mylife in torment."
"Patience, brother!" answered George. "Everyone has his turn--patience!"
"Children," interposed Madam Lebrenn in a grave and melancholy voice,"you speak of justice--do not mix words of vengeance or of hatred withit. Were your father here--and he is ever with us in the spirit--hewould tell you that the right does not hate--does not revenge itself.Hatred and vengeance make the head giddy. Those who persecuted yourfather and his party with such ferocity are a proof of what I say. Pitythem--do not follow their example."
"And yet to see what we see, mother!" cried the youth. "To think thatfather, our dear father, a man of such integrity and courage, of suchtried patriotism, finds himself at this hour in a convict's prison! Toknow that our enemies derive an insane joy from the prolongation of hisundeserved sufferings!"
"In what way does that affect the honor, courage or patriotism of yourfather, my child?" suggested Madam Lebrenn. "Is it in the power ofanybody in the world to stain that which is pure? to disgrace what isgreat? to turn an honest man into a felon? Do you imagine your fatheris honored less by his unjust sentence and the mark of the chain that heis now made to drag than by the wounds that he received in 1830? Will henot, when the hour of justice shall have sounded, step out of prisoneven more beloved, even more venerated than ever before? Oh, mychildren! We may weep over your father's absence, but let us neverforget that every day of his martyrdom exalts and does him honor!"
"You are right, mother," replied Sacrovir, sighing heavily. "Thoughts ofhatred and vengeance injure the heart."
"Oh!" exclaimed Velleda sadly. "Poor father! He looked forward toto-morrow's date with so much impatience!"
"To to-morrow?" George asked his wife. "Why so?"
"To-morrow is my son's birthday," explained Madam Lebrenn. "To-morrow,September 11, he will be twenty-one years of age. For several reasonsthat anniversary was to be a family holiday to us."
Hardly had Madam Lebrenn uttered these words when the street door bellwas heard to ring.
"Who can it be, so late? It is nearly midnight," observed Madam Lebrenn."Go and see who it is, Jeanike."
"I shall go, madam!" cried Gildas heroically, rising from his seat."There may be some danger."
"I do not think so," replied Madam Lebrenn; "but you may go."
A few minutes later Gildas returned holding in his hand a letter that hedelivered to Madam Leb
renn, saying:
"Madam, a messenger brought this--there is no answer."
Hardly had the merchant's wife cast her eyes upon the envelope when shecried:
"Children--a letter from your father!"
George, Sacrovir and Velleda rose together and drew near their mother.
"Singular," she pondered aloud and not without some signs of uneasinessas she examined the envelope which she was unsealing. "This letter mustcome from Rochefort, like all the others, and yet it is not stamped."
"Perhaps," observed George, "Monsieur Lebrenn commissioned someone whowas leaving Rochefort to bring it to you."
"And that must have been the cause of the delay," added Sacrovir. "Thatis the explanation."
Feeling not a little alarmed at the unusual occurrence, Madam Lebrennhastened to open the letter, which she proceeded to read aloud to herchildren:
"Dearly beloved friend, embrace our children in the name of a bit of good news, that will surprise you as much as it will make you happy--I have hopes of seeing you soon--"
When the merchant's wife uttered these words it became impossible forher to continue reading. Her children gathered around her and threwtheir arms about her neck with shouts of joy, too many and loud toreproduce, while George and Jeanike, standing at a respectful distance,shared the general family glee.
"Dear children, be sensible--do not let us rejoice too soon," cautionedMadam Lebrenn. "Your father only expresses a hope to us. God knows howoften our hopes of an amnesty have been dashed!"
"Oh, mother! Mother! Quick! Read on! finish the letter!" exclaimed thechildren in all keys of impatience. "We shall soon see whether the hopeis well founded."
Madam Lebrenn proceeded to read her husband's letter:
"I have hopes of seeing you soon again--sooner perhaps than you may imagine--"
"Do you see, mother, do you see!" cried the children, trembling with joyand clasping their hands as if in prayer.
"Good God! Good God! Is it possible! We are to see him soon again!"exclaimed Madam Lebrenn, wiping from her eyes the tears that darkenedthem, and she proceeded reading:
"When I say I _hope_, my dearly beloved friend, I mean more than a mere hope; it is in fact a certainty. I should, perhaps, have begun my letter by giving you this assurance; but, however well aware I am of your self-possession, I feared lest too sudden a surprise might hurt you and our children. By this time, I consider, your minds are quite familiarized with the idea of seeing me soon, very soon, not so? Accordingly, I now feel free to promise you--"
"Why, mother," broke in George interrupting the reading of the letter,"Monsieur Lebrenn must be in Paris!"
"In Paris!" the family cried in chorus.
"The letter bears no stamp," proceeded George excitedly. "MonsieurLebrenn has arrived--and he sent the letter ahead with a messenger."
"There can be no doubt! George is right," put in Madam Lebrenn.
And she read rapidly the rest of the missive:
"Accordingly, I now feel free to promise you that we shall all celebrate together our son's anniversary. That day begins to-night after twelve o'clock; at that hour, or, perhaps, even sooner, I shall be with you. Just so soon as the messenger who takes my letter to you, leaves the house, I shall run upstairs and wait--yes, I shall wait behind the door, there, near you."
No sooner were these last words read than Madam Lebrenn and her childrenprecipitated themselves upon the door.
It opened.
Indeed, Monsieur Lebrenn was there.
Futile to describe the transports of joy of this family when once againthey had their adored father in their midst!