stories by english authors in france(旅法英国作家的故事)-第25节
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won her back to his side。 〃Why dost thou call me Michel /le diable/？〃
〃All the world calls thee that；〃 answered Delphine； 〃thou art a heretic。
See； I am a good Christian。 I say my ave and paternoster every night； if
thou wilt do the same thing； no one will call thee Michel /le diable/。〃
〃Thou art not afraid of me？〃 he asked； for the child put her hand again
on his。
〃No； no！ thou art not the real devil！〃 she said； 〃and /maman/ has put
my name on the register of the monument； so the great archangel St。
Michel will deliver me from all evil。 What canst thou do？ Canst thou turn
children into cats？ or canst thou walk across the sea without being
drowned？ or canst thou stand on the highest pinnacle of the church； where
the golden image of St。 Michel used to be； and cast thyself down without
killing thyself？ I will go back with thee to thy house and see what thou
canst do。〃
〃I can do none of these things；〃 answered Michel； 〃not one； but thou
shalt come home with me if thou wilt。〃
〃Carry me；〃 she said； 〃that I may feel how strong thou art。〃
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He lifted her easily into his arms； for he was strong and accustomed to
bear heavier burdens。 His heart beat fast as the child's hand stole round his
neck and her soft cheek touched his own。 Delphine had never been upon
the ramparts before when the stars were out and the distant circle of the
cliffs hidden by the night； and several times he was compelled to stop and
answer her eager questions； but she would not go into the house when they
reached the door。
〃Carry me back again； Michel；〃 she demanded。 〃I do not like thy
mother。 Thou shalt bring me again along the ramparts to…morrow night。 I
will always come to thee； always when I see thee standing in the dark
corner by our house。 I love thee much； Michel /le diable/。〃
It was a strange friendship carried on stealthily。 Michel could not put
away from himself this one little tie of human love and fellowship。 As for
Delphine； she was as silent about her new friend as children often are of
such things which affect them deeply。 There was a mingling of
superstitious feeling in her affection for Michela half…dread that gave
their secret meetings a greater charm to the daring spirit of the child。 The
evening was a busy time at the inn； and if Delphine had been missed； but
little wonder and no anxiety would have been aroused at her absence。 The
ramparts were deserted after dark； and no one guessed that the two dark
figures sauntering to and fro were Michel and Delphine。 When the nights
were too cold they took refuge in a little overhanging turret projecting
from one of the angles of the massive wallsa darksome niche with
nothing but the sky to be seen through a narrow embrasure in the shape of
a cross。 In these haunts Michel talked in his simple untaught way of his
thoughts and of his new faith； pouring into the child's ear what he could
never tell to any other。 By day Delphine never seemed to see him； never
cast a look toward him as he passed by amid the undisguised ill will of the
town。 She ceased to speak of him even； with the unconscious and natural
dissimulation by which children screen themselves from criticism and
censure。
The people of the Mont St。 Michel are very poor； and the women and
children are compelled to seek some means of earning money as well as
the men。 As long as the summer lasts the crowds of pilgrims and tourists；
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flocking to the wonderful fortress and shrine upon the summit； bring
employment and gain to some portion of them； but in the winter there is
little to do except when the weather is fine enough to search for shell…fish
about the sands； and sell them in the villages of the mainland。 As the tide
goes down； bands of women and children follow it out for miles； taking
care to retrace their steps before the sea rises again。 From Michel's cottage
on the ramparts the whole plain toward Avranches was visible； and he
could hear the busy hum of voices coming to his ear from afar through the
quiet air。 But on the western side of the Mont； where the black line of the
river crosses the sands； they are more dangerous； and in this direction only
the more venturesome seekers goboys who love any risk； and widows
who are the more anxious to fill their nets because they have no man to
help them in getting their daily bread。
The early part of the winter is not cold in Normandy； especially by the
sea。 As long as the westerly winds sweep across the Atlantic； the air is soft
though damp； with fine mists hanging in it； which shine with rainbow tints
in the sunlight。 Sometimes Christmas and the New Year find the air still
genial； in spite of the short days and the long rainy nights。 Strong gales
may blow； but so long as they do not come from the dry east or frosty
north there is no real severity of weather。
It was such a Christmas week that year。 Not one of the women or
children had yet been forced to stay away from the sands on account of the
cold。 Upon Christmas eve there was a good day； though； a short one；
before them； for it was low water about noon； and the high tide would not
be in before six。 All the daylight would be theirs。 It was a chance not to be
missed； for as the tides grew later in the day their time for fishing would
be cut shorter。 Almost every woman and child turned out through the gate
with their nets in their hands。 By midday the plain was dotted over by
them； and the wintry sun shone pleasantly down； and the quiet rock caught
the echo of their voices。 Farther away； out of sight and hearing； the men
also were busy； Michel among them； casting nets upon the sea。 As the low
sun went down in the southern sky； the scattered groups came home by
twos and threes； anxious to bring in their day's fishing in time for the men
to carry them across to the mainland before the Mont should be shut in by
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the tide。
A busy scene was that in the gateway。
All the town was there； some coming in from the sands； and those who
had been left at home with babies or old folks running down from their
houses。 There was chaffing and bartering； exchanges agreed upon； and
commissions innumerable to be intrusted to the men about to set out for
Pontorson； the nearest town。 Michel Lorio was going to sell his own fish；
for who would carry it for him？ Yet though he was the first who was ready
to start； not a soul charged him with a single commission。 He lingered
wistfully and loitered just outside the gateway； but neither man； woman；
nor child said； 〃Michel； bring me what I want from the town。〃
He was treading slowly down the rough causeway under the walls of
the town； when a woman's shrill voice startled him。 It was not far from
sunset； and the sun was sinking round and red behind a bank of fog。 A thin
gray mist was creeping up from the sea。 The latest band of stragglers； a
cluster of mere children； were running across the sand to the gate。 Michel
turned round and saw Nicolas's wife； a dark； stern… looking woman；
beckoning vehemently to these children。 He paused for a moment to look
at his little Delphine。 〃Not there！〃 he said to himself； and was passing on；
when the shrill voice again caught his attention。
〃Where is Phine？〃 called the mother。
What was it the children said？ What answer had they shouted back？
Michel stood motionless； as if all strength had failed him suddenly。 The
children rushed past him in a troop。 He lifted up his eyes； looking fearfully
toward the sea hidden behind the deepening fog。 Was it possible that he
had heard them say that Delphine was lost？
〃Where is Phine？〃 asked the mother； but though her voice was lower
now； Michel heard every syllable loudly。 It seemed as if he could have
heard a whisper； though the chattering in the gateway was like the clamour
of a fair。 The eldest girl in the little band spoke in a hurried and frightened
tone。
〃Phine is so naughty； madame；〃 she said； 〃we could not keep her
