by Hector Malot
CHAPTER XIV
THE DEATH OF PRETTY-HEART
The sun came out brightly. Its rays fell on the white snow, and theforest, which the night before had looked so bleak and livid, was nowdazzling with a radiancy that blinded the eyes. Several times Vitalispassed his hand under the coverlet to feel Pretty-Heart, but the poorlittle monkey did not get warmer, and when I bent over him I could hearhim shivering and shaking. The blood in his veins was frozen.
"We must get to a village or Pretty-Heart will die," said Vitalis. "Letus start at once."
His wrappings were well heated and the little creature was rolled inthem. My master placed him under his vest, next his heart. We wereready.
"This was a shelter," said Vitalis, looking round the hut as we weregoing out, "that has made us pay dearly for its hospitality." His voicetrembled.
He went out first, and I followed in his footsteps. When we had gone afew yards we had to call to Capi. Poor dog, he had remained standingoutside the hut, his nose turned to the spot where his companions hadbeen taken by the wolves.
Ten minutes later we reached the main road. We passed a cart; thedriver told us that within an hour we should reach a village. This wasencouraging, yet it was difficult, even painful, to walk. The snow cameup to my waist. Many times I asked Vitalis after Pretty-Heart. Each timehe told me that he was still shivering. At last we saw the white roofsof a fair sized village. We were not in the habit of putting up at thebetter class inns. We always chose a poor place, where we were sure weshould not be driven away, and where they would not take all we had.
But this time Vitalis went into an inn where a beautiful sign hungoutside the kitchen door. The door was open and we could see the greatstove covered with shining copper saucepans, from which the steam wasrising. Ah, how good that soup smelled to the famished wanderers!
My master, putting on his most "gentlemanly" airs, and with his hat onhis head and his head thrown back, asked the landlady for a good bed anda fire. At first the landlady, who was a fine looking woman, had notcondescended to notice us, but Vitalis' grand manner evidently impressedher. She spoke to a maid and told her to take us up to a room.
"Quick, get into bed," said Vitalis, while the servant was lighting thefire. I looked at him in astonishment. Why go to bed? I would rather sitdown and eat something than go to bed.
"Quick, hurry up," repeated Vitalis.
There was nothing to do but to obey.
There was an eiderdown quilt on the bed. Vitalis pulled it right up tomy chin.
"Try and get warm," he said; "the warmer you are the better."
It seemed to me that Pretty-Heart needed warming much more than I,because I was not very cold now. While I laid still under the eiderdowntrying to get warm, Vitalis, to the servant's astonishment, turnedlittle Pretty-Heart round and round before the fire as though he weregoing to roast him.
"Are you warm?" Vitalis asked me after a few minutes.
"I'm suffocating."
"That's right."
He came to the bed quickly. He put Pretty-Heart in, telling me to holdhim close to my chest. The poor little animal, who always rebelled whenhe was made to do something that he did not want, seemed resigned toeverything. He let me hold him close to my body without making amovement. But he was not cold now; his body was burning.
My master, who had gone down to the kitchen, soon returned, carrying abowl of well sweetened wine. He tried to make Pretty-Heart drink a fewspoonfuls, but the poor little creature could not unclench his teeth.With his brilliant eyes he looked at us imploringly as though to ask usnot to torment him. Then he drew one arm from under the covers and heldit out to us.
I wondered what he meant. I looked inquiringly at Vitalis, whoexplained: Before I had met them Pretty-Heart had had inflammation ofthe lungs and they had had to bleed him, taking the blood from his arm.Knowing that he was sick now he wanted us to bleed him so that he couldget better as before.
Poor little monkey! Vitalis was touched to the heart, and this made himstill more anxious. It was evident that Pretty-Heart was ill and he mustbe very ill indeed to refuse the sugared wine that he liked so much.
"Drink the wine, Remi, and stay in bed," said Vitalis. "I'll go for adoctor."
I must admit that I also liked sugared wine and besides I was veryhungry. I did not let him tell me twice to drink it. After I had emptiedthe bowl I slid down under the eiderdown again, where the heat, aided bythe wine, nearly suffocated me.
Vitalis was not gone long. He soon returned, bringing with him agentleman wearing gold-rimmed spectacles--the doctor. Thinking that thedoctor might not put himself out for a monkey, Vitalis had not told himwho was his patient. When he saw me in bed, as red as a tomato, thedoctor put his hand on my forehead and said at once: "Congestion."
He shook his head with an air which augured nothing good.
Anxious to undeceive him for fear he might bleed me, I cried: "Why, I'mnot ill!"
"Not ill! Why, the child is delirious."
I lifted the quilt a bit and showed him Pretty-Heart, who had placedhis little arm round my neck.
"He's the one that's ill," I said.
"A monkey!" he exclaimed, turning angrily to Vitalis. "You've brought meout in such weather to see a monkey!..."
Our master was a smart man who was not easily ruffled. Politely, andwith his grand air, he stopped the doctor. Then he explained thesituation, how he had been caught in a snowstorm, and how through fearof the wolves Pretty-Heart had jumped up in an oak tree, where he hadbeen almost frozen to death. The patient might be only a monkey, butwhat a genius! and what a friend and companion to us! How could weconfide such a wonderful, talented creature to the care of a simpleveterinary surgeon? Every one knew that the village veterinary was anass, while every one knew that doctors were scientific men, even in thesmallest village. If one rings at a door which bears a doctor's name,one is sure to find a man of knowledge, and of generosity. Although themonkey is only an animal, according to naturalists they are so near likemen that often an illness is treated the same for one as for the other.And was it not interesting, from a scientific point of view, to studyhow these illnesses differed. The doctor soon returned from the doorwhere he had been standing.
Pretty-Heart, who had probably guessed that this person wearing thespectacles was a physician, again pushed out his arm.
"Look," cried Vitalis, "he wants you to bleed him."
That settled the doctor.
"Most interesting; a very interesting case," he murmured.
Alas! after examining him, the doctor told us that poor littlePretty-Heart again had inflammation of the lungs. The doctor took hisarm and thrust a lancet into a vein without him making the slightestmoan. Pretty-Heart knew that this ought to cure him.
After the bleeding he required a good deal of attention. I, of course,had not stayed in bed. I was the nurse, carrying out Vitalis'instructions.
Poor little Pretty-Heart! he liked me to nurse him. He looked at me andsmiled sadly. His look was quite human. He, who was usually so quick andpetulant, always playing tricks on one of us, was now quiet andobedient.
In the days that followed he tried to show us how friendly he felttowards us, even to Capi, who had so often been the victim of histricks. As in the usual trend of inflammation of the lungs, he soonbegan to cough; the attacks tired him greatly, for his little body shookconvulsively. All the money which I had, five sous, I spent on sugarsticks for him, but they made him worse instead of better. With his keeninstinct, he soon noticed that every time he coughed I gave him a littlepiece of sugar stick. He took advantage of this and coughed everymoment in order to get the remedy that he liked so much, and this remedyinstead of curing him made him worse.
When I found out this trick I naturally stopped giving him the candy,but he was not discouraged. First he begged for it with an appealinglook; then when he saw that I would not give it to him, he sat up in hisseat and bent his little body with his hand on his stomach, and coughedwith all his might. The veins in his fo
rehead stood out, the tears ranfrom his eyes, and his pretense at choking, in the end, turned to adreadful attack over which he had no control.
I had to stay at the inn with Pretty-Heart while my master went outalone. One morning upon his return he told me that the landlady haddemanded the sum that we owed her. This was the first time that he hadever spoken to me about money. It was quite by chance that I had learnedthat he had sold his watch to buy my sheepskin. Now he told me that hehad only fifty sous left. The only thing to do, he said, was to give aperformance that same day. A performance without Zerbino, Dulcie orPretty-Heart; why, that seemed to me impossible!
"We must get forty francs at once," he said. "Pretty-Heart must belooked after. We must have a fire in the room, and medicine, and thelandlady must be paid. If we pay her what we owe her, she will give usanother credit."
Forty francs in this village! in the cold, and with such poor resourcesat our command!
While I stayed at home with Pretty-Heart, Vitalis found a hall in thepublic market, for an out-of-door performance was out of the question.He wrote the announcements and stuck them up all over the village. Witha few planks of wood he arranged a stage, and bravely spent his lastfifty sous to buy some candles, which he cut in half so as to double thelights.
From the window of our room I saw him come and go, tramping back andforth in the snow. I wondered anxiously what program he could make. Iwas soon enlightened on this subject, for along came the town crier ofthe village, wearing a scarlet cap, and stopped before the inn. After amagnificent roll of his drum he read out our program.
Vitalis had made the most extravagant promises! There was to be presenta world-renowned artist--that was Capi--and a young singer who was amarvel; the marvel was myself. But the most interesting part of thefarce was that there was no fixed price for the entertainment. We reliedupon the generosity of the audience, and the public need not pay untilafter it had seen, heard, and applauded.
That seemed to me extraordinarily bold. Who was going to applaud us?Capi certainly deserved to be celebrated, but I ... I was not at allconvinced that I was a marvel.
Although Pretty-Heart was very ill at this moment, when he heard thedrum, he tried to get up. From the noise and Capi's barks, he seemed toguess that it was to announce our performance.
I had to force him back on his bed; then he made signs to me to give himhis general's uniform--the red coat and trousers with gold braid, andhat with the plume. He clasped his hands and went down on his knees tobeg me. When he saw that he could get nothing from me by begging, hetried what anger would do, then finally melted into tears. It wasevident that we should have a great deal of trouble to convince him thathe must give up all idea of playing that night. I thought it would bebetter not to let him know when we started.
When Vitalis returned, he told me to get my harp ready and all thethings we required for the entertainment. Pretty-Heart, who knew whatthis meant, turned to his master and commenced his entreaties again. Hecould not have better expressed his desires than by the sounds heuttered, the twisting of his face, and the turns of his body. There werereal tears on his cheeks and they were real kisses that he imprinted onVitalis' hand. "You want to play?" asked Vitalis, who had not been toldwhat happened before.
"Yes, oh, yes!" Pretty-Heart's whole person seemed to cry out. He triedto jump to show that he was no longer sick. We know very well that if wetook him out it would be his death.
It was time for us to start. Before going, I made up a good fire andwrapped Pretty-Heart up in his coverlets. He cried again and embracedme as much as he could, then we started.
As we tramped through the snow, my master told me what he expected ofme. We could not, of course, give our usual repertoire, as our principalactors were missing, but Capi and I could vie with each other in doingour best. We had to collect forty francs! Forty francs! It was terrible!Impossible!
Vitalis had prepared everything. All we had to do now was to light thecandles, but this was an extravagance that we could not indulge in untilthe room was filled, for our illuminations would not have to come to anend before our entertainment.
Whilst we took possession of our theater, the town crier, with his drum,came through the village streets for the last time. After I had dressedCapi and myself, I went outside and stood behind a pillar to watch thepeople arrive.
The roll of the drum became louder. It was approaching the market placeand I could hear a babble of voices. Behind the drum came a score ofyoungsters, all keeping step. Without stopping the beating of his drum,the town crier took up his place between the two large lamps that werelit at the entrance of our theater. The public had only to walk in andtake their seats for the performance to commence.
Alas! how long they were coming, and yet the drum at the door continuedgayly its _rat ta ta ta_. All the boys in the village must have beenthere. But it was not the youngsters who were likely to give us fortyfrancs. There would have to be some important people, open-handed andgenerous.
At last Vitalis decided that we ought to commence, although the hall wasfar from being full; but we could not wait longer, worried as we were bythe terrible question of candles.
I had to appear first and sing a few songs, accompanying myself on theharp. I must confess the applause that I received was very weak. I hadnever thought very much of myself as an entertainer, but the markedcoolness with which the audience received my efforts discouraged me. IfI did not please them they would certainly not give us anything. It wasnot for the glory that I was singing; it was for poor Pretty-Heart. Ah,how I wanted to stir this public, to make them enthusiastic.... But Icould see only too well that they did not consider me a marvel.
Capi was more successful. He received several encores. Thanks to Capi,the entertainment ended in a burst of applause. Not only did they claptheir hands, but they stamped their feet.
The decisive moment had arrived. While Capi, with the cup in his jaws,ran through the audience, I danced a Spanish dance on the stage, withVitalis playing an accompaniment. Would Capi collect forty francs? Thatwas the question which made my heart beat while I smiled at the publicin my pleasantest manner.
I was out of breath, but I still continued to dance, for I was not tostop until Capi had returned. He did not hurry himself; when he foundthat he did not receive a coin, he placed his paw against the person'spocket. At last I saw him about to return, and thought that I mightstop, but Vitalis made me a sign to go on.
I continued to dance, and going a few steps nearer Capi, I saw that thecup was not full; far from it. Vitalis had also seen this. Bowing to theaudience, he said:
"Ladies and gentlemen, I think that, without flattering ourselves, wehave conscientiously carried out our program, yet as our candles arestill burning, I will, if the public wishes, sing some songs myself. Ourdog, Capi, will make another quest and those who have not yet given willperhaps give this time. Please have your money ready."
Although Vitalis had been my teacher, I had never really heard him sing,or at least not as he sung that evening. He selected two songs, an airfrom "Joseph" and one from "Richard the Lion Hearted."
Although I was only a little boy and was no judge as to whether one sangwith technique or without, Vitalis' singing stirred me strangely. I wentinto a corner of the stage, for my eyes filled with tears as I listenedto his beautiful notes.
Through a mist, I saw a young lady, who occupied the first row, clap herhands with all her might. I had already noticed that she was not apeasant like the rest of the people in the hall. She was a lady, youngand beautiful, and from her handsome fur coat I took her to be therichest woman in the village. She had with her a little child who hadapplauded Capi heartily. It was probably her son for the likeness wasstriking.
After the first song, Capi went the round again. I saw with surprisethat the lady had not put anything into his cup.
When my master had finished the air from the second opera, she beckonedme to her.
"I want to speak to that gentleman," she said.
I was surp
rised, I thought she would have done better to have droppedsomething into the cup. Capi returned. He had collected very little moreon this second round.
"What does the lady want?" asked Vitalis.
"To speak to you."
"I have nothing to say."
"She did not give anything to Capi, perhaps she would like to give itnow."
"Then it is for Capi to go to her, not for me."
However, he decided to go, and took the dog with him. I followed them.By now a servant had appeared, carrying a lantern and a rug. He stoodbeside the lady and the child. Vitalis bowed coldly to her.
"Forgive me for having disturbed you," she said, "but I wanted tocongratulate you."
Vitalis bowed, without saying a word.
"I am a musician," continued the lady; "I am telling you this so thatyou will know how much I appreciate your superb talent."
Superb talent! My master! The dog trainer! I was amazed.
"An old man like me has no talent," he replied coldly.
"Do not think that I am inquisitive, but...." began the lady.
"I am quite willing to satisfy your curiosity, Madam," he said; "you aresurprised that a dog trainer is able to sing a little. But I have notalways been what I am now. When I was younger I was ... the servant of agreat singer, and like a parrot I imitated him. I began to repeat someof the songs he practiced in my presence. That is all."
The lady did not reply. She looked hard at Vitalis. He seemedembarrassed.
"Good-by, sir," she said at last, laying a stress on the word "sir.""Good-by, and once more let me thank you for the exquisite delight youhave given me this evening." And leaning towards Capi she dropped a goldpiece in his cup.
I thought that Vitalis would escort her to the door, but he did nothingof the kind, and when she was out of hearing I heard him swear softly inItalian.
"She gave Capi a louis," I said.
I thought he was going to give me a blow, but he let his raised handfall to his side.
"A louis," he said, as though he were coming out of a dream. "Ah, yes,poor Pretty-Heart. I had forgotten him. Let us go back to the littlecreature at once."
I climbed the stairs of the inn first and went into the room. The firewas not out, but there were no flames. I lit a candle quickly. I wassurprised not to hear any sound from Pretty-Heart. I found him, lyingunder his coverlets, stretched out his full length, dressed in hisgeneral's uniform. He appeared to be asleep. I leaned over him and tookhis hand gently to wake him up. His hand was cold. Vitalis came into theroom. I turned to him.
"Pretty-Heart is cold," I said.
My master came to my side and also leaned over the bed.
"He is dead," he said. "It was to be. Ah, Remi, boy, I did wrong to takeyou away from Mrs. Milligan. I am punished. Zerbino, Dulcie, and nowPretty-Heart and ... this is not the end!"