The Choice of Life | Page 4

behold only what we seek? It is a sad thought. We shall be
called upon to die before we have seen everything, understood
everything, loved and embraced everything. Our skirts will have
brushed against joys which we shall not have felt; our streaming tresses
will have passed through perfumes which we shall not have breathed;
our mouth will have kissed flowers which our hands have not known
how to pick; and very often our eyes will have seen without
acquainting our intelligence. We shall not have been observant
continually.
It is a pity that things possess no other life than that which we bestow
upon them. I dislike to find that, for me, everything is subject to my
observation and my knowledge. The first is great indeed, but the
second is so small!...
4
A few years ago, the parish priest was on his way to the church at four
o'clock one morning, to celebrate the harvest mass, when he saw a
strange thing floating on the surface of the pool that washes the steps of
the wayside crucifix. As he approached, he perceived that it was a
woman's long hair. A moment later, they drew the body of a young and
beautiful girl to the bank. With nothing on her but her night-dress, she
seemed to have run straight from her bed to the pond. The gossips of
the neighbourhood will never cease chattering over this incident and

the shock which it gave the priest; and, though there is no other pond in
the village, the poor girl will be everlastingly reproached with choosing
"God's Pool" for her attempt at suicide.
Is it not enough for me to know that she is out of place amid her coarse
surroundings and that she is not happy there?
5
I have been expecting her for a week. I am wishing with all my might
that she may come; I am drawing her with my eyes, with my smile,
with my manner and with my will. But I say nothing to her. She must
be able to take to herself all the credit of this first act of independence.
Moreover, it will give me the evidence which I require of some
sympathy between us.
Outwardly, I am following a strict principle. Really, I am yielding to a
fear: am I not about to perform a dangerous and rather mad action, in
once more taking upon myself the responsibility of another's life?
We are not always unaware of the follies which we are about to commit;
but it is natural that the immediate joys should eclipse the probable
misfortunes and help us to go boldly forward.
Besides, the inquisitive know no weariness. They go with outstretched
hand to the assistance of events, heedless of increasing the chances of
suffering, because they always find, in return, something to occupy
their restlessness. Let us not blame them. In contemplating the good or
evil outcome of an action, we behold but its main lines; we do not see
the thousand little broken strokes that go to compose it. They make the
total of our days; and they have to be lived.
CHAPTER IV
1
A broad avenue of beeches stretches in front of our garden; and at the
far end is the open country. Here we have placed a seat which looks out

over space. Nothing but fields and fields, as far as the eye can reach;
nothing but land and sky. We love the security of this elemental
landscape, where the alternations of light succeed one another
inexorably. The noontides are fierce and dazzling. The soft, opalescent
mornings are fragrant with love and pleasure. But, most of all, the
sunsets attract us by their unwearied variety, sometimes sober and
tender, ever fainter and more ethereal, sometimes blood-red, monstrous
and barbaric.
The one which I watched to-day was pale and grey; and the obedient
earth humbly espoused its gentle tones. With my hands clasped in my
lap, it seemed to me that I was drinking in the peace that filled my heart;
and my eyes, which unconsciously fastened on my hands, held for a
moment my whole life enclosed there.
Then I heard indistinctly steps approaching me. A woman sat down on
the bench. The corner of her apron had brushed against my knees; I
raised my head and saw the young girl sitting by my side.
She said, simply:
"Here I am."
And at this short speech my mind is in a tumult; thoughts rush wildly
through my brain without my being able to follow one of them. I press
her hands, I look at her, I laugh, while little cries of delight burst from
my lips:
"You are here at last! I was expecting you! Do you know that you are
very pretty ... and that