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by Corry Shores
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[Dumas. The Wolf-Leader (Le meneur de loups), entry directory]
[The following is summary. Boldface, underlining, bracketed commentary, and section subdivisions are my own. Proofreading is incomplete, so please forgive my mistakes. Text is copied from online sources (see bibliography below).]
Summary of
Alexandre Dumas
Le meneur de loups
The Wolf-Leader
21
“Le génie du mal”
“The Genius of Evil”
Brief summary (collecting those below):
__(21.1)__ (Recall from section 20 that Thibault the sorcerer had escaped capture by the gendarmes when his wolves came and chased them away.) Thibault returns to the remains of his burnt down hut (see section 19.1). “A heap of smoking cinders alone marked the place where it had stood; and as Thibault came in sight of it, he saw the wolves, as if he had appointed them to meet him there, forming an immense circle round the ruins, and looking upon them with an expression of mournful anger. They seemed to understand that by destroying this poor hut, made of earth and branches, the one who, by the compact with the black wolf, had been given them for master, had been made a victim. As Thibault entered the circle, all the wolves gave simultaneously a long and sinister sounding howl, as if to make him understand that they were ready to help in avenging him.” He takes a minute to think, “But he was not reflecting that the ruin which he saw around him was the consequence and the punishment of his jealous and covetous desires, which had gone on gathering strength. He felt neither repentance nor regret. That which dominated all other feeling in him was his satisfaction at the thought of being henceforth able to render to his fellow-creatures evil for evil, his pride in having, thanks to his terrible auxiliaries, the power to fight against those who persecuted him.” He thus calls for revenge on the Baron of Vez, who caused this destruction: “Come then, let us go from this hut to the Castle, and carry thither the desolation which they have brought home to me.” __(21.2)__ Thibault and his pack of wolves head toward the Château of Vez, leaving a path of destruction. The first night they kill off the animals on the farms of the Vez estate. Vez sees a mixture of human and animal behind the carnage: “The Baron was doubtful at first if this could be the work of the beasts against which he waged so fierce a warfare; there seemed something partaking rather of intelligence and revenge in it than of the mere unreasoning attacks of a pack of wild animals.” The next two nights Thibault and his wolves decimate the parks and stables of Soucy, Vivierès, Boursonnes, and Yvors. Thibault and his wolves have reached a high degree of what Deleuze & Guattari call “becoming-animal”: “The work of annihilation, once begun, must be carried out with desperate determination, and the master never left his wolves now; he slept with them in their dens, and lived in the midst of them, stimulating their thirst for blood. Many a woodman, many a heath-gatherer, came face to face in the thickets with the menacing white teeth of a wolf, and was either carried off and eaten, or just saved his life by the aid of his courage and his bill-hook. Guided by a human intelligence, the wolves had become organised and disciplined, and were far more formidable than a band of discontented soldiery let loose in a conquered country.” The people of the region become terrorized. “The Bishop of Soissons ordered public prayer to be made, asking God to send a thaw, for the unusual ferocity of the wolves was attributed to the great quantity of snow that had fallen. But the report also went about that the wolves were incited to their work, and led about by a man; that this man was more indefatigable, more cruel and insatiable than the wolves themselves; that in imitation of his companions he ate raw flesh and quenched his thirst in blood.” The Priest excommunicates Thibault, and Vez wants to hunt him down: “He was somewhat cast down at so much blood being spilt, and his pride was sorely hurt that his, the Grand Master’s, own cattle should have suffered so heavily from the very wolves he was especially appointed to destroy.” Vez is especially excited for the glory of this particular hunt for Thibault and his wolves. But despite the best efforts of Vez’s able hunting team, they could only catch the weaker wolves that pose no threat anyway, while “the larger, well-grown wolves, with their thick dark coats, their muscles like steel springs and their long slender feet—not one of these lost a hair in the war that was being made upon them. Thanks to Thibault they met their enemies in arms on nearly equal ground.” Even Vez undergoes some becoming-animal, “As the Baron of Vez remained for ever with his dogs, so did Thibault with his wolves.” The wolves use clever techniques to throw the dogs off their scent and to further confuse Vez’s expert tracking judgement. (Englouvant, by the way, has taken Marcotte’s place as chief pricker.) With time, Vez’s hounds are decimated by the wolf pack, and “The stable was in no better condition than the kennel.” Baron Vez changes tactics and tries using battue beating, but Thibault simply goes to places where the beaters are not working. The hunt goes on for several months. “Both the Baron and Thibault carried out the task each had set before himself, with equally passionate energy; the latter, like his adversary, seemed to have required some supernatural power, whereby he was able to resist fatigue and excitement; and this was the more remarkable seeing that during the short intervals of respite accorded by the Lord of Vez, the Wolf-leader was by no means at peace in himself.” However sometimes Thibault becomes gloomy when thinking about Agnelette, because “he felt he loved her more than he had ever thought it possible for him to love anybody. At times he would weep at the thought of all his lost happiness, at others he was seized with a wild fit of jealousy against the one to whom she now belonged,—she, who at one time, might if he had liked, have been his.” __(21.3)__ One day the Baron was busy making preparations and so was not hounding Thibault and the wolves for a while. Thibault was in a gloomy mood from thinking about Agnelette, and he “wandered forth from the den where he lived in company with the wolves.” He reflects on his earlier, simpler, and happier life before his pact with the devil. He has wandered near the place he first saw Agnelette, and he hears a cry of distress, which he runs toward. There “he saw a woman struggling with an immense wolf which had thrown her on the ground. Thibault could not have said why he was so agitated at this sight, nor why his heart beat more violently than usual; he rushed forward and seizing the animal by the throat hurled it away from its victim, and then lifting the woman in his arms, he carried her to the side of the lane and laid her on the slope. Here a ray of moonlight, breaking through the clouds, fell on the face of the woman he had saved, and Thibault saw that it was Agnelette.” She is terrified upon seeing it is Thibault. She pleads with him not to kill her, for the sake of her grandmother. “The Wolf-leader stood overcome with consternation; up to this hour he had not fully realised the hideous renown which he had gained; but the terror which the sight of him inspired in the woman who had loved him and whom he still loved, filled him with a horror of himself.” To explain why he went astray in his life, he confesses his love for her: “you do not understand that I loved you—that I adored you Agnelette, and that the loss of you sent me out of my mind?” She asks what prevented him from marrying her, and he says, “The spirit of evil [L’esprit du mal].” Agnelette confesses that she loved him too “and I suffered cruelly waiting for you.” She says that she is not allowed to love Thibault anymore (because she is now married to Engoulevent, see section 14.2), but she can never forget her first love, Thibault. She also says she is not to blame for having been afraid of Thibault’s ring (which was exchanged as a token of his pact with the Wolf-Devil, see section 5.1, and which refused to leave Thibault and be given to Agnelette, see section 6.2.) Thibault now tries to remove the ring to satisfy Agnelette, but even with his best efforts it will not come off his finger: “In vain he struggled with it, and tried to move it with his teeth; the ring seemed rivetted to his finger for all eternity. Thibault saw that it was no use trying to get rid of it; it was a token of compact between himself and the black wolf [c’était le gage du pacte passé entre lui et le loup noir].” Agnelette then observes “Thibault’s hair. Thibault was bare-headed, and, by the light of the moon Agnelette could see that it was no longer a single hair that shone red as the flames of hell [flammes de l’enfer], but that half the hair on Thibault’s head was now of this devil’s colour [la teinte diabolique].” She is alarmed and asked what has happened to him. Thibault falls crying, saying she would be the only one he could possibly confess to, and asks if she truly loved him. She says she used to wait for him to come to the door to announce his love of her to her grandmother, and whenever someone came that was not he, she would take to the corner and cry from disappointment. She explains that she moved out of their house at Vez because there was no room there for her grandmother, so she moved back in with her. He wants her to confess her love to him, despite her current marriage, and he promises her great things with his last wishes: “you do not know my power. I know that I have only a wish or two left, but with your help, by combining these wishes together, I could make you as rich as a queen.... We could leave the country, leave France, Europe; there are large countries, of which you do not even know the names, Agnelette, called America and India. They are paradises, with blue skies, tall trees and birds of every kind. Agnelette, say that you will come with me; nobody will know that we have gone off together, nobody will know where we are, nobody will know that we love one another, nobody will know even that we are alive.” He continues to try to convince her to run off with him, which he says will result in him being saved and potentially being restored to his previous, modest life: “I am going to speak to you in the name of this world and the next. Do you wish to save me, Agnelette, body and soul? If so, do not resist my pleading, have pity on me, come with me; let us go somewhere together, where we shall no longer hear these howlings, or breathe this atmosphere of reeking flesh; and, if it scares you to think of being a rich, grand lady, somewhere then where I can again be Thibault the workman, Thibault, poor but beloved, and, therefore, Thibault happy in his hard work, some place where Agnelette will have no other husband but me.” She says she cannot betray Engoulevent, because he has sacrificed and pledged himself to her. She will not say that she loves Thibault or that she does not love Engoulevent, but she is a committed friend to him, and she prays for his salvation: “‘I should like to see you happy, my friend; above all I should like to see you abjure your evil ways and repent of your sins; and last of all, I wish that God may have mercy upon you, and that you may be delivered from that spirit of evil, of which you spoke just now. For this I pray night and morning on my knees; but even that I may be able to pray for you, I must keep myself pure; if the voice that supplicates for mercy is to rise to God’s throne, it must be an innocent one; above all, I must scrupulously keep the oath which I swore at His altar.’ On hearing these decisive words from Agnelette, Thibault again became fierce and morose. ” Thibault then tries threatening her with his power and notes there is no one to save her from him. She reminds him she is not afraid of him. His tries to convince her by saying, “you cannot think what the devil is whispering to me [que le démon me souffle à l’oreille], and what an effort I have to make to resist his voice.” And even though Engoulevent is far away, Thibault threatens him too: “thanks to the diabolical power [pouvoir infernal] I possess and which I can hardly fight against, I am able to strike as well far as near.” She says that if he kills Englouvant, she would not want to marry such a murderous man as him. Thibault then falls on his knees, begging her to “save me from committing a further crime.” She answers, “It is you, not I, who will be responsible for the crime. I can give you my life, Thibault, but not my honour.” This angers Thibault. He says without her love, he will act on his evil influences and impulses, and he threatens her husband and also reminds her of her good influence over himself: “Agnelette! take heed to your husband! The devil [Le démon] is in me, and he will soon speak through my mouth. Instead of the consolation which I had hoped from your love, and which your love refuses, I will have vengeance. Stay my hand, Agnelette, there is yet time, stay it from cursing, from destroying; if not, understand that it is not I, but you, who strike him dead! Agnelette, you know now.... Agnelette, you do not stop me from speaking? Let it be so then, and let the curse [maudits] fall on all three of us, you and him and me! Agnelette, I wish your husband to die, and he will die!” She replies that “my prayers will prevail against your maledictions [malédictions].” Thibault says her prayers may not work, and she better hurry to protect her husband, whom she might find dead. “Overcome by the tone of conviction with which these last words were pronounced, and yielding to an irresistible feeling of terror, Agnelette, without responding to Thibault, who stood on the further side of the lane with his hand held out and pointing towards Préciamont, set off running in the direction which it seemed to indicate, and soon disappeared into the night as she turned out of sight at the corner of the road. As she passed from his view, Thibault uttered a howl, which might have been taken for the howling of a whole pack of wolves, and plunging into the thicket, ‘Ah! now,’ he cried aloud to himself, ‘I am indeed a lost and accursed soul! [maintenant je suis bien véritablement maudit !]’.”
[Thibault’s Assessment of His Hut Destruction and Resolve to Gain Vengeance on Vez]
[Thibault’s Rampage; Vez’s Hunt]
[Thibault’s Encounter with Agnelette]
Summary
[Thibault’s Assessment of His Hut Destruction and Resolve to Gain Vengeance on Vez]
[(Recall from section 20 that Thibault the sorcerer had escaped capture by the gendarmes when his wolves came and chased them away.) Thibault returns to the remains of his burnt down hut (see section 19.1). “A heap of smoking cinders alone marked the place where it had stood; and as Thibault came in sight of it, he saw the wolves, as if he had appointed them to meet him there, forming an immense circle round the ruins, and looking upon them with an expression of mournful anger. They seemed to understand that by destroying this poor hut, made of earth and branches, the one who, by the compact with the black wolf, had been given them for master, had been made a victim. As Thibault entered the circle, all the wolves gave simultaneously a long and sinister sounding howl, as if to make him understand that they were ready to help in avenging him.” He takes a minute to think, “But he was not reflecting that the ruin which he saw around him was the consequence and the punishment of his jealous and covetous desires, which had gone on gathering strength. He felt neither repentance nor regret. That which dominated all other feeling in him was his satisfaction at the thought of being henceforth able to render to his fellow-creatures evil for evil, his pride in having, thanks to his terrible auxiliaries, the power to fight against those who persecuted him.” He thus calls for revenge on the Baron of Vez, who caused this destruction: “Come then, let us go from this hut to the Castle, and carry thither the desolation which they have brought home to me.”]
[ditto]
Le lendemain, vers neuf heures du soir, un homme s’acheminait vers la laie des Osières par la route du Puits-Sarrasin.
C’était Thibault, qui voulait rendre une dernière visite à sa chaumière et savoir si l’incendie en avait laissé subsister quelques débris.
Un monceau de cendres fumantes marquait la place où elle avait été.
Comme si Thibault leur eût donné rendez-vous en cet endroit, des loups formaient un vaste cercle autour de ces ruines, qu’ils contemplaient avec une morne expression de fureur ; ils semblaient comprendre qu’en détruisant cette pauvre cabane, faite de branches et de terre, on s’était attaqué à celui que le pacte fait avec le loup noir leur avait donné pour maître.
Lorsque Thibault entra dans le cercle, tous les loups poussèrent en même temps un long et sinistre hurlement, comme s’ils eussent voulu lui faire comprendre qu’ils étaient prêts à seconder sa vengeance.
Thibault alla s’asseoir à la place où avait été le foyer.
On reconnaissait cette place à quelques pierres noircies, mais intactes, et aux cendres qui étaient plus hautes en cet endroit.
Il y resta quelques minutes, absorbé dans une douloureuse contemplation.
Il ne réfléchit pas que le désastre qu’il avait sous les yeux était la conséquence et le châtiment de ses désirs envieux, toujours croissants et grandissants. Il ne ressentit ni repentir ni regret. La satisfaction qu’il éprouvait de se voir désormais en mesure de rendre aux hommes le mal pour le mal, l’orgueil de pouvoir lutter, grâce à ses terribles auxiliaires, avec ceux qui le persécutaient, dominèrent en lui tout autre sentiment.
Et, comme les loups hurlaient lamentablement :
– Oui, mes amis, dit Thibault, oui, vos hurlements s’accordent avec le cri de mon cœur… Les hommes ont détruit ma chaumière, ils ont jeté au vent la cendre des outils avec lesquels je gagnais mon pain ; leur haine me poursuit comme vous ; je n’ai à attendre d’eux ni merci ni miséricorde. Nous sommes leurs ennemis comme ils sont les nôtres : je n’aurai pour eux ni merci ni compassion. Venez donc, et, de la chaumière au château, reportons chez eux la désolation qu’ils ont apportée chez moi.
(267-269)
THE next evening, about nine o’clock, a man might be seen walking along the Puits-Sarrasin road and making for the Osiéres forest-path.
It was Thibault, on his way to pay a last visit to the hut, and to see if any remains of it had been left by the fire. A heap of smoking cinders alone marked the place where it had stood; and as Thibault came in sight of it, he saw the wolves, as if he had appointed them to meet him there, forming an immense circle round the ruins, and looking upon them with an expression of mournful anger. They seemed to understand that by destroying this poor hut, made of earth and branches, the one who, by the compact with the black wolf, had been given them for master, had been made a victim. As Thibault entered the circle, all the wolves gave simultaneously a long and sinister sounding howl, as if to make him understand that they were ready to help in avenging him.
Thibault went and sat down on the spot where the hearth had stood; it was recognisable from a few blackened stones still remaining, which were otherwise uninjured, and by a higher heap of cinders just at that spot. He stayed there some minutes, absorbed in his unhappy thoughts. But he was not reflecting that the ruin which he saw around him was the consequence and the punishment of his jealous and covetous desires, which had gone on gathering strength. He felt neither repentance nor regret. That which dominated all other feeling in him was his satisfaction at the thought of being henceforth able to render to his fellow-creatures evil for evil, his pride in having, thanks to his terrible auxiliaries, the power to fight against those who persecuted him.
And as the wolves continued their melancholy howling: “Yes, my friends,” said Thibault, “yes, your howls answer to the cry of my heart.... My fellow-creatures have destroyed my hut, they have cast to the winds the ashes of the tools wherewith I earned my daily bread; their hatred pursues me as it pursues you, I expect from them neither mercy nor pity. We are their enemies as they are ours; and I will have neither mercy nor compassion on them. Come then, let us go from this hut to the Castle, and carry thither the desolation which they have brought home to me.”
(99)
[Thibault’s Rampage; Vez’s Hunt]
[Thibault and his pack of wolves head toward the Château of Vez, leaving a path of destruction. The first night they kill off the animals on the farms of the Vez estate. Vez sees a mixture of human and animal behind the carnage: “The Baron was doubtful at first if this could be the work of the beasts against which he waged so fierce a warfare; there seemed something partaking rather of intelligence and revenge in it than of the mere unreasoning attacks of a pack of wild animals.” The next two nights Thibault and his wolves decimate the parks and stables of Soucy, Vivierès, Boursonnes, and Yvors. Thibault and his wolves have reached a high degree of what Deleuze & Guattari call “becoming-animal”: “The work of annihilation, once begun, must be carried out with desperate determination, and the master never left his wolves now; he slept with them in their dens, and lived in the midst of them, stimulating their thirst for blood. Many a woodman, many a heath-gatherer, came face to face in the thickets with the menacing white teeth of a wolf, and was either carried off and eaten, or just saved his life by the aid of his courage and his bill-hook. Guided by a human intelligence, the wolves had become organised and disciplined, and were far more formidable than a band of discontented soldiery let loose in a conquered country.” The people of the region become terrorized. “The Bishop of Soissons ordered public prayer to be made, asking God to send a thaw, for the unusual ferocity of the wolves was attributed to the great quantity of snow that had fallen. But the report also went about that the wolves were incited to their work, and led about by a man; that this man was more indefatigable, more cruel and insatiable than the wolves themselves; that in imitation of his companions he ate raw flesh and quenched his thirst in blood.” The Priest excommunicates Thibault, and Vez wants to hunt him down: “He was somewhat cast down at so much blood being spilt, and his pride was sorely hurt that his, the Grand Master’s, own cattle should have suffered so heavily from the very wolves he was especially appointed to destroy.” Vez is especially excited for the glory of this particular hunt for Thibault and his wolves. But despite the best efforts of Vez’s able hunting team, they could only catch the weaker wolves that pose no threat anyway, while “the larger, well-grown wolves, with their thick dark coats, their muscles like steel springs and their long slender feet—not one of these lost a hair in the war that was being made upon them. Thanks to Thibault they met their enemies in arms on nearly equal ground.” Even Vez undergoes some becoming-animal, “As the Baron of Vez remained for ever with his dogs, so did Thibault with his wolves.” The wolves use clever techniques to throw the dogs off their scent and to further confuse Vez’s expert tracking judgement. (Englouvant, by the way, has taken Marcotte’s place as chief pricker.) With time, Vez’s hounds are decimated by the wolf pack, and “The stable was in no better condition than the kennel.” Baron Vez changes tactics and tries using battue beating, but Thibault simply goes to places where the beaters are not working. The hunt goes on for several months. “Both the Baron and Thibault carried out the task each had set before himself, with equally passionate energy; the latter, like his adversary, seemed to have required some supernatural power, whereby he was able to resist fatigue and excitement; and this was the more remarkable seeing that during the short intervals of respite accorded by the Lord of Vez, the Wolf-leader was by no means at peace in himself.” However sometimes Thibault becomes gloomy when thinking about Agnelette, because “he felt he loved her more than he had ever thought it possible for him to love anybody. At times he would weep at the thought of all his lost happiness, at others he was seized with a wild fit of jealousy against the one to whom she now belonged,—she, who at one time, might if he had liked, have been his.”]
[ditto]
Et alors, comme un chef de condottieri suivi de ses routiers, le meneur de loups, suivi de toute sa bande, se mit en quête de désolation et de carnage.
Cette fois, ce n’étaient plus les cerfs, les daims, les chevreuils et le gibier timide qu’il s’agissait de poursuivre.
Protégé par les ténèbres de la nuit, Thibault s’approcha d’abord du château de Vez, car là était son principal ennemi.
Le baron avait trois fermes dépendantes du château, des écuries remplies de chevaux, des étables remplies de vaches, des parcs remplis de moutons.
Dès la première nuit, tout fut attaqué.
Le lendemain, deux chevaux étaient étranglés dans les écuries, quatre vaches dans l’étable, dix moutons dans les parcs.
Le baron douta un instant que le désastre vînt d’animaux auxquels il livrait une si terrible guerre ; cela avait l’air, non pas de l’agression brutale d’une horde de bêtes fauves, mais de représailles intelligentes.
Cependant, à la trace des dents sur les blessures, aux vestiges des pattes sur la terre, il fallut bien reconnaître que de simples loups étaient auteurs de la catastrophe.
Le lendemain, on s’embusqua.
Mais Thibault et ses loups étaient du côté opposé de la forêt.
Ce furent les écuries, les étables et les parcs de Soucy et de Viviers qui furent décimés.
Le surlendemain, ce furent Boursonnes et Yvors.
L’œuvre de destruction, une fois commencée, devait se poursuivre avec acharnement.
Le meneur de loups ne quittait plus ses loups ; il dormait dans leurs tanières ; il vivait au milieu d’eux, stimulant leur soif de sang et de meurtres.
Plus d’une faiseuse de bois, plus d’un ramasseur de bruyères, rencontrant dans un hallier la gueule menaçante d’un loup aux dents blanches et aiguës, ou fut emporté et dévoré par lui, ou, ne dut son salut qu’à son courage et à sa bonne serpe.
Secondés par l’intelligence humaine, les loups étaient devenus, par leur organisation et leur discipline, plus redoutables que ne l’eût été une bande de lansquenets abattus en pays conquis.
La terreur était générale ; nul n’osait plus sortir des villes ou des villages autrement qu’armé ; on nourrissait les bestiaux dans les étables, et les hommes eux-mêmes, lorsqu’ils sortaient, s’attendaient les uns les autres, afin de ne sortir que par troupes.
L’évêque de Soissons ordonna des prières publiques pour demander à Dieu le dégel et la fonte des neiges, car c’était à la quantité de neige qui était tombée que l’on attribuait cette férocité inaccoutumée des loups.
On disait bien que ces loups étaient excités, conduits, menés par un homme ; que cet homme était plus infatigable, plus cruel, plus inexorable que les loups eux-mêmes ; qu’à l’instar de ses compagnons, il vivait de chairs palpitantes et se désaltérait dans le sang.
Le peuple désignait, nommait Thibault.
L’évêque lança contre l’ancien sabotier un édit d’excommunication.
Quand au seigneur Jean, il prétendait que les foudres de l’Église ne prévaudraient contre les malins esprits qu’autant qu’elles viendraient après des laisser-courre habilement conduits.
Il était bien un peu triste de tant de sang répandu, un peu humilié de ce que ses bestiaux à lui, grand louvetier, étaient tout particulièrement décimés par les animaux qu’il était chargé de détruire ; mais, au fond de tout cela, il ne songeait point sans une secrète joie aux triomphants hallalis qui lui étaient réservés, à la célébrité qu’il ne pouvait manquer d’acquérir entre tous les veneurs fameux. Sa passion pour la chasse, s’exaltant dans cette lutte que ses adversaires semblaient avoir si franchement acceptée, devint quelque chose de gigantesque ; il ne s’accordait ni trêve ni repos ; il ne dormait pas ; il mangeait sans quitter la selle ; pendant la nuit, il battait la campagne en compagnie de l’Éveillé, d’Engoulevent, élevé au rang de piqueur en considération de son mariage ; dès l’aube, il était à cheval, il attaquait un loup et le chassait jusqu’à ce qu’il ne fît plus assez jour pour distinguer ses chiens.
Mais, hélas ! toute sa science en vénerie, tout son courage, toute sa persévérance, le seigneur Jean les dépensa en pure perte.
Il porta bas par-ci par-là quelque méchant louvart, quelque maigre bête rongée de gale, quelque glouton imprudent qui avait commis la maladresse de se gorger de carnage au point de perdre haleine après deux ou trois heures de course ; mais les grands loups au pelage fauve, au ventre harpé, au jarret d’acier, à la patte longue et sèche, ceux-là ne perdirent pas un poil dans cette guerre.
Grâce à Thibault, ils luttaient avec leurs adversaires à armes à peu près égales.
Comme le seigneur Jean demeurait éternellement avec ses chiens, le meneur ne quittait pas ses loups ; après une nuit de sac et de pillage, il tenait la bande éveillée et prête à porter secours à celui que le seigneur Jean avait détourné ; celui-ci, suivant les instructions du sabotier, commençait par lutter de ruse ; il doublait, il croisait ses voies, il suivait les ruisseaux, il sautait sur les arbres inclinés de façon à doubler la besogne des hommes et des chiens ; enfin, lorsqu’il sentait ses forces diminuer, il prenait un grand parti et se forlongeait. La troupe de loups et son meneur intervenaient alors : au moindre balancer, il se donnait un change si adroitement combiné, qu’à des signes imperceptibles on pouvait seulement juger que les chiens ne suivaient plus l’animal en meute, et qu’il ne fallait pas moins que la profonde expérience du seigneur Jean pour en décider.
Et encore parfois se trompait-il.
En outre, comme nous l’avons dit, les loups suivaient les chasseurs : c’était une meute qui en chassait une autre.
Seulement, celle-là, chassant à la muette, était infiniment plus redoutable que la première.
Un chien fatigué restait-il en arrière, un autre, en bricolant, s’écartait-il du gros de l’équipage, il était à l’instant même étranglé, et le piqueur qui avait remplacé le pauvre Marcotte, maître Engoulevent, que nous avons déjà eu l’occasion de nommer plusieurs fois, étant un jour accouru au cri de détresse que poussait l’un de ses chiens, fut assailli lui-même et ne dut son salut qu’à la vitesse de son cheval.
En peu de temps, la meute du seigneur Jean fut décimée ; ses meilleurs chiens étaient crevés de fatigue, les médiocres avaient péri sous la dent des loups. L’écurie n’était point en meilleur état que le chenil : Bayard était fourbu, Tancrède s’était donné une nerf-férure en sautant un fossé, un effort de boulet reléguait Valeureux aux invalides ; plus heureux que ses trois compagnons, Sultan était mort au champ d’honneur, écrasé par une course de seize heures et par le poids du géant son maître, dont le courage n’était point abattu par des revers qui cependant amoncelaient autour de lui les cadavres de ses plus nobles et de ses plus fidèles serviteurs.
Le seigneur Jean, comme ces généreux Romains qui épuisaient contre les Carthaginois toujours renaissants toutes les ressources de l’art militaire, le seigneur Jean changea de tactique, et essaya des battues. Il convoqua le ban et l’arrière-ban des paysans et traqua les bois en nombre formidable, de manière à ne pas laisser un lièvre au gîte à l’endroit où les traqueurs avaient passé.
Mais c’était l’affaire de Thibault de prévoir ces traques et de deviner les endroits où elles devaient avoir lieu.
Traquait-on du côté de Viviers ou de Soucy, les loups et leur meneur faisaient une excursion sur Boursonnes ou Yvors.
Traquait-on du côté d’Haramont ou de Longpré, on avait connaissance d’eux à Corcy et à Vertefeuille.
Le seigneur Jean avait beau se rendre de nuit aux triages indiqués, les cerner dans le plus grand silence, les attaquer au point du jour, jamais les traqueurs ne purent débusquer un seul loup de son liteau.
Pas une seule fois la surveillance de Thibault ne fut mise en défaut.
Avait-il mal entendu, avait-il mal compris, ignorait-il l’endroit de l’attaque, par des courriers expédiés au commencement de la nuit, il rassemblait tous les loups sur un point ; puis, avec eux, passait sans être vu par la laie de Lisart-l’Abbesse, qui réunit ou plutôt qui, à cette époque, réunissait la forêt de Compiègne à la forêt de Villers-Cotterêts ; il passait d’une forêt à l’autre.
Cela dura ainsi pendant plusieurs mois.
Comme faisait le baron Jean de son côté, Thibault poursuivait du sien la tâche qu’il s’était donnée avec une énergie passionnée ; comme son adversaire, il semblait avoir acquis des forces surnaturelles pour résister à tant de fatigues et d’émotions ; et cela était d’autant plus remarquable que, dans les courts instants de répit que le baron de Vez laissait au meneur de loups, l’âme de ce dernier était bien loin d’être tranquille.
Les actions qu’il commettait, celles auxquelles il présidait, ne lui faisaient pas précisément horreur ; elles lui semblaient naturelles ; il en rejetait les conséquences sur ceux qui l’y avaient poussé, disait-il.
Cependant il avait des moments de défaillance dont il ne pouvait se rendre compte et pendant lesquels il demeurait triste, morose, abattu au milieu de ses féroces compagnons.
Alors, l’image d’Agnelette lui apparaissait, et tout son passé d’ouvrier honnête et laborieux, de vie paisible et innocente, se personnifiait dans cette douce figure.
Aussi l’aimait-il comme il n’aurait jamais pensé qu’il fût possible d’aimer personne. Tantôt il pleurait avec désespoir sur tant de bonheur perdu, tantôt il était pris d’accès de jalousie féroce contre celui qui possédait à cette heure ce qu’il n’avait tenu qu’à lui, Thibault, de posséder autrefois.
(269-274)
And then the master of the wolves, like a chief of banditti followed by his desperadoes, set off with his pack in quest of pillage and carnage.
This time it was neither red-deer, nor fallow-deer, nor any timid game of which they were in pursuit. Sheltered by the darkness of the night Thibault first directed his course to the Château of Vez, for there was lodged his chief enemy. The Baron had three farms belonging to the estate, stables filled with horses, and others filled with cows, and the park was full of sheep. All these places were attacked the first night, and on the morrow two horses, four cows, and ten sheep were found killed.
The Baron was doubtful at first if this could be the work of the beasts against which he waged so fierce a warfare; there seemed something partaking rather of intelligence and revenge in it than of the mere unreasoning attacks of a pack of wild animals. Still it seemed manifest that the wolves must have been the aggressors, judging by the marks of teeth on the carcases and the footprints left on the ground. Next night the Baron set watchers to lie in wait, but Thibault and his wolves were at work on the farther side of the forest. This time it was the stables and parks of Soucy and of Vivierès which were decimated, and the following night those of Boursonnes and Yvors. The work of annihilation, once begun, must be carried out with desperate determination, and the master never left his wolves now; he slept with them in their dens, and lived in the midst of them, stimulating their thirst for blood.
Many a woodman, many a heath-gatherer, came face to face in the thickets with the menacing white teeth of a wolf, and was either carried off and eaten, or just saved his life by the aid of his courage and his bill-hook. Guided by a human intelligence, the wolves had become organised and disciplined, and were far more formidable than a band of discontented soldiery let loose in a conquered country.
The terror of them became general; no one dared go beyond the towns and villages unarmed; horses and cattle were all fed inside the stables, and the men themselves, their work done, waited for one another, so as not to go about singly. The Bishop of Soissons ordered public prayer to be made, asking God to send a thaw, for the unusual ferocity of the wolves was attributed to the great quantity of snow that had fallen. But the report also went about that the wolves were incited to their work, and led about by a man; that this man was more indefatigable, more cruel and insatiable than the wolves themselves; that in imitation of his companions he ate raw flesh and quenched his thirst in blood. And the people went further and said that this man was Thibault.
The Bishop pronounced sentence of excommunication against the former shoe-maker. The Lord of Vez, however, had little faith in the thunders of the Church being of much effect, unless supported by some well-conducted hunting. He was somewhat cast down at so much blood being spilt, and his pride was sorely hurt that his, the Grand Master’s, own cattle should have suffered so heavily from the very wolves he was especially appointed to destroy.
At the same time, he could not but feel a secret delight, at the thought of the triumphant view-halloos in store for him, and of the fame which he could not fail to win among all sportsmen of repute. His passion for the chase, excited by the way in which his adversaries the wolves had so openly entered upon the struggle, became absolutely overpowering; he allowed neither respite nor repose; he took no sleep himself and ate his meals in the saddle. All night long he scoured the country in company with l’Eveillé and Engoulevent, who, in consideration of his marriage had been raised to the rank of pricker; and the dawn had no sooner appeared before he was again in the saddle, ready to start and chase the wolf until it was too dark to distinguish the hounds. But alas! all his knowledge of the art of Venery, all his courage, all his perseverance, were lost labour. He occasionally brought down some wretched cub, some miserable beast eaten with mange, some imprudent glutton which had so gorged itself with carnage that its breath would not hold out after an hour or two’s run; but the larger, well-grown wolves, with their thick dark coats, their muscles like steel springs and their long slender feet—not one of these lost a hair in the war that was being made upon them. Thanks to Thibault they met their enemies in arms on nearly equal ground.
As the Baron of Vez remained for ever with his dogs, so did Thibault with his wolves; after a night of sack and pillage, he kept the pack awake on the watch to help the one that the Baron had started. This wolf again, following Thibault’s instructions, had recourse at first to stratagem. It doubled, crossed its tracks, waded in the streams, leaped up into the bending trees so as to make it more difficult still for huntsmen and hounds to follow the scent, and finally when it felt its powers failing, it adopted bolder measures and went straight ahead. Then the other wolves and their master intervened; at the least sign of hesitation on the part of the hounds, they managed so cleverly to put them on the wrong scent, that it required an experienced eye to detect that the dogs were not all following up the same track, and nothing less than the Baron’s profound knowledge could decide which was the right one. Even he sometimes was mistaken.
Again, the wolves in their turn followed the huntsmen; it was a pack hunting a pack; only the one hunted in silence, which made it far the more formidable of the two. Did a tired hound fall behind, or another get separated from the main body, it was seized and killed in an instant, and Engoulevent, whom we have had occasion to mention several times before and who had taken poor Marcotte’s place, having hastened one day to the help of one of his hounds that was uttering cries of distress, was himself attacked and only owed his life to the swiftness of his horse.
It was not long before the Baron’s pack was decimated; his best hounds were nearly dead with fatigue, and his more second-rate ones had perished by the wolves’ teeth. The stable was in no better condition than the kennel; Bayard was foundered, Tancred had sprained a tendon leaping over a ditch, and a strained fetlock had placed Valourous on the list of invalids. Sultan, luckier than his three companions had fallen honourably on the field of battle, having succumbed to a sixteen hours’ run under the weight of his gigantic master, who never for a moment lost courage notwithstanding the fact that the dead bodies of his finest and most faithful servitors lay heaped around him.
The Baron, following the example of the noble-hearted Romans who exhausted the resources of military art against the Carthaginians who were for ever re-appearing as enemies, the Baron, I repeat, changed his tactics and tried what battues could accomplish. He called on all available men among the peasants, and beat up the game throughout the forest with such a formidable number of men, that not so much as a hare was left in its form near any spot which they had passed.
But Thibault made it his business to find out beforehand where these battues were going to take place, and if he ascertained that the beaters were on the side of the forest towards Viviers or Soucy, he and his wolves made an excursion to Boursonnes or Yvors; and if the Baron and his men were busy near Haramont or Longpré, the people of Corcy and Vertefeuille were made painfully aware of Thibault and his wolves.
In vain the Lord of Vez drew his cordon at night round the suspected enclosures, so as to begin the attack with daylight; never once did his men succeed in starting a wolf, for not once did Thibault make a mistake in his calculations. If by chance he had not been well informed, and was uncertain in what direction the Baron and his men were going, he called all his wolves together, sending express couriers after them as the night set in; he then led them unobserved down the wooded lane leading to Lessart-l’Abbesse, which at that time ran between the forest of Compiègne and the forest of Villers-Cotterets, and so was able to pass from one to the other. This state of things went on for several months. Both the Baron and Thibault carried out the task each had set before himself, with equally passionate energy; the latter, like his adversary, seemed to have required some supernatural power, whereby he was able to resist fatigue and excitement; and this was the more remarkable seeing that during the short intervals of respite accorded by the Lord of Vez, the Wolf-leader was by no means at peace in himself.
It was not that the terrible deeds in which he was an active agent, and at which he presided, filled him exactly with horror, for he thought them justifiable; he threw the responsibility of them, he said, on to those who had forced him to commit them; but there were moments of failing spirit, for which he could not account, when he went about in the midst of his ferocious companions, feeling gloomy, morose and heavy hearted. Again the image of Agnelette would rise before him, seeming to him like the personification of his own past life, honest and laborious, peaceful and innocent. And more than that, he felt he loved her more than he had ever thought it possible for him to love anybody. At times he would weep at the thought of all his lost happiness, at others he was seized with a wild fit of jealousy against the one to whom she now belonged,—she, who at one time, might if he had liked, have been his.
(99-101)
[Thibault’s Encounter with Agnelette]
[One day the Baron was busy making preparations and so was not hounding Thibault and the wolves for a while. Thibault was in a gloomy mood from thinking about Agnelette, and he “wandered forth from the den where he lived in company with the wolves.” He reflects on his earlier, simpler, and happier life before his pact with the devil. He has wandered near the place he first saw Agnelette, and he hears a cry of distress, which he runs toward. There “he saw a woman struggling with an immense wolf which had thrown her on the ground. Thibault could not have said why he was so agitated at this sight, nor why his heart beat more violently than usual; he rushed forward and seizing the animal by the throat hurled it away from its victim, and then lifting the woman in his arms, he carried her to the side of the lane and laid her on the slope. Here a ray of moonlight, breaking through the clouds, fell on the face of the woman he had saved, and Thibault saw that it was Agnelette.” She is terrified upon seeing it is Thibault. She pleads with him not to kill her, for the sake of her grandmother. “The Wolf-leader stood overcome with consternation; up to this hour he had not fully realised the hideous renown which he had gained; but the terror which the sight of him inspired in the woman who had loved him and whom he still loved, filled him with a horror of himself.” To explain why he went astray in his life, he confesses his love for her: “you do not understand that I loved you—that I adored you Agnelette, and that the loss of you sent me out of my mind?” She asks what prevented him from marrying her, and he says, “The spirit of evil [L’esprit du mal].” Agnelette confesses that she loved him too “and I suffered cruelly waiting for you.” She says that she is not allowed to love Thibault anymore (because she is now married to Engoulevent, see section 14.2), but she can never forget her first love, Thibault. She also says she is not to blame for having been afraid of Thibault’s ring (which was exchanged as a token of his pact with the Wolf-Devil, see section 5.1, and which refused to leave Thibault and be given to Agnelette, see section 6.2.) Thibault now tries to remove the ring to satisfy Agnelette, but even with his best efforts it will not come off his finger: “In vain he struggled with it, and tried to move it with his teeth; the ring seemed rivetted to his finger for all eternity. Thibault saw that it was no use trying to get rid of it; it was a token of compact between himself and the black wolf [c’était le gage du pacte passé entre lui et le loup noir].” Agnelette then observes “Thibault’s hair. Thibault was bare-headed, and, by the light of the moon Agnelette could see that it was no longer a single hair that shone red as the flames of hell [flammes de l’enfer], but that half the hair on Thibault’s head was now of this devil’s colour [la teinte diabolique].” She is alarmed and asked what has happened to him. Thibault falls crying, saying she would be the only one he could possibly confess to, and asks if she truly loved him. She says she used to wait for him to come to the door to announce his love of her to her grandmother, and whenever someone came that was not he, she would take to the corner and cry from disappointment. She explains that she moved out of their house at Vez because there was no room there for her grandmother, so she moved back in with her. He wants her to confess her love to him, despite her current marriage, and he promises her great things with his last wishes: “you do not know my power. I know that I have only a wish or two left, but with your help, by combining these wishes together, I could make you as rich as a queen.... We could leave the country, leave France, Europe; there are large countries, of which you do not even know the names, Agnelette, called America and India. They are paradises, with blue skies, tall trees and birds of every kind. Agnelette, say that you will come with me; nobody will know that we have gone off together, nobody will know where we are, nobody will know that we love one another, nobody will know even that we are alive.” He continues to try to convince her to run off with him, which he says will result in him being saved and potentially being restored to his previous, modest life: “I am going to speak to you in the name of this world and the next. Do you wish to save me, Agnelette, body and soul? If so, do not resist my pleading, have pity on me, come with me; let us go somewhere together, where we shall no longer hear these howlings, or breathe this atmosphere of reeking flesh; and, if it scares you to think of being a rich, grand lady, somewhere then where I can again be Thibault the workman, Thibault, poor but beloved, and, therefore, Thibault happy in his hard work, some place where Agnelette will have no other husband but me.” She says she cannot betray Engoulevent, because he has sacrificed and pledged himself to her. She will not say that she loves Thibault or that she does not love Engoulevent, but she is a committed friend to him, and she prays for his salvation: “‘I should like to see you happy, my friend; above all I should like to see you abjure your evil ways and repent of your sins; and last of all, I wish that God may have mercy upon you, and that you may be delivered from that spirit of evil, of which you spoke just now. For this I pray night and morning on my knees; but even that I may be able to pray for you, I must keep myself pure; if the voice that supplicates for mercy is to rise to God’s throne, it must be an innocent one; above all, I must scrupulously keep the oath which I swore at His altar.’ On hearing these decisive words from Agnelette, Thibault again became fierce and morose. ” Thibault then tries threatening her with his power and notes there is no one to save her from him. She reminds him she is not afraid of him. His tries to convince her by saying, “you cannot think what the devil is whispering to me [que le démon me souffle à l’oreille], and what an effort I have to make to resist his voice.” And even though Engoulevent is far away, Thibault threatens him too: “thanks to the diabolical power [pouvoir infernal] I possess and which I can hardly fight against, I am able to strike as well far as near.” She says that if he kills Englouvant, she would not want to marry such a murderous man as him. Thibault then falls on his knees, begging her to “save me from committing a further crime.” She answers, “It is you, not I, who will be responsible for the crime. I can give you my life, Thibault, but not my honour.” This angers Thibault. He says without her love, he will act on his evil influences and impulses, and he threatens her husband and also reminds her of her good influence over himself: “Agnelette! take heed to your husband! The devil [Le démon] is in me, and he will soon speak through my mouth. Instead of the consolation which I had hoped from your love, and which your love refuses, I will have vengeance. Stay my hand, Agnelette, there is yet time, stay it from cursing, from destroying; if not, understand that it is not I, but you, who strike him dead! Agnelette, you know now.... Agnelette, you do not stop me from speaking? Let it be so then, and let the curse [maudits] fall on all three of us, you and him and me! Agnelette, I wish your husband to die, and he will die!” She replies that “my prayers will prevail against your maledictions [malédictions].” Thibault says her prayers may not work, and she better hurry to protect her husband, whom she might find dead. “Overcome by the tone of conviction with which these last words were pronounced, and yielding to an irresistible feeling of terror, Agnelette, without responding to Thibault, who stood on the further side of the lane with his hand held out and pointing towards Préciamont, set off running in the direction which it seemed to indicate, and soon disappeared into the night as she turned out of sight at the corner of the road. As she passed from his view, Thibault uttered a howl, which might have been taken for the howling of a whole pack of wolves, and plunging into the thicket, ‘Ah! now,’ he cried aloud to himself, ‘I am indeed a lost and accursed soul! [maintenant je suis bien véritablement maudit !]’.”]
[ditto]
Un jour que le seigneur Jean, pour préparer de nouvelles combinaisons de destruction, avait été forcé de laisser les loups tranquilles, Thibault, qui se trouvait dans les dispositions d’esprit que nous venons de dire, sortit de la tanière où il vivait pêle-mêle avec les loups.
C’était par une splendide nuit d’été.
Il se mit à errer dans les futaies, dont la lune argentait les cimes, et à rêver au temps où il parcourait les beaux tapis de mousse, l’esprit exempt de soucis et d’inquiétude.
Alors il arriva au seul bonheur qu’il lui fût permis d’atteindre : il arriva à oublier.
Il était plongé dans ce doux rêve de son premier passé, lorsque, tout à coup, à cent pas de lui, il entendit un cri de détresse.
Il s’était si fort habitué à ces sortes de cris, que, dans toute autre occasion, il y eût fait peu d’attention.
Mais, en ce moment, le souvenir d’Agnelette lui attendrissait le cœur et le disposait à la pitié.
Cela était d’autant plus naturel que Thibault était aux environs de l’endroit où il avait vu pour la première fois la douce enfant.
Il courut donc à l’endroit d’où était parti ce cri, et, en sautant du taillis dans la laie de la queue de Ham, il aperçut une femme qui se débattait, terrassée par un loup monstrueux.
Sans qu’il se rendît compte de l’émotion qu’il éprouvait, le cœur de Thibault battait plus fort que de coutume.
Il saisit lui-même l’animal à la gorge et le jeta à dix pas de la victime ; puis, prenant la femme entre ses bras, il la porta sur le talus du fossé.
Alors, un rayon de la lune, glissant entre deux nuages, éclaira le visage de celle qu’il venait d’arracher à la mort.
Thibault reconnut Agnelette.
Thibault connaissait, à dix pas de là, une source, celle où la première fois il s’était regardé et avait aperçu un cheveu rouge.
Il y courut, puisa de l’eau dans ses deux mains, et jeta cette eau au visage de la jeune femme.
Agnelette ouvrit les yeux, poussa un cri d’angoisse et essaya de se retirer et de fuir.
– Eh quoi ! s’écria le meneur de loups, comme s’il était toujours Thibault le sabotier, vous ne me reconnaissez pas, Agnelette ?
– Ah ! si, je vous reconnais, Thibault ; je vous reconnais, s’écria la jeune femme, et c’est pour cela que j’ai peur !
Alors, se mettant à genoux et joignant les mains :
– Ne me tuez pas, Thibault ! Ne me tuez pas ! La vieille grand-mère aurait trop de chagrin ! Thibault, ne me tuez pas !
Le meneur de loups resta consterné.
À cette heure seulement, il comprenait l’effroyable renommée qu’il s’était acquise, et cela par la terreur que sa vue inspirait à la femme qui l’avait aimé et que lui aimait toujours.
Il eut un moment d’horreur pour lui-même.
– Moi, vous tuer, Agnelette ! dit-il, lorsque je veux vous arracher à la mort ! Oh ! il faut que vous ayez une bien grande haine contre moi pour qu’une pareille pensée vous soit venue.
– Je ne vous hais pas, Thibault, répondit la jeune femme ; mais on dit tant de choses de vous dans la plaine, que vous me faites peur.
– Et parle-t-on de celle dont la trahison a amené Thibault à commettre tous ces crimes ?
– Je ne vous comprends pas, dit Agnelette en regardant Thibault avec ses grands yeux couleur de ciel.
– Comment ! dit Thibault, vous ne comprenez pas que je vous aimais… que je vous adorais, Agnelette, et que votre perte m’a rendu fou ?
– Si vous m’aimiez, si vous m’adoriez, Thibault, qui donc vous a empêché de m’épouser ?
– L’esprit du mal, murmura Thibault.
– Moi, je vous aimais, continua la jeune femme, et j’ai cruellement souffert en vous attendant.
Thibault poussa un soupir.
– Vous m’aimiez, Agnelette ? dit-il.
– Oui, répondit la jeune femme avec sa douce voix et son charmant regard.
– Mais, maintenant, reprit Thibault, tout est fini et vous ne m’aimez plus ?
– Thibault, répondit Agnelette, je ne vous aime plus, parce que je ne dois plus vous aimer. Mais on ne chasse point comme on le voudrait sa première affection.
– Agnelette ! s’écria Thibault tout frissonnant, prenez garde à ce que vous allez dire !
– Pourquoi, dit l’enfant en secouant naïvement la tête, pourquoi prendrais-je garde à ce que je vais dire, puisque je ne dirai que la vérité ? Le jour où vous m’avez dit que vous vouliez me prendre pour femme, je vous ai cru, Thibault ; car à quoi vous eût servi de me mentir au moment où je venais de vous rendre un service ? Puis, plus tard, je vous ai rencontré, je ne vous cherchais pas ; vous êtes venu à moi, vous m’avez dit des paroles d’amour, vous m’avez reparlé le premier de la promesse que vous m’aviez faite. Ce n’est point encore ma faute, Thibault, si j’ai eu peur de cette bague que vous portiez au doigt et qui, assez grande pour vous, chose horrible ! s’est trouvée trop petite pour moi.
– Cette bague, dit Thibault, voulez-vous que je ne la porte plus ? Voulez-vous que je la jette ?
Et il essaya de la tirer de son doigt.
Mais, de même que la bague avait été trop petite pour entrer au doigt d’Agnelette, elle fut trop petite pour sortir du doigt de Thibault.
Il eut beau redoubler ses efforts, essayer de la faire sortir avec ses dents : la bague semblait rivée à son doigt pour l’éternité.
Thibault vit bien qu’il fallait renoncer à se séparer de cette bague, que c’était le gage du pacte passé entre lui et le loup noir.
Il laissa, en poussant un soupir, retomber ses bras près de lui avec découragement.
– Ce jour-là, continua Agnelette, je me suis sauvée ; je sais bien que j’ai eu tort, mais je n’ai pas été maîtresse de ma peur à la vue de cette bague et surtout…
Elle leva timidement ses yeux jusqu’au front de Thibault. Thibault était nu-tête, et, à la lueur de la lune, Agnelette put voir que ce n’était plus un cheveu qui semblait rougi aux flammes de l’enfer, mais la moitié de la chevelure du meneur de loups qui avait pris la teinte diabolique.
– Oh ! dit-elle en reculant, Thibault ! Thibault ! que vous est-il arrivé depuis que je ne vous ai vu ?
– Agnelette ! s’écria Thibault en appuyant son front sur la terre et en tenant sa tête à deux mains, ce qui m’est arrivé, je ne saurais le raconter à une créature humaine, pas même à un prêtre ; mais à vous, Agnelette, je dirai simplement ceci : Agnelette, Agnelette, ayez pitié de moi, car j’ai été bien malheureux !
Agnelette se rapprocha de Thibault et lui prit les mains.
– Vous m’aimiez donc ? vous m’aimiez donc ? s’écria Thibault.
– Que voulez-vous, Thibault ! reprit la jeune femme avec la même douceur et la même innocence ; j’avais pris votre dire au sérieux, et, chaque fois que l’on heurtait à la porte de notre cabane, mon cœur battait, parce que je pensais que c’était vous et que vous veniez pour dire à la vieille femme : « Mère, j’aime Agnelette ; Agnelette m’aime : voulez-vous me la donner pour femme ? » Puis, quand on avait ouvert, quand je voyais que ce n’était point vous, j’allais me cacher dans un coin et je pleurais.
– Et à présent, Agnelette, à présent ?
– À présent, dit la jeune femme, c’est singulier, Thibault, malgré tout ce que l’on raconte de terrible sur vous, je n’ai plus peur réellement ; car il me semble que vous ne pouvez point me vouloir de mal, et je traversais hardiment le bois, lorsque cette horrible bête, dont vous m’avez délivrée, s’est jetée sur moi.
– Mais comment étiez-vous du côté de votre ancienne demeure ? n’habitez-vous point avec votre mari ?
– C’est vrai, nous avons habité Vez quelque temps ; mais, à Vez, il n’y avait point de place pour la vieille mère aveugle. Alors, j’ai dit à mon mari : « La grand-mère avant tout ; je retourne près d’elle. Quand vous voudrez me voir, vous viendrez. »
– Et il a consenti ?
– Il ne voulait pas d’abord, mais je lui ai fait observer que la grand-mère a soixante-dix ans ; qu’en lui donnant deux ou trois ans à vivre encore, Dieu veuille que je me trompe ! c’étaient deux ou trois ans de gêne, voilà tout ; tandis que nous, selon toute probabilité, nous avions de longues années à vivre. Alors il a compris qu’il fallait donner à celui qui avait le moins.
Mais, au milieu de cette explication d’Agnelette, Thibault n’avait suivi qu’une seule pensée : c’est que l’amour qu’elle avait autrefois éprouvé pour lui n’était point éteint dans son cœur.
– Ainsi, dit Thibault, vous m’aimiez ? Ainsi, Agnelette, vous pourriez m’aimer encore ?…
– Mais non, c’est impossible, puisque j’appartiens à un autre.
– Agnelette ! Agnelette ! dites seulement que vous m’aimez !
– Mais, au contraire, si je vous aimais, je ferais tout au monde pour vous le cacher.
– Pourquoi ? s’écria Thibault, pourquoi donc ? Tu ne connais pas ma puissance. Je sais bien qu’il ne me reste peut-être plus qu’un ou deux souhaits à faire ; mais, aidé par toi, en combinant ces souhaits, je puis te faire riche comme une reine… Nous pouvons quitter le pays, la France, l’Europe ; il y a de grandes contrées que tu ne connais pas même de nom, Agnelette, qu’on appelle l’Amérique, qu’on appelle l’Inde. Ce sont des paradis, avec un ciel bleu, de grands arbres, des oiseaux de toute espèce. Agnelette, dis que tu veux me suivre ; personne ne saura que nous sommes partis ensemble, personne ne saura où nous sommes, personne ne saura que nous nous aimons, personne ne saura même que nous vivons.
– Fuir avec vous, Thibault ! dit Agnelette en regardant le meneur de loups comme si elle n’avait compris qu’à moitié ce qu’il lui disait ; mais ignorez-vous donc que je ne m’appartiens plus ? Ne savez-vous pas que je suis mariée ?
– Qu’importe, dit Thibault, si c’est moi que tu aimes et si nous pouvons vivre heureux !
– Oh ! Thibault ! Thibault ! que dites-vous !
– Écoute, reprit Thibault, je vais te parler au nom de ce monde et de l’autre. Veux-tu sauver à la fois et mon corps et mon âme, Agnelette ? Ne me résiste pas, aie pitié de moi, viens avec moi ; partons ! Allons quelque part où l’on n’entende plus ces hurlements, où l’on ne respire plus cette odeur de chair saignante ; et, si d’être riche et grande dame t’épouvante, quelque part où je puisse redevenir Thibault l’ouvrier, Thibault pauvre, mais Thibault aimé, et, par conséquent, Thibault heureux dans ses rudes labeurs, quelque part où Agnelette n’ait pas d’autre époux que moi.
– Thibault ! Thibault ! j’étais prête à devenir votre femme, et vous m’avez dédaignée !
– Agnelette, ne me rappelle pas des torts dont je suis puni si cruellement.
– Thibault, un autre a fait ce que vous ne vouliez pas faire : il a pris la jeune fille pauvre ; il s’est chargé de la vieille femme aveugle ; il a assuré un nom à l’une, du pain à l’autre ; il n’a pas ambitionné plus que mon amour, il n’a voulu de richesse que mon serment ; pouvez-vous demander que je lui rende le mal pour le bien ? Oseriez-vous me dire qu’il faut que je quitte celui qui m’a donné la preuve de son amour pour celui qui ne m’a jamais donné que la preuve de son indifférence ?
– Mais, puisque tu ne l’aimes pas, puisque c’est moi que tu aimes, que t’importe, Agnelette ?
– Thibault, ne torturez pas mes paroles pour y trouver ce qu’elles ne disent pas. Je vous ai parlé de l’amitié que je conservais pour vous, mais je ne vous ai point dit que je n’aimais pas mon mari. Je voudrais vous voir heureux, mon ami, je voudrais surtout vous voir abjurer vos erreurs, vous repentir de vos crimes ; je voudrais enfin que, pour vous arracher à cet esprit du mal dont vous parliez tout à l’heure, Dieu vous prît en miséricorde. Je le lui demande à genoux soir et matin dans mes prières. Mais, pour que je puisse prier pour vous, Thibault, il faut que je reste pure ; pour que la voix qui demande grâce monte jusqu’au trône du Seigneur, il faut que cette voix soit innocente ; il faut enfin que je garde scrupuleusement la foi que j’ai jurée au pied de son autel.
Thibault, en entendant parler Agnelette avec cette fermeté, redevint sombre et farouche.
– Savez-vous que c’est bien imprudent, ce que vous me dites là, Agnelette ?
– Pourquoi cela, Thibault ? demanda la jeune femme.
– Nous sommes seuls ici : il fait nuit, et à cette heure il n’est point un homme de la plaine qui ose entrer dans la forêt. Sais-tu, Agnelette, que le roi n’est pas plus maître dans son royaume que je ne le suis ici ?
– Que voulez-vous dire, Thibault ?
– Je veux dire qu’après avoir prié, supplié, imploré, je puis passer à la menace.
– Vous, menacer ?
– Je veux dire, continua Thibault sans écouter Agnelette, qu’à chaque parole que tu prononces, tu irrites à la fois mon amour pour toi et ma haine pour lui ; je veux dire enfin qu’il est imprudent à la brebis d’irriter le loup quand la brebis est au pouvoir du loup.
– En prenant ce sentier, je vous l’ai dit, Thibault, j’étais sans crainte en vous voyant. Après être revenue à moi, en songeant involontairement à ce qu’on raconte de vous, j’ai ressenti un moment de terreur. Mais vous aurez beau faire à présent, Thibault, vous ne me ferez pas pâlir.
Thibault se prit la tête à pleines mains.
– Ne parlez pas ainsi, dit-il, car vous ne savez pas ce que le démon me souffle à l’oreille, et ce qu’il me faut de force pour résister à sa voix.
– Vous pouvez me tuer, répondit Agnelette, mais je ne commettrai point la lâcheté que vous me demandez ; vous pouvez me tuer, mais je resterai fidèle à celui que j’ai pris pour époux ; vous pouvez me tuer, mais, en mourant, je prierai Dieu qu’il l’assiste.
– Ne prononcez pas ce nom, Agnelette ; ne me faites pas songer à cet homme.
– Menacez-moi tant que vous voulez, Thibault, puisque je suis entre vos mains : mais lui est loin de vous, par bonheur, et vous n’avez aucun pouvoir sur lui.
– Qui te dit cela, Agnelette, qui te dit que, grâce au pouvoir infernal que je possède et auquel je résiste à peine, je ne puis pas frapper de loin comme de près ?
– Et, quand je serais veuve, Thibault, me croyez-vous assez vile pour accepter votre main teinte du sang de celui dont je porte le nom ?
– Agnelette, dit Thibault en se mettant à genoux, Agnelette, épargne-moi un nouveau crime !
– Le crime viendra de vous et non pas de moi. Je puis vous donner ma vie, Thibault, mais je ne vous donnerai pas mon honneur.
– Oh ! fit Thibault rugissant, l’amour sort du cœur quand la haine y entre ; prends garde, Agnelette ! prends garde à ton mari ! Le démon est en moi et va parler par ma bouche. Au lieu des consolations que je demandais à ton amour et que ton amour me refuse, j’aurai celle de la vengeance. Agnelette, arrête, il en est temps encore, arrête ma main qui maudit, arrête ma main qui condamne, ou sinon, tu comprends bien que ce n’est plus moi, tu comprends bien que c’est toi qui le frappes ! Agnelette, tu le sais… Agnelette, tu ne me dis pas de ne point parler ? Eh bien, soyons donc maudits tous, toi, lui et moi ! Agnelette, je veux qu’Étienne Engoulevent meure, et il va mourir !
Agnelette jeta un cri terrible.
Puis, comme si sa raison protestait contre cet assassinat à distance et qui lui semblait impossible :
– Mais non, dit-elle, ce que vous dites là, c’est pour m’épouvanter, et mes prières prévaudront sur vos malédictions.
– Va donc apprendre comment le ciel les exauce, tes prières. Seulement, si tu veux retrouver ton époux vivant, hâte-toi, Agnelette, car tu risques de trébucher sur un cadavre.
Dominée par l’accent de conviction avec lequel le meneur de loups prononçait ces paroles, et cédant à un irrésistible mouvement de terreur, Agnelette, sans répondre à Thibault, debout sur le revers du fossé et la main étendue vers Préciamont, Agnelette se mit à courir dans la direction que semblait lui indiquer cette main, et disparut bientôt dans la nuit au tournant d’une route.
Lorsqu’elle eut disparu, Thibault poussa un rugissement tel qu’auraient pu en faire entendre dix loups hurlant à la fois.
Puis, s’élançant dans le fourré :
– Ah ! dit-il, maintenant je suis bien véritablement maudit !
(274-284)
One day, the Baron in order to prepare some fresh means of destruction, had been forced for the while to leave the wolves in peace. Thibault, who was in one of the moods we have just described, wandered forth from the den where he lived in company with the wolves [la tanière où il vivait pêle-mêle avec les loups]. It was a splendid summer’s night, and he began to rove about the woodlands, where the moon was lighting up the trunks of the trees, dreaming of the time when he trod the mossy carpet underfoot free from trouble and anxiety, until at last the only happiness which was now left him, forgetfulness of the present, stole over his senses. Lost in this sweet dream of his earlier life, he was all of a sudden aroused by a cry of distress from somewhere near at hand. He was now so accustomed to such sounds, that, ordinarily, he would have paid no attention to it, but his heart was for the moment softened by the recollection of Agnelette, and he felt more disposed than usual to pity; as it happened also he was near the place where he had first seen the gentle child, and this helped to awaken his kinder nature.
He ran to the spot whence the cry had come, and as he leaped from the underwood into the deep forest-lane near Ham, he saw a woman struggling with an immense wolf which had thrown her on the ground. Thibault could not have said why he was so agitated at this sight, nor why his heart beat more violently than usual; he rushed forward and seizing the animal by the throat hurled it away from its victim, and then lifting the woman in his arms, he carried her to the side of the lane and laid her on the slope. Here a ray of moonlight, breaking through the clouds, fell on the face of the woman he had saved, and Thibault saw that it was Agnelette. Near to the spot was the spring in which Thibault had once gazed at himself, and had seen the first red hair; he ran to it, took up water in his hands, and threw it into the woman’s face. Agnelette opened her eyes, gave a cry of terror, and tried to rise and flee.
“What!” cried the Wolf-leader, as if he were still Thibault the shoe-maker, “you do not know me again, Agnelette?”
“Ah! yes indeed, I know you, Thibault; and it is because I know who you are,” cried the young woman, “that I am afraid!”
Then throwing herself on her knees, and clasping her hands: “Oh do not kill me, Thibault!” she cried, “do not kill me! it would be such dreadful trouble for the poor old grandmother! Thibault, do not kill me!”
The Wolf-leader stood overcome with consternation; up to this hour he had not fully realised the hideous renown which he had gained; but the terror which the sight of him inspired in the woman who had loved him and whom he still loved, filled him with a horror of himself.
“I, kill you, Agnelette!” he said, “just when I have snatched you from death! Oh! how you must hate and despise me for such a thought to enter your head.”
“I do not hate you, Thibault,” said the young woman, “but I hear such things about you, that I feel afraid of you.”
“And do they say nothing of the infidelity which has led Thibault to commit such crimes?”
“I do not understand you,” said Agnelette looking at Thibault with her large eyes, blue as the heavens.
“What!” exclaimed Thibault, “you do not understand that I loved you—that I adored you Agnelette, and that the loss of you sent me out of my mind?”
“If you loved me, if you adored me, Thibault, what prevented you from marrying me?”
“The spirit of evil [L’esprit du mal],” muttered Thibault.
“I too loved you,” continued the young woman, “and I suffered cruelly waiting for you.”
Thibault heaved a sigh.
“You loved me, Agnelette?” he asked.
“Yes,” replied the young woman with her soft voice and gentle eyes.
“But now, all is over,” said Thibault, “and you love me no more.”
“Thibault,” answered Agnelette, “I no longer love you, because it is no longer right to love you; but one cannot always forget one’s first love as one would wish.”
“Agnelette!” cried Thibault, trembling all over, “be careful what you say!”
“Why should I be careful what I say, since it is the truth,” said the girl with an innocent shake of the head. “The day you told me that you wished to make me your wife, I believed you, Thibault; for why should I think that you would lie to me when I had just done you a service? Then, later I met you, but I did not go in search of you; you came to me, you spoke words of love to me, you were the first to refer to the promise that you had made me. And it was not my fault either, Thibault, that I was afraid of that ring which you wore, which was large enough for you and yet, oh, it was horrible! not big enough for one of my fingers.”
“Would you like me not to wear this ring any more?” said Thibault. “Would you like me to throw it away?” And he began trying to pull it off his finger, but as it had been too small to go on Agnelette’s finger, so now it was too small to be taken off Thibault’s. In vain he struggled with it, and tried to move it with his teeth; the ring seemed rivetted to his finger for all eternity.
Thibault saw that it was no use trying to get rid of it; it was a token of compact between himself and the black wolf [c’était le gage du pacte passé entre lui et le loup noir], and with a sigh he let his arms fall hopelessly to his sides.
“That day,” went on Agnelette, “I ran away; I know that I was wrong to do so, but I was no longer mistress of myself after seeing that ring and more still....” She lifted her eyes as she spoke, looking timidly up at Thibault’s hair. Thibault was bare-headed, and, by the light of the moon Agnelette could see that it was no longer a single hair that shone red as the flames of hell [flammes de l’enfer], but that half the hair on Thibault’s head was now of this devil’s colour [la teinte diabolique].
“Oh!” she exclaimed, drawing back, “Thibault! Thibault! What has happened to you since I last saw you?”
“Agnelette!” cried Thibault throwing himself down with his face to the ground, and holding his head between his hands, “I could not tell any human creature, not even a priest what has happened to me since then; but to Agnelette, all I can say is: Agnelette! Agnelette! have pity on me, for I have been most unhappy!”
Agnelette went up to him and took his hands in hers.
“You did love me then? You did love me?” he cried.
“What can I do, Thibault!” said the girl with the same sweetness and innocence as before. “I took you at your word, and every time I heard someone knocking at our hut door, I thought it was you come to say to the old grandmother, ‘Mother, I love Agnelette, Agnelette loves me; will you give her to me for my wife?’ ”
“Then when I went and opened the door, and found that it was not you, I used to go into a corner and cry.”
“And now, Agnelette, now?”
“Now,” she answered. “Now, Thibault, it may seem strange, but in spite of all the terrible tales that are told about you, I have not been really frightened; I was sure that you could not wish any harm to me, and I was walking boldly through the forest, when that dreadful beast from which you saved me, suddenly sprang upon me.”
“But how is it that you are near your old home? do you not live with your husband?”
“We lived together for a while at Vez, but there was no room there for the grandmother; and so I said to my husband, ‘the grandmother must be thought of first; I must go back to her; when you wish to see me you will come.’ ”
“And he consented to that arrangement?”
“Not at first, but I pointed out to him that the grandmother is seventy years of age; that if she were only to live another two or three years, God grant it may be more! it would only be two or three years of some extra trouble for us, whereas, in all probability we had long years of life before us. Then he understood that it was right to give to those that had least.”
But all the while that Agnelette was giving this explanation, Thibault could think of nothing but that the love she once had for him was not yet dead.
“So,” said Thibault, “you loved me? and so, Agnelette you could love me again...?”
“That is impossible now because I belong to another.”
“Agnelette, Agnelette! only say that you love me!”
“No, Thibault, if I loved you, I should do everything in the world to hide it from you.”
“And why?” cried Thibault. “Why? you do not know my power. I know that I have only a wish or two left, but with your help, by combining these wishes together, I could make you as rich as a queen.... We could leave the country, leave France, Europe; there are large countries, of which you do not even know the names, Agnelette, called America and India. They are paradises, with blue skies, tall trees and birds of every kind. Agnelette, say that you will come with me; nobody will know that we have gone off together, nobody will know where we are, nobody will know that we love one another, nobody will know even that we are alive.”
“Fly with you, Thibault!” said Agnelette, looking at the wolf-leader as if she had but half understood what he said, “do you forget that I no longer belong to myself? do you not know that I am married?”
“What does that matter,” said Thibault, “if it is I whom you love, and if we can live happily together!”
“Oh! Thibault! Thibault! what are you saying!”
“Listen,” went on Thibault, “I am going to speak to you in the name of this world and the next. Do you wish to save me, Agnelette, body and soul? If so, do not resist my pleading, have pity on me, come with me; let us go somewhere together, where we shall no longer hear these howlings, or breathe this atmosphere of reeking flesh; and, if it scares you to think of being a rich, grand lady, somewhere then where I can again be Thibault the workman, Thibault, poor but beloved, and, therefore, Thibault happy in his hard work, some place where Agnelette will have no other husband but me.”
“Ah! Thibault! I was ready to become your wife, and you scorned me!”
“Do not remember my sins, Agnelette, which have been so cruelly punished.”
“Thibault, another has done what you were not willing to do. He took the poor young girl; he burdened himself with the poor old blind woman; he gave a name to the one and bread to the other; he had no ambition beyond that of gaining my love; he desired no dowry beyond my marriage vow; can you think of asking me to return evil for good? Do you dare to suggest that I should leave the one who has given me such proof of his love for the one who has given me proof only of his indifference?”
“But what matter still, Agnelette, since you do not love him and since you do love me?”
“Thibault, do not turn and twist my words to make them appear to say what they do not. I said that I still preserved my friendship for you, I never said that I did not love my husband. I should like to see you happy, my friend; above all I should like to see you abjure your evil ways and repent of your sins; and last of all, I wish that God may have mercy upon you, and that you may be delivered from that spirit of evil, of which you spoke just now. For this I pray night and morning on my knees; but even that I may be able to pray for you, I must keep myself pure; if the voice that supplicates for mercy is to rise to God’s throne, it must be an innocent one; above all, I must scrupulously keep the oath which I swore at His altar.”
On hearing these decisive words from Agnelette, Thibault again became fierce and morose.
“Do you not know, Agnelette, that it is very imprudent of you to speak to me here like that?”
“And why, Thibault?” asked the young woman.
“We are alone here together; it is dark, and not a man of the open would dare to come into the forest at this hour; and know, the King is not more master in his kingdom than I am here?”
“I do not understand you, Thibault?”
“I mean that having prayed, implored, and conjured, I can now threaten.”
“You, threaten?”
“What I mean is,” continued Thibault, paying no heed to Agnelette’s words, “that every word you speak does not excite my love for you more than it rouses my hatred towards him; in short, I mean that it is imprudent of the lamb to irritate the wolf when the lamb is in the power of the wolf.”
“I told you, Thibault, before, that I started to walk through the forest without any feeling of fear at meeting you. As I was coming to, I felt a momentary terror, remembering involuntarily what I had heard said about you; but at this moment, Thibault, you will try in vain to make me turn pale.”
Thibault flung both hands up to his head.
“Do not talk like that,” he said, “you cannot think what the devil is whispering to me [que le démon me souffle à l’oreille], and what an effort I have to make to resist his voice.”
“You may kill me if you like,” replied Agnelette, “but I will not be guilty of the cowardice which you ask of me; you may kill me, but I shall remain faithful to my husband; you may kill me, but I shall pray to God to help him as I die.”
“Do not speak his name, Agnelette; do not make me think about that man.”
“You can threaten me as much as you like, Thibault, for I am in your hands; but, happily, he is far from you, and you have no power over him.”
“And who told you that, Agnelette? do you not know that, thanks to the diabolical power [pouvoir infernal] I possess and which I can hardly fight against, I am able to strike as well far as near?”
“And if I should become a widow, Thibault, do you imagine that I should be vile enough to accept your hand when it was stained with the blood of the one whose name I bear?”
“Agnelette,” said Thibault falling on his knees, “Agnelette, save me from committing a further crime.”
“It is you, not I, who will be responsible for the crime. I can give you my life, Thibault, but not my honour.”
“Oh,” roared Thibault, “love flies from the heart when hatred enters; take care, Agnelette! take heed to your husband! The devil [Le démon] is in me, and he will soon speak through my mouth. Instead of the consolation which I had hoped from your love, and which your love refuses, I will have vengeance. Stay my hand, Agnelette, there is yet time, stay it from cursing, from destroying; if not, understand that it is not I, but you, who strike him dead! Agnelette, you know now.... Agnelette, you do not stop me from speaking? Let it be so then, and let the curse fall on all three of us, you and him and me! Agnelette, I wish your husband to die, and he will die!”
Agnelette uttered a terrible cry; then, as if her reason reasserted itself, protesting against this murder at a distance which seemed impossible to her, she exclaimed:
“No, no; you only say that to terrify me, but my prayers will prevail against your maledictions [malédictions].”
“Go then, and learn how heaven answers your prayers. Only, if you wish to see your husband again alive, Agnelette, you had better make haste, or you will but stumble against his dead body.”
Overcome by the tone of conviction with which these last words were pronounced, and yielding to an irresistible feeling of terror, Agnelette, without responding to Thibault, who stood on the further side of the lane with his hand held out and pointing towards Préciamont, set off running in the direction which it seemed to indicate, and soon disappeared into the night as she turned out of sight at the corner of the road. As she passed from his view, Thibault uttered a howl, which might have been taken for the howling of a whole pack of wolves, and plunging into the thicket, “Ah! now,” he cried aloud to himself, “I am indeed a lost and accursed soul! [maintenant je suis bien véritablement maudit ]”
(99-105)
Dumas, Alexandre. 1868. Le meneur de loups. (Nouvelle édition). Paris: Lévy.
PDF at:
https://archive.org/det ails/bub_gb_BhlMAAAAMAAJ/page/n5
and:
https://beq.ebooksgratuits.com/vents/Dumas-meneur.pdf
Online text at:
https://fr.wikisource.org/wik i/Le_Meneur_de_loups
and
https://fr.wikisource.org/wiki/Livre:Dumas_- _Le_Meneur_de_loups_(1868).djvu
Dumas, Alexandre. 1921. The Wolf-Leader. Translated by Alfred Allinson. London: Methuen.
PDF at:
https://archive.org/details/wolfle ader00duma
or:
https://archive.org/details/wo lfleader00dumauoft
Online text at:
.
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