by Eugène Sue
CHAPTER V.
THE DELIRIUM OF STARVATION.
Too old a man to think of contesting the spoils for which he hadreturned to Gregory's tavern, Yvon hurried back home and reached his huttowards midnight.
On entering, a torch of resinous wood, fastened near the wall by an ironring, lighted a heart-rending spectacle. Stretched out near the hearthlay Den-Brao, his face covered by his mason's jacket; himself expiringof inanition, he wished to escape the sight of the agony of his family.His wife, Gervaise, so thin that the bones of her face could be counted,was on her knees near a straw pallet where Julyan lay in convulsions.Almost fainting, Gervaise struggled with her son who was alternatelycrying with fury and with pain and in the frenzy of starvation sought toapply its teeth to his own arms. Nominoe, the elder, lay flat on hisface, on the pallet with his brother. He would have been taken for deadbut for the tremor that from time to time ran over his frame still moreemaciated than his brother's. Finally Jeannette, about three years old,murmured in her cradle with a dying voice: "Mother ... I am hungry.... Iam hungry!"
At the sound of Yvon's steps, Gervaise turned her head: "Father!" saidshe in despair, "if you bring nothing with you, I shall kill my childrento shorten their agony ... and then myself!"
Yvon threw down his bow and took his bag from his shoulders. Gervaisejudged from its size and obvious weight that it was full. She wrenchedit from Yvon's hands with savage impatience, thrust her hand in it,pulled out the chunk of roasted meat and raising it over her head toshow it to the whole family cried out in a quivering voice: "Meat!...Oh, we shall not yet die! Den-Brao.... Children!... Meat!... Meat!" Atthese words Den-Brao sat up precipitately; Nominoe, too feeble to rise,turned on his pallet and stretched out his eager hands to his mother;little Jeannette eagerly looked up from her cradle; while Julyan, whomhis mother was not now holding, neither heard nor saw aught but wasbiting into his arms in the delirium of starvation, unnoticed by eitherYvon or any other member of the family. All eyes were fixed uponGervaise, who running to a table and taking a knife sliced off the meatcrying: "Meat!... Meat!"
"Give me!... Give me!" cried Den-Brao, stretching out his emaciatedarms, and he devoured in an instant the piece that he received.
"You next, Jeannette!" said Gervaise, throwing a slice to the littlegirl who uttered a cry of joy, while her mother herself, yielding to thecravings of starvation bit off mouthfuls from the slice that she reachedout to her oldest son, Nominoe, who, like the rest, pounced upon theprey, and fell to eating in silent voracity. "And now, you, Julyan,"continued Gervaise. The lad made no answer. His mother stooped down overhim: "Julyan, do not bite your arm! Here is meat, dear boy!" But hiselder brother, Nominoe, having swallowed up his own slice, brusquelyseized that which his mother was tendering to Julyan. Seeing that thelatter continued motionless, Gervaise insisted: "My child, take your armfrom your teeth!" But hardly had she pronounced these words than,turning towards Yvon, she cried: "Come here, father.... His arm is icyand rigid ... so rigid that I cannot withdraw it from his jaws."
Yvon rushed to the pallet where Julyan lay. The little boy had expiredin the convulsion of hunger, although less unfeebled than his brotherand sister. "Step aside," Yvon said to Gervaise; "step aside!" Sherealized that Julyan was dead, obeyed Yvon's orders and went on to eat.But her hunger being appeased, she approached her son's corpse andsobbed aloud:
"My poor little Julyan!" she lamented. "Oh, my dear child! You died ofhunger!... A few minutes longer and you would have had something to eatlike the others ... at least for to-day!"
"Where did you get this roast, father?" asked Den-Brao.
"I found the tracks of a buck," answered Yvon dropping his eyes; "Ifollowed the animal but failed to come up to it. In that way I went asfar as the tavern of Gregory the Hollow-bellied. He was at supper.... Ishared his repast, and he gave me what you have just eaten."
"Such a gift! and in days of famine, father! in such days when onlyseigneurs and the clergy do not suffer of hunger!"
"I made the tavern-keeper sympathize with our distress," Yvon answeredbrusquely, and, in order to put an end to the subject he added: "I amworn out with fatigue; I must rest," saying which he walked into thecontiguous room to stretch himself out on his couch, while his son anddaughter remained on their knees near the body of little Julyan. Theother two children fell asleep, still saying they were hungry. After along and troubled sleep, Yvon woke up. It was day. Gervaise and herhusband still knelt near Julyan. His brother and sister were saying:"Mother, give us something to eat; we are hungry!"
"Later, dear little ones," answered the unhappy woman to console them;"later you shall have something to eat."
Den-Brao raised his head and asked: "Where are you going, father?"
"I am going to dig the grave of my little grandson.... I wish to saveyou the sad task."
"Dig ours also, father," Den-Brao replied with a dejected mien. "Weshall all die to-night. For a moment allayed, our hunger will rise moreviolent than last night ... dig a wide grave for us all."
"Despair not, my children. It has stopped snowing. I may be able to findagain the traces of the buck."
Yvon picked up a spade with which to dig Julyan's grave near where theboy's great-grandfather, Leduecq, lay buried. Near the place was a heapof dead branches that had been gathered shortly before by the woodsmenserfs to turn into coal. After the grave was dug, Yvon left his spadenear it and as the snow had ceased falling he started anew in pursuit ofthe buck. It was in vain. Nowhere were the animal's tracks to be seen.It grew night with the prospect of a long darkness, seeing the moonwould not rise until late. Yvon was reminded by the pangs of hunger,that began to assail him, that in his hut the sufferings must havereturned. A spectacle, even more distressing than that of the previousnight now awaited him--the convulsive cries of starving children, themoaning of their mother, the woe-begone looks and dejectment of his sonwho lay on the floor awaiting death, and reproaching Yvon for havingprolonged his own and the sufferings of his family with their lives.Such was the prostration of these wretched beings that, without turningtheir heads to Yvon, or even addressing a single word to him, they lethim carry out the corpse of the deceased child.
An hour later Yvon re-entered his hut. It was pitch dark; the hearth wascold. None had even the spirit to light a resin torch. Hollow andspasmodic rattlings were heard from the throats of those within.Suddenly Gervaise jumped up and groped her way in the dark towards Yvoncrying: "I smell roast meat ... just as last night ... we shall notdie!... Den-Brao, your father has brought some more meat!... Come,children, come for your share.... A light quick!"
"No, no! We want no light!" Yvon cried in a tremulous voice. "Take!"said he to Gervaise, who was tugging at the bag on his shoulders."Take!... Divide this venison among yourselves, and eat in the dark!"
The wretched family devoured the meat in the dark; their hunger andfeebleness did not allow them to ask what kind of meat it was. But Yvonfled from the hut almost crazed with horror. Abomination! His family wasagain feeding upon human flesh!