Letters From My Windmill Alphonse Daudet (top 10 ebook reader .txt) 📖

back of the yard, with his elbows on alarge stone table, and his head in his hands. He was wearing anill-fitting jacket and tattered trousers…. The sight of him stoppedme in my tracks. One of the men whispered, almost inaudibly, to me:

—Sush. It's the Master. He's been like that since his son's death.

At that moment a woman and a small boy, both dressed in black andaccompanied by fat and sun-tanned villagers, passed near us and wentinto the farm.

The man went on:

—… The lady and the youngest, Cadet, are coming back from the mass.Every day it's the same thing since the eldest killed himself. Oh,monsieur, what a tragedy. The father still goes round in his mourningweeds, nothing will stop him…. Gee-up!

The wagon lurched ready to go, but I still wanted to know more, so Iasked the driver if I could sit with him, and it was up there in thehay, that I learned all about the tragic story of young Jan.

* * * * *

Jan was an admirable countryman of twenty, as well-behaved as a girl,well-built and open-hearted. He was very handsome and so caught the eyeof lots of women, but he had eyes for only one—a petite girl fromArles, velvet and lace vision, whom he had once met in the town's mainsquare. This wasn't well received at first in the farm. The girl wasknown as a flirt, and her parents weren't local people. But Jan wantedher, whatever the cost. He said:

—I will die if I don't have her. And so, it just had to be. Themarriage was duly arranged to take place after the harvest.

One Sunday evening, the family were just finishing dinner in thecourtyard. It was almost a wedding feast. The fiancée was not there,but her health and well-being were toasted throughout the meal…. Aman appeared unexpectedly at the door, and stuttered a request to speakto Estève, the master of the house, alone. Estève got up and went outonto the road.

—Monsieur, the man said, you are about to marry your boy off to awoman who is a bitch, and has been my mistress for two years. I haveproof of what I say; here are some of her letters!… Her parents knowall about it and have promised her to me, but since your son took aninterest in her, neither she nor they want anything to do with me….And yet I would have thought that after what has happened, she couldn'tin all conscience marry anyone else.

—I see, said Master Estève after scanning the letters; come in; have aglass of Muscat.

The man replied:

—Thanks, but I am too upset for company.

And he went away.

The father went back in, seemingly unaffected, and retook his place atthe table where the meal was rounded off quite amiably.

That evening, Master Estève went out into the fields with his son. Theystayed outside some time, and when they did return the mother waswaiting up for them.

—Wife, said the farmer bringing their son to her, hug him, he's veryunhappy….

* * * * *

Jan didn't mention the Arlesienne ever again. He still loved herthough, only more so, now he knew that she was in the arms of someoneelse. The trouble was that he was too proud to say so, and that's whatkilled the poor boy. Sometimes, he would spend entire days alone,huddled in a corner, motionless. At other times, angry, he would sethimself to work on the farm, and, on his own, get through the work often men. When evening came, he would set out for Arles, and walkexpectantly until he saw the town's few steeples appearing in thesunset. Then he turned round and went home. He never went any closerthan that.

The people in the farm didn't know what to do, seeing him always sadand lonely. They feared the worst. Once, during a meal, his mother, hereyes welling with tears, said to him:

—Alright, listen Jan, if you really want her, we will let you takeher….

The father, blushing with shame, lowered his head….

Jan shook his head and left….

From that day onwards, Jan changed his ways, affecting cheerfulness allthe time to reassure his parents. He was seen again at balls, cabarets,and branding fetes. At the celebrations at the Fonvieille fete, heactually led the farandole.

His father said: "He's got over it." His mother, however, still had herfears and kept an eye on her boy more than ever…. Jan slept in thesame room as Cadet, close to the silkworms' building. The poor mothereven made up her bed in the next room to theirs … explaining bysaying that the silkworms would need attention during the night.

Then came the feast day of St. Eli, patron saint of farmers.

There were great celebrations in the farm…. There was plenty ofChâteau-Neuf for everybody and the sweet wine flowed in rivers. Thenthere were crackers, and fireworks, and coloured lanterns all over thenettle trees. Long live St. Eli! They all danced the farandole untilthey dropped. Cadet scorched his new smock…. Even Jan looked content,and actually asked his mother for a dance. She cried with joy.

At midnight they all went to bed; everybody was tired out. But Janhimself didn't sleep. Cadet said later that he had been sobbing thewhole night. Oh, I tell you, he was well smitten that one….

* * * * *

The next morning the mother heard someone running across her sons'bedroom. She felt a sort of presentiment:

—Jan, is that you?

Jan didn't reply, he was already on the stairs.

His mother got up at once:

—Jan, where are you going?

He went up into the loft, she followed him:

—In heavens name, son!

He shut and bolted the door:

—Jan, Jan, answer me. What are you doing?

Her old trembling hands felt for the latch…. A window opened; therewas the sound of a body hitting the courtyard slabs. Then … an awfulsilence.

The poor lad had told himself: "I love her too much…. I want to endit all…." Oh, what pitiful things we are! It's all too much; evenscorn can't kill love….

That morning, the village people wondered who could be howling likethat, down there by Estève's farm.

It was the mother in the courtyard by the stone table which was